#but i needed to write something for it

[lightning-and-dragons]

Here's a random thought I had while rewatching Ninjago.

What if Jay, instead of being adopted by the Walkers, was adopted by Dr. Julien? Just imagine all of the fluff and angst that could come from it.

Edit as of May 26, 2024: Now on A03!

Jay could've learned all of his building skills from Dr. Julien, and when it came time to build Zane, Jay helped out a bit. There are bits of Jay's mechanics in Zane, little pieces that only Jay created, so that there was always a part of him with Zane.

When Zane was activated, much like waking up, he and Jay hung out together ever second of every day. They grew up together, learning all there was to learn side by side. Jay never thought that Zane was odd, and he knew that Zane was his brother, despite being made of metal.

Zane always thought as Jay as his older brother, because he was. Jay loudly taught Zane all that Dr. Julien didn't, even convincing Zane to learn how to dance and sing. He was a constant in Zane's life, one that he was thankful for.

Jay grew to be a joy that Zane still struggled to understand, because how can someone be so happy all of the time? And Zane began to be a steady presence in Jay's life when his nightmares became too vivid, rubbing his back comfortingly every time Jay woke up sobbing.

They ate every meal together, trying new recipes as often as they could. Dr. Julien taught Zane how to cook, Jay sitting back and tasting as they went. They were a family, made up of broken pieces of both hard pasts and machine parts, but they were as flesh and blood.

And Dr. Julien mourned the day that he would have to say goodbye to the both of them. He knew who they were both meant to become. He knew what he had to do.

Jay cried when he learned that Dr. Julien had to hide away, and didn't eat for days when he learned that Zane would get his memory wiped. He was going to lose his father and his brother, and despite Dr. Julien's assurances that he wouldn't truly loose Zane, Jay knew that what they had would never return. Not when all of Zane's memories were gone. There relationship would never be the same.

Zane would forget all that they had done together, all of the games of tag in the snowy forest, all of the inside jokes the two had been collecting, even the stories Dr. Julien would tell them every night.

Zane didn't understand why Jay was sad, and was even more confused when Jay accepted a job at a junkyard, more than two day's travel away. He didn't understand why Jay was crying when he wrapped Zane in a hug, telling him that he was the best brother he could ever have. He didn't understand that when Jay said goodbye, he meant it.

--------------------------------------------------

Zane becomes a ninja, being led up the steps to the Monastery by Master Wu, and Jay is waiting for him. At the sight of his brother, one he hadn't seen for years, a flood of joy filles his heart, causing a bright smile on his face. All he wants to do is run up to Zane, wrap him in a big hug, and tell him all of the adventures he's had. But before he can, Zane gives him a smile, and introduces himself, his eyes friendly, yet giving no spark of recognition, no joy at seeing his brother again.

"Hello. I am Zane."

Zane didn't recognize him. He didn't know Jay. He didn't recognize his own brother.

With a heavy heart, Jay knows that the plan worked. His father was gone, and Zane forgot everything. And now, for everything to go as Dr. Julian wished it, Jay had to pretend that he didn't know Zane. He had to pretend that Zane was a human. That Jay hadn't helped build him. That they hadn't grown up together. That Jay wasn't his brother long before they were ninja.

So he rebuilds their relationship from the ground up, starting with his name.

"I'm Jay! It's great to meet you!"

--------------------------------------

Zane grows to see Jay as a little brother, and gladly lets Jay taste the food he makes, ignoring the sad look in Jay's eyes when he does so. He learns that Jay loves to invent, that he's especially fond of cold weather despite him being the Master of Lightning, and enjoys reading books before resting for the night. Jay tries to read to Zane, but Zane is more confused by the practice, and Jay soon stops, his voice soft as he says goodnight.

Jay learns to talk to Zane like they are just meeting, pushing away the inside jokes they once shared, and tried to make new ones. He tastes Zane's cooking, trains beside him, and plays videogames with him. It's good, it's nice, but it's not the same. He still misses everything. He still misses his brother. Every part of him wants flip that memory switch, make Zane remember, but he couldn't. He couldn't do that to Zane or his father.

Zane was happy. Dr. Julien was safe. And that was all that mattered.

--------------------------------------

Zane does eventually learn he's a robot, back in Jay's childhood workshop, in the woods that they both had called home. Jay has to pretend that he didn't know, and acts shocked around the others. But Jay never counted on Zane finding the memory switch so soon, and flipping it.

