#WAIT SO DO THEY SHAPESHIFT—

[anghraine]

It's honestly kind of funny to me that catapulting into Kirk/Spock shipping has launched my usual "meh, not into jealousy as a metric of romantic love" shipping tendency out the window and instead I'm genuinely charmed by the extent to which they reflect the same unhealthy seething jealousy.

This is most obvious with Spock, but you'll get McCoy joking about Spock falling in love with a computer (not an android, a stationary computer) and McCoy being A Normal Guy Joking About His Friend Having a Hobby is immediately contrasted with Kirk's barely repressed jealousy (you can all but see him thinking "time to talk another computer to death" while McCoy just laughs at his own joke about it). Kirk gets more and more generally insecure until Spock publicly declares that, while he does like an efficient computer, Kirk is irreplaceable and he doesn't want to serve anyone or anything else, and Kirk looks like he's about to kiss him on the bridge.

(Kirk still talks the computer to death, btw, for plot reasons. But big "Edith Keeler must die" energy.)

I also enjoy Kirk's horror/outrage at Leila Kalomi and her obvious gloating over "taking" Spock from him in the docility sex pollen episode and Kirk's willingness to do or say anything to get Spock back vs Spock bleeding intensity throughout "Requiem for Methuselah" as Kirk falls in love with Rayna, then Spock numbly listening to McCoy's speech about how he can never understand the glories or agonies of romantic love triangles or passionate love before waiting for him to leave and then wiping Rayna from Kirk's mind. Just two bros who are totally normal about each other!

[heartless-brainrot]

idk if anyone here cares about pokemon but

both the legands Z - A rivals are just alchemy valentine

like both of these are alchemy on different days

[arottenlust]

do I want to be a man or do i just hate being a woman? do i like being a woman or am i just too much of a coward to become a man?

[acourtofquestions]

"You'll come back," Manon said.

It sounded like more of a threat than anything

Dorian smirked. "Would you miss me if I didn't?"

Manon didn't reply. He didn't know why he expected her to.

He'd taken all of a step, when Asterin clasped his shoulder. "In and out, quick as you can," she warned him. "Take care of Narene." Worry indeed shone in the Second's gold-flecked black eyes. Dorian bowed his head. "With my life," he promised as he approached her mount and grasped the dangling reins. He didn't fail to miss the gratitude that softened Asterin's features. Or that Manon had already turned away from him.

A fool to start down this path with her. He should have known better.

The hours that passed were some of the longest of Manon's existence.

From anticipation, she told herself. Of what she had to do.

Abraxos, unsurprisingly, found them within an hour, his reins sliced from the struggle he'd no doubt waged and won with Sorrel. He waited, however, beside Manon in silence, wholly focused upon the gate where Dorian and Narene had vanished.

Time dripped by. The king's sword was constant weight at her side. She cursed herself for needing to prove-to him, to herself-that she refused to let him go into Morath for practical, ordinary reasons. Erawan wasn't at the Ferian Gap. It'd be safer. Somewhat. But if the Matrons were there … That was why he'd gone. To learn if they were. To see if Petrah truly commanded the host there, and how many Ironteeth were present. He had not been trained as a spy, but he'd grown up in a court where people wielded smiles and clothes like weapons. He knew how to blend in, how to listen. How to make people see what they wished to see. She'd sent Elide into the dungeons of Morath, Darkness damn her. Sending the King of Adarlan into the Ferian Gap was no different.

It didn't stop her breath from escaping when Abraxos stiffened, scanning the sky. As if he heard something they couldn't.

And it was the joy that sparked in her mount's eyes that told her.

Moments later, Narene sailed toward them, making a lazy path over the mountains, a dark-haired, pale-skinned rider atop her. He'd truly been able to change parts of himself. Had made his face nearly unrecognizable. And kept it that way.

Asterin rushed toward the mare, and even Manon blinked as her Second threw her arms around Narene's neck. Holding her tight. The mare only leaned her head against Asterin's back and huffed.

Manon hadn't dwelled long on what she'd say.

And as the three hundred Ironteeth witches filed into the hall, some coming off their patrols, Manon half wondered if she should have. They watched her, watched the Thirteen, with a wary disdain.

Their disgraced Wing Leader; their fallen Heir.

When all were gathered, Petrah, still standing in the doorway where she'd appeared, merely said, "My life debt for an audience, Blackbeak."

Manon swallowed, her tongue as dry as paper. Seated atop Abraxos, she could see every shifting movement in the crowd, the wide eyes or hands gripping swords.

"I will not tell you the particulars of who I am," Manon said at last. "For I think you have already heard them."

"Crochan bitch," someone spat.

Manon set her eyes on the Blackbeaks, stone-faced where the others bristled with hatred. It was for them she spoke, for them she had come here.

jacket, then hoisting up her white shirt. Rising in the stirrups to bare her scarred, brutalized abdomen. "She does not lie."

UNCLEAN

There, the word remained stamped. Would always be stamped.

"How many of you," Asterin called out, "have been similarly branded? By your Matron, by your coven leader? How many of you have had your stillborn witchlings burned before you might hold them?"

The silence that fell now was different from before. Shaking shuddering.

Manon glanced at the Thirteen to find tears in Ghislaine's eyes as she took in the brand on Asterin's womb. Tears in the eyes of all of them, who had not known. And it was for those tears, which Manon had never seen, that she faced the host again.

"You will be killed in this war, or after it. And you will never see our homeland again."

"What is it that you want, Blackbeak?" Petrah asked from the archway.

"Ride with us," Manon breathed. "Fly with us.

Against Morath. Against the people who would keep you from your homeland, your future." Murmuring broke out again. Manon pushed ahead, "An Ironteeth-Crochan alliance. Perhaps one to break our curse at last."

