So I'm Making A Kurt Wagner Plushie And I Wanna Know What You All Think! He's Not Done Yet So Far But

What's the one hmo that NONE of your friends can agree with you on? Mine are either 1)

Cardinal Terzo.

BOOM SHACKALA YAS LAWDDD

Or 2)

Taz Skylar

HOW CAN NONE OF MY FRIENDS FIND THIS MAN HOT???

[Tones]

I'm starting to obsess over One Piece men and if younger me saw me now, liking Law, younger me would look at me like I'm insane.

Synopsis; In a game of Truth or Dare, the crew dare you to try and get Law to say your name differently than his usual flat, monotone, depressed tone. What happens when you get him to say your name in a way that leaves everyone stunned?

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The night had started off as harmless fun. Just another evening aboard the Polar Tang, where the crew had gathered in the common room, passing drinks and laughing as the game of Truth or Dare spiraled into absurdity. Shachi and Penguin were already red-faced from their previous dares—one of which had involved an unfortunate mix of hot sauce and rum—while Bepo sported a streak of ink down his fur from losing a bet.

And now, it was your turn.

“I dare you,” Shachi declared with a mischievous grin, “to make Law say your name differently.”

The room erupted into laughter and murmurs of approval, and you swore you saw a few pitying looks thrown your way.

“Oh, that is cruel,” Penguin cackled. “He never changes his tone, even when he is pissed.”

You tilted your head, considering. “Any rules?”

“Nope,” Bepo said cheerfully. “Just get him to say it differently. Do whatever you need to.”

You turned to Law, who was seated with his arms crossed, golden eyes half-lidded, and already radiating exhaustion. He had tolerated the game thus far—just barely—but now he exhaled a slow, measured sigh, as if this was the precise moment he regretted not rooming himself out of the situation earlier.

“This is stupid,” he muttered, monotone as always.

“Come on, Captain,” Bepo chimed in. “It is just a dare.”

Your lips curled into a smirk. “Looks like we are doing this, Law.”

His gaze flickered over to you, expression unreadable. “You are wasting your turn.”

Challenge accepted.

You started with the easiest option—annoyance.

You scooted a little closer and began lightly poking his arm. “Law.” Poke. “Laaaaw.” Poke. “LAAAAAAAA—”

A gloved hand caught your wrist mid-motion. His grip was firm, not rough, and his fingers were warm through the thin leather. He held you still, golden eyes locked onto yours with the same deadpan expression he always wore, though the weight behind his gaze felt heavier now, like he was already considering ways to get rid of you.

“You are insufferable,” he said, perfectly monotone.

Damn. Okay. New strategy.

You went for shock value next, gasping dramatically. “Oh no, I forgot! I borrowed your coat earlier and left it in the engine room near Shachi and Penguin. They were playing with—what was it?—motor oil?”

There—an almost imperceptible twitch of his eyebrow.

“That better be a joke.”

Still nothing in his tone.

Fine. Time for a different approach.

You scooted just a bit closer, resting your chin in your palm as you studied him. His posture remained unchanged—lazy yet controlled, one arm resting against his knee—but you noticed the way his gaze tracked your every movement.

“You know, Law,” you murmured, voice dipping just slightly, “you are actually kind of fun when you loosen up.”

A whistle from someone in the crew. A few scattered laughs. Shachi and Penguin exchanged wide-eyed glances, nudging each other excitedly.

Still, Law did not react. His face was unreadable, though there was something sharper in his gaze now.

“You must be desperate to win this dare,” he muttered.

Ugh. Nothing.

Alright. Nuclear option it is.

You leaned in just enough that your voice was only for him, lowering it to a hushed murmur.

“I bet you would say my name differently if I kissed you.”

The shift in the air was instant.

It was subtle—so subtle that if you had not been watching him this closely, you might have missed it. The way his fingers flexed just slightly against his arm. The slow inhale through his nose, controlled but deliberate. The slight narrowing of his eyes, his focus zeroing in on you like you had just crossed a dangerous, invisible line.

The crew was still laughing, still talking, but none of that mattered anymore.

Because Law was looking at you now, not in the idle, indifferent way he usually did, but with something else entirely.

And then—

“[Y/N].”

The way he said your name—it was different. Lower, heavier, carrying the slightest rasp, like the warning before a storm. Like a dare of his own.

Your breath caught, heat rising to your face before you could stop it.

