#one day i might write this as a fic

[iandarling]

Domestic gallavich headcanons

Mickey makes their eggs in the morning while Ian brews the coffee and sets the “table”. They eat at the breakfast bar in the kitchen. It’s quiet and comfortable. Ian squeezes Mickeys thigh as he sits down next to him, smiling into his coffee cup. He swallows his meds before he digs into the scrambled eggs and sausage Mickey prepared. They exist in their own silence and comfort for a few moments before their day fully starts.

For their first valentine’s day together Ian buys Mickey a card which he says he hates, but Ian has seen him staring at it fondly with tears in his eyes. Ian finds it more romantic that Mickey takes advantage of the sale after valentine’s day to buy him a fuckton of roses and chocolates that were on sale.

They get a costco membership. Or rather, Ian gets a costco membership, but Mickey doesn’t mind it once he learns about the free samples. They buy a bunch of rotisserie chicken for the whole family, stock up on juice boxes for Franny and Freddie, buy water bottles and gatorade in bulk. They also have cheap tequila which Mickey loves so it’s a win win.

After work they like to sit on their balcony with a cold beer and dinner. Ian usually cooks while Mickey watches and talks. Ian loves listening to Mickey talk about anything and everything.

There is a new Club who wants them to deliver edibles twice a week. Mickey negotiations a good deal so Lip and Iggy can work part-time for them while still earning a good deal

One day while out grocery shopping shopping Mickey spots those flavoured straws that he used to see in all the adverts growing up. Plastic straws filled with chocolate, strawberry, or banana flavoured powder that would change the normal milk to whatever flavour you wanted. He never got those as a kid — Terry saying it was a waste of money, and he was too young at the time to steal them himself. As a teen he forgot about them, too preoccupied with everything else, but now as a 26 year old he could afford them. Mickey slips two packs of them into the cart before Ian sees them — he will lie and say there for Franny if he asks, but really he’s just always wanted to try them. That night Ian sees him staring at the stupid pack of multicoloured and flavoured straws. Ian doesn’t laugh at him, and they try each flavour together. The strawberry one is the best.

[shroompette]

Maine Coon Cat!König living alone in his den, generally unbothered until Bunny!Reader shows up during a storm, seeking shelter under the overhang of his home. Wet, cold and with an injured leg, König takes pity on her and brings her inside.

MCCat!König who doesn't really have many veggies lying around, but he does have some fruit. He watches Bunny!Reader's cheeks grow chubby as she stuffs them with bananas and canned nectarines. Poor thing, she must have been starved. He gives her a can of strawberries as well, which she neatly tucks away in her raincoat. He does not question her about it.

MCCat!König who, after he feeds Bunny!Reader, carefully rolls up the fabric of her pants to inspect and disinfect the nasty cut on her calf, taking the opportunity to give a closer look to her as a whole. He finds himself enchanted with the long, fluffy ears that droop around the sides of her head. Even wet, they still look enticing, cotton-soft and he wants to brush them, rub his cheeks against them, kiss them, pull them, bite them-

MCCat!König who manages to make Bunny!Reader a little nest to sleep in out of spare pillows and blankets, the crackle of the flames dancing in the fireplace lulling her to sleep. He watches her for a while and nearly purrs with delight when she rolls over in her sleep and reveals the round little scut that he'd like to use as a stress ball.

MCCat!König whose big ears twitch as he hears the sound of his front door opening in the morning, knowing Bunny!Reader must have slipped out into the woods again and it makes his heart pang just a little before he resumes his everyday life.

MCCat!König who is absolutely flabbergasted when a week passes and there's a knock on his door behind which stands Bunny!Reader and her three little buns. Without a word, she ushers them inside before disappearing into the woods. He isn't sure what to do. He has half a mind to run after her, but he fears leaving the buns alone would give them an opportunity to cause mischief and he'd rather not come back and find his den on fire. He stays, letting them sit in his big lap and play with his tail that sometimes tickles them on their twitchy little noses, so similar to their mother's. They're very messy eaters too - they seem to love strawberries, little fingers and cheeks sticky with their juice.

MCCat!König who is equally relieved and enraged when Bunny!Reader finally shows up hours later with a satchel of herbs and veggies for her babies who are currently bundled up in the nest he reassembled. He is about to tell her off, inform her that he isn't a babysitter when she stands on her tiptoes and nuzzles his nose ever so gently, difusing his anger completely. He barely blinks before she's off to check on her buns, satisfied with the state she finds them in - alive, with full bellies and sleeping.

MCCat!König who slowly gets used to Bunny!Reader dropping off her kids at his doorstep and watching them for a day or two before she comes back and expresses her gratitude via soft gesture such as nuzzle or a cheek kiss.

MCCat!König who sometimes makes Bunny!Reader stay in the den with the buns to go on a veggie/herb hunt himself, just so she can spend some quality time with them. He can not pinpoint the exact moment he became so whipped for her.

MCCat!König who starts leaving the nest out permanently because he knows Bunny!Reader won't stop coming around and neither will her buns anytime soon (he'd miss them greatly if they did).

MCCat!König who lets Bunny!Reader sleep in the spare cot (that he built just for her) in his room until she decides one night that sleeping beside him would be more comfortable. He does not try to object this in the slightest, not when he can finally feel her fluffy ears against his face.

MCCat!König who regularly grooms the buns' hair and furry ears and Bunny!Reader's as well with his coarse tongue, thinking he's displaying dominance over her. He has no idea she thinks she is the one in charge by letting him groom her.

MCCat!König who's suddenly not alone anymore. The quiet days of his den are over as it's now filled with laughter and chattering of the three little buns who have began to call him "Papa". He never knew two simple syllables could bring him so much joy...and then there's Bunny!Reader, with her genius manipulative tactics that involve licks, kisses and adorable tiny stomps of her feet when she wants something done her way. He would not trade her for anything in the world.

MCCat!König who slowly starts thinking his den is too big for just the five of them...and that perhaps he and Bunny!Reader should start working on some kitten siblings for the buns.

masterlist • pt2

[remieil]

𝑜𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓈𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓊𝓈

[pendragonsclotpole]

this is probably me just hitting peak insanity after scrolling on this website for too long but like

whoever had the brilliant idea of making the well-known old merlin character into a young man (younger than arthur, mind you, and upending the stereotypical mentorship role characteristic of the legend!) and basing the entire story on the bond (romantic! i will die on this hill) between merlin and arthur and THEN MAKING IT WORK was a genius

like imagine if 500 years from now when an ip like harry potter is public domain and ubiquitously known as a tale of magic, someone just straight up decides to rewrite the story by de-aging dumbledore and making him the same age as Harry and then writing an entire story based on their bond.

we’d all freaking look at them like they were crazy

[otome-dissection]

Idk man I just think that mizu/ena5 and its progression was really beautiful actually. I just think that the release of the ena5 song was also really beautiful and kind of the nail in the coffin for me and I haven't been able to get the event(s) out of my head all week and that I kind of want to talk about it, actually.