Again, that shuddering silence. Like a storm about to break Asterin sat back in the saddle, but kept her shirt open.

"The choice of how our people's future shall be shaped is yours," Manon told each of the witches assembled, all the Blackbeaks who might fly to war and never return. "But I will tell you this." Her hands shook, and she fisted them on her thighs. "There is a better world out there. And I have seen it."

Even the Thirteen looked toward her now.

"I have seen witch and human and Fae dwell together in peace. And it is not weakness to do so, but a strength. I have met kings and queens whose love for their kingdoms, their peoples, is so great that the self is secondary. Whose love for their people is so strong that even in the face of unthinkable odds, they do the impossible."

Manon lifted her chin. "You are my people. Whether my grandmother decrees it so or not, you are my people, and always will be. But I will fly against you, if need be, to ensure that there is a future for those who cannot fight for it themselves. Too long have we preyed on the weak, relished doing so. It is time that we became better than our foremothers." The words she had given the Thirteen months ago. "There is a better world out there," she said again. "And I will fight for it." She turned Abraxos away, toward the plunge behind them. "Will you?"

Manon nodded to Petrah. Eyes bright, the Heir only nodded back. They would be permitted to leave as they had arrived: unharmed.

So Manon nudged Abraxos, and he leaped into the sky, the Thirteen following suit.

Not a child of war. But of peace.

[h0rr0rsaxo]

I thought you were just joking when you said you were obsessed with Homelander. You weren't.

WHY IS IT ALL OVER YOUR REBLOG PAGE? IT'S ALL JUST HOMELANDER. I WAS SCROLLING FOR FIVE FUCKING MINUTES.

DUDE I'M SORRY - BUT HE'S SO FINE. I'm sick and tired of pretending that I don't wanna squish his man tits, and call him my babygirl. I have to live in a society where I have to pretend like I WOULDN'T allow and tolerate his possessive behavior. I'm tired of pretending that I wanna fix him. I don't. I wanna make him WORSE. I would 100% be his enabler.

"It's us against the world babyboy😫💔🥀🖤⛓️"

[confusedalpacart]

he transneksual

[sandraugiga]

.

[sunshineram]

im COOKING

also lil guy im not gonna finish

[hungee-boy]

i dont know if i ever shared this story but washing my hair and thinking of my dad reminded me of it

when my dad died, he had his hair pretty long and in a ponytail and we asked for his ponytail to be cut so we could save his hair

it might seem weird and it hasnt been done in my family before in my knowledge but we all consented to his hair being cut and it wouldnt have been something he opposed

when his funeral was coming up i was debating cutting my hair the same way, just forming a ponytail and having my cousin cut it but before the funeral when i was messaging my cousin to ask her, i felt a warm tingling pressure on the top of my head

i dont know if i believe in ghosts and never physically interacted with ghosts (i guess you could say ive "felt" them before, like feeling a towering but gentle male presence in my grandmas house that matched with her father's description) but ive never physically seen apparitions or heard voices or felt touches

it felt like my dad was placing his hand on my head and it was so weird and comforting that i decided not to cut my hair and only once that thought crossed my mind and i deleted the message to my cousin was when the sensation stopped

call it a hallucination brought on by grief or a supernatural occurrence but it definitely sticks with me now and id like to believe it really was my dad telling me not to cut my hair for his sake

[yan-randomfandom]

How would yandere saja boys react to reader being a child of Gwi ma, but is nothing like him as in they want to help people?

Saja Boys x Demon!GN!Reader

a/n; i keep missing in my fics, i keep forgetting the plot!! so sorry anon,, i don't know what i'm trying to do in this one (⁠´⁠;⁠︵⁠;⁠`⁠) but i do love the new scenario!! tho sadly this isn't obviously yandere,,

— 👑

"Dying king with a crumbling crown," you hum, a teasing smile stretching across your feline lips. "Will he let the fire go out?"

Jinu sighs, absentmindedly plucking his strings. "As much as I love seeing two tigers, I think it'd be best if you take another form. It's creepy watching you talk with its teeth."

With a chuckle, you shapeshift into his bird instead, licks of fire dying as soon as it appeared. You made sure to keep the tiny hat on. "Yeah, sure, okay. Hey, that was a pretty bold move to your king. Y'know, my creator."

One of his demon companions snort. You snap your eyes toward the one with abs. "That's Jinu for you. Knows what he wants, knows what Gwi-Ma wants. As it's always been."

Jinu doesn't react, he doesn't reply—yet, you and the rest of the Saja Boys could tell he's deeply uncomfortable. He continues his focus on his bipa.

Baby coughs. "Look, I'll do the rapping, yeah?"

"I already said that—"

... After a while, you stare blankly as they get lost in their planning. Listening to every word. Paying attention to their movements. You can barely contain the frown itching to crawl on your—oh, wait. You have a beak.

"Master," Mystery suddenly calls, poking a finger on your wing.

You make an expression with your beady eyes. "Do not call me that. What is it, Mystery?"

His lips curl. "Why are you here?"

All your six eyes blink. The rest seem to be intrigued for your answer.

Of course, you're here to disrupt their plans. You don't say that out loud. Always so grateful that you and Gwi-Ma have cut connection, so even he can't hear your spirits.

"I believe I don't need to answer you," you shrug, earning some looks. You flatter your wings and stand on Mystery's shoulder instead. His smile grows. "Just keep doing your magic."

— 🐦‍⬛

You wonder what the Huntrix girls are doing right now.

Probably better than... whatever this is.

"Gwi-Ma is going to be so disappointed in us."

"What? No! The opposite! He'd be so impressed, we'll never have to be punished—"

"Master's waiting for us to move already."

