#obsessed with his short shorts
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applepixls Ā· 1 month ago
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so we have an answer to the question, why badtimeswithscar had a grian head on
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accountability board.
follow up question, why is it that whenever he needs grian's head he wants the cuteguy skin? and why did he use his hotguy head rather than the normal one?
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purplecritter Ā· 5 months ago
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Emmrich: The Necromancer
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Other refs:
Rook: The Player's Character
Harding: The Scout
Neve: The Detective
Emmrich: The Necromancer [you're here]
Taash: The Dragon Hunter
Davrin: The Warden
Bellara: The Veil Jumper
Lucanis: The Mage Killer
Varric: The Silver Fox
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turtleblogatlast Ā· 1 year ago
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Imagine little Turtle Tot Leo practicing his best Lou Jitsu grin in the mirror during the nights he canā€™t sleep. Heā€™s gotta be just like his idol, after all! So he masters the art of the cocky grin, slowly perfecting his imitation.
Eventually that confident grin becomes his default one, and the quiet, happy smile that heā€™s born with, the one that he first greets his father with, that one is the rarity.
Until the invasion happens. Until he throws himself into the Prison Dimension. Until heā€™s beaten within an inch of his life and heā€™s holding onto his last remnant of his family through sheer willpower alone.
In that moment, looking at the photo of the ones he loves, that quiet smile comes back.
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sophfandoms53 Ā· 4 months ago
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An insane sequence of events im still losing my mind that this happened
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dreamtuna Ā· 11 months ago
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Showering Together
Attack on Titan - Levi x Reader || smut, well youā€™ll have to imagine some of it, fem!Reader
Not very Christmassy, but consider this a present to y'all nonetheless.
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Levi loved showering with you. The first time he suggested it you were hardly surprised but you were a little apprehensive. Despite him having seen your body many times by this point, showering together felt like a whole different kind of intimacy, one you hadnā€™t really explored many times in past relationships. But the way his eyes lit up when you agreed quickly soothed your nerves.
His gentle gaze on you as you undressed together, insisting on helping you with the buttons on your blouse in a way that left his fingers trailing against your bare skin, it was all so hypnotising. He pulled you in under the stream of water, checking if the temperature was okay for you, checking you were comfortable doing this with him. His softness in the way he handled you was driving you wild with desire. A burning affection for him engulfed your core.
Things only heated up further as he manoeuvred behind you, close enough to feel his warmth against your skin. Soapy hands worked their way over your back, your shoulders, down your arms, lathering up your skin underneath expert fingers. His lips came in to kiss your ear and you found yourself sinking back into his love.
Those expert fingers worked their way round to your stomach and then ever so slowly upwards, checking your reaction every step of the way before finally cupping your breasts. You could feel his desire twitch against your body. His heat hung heavy against your ass. You didnā€™t even mean to grind against him, but as his hands fondled your breasts, tugging gently at your nipples the way he knew you liked until you gasped and moaned for him, well, you just couldnā€™t help but rub back against him. Leviā€™s soft gasps were everything.
He continued like this for a while, his hands working rougher and rougher as your self control melted for him and you threw your head back onto his shoulder, until finally he released you. You whined at the loss of contact. The fire between your legs was unbearable. You needed his touch. You needed him.
ā€œShh, shh, my pretty girl,ā€ he told you, hand working its way under your thigh to lift your leg for him. ā€œYouā€™ll have plenty to make noise about in a second.ā€
Levi loved showering with you. He loved the smell of your clean hair. He loved the softness of your skin. And most of all he loved the pure bliss on your face as he cleaned up the mess he made of you in there.
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tusks-and-claws Ā· 1 year ago
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The Death of Peace of Mind
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Miguel Oā€™hara x female reader
Summary: "I miss the way you say my name/the way you bend, the way you break"
You think your fearless leader needs help relaxing, but another door is opened entirely
Tags/warnings: smut (18+), oneshot, fingering, blowjob, pronebone, blood, biting, unprotected sex, paralytic venom, dominant Miguel, dirty talk, God thereā€™s so much to list : )
Word count: 3.3kĀ 
Can also be found on Ao3 here. Please give it some love if you enjoyed ;_;
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"I know better than this, I shouldn't beā€¦ we shouldn't be doing this."