The game was still going, but you were no longer playing. Not really.

Because Law did not look away.

And neither did you.

You barely noticed the crew moving on to the next person, their laughter fading into background noise as the two of you remained locked in this standoff. His golden eyes held yours, sharp and assessing, as if waiting—expecting—you to back down first.

But you were not about to back down now.

“I win,” you murmured, tilting your head.

Law’s lips curled—just barely. “Do you?”

The way he said it sent a shiver down your spine.

And then, before you could second-guess yourself, before the crew could turn their attention back to you, before logic could interrupt whatever reckless impulse was pushing you forward—you closed the distance between you.

Your lips brushed against his, soft but deliberate.

The moment they touched, you swore you felt him still for a fraction of a second. It was brief—so brief you almost thought you imagined it—but then his gloved hand lifted, fingers ghosting over your jaw, his grip neither pulling you closer nor pushing you away.

And then, as if deciding something in the space of a heartbeat—Law kissed you back.

It was slow at first, controlled—of course it was, he was always in control—but there was an undeniable pull beneath it, a quiet intensity that sent heat curling in your stomach. His lips were warm, the faintest hint of something sharp lingering at the edges of his restraint, and when he finally pulled back, just barely, you found yourself lingering too close.

He did not speak immediately. Instead, he studied you, golden eyes searching—like he was trying to figure something out, or maybe waiting for you to.

The tension between you was almost unbearable.

And then, finally—

“Hm,” Law murmured, voice dipping into something unreadable. “I guess you were right.”

Your heart stuttered. “Right about what?”

His lips twitched. Not quite a smirk, not quite a smile.

“You did make me say your name differently.”

And that was when you realized—

You had not won the dare.

You had just started an entirely new game.

Trapped in the Space Between Us

Synopsis: After a mission goes wrong, you and Scott Summers are stranded together in a freezing storm with no way out. Forced into close quarters, unspoken feelings finally come to light, changing everything between you.

Warnings; None! Enjoy kits!

Requested from @milkbean69!

The jet hit turbulence harder than expected, and you gripped the edge of your seat as the lights flickered. Scott’s voice came over the comm, steady and in control as always, but you could hear the edge of concern beneath it.

“We’re going down,” he said, his tone sharp with urgency. “Brace yourselves.”

You barely had time to react before the crash landing. Everything blurred, and the next thing you knew, the jet had stopped moving. The alarms were blaring, and you scrambled to unbuckle yourself, your heart pounding in your chest.

Scott was already out of his seat, helping you up. “You okay?” he asked, his jaw clenched, his visor reflecting the blinking red lights.

“Yeah, I think so.” You rubbed your arm, where you’d hit the side of the seat, but it was nothing serious. “What about the others?”

“Already on it,” he replied. “Storm’s handling the situation, but we’re going to have to wait here until we can get help. We’re not going anywhere for a while.”

You swallowed hard as you looked around the now-ruined jet. The rest of the team had already gone to survey the crash site, leaving you and Scott behind to secure the ship. A cold wind howled outside, shaking the structure, and it didn’t take long to realize how isolated you were. Snow was piling up quickly outside, and with the jet down and communication systems failing, you were trapped.

Just you and Scott.

“I’ll check the supplies,” Scott said, breaking the silence. He was already moving, trying to stay focused, but you could tell from his body language that he wasn’t thrilled with the situation either.

Minutes passed as you worked to secure the jet’s systems, and the cold air seeped in through the cracks, making the small space feel even smaller. You were both stuck in the cockpit with barely enough room to move, the wind howling louder now, rattling the metal walls around you.

“Guess we’re not going anywhere soon,” you muttered, sitting down on the bench, wrapping your arms around yourself for warmth.

Scott glanced at you, the tension in his shoulders still apparent. “We’ll get out of here. We just need to be patient.” His words were calm, but there was a flicker of something beneath the surface—maybe frustration, maybe concern. It was hard to tell with him sometimes.

The minutes ticked by slowly, the space between you and Scott feeling tighter with every passing second. You could hear him shifting, adjusting his position, trying to stay calm, but it was obvious that being stuck like this wasn’t exactly ideal for either of you.

The temperature kept dropping, and after a while, the cold was becoming impossible to ignore. You glanced at him, catching him watching you. His visor hid his eyes, but the way his body tensed made it clear he had noticed your shivering.

“Come here,” he said suddenly, his voice low but firm.