It's about being hurt so deeply and continuously that any kindness that could be offered to you manages to feel like a sin, that it makes you crumble and shatter but for all the wrong reasons, not because of the newfound safety, not out of relief, but something worse and more deeply ingrained in you than kindness ever was. It's about carefully measuring the distance at which you keep others away from yourself, to ensure that it never happens again ("To save yourself the trouble", if that makes it easier).

It's about realizing that the people you've been spending all this time with are drifting closer, that they just might bump up against the unsightly parts of yourself that you've tried to keep locked away, it's about turning around and sprinting at full speed and slamming the door shut and holding onto the handle behind you to stop it from turning, because you're as frightened of the possibility of another wound being inflicted on you as you are of the possibility that kinder, gentler hands will reach out and smooth over the exposed scar. It's about hating eyes that judge and silently condemn you as much as you hate eyes that simply see you and take all of you in without scrutiny, because no matter what they're looking and they're looking at you and they know that your hand's on that door handle and they know that you're hiding something because, as much as you try to keep it shut, they've seen through the crack that you foolishly left open.

(The prominence of eyes in Bake no Hana, specifically eyes looking and searching, and finally landing on you, the viewer, Mizuki, is so fucking. Visceral in my opinion. Every character in the MV stares at the viewer in a deadpan, almost judging way. Even though Mizuki knows deep down that niigo won't really hate them, won't judge them, she just can't stand their kindness either; any gaze directed at her is a loss, another prick in their skin. It screams "don't look at me" while making sure that you know, with horrific certainty, that they're looking for you, that you're being watched. You can't go outside, can't leave your room, because they're searching for you, and while that should be reassuring, to you it's anything but).

It's about not wanting to be dissected, whether it's with hands that want to pull your organs apart or stitch them back together because no matter what they're there, and they're getting frighteningly close to your heart. It's about blinding yourself and covering your eyes to it all because seeing means exposure and exposure means they're taking something from you and you can't do anything about it, much less take it all back, much less have a say in the matter. Everyone's just taking and taking and taking and you wish you could just be alone. You wish everyone would just disappear and you could live in a world all to yourself, for only yourself (but is that really what you want?).

It's about the way that, near the beginning of the Yoka ni Mitoreta MV, Mizuki and her loneliness is represented as a dark, splotchy stain in the shadows. No colors, no patterns, no way to clean it or wash it all away, just raw ugliness marring a blank canvas. It's about the way that Ena reaches out to it anyway, the way she startles when the glass shatters just when she finally starts reaching forward, the way that the rest of the MV/song represents her searching for and reaching only further out to Mizuki, even if the broken shards of glass will only cut her fingers, potentially leaving scars.

It's about how, in every way, subtly, directly, consciously, and subconsciously, Ena shows that she fucking cares.

It's about the way that Ena lets Mizuki have autonomy, despite the situation being so horribly out of their control. And it's such a delicate thing: If she really wants to, Mizuki can take the opportunity to just run away, keep running forever, repeat the cycle over and over, and maybe she'll just destroy herself with it again, but it can't be denied that it's something important to them, something she can't quite live without just yet, their means of survival. Mizuki's autonomy is their identity, it's her tailoring her own clothes and choosing her own ribbons and styling her own hair the way she does. Ena letting them have that is as much about trust as it is about understanding that Mizuki of all people should have this right, when control was something stripped from her throughout so much of her life. She couldn't control how she was born, how people look at her or why, can't control what they think of her; lacking control has only left Mizuki vulnerable to the cruelties of others, has only caused them to suffer, which is why it's so important that it's given to them now.

She had the control to make the choice to see niigo's welcoming love and run away instead of staying, and she has the control to make the choice now whether she wants to keep things the way they are or take a step forward to be at their side again. She has every right to have it, and I think the fact that Ena realizes and respects that, even if it's subconsciously, is really beautiful (there is an entire fucking Verse about this in the new song and just. God Look at this. It's so caring, unconditional, and for fucking What. I think there is something to be said about how much Ena is willing to put aside for Mizuki, and maybe deep down it isn't healthy, but for now I'm just kind of in awe)

It's about how insanely patient Ena has been this whole time. Mizuki says that she basically lied to Ena's face about telling her their secret, even after Ena said with such conviction that she would wait for Mizuki as long as it takes, and Ena is just kept waiting and waiting and worrying like this seemingly indefinitely. It's about how Mizuki danced around it, avoided it, kept the distance, straight up ran when she was finally pushed, but Ena still chased anyway when she saw that she couldn't wait anymore, kept chasing just enough to intervene and get a straight answer out of Mizuki when she really needed to, but still leaving her enough space to leave if that was truly what she wanted. It's about how relieved Ena is the moment that Mizuki finally says outright how much they want to be with her and niigo, how much she wants to try, how much more light Ena's voice sounds when she grabs her hand, relieved, the way that the relief she feels can be felt through the music, throughout the entirety of Yoka ni Mitoreta, the way that warm colors always follow her when she chases after Mizuki, just to hold onto her and stop her from running away completely.

It's about how that careful combination of Ena's directness, Ena's persistence, Ena's warmth, her patience, her bluntness about her feelings, the way she chases and holds on but not too tight and her regard for how unsafe and exposed Mizuki feels actually works and breaks it all down. It's about how she really did reach through to Mizuki, despite the thorns and broken glass shards and nearly-unfulfilled promises, the way that Mizuki did finally let her turn the door handle and step through to see what she'd been hiding all this time, the way that Mizuki's hand, limp, when Ena first grabs onto it, shifts to hold hers back as they cry in the face of Ena's gentleness.

Despite how harsh Mizu/Ena5, and even Ena herself as a character can be (or at least was in the very beginning of pjsk), everything is somehow gentle and warm in the end, blindingly so. And you know what, I think that's beautiful. And what's even more beautiful than that is how Mizuki allows themself to crumble and shatter under that kindness, that warm light, but this time, finally, out of relief.

