#sorry this was supposed to be longer

[tvreadsandsleep]

» Domestic!Attoye || Attoye Prompt Drabbles || Master List « » Sex Toy Chronicles #3 — Continuation of Pillowcase «

Attuma’s dick pulsed, its hard length pressing into his belly as he fed the first of his fingers into Okoye’s ass. She accepted them, her lower muscles relaxing while her back arched towards him. Mesmerized, he watched his blue digit disappear into her body, thanking every one of his gods that he’d been mindful enough to grab the lubricant she kept stored in her nightstand. Any delay of his entering her body, in this way, would have caused grave damage to his soul. It was a near thing, though, his mind turned lecherous by the state in which she’d greeted him.

When he’d arrived at her home, he’d let himself in using the passcode she’d given him. He’d announced himself, bellowing her name, but there’d been no response. And so Attuma had gone in search of her. He’d found the kitchen and living room, the usual areas she could be located, empty. Moving further into the house, he’d headed for her bedroom. It’d been early, and, while Okoye wasn’t prone to napping, maybe she’d needed to lie down. He’d remembered keeping her up most of the previous night, wringing orgasm after orgasm out of her body until she’d begged him to stop.

Smug grin overtaking his face, he’d pushed open the door to her bedroom and had been, unexpectedly, greeted with the most arousing of sights. His warrior. His sun. His Okoye had been clothed in the most sheer of fabrics. Though it’d covered her breasts, he could easily make out her nipples, the dark tips pebbled and drawing his attention. A rose had been embroidered at its center, nestled between the globes, on which he loved to pillow his head, and situated above a slit that left the material to drape on either side of her abdomen and thighs.

Attuma had had no name for the clothing, but had delighted in all it revealed. Her legs, which had curved underneath her as she’d knelt on the bed were bare, thin strips of cloth visible along her hips. Taking in her scantily clad form, it’d been a while before he’d noticed what she’d held in her hand. A pair of handcuffs had rested on Okoye’s palm, their shine reflecting the fading sun let in by the window’s open blinds. They hadn’t yet incorporated the use of toys in their sexual play, and this mere welcome had let him know he was in for quite the evening.

His excitement had doubled with the discovery of her other purchases, and, now, slipping a second finger into her greedy back entrance, Attuma was on cloud nine. He’d poured more lubricant onto his hand, unwilling to harm her in anyway, and twisted them as he pushed and pulled the digits from inside her. Okoye’s answering moans were lyrical treats he gorged himself on while he envisioned replacing his fingers with his cock, fucking her tight passage until she screamed his name.

However, that fantasy was for another time. Tonight, Okoye had requested that both her holes be filled, and her desires always took priority, especially in the bedroom. Positioning, the butt plug nearer to him on the bed, he dribbled the lube over its surface then used his free hand to more evenly coat it.

“My love, I will place the toy inside you now,” he warned, kissing the cleft of her ass.

He gently pulled his fingers free, savoring the mournful sound she made for he too grieved the loss of her snug warmth around his fingers. Placing the slickened toy at her opening, he nudged it in—staring, transfixed, as it was engulfed by her body. The pink rose at its end looked darling against her skin.

Attuma knew he needed to cleanse his hands before proceeding with the second half of her request, but was unable to tear himself away. His gaze locked on the sight of her anus quivering about the toy, the muscles contracting and relaxing, until he was compelled to taste. He licked around the toy’s edge and inhaled her scent, pleased as she begged him to fuck her.

[pangur-and-grim]

every time I say “starting nooooow I won’t have any major expenses” something HAPPENS! there’s raw sewage backing up from my drains, and apparently the plumbers will need to break the floor and the wall to get to the pipes and fix it.

if the cat stuff hadn’t wiped out my bank account, this would be annoying but manageable. as it is…..I’m going to try to get everything up in the store for Friday.

[dailyheavymedic]

day 50

(15/16)

[deadsetobsessions]

Much of his misery were consequences of his own making. Danny accepted that. He drowned in it, really.

