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piningforstan · 5 months ago

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Talking in Your Sleep

Part One | Part Two

Summary: You start to suspect that there’s more to Stan than what he tells you, at least while he’s awake. Asleep is a different story.

Pairings: Stanley Pines x GN! Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Not really any? Let me know if I missed one

A/N: All Most of my oneshots are inspired by songs I guess😂 I’m thinking there might be 2 or 3 parts to this one

Stan lied.

To everyone.

Perhaps it was delusional to think that it didn’t apply to you. You, your reasoning was, were special. At the end of the day he crawled into bed next to you and pressed his cold toes to your calf, laughing as you squirmed away. You made grocery lists together and raided the aisles for food and supplies. It was you that he whispered his fears and hopes to.

So you thought nothing when he lied to the tourists, lied to the banks, lied to the man who “dropped” his wallet (Stan had pickpocketed it and you forced him to return it). You thought nothing when the lies bled into your daily life, domestic bliss disrupted with the occasional white lie. You told yourself: everyone does it.

It didn’t mean anything.

Right?

The room in the Shack that you stumbled upon on accident one day while looking for warmer blankets. “My brother’s room,” he told you. The brother, that you knew, was dead. You let it be, didn’t ask questions. But if it was his brother’s, why did all of the books say his name? Stanford Pines. Scrawled in margins and on the wall like a hasty addition. You didn’t have time to inspect it too closely, but the handwriting looked too neat to be Stan’s — tidy and cramped, unlike the sprawling letters you had seen him print on your paychecks.

STNLYMBLE his license plate read. It wasn’t his brother’s car, he affectionately retold stories of his time in the vehicle before. Maybe it was a tribute of some kind?

A million instances that accumulated in your mind like clutter in an attic, each one a box that you labeled and tucked away for later.

The first snow had just coated itself over Gravity Falls when the sleep talking started. You were roused awake by Stan twitching and muttering, the alarm clock blinking the time at you from the nightstand.

Too early. You rolled over, trying to grasp at the last remnants of your dream. It wasn’t much longer before he was muttering again, louder this time, hands clutching at the sheets and his face scrunching in unmistakable pain.

“Portal…help…” whatever disturbed his dreams made no sense to you here in the real world. You listened quietly. “I promise, Ma…I promise.”

Segments of promises and reassurances, bits of stories that you hadn’t heard before and couldn’t parse out yourself. It didn’t concern you at first, chalking it up to stress — about the Shack during the cold winter months, or maybe whatever work he did in the basement.

And then they became more specific. Unsettling.

“I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. An accident.” Sweat glistened on his forehead and wet the dark curls at his temples. The weirdest part is when he would whimper: “I’m sorry, Ford. I’m sorry. The portal…”

The portal, the portal, the portal — the one reoccurring connection to all of the sleep talking.

The dreams were worse during the holidays; Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years. It was sometime after the beginning of the new year and you were nestled into one another on the couch when you asked him, “What’s the portal?”

Stan kept his gaze on the TV but his body stiffened beneath you. “What?”

“The portal.”

“What’re you talkin’ about?”

You don’t know why, but you sensed that you’ve crossed a line, somehow, said something wrong. In an effort to lighten the mood, you injected a hint of humor in your voice, “You’ve been sleep talking lately and you keep mentioning a portal. Is it a bad dream or something?”

“Or something,” Stan coolly replied.

A beat passed between you, tension palpable. The TV flickered off. Stan untangled himself from you without a word and started up the stairs. You stumbled after him.

“Stan, what is going on?”

“Nothing,” he said, whirling on you, one hand braced on the rail. “I’m tired is all.”

You steeled yourself for an argument, aware of it approaching like a storm on the horizon. “For weeks — months — you’ve been having these awful dreams and talking about someone named Ford. And a portal.”

Sometimes you wake up in tears. Sometimes the pain in your voice is enough to make me nauseous. Sometimes you cry for forgiveness.

“S’probably nothin’.”

“Nothing? Stanford, I know something is wrong.”

You had both made it to the landing now, an old fashioned draw. Shadows thrown across his face, Stan possessed an unpredictable air, sharp and glinting like the blade of a knife in the dark. It slipped away just as quickly as the image had impressed upon you. Did you imagine it?

His features arranged into a semblance of shame, sheepish in nature. “I jus’ don’t wanna talk about it, alright? I’m sorry you had to deal with that. You ain’t gotta worry about me, doll.”

You wanted to press the matter. Wanted to know why he was being elusive and why his explanation rubbed you the wrong way.

But you didn’t.