Miguel O'Hara sat at the edge of your bed, your room softly illuminated by a candle on the bedside table. He liked the dark. His back was to you, his broad shoulders slumped forward, as you had your back against your headboard. He was still in his suit, his mask off.
"Miguelā€¦" you said, starting this conversation again for the umpteenth time. "You have needs, too, y'know."Ā 
He waved a hand dismissively. "What are my needs when compared to all this?" He gestured to nothing. You weren't even at HQ. You were both in your dimension. A vacation, you had said. You could never get him to leave HQ for long. "I know what happens when I try to get what I want. When I go where I don't belong."
You furrowed your brow. "But you do belong here, I invited you."
"You know exactly what I mean." He spoke quickly. Trying to expel the words as fast as possible.Ā 
Your arms crossed over your chest as you eyed him. He'd been through a lot, yes, but what Spider hadn't? How long was he going to keep ignoring himself for the greater good? What purpose would he serve if he tore himself apart?Ā 
"You're right," you said, finally.Ā 
"What?" He asked, peering over his shoulder to look at you, incredulous.Ā 
"You're right," you repeated. "You can leave."
"Iā€¦ well. I suppose I can leave. Do youā€¦ want me to?"
You suppressed a smile. "I don't really care," you lied.Ā 
"Youā€¦?" He turned around at that, hands on the bed as he swiveled his torso to meet your eyes. "You can't be serious. I- I made the effort to make sure Jess could cover me so we could come here, Iā€¦ it's a huge waste of time. You see that, don't you?"Ā 
"I guess so." It was hard for you to break eye contact with him, but you managed to do it, and stared pointedly out the window.Ā 
"You 'guess,' I can't-" he rubbed his face with his hands. "You're so frustrating, I can't read you, you-"Ā 
Your face broke, betraying you, a smirk cracking your faƧade.
He narrowed his eyes, fully turning around now, bringing his knees up onto the bed to crawl to you. His claws came out, and they pulled at the threads of your comforter, threatening to tear holes. "Is this what you want? You want to make me mad?"Ā 
You blushed as he made his way to you, his sudden intensity stirring you into silence.Ā 
"Well?" He asked. "Suddenly so quiet." He reached you now, looming over you with both hands on the headboard on either side of you, his muscular thighs straddling your legs. His huge frame took up your whole vision, his presence overwhelming your heightened senses. Heat was radiating from his body. His scent washed over you. He was all clean musk and warmth and something deeper, something primal. It played to your baser mind, telling you to lose control and give in.Ā 
You swallowed. "You have no need to stay here." You weren't done teasing him just yet.Ā 
"But you have need, hm?" He looked down to study your form, releasing his hands from the headboard to touch the hem of your shirt. "Don't you?"
You held your breath, nodding.
"Say it." His tone was casual. Flippant.
Your breath left you as your lips parted to speak, the words far from you as your brain grew foggy. He always liked to hear you admit how much you wanted it, how much you wanted him. And he always asked you when he knew you'd struggle to form a response.Ā 
"Yes." It was the only thing your brain made abundantly clear. Yes. Yes, you have needs. Yes, in this moment, he was one of them.Ā 
"Yes what?"
How cruel. Under his gaze for this long, intense and bloodshot, you grew more flustered and delirious.Ā 
"Yes, Miguel, I have need of you." You impressed yourself with the eloquence of your reply.Ā 
"Oh? Oh, do you?" His hands finally moved again, snaking under the bottom of your shirt, the fabric of his suit keeping your skin from touching his. "That's kind of selfish of you, isn't it?"
You nodded, biting your bottom lip and closing your eyes as his hands moved to firmly hold the sides of your waist, thumbs stroking soft skin. He was being careful to not scratch you. Though his claws were retractable, you noticed throughout your encounters that he had a hard time keeping them hidden when his passions were running high. But part of you didn't care if he marked you up. Part of you wanted to keep something from him. Something more than awkward passing glances and intimate encounters that were few and far between.Ā 
"M-Miguel?"
"Mm? What is it?"
"You don't need to be gentle, yā€™know."