But this?

Jason stood before him, dressed in traffic cone colors in front of a still but apprehensive Batman. Jason- that was his baby brother, damn it, this universe’s version of his older sister!- hunched in on himself, knowing he had been caught and recognized. Danny’s world narrowed and crumpled onto itself, the bloodied face of his dead sister superimposed on Jason’s masked one.

This was all Batman’s fault.

Suddenly, he remembered all those time Jazz looked at him with terror in her eyes. She wasn’t scared of him. No, she was scared for him.

Looking back, Danny finally understood the fragile look in her eyes when he asked her- quietly, so his parents didn’t hear- to patch him up. He had broken her heart, had soured it with fear tempered by love. Danny stared at his baby brother- his sister, with that red hair and impossibly blue eyes and that kind but sharp wit- and realized with a sense of finality that he too was about to experience that heartbreak. He too would know the pain of watching some break themselves for a city they loved, a sense of responsibility he wished they didn’t have- one that he had, before it and grief tore everything away from him.

But Danny wasn’t willing to admit defeat. He would rather suffer another half death than let a life of vigilantism hurt his loved ones. The world could burn. He’d learned a long time ago what this life cost and Danny wasn’t going to lose Jason too.

He set down the bottle of wine with a loud and clear thunk. It was untouched. He hadn’t opened it, hadn’t had the chance to when the duo dropped down unsuspectingly on his apartment roof top.

“No,” Danny said, voice filled with crackling brimstone and spine laced with cold hard steel. It’s the voice he used when he fought Vlad. It’s the voice he had when he helped the Ancients shut Pariah Dark away. It was the voice he had when he begged Jazz to not die.

“Wait, Danny,” Jason- Robin, Batman put his little brother in bright kill-target clothes and named him after a fucking bird- pleaded. Danny cut him off, in a way he’s never done before. He loved it when Jason talked. It was a sign that Jason felt safe enough to talk about his interests and things he cared about without fear of retaliation.

“No,” he repeated, face carefully blank. Jason didn’t like aggressiveness. It reminded him of terrible days, so Danny watched himself around Jason, learning the neutral face and carefully non threatening body language until he did it like breathing. “We will be having words on the matter of you lying to me, sneaking out, and meeting up with a strange old man later. But you, Jason Peter Todd, are done with whatever this is right now. Go inside, change, eat, and wait.”

“You’re drinking again,” Jason mulishly said, though the stubbornness was dulled by his apprehensiveness. “I ain’t taking-”

“And I will apologize for that later. Home. Now, please.”

Jason paused. His eyes, surrounded by the fabric of a domino mask, surveyed Danny’s stance. He mumbled a gritted “fine.” With one last glance, Jason disappeared off the scaffolding- giving Danny half a heart attack because when the hell did Jason learn to do that? What if he got hurt??- and into the open window of his bedroom.

Danny kept eyes-to-lense contact with Batman the entire time.

“Close the window,” he called down to Jason, glaring at Batman the entire time.

He heard a curse mixed with grumbling before Jason closed the window with a thud.

Danny immediately rounded on Batman.

“You. How dare you trick my baby brother into all of this?” His eyes glowed a sickening green, hazy in the beginning of a drizzling Gotham rain.

“He would have done it with or without me. This way, he has support.”

“You? Support? You think that’s enough? You think you’re enough?” Danny stalked closer. He was stone cold sober now, and Batman was about to witness what he was capable of when he’s sober.

“I’m better than nothing,” Batman growled.

“No. You’re worse,” Danny snapped at him. The thing about heroes, current or former ones like Danny, was that they tended to know what made people tick. It was how they knew to comfort them, after all. Danny honed in, words brutal and cutting. “You encourage him, yes, but you encourage him to go into this life of yours like it’s a healthy thing to do. Without you, he’d be stopping muggings here and there. Maybe, he’d get in trouble with a crime syndicate. But you? You take a dip in the worst Gotham has to offer, and you expect it to never taint you? You think you’re protecting him but what you’re really doing is dragging him with you. The mud you track in will eventually drown my baby brother, Batman.”