Gwi-Ma this. Gwi-Ma that. Even if you're the literal spawn of the guy, it's still such a bummer with him being the only topic in this damn world. Well, aside from famine and destruction of your kind. Okay. Enough of this. You have to check on the girls.

Jumping off of Mystery's shoulder, you shift into your true form, pink fire dancing in your silhouette.

You thought you could quietly leave but—

"Where are you going?" comes Jinu's voice, inquisitive. Suspicious, almost.

Romance cast you a look. "You haven't even seen our rehearsal yet! Or, maybe, you'd like to see it live—"

You flow your fire to Romance's side, patting his head in reassurance. "I'll be there."

Maybe that's good enough to be convincing. Then, you leave.

— 🔥

In one of the farthest seat of the stadium, you sit and watch as the Huntrix practice for their performance. Put simply, they're amazing. You always did prefer acapella from the girls.

You've taken a human form, hopefully that will be enough for them to lay off if they spot you. Act like one of the staff who's slacking or whatever.

"So this is where you are," a familar deep voice mutters, and you immediately shoot up a hand to their face. A face that's come from a half-body in the seat next to you, the Honmoon tear strong in your senses.

Between your startled glare and fingers, Baby smiles in curiousity as his eyes glow. "I'm a little hurt. Didn't know you prefer the hunters."

You relax. Okay, cool. He found you spying on Huntrix. "No one will believe you."

A cough. You follow the noise on the floor and find three out of four other Saja Boys. Abby, Romance, and Mystery stares at you with something in their expressions—completely unreadable.

"Does Gwi-Ma know you're—"

Hmm. Darn. You interrupt whoever spoke. "Why are you all here? Did you come to look for me?"

You turn, seeing Baby's immense stare on you. But he doesn't answer. None of them do.

... Weirdos.

"Where's Jinu?"

Baby pauses, then points at the other side of the area.

You follow his direction and Jinu barely meets your eyes.

A frown makes its way to your lips. This human... This human is a wonder. You have Gwi-Ma's memories—while the others are fairly content with their sins, you know Jinu's so much more complicated than that.

Honestly. He'll know about Rumi's patterns in one way or another.

Someone pokes your cheek.

You sigh. "Mystery, stop doing that."

"Ah, no, I'm Abby. You're acting weird."

You? Acting weird? Haven't you always been? You look down on your patterns. An intricate design and color unlike the others.

The weight of your memories — not even yours, really — rumbles in the pit of your core. You don't like what you are, or where you are, or who you are. But, at the same time, you care so much. It's hard to think.

"I'm not answering that," you say eventually, using your higher position whenever convenient.

—

errmm my bad, also im trying to combine asks as I go ... hrrmmm eeemm hmmmm it's not working well

i tried to go with demon reader (anon1) and reader who hates the saja boys but loves huntrix (anon2) but for this one—they just really don't like what they stand for

[sourkiki]

WINGS OF THE HEART⠀ ㅤ ⠀ ㅤNISHIMURA RIKI.

ALBUM CONTENT: explicit mature content, monster(dragon) fucking, dom! dragon! 西村力 x fem! reader unprotected sex (wrap it up) ❀ double penetration, riding, belly buldge, faint pregnancy kink 𖤐 1362... ᧔♡᧓ catalogue.

FROM PRODUCER: my first fic in this new account! can't stop thinking about dragon! riki with his current look, so i ended up writing this in one go. don't like? don't read. taglist. @byshens, @chuhees, @doucious.

When you were a child, naive and still too young to experience the cold, harsh reality of the world you live in, your mother will always read you the same bedtime story. The bedtime story has a simple plot—it starts with a princess being kidnapped by the dragon that lives in the forest, situated near the castle.

The king and queen had tried everything they could to find their precious daughter back to them but their efforts were futile. No matter how high and low their search parties searched, they couldn’t find the princess. It was like she had vanished into thin air. 

Years passed and eventually, they gave up, announcing that the princess was dead. What they didn’t know however, is how the princess was still alive. She had discovered the truth: the dragon is actually a human in disguise. It can shapeshift into a human at its free will and what it mostly desired was companionship and most importantly—love. Someone who will love him for who he really is. Someone who can embrace the ‘monstrous’ side of him. Someone who won’t run from him. 

Long story short, the princess ended up learning more about the dragon and to no one’s surprise, she fell in love with him. The reason why your mother read it to you before bedtime was simple: she simply hoped you could find a man and love him for who he is. After all, all mothers would want the best for her children, right? Although, you weren’t sure if your mother would be pleased if she could see your current situation.

“W-Wait, no more,” you panted, trying to move away or push him away but his strength easily overwhelms yours. 

Riki chuckled, ducking his head, his dragon-like tongue slithering out to teasingly graze the shell of your left ear. The heat sent shivers down your spine and made you tightened around him, drawing a mixture of a groan and low, deep growl from him. His eyes glowed a shade of light blue, making him look intimidating. But you weren’t afraid of him. 

“No more?” He echoed with a smirk, hand snaking down to where you’re deeply connected with one another, brushing his hand against your puffy, soaked folds. He jerked upwards, eliciting a surprised gasp from you when you felt his cocks kissing the entrance to your womb. “The way you clenched down on me says otherwise. Why lie when your body’s telling the truth?” 

He coos, lowering his head to trail butterfly kisses down the expanse of your neck that was covered in bite marks and hickeys—a physical claim to anyone who tried to lay their hands on you. That you belong to him and only him. Your breath involuntarily hitched at the fleeting sensation of his sharp fangs grazing against your skin. If he wishes, he could snap your neck and kill you on the spot. But you knew Riki’s too enamored with you to do that. 