His gaze flicked to meet yours as he raised an eyebrow. He seemed amused.Ā 
"It's just that," for some reason, you felt the need to elaborate. "I'm strong, too. I can handle it. You've been so stressed."
"Soā€¦ you want me to use you?" His voice was low and level.Ā 
Use. The word sent a shock up your spine. He could see the emotions flashing across your face, the thoughts of him, of what he might do to you. Was this safe? Could he control himself? He'd have to. You'd just have to trust him.Ā 
You released a breath you hadn't noticed you were holding, meeting him in his bloodshot eyes. "Yes. Please."
He grinned, bearing his pearly fangs in the flickering candlelight. The fog in your head grew thicker at the sight of them. Would he bite you with them? How would they feel against your skin? How would they feel piercing you? Would it hurt? Would it-
The feeling of his bare forefinger, claw retracted, gently teasing your slit quickly shut you up. When did he move his hand under the hem of your shorts? You were so deep within your own clouded thoughts, you hadn't even noticed. He caressed you there before carefully plunging his finger into your heat. The feeling was immediately maddening. You bit your lip to keep yourself from asking for more, for another finger, for his mouth, for his- no. You were following his pace. This was what you wanted, yes, but it was mostly for him. You somehow knew that he needed this more than you did, though he'd never admit it.
The whole time, he kept his reddened eyes on your face, studying every reaction. "You're wet, you're so wetā€¦." His voice was quiet. "So, this is what does it for you, huh?" He pumped his finger at a steady pace. You could hear the wet sounds he elicited with his efforts. You braced yourself on his hulking shoulders, preparing for him to quicken at any moment. But he was agonizingly slow. His free hand gripped the headboard above you as he leaned down to whisper into your ear. "Me, your leader, using you." There was that word again. You lightly arched your back into him upon hearing it, trying to keep yourself calm for now. Falling apart could come later. "I try so hard to hold it all together. But youā€¦ you threaten me. The looks you give me, your smiles, your smell, estoy cachondo, fuck." Your eyes widened. He only spoke Spanish when his emotions were heightened. He was unraveling.Ā 
Good.
He slipped his digit out from inside of you and circled your clit with a slick fingertip. The feeling was intense and electric, and even though you were still half-pinned by his muscular thighs, your upper body curled into him. "Seeing you like thisā€¦" he swallowed, his heartbeat quickening. "Rendering you helplessā€¦ It's revenge for how you make me feel when you look at me the way you do. If I can make you feel half of thatā€¦ that might be enough. You're going to come for me. Feel what I feel."Ā 
You nodded fervently, unable to speak under his attention, his words, his touch. That delicious, warm feeling was building up and coiling in your core as he kept expertly circling your clit, until the coil finally snapped and you came, lifting up off of the bed and throwing your arms around his neck as you whimpered. Miguel continued as you rode it out, reveling in the newfound wetness that came with your orgasm, until you finally settled down, your heart still thumping in your chest. You released your hold of him, your arms weak, your gaze heavy. He seemed to match your labored breathing, his chest rising and falling in time with yours. You had hardly even touched him and he seemed as much of a mess as you were.Ā 
He stared at you like that for a brief moment, seemingly awestruck at your reaction to this newly opened door.Ā 
"God, I needā€¦ I need your mouth around my cock." He flipped unceremoniously off of you to lay on his back at your side. "Come here." Before you had time to react, he had a hand on your head, guiding you downward. Despite the forceful movement, he fondly scratched at your scalp with bare fingers, his hand shaking just enough for you to notice. You positioned yourself so your head rested on his hard abdominals while you admired the display he brought you down to see. His hard cock pushed against his nearly metallic suit. The sheen of the fabric left almost nothing to the imagination. You could see his thick shaft, prominent veins like rivers flowing over a landscape, all leading up to the bulbous head. He twitched eagerly as he sighed, trying to calm his heart.Ā 
You reached your hand up to touch Miguel through his suit, and his reaction was bodily. He hissed a breath in through clenched teeth. You played with his hard length, running the flat of your palm up and down the underside of his shaft, until he couldn't take it anymore. He seemed to be able to dismiss parts of his suit at will, and he did just that, creating an opening so he could spring free. It was always an impressive sight, sizable and thick. His golden skin slightly red with anticipation at the head of his cock, soft dark waves of short hair at the base. Reaching up, you gently held it. You couldn't quite wrap your whole hand around it. He exhaled at your touch, skin on skin. The hand he had in your hair gently pushed your head until your waiting lips met the tip of his cock, and you accepted it, closing your mouth around it.