On a final note, I just want to say that I also appreciate how all that didn't have to solve everything. The scars haven't disappeared, haven't gone away, and Mizuki knows that their desire to run hasn't gone away forever, and maybe it never truly will. But for now they've calmed it, at least a little. She's learning to allow herself to be seen, learning that when someone's fingertips brush over their scars the way Ena's did that it's only out of care, and that maybe taking in that care and allowing herself to feel kindness and safety is okay. They're safe, for now, somehow. They're learning. They're trying. And I think that's cool :)

[myokk]

My drawing gremlin days are coming back so here is some of the art I’ve done this last week and a half♥️♥️♥️ LOT of pencil, ballpoint pen, and some digital art WIPs when it gets dark/im on the train🫶

[itsthatlake]

Ha! Look at you, so young and happy... where did they years go?

[shalomniscient]

every day, once a year, yelan takes a day off.

this is written directly into her contract with the tianquan. there are no exceptions, no special arrangements. on this singular day, yelan does not belong to the qixing; on this singular day, her leash and collar are abandoned, and she has free reign to do as she pleases.

what does she do? well, prepare for your anniversary, of course.

she hops out of bed, cleans up, tugs her jacket on and then slips out the door with the clink of her jade bracelet. it’s a clear day, and yelan tilts her head to the sky briefly, letting the golden sunrays warm her face almost like an embrace. you were never really a morning person, but the sun on your skin always suited you. she’d have to drag you out of bed to see it, but it was always well worth your grumbling in the end when you finally cave and offer her a smile which she would then steal with a kiss.

“ugh, yelan—“ you giggled, your hands on her chest gently pushing her back. your bracelet was cool against her skin, and the matching one on her own wrist hummed. she nosed along your jaw, pressing more and more kisses until she reached your neck. playfulness turned into something a little more heated, and her blood sang at the sigh she pulled from your lips. emerald eyes flicked up to you, teasing, challenging, and you managed a wry huff before tangling your fingers in her hair and tugging her back to properly kiss her again. it stung, beautifully, but yelan grinned all the way."

she shakes herself out of the memory, and steps into the busy street. liyue’s morning scene has always been crowded, and she blends into the throng with practiced ease. she follows the flow of the crowd down the wharf until she reaches the shop she’s looking for—a florist, tucked snugly between two other stores on the higher levels of the shopping district.

the owner, a midde-aged woman, looks up from tending to her orchids to smile at her. her eyes crease with familiarity at the sight of yelan as the spy steps into her store, fingers brushing the petals of a few flowers. the woman rounds the counter, and rummages in the storage for a few moments.

“the usual, i take it?” she asks, and yelan nods, leaning against the counter and tapping her fingers over the grainy wood. the shop hasn’t changed much, if at all, since she last came here with you.

you leaned down by a bouquet of white chrysanthemums, lips curving upward into a smile as you breathed in the soft, floral scent. yelan looked curiously over your shoulder, a hand casually resting on your hip. she asked if it was your favorite flower—you nodded, your other hand rising to just as casually cup her face from over your shoulder. “they’re quite pretty, aren’t they?” you hummed, and yelan took a moment to ponder the question. in the end, she said they were nowhere near as pretty as you, and took the light smack you delivered to her shoulder with an easy laugh.

the florist clears her throat, coaxing her out of the memory. yelan recieves the bouquet—white chrysanthemums—with a smile, settling it in the crook of her arm. the woman’s expression is measured, but there’s a slight waver to her tone when she speaks. if yelan really had to name it, it sounds close to… pity.

“yelan—“ she begins, but she only flashes the woman a signature grin, before slipping out the door as quickly as she came. she has other things to get, after all, and the clock is always ticking.

(or maybe her clock stopped ticking a long time ago and all this is just extra. maybe it cracked when the rocks fell and the earth buried—)

she dissolves back into the crowd as she heads to her next destination: wanmin restaurant. she can smell the chili in the air as she makes her way down the street again, a sharpness only wanmin seems to be able to make. when she gets there, xiangling is boisterously calling out orders while her father toils away in the kitchen, with guoba tirelessly maintaining the roaring fire for his wok. when she sees her, xiangling’s grin only widens, and she waves her over enthusiastically.

“miss yelan! welcome, welcome,” the young chef says cheerily. “here for another batch of dried chillies?”

yelan chuckles, shaking her head. “no, not this time. i’m here for a few rice buns. with a sweet filling, preferably.”

“ooh,” xiangling coos, nodding. “are you planning to go on an expedition? rice buns are both portable and satiating.”

“you could say that,” yelan says vaguely. the little chef is right, in a way, since she’ll have to hike a little to get to your spot—but really, it’s because rice buns have always been a comfort food of sorts for you.

“how can you not like them?” you asked defensively as you trudged along with her behind the group. there was a slight smear of filling on the corner of your lip, and your expression scrunched up a little more as she wiped it off. her jade bracelet was cool against your heated cheeks. yelan only shook her head, teasingly remarking that spice was a much greater wake-up call than sweets. you huffed at that, taking another bite of your rice bun. “not all of us are masochists, lan’er,” you grumbled, and yelan laughed softly. her nimble fingers encircled your wrist, tugging you closer so she could take a quick bite of your bun. it was sweet, sweeter than she’d like, but maybe that was because you were there. and somehow, that made it good.

yelan pulls herself out of yet another memory when xiangling deposits the bag of warm rice buns into her hands. they’re freshly steamed, and the scent of warm buns fill her senses. she thanks the chef, and disappears much the same way she came before the young lady can get even so much as a word in. in the back of her mind, she can almost hear you chastise her for it.

(she always hears you in the back of her mind. if not, where else—)

there’s only one thing left on her list, and it’s incense. it’s late in the morning now, so the crowds have thinned out—and without her cover, yelan takes to back alleys and rooftops instead. she sighs, relieved almost, as she slips into the shimmering, reflective cover of hydro, darting like a minnow between buildings like rocks, barely a blur in the eyes of anyone nearby. the secrecy isn’t strictly necessary for what she’s doing now, but she’s been so used to being unseen that being in the open feels… unsafe.

it doesn’t take her that long to reach wangsheng funeral parlor. the young lady running the parlor isn’t in today—instead, it’s her ‘assistant’, the elegant man shrouded in such thick mystery that neither her nor ningguang has been able to pierce. he greets her with a solemn expression, no doubt because director hu has told him the reason for her visit. “incense?” he asks again anyway to confirm, his voice low and soft. yelan nods absently, her nose stinging slightly from the intense scent permeating the parlor.

she watches as the man disappears into the back of the parlor for a moment, before he reappears with a delicately wrapped packet of incense sticks. she slides a pouch of mora his way, which he takes wordlessly. she tucks the packet into her little pocket dimension, then turns on her heel to leave. just as she exits the door, he calls out to her.