Zane remembers. After all of those years, he remembers.

As soon as Jay saw Zane's eyes, right after he defeated the Treehorns, he saw a recognition that he hadn't seen in years, one that reminded him of late nights talking, making pillow forts, drawing on blueprints while singing songs that they made up as they sang.

Jay expected Zane to be mad. He no doubt wondered why Jay didn't tell him the truth, why Jay hid away, pretending to be a stranger. Why Jay had lied for so long. And he would be angry with him, wouldn't he? For lying about everything they were? Everything Zane himself was?

Jay prepared for the worst.

But Zane pulled Jay into a hug, crushing him in his comforting grip, letting Jay rest his head on his shoulder, rubbing his back steadily like he did when they were young. Jay began to cry, sobbing, shaking in Zane's arms, and Zane only held him tighter.

"Jay! I remember! You're...you're my brother. My brother!"

Jay nodded, unwilling to let go, unable to speak. Zane didn't let go.

And Zane would never let go again.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

the fact that shakespeare was a playwright is sometimes so funny to me. just the concept of the "greatest writer of the English language" being a random 450-year-old entertainer, a 16th cent pop cultural sensation (thanks in large part to puns & dirty jokes & verbiage & a long-running appeal to commoners). and his work was made to be watched not read, but in the classroom teachers just hand us his scripts and say "that's literature"

just...imagine it's 2450 A.D. and English Lit students are regularly going into 100k debt writing postdoc theses on The Simpsons screenplays. the original animation hasn't even been preserved, it's literally just scripts and the occasional SDH subtitles.txt. they've been republished more times than the Bible

[magnusbae]

To illustrate this post by @mayahawkse I would like to visualize to you the difference:

A post in 2023:

A post in 2014:

A zoom out of the same post:

This is what a community looks like.

See how in 2023 almost all of the reblogs come from the OP, from their few hours/days in the tag search. Meanwhile in 2014 the % of reblogs from OP is insignificant, because most of the reblogs come from the reblogs within the fandom, within the micro-communities formed there. You didn't need to rely on tags, or search, or being featured. Because the community took care of you, made sure to pass the work between themselves and onto their blog and exposed their followers to it. It kept works alive for years.

It's not JUST the reblog/like ratio that causing this issue, it's the type of interaction people have. They're content with scrolling and liking the search engine, instead of actually having a reblogging relationship with other blogs in their community.

Anyways, if you want to see more content you like, the only true way to make it happen is to reblog it. Likes do not forward content in no way but making OP feel nice. Reblogs on the other hand make content eternal. They make it relevant, they make it exist outside of a fickle tumblr search that hardly works on the best of days.

If you want more of something, reblog it.

[kangals]

friendly advice from vetmed: I know that when your animal has an infection that is generating a lot of discharge, you want to describe that to the veterinarian, because it’s a concerning sign. that is true. I also know that the most common word for this type of discharge is “pus,” so it’s logical that that’s the word that you’ll use when describing what’s going on. and in English, we often add a “-y” when we’re using a word as a descriptor.

but. the word. the word you are looking for. is purulent.

please stop sending in messages telling the doctor that your dog has a “pussy wound.”

[ronanlynchbf]

tshirt that says NO LIVE ORGANISM CAN CONTINUE FOR LONG TO EXIST SANELY UNDER CONDITIONS OF ABSOLUTE REALITY

[lauravian]

“Don’t let it get to that big head of yours, Merlin.

I just… thought you were dead.”

[marxism-transgenderism]

I can't stop thinking about the connection between early American settlers in the midwest and the creation of the myth of Johnny Appleseed as a way to explain away the miles and miles of indigenous food gardens as the creation of early settlers and the early Zionist settlers in Palestine who wanted to build Jewish-only farming communities and the use of the word sabra (a term used during the mandate system for a Jewish person who was born in Palestine) in global marketing to sell middle eastern foods grown exclusively by settlers rather than by indigenous Palestinians. How both are used to 'indigenize' settlers in the wider culture to the regions they invaded and erase the actual indigenous people who grew apples or corn or olive trees or chickpeas

[storusangel]

bf!satoru is the best!!! he’s constantly showering you with luxurious gifts and sweet praises. he makes sure you know you’re loved and that he would do anything for you – like fingering you on the car ride home! 

satoru’s got two fingers pumping in and out, wet plaps being heard over the sound of the radio every time he pushes his palm back in more roughly than before. he grins at the sight of you, your right arm gripping on the door while your left hand finds purchase on his arm between your legs. you whine and beg, though you’re not sure what for because you’ve already came twice, but you still do. satoru coos as you fall apart on his fingers. “shhh, angel. ‘toru knows what you need, just keep grinding that pretty pussy on my hand”

[bluerosefox]

Her Astrophel and Sterling

hmmm

Hmmmmmmmm

You know what.