Miguel threw his head back, slamming it against the headboard and shaking the two of you on the bed. The sound startled you, but you knew the headboard would've taken more damage than Miguel. He gave no indication that he was hurt, and so you kept going, sucking on the tip of his cock and being as noisy as possible so it would overwhelm that heightened hearing of his. And overwhelm it did. The soft, wet heat of your mouth was nearly too much for him. And as you started to take him deeper, he reached his arms up and behind him, taking the headboard into a vice grip. You could hear the wood splintering.Ā 
That should've worried you, you should've cared about your furniture being destroyed. But you didn't. You couldn't, not with Miguel O'Hara melting underneath you. He could destroy a thousand bed frames. So long as you could touch him, could hear him moaning, could watch him as he barely held his composure. This would always be worth it.Ā 
You took him further into your mouth, humming around his length at the pleasant,Ā  full feeling. You were slow, holding him there, savoring the taste of him and the weight of him on your tongue.
"M-move-" he croaked.
You turned your gaze towards his face, raising an eyebrow. He was straining. Muscles bulging, chest heaving, fangs displayed in clenched teeth. You could see the prominent cracks in the wood.
"Move your shocking head, amor."
His hands came down to tangle with your hair, grabbing handfuls so he could move your head for you. You happily let him, and he bobbed you up and down on his shaft as you opened your throat to him.Ā 
"Oh, fuck, yesā€¦ that's it. Good girl. You're- you're taking me so fucking well."Ā 
Your eyes started rolling into the back of your head fondly. Good girl. He'd never called you that before. You'd be good for him. You'd be so good.Ā 
The sounds coming from you were the very definition of lewd, as were the strands of thick saliva that connected you to him. You closed your eyes, continuing to breathe through your nose, when you felt something prick your scalp. His claws. In and out, in and out. He was struggling to keep control of them.
"Ay, coƱo, I can't fucking do this." His voice barely a whisper. "You're gonna," he paused, swallowing. "You're gonna make me lose control, you know that?" Despite his words, he kept going, kept moving your head, even started to thrust his hips up to fuck your throat more thoroughly. His moans turned into what could only be described as growls, and the sound of them hit you like an electric shock, making you want him even more. If that were even possible.Ā 
His claws kept scraping you, threatening to fully unsheath. But Miguel never let them. He finally let your head go, bringing his hands up to his face and rubbing it in exhaustion. You stayed on his cock for a moment longer, carefully lifting your head away and disconnecting from him with a wet pop.
He groaned to himself through his hands.Ā 
"Miguelā€¦? You alright?"
"No." He finally said, "no, I'm fucking not."
You cocked your head in surprise at the response, opening your mouth to question him further until you were cut off by him quickly grabbing you and positioning you underneath him. He was pinning your legs again, but you were faced down this time, your cheeks pressed against the soft sheets as he pushed you into the mattress. He finally let his claws out, and with one swift movement, tore your shorts and panties into ribbons. In that moment, you were glad he couldn't see your face. You were grinning like an idiot. Finally. You're finally seeing the side of him that you always knew was there. That you desperately wanted him to let out. Your previous encounters had been tame compared to this. He'd been holding back.Ā 
"Because now," he grabbed your waist with both of his large hands, holding firm. "Now I know that you like being treated like a little fucktoy. I know that you'll be good for me and that you'll listen. What a rarity." He started to line up the tip of his cock with your entrance. "And if I thought you took up too much space in my head already, well-" he chuckled, pushing his tip into your pussy. "I'll never have peace of mind again."