“What?”

“We need to conserve heat. If we don’t stay warm, we’ll both be in trouble.” He shifted, making room on the narrow bench next to him. “It’s not ideal, but it’s necessary.”

You hesitated, your heart beating a little faster at the thought of being that close to him. Scott wasn’t exactly known for being the most emotionally open person, and the idea of sitting pressed up against him in this tiny space sent a wave of tension through you.

But you didn’t have a choice. Reluctantly, you moved closer, feeling the warmth of his body immediately as you sat down next to him. It was a strange kind of intimacy, one that neither of you had prepared for, but the cold left little room for options. You shifted, trying to get comfortable, though every move seemed to make you more aware of just how close you were to him.

For a moment, the silence stretched between you, thick and heavy, the only sound the faint howl of the wind outside. His arm brushed against yours, and even through your layers, you felt the contact.

Scott cleared his throat. “This isn’t exactly what I had in mind for the mission.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension breaking just a little. “Yeah, me neither.”

But even as the small bit of humor lightened the mood, the proximity between you felt more intense than ever. The weight of his presence, the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the warmth of his body—it all pressed down on you, making it harder to think clearly.

The wind outside howled even louder, and despite the layers of clothing and gear, the cold was still biting at your skin. You shifted slightly, your shoulder pressing more firmly against Scott’s. He stiffened for a moment before relaxing, letting the tension in his body ease, as if giving in to the necessity of being close.

For a few moments, neither of you spoke, the air between you filled with the hum of the broken systems and the distant storm outside. But the weight of the silence wasn’t just from the cold. It was something more—something that had been lingering between the two of you for a while, but neither of you had dared to acknowledge it.

Scott shifted next to you, his gloved hand brushing yours for just a second. The touch sent a jolt through you, even though it had been unintentional. You glanced over at him, wondering if he felt it too, but his face was as unreadable as ever behind his visor.

Still, the tension was impossible to ignore.

“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, his voice quiet, almost hesitant.

“For what?” you asked, surprised.

“For… this,” he gestured vaguely at the cramped cockpit and the freezing conditions. “You shouldn’t be stuck here like this. I should’ve done better.”

You shook your head, unable to stop the small smile that tugged at your lips. “It’s not your fault, Scott. No one could’ve predicted this.”

He was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was even quieter. “I should’ve kept you out of danger.”

“Scott, we’re in this together. I chose this life just like you did. It’s not your job to protect me.”

He turned toward you then, his face only inches from yours. The proximity made your breath catch, and for the first time, you could feel the heat radiating off him, despite the cold that surrounded you. His jaw clenched, and his expression softened, like he was wrestling with something inside himself.

“I can’t help it,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “I can’t help but want to keep you safe.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. The raw honesty in them caught you off guard—Scott wasn’t the type to let his emotions slip so easily. You’d seen him be strong, stoic, always in control. But here, now, in this small, confined space, something had changed. There was vulnerability in the way he looked at you, something deeper than his usual sense of responsibility.

You swallowed, your voice quiet. “Why?”

He hesitated, his breathing uneven. “Because you’re… different. You’re not just another teammate. You’re…” His voice trailed off, and he glanced away, struggling with the words.

The room felt even smaller, the air between you thick with unspoken feelings. Before you could second-guess it, you leaned in, closing the small distance between you. Your lips brushed his—soft, tentative, just enough to test the waters.

For a second, he didn’t move, as if frozen by the moment. But then, almost cautiously, he responded. His hand came up to cup the side of your face, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss just enough to make your heart race. The warmth of him chased away the cold, and in that brief moment, the outside world seemed to disappear.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, Scott’s face was still close, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. His lips parted, and you could see the conflict in his expression—the careful control he always held teetering on the edge of something more.

“I’ve wanted to tell you for a while,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “But I couldn’t. Not until now.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. “Tell me what?”

“That I care about you,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “More than I should. More than I ever planned to.”

You exhaled softly, your own feelings rushing to the surface. “I feel the same way, Scott.”

For the first time since you’d known him, Scott’s guard dropped completely. He leaned in again, capturing your lips in another kiss—this one deeper, more certain. The cold, the storm, the broken jet—all of it faded into the background as the weight of everything unsaid finally found its voice.

When you pulled away again, his forehead rested against yours, and for the first time, the tension between you felt lighter, as if a weight had been lifted. The forced proximity that had once felt like a burden now felt like the moment you both had been waiting for.