Batman tilted his stupid pointy eared head. “You have experience with this,” he said quietly. A realization.

“You don’t know what it’s like to lose someone because you decided to pull him into this life. I do. So don’t fucking drag him into your fight because he deserves a chance at a life that won’t try its damn hardest to break him. Your self sacrifice and sense of justice will mean nothing to a dead boy.”

Because in the end, it hadn’t mattered for Danny.

Because in the end, he was still left bereft of the family he had and made, all because he chose responsibility.

Because in the end, the dead boy was Danny, but he was left alive enough to grieve.

Danny took a deep, wavering breath before whirling on his heels and marching back inside. Batman watched him walk away. He took a moment before walking down to their apartment.

——

Jason sat at their dining table, homework out and Robin mask laid carefully on the table. He’d changed into his pjs while Danny laid into Batman and seemed to be on his best behavior. Danny took a moment to lean against the doorway, quietly cherishing the last moments of peace he’ll ever know.

He needs your support, Jazz whispered into his ears.

He needs to not be a vigilante, Danny argued back. His throat missed the spice of the wine he’d yet to drink. But he’d promised not to drink around Jason.

And when had telling vigilantes no crime fighting ever work, dork? Jazz laughed. It certainly hadn’t worked with you, Invis-o-bill.

It made Danny’s heart ache something fierce and he didn’t think he’d ever stop missing his older sister.

I just… don’t want to lose him.

I know. Tell him that. But you will if you don’t support him. You will, because he’ll go off on his own like you did. Don’t do our brother dirty, Danny.

It probably wasn’t healthy to be talking to himself like this.

He walked into the room. Jason stiffened. Ah, he should have noticed. Jason always had exceptional spatial awareness, but recently he’d been even more so. Danny knew why, now.

He sat himself across from Jason, who set his jaw stubbornly. He couldn’t look Danny in the eyes, though, and kept fiddling the edges of his red “The Flash” themed pajama shirt.

Danny couldn’t bring it in himself to be anything but gentle, even in his anger.

“Do you want to tell me why you want to be… Robin?”

“Yeah, it’s Robin,” Jason crossed his arms, looking defensive. His fingers now drummed anxiously on the worn wooden table Danny had picked up for their kitchen/dining area. “I wanna help. Ya- y’helping but not enough. I gotta do more.”

Danny tried very very hard not to bury his face into his hands and scream. He did, however, make a dying whale noise that had Jason making offended faces.

“I thought Alley kids were supposed to have self preservation instincts?” Danny bemoaned.

“How d’ya think I’m still alive?” Jason shot back. “Robin’s magic. The other day-”

See, Danny had a plan. He did. He wanted to shut this down.

But as he watched Jason describe the crooks he took down and the people he’s helped, all he could see was Jazz, passionately advocating for improvements in mental health and how much she could help people. He saw the spark in Jason’s eyes, and could only think of Jazz’s heart and how Jason had inherited it and made it his own.

And, what hurts above all, is that Danny saw himself, before everything was ripped from him. Danny saw the hope that Jason carried, the care he had for others and it made him want to cry. Is this why Jazz hadn’t tried to stop him, all those years ago?

Was his choice to become Phantom not a choice that brought her despair but rather something that inspired his older sister?

“I ain’t the first Robin- but- I’m helping.” Jason said, desperate for Danny to understand. “I’m good at it.”

And he does- he does, but.

“You’re better than the first Robin,” Danny said, clearly without bias. Really, he was being fair about it. “You’re already my hero.”

And he was. Even from the moment they met, Jason’s small form, determined despite the fear, had inspired Danny to be better. To be what Phantom used to be.

“Y’re just sayin’ that.” Jason mumbled. “So… does this mean you’re gonna lemme be Robin?”