He thrusted into you, and you were immediately seeing stars. With each pump, he took himself nearly all the way out of your warmth before plunging all the way back in. You could feel every delicious, hot inch of him. So deep and so filling. He fucked you into the mattress so thoroughly and so hard that you were convinced a crater was forming underneath the both of you. You felt the sharp points of his claws pricking your skin but not quite puncturing you. Your head swam as you grew dizzy.Ā 
He released your waist, left hand steadying himself on the low headboard, which was bound to break again. His right arm snuck up underneath your right arm, reaching around your collarbone to grab at your left shoulder, pulling you up so you were close into him. His chest was flush with your back. You reached up to hold onto that arm for dear life, as he brought his mouth down to your ear.Ā 
"Wanna bite you so bad, amor," he growled. "You smell so shocking good. Drivin' me up a fucking wall."
"Do it," you said, your voice strained.
"Wh-what?" His pace wavered. "You can't mean that."
"I- fuck- I do. Bite me, Miguel. Please."
"Are you," he exhaled a shaky breath. "Are you sure? It's a paralytic venom. I've- I've used it on Spiders before and we can withstand it a bit, but, shitā€¦ I need you to know what you're getting into."Ā 
"Do it," you said again.Ā 
His entire body shook against you. "Unbelievableā€¦." His voice sounded reverent. "Hold on tight."
You listened, gripping his arm harder, shutting your eyes. His mouth came down to meet the crook of your neck. He inhaled, letting your scent wash over him, before carefully sinking his fangs into your skin. The pain was sharp and fast, and was quickly replaced with a wave of warmth and laxity. Your muscles loosened, allowing him to easily pull you in even closer. He moaned against you, his thrusts quickening, his cock feeling like it was hitting your cervix. With every smack of his skin against yours, he buried himself to the hilt. That incredible, intense feeling was building within you again, deep inside your core.
"Fuck," he hissed into your skin, releasing his jaws and lapping at the light trickle of crimson blood. "Good girl, good girl, I've got you."
He held you and didn't let go, caging you against his huge form, fucking you until that feeling turned into a huge sunburst that sent spots across your vision. Your body trembled involuntarily as you clenched around his cock.Ā 
"Yes," he encouraged, "yes, come for me. Give it all to me. I've got you, bebƩ."
You smiled against the venom, and he was right, it wasn't too potent in your system. It was just enough to comfortably loosen your muscles. You came down from your high as he kept pumping into you, his pace merciless. His body started to shake again, his right hand's grip on your left shoulder tightening.Ā 
ā€œToo much for me to handle,ā€ he rasped. ā€œIā€™m gonna comeā€¦ gonna come inside you.ā€
ā€œYes,ā€ you croaked, finding your voice and gaining back enough control of your muscles to push yourself up into him.Ā 
His tempo stuttered as he slammed his hips into you, curling against you as he came. His cock twitched inside of you, spilling hot seed in thick spurts. He held you there for a long while, savoring the feeling of being inside you, like he knew he'd miss the warmth once it was gone. Despite what he wanted, he let go of you and flipped onto his back beside you, placing a hand over his heart as his chest heaved. He closed his eyes, trying to compose himself. Silently reaching for you, he pulled you in so you could rest against his chest, your head rising and falling with each heavy breath he took. He stroked your hair as you stared up at him, his face glowing in the yellow shine of candlelight.Ā 
"Thatā€¦" he started to say, then stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Iā€¦. I needed that."Ā 
You smiled, nuzzling into him. "Thank you."Ā 
"You're thanking me?" He asked, laughing at how ridiculous it sounded.Ā 
"Yeah," you said. "I feel like I finally saw Miguel tonight. Not Spider-Man. But Miguel. And I really like him."Ā 
He rolled his eyes but still smiled, petting your head until you fell asleep on him.
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solacebean Ā· 3 months ago
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Creechurs
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mellosdrawings Ā· 29 days ago
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OOOOOO CAN I ASK HOW WOULD THE N2 SQUAD REACT TO EACH OF THEM DYING?
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What have you unleashed?
(WARNING: Angst, allusions to death, all that fun stuff. Nothing graphic tho, don't worry)
Jamil
He shouldnā€™t be surprised.
Wellā€¦ He isn't surprised. Jamil Viper doesn't get nice things. Not for more than a few months, anyway.