You know those AU's where the Batfam finds or learns about either hidden or thought to be dead Al Ghul Danny! with a deaged/daughter Dani (Ellie) (I should know, I created a few of those storylines) but what if, now hear me out, what if instead of them finding Danny first its Talia.

Do I want Talia discovering her thought to be dead son to be alive? Yes. Do I want her to find him while investigating Amity Park when the League gets reports of 'Lazarus creatures/water'? Yes.

DO I WANT HER TO KNOCK ON THE FENTON'S DOOR, fully ready to pretend/honey talk her way into the house to uncover what the Fenton's know, ONLY TO MEET A LITTLE ELLIE?!

YES.

Ellie whose eyes and hair look like a copy of her Beloved but she can see bits and pieces of herself as well. Talia knows the child in front of her was not fully her's though but everything makes sense when she hears a voice, a voice she hasn't heard in ages but as a mother just knows, speak out.

"Ellie! I thought I said do not answer the door my Sterling."

"But Daddy, yous was busy fighting the hotdoggys!"

Talia's eyes widen when she finally catches sight of familiar black hair and blue eyes.

and she could only lightly whisper a old nickname she hasn't dared uttered in ages, a name she secretly gave her son due to his love of the stars "Astrophel..."

[gerardwaygirlmoments]

Picture of Dorian Gray AU where he's a celebrity in the modern day (broadly speaking) and his stans post pics of him looking the same through the years on Twitter and caption them "How you age when you're unproblematic 💖💖💖"

[redysetdare]

enough stories about how someone learns to truely be happy through love. i want a story where someone is desperately seeking out love thinking it's the only way to be happy only for them to learn by the end that happiness is what they make of it and they don't need love at all to make it.

[girlboyburger]

[rapidhighway]

my love for him is stronger than any other force in the universe

[robo-writing]

How different Logan’s would eat you out <3

X1, X2, and X3

✦A mix between ravenous and romantic. He wants you to know just how much you’re loved, and he expresses that by how long he can eat your pussy without stopping. savoring each and every movement from you, he actually enjoys when you lose control and tighten your legs around his head, moaning something along the lines of you’ll be the death of me as he laps at your cunt.

Your thighs quake around his head, hands in his hair as you look down at him. He’s having the time of his life, licking at your pussy like it’s the last thing he’ll do in this life, pulling you down and forcing you to sit right on his face.

“Don’t need air, stay,” he mumbles, eyes looking up at you. “Just stay here for me sweetheart.”

You want to protest but goddamn does he make it hard for you, especially when his hands grip the fat of your ass and grind you onto his lips. Higher and higher, you feel your orgasm taking hold with each movement.

“Logan, gonna come,” you whine, and he pushes you as far down as you can go.

“Come on my face doll,” he groans, tonguing at your shaking entrance. “Get my face nice and wet, yeah?”

Origins Wolverine

✦Lovey dovey sickeningly sweet romantic sex; down for anything as long as you’re involved. Sit on his face? Gladly. Pull your legs over his shoulders? Just say when. The kind of lover whose heart skips a beat every time he sees you naked like it's the first time, despite the fact that you're married with a house. Speaks to your pussy as if it’s separate from you.

“How’s my girl doing? Doing alright?”

Your answer is a moan, your pussy clenching around nothing. Logan smiles at your response, thumb stroking up to press against your sensitive clit.

“Yeah, doing just fine ain’t you?” He breathes, kissing the hardened nub before returning to suck on it, your legs shaking in response. “And my other girl’s nice and ready ain’t she?”

“Baby,” you whine, desperate to cum. He’s edged you for as long as possible and you’re almost certain if you wait any longer you’ll actually die. Thankfully Logan grants you mercy, tightening his hold on your thighs as he focuses all his effort into making your pussy leak on his face.