Danny hesitated. “The reason that I’m against it isn’t because I think you’re incapable.”

Then Danny told his little brother everything. Almost.

“I used to be a vigilante, a long time ago,” he began. Danny wove a tapestry of stories. He spoke of the scars he’d gotten, the things he’d seen and done to help, and more importantly, of the people he’s loved and lost.

“You remind me of my sister, Jay.”

“‘Cause I got red hair?” Jason asked quietly.

“Yes and more. You’re so brave, and your heart is so big. You want to help people at the roots. You care so much and you’re both incredibly intelligent.” Danny closed his eyes. “Losing her broke me. I’m not against you becoming a vigilante, Jay. I’m just scared about losing you and being a vigilante increases those chances.”

“I won’t die.” Jason promised.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Jay.” Danny leaned over and ruffled Jason’s hair. “But I know that you’re eventually going to go back to vigilantism eventually. That’s… that’s just kind of how it is.”

Danny hated it but he knew that he wouldn’t have listened at Jason’s age.

“But you haven’t.” Jason gripped his wrist. “Y’ain’t right?”

“What did you think happened to Charlie?”

Jason blinked. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Danny smiled, tired and sad but buoyant. He’ll be there for Jason like Jazz was for him. “I guess there’s only one choice left.”

“What’s that?”

Danny smiled mischievously. “I just gotta be a vigilante again. But don’t tell Batman. That asshole’s gotta suffer a bit.”

Jason giggled and Ancients, Danny could hear Jazz’s little snort in there. “Really?!”

“Yes. I’ll train you if you want. I gotta be out there to make sure you don’t die on me.”

“I won’t.”

This time, Danny actually believed it. Mostly because whoever tried to cross his little brother was about to find out why even the Ancients bowed when he got angry.

——

Jason: *is cute and happy Robin*

Criminals: *fear*

Jason: see that, Danny? They were so afraid of me! I’m super intimidating

Danny, who had been standing behind Jason and making silent threats at them like a demon from Constantine’s hell: yeah, baby brother you’re the scariest, I’m so proud of you

Me, trying to write Danny and Bruce getting along: *challenge failed*

Listen, Danny has too much fight me you rich weirdo vibes

[fight-for-what-you-love]

I Do

Colbie Caillat

╾━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╼

◃◃ II ▹▹

Jeeeezzz guys. It's only been a day and everyone's already sick of your antics. Again. You'd think they'd be more reserved considering what they went through to get here.

But forget everyone else- they just got MARRIED!!! Who can think of anyone else when they're this happy??

[starmocha]

Love and Deepspace + Tumblr Text Post ↳ Down Bad for Zayne

[cometblaster2070]

so i'm going to go fucking insane because for a while this aspect of malenia's character design has been bothering me and making me think I'm seeing things and going fucking crazy.

the aspect in question is malenia's left arm:

when i first saw malenia's arm my first thought was oh okay they're probably just bandages or some sort of wraps.

but then you look a bit closer and like

idk about you (because i might be losing it) but it seems like the mesh of whatever the fuck that is very clearly melded with her skin in a way/it looks like it's going into and then emerging out of her skin (which is HORRIFYING to think of I won't lie).

and once again i thought i was going crazy and seeing things because surely these were just meant to be wraps or bandages like the ones we see in the scene of her fighting radahn right?

and then the thought of the needle came to my mind. along with something malenia says in her cutscene before we fight her.

"my flesh was dull gold"

huh. now isn't that interesting.

this would imply that in order to stall the rot from consuming his sister, miquella made a plan to sew unalloyed gold into malenia's skin using his needle in a last-ditch attempt to save her arm.