You couldn’t speak, mind going hazy when Riki continued thrusting into you at a slow, lazy and languid pace. Like he has all the time in the world to make you fall apart in his arms. You don’t know how much time had passed since Riki had dragged you to your shared bedroom. Your clothes were ripped to shreds with his sharp claws, much to your annoyance. Whatever protests formed died down in your throat when he kissed you, his tongue easily sliding down until it reached the depth of your throat, making you gagged on the slimy muscle. 

One thing led to another and that’s how you ended up straddling his lap, his heavy, scaly tail wrapped around your waist in a possessive grip. Riki leaned against the bedframe, hands making themselves at home on your hips, drawing circles on your bare skin. Your poor hole was stretched impossibly wide in order to accommodate not one, but the girth of two cocks. The first time Riki fucked you, you ended up bleeding, much to your embarrassment but he wasn’t mad. He reassured you, resorting to only using one in the meantime, not wanting the same thing to happen again.. 

Now however, you’re already an expert, with how much Riki have you beneath him, reduced to a trembling, flustered mess. He couldn’t get enough of you. Of how warm and tight you feel with his cocks buried deep inside you, rearranging your insides to fit the outline of him. Of how breathtaking you look when you ride him, using him to greedily chase after your release. Of how angelic you sound with every thrust from him. To him, your moans were music to his ears and if he could, he would worship you until the end of time. 

“Mmpfh, s-so good,” you moaned, head tilting back with your hands loosely wrapped around his shoulders, eyes rolling up to the back of your head. You could get drunk on the intoxicating feeling of his cocks sliding in and out of you. Your slick from your previous few orgasms that Riki had graciously ripped out from you was enough to act as lubricant. 

The room was filled with the loud, sinful squelching sounds with your pleasured moans blending into the background. Your hair stuck to your forehead, skin glowing with a layer of sweat. The muscles in your thighs were starting to ache but you didn’t care when you felt your unknown climax coming. Riki could see the signs—the way your movements were getting sloppy and the way you were struggling to maintain your rhythm.

Which was why in a blink of an eye, he flipped you over onto your back without pulling out. One hand pinning your wrists above your head while the other gripped onto your waist to anchor himself, he pounded into you with no mercy. The sudden change of pace made you whined, back arching off the bed as you let him fuck you. 

“Shit, you’re still so tight even after I’ve fucked you,” he cursed under his breath, sounding as ragged as you are. 

Riki looked down, groaning out loud at how he could see his cocks protruding from your stomach. He watched as the small bump moved with every movement from his hips. His mind begins to spiral. Thoughts of pumping you full with his cum and you carrying his kids—maybe they will be half-human and half-dragons, walking around with your stomach round filled his mind. 

Growling and filled with new vigour, Riki shoved you deeper into the dirtied sheets, hips snapping against yours as he pistoned his hips, determined to get you pregnant. You couldn’t do anything, simply laying there as you let him use you like a ragdoll. Breathless mewls, moans and whimpers spill from your lips endlessly. You cried out when he wrapped his thick, puffy lips around your hardened, sore right nipple, the split end of his dragon tongue circling the bud with ease. 

All it took was one final, hard thrust for you to reach your climax. Your thighs trembled from the pure intensity of your orgasm. Clear, warm liquid gushes out from your pussy, soaking the sheets and your bodies wet. Riki was quick to follow suit, spilling his seed inside you. He made no move to pull out. Instead, he collapsed on top of you, making you let out a dignified squawk as you couldn’t breathe properly. Not when he was suffocating you to death. 

“Get off! You’re heavy!” You squeaked, wriggling your hand out to smack his shoulder. 

Riki shook his head, wrapping his arms around you as his tail loosened its grip around your waist. He buried his head in the crook of your neck and whined, acting like a child being scolded by their mother. “Don’t wanna. You feel nice and warm.” 

You whacked the back of his head, making him flinched; startled as you scowled. “Yeah, no thanks to a certain someone. I’m all sticky and sweaty too.” 

“Don’t care. I wanna sleep,” he murmured, words borderline slurring as he felt his eyelids growing heavier and heavier. The next thing you knew, Riki had fallen asleep with his cocks still inside you, much to your annoyance. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you mumbled, cupping his face with your hands, thumbs grazing the skin underneath his eyes. Without his dragon-like features, Riki could pass as a regular young adult. Your eyes softened when he unconsciously nuzzled into your palms, acting like a touch-starved cat. Unable to help it, you leaned forward to press a soft, loving kiss on his forehead. 

Good night, my precious dragon. 

[rosenclaws]

Cute || Logan Howlett x Reader

summary: Sometimes dating Logan comes with its difficulties. Especially when you feel like you just can't compare.

warnings: fem!reader, insecurity, jean slander im sorry bby but ur a plot device for this fic.

wc: 2.4k

a/n: I'm gonna be so honest I had this idea last night and I thought it would be fun to write but I finished it and I really hate my writing for some reason this week so I'm not happy with it but I wanted to get something out so here it is ig 😭

You never should have eavesdropped. You didn't mean to. But you heard Logan and Jean talking and you just...you couldn't resist.

Logan. Well he was everything to you. You never dreamed of being the one to wake up next to him. To be the one who gets to kiss him, to call him yours. You pined after man for a long time. Ever since you stumbled your way to the mansion Logan had invaded your heart. Powers that felt like nothing compared to the omega level mutants just down the hall.

Super senses and magnetic sensitivity that could barely movie a fridge magnet. People could shapeshift, teleport, and turn to metal. Compared to them you were no one, just another mutant living at the mansion.

For years you watched him from afar, falling deeper in love with him every day. Despite being so private Logan was gossiped about fairly often. The kids were drawn to him and his protective nature. The stories spread until he was something of an urban legend walking among commoners.

He’s over 150 years old who knows what he’s done in all that time. Stories of his heroics, his dark moments, his triumphs and his devastating losses. You tried not to pay any mind to them but you just couldn’t help yourself. He is the Wolverine. He may not lead the X-Men or enjoy the spotlight but he is undeniably a legend.