“safe travels.”

she doesn’t deign him with a response.

her feet take her out and away from the city, down the familiar path to the bleeding wound in the earth—the chasm. the land goes from valleys to large, curling momuments of rock, carved by the force of a falling star. she feels that familiar tug in her chest, the voice that calls to her, that tells her to forsake the surface as her ancestor once did. she listened to it, once. and—

“go,” you whispered, pushing her away. half of you was buried under rock, and she could only see one of your eyes; the other was forced shut by the blood that trickled down your face. yelan nearly screamed herself hoarse, but you grabbed her face and kissed her. it tasted like salt, and her heart lurched at the wrongness. your kisses had always been sweet. you slipped your bracelet onto her wrist, then pushed her again, and then the earth heaved and groaned, and it was the last she ever saw of you—

she turns her head and rips herself out of the memory and the temptation; she has other, more important places to be today. she has other days to chase down her demons. she skirts the side of the chasm, slowly ascending to the top. she passes by the memorial to the millelith, and leaves a rice bun and a few sticks of incense as an offering. they too, deserve to be remembered after all.

(she wonders if anyone else comes out here to remember them. she wonders who will come when she’s gone for—)

it takes her a while, but eventually, she reaches the highest point in the chasm. the sun has traveled across the sky by this point, the afternoon heat mellowing out into a slightly cooler evening warmth. the sky is alive with shades of gold when she finally stops, drawing to a halt right before a smooth stone, standing upright from the earth like a silent vigil. she kneels before it, producing three sticks on incense and inserting them into the censer before the stone and lighting them. she sets a rice bun on the plate by the stone, and saves one for herself. the bouquet of white chrysanthemums, she lays on top of the stone.

yelan takes a bite of her rice bun, letting the sweetness settle on her tongue, as the floral scent mixes with the incense, filling her lungs and settling on her shoulders. she tilts her head to the sun, and the warmth feels almost like an embrace. and when she closes her eyes, the wind in her hair feels almost like a caress. when she opens them again, she lets them rest on the stone—the headstone, and she offers it a smile.

sitting on the edge of the cliff, your legs swinging, you smiled at her, nearly blindingly bright like the golden hour. your pinkies were twined together, your shoulders flush with hers. there was a bouquet of white chrysanthemums on your lap, and just a few crumbs on the corner of your lips. your voice carried in the wind when you spoke.

“happy anniversary, yelan.”

“happy anniversary, sweetheart,” she whispers. the wind carries her voice as well, and she hopes you hear it, wherever you are now. one day, she’ll join you, but for now she takes another bite of her rice bun and breathes in the scent of incense and chrysanthemums.

[a-most-beloved-fool]

For the ask prompt game...

Spirk #17 to distract

"Report," Kirk ordered. The word buzzed low against Spock's ear, quiet and audibly tense.

"Less than two minutes until they reach our location, Captain," Spock replied promptly. "Commander Scott will need at least another eight before the transporter is operable again." His voice was equally hush, despite their perceived solitude. He had seen carelessness take far too many lives during his time in Starfleet; he would not allow it to take his captain as well - and, illogically, Spock could not quite dispense of the phantom sensation of eyes on the back of his neck.

"We'll need to bluff it," Kirk decided, looking grim.

His gaze was strangely intense against Spock, full of rioting emotion, and, almost, Spock wished to look away. He did not. Instead, he nodded, holding steady eye contact.

The odds, Spock knew, that Kirk's gambit - whatever it may be - would succeed were... poor. The guards had, after all, seen their faces. But Kirk would keep fighting right until the bitter end, and Spock, of course, would be right beside him.

Solemn, he vowed, "I shall follow your lead," though he knew Kirk would not have doubted it. Still, the unnecessary words were well worth the way the tension around Kirk's eyes melted away, the somber set of his mouth slipping instead into a golden-edged smile.

Almost wonderingly, a soft chuckle fell from those lips, incongruous in their surroundings and entirely treasured. "What would I do without you?" Kirk asked, reaching up to exert gentle pressure on Spock's bicep.

I pray you never need find out, Spock made to say, getting only so far as drawing in breath before the sound of distant footsteps drew them both from their quiet moment, snuffing the words before they could take shape. "Eighteen seconds," he said instead, after rapidly adjusting his calculations. Faster than anticipated.

Kirk nodded, some unreadable emotion hiding in the soft crease between his brows.

"Forgive me, Mr. Spock," Kirk said softly, and Spock did not have time to question what he meant before Kirk was pulling him down by his shirt, dragging their lips together with great urgency.

Quite suddenly, Spock found that his mind was entirely blank. Strange heat flickered through his whole form, and his universe narrowed to only Kirk, all soft and human-warm, who was pressed flush to his chest and kissing him.

One, then two seconds stuttered by in which Spock thought no thoughts at all, struck utterly motionless in the face of such unexpected attentions. He only felt, swept away by the sensation of pliant lips against his own and warm fingers stroking through his hair, gently mussing.

The very first thought to break to the surface was simply, Jim. A wave of emotion flooded in with it, astonishment and affection sweeping over him in such quantities that he felt nearly lightheaded.

The second was, We will be caught, and Spock jolted as something near to panic rose up inside his gullet, urging him to take Jim into his arms and run.

The third, however, was not his own; it was pressed into his katra from the outside by Jim's careful fingers, his clever mind slipping easily past Spock's shields. Play along, he said, projecting deliberate calm through their connection. Still, Jim was unpracticed in telepathic arts, and beneath that false serenity Spock could feel a tangle of guilt and determination, bitter and writhing.

The truth came to Spock in one fell swoop.

Jim's gambit... was this.

His lips and his hands, which pressed themselves so tenderly to Spock's skin, were not for him.

It was not love which had drawn his captain into his arms, but mere utility. Jim had realized what Spock had not: though they could not hide themselves, they could, perhaps, distract from themselves.

Two men attempting to look inconspicuous would only draw suspicion. Two men locked in a romantic embrace, however, may be overlooked - or even deliberately ignored. Few were comfortable with looking closely at the private passions of strangers, and fewer still would see reason to. Those searching for them, Spock hoped, would not. There would be no logic in halting an escape attempt solely for a kiss, after all.

Therefore, in order to escape unnoticed, they must be convincing.

They must seem, to any observers, to be completely and entirely immersed in one another, with no care for anything going on in their surroundings, and no fear of discovery.

Two lives, purchased with a kiss.

It was entirely logical, then, for Spock to part his lips, inviting Jim's tongue to dip inside of the wet cave of his mouth and meeting it with his own. If a groan rumbled deep within his chest, it could surely only help their cause; there was no need to swallow it down.