(granted it's funnier to imagine he just sticks it in her arm and goes okay great all done! and that's probably the canon way it went but)

the thought of the sheer pain malenia must've gone through during this process, to be honest, and the thought of the guilt miquella must've felt at having to force his sister to endure even more agony just to help her is just sad.

and all of it is done just in an attempt to salvage what they can of her and hope that more can't be taken.

edit: btw when looking at malenia pre-bloom and pre-losing her needle it looks like there's a proper layer/cover/whatever it is around her arm up till her knuckles making it seem like an actual covering or layer on top of her skin and what not, but when we fight her post-bloom and post-losing needle it appears like some of the layers have either flaked or fallen away and that reveals that it's actually meshed with/into her skin.

[ceratedfish24]

I'm really not a ship person (nothing against shipping its just not for me usually) but something about Scott rarepairs really intrigue me

Scott rarepairs are so awesome. That’s a man who cares so deeply about those he loves and never expects to be loved back with the same caliber.

The people who he’s commonly paired with are the same people he hangs out with a lot, so they’re more inclined to be aggressive with him when not allied with him. That’s their friend! Of course they’re gonna mess with him.

The people in Scott rarepairs usually don’t talk with Scott as often, but they know his kind of humor because most of them hang out with Cleo and Gem a lot. They also tend to know from the life series that Scott is not a force to be reckoned with. That means that they have a lot of respect for Scott AND a lot of affection for people like Scott.

Something that helps is that Scott is one of the friendliest people in that social circle. I believe that myself, but I say it aloud because so many other people in that social circle have stated such, which is absolutely a testament to how pleasant Scott is to people. People are SO quick to get comfortable around Scott. Tango, Etho, Grian, Bdubs, and Skizz don’t get to talk to Scott very often, and yet they’ve all had on camera moments where they expressed how cool or sweet they find Scott to be.

“Scott’s awesome. Scott’s awesome.” - Tango during his 2nd MCC, which was at Twitchcon, when Scott found him to check on him and encourage him.

“We all need to have people we can trust no matter what’s going on. Bdubs… Scott…” - Etho during Secret Life to Cleo

“Scott is the only person on this server who I trust right now.” - Grian during Third Life

“A birthday party? That sounds- that sounds like Scott or Jimmy- no that’s Scott. Scott’s a very empathetic person.” - Bdubs answering a trivia question this past episode of the Life Series

“Smajor was this other… guy on the life series, and, every time I passed him, he’s kinda nice, and then we talked more and he’s really nice, and now I admire him, and now I like him, and now I- I really like this guy!” - Skizz on the Imp & Skizz podcast describing how he didn’t want to make connections with people for their clout when he joined Third Life, but he couldn’t help but be drawn to Scott. This is also, coincidentally, how crushes tend to develop, Skizzleman.

Scott is a very earnest and caring person, even in the life series, a death game, where that’s not particularly rewarded 100% of the time. Everybody has so much respect for Scott, both because they know that he’s a lot like Cleo and Gem and they have a lot of love and respect for Cleo and Gem and because their personal experiences with Scott have made it clear how sweet and competent he is.

I love Smajor rarepairs, because I’m not into relationships where one person is pulling all of the weight. A lot of mainstream Smajor ships reduce Scott to his relationship and let the other person have their own things going on. There tends to be a lot of focus on the other person, like they’re Scott’s whole world. Rarepairs tend to have Scott’s partner(s) treat him with reverence, which forces Scott to confront his insecurities, how he feels like he needs to earn other people’s affection.

Tango is immune to flirting, but he’s very responsive to Scott’s teasing and eager to banter with him. He doesn’t talk to Scott a lot, but he clearly really likes Scott and how earnest Scott is.

Etho absolutely thinks that Scott is incredible. You can see it in literally every single interaction they have. Etho and Scott probably talk the least out of everyone I mentioned, but I think Etho pays the most attention to Scott and has simply become endeared to him because he sees so much of Cleo and Gem in Scott.