Whether he wants to be or not.

He didn’t even know your name, or at least that’s what you thought. It was something out of a fairytale the first time you two truly talked. The mansion was on lockdown because of a blizzard but you needed to get stuff for the lab. It was urgent and it couldn't wait. You were going to go alone but Logan had stopped you before you could even take one step out of the doors.

"Now where do you think you're going?" You yelped at the sound of his voice. Your ears folded back as you spun to see Logan standing behind you.

"Out." You said shyly. This is the longest conversation you think you've had with him. Your eyes glanced up to meet his but you could only look for a second. He just made you so nervous.

"Out? In 10ft of snow? You're going to freeze your damn ass off sweetheart." He raised an eyebrow as he gestured to the heavy snowfall outside. You felt your face heat up at the nickname.

"I'll be fine, promise." You bundled your coat and headed down the driveway, your ears perked up as you heard a second set of footsteps behind you.

"Logan, I said I was fine." You stopped and stared at the white snow in front of you. His heavy footsteps caught up to yours as he stood in front of you. Snow fell on top of his poufy hair, a cigar sat in his mouth.

"I'm sure you can take care of yourself, but I won't let you. So this better be worth it." Without another word he turned and continued down the driveway, leaving you stunned and rushing to catch up to him.

How he knew you were leaving was a mystery, you never asked. But you keep that moment close to your heart. By the time you returned to the mansion you were covered in snow and your face was freezing but you didn't care. Not when Logan had given you his jacket half way through the trip.

As you shake the snow off your hair you see Logan watching you, he's stripped down to just a t-shirt and your eyes dart to his arms. He walks up to you, a small smirk on his lips as your heart stops in your chest. You could smell his cologne and it was utterly overwhelming.

"Cute." He hummed. He walked away, whistling lowly as he headed back to his room. Oh it just wasn't fair how easily he could turn to you to a puddle of mush.

Logan continued to flirt and find ways to be around you, to talk to you. Until he actually asked you out on a date. Taking you to a diner just outside of town and buying you a milkshake. A little old fashioned to the point you asked if he had done this back in the 50's too. He just rolled his eyes at you but you saw that little smile he tried to hide.

You could barely believe that the Wolverine wanted you and honestly neither could some of the other mansions residents. You tried to block them out as best as you could but your super hearing made it hard. But Logan could hear them too and he always did his best to soothe your worries. But sometimes the words buried themselves under your skin, wrapping around your heart and they just won't let go.

There's...one thing that has always bothered you, maybe it's why you let those words get to you so much. Logan loves you, he's said it before and you know it's hard for him to be open and vulnerable. You kiss, you hold hands, you do...other things behind closed doors. But there's one word that just seems to haunt you.

Cute.

Logan calls you cute all the time and you like when he does but that's all he calls you. Not beautiful, pretty, gorgeous, stunning. Just cute. Your quiet nature and shitty powers already make it hard for people to take you seriously sometimes and for Logan to just see you as cute, it hurt.

You're not a literal goddess like Ororo or stunning like Jean or beautiful like Marie. It was slowly killing you inside every time he called you that. But you kept it to yourself, you couldn't lose him. You loved him and you just had to believe he loved you too.

Which brings you to this stupid conversation with Jean. She was never your biggest fan and you think it has something to do with the fact that Logan used to chase after her. It was no secret that Logan had a thing for Jean since the day he showed up at the mansion. But that was years ago and he promised he was over it, that he's moved on.

So why is it so hard to see them together?

You really didn't mean to intrude, you were just looking for Logan. Your ears perking up when you heard his voice coming from the kitchen. As you neared closer you heard that he wasn't alone.

"You seem happier." Jeans voice was light but you could sense a hint of hostility as she talks.

You peaked into the kitchen and saw them together, alone. Logan was leaning against the counter with a root beer and Jean was next to him, a little too close for your liking. You should leave, you shouldn't listen this is an invasion of privacy. But your feet stayed rooted to the ground. Unmoving.

"I am." Logan says as he takes a sip of his drink.

"Look Logan, we're old friends right? So you can be honest with me." Jean places her hand on his wrist and he doesn't move.

"Are you sure about her? I mean the two of you together, it's a bit odd isn't it."

"Odd? The hell is that supposed to mean?" Logan narrows his eyes as he tries to understand what Jean was saying. She laughs and you feel your heart clench.

"She's like your pet Logan, cute but not very serious. She's not what you need." There's that damn word again. Cute. Her voice cruel and uncaring. As if she was just stating the obvious. And maybe she was. There's the knife, stabbing right into your heart.

"Be honest Logan, is she really what you want?" She asks. You wait for his response. You wait and wait. The knife twisting with each passing second. Shredding your heart to pieces as he stays quiet.

"Stay out of my head Jean." He growls, slamming the now empty bottle onto the counter.

Is that all he has to say? Really? The knife falls to the ground a bloody mess, leaving your heart completely and utterly broken. Suddenly the once comforting smell of his cologne is suffocating.

So you just run.

Run far away from the mansion, from Logan and Jean. From everybody. You just run and run until you can't anymore. You bury your face in your hands and let the tears fall. Tears of anger and hurt and sadness stream down your face. Who were you kidding? Logan is the guy of your dreams and now you're waking up. A pet. Is that really how everyone sees you? Some cute little thing to entertain Logan until he moves on to someone else? You don't know how long you're out in the small forest behind the mansion.

You slowly walk back, needing to just lock yourself in your room for the foreseeable future. The sun is gone and you've definitely missed dinner. There's a few lights left on by the time you reach the open clearing. Your arms are wrapped around your self as you keep your head low. You just feel purely defeated. You slip in the back door and up the stairs to your room. As you place your hand on your doorknob you hear a very angry Logan.