This disguise would, Spock observed as Jim's tongue flicked gently at his mouth, be far easier to maintain than it had any right to be.

It was a terribly simple matter for a man in love to behave as though he were a man in love.

The difficult part, then, would be remembering that it was a ruse. Already, heat bubbled deep within Spock, aching want suffusing his every neuron. Every faint brush of flesh sent golden tendrils of telepathic energy sparking across his skin, and it was all Spock could manage to hold himself back from pressing hungry fingers to Jim's meldpoints and sinking into that wonderfully enticing mind.

Instead, Spock slipped a hand beneath the hem of Jim's shirt, rucking up the cloth until he was tracing patterns across a smooth expanse of golden skin. He flexed his hand, allowing his nails to scratch carefully along Jim's spine, and did not permit himself to consider reaching upwards, to Jim's face - or worse: downwards, beyond the waistband of his pants.

He wondered if Jim would have chosen this, had he known how very much Spock wanted.

Perhaps it was selfish of Spock to allow it.

Still, he could not force himself away - not when Jim's life was at stake. The kiss was his lifeline, and so the kiss must remain.

The touch of their minds, however, did nothing to aid Jim. It was solely for Spock's benefit, taken from Jim without his knowledge or intent.

That, Spock could end.

If Jim was to unknowingly place himself into the hands of someone who wanted more than he would wish to give, then Spock would take it upon himself to be his protector - even if the one he must protect against was himself.

And so, Spock opened himself to every offered touch, and girded his mind against every stray thought, until not a single wisp of golden energy could find its way past his defenses.

When Jim's thigh nudged its way between Spock's legs, Spock spread his stance wider, allowing him to press closer, and did not let himself feel. His hands grasped and squeezed at the soft flesh beneath them, drawing quiet gasps from a pink-flushed throat, and no pleasant hum buzzed against his fingertips, carrying with it the flavor of human emotion. Jim nipped at his lips and pet at his hair, and Spock pressed every scrap of yearning deep down within himself to where they couldn't emerge.

Eyes closed and spirit aching, Spock kissed him.

_____________

from this ask game

[thefallenangel2008]

GRAVITY FALLS FANDOM, WE NEED POLE DANCER STAN FANFICS ASAP!!!!!! BECAUSE I JUST WENT TO AO3 AND FOUND ONLY ONE FANFIC, UNFINISHED, AND IT'S FUCKING STANCEST.

[starstruckodysseys]

every friend group has the:

oldest woman in the world

transgender allegory

transgender allegory

transgender allegory

transgender allegory

transgender allegory

[sallow-gaunt]

Headcanon

Sebastian is a good student. He’s bright, he’s charming, and it’s no wonder his teachers think he’s capable because his parents were both professors so it would make sense that he’s grown up well-read and educated.

But then Anne gets cursed before the end of their fourth year and stops attending Hogwarts - as his fourth year draws to a close, his grades begin to slip because he’s not paying attention in class, he starts breaking curfew because he’s staying up after hours to research cures, all he can think about is how to help his sister and it negatively impacts his studies. He puts on a facade in class, but his smiles are fake, and when he thinks no one is looking, he turns sullen. The only friend he spends much time with anymore is Ominis, and while their friendship is admirable, it’s a far cry from the boy who used to banter with everyone, the boy who always had something to say. The professors try to be understanding given his circumstances, but they’re all undeniably worried about him.

At the beginning of fifth year, this behaviour continues - but there’s something different, if only slightly. Hecat notices it first in the first DADA lesson of the year when he duels the new fifth year; despite the fact he loses this duel, she notices the way he grins at the new student, his boyish face bright in a way it hasn’t been since his sister was cursed. It’s nice to see him smile again, she thinks.

The next to notice it is Professor Weasley, when she comes to fetch him from detention with a “special task”; he looks surprised but relieved to be out of detention, and listens as she explains that she wants him to take the new fifth year to Hogsmeade for supplies. She doesn’t miss the way he beams ear to ear upon hearing that the fifth year asked for him specifically when encouraged to go with a friend, and as he goes to meet them in the entrance hall, there’s a sudden bounce to his step. It makes her smile to herself, pleased that he seems genuinely happy.

It doesn’t take long for all of the faculty to notice it, and it becomes a hot topic of conversation among them. Garlick insists that she keeps seeing him and the new fifth year laughing together on their way to Herbology, even on days they don’t work together; Sharp notes that while Sebastian still works with Ominis, he’s often seen at the potion station of the new student, the two of them talking in low teasing tones that suggest a friendly banter. Ronen disclosed that while the new student often chooses to sit with Natty or Poppy for Charms, he’s caught them and Sebastian looking at each other from across the classroom; everyone has a good chuckle when even Fig remarks that he’s often seen Sebastian waiting outside of his classroom when the new student leaves, as if the Slytherin boy has been waiting to see them. Many of the other teachers also recall seeing the two in each other’s presence around the school constantly, sharing sweets and talking.

They all agree that the presence of the new fifth year student is the cause of Sebastian’s uplifted mood, there’s no other explanation quite frankly. He’s not completely the same as he was before - he is still breaking curfew, still not focusing completely on his work, still seems sullen on most days - but when he’s around the new student, he’s definitely happier and more like his old self.

[shmisky]

What do you think was Stan's fate in the Better World Timeline?

Ooh, very interesting question! Thanks for the ask and sorry in advance for the enormous answer you’re about to get, hahah ❤️

So, to begin answering that (I promise I will eventually!), I have to first point out that what always caught my attention in Ford’s Better World description in the journal is that not once he meets his parallel self. On that hangs my entire analysis.

Instead, he gives us a reason why they didn’t meet: parallel!Fiddleford explains that he had been leading a portal expedition to a certain dimension, but one of the security officers ran into his parallel self and as soon as they touched hands, the entire dimension started to warp and fizz with static. Fiddleford and his team barely escaped alive!

But that’s the thing: as soon as they touched hands, only! Not as soon as they saw each other, or as soon as they were in the same room together, or as soon as they talked to each other, like you sometimes see in fanfic! No, it very much required actual skin-to-skin contact. You would think that Professor Stanford Pines, celebrated star of the scientific community, founder of the International Institute of Oddology, and our Ford, 12 PhDs (or a few less PhDs at the time) would have enough sense and self-control to... just not try and touch each other? Or, for security reasons, stand at least a few meters away from each other? If they feared an accidental touch so much, they could have talked through a glass panel or some kind of physical divide. I do believe every Ford must be a deeply curious individual, and you’re telling me that parallel!Ford, known genius, wasn’t capable of creating a way to enable himself to interview his parallel selves safely? Wouldn’t you be very curious to meet your parallel self? I think it’s more likely than not that other versions of Ford would end up pushed through the portal, so our Ford might not even have been the first Ford to visit that dimension.