Do not copy or translate plz! -CallMe_Bunni

𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕝𝕖 ℝ𝕖𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕤

Synopsis; After a nightmare brings Kurt's painful memories of the circus flooding back, he seeks comfort in your presence. Through gentle words and unwavering reassurance, you remind him he’s safe, loved, and finally free of his past.

Warnings; None, enjoy kits!

Requested by @hulkingharbor

A soft whimper stirs you from sleep, faint yet unmistakable. Blinking, you sit up, the dim light from the hallway spilling just enough into your room to reveal a figure curled up in the chair by the door. Even in the shadows, the familiar silhouette—his curled tail, his fur-covered arms hugging himself tightly—tells you it’s Kurt.

“Kurt?” you murmur, voice soft so as not to startle him.

He flinches, his head lifting slightly as his golden eyes meet yours, still clouded with remnants of whatever nightmare had him in its grip. His hands shake, gripping his arms as though grounding himself. His voice is barely a whisper. “I… I did not mean to disturb you.”

“You’re not disturbing me,” you say, easing yourself off the bed and crossing the room. Kneeling down in front of him, you reach out, gently resting your hand on his. “Did you have a nightmare?”

He nods, looking away, shame edging his gaze. “It… it was about the circus,” he admits, voice tight with remembered pain. “Sometimes, it still haunts me. The cage, the… the crowds, their faces full of fear and hatred. They treated me like an animal, like a… monster.” His voice cracks, barely able to hold back the shame that lingers from all those years.

You squeeze his hand. “Kurt, you’re not a monster. You never were.”

He closes his eyes, as if the words are something he wants to believe but hasn’t fully accepted. “It was not just their words,” he says, his voice strained. “They—there were nights I would not get food, times I was… punished. I still feel the ache from it sometimes, like phantome in my bones.”

Your heart aches, and without a second thought, you pull him into a gentle embrace, wrapping your arms around him. He tenses, surprised, before finally allowing himself to relax into your touch, his breathing gradually evening out as he settles in your arms.

“They were wrong,” you murmur softly against his shoulder. “Those people were cruel, Kurt. But you’re safe now. You’re with people who care about you, who see you for who you truly are.”

He sighs, his head leaning against you, seeming to absorb every word. “It is… hard to remember that sometimes,” he says softly, his voice vulnerable in a way you’ve rarely heard before. “I know I am here, but… it is easy to feel like I am back there again.”

You run your hand down his back gently, hoping to chase away whatever ghosts linger there. “Then I’ll be here to remind you,” you say firmly. “Whenever you need, I’ll remind you that you’re loved, that you’re worthy of kindness, of respect, of happiness. I won’t let you go back to that place—not in your mind, not ever.”

He looks at you, and this time his gaze holds something like hope. “Danke,” he whispers, voice thick. “I do not know what I have done to deserve someone like you.”

“You don’t have to do anything, Kurt,” you say, giving his hand one last squeeze. “You just have to let yourself be loved. Can you do that?”

After a moment, he nods, leaning into you a little more. For tonight, the shadows from his past fade, and as he drifts back to sleep beside you, his breathing finally at peace, you know he believes—if only a little bit—that he’s safe and loved.

Plz do not copy or translate! -Callme_Bunni

Titles

Quicksilver-  ↫ ↬

Wolverine- 彡 彡

Scott Summers- 💥 💥

Gambit- 🂡

Kurt- 🌒 🌘

Hank- 🧪 🥼

Charles- 𖡎 🧠

Magneto- 🔗🧲

I got a new phone bc mine was glitching out and was rlly old and was dying fast but like- Is it spoiled to say I don't want it? I AM GRATEFUL DO NOT GET ME WRONG IM HAOPY MY MOM GOT ME THIS AND PAYED FOR IT- But I was happy with my old one. I had everything I ever needed and sure, it died fast and it'd glitch and everything but I liked it. Maybe I'm just being privileged(?) Idk guys.

{I love Wade. He's so silly}

Guess who just spam-wrote like- I dunno 3 fics? All requests.

HUGH JACKMAN LET ME BITE YOUR ARMS PLZZZZZZZ-

Reblog if you write fan fiction

Doesn’t matter if you write in a frequent basis, or once in a blue moon, just how many of us are there?

2 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

I generally did not notice how long I've had Tumblr tbh 😅