“Come for me sweetheart,” he groans, and you do. Fingers digging into the sheets, you feel your orgasm take hold as Logan wrings every ounce of pleasure he can, kissing at your thighs when your overstimulated pussy can’t take any more.

You barely catch your breath before he speaks to your cunt, admiring how your come trails down your thighs.

“There she is,” he chuckles, index finger slowly collecting the remains of your juices, admiring how they glisten in the low light of your bedroom. “Nice and satisfied, ain’t she?”

DOFP Logan

✦Second biggest munch. Running from danger constantly doesn’t make a lot of time for sex so whenever he finds the rare opportunity to do so best believe he’s jumping at it. Likes to joke that he’s started to go grey because he can’t fuck you as often as he likes. Truly eats you out like he needs your pussy more than he needs air.

“Need to be quiet baby,” he growls, pinning your thrashing hips against the wall. “You’re going to get us caught.”

It’s one of the rare days when you’ve found a safe house, even rarer that it’s just you and Logan alone for once. One look at his face and you already knew what was running through that adamantium skull of his, dragging you away to the nearest closet where you’ve been for god knows how long—the concept of time always seems to leave you wherever Logan’s talented mouth is involved.

You’re biting at your hand to muffle your moans but it’s still not enough, free hand tangled in his graying strands as an anchor. You can see his eyes roll back at the feeling, sloppily kissing up your pussy.

“God I wanna hear you,” he moans. “I’d give anything to fuckin’ hear you baby, but you’ve gotta behave for me. Don’t want anyone else seein’ this.”

The scene is something straight out of a porno—your legs hooked over his shoulders as he eats your cunt feverishly, the filthy sounds he makes with each movement, your hips desperately chasing his mouth—you wish this could never end.

70s Logan

✦By far the most selfish, he eats you out for his pleasure alone. He doesn’t give a damn if you’re crawling away, he will pull you back and lock his lips around your clit until you’re damn near thrashing in his arms, grinding against the mattress because that's just how hard he is. He won’t apologize for making you pass out, nor will he stay the night, but if he likes you enough you might find a card on your nightstand with his number hastily scribbled onto it.

When you decided to bring tall, dark, and grumpy home you didn’t expect it to end with tears running down your face, practically begging for a reprieve that won’t come. His hands lock together, forcing you still as he eats you out, not giving a damn about how pathetic you sound.

“Quit fuckin’ squirming,” he grunts, nosing at your pussy. “Lemme enjoy this.”

The man is talented, that’s a fact. Knows just how to push your buttons in all the right ways, but the problem is that he’s pushed your buttons nearly three times already and you’re almost certain his beard is going to give you the worst rash you’ve ever had.

But damn it if he isn’t responsible for some of the best orgasms you’ve ever had.

“Logan, fuck—lemme take a break,” you’re begging at this point, slapping at his shoulders when he doesn’t let up. Your breath catches in your chest when he smacks your thigh roughly in response, smiling against your pussy when he feels you clench in response.

“Don’t tell me you’re not enjoying yourself,” he mocks, showing just how true his words ring when his fingers rub circles against your clit.

You swear you can feel any coherent thoughts leak out of your ears, focused solely on coming. It’s embarrassing how well he plays your body like a fine tuned instrument, but you can’t bring yourself to care when you’re squirting a mess onto your mattress.

“There we go, ain’t that a sight?” He laughs, pulling you closer towards his face. “Now, be a good little slut and behave while I enjoy my meal, okay?”

Old Man Logan

✦#1 munch and it’s not even close. When his job leaves him tired and his body is sore he finds comfort between your legs, it’s the only time he can turn his brain off and drown himself in you. He’s so fucking starved that he’ll genuinely get lost in his own headspace and ignore your thrashing and whining just to wring another orgasm from your tired body. Kisses your labia and mutters how she's such a pretty pussy as you're trying to catch your breath.