"Where the fuck have you been?!"

"Nowhere." You snap as you open your door and try to close it in his face. He slams his hand on the door to stop you. He follows you inside and slams the door shut.

"Nowhere? I looked everywhere for you. No one knew were you went. Do you know how worried I was?" He growls, the veins on his neck are bulging. You roll your eyes and it ticks Logan off even more.

"What the fuck has gotten into you?"

"Sorry is your little pet misbehaving?" You snap, your fist balling in anger as you finally face him. Logan's eyes widen when he sees the tears in your eyes.

"What?"

"I heard you and Jean in the kitchen Logan." You wipe your eyes as you slowly step closer to him. "She's just a pet, be serious Logan." You mock in anger.

"Trust me that's not the first time I've heard that before, but you." You shove his chest but he doesn't move, he's watching you. Stunned by the outburst.

"You just sat there and didn't say anything. Nothing Logan!" You shout, not caring who heard you. He grabs your wrists and pulls you close to him. He's never looked so serious before.

"Jean is full of shit and you know it sweetheart."

"Do I?" You rest your head against his chest. The anger slowly draining as defeat takes its place.

"Logan when was the last time you called me anything other than cute?" You ask. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out.

"Do you understand what hearing cute and only cute feels like? Is that really the only compliment you can think to give me? Do you not love me?" He lets go of your hands and you push him away.

You fall onto your bed and cry. Logan feels sick to his stomach. He didn't know its all bothered you so much, he thought he was doing alright protecting you. But he's failed you. He drops to his knees and tries to pull your hands away from your face.

"Sweetheart, of course I love you." He mumbles.

"I just feel so small sometimes. Standing next to you, being with you. Logan we were never meant to be together."

"What are you talking about?" You finally lift your head up and Logan wastes no time in wiping away your tears. You are everything Logan wants. Meant to be together? He wants to be with you and that's good enough for him.

"Do you think I'm pretty?" "Yes, prettier than anyone else in the world." He says without missing a beat.

"So why have you never said anything?" Logan sighs as he rubs his thumb gently across your cheek.

You're everything to him. You were never a rebound or a pet, god he hates that word now. Logan...he's not the kind of man you'd ever look at and think cute or soft. He is definitely not the kind of man to be loved by you. You're so gentle and kind and so cute it makes his heart hurt. He's never experienced that before. He's not the guy who gets the pretty sweet girl. But then he was and shit, it feels good. So fuck the rumors and the gossip.

"Someone like you shouldn't be with someone like me, I'm not the hero people think I am. So when someone like you loves me, it's a little hard to believe sometimes." He tilts your head up to press a kiss to your lips.

"You're cute," He kisses your cheek softly.

"and pretty," Another kiss.

"and beautiful and gorgeous and so much more." You let out a small giggle as his bread scratches your face.

He nuzzles into you until you open yourself up. He wraps his arms around your waist and hoists you up off the bed. Spinning around until he's got you in his lap.

"Cute isn't an insult. Just seeing you smile makes me feel like a fucking teenager." Logan bumps his nose against yours.

"I didn't answer Jean because I didn't want to. It's no one else's damn business how I feel about you."

"You really think all that?" You say shyly, biting your lip as the doubt still creeps into your head. But Logan pushes it away with another searing kiss.

"Fuck yeah I do. You're everything I could ever want." He frowns as he notices the worry on your face. He would give anything to make it better.

"And more." He adds on. He sees the smile grow and he feels the weight lift off his chest.

"Come on, don't hide that pretty smile from me." He grabs your chin so he can get a better look at you.

He makes a silent promise to never let you feel like this again. Anger stirs inside but he keeps himself as calm as he can. If he had his way he'd rip into anyone who feels like spreading their stupid gossip. But for your sake he won't. But he makes no promises the next time he hears some punk kid open their damn mouth about HIS girl.

"I love you Logan." You hum as you duck your head to rest under his chin, wanting to be held by your boyfriend. His arms wrap around you, holding you close for as long as you need.

"I love you too sweetheart, my gorgeous girl."

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

i am sick rn ;((((( so how about pure vanilla and shadow milk (separately) taking care of a sick reader? i need my silly lil guys doing their best (or worst LMAO) to take care of their beloved -galaxy

Here you go! Hope you feel better soon :(

.....

Pure Vanilla

As a healer, it's only natural that he's the first cookie you called when you started feeling under the weather.

You're certain that you caught a cold from the snowy mountains of Dark Cacao Kingdom while accompanying him to a meeting a few days ago, as your doughy body hasn't stopped shaking since your return despite all attempts to warm yourself up.

Today, you woke up feeling achy all over, barely able to finish your tasks around the kingdom without becoming dizzy or getting sudden chills.

So you've put on bedrest until you feel well, asking one of the bluebirds to send PV a message.

Within the hour, he shows up at your place, bringing some good natural remedies to your bedside.

He also brought some hot jelly soup for when/if you feel like you could eat something light.

While his healing magic mainly extends to injuries, it's able to relieve the aches that plagued your dough.

But he discourages you from jumping up right away, as it took time to work.

Even though you think he's worrying too much over your simple cold, PV admits that he felt partially responsible for getting you sick because he asked you to attend the meeting in the first place.

You tell him that's not true, as you wanted to go and he couldn't have possibly predicted the weather that day. You promise him that you'll recover in no time, and you thank him for being here.

That cheers him up, as he promises to stay with you until you're well enough to move around, assuring you that whatever tasks you had could wait.

Shadow Milk

Despite being an inhabitant of Beast Yeast for years, you weren't familiar with the weather patterns within the Land of Spice...

Until Shadow Milk dragged you into his fellow Beast's domain at the peak of a spice storm one day.