Grian ALWAYS has a compliment for Scott. When he first met Scott, he didn’t trust Scott because “no one’s that happy”. When he learned that Scott’s just like that? Instantly loved Scott. How could you reject someone who’s clearly so happy just to spend time with you? He loves to tease Scott. I think he sees Scott as someone he can properly match wits with, what with how they both love to make short little games and are usually chaotic until they’re the least chaotic in a group and immediately become the responsible one.

Bdubs is terrified of Scott. There’s no other way to put it. Bdubs is more afraid of Scott than he is of Cleo and Gem. He commented during the fourth episode of Wild Life on how Scott is a really hard target. There was fear in his voice. He later tried to convince Tango not to go after him. He really didn’t want to upset Scott. He’s so traumatized after that game of tag. HOWEVER. Bdubs knows that Scott is a man of reason. Bdubs isn’t usually worried about attacking groups that his group is on neutral grounds with, because he knows that they’ll eventually attack him first if he doesn’t beat them to the punch. That’s how this game works. Scott doesn’t do that, and Bdubs has taken note of that and trusts that. Bdubs trusts Scott not to attack him without a reason.

Skizz? I could go on for HOURS about Skizz. Skizz has literally admitted to subconsciously treating Scott like he’s Impulse, who Skizz loves to death, who Skizz trusts when he can’t call anyone else, who Skizz kisses on the temple when they haven’t seen each other for a while. Skizz is a very kind person, but, in game, he’s not the most levelheaded person. Scott is both kind AND levelheaded, which Skizz has a lot of respect for. Scott doesn’t even have a temper to lose when it comes to verbal conversation. Hurt him or his friends and he’ll make you wish you hadn’t, sure, but words will never hurt him. I think Skizz honestly sees a lot of Impulse in Scott, whereas most people see Cleo. People compare Cleo to Scott, because they’re both petty and witty. Skizz compares Impulse to Scott because they’re both petty and survivalists. Skizz has commented many a time on how Scott is so much better than Skizz at PVP and how impressed he is that Scott can evade the entire server when they’re hunting him. Apparently, Skizz (and Impulse) thinks that Scott gives the BEST hugs. Apparently, Scott is the only person whose hugs make Skizz feel like he could fall asleep right then and there.

Another thing I’ve noticed about my favorite Smajor rarepairs is that they all love to make Scott laugh. When Tango teases Scott, it’s never about anything serious. It’s always to make Scott giggle. When he’s around Scott, Etho LOVES to do and say things that would make Cleo or Gem laugh, and they work on Scott too. It’s the “wet cat” behavior he emphasizes when he’s with Cleo and Gem, because he knows that it makes them laugh. Scott has never poked fun at Etho for being “washed up” or “a wet cat”, but he does laugh when Etho emphasizes the “lost puppy” behavior. Outside of the life series, Grian isn’t particularly interested in making Scott laugh, but he does like to impress Scott. When Grian knows Scott’s watching, he really challenges himself. I think it’s because he, himself, is very impressed with Scott. Bdubs absolutely loves to make Scott laugh. You can see it in Scott’s escape room videos. He says so many silly things just to get a reaction out of Scott. You CANNOT tell me that “Bdubs, there’s something in this room that will allow you to swim up lava” “the bed” “no, think something you can drink” “the lava” was genuine. I’m completely sure that Bdubs knew Scott meant that there was a hidden fire res potion but just wanted to be silly. Skizz LOVES Scott’s laugh. He’s said it before. Skizz loves to make Scott laugh so much. He loves hearing Scott’s laugh. It’s so giddy and full and joyous.

Maybe I’m projecting a little bit. As a lesbian, you can’t believe how grateful I am that the only traits my mother has ever asked me to find in a partner is 1) someone you can trust and 2) someone who makes you laugh. She doesn’t ask for my partner to be rich or cisgender or a man or conventionally attractive or of a certain race or religion. That’s kind of what makes me love Smajor rarepairs so much. They respect and trust Scott, and they love to make him laugh.