Every once in a while, life takes pity on him and throws some nice, agreeable news his way. Just enough so that he lets his guard down. Just enough so that he allows himself to think maybe things will get better. Just enough so that he can pretend he isn't chained to a fate he will never escape.
A letter to NRC, a plan that goes a little too well, a couple of upperclassmen who seem to genuinely love him for who he is and not who he pretends to be.
So of course it doesn't last. Life gives and life takes.
Kalim follows, Octavinelle gets involved, Leona and Vil-
Wellā€¦
He isn't surprised.
Jamil Viper doesn't get nice things.
Vil
They look at him like they expect something from him. Horror, anger, ugly tears maybe. Just a reaction. Anything. Anything at all.
Vil doesn't give them that. Doesn't give them an opportunity to pity him. Doesn't give them food for gossip. Doesn't give them any material to make this topic last for any longer than it has to.
He knows how it works. Someone snaps a pic of him at his lowest, someone records his voice breaking during an interview, someone catches his lips tremble for but a second, and everybody will start talking about it again. And again. And again. For as long as there is a reaction from him. For as long as the topic attracts views.
Suffering brings more views than success.
So Vil doesn't react. Doesn't say a thing. Doesn't acknowledge the topic.
Better to be a cold asshole for a few weeks than to hear about it for years.
And in the darkness of his own room, where there is no camera, no eyes, and no ears to witness his grief-
Vil cries himself to sleep.
Leona
Itā€™s just sand.
Only sand.
For miles and miles, further than the eye can see, nothing but sand.
Ruggie had the clever foresight to send all of Savanaclaw packing when Leona got the news. They would be sand too otherwise.
Who cares.
Who fucking cares.
He could turn the whole world to sand and it wouldn't be enough.
He might as well turn his own heart into sand.
It would hurt less.
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princessfroslass Ā· 8 months ago
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I will never move on from this frame- the bar became their place. Husk is the one to run it but Angel pretty much lives there, even when they are not interacting he is seen sitting on it (I mean besides the obvious whole substance abuse lmao). It's their special space šŸ„ŗšŸ„ŗ
........
ALSO DID YOU SEE THE WAY THAT EVEN WHEN USING BOTH HANDS ANGEL'S STILL LOOK TINY ON HUSK'S MASSIVE PAWS?! GOOD FOR HIM-
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imsilay Ā· 8 months ago
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you wanted to the trend where people taped their phones onto the ceiling of their beds and recorded themselves sleeping. it was cute, most of them were couples but you had your cat so you thought itā€™d be cute.
but nothing could prepare you for what youā€™d see in the video next day.
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LETS WRITE THIS STORY TOGETHER I WANNA SEE EVERYONES THOUGHTS!!!!
you can add anyone (Kƶnig, Simon, Price etc.), reblog and write the rest or give me some ideas to help me write it myself :)
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pines4thetwin Ā· 12 days ago
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As promised, here's that fusion post for the three people that asked for it (drops it and runs).
Ford thinks of himself and Stan as one, an extension of each other, and lowkey hates that its not true nor possible.
And Mabel really shouldn't have shown him Steven Universe because now he's obsessing over the concept of fusions and his desire to be one with stan.
Now lets say this is Pre-Weird and everything is still tense between them and they aren't exactly talking but despite that ford still wants to be close and he knows stan does too.
He can see it in the broken resigned looks Stan keeps throwing his way. And listen, Ford isn't the best at communication but he can fix this. He may still be angry and self righteous and an asshole but he can fix them.
So now he spends an even more absurd amount of time in the lab trying to making it his reality and entirely disregards his base needs to the point even dipper is concerned.
He has a journal dedicated to this idea where he keeps all his notes and theories on how to make it possible. Would he have to alter their DNA for it to work or could it be possible for them as they are?
While doing the tests and research for his fixation he remembers a dimension he briefly travelled to back when he was younger and fresh through the portal. One where this concept, his desire, his fantasy, his wish was real. A dimension where it was was their culture, their way of life. And while he did think it was interesting then, he was young and angry and raw with unrestrained hurt. Too emotional to stop and study the practice the way he should have.
He beats himself up over it now. If only he had been thinking more logically him and stan could be one already. They wouldn't have to be so... apart.