He only wanted to annoy Burning Spice, although after you kept sneezing nonstop during their banter and being the one who annoyed him instead, the jester pouted and decided to warp back to his Spire with you.

Unfortunately, the storm made you terribly sick, with your eyes constantly burning and your throat feeling scratchy.

Shadow Milk only realizes something MIGHT be wrong with you when you refused to come out of your chambers that evening.

He invites himself inside and sees the sorry state you're in, laying in bed with spice particles in your dough and your toppings looking like they're gonna melt at any moment.

He doesn't understand why you're pouting and blaming him for dragging you out into that storm.

He even starts whining like "so you hate me now???? you want me to leave??????"

When you deny that and tell him he can stay, he's suddenly all smiles like "hehe I was gonna stay whether you wanted me to or not, doll. You're gonna have to depend on me now! But then again....you always have, and you always will~"

Sinister undertones aside, he's actually genuinely concerned for your health, taking care of you in-between his duties within the Spire.

He shapeshifts into a doctor/nurse persona, looking up cures for spice-related sicknesses and speaking in medical jargon the whole time he's with you.

He'd gather natural remedies and medicines out in the town no problem, demanding them from every vendor/storekeeper--and of course they listen.

After all, those same folks would gladly give him their left arm in exchange for a comforting lie.

You didn't mind playing the patient role, and you don't question how or where he got all those remedies, as you recover pretty quickly.

He definitely wouldn't dote on Black Sapphire or Candy Apple like this if they ever got sick, so you considered yourself very lucky.

[batsandbirdbrains]

I like the idea of Dick finding out a totally not-bat related member of the Justice League is actually his biological parent, but I can’t pick one today. So I’m going to do mini reactions he’d have if he was already like 18-21ish when he found out, using various JL members as the possible parent:

***

Hal Jordan

“Give me the ring right now give me a ring I want to fly give me a ring.”

“Also, let’s come up with some fun ways to troll Bruce.”

“But seriously give me a fucking ring right now immediately. I. Want. To. Fly.”

***

Wonder Woman

“Did you get rid of me because I’m a boy?”

“Wait.”

“Does this make Donna my aunt? Don’t like that. We’re supposed to be twins.”

***

Martian Manhunter

Dick: 🤯

Dick: 🤨

Dick: 🤔

“Wait does this mean I can shapeshift? Is this even what I really look like?? Should I be green?”

***

Oliver Queen

“Been there, done that. Don’t need another billionaire dad. But if you give me a trust fund, I might reconsider.”

“Also, give me all the dirt you have on Bruce from when you were in boarding school together. Give it to me now.”

***

Hawkman and/or Hawkwoman

Dick, spreading his arms out: “I was born to be a bird!”

***

I might add more later or expand on an idea or two idk. This more of shit post than anything tbh

[r3ynah]

I Can be everything and anything, at once

A 27 years old Phantom was challenged to a bet, by his co-workers at the watchtower. Green lantern stated along with the the other heroes that If he could help every single one of them at least once in a month while not using any his powers and he also had to be physically and mentally there as he helps them. the cherry on top was that he needed to use his real identity instead of his ghost form in this mission.

If Phantom successfully conceals his civilian identity, while helping them, he gets to know everyone's deepest darkest secrets.

But if he loses, he must do everyone a favor and must keep it no matter how outrageous it is.

Ofcourse Phantom agreed, because he was no bitch, okay so maybe he is, he only accepts bets like this if he knows that'll he'll win. so yeah.

Besides, having no powers for this, is really a piece of cake, if you're a raging gender fluid that knows his way around makeup and can easily change the sound of his voice, to be honest the shapeshifting parts that he got from his powers are basically just add-ons.

Well what was he waiting for? afterall he needed all the blackmail he could get, not as Phantom but as Daniel James Fucking Fenton, this was an opportunity to go batshit crazy and he was absolutely stealing it.

The very first hero Danny approached to help was Wonder Woman, who thanked Danny who was now disguised as a woman wearing a long ass Red wig, and some clothes he "borrowed" from Jazz who just joked about Danny being her twin, and wished him luck.

"Thank you, young lady for your brave actions to help me." Wonder woman sincerely thanked the boy in disguise as she held both of Danny's hands as gratitude "may I ask the name of my savior? "

"My name's El, It's a pleasure to know you." Danny smiled a little wider.

The second was Flash, which Danny found completely amusing because of the way he helped the speedy hero, who tripped while patrolling around the city.

Danny who was now in a more gothic attire( thanks to Sam's help) caught the hero's wrist before he embarrassingly fell face first on the ground.

"You okay there sir?" Danny asked, as he kept a firm grip on the man's wrist to make sure he doesn't fall.

Meanwhile Flash who thought he was in those korea tv romance dramas only blue screened for a few seconds before finally get his shit together. "yeah- um- name's Flash, and you are?"

The hero tripped on his own words, making Danny amused as fuck. "James, it was nice to finally meet you"

Okay, about like three weeks in, and Danny managed to help almost everyone in the watchtower, and only a few more to go,( he didn't get why most of the heroes he helped either started to stutter or blue screen in their spot once they talk to him. like damn is this how all of you treat every civilian who interacts with you? that's just sad) but at this time, Dan and Elle found out, and were now demanding to join, with the excuse of basically being Danny but in alternate or clone form, which Danny had no choice but to give in, I mean he wasn't breaking any rules so technically this was alright.

Danny wanted to take a break so Dan took over this time.

currently Nightwing was observing the outside of the gala, Bruce was invited to, something about a bunch of drugs being hidden within the crowd, and was now being passed around.

He intently remained focused on his observation, while also keeping a conversation with Oracle and the others on the comms, he didn't realize that he was too far off the edge of the railing he was standing on, until he missed a step.