But instead Fiddleford goes so far as to detain our Ford and hold him captive without even attempting to explain things first! A bit overkill, no? You could say, “but Bunny, Fiddleford just didn’t want impulsive, reckless Ford to go and run to his parallel self upon seeing him for the first time!” But herein, my friend, lies the crux of the matter: even after Fiddleford explains things to our Ford, even after our Ford understands he couldn’t touch his parallel self... He still doesn’t meet or talk to parallel!Ford. Wasn’t he trusted enough/allowed to do so, even then?

My Doylist explanation (that considers what led the author to choose a certain path) to that is: the writers just didn’t want the two Fords to meet and wanted to leave it ambiguous. It’s really not that deep 😭

My favorite Watsonian explanation (in-universe headcanon) to that is: Fiddleford didn’t want them to meet 😏

Now, would Fiddleford ever lie to Ford? Yes. In fact, he already did, in our original timeline! Ford asked him to destroy the memory gun, Fiddleford apparently agreed. “He was crestfallen by my advice, but after some discussion he came to see the wisdom in it. He said that he didn’t want to risk forgetting his wife and son. I ordered him to destroy the gun, and he did.” (“Ordered”... Oh, Ford, never change...) Reality: Fiddleford hadn’t destroyed it at all, and in fact used it on Ford to erase his memories without Ford’s consent or knowledge.

So even though I don’t think this was, necessarily, either Alex’s or Rob Renzetti’s intentions, I like to think parallel!Fiddleford was bullshitting our Ford a bit. To which extent, I don’t know. The thing about the parallel selves touching and causing a dimension to end might very well be true (in fact, according to Alex’s Word of God, it is! he has said on Twitter that parallel selves really can’t meet in their home dimensions, but can meet in the in-between spaces!) BUT because of the reasons I explained above, it’s my headcanon that it wasn’t the main reason why Fiddleford didn’t want the two Fords meeting.

I just love, love the vibes of A Better World. I love how utterly smitten with that world our Ford is. He describes himself as “drawn” towards the Institute “like a moth to a flame,” and mentions his desire to “revel in [his] parallel self’s success.” He’s utterly smitten it with it despite never once meeting his parallel self. He imagines his parallel self as the happiest man on Earth despite never once meeting his parallel self. He leaves that dimension sighing wistfully despite never once meeting his parallel self. I love how parallel!Ford is just... shrouded in this very ambiguous mystery. It all sounds a little bit ominous to me. Is he happy? Is he satisfied? Does he like what he accomplished?

Our Ford, of course, imagines that he is. Our Ford doesn’t even wonder about parallel!Stan, because that’s who Stanford Pines is: self-centered as all hell, hahah. His brother doesn’t even cross his mind, since he’s too busy being dazzled by his apparent great success and the fulfillment of his dreams! I think he subconsciously assumed parallel!Stan must have been fine.

What do I think happened to parallel!Stan? Oh, well, he’s very much dead 🪦💐 And parallel!Ford, the man Ford believes to be so lucky, is actually miserable. Fiddleford was merely protecting our Ford from the truth.

If you want to get a bit darker, just look at this excerpt from the Not What He Seems script:

Meanwhile, in the Lost Legends comics, Ford is saying shit like this:

We stan an insensitive king who is utterly and blissfully oblivious to his brother’s dangerously low self-esteem and borderline suicidal thoughts ❤️

Before TBoB, I might have been reluctant to think something so dark could happen in GF, since it still is, after all, a cartoon for kids, and Stan’s a main character! But then TBoB went and revealed to us that Dipper and Mabel died horrible deaths in all the other timelines! 😭 And while I do take that with a grain of salt because it was revealed to us by Bill Cipher and Bill is not trustworthy but a professional liar, just the fact Alex acknowledged and played with the possibility of the two protagonists dying horribly is already pretty telling in and of itself...

I think that once parallel!Ford called Stan after a decade, unwittingly gave him hope, and then ripped it out from his hands... Yeah. We know how Ford is important to Stan. Reconciliation with Ford might very well have been what was pushing Stan forward. Stan can be very, very stubborn—working on a portal for 30 years—when Ford is involved. But having no Ford at all...

Parallel!Ford might have planned to call Stan back, but by then it was probably too late. So yeah. I like to imagine that parallel!Ford would be, ironically, so, so jealous of our Ford’s happy ending with Stan.

Actually, as I type this, the funniest idea occurred to me. The real reason Fiddleford didn’t allow the two Fords to meet is that parallel!Ford, upon listening our Ford praise his accomplishments and shit-talk Stan (“I can’t believe Stanley listen to you! He’s so stubborn, so selfish, he never listens!”) would disregard all reason, all training, and all self-control just for the precious chance to punch himself in the face. Dimension ending catastrophe? A minor detail.

[oh-no-its-bird]

Ok, so. Smashing together my recent posts (stoner Itama / the secret Senju weed empire money / co-dependent twins Itama and Tobirama) to make a cohesive narrative:

So, Itama survives AU.

In this, Itama and Tobirama are twins. They're very close, arguably closer to each other than Hashi is to either of them.

Growing up, after Kawarama died, Hashirama found a new friend in his boy by the river. Meaning the twins were sort of left to mourn on their own, their older brother no longer as interested in playing with them. They got to be almost dangerously codependent, and their father only encouraged it bc they were also training to fight as a duo, and the codependency made the team synergy go crazy hard.

On that note, they're absolutely terrifying in battle together for sure. They're nightmares on their own already, but together?? Let's say that as long as they're fighting side by side, they're on the same level as Hashirama himself.

Itama grows up to be a scientist like Tobirama, but in a different field of science— ✨️plants✨️

Itama is like, a bioengineer for plants. He's crossbreeding the fuck out of these bad boys, finding ways to amplify certain traits in some plants, erase them altogether in others, or mixing them up for the best of both worlds. Full doctor Frankenstein plant edition

It's fun bc he often gets help from both of his brothers, and he's also able to help the both of them in turn!

Hashirama helps with growing plants, meaning Itama doesn't have to wait the years this research would usually take. He can go from nothing to having his final product in days flat when it should have taken a fucking lifetime to do. If he fucks up it's no stress bc as long as he has the seeds, Hashirama can just grow him a new plant to start from! All he needs is one single seed and an entire world of new possibilities is unlocked.