[py6oto]

choice

waaarggg. posted this on youtube to celebrate 900 subs, hence the random gratitude message at the end ,, but it really goes to all of u here too . every bit of ur support matters :} i am very happy about it im just also very tired >o< hitting the pillows after posting this !

this was supposed to be longer and cooler but unfortunately for all of us, i am not that experienced nor will i ever escape the grapple of art block. i could not get anything right after the text box so i accepted defeat and gave what i had which i believe was the smart option

2024.31.01

[muirmarie]

tos mcspirk pre-relationship - thinking about mccoy having to beam down to go help save kirk's life, and he's informed right before he leaves that the planet kirk's currently bleeding out on (that is only allowing one doctor to beam down to) doesn't allow any adornments, so right before mccoy steps onto the transporter pad he takes his ring off (for the first time spock's ever seen) and he grabs spock's hand, and slides it onto his finger, and says, "hold onto this for me, will you?"

and spock doesn't generally fidget, but the entire time mccoy and kirk are gone he finds his fingers returning to the ring, and spinning it around his finger, and it's almost like a talisman, because mccoy never takes it off, so it's almost like it's a part of mccoy, and as long as spock can touch it then mccoy must be all right, and if mccoy is all right then spock knows - knows - that the good doctor will keep kirk alive, too.

and eventually the original landing party + bonus mccoy beam back up, and mccoy rushes kirk into surgery, and spock stays on the bridge handling the diplomatic fallout, twisting the ring around his finger again and again and again

and it's not until mccoy calls spock down to sickbay in time to see kirk's eyes slowly blink back open, alive and safe and out of danger, that spock realizes that mccoy still hasn't asked for the ring back. it's not, in fact, until kirk's eyes almost immediately are drawn to the ring, his eyebrows slightly raised, that spock realizes at all.

spock's finger feels surprisingly bare when he tugs the ring off - the metal warm from his skin - and presses it into the palm of mccoy's hand.

"thanks for keeping it safe," mccoy says, folding his fingers around it, his fingertips brushing spock's fingertips as spock slowly pulls his hand away.

spock raises an eyebrow, tilts his head towards the captain.

"i was about to say the same," he says.

"something you two want to tell me?" kirk asks, reaching out and tapping mccoy's fist, and the moment kirk touches it, mccoy's hand falls back open, like a flower uncurling.

"no rings planetside," mccoy says easily.

kirk's eyes are dark as he looks at him.

"you look naked without it," kirk says, his hand closing around mccoy's hand, ring and all, and tugging him a step closer to the hospital bed. "mind if i do the honors?"

and it's not until spock's gaze is locked on kirk's fingers deftly sliding the ring back where it belongs that spock finally understands the tightness that's been inhabiting his chest, this tightness that's been suffocating his lungs.

"looks good, doesn't it, spock?" kirk asks, something knowing in his eyes.

spock could stop himself from reaching out, if he wanted. he could stop himself from touching the ring, touching the hand, touching kirk's hand, too, where it's still holding mccoy's. he could stop himself, if he wanted.

he finds, as is so often the case with these two men, that he doesn't want to stop himself.

this time, he doesn't even try.

[skidmarkeater]

TrollsTober Day 12: Grey Troll

[aarontaylorjohnsonsdivorcelawyer]

library card ➵ valgrace university au

part 7 [masterlist]

[fraternum-momentum]

i think corrupted sydney would love nicki minaj send ask

fellow barbz where u at

[birdricks]

i love the stars (j'adore les etoiles)

[pines4thetwin]

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 Stan’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.

It’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 Mabel’s. Their focus splits, body jerking in an awkward aborted movement as Stan tries to move forward and Ford holds him back.

“Pumpkin grab that- Mabel don't-” And why can they never agree on anything. When did everything go so wrong? 

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. 

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.

“Press the green- Don't you dare-” 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.

[mewkwota]

That's better.

I don't know what happened last time, but my attempt at these two near each other even before that looked fine (probably because they were floating), but in the end I shouldn't think too hard about it.