Nightwing would never admit that he let a quiet squeal to his siblings ever as he fell, he closed his eyes and braced for impact, he would never expect to fall into the arms of a man 3x bigger than him, he stared at the man, and the man stared at him. 'holy shit' Nightwing thought.

The man, chuckled making Nightwing internally scream. "When I wished for Desiree, to make someone from above to save me from this trash party, I didn't think it would be one of the birds of gotham, to come and fall for me let alone the handsome one."

Okay Nightwing was now full on red from blushing, he was put down gently by the man on the ground, before offering a handshake, once Nightwing accepted the handshake, Dan pulled the hand closer to his mouth then gave a quick peck on the back of the hand vigilante's hand. "My name's Dan Masters, it's a pleasure to meet you."

his siblings can eat dirt on how they were teasing Nightwing Right now, but this was fucking worth it.

And the last to have gotten help from Danny was John Constantine, Danny actually had a reason on why he saved John for last, and that's because John actually knows Danny's identity, so for this mission he asked the help of his daughter Elle.

Elle had helped John by fixing a ruined summoning circle, who also helped him negotiate with a demon, and somehow all day, Elle just stuck to Constatine's side, her explanation? 'He'll die without me' fair point John thought as he took the kid, to order ice cream and to hangout in the park.

"You know kid, you remind me of someone." Constantine stated while keeping his eyes on what's infront of him, which was just a bunch of trees.

Elle who sat next to him, still eating her Ice cream looked up at him and said. "Really?"

"Yeah like you two literally have the same aura and all just a little different, but I don't know who yet." He replied and ruffled the kid's hair. making the girl laugh.

"Hey John!" Danny greeted behind them, and then all the gears inside of Constantine's head began to work. he let out a groan as he realized the girl beside him was the clone of the man behind him, well he needed to kiss that secret of his goodbye. here on this spot right now or he'll die of embarrassment if he waited any longer.

"Danny, let's go on a date." Constantine stated, not facing the Man.

this comment made the Father and Daughter choke on literal air.

[totally-here]

dpxdc twins au except it's no-pulse flavored

Bart’s new roommate looks a lot like Tim. 

Like, suspiciously like Tim. 

Danny’s the same height, has the same shape of nose, same shade of hair, and even frowns like him. He would have been a perfect copy if he acted more like Tim, but Danny definitely holds himself looser than Bart’s ever seen Tim. 

But he still has his face. So, obviously, Bart has to investigate. Maybe he’s a clone, or a shapeshifter, or maybe one of the Gotham rogues decided to get facial reconstruction surgery to look like him, and this was all a ploy. 

Okay, probably not that last one. Bart doesn’t think Tim’s enemies know his identity. 

Anyway, investigation! Bart’ll figure this out himself, and deal with it if Danny needs to be dealt with. And the investigation will start right after he comes up with an excuse as to why he’s back in their third floor apartment when he passed Danny in the hallway a few seconds before. 

Danny stares at him, and Bart stares back. 

“Must’ve been a doppelganger!” Bart blurts out. 

Danny’s silent for a second before nodding enthusiastically and noting that everyone's supposed to have like seven in the world anyway and wow what a wild coincidence that there’s one in their building. 

Bart extends the same courtesy when a week later he walks in on Danny with an iced over pan on the stove. Danny says they should really get their freezer checked out and Bart agrees and asks if he can use the ice for a painting study. 

(They never get their freezer checked.)

Bart finds that Danny’s great at setting up fun things for him to draw, whether he knows it or not. Like the ice, or his collection of rocks, his astronomy textbooks with the pretty covers, his gestures as he rants about his classes, the excited glint in his eyes when he’s talking about his next repair project and how his eyes almost look like they glow in the right light. 

Hm. A good portion of his sketchbook is drawings of Danny, and yet he’s still having trouble with getting the right blue for his eyes. At first glance they’re Tim’s shade of blue, but when he keeps looking they seem to get lighter. Maybe greener?

He should probably stop staring into his friend’s eyes. 

Well, maybe not. Danny doesn’t seem to mind. 

Just like he doesn’t mind when they started regularly sitting very close on the couch, or falling asleep together, or Bart borrowing some of his jackets, or-

Okay, Bart’s kinda seeing a pattern. He and Danny should really have a conversation about if this is platonic behavior or not. 

But not right now, because Bart brought Danny across the river to raid Wally’s board game closet in Keystone. 

And Wally, who’s used to this, just passes by them with a, “Hey Bart, hey Tim.”

“Danny, not Tim,” Danny replies almost absent mindedly, then looks back at Wally, who’s also staring at him now. “Wait, you know Tim?”

“OhmyGod I was supposed to investigate!” Bart says, face palming. It just slipped his mind! And Danny was distracting him with his pretty face that he totally wears better than Tim!

“You know him too?” Danny asks. But he doesn’t look suspicious of them, more amused. 

“How do you know him?” Wally squints at Danny, eyes briefly catching Bart’s in question. 

“He’s my twin,” Danny answers easily. “The Drakes only wanted one kid, so they gave me to their friends the Fentons, who wanted a second one.” He shrugs and goes back to digging around the closet. “Tim and I were always in contact, though. Letters and phone calls and texting, you know?” 

He says it all so casually while Wally and Bart are sharing increasingly concerned looks behind his back. 

Do the Waynes know about Danny? Has Tim never brought him up? Why? Does Danny know about Red Robin? Does Tim-

“Holy shit does this mean Tim has ice powers too!?” 

Or: Tim and Danny are twins. Through a series of coincidences, the first people to find out that aren’t Fentons or Drakes are the flashes.

(This post was brought to you by me recently finishing the 1995 Impulse run, and wanting an excuse to share this panel:

Look they both got called twinks clearly they're soulmates)