On top of all that, the mokuton can affect the plants in ways growing by regular time doesn't, so Itama also gets to play with special mokuton plants too

Then Itama can give Hashirama all sorts of new plants to potentially use in battle, tho Hashirama doesn't seem to want to use want against the Uchiha. But like. He has them!! And it's fucking terrifying!!! Plus they can just in general bond over being plant enthusiasts. If Hashi finds a cool new plant or vice versa they can get excited about it together

Tobirama understands all to most of Itama's research, at least in theory, and will often help with his experiments. Likewise, Itama also understands all to most of Tobirama's own research (at least in theory) and can help him in return. Having their own specific fields of interest, they're often bringing a fresh pair of eyes and different thought process to the others experiments, and it's great for them both. SO many results.

Itama is let in on most of Tobirama's projects, and even if he's not helping he generally knows what he's working on and vice versa. They have few secrets and its actually just in general very good for Tobirama specifically. Like, mentally and support wise.

Because Itama never died to serve as that final push over the edge, and was instead there to offer emotional support, Tobirama didn't turn to necromancy. (If he had tho, Itama would have been fully on board— sorry Hashirama) Instead, maybe he's spending that time being even more focused on cool time/space jutsu or something.

So like, all grown up he's a poison specialist with a major wind chakra attribute and minor fire attribute. His main weapon is a pipe, which he just smokes normally on top of using its smoke as a weapon. He can put so much pressure into the smoke that it becomes physical, and can then be used as a blunt force weapon (on top of ofc the smoke being used as just smoke, and having different effects on its own)

He's immune to a lot of his smokes effects, but has special extra powerful versions of most of his go to weaponized smokes that are so strong they work even on him. Obviously, he doesn't usually use these in battle, but they're there as a last resort

Fun sort of chain reaction attack where he disperses some super flammable powder or smoke then tosses in a single spark and it goes up like fucking fireworks. Or a cool combo attack where Tobirama provides hella fog with whatever water is nearby, and Itama condenses it so thickly that it chokes out their enemies without having to lift a single finger.

He can make like, platforms of smoke to stand on or use as shields, and he's especially good at deflecting and redirecting enemy attacks with carefully condensed smoke shields summoned up at just the right angles. Like, imagine you throw a kunai and it bounces off some invisible platform, then off ANOTHER invisible platform, and somehow its still gaining momentum (propelled by summoned winds or wrapped in a slightly solidified veil of smoke thats moving it on its own) and hits you right in the eyes

He absolutely fucks around with making all SORTS of custom effects with whatever he's smoking, which also brings us to the idea that got me here in the first place ->

Ok so the joke about the Senju having a secret weed empire where they sell ultra special mokuton weed, but it happens fr in this AU bc of Itama.

Stoner Itama deciding he can make the weed even better and forgetting what the word self-control means and making objectively the best weed in the naruto world. Ultra delux genetically modified mokuton grown senju weed.

Tobirama kind of gets on him for it at first (not liking the idea of mind-altering substances) but then tries some and stares dead silent at a wall for 10 hours then silently gets up, makes several scientific breakthroughs, then passes out dead on the floor.

They get Hashirama in on it and start mass producing, then start selling it and very quickly and mostly accidentally create a secret senju weed empire (oops?) which also gives them hella funds or the war and other things

No one can even reproduce their weed bc they need the Mokuton to grow it right, they have no competition in the market. AND their product safety/quality is insane bc Tobirama's perfectionist ass helps oversee it

Bc of Itama's interference, Izuna lives, and when they make Konoha the weed money means the first shinobi war doesn't happen bc they can afford to bribe officials they couldn't before (and probably have a uhh. Much more relaxed Kage meeting that year.)

You can't go to war with Konoha !!! That's where all the best ninja weed comes from !!!

Itama and Izuna get along really well actually. Izuna's cringe fail ass does NOT know how to smoke and refuses to admit it, he also becomes Itama's favorite test subjects for new product bc he and his brothers tolerance levels are insane so they need like, a normal guy to try shit on

As a person, Itama is one of those really friendly, charming, easy to get along with guys who seem to have a ton of friends— but when you look a bit closer you quickly notice that while many of those friends share their woes with him, he doesn't really with them. He has lots of friends but isn't really close to any.

He's a pretty good mix of his brothers, seeming friendly and cheerful like Hashirama but much more down to earth, and with the same ruthless streak as Tobirama underneath all the gentle mannerisms. He might be more ruthless than either of his brothers when it really comes down to it, but he's very slow to strike or anger, and virtually no one but his brothers and Touka really know he even has that side to him.

He's Konoha's lead poisons expert, is 100% aware and helping Tobirama with all of his especially fucked up experiments, and honestly that should tell you enough— but most tend to get distracted by the soft smiles and sleepy expression.

Art interlude ->

Anyways uhhh. All of this only exists bc I started thinking ab stoner Itama getting dumped face first into modern Konoha with Izuna, the two of them having been hiding after pissing off Madara for unimportant reasons. They don't realize they're not in their Konoha, and proceed to run from Madara (who they still think is mad at them)

Meanwhile Madara is losing his fucking MIND trying to chase down the ghost of his brother, and also some guy...? Who is that actually? He doesnt really give a shit tbh, Izuna oh god please come back here— ARE YOU FUCKING HIGH RIGHT NOW?

@fashionredalert : Zetsu lived in fear of Itama because itama would have made him into an edible That's why zetsu is two colors, itama smoked one half of him before zetsu managed to escape. One half intact the other half charred black

Please?? The closest hes been to death in years.

Itama was put on this earth to smoke everything he physically can, he hasnt been sober since he was 13, he no longer knows the meaning of fear or sanity. If it can burn he can smoke it

Hes holding one of those tiny Zetsu's going "Hey look at this fucked up plant I found :DD" then taking it straight into the weed lab

Zetsu specifically had him killed in canon bc he knew he'd grow to be too powerful pass it on

[fuumiku]

Demon AU (krkb)

+ bonus Kuro

Kurokabuuu!! If Kabru gets to be naked then so does Kuro, equality for all 🔥Not to break the mystique but in that intro comic Kuro isn't flexing he's just pushing Mickbell away bc he about to be in business mode gdbdg. Was weird trying to make Kuro look more demony, did not work very well except for making him buffer but hey...! A black dog demon yeah yeah yeah...!