He doesn't have time to dwell on his shortcomings though. He has to figure this out. He doesn't know exactly why but he feels like he's running out of time. Like he has to do this now or he'll never have the chance again.
Eventually he has his prototype and it functions well... enough. He just has one more trial to run. Except Stan comes down to check on him. 'Worried ford isn't taking care of himself properly.' or something like that.
And honestly, Stan in his space is the last thing he expects because they have an unspoken agreement. Stan roams above and Ford stays down here. And when they cross paths they both look the other way.
But stan is here and yes Ford is annoyed at first but this also means he doesn't have to go seek stan out.
"I told you to stay- wait actually this is perfect. We'll do it now," Ford fiddles with his device, turning it on and he really isn't thinking right anymore. He know the device works and that's all that matters.
"Do what now? Stanford, what is that," And Stan is kinda terrified because Ford looks... well he looks kinda like how he did decades ago when he had sent that postcard and Stan had come running because well, its Ford.
Ford looks insane, primal and unhinged, like he hasn't seen the light of day in weeks. And Dipper had told Stan, had been worried but Stan brushed it off because Ford locking himself in the lab and avoiding everybody, avoiding him wasn't a new development.
But now Stanā€™s worried because that wild-eyed look is directed at him again and the cowardly little animal in him is screaming at him to run.
Itā€™s like Ford knows what he's thinking because before Stan has a chance to decide if he's going to shut down or entertain that scared little animal, Ford is grasping at him and pulling him deeper into the dingy little basement.
Stan trips and he fully expects his back to hit the floor but fords got and arm wrapped low on his back that keeps him from falling fully. And stan's hand is also tangled in fords sweater so even if Ford had let him fall, well they would have gone down together.
But then he catches sight of that thing again and it looks vaguely like a gun and why did he have to get saddled with the insane twin? He doesn't even have time to flinch because a bright light floods his vision and he blanks.
For a second, Stan's mind goes black and there's a strange humming in his ears. But then he hears a laugh he hasn't heard in forever. Soft and joyous and for a moment stan smiles. It's Ford's laugh.
Because he and Stan become one. And everything is warm and bright and as it should be. For a moment everything is right. It feels like coming home.
His-Their eyes open and Ford's confused? No, Stans confused.
"Sixer? Lee?" Their voice says, soft and bewildered. They look around, searching for each other. Stan? Ford? Where did they go? They look down and their vision swims. Four hands, five fingers? Six? It all blurs together.
Is this me, they think as one. Finally as one. Four hands run up the sides of their one body then stretch out for their wide eyes to view. Ford can feel his giddiness rising unbidden. And a whisper from Stan, rising to meet Ford. Uncertain but matching nonetheless.
Finally
Finally together... Finally fixed... Finally right.
They spin slowly, as if that will give them a better view of what they are now, and they catch their reflection in some dim glass. Ford wants to smile but their face drops, eyes horrified.
"What did you do," Stan says, voice a cutting accusation. Nausea erupts in their stomach. And that isn't right. Why isn't it right?
Something is wrong. Everything is so very wrong. Ford's head hurts. Or is it Stans. He doesn't know. They can't tell.
"I fixed it. I fixed us," Ford says and it isn't right either. Why is it still so wrong? Stan is angry. But why is he angry? Why aren't they happy? They're together. After all this time they're finally together again.
Ford can feel Stan pulling away. It's like their mind is splitting in two. Hot searing pain shoots through their head, four eyes closing when the world starts to spin.
Ford grasps ahold of stan and refuses to let go. He can't let Stan ruin this, ruin them. He will not let Stan destroy everything he's worked towards again. They've been apart for so long- too long but not anymore. Besides, this is for them. Stan will just have to understand. They are one now. Broken and wrong but one nonetheless.
"Let me go," They yell, tugging apart furiously. Their shape shifts and distorts but doesn't split. Ford won't let them. They snap back together painfully, stumbling on two bulky legs, one that branches into two feet. Wrong.
"No! This is what we wanted right," their voice bellows, loud and angry and wrong. So very wrong. "For us to be together. Always together."