Logan didn't even bother to shed his clothes, making a beeline directly to you the moment he stepped inside your shared home. Dirt still settled on his skin, his head nestled into the crook of your neck as your bodies sway within the closed off kitchen. "Missed me, huh?" you ask, his sigh answer plenty. "Always miss you princess," he whispers, pulling you closer. He lifts you up with warning, sitting you down on the countertop, kneeling between your dangling legs. His beard tickles your bare skin, pulling you close enough to place a kiss onto your pussy, right over the fabric of your panties. "Fuck," you sigh. "You really missed me." His smile is infectious, nuzzling against your fabric-covered core. He kisses you through it for a while before peeling off the moistened garment, thumbs reaching to stroke your pussy. The sight makes your skin hot, hands tangled in his hair. "Been waiting all fuckin' day for this," he moans, spreading you apart and indulging in your juices. "Can tell you were waiting for me too." You feel your body melt with every touch, Logan's hands an anchor as he makes out with your heat, nose bumping against your clit with each movement.

Worst Logan

✦Still trying to wrap his head around you wanting to be with him, but goddamn if he isn’t grateful. Reverent, like a sinner at an alter. Your word is law, likes it when you pull him by the hair and show him where you need it, loves it when you tell him how good he’s doing, presses himself further into your pussy when you’re ready to come. It's all about you and he wouldn't have it any other way.

You lovingly stroke his hair, back arching when he kisses your clit oh so gently.

“Lemme take a look at you,” you ask, and the sight of him is enough to make you come.

Face red, blushing so hard it reaches his chest, eyes so glazed over with lust his pupils leave nothing but small rings of green in his eyes. You cradle his face and the weight of his head falls into them immediately, chasing your touch.

“Gonna make me feel good, aren’t you?” You ask, and he nods his head, kissing your palm.

“Lemme taste you baby,” he whispers. “Swear to god I’ll make you feel good.”

“Never doubted you for a second Logan,” you whisper back, tugging his head back to your soaked cunt. He breathes in your scent, fucking groans at the sight of your pussy before he descends on it, noisily showing you just how much he meant his words.

“Fuckin’ delicious baby, so fuckin’ wet,” he moans. “Can’t get enough of you.”

He only gets louder when you pull him forward by the hair, rough hands leaving a mark where his fingers grip your skin.

[kidokear]

I forgot how to render! :'D Still went with complicated lighting anyway. (。・ω・。)

Gabriel is kneeling by the way. (￣y▽￣)╭

[be-it-so]

My favorite headcanon about gods and the mortals is that gods never understand how fragile humans are and don't understand how deep god's touches go through mortal's skin. (or simply don't care)

Athena will make Diomedes's grip on his spear stronger pushing his fingers tighter and almost breaking his bones. She fixes his position making his stance perfect, but human's body was never able to get into position this perfect so his muscles will be tearing and his bones will be cracking just to be instantly healed. When Athena removes her hands, his body will be covered in bruises.

Odysseus will always feel burning and at the same time freezing gaze on his back while Athena watches him across the battlefield. His ears will be filled with her breath and whisper, that will ring in his head long after she ended speaking. She will help him shot an arrow, and he will feel his joints moving in the way they were never supposed to move.

When Apollo turns all the spears and arrows away from the Hector he will still feel them digging into his flash. Apollo will raise him from the dust again and again, and Hector won't be able to stand without hearing god's voice in his ears and feeling god's burning touch on his shoulders. He closes his eyes and still sees the light.

Helen will stand tall to speak up to Paris, and Aphrodite will place her hands on Helen's shoulders to remind her of goddess's presence and this flaming grip will weight as heavy as ten years of war. Aphrodite will wash Helen's face so her skin will shine brighter and eyes will haunt every man in the room, and the only thing Helen feels is her skin freezing from the coldness of Aphrodite's hands.

And those touches won't end with battle or even with war. Every time Diomedes fights he will feel his body taking the exact position Athena once made him in, his limbs will come into shape they were never meant to be in, without deforming cause Athena already fixed them, once she already designed him according to her vision. Every time Odysseus lies his words will echo in his head just like Athena's words did before, every time he uses a bow, arrow in his hands will feel like a burning torch or like an ice, and his joints and tendons will sing in a perfect copy of the song Athena made them perform inside his body on the battlefield. Every time Helen will square her shoulders to feel herself more confident she will feel burning touch on her chin pushing it up and freezing breath in her hair. She will look at her husband and shadow of tight grip on her shoulders will become shadow of sharp nails digging into her skin, holding her in place.

Even dying at Achilles's hands and falling to the ground Hector would still hear an order in his head telling him to get up and fight, his own blood running down a neck will feel like Apollo's hands forcing him back to his feet.

No mortal ever forgets a god's touch.