I have accidentally recreated Howl's Moving Castle... NOW HEAR ME OUT- The base concept for my satyr Kabru AU (the initial idea was the sketch where he has no horns haha) now turned demon AU was materializing Kabru's fear of anything monster, particularly his insecurity as a kid of being an incubus('s child and that making him a monster), and helping him work through it so he can love himself and others and the world better, but everything started clicking only after thinking about Kuro's role in the setting more. He's this feared dude with a witchy reputation and a lil rhyme about how everyone should stay away from him for their own sake etc etc, but he's not a demon just a dog dude really. The setting in this AU is much like Dunmeshi, but all monsters are called "demons" instead and tied with this concept of demonic not just monstrous, there's special generalized fear in them being kinda fundamentally evil. But they're just beasts, and sometimes just demihuman races, like Kuro. Magic does exist though, and curses, and yeah just a folk kinda vibe!

Kabru because he's become supernatural knows how to speak Kuro's tongue now too, or maybe he's always known it idk... But Kabru sought Kuro out because he's The demon guy around, thought if anyone around would know how to do anything about his having become a monster it'd be him- Mickbell is there too ig like waaa this innocent-looking (def isn't) human loves this demon and lives with him, alone but peaceful as hermits in the woods? Wah wild. Wah we can still have love?? Wah we can fall in love together and live happy monster lives even if ostracized??! Wah wait I'm not even a monster it was just my own latent magical powers cursing myself because I worried and believed myself to be a demon so intensely for so long?!! Wah we can truly have it all...... Growth feels so nice. Except Mickbell, that grown ass man is not finding inner peace yet. Still he's chill here since he's a side char not a main one

It's how Kuro's confident in himself despite everything being stacked against him, it's how he still trusts and likes himself, it's how he just wants a simple happy life and pursues what he wants, it's how he takes things simply... Self-critical Kabru always neglecting himself over obsessing about the greater good could learn from him........ Kuro is the only one after his transformation that unconditionally welcomes him and shows him compassion and it's all so confusing to him, especially since at first Kabru wouldn't even offer that same humanization to Kuro, only risked it out of necessity for his own circumstances, but he gradually becomes able to see the humanity in him despite his appearance, mannerisms, way of life and ideals, until he sees the humanity in him and himself too despite their appearances, until he finds there's nothing wrong in this routine and life of theirs in this isolated magical little place, until........... Just about accepting all of those fuzzy inbetween ways to be that are unclean and hard to understand from the outside, and growing comfortable in them and loving himself and kuro and the life they've made together.......!!!!!! What if through humanizing you I humanized myself... What if through growing a understanding for each other wevalidated ourselves, love as self-love...

I love including Rin into things, for a more plotty story it'd be neat if she tried and followed Kabru... He up and disappeared and she's a capable mage and she doesn't know what his plan was because he never tells her anything so she goes out and pursues him- Could even be the main antagonist besides just idk self-hate and townspeople lol, like she thinks Kuro is keeping him prisoner or something and also because she kinda represents the same kinda social trauma Kabru has, where she's strict about conforming and being an irreproachable undeniable human so she kind of wants to drag him back to that state he was in of anxiety over acting and being human enough...... But of course in the ultimate confrontation when she has her staff pointed at Kuro and they talk, she's hurt by him not confiding in her and thinking of her as someone who wouldn't help, but she understands and stops and yay happy ending :> And if we want them to be in this Holm and Dia may be allies I feel 🤔Like maybe they help out Kabru when they see him, help him escape their human village at one point or something, Holm is quite nice and cares for spirits and Dia's fled her home too so they kinda get it in a way, it'd contrast Rin... This isn't about the Laios party lol. Rin & Mickbell shenanigans would lowkey be fun like maybe Mickbell tricks Rin into thinking Kabru IS there against his will so she can take him away and the status quo of Mickbell not having to share Kuro with anyone is preserved, or maybe they just shittalk and grumble together. Gbdgd this is a plotline about accepting change and these two are noooot happy about it

So yeah he hates being a monster that's the schtick!! Won't a cool dog man pleaseeee turn me human again. Surely he can do that right. So he goes to live with this feared coolass magicky guy and that guy's little guy at his weird home and through making connections and self-love the curse you actually unknowingly put on yourself gradually lessens and disappears, but you don't care anymore because that's the point 😌 Which is why I call it a Howl's Moving Castle recolor gdbd

Kabru is usually the voice of reason within kurokabu so it's really fun switching the roles in that way. If you're just stumbling into this and are sooo confused first of all congrats on getting so far second I can't overstate how unironic this is + if you want more explanation about the ship I made a brainstormy manifesto here <3 Like, did you know Kuro's name is actually Yodan? He was likely called Kuro by Mickbell due to the language barrier. In this AU it's because no one's interested in him as a person so people just give him an ominous title that means black. But Kabru learning his name and Kuro willingly giving away that information and Kabru feeling the weight of it because he really thinks this'd allow him to control him (he can't actually control bc he's not a demon! No one's a demon yay! Just weirdo humans who get otherized)......

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Other vers because I 1) really like it and 2) am very indecisive. I overthink every single slight color change I stg lol

Sigh....... Like bro what if we were both so so far away from home and we knew we can't really go back and we've made our peace with that but man I miss not having been ripped away from my homeland and we are both so so isolated in our own ways in our presents and with a small yet gigantic gesture of compassion and of seeing each other we can learn and grow together with secret study dates where I teach you how to communicate the same way you're teaching me your language, we are both reaching across to each other we are both finding in one another a presence and humanity that feels so rare anywhere else. A sliver of warmth a sliver of home but also a sliver of the new, and embracing that things are changing and that we've changed and wow the animality within humanity and the humanity within animality!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hey bro your humanity I am only now fully grasping and coming to terms with is so hot bro............ What if your beastly features ended up making me more comfortable in my own stinky human animal flawedness bro........ What if we could just be together reassured through each other that we're human enough no matter what and that's all we need to just be and wahhhhh aughhhhh

Kurokabu is Kuro needing to choose between Kuro and Yodan. Kurokabu is needing to feel comfortable in animality within humanity. What if we stopped repressing ourselves 🫶

[loveshackz]

late contribution for ford gets held down day, early contribution for april is the cruelest month! day 10: touch starved/presumed dead

tags and such:

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Gravity Falls Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Bill Cipher/Ford Pines Characters: Bill Cipher, Ford Pines Additional Tags: Touch-Starved, Predator/Prey, Ford Pines' Portal Adventures, Isolation, ford is blind to bill's pathetic antics, Presumed Dead, Triangle Bill Cipher, Stranded, it was supposed to be whump Summary:

He was so starved for contact that even these small gestures swallowed all his attention. He hated it. Hated that he was enjoying the soft touch of his mortal enemy. He hated it so much that he didn’t want it to end, because when it did he would have to reckon with it.