They grip at their hair as if trying to pull themselves back apart. Stan.
"Not like this. I never asked for this." they shout back, voice sharp and hurt and why aren't they happy now. They should be happy. This is right. This is how they are meant to be.
Even as the anger and hurt courses through their entire being, Ford knows he wouldn't want to be any other way. Stan's angry and scared but at least they're one. They're shattered and hurting but even then some small part burns in them, it's a tiny little ember but it's both of them and it says yes.
Another set of hands reach for the ones in their hair, pulling them out and restraining them. Betrayal spikes, scorching and increasing rapidly even after years of dormancy. Ford.
"Stop being so ungrateful! You're always so-." angry tears spill from their eyes. Decades of hurt and anger and resentment spill forth to mix into a sense numbing cocktail but most of all they feel alone. So very alone. Them.
They grapple and struggle and Ford's device glints from the corner of their eyes. Ford can feel Stan's intent before their body even moves. Being one now, it's like their minds have melded which means Stan knows the device's purpose. And he intends to separate them.
"NO!" Ford bellows, voice priggish and angry, hurt tinting the singular word so strongly that their body stalls. Why would stan- Why doesn't he want them to be together?
"Grunkle Stan?" Their head whips to the left, eyes locking with a confused and tired Mabelā€™s. Their focus splits, body jerking in an awkward aborted movement as Stan tries to move forward and Ford holds him back.
ā€œPumpkin grab that- Mabel don't-ā€ And why can they never agree on anything. When did everything go so wrong?Ā 
Flashes of being in this very lab, so long ago- but no, it was before that even.
Mabel stares at them, scared and confused and stan has never wanted her to look at him like that ever. But Ford doesn't register it because for a moment, one split second, Stan stops fighting him.Ā 
They don't hesitate to rush forward, very much intent on destroying their creation before it has a chance to be used against them. To hurt them.
Two small hands wrap around it before they can get ahold of it. Mabel clutches it to her chest, watching them with something too close to fear. They freeze in place, hands raising in surrender.
"Sweetie," Falls from their lips, pleading. For what though, they aren't quite sure. Because their mind, it should be one yet it isn't. It's at odds, fragmented by a fear and necessity that clash so strongly it could tear universes apart.
ā€œPress the green- Don't you dare-ā€ They speak at once, words and thoughts overlapping. Large hands cover their mouth, two others gripping uselessly at wrist that refuse to budge, because regardless of whatever insanity that has plagued Fords mind to make them act this way, Stan will not let their voice- their words even hint at a threat towards Mabel.
Mabel's head bobs, looking from them down to the thing in her hands, unsure of what to do. Stan nods, eyes pleading.
Ford lashes out, angry and hurt and thrashing like a wild dog. 'Stanley please no. Why don't you want us to be-' Stan is retreating, silent and distant. 'Lee. LEE!'
Everything goes dark.
Ford rises slowly, head spinning and ears ringing. He has the worst headache he has ever experienced. He stares at his hands, splayed on the floor. Two hands, six fingers. Wrong.
His head whips up and his gaze finds Stan's crumpled form across from him on the floor. Stan's glaring at him, thick angry tears spilling down red cheeks.
No. No!
His head turns slowly and his eyes fall on Mabel. Mabel who is standing with his prototype in shaky hands looking between a separated Ford and Stan. He... failed. And now they're...
Apart.
Broken.
Wrong.
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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat Ā· 22 days ago
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cookingā€¦ā€¦ā€¦..
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ronzombie Ā· 4 months ago
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imagine an AU where you're your F/O's OC.
they fall even deeper in love with you after every lore piece they write. after every trauma and flaw they inflict on you, they still love you and would do anything to have you there with them in person.
who knows? maybe one day their wish will come true...
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ghost-bxrd Ā· 11 months ago
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Prompt:
Bruce is Jasonā€™s biological father.
He finds out about it during the autopsy after Ethiopia.
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c-a-s-s-i-s Ā· 1 month ago
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cupophrogs Ā· 9 months ago
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Little scribble comparing mine and @drewmwalkerā€™s Dogdays that came to me in an espresso-fueled warm-up session!
(I adore your art btw, itā€™s so cool)
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