A month or two passed. Spring lingered in the woods, melting snow and glimpses of greenery. You hadn’t mentioned the portal or the dreams again. Stan would go some nights without sleeping at all. You knew this only because you would wake up at night and roll over, expecting his warmth and finding the bed cold and empty.

“What are you doing in the basement?” You asked one day when you were feeling particularly brave. Stan was your kind-of boyfriend, after all, and you asserted to yourself that you had the right to know where he spent most of his time.

Stan, shoveling food in his mouth, shrugged and replied in a muffled tone, “Science stuff.”

He was off doing science stuff when you poked around the entirety of the Shack, searching for this alleged basement. How could there be no doors? You patrolled the perimeter of the building and spotted a cellar but it refused to budge. It unsettled you that couldn’t find an entry to the basement and hadn’t thought to even look before now.

“You wouldn’t want to see it, it’s boring,” he would tell you and you would believe him, his large hands roaming over your skin. “I can think of much more fun things to do up ‘ere.”

It worried at the back of your mind constantly, this idea that you were just another victim in Stan’s lies. Were you being dramatic?

The answer came to you in the dark of the night, moonlight spilling over the floor in silvery bars. Stan woke you as he staggered out of bed, muttering and bumping into the dresser that now hosted a mixture of your clothing. You sat up.

“Stan, honey? Where are you going?”

He never ceased his muttering to answer, persisting down the stairs in his sluggish manner. You grabbed a robe and threw it over yourself, following after him. After several more attempts to get his attention, you came to the conclusion that his sleep talking had now progressed into sleep walking. You knew you should’ve woken him but you curiously trailed behind, through the living room, the kitchen, and into the gift shop.

A blue glow from the vending machine washed over Stan as he ambled towards it, thick fingers pushing the buttons. Was he just hungry, sleepily venturing for a midnight snack? You wouldn’t put it past him. You reached out a hand, ready to rouse him from his trance, when a strange whirring emitted from the vending machine.

Shock rooted you in place as the machine didn’t release any food but rather swung open miraculously on its hinges, disclosing a corridor instead. Stan never even hesitated as he just continued on, broad shoulders and bedhead disappearing around the corner.

Rendered motionless for several moments, you finally decided to go after him. Where was he going? He could hurt himself.

You shuffled into the corridor. An uneasy feeling descended upon you like the legs of a spider, brushing against every inch of your skin. The chill cutting through your robe told you that you were being led further under ground, finally emptying into an enormous room.

And it wasn’t even the size of the room that surprised you, but rather the gigantic metal contraption crouched to one side. From what you could tell it wasn’t working. A huge, darkened eye stared at you from the middle of the rafters.

A window?

A portal.

Stan had ceased his dreamlike ambling to stand before this machine, gazing up at it like it might offer him some kind of absolution.

Your voice, small and afraid: “Stan?”

The trance broke, a taut rubber-band snapped in the way that his shoulders rounded and he glanced around in confusion. You could only imagine the look on your face as he turned to you.

Your name left his mouth, panicked. “What are you doing here?”

“Stan, what is that? Where are we?” Hysteria gripped you. “What’s going on?”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Stan replied.

“Did you…did you make this? What is this?”

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let’s go upstairs. I can explain all this. A’right?”

“No, Stan, I’m tired of all of the lies and the sneaking around. I’m staying here. And you’re going to tell me what’s going on.”

A defeated expression crossed his face. He went over to a panel of controls and leaned against it, hip and elbow. “Ya know I would never hurt ya on purpose, doll. I-I care about you.”

You wanted to soften. But you held yourself strong, heart fracturing. “Stan?”

“I guess I don’t know where to start.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, then slowly began to unravel the story that you had pieced together over the time. Except, this time, details were changed— the truth, you realized, not the altered version he had given you.

Everything you thought you knew about this man, this man that you loved, disappeared and took on a new form. The childhood in New Jersey accompanied by a twin brother. His years as a drifter a result of his father kicking him out, not a pursuit of freedom and independence. Even the Mystery Shack, his name, wasn’t his.

Stanley Pines, he said.

Stanley. Not Stanford.

And his brother wasn’t dead but lost in time, and he was trying valiantly to find him again.

“All of this, all of the lies…are for him. It’s my fault that he’s gone and I need to fix my mistake.” Stan’s voice had taken on a strained edge, on the verge of tears. “I’ve made so many but this one…this one I’m close to fixing.”

“You come down here to work on a…portal,” you said, not sure what else to say.

“It’s the only way.” Stan took a step towards you, then thought better of it. “I-I didn’t wanna lie. But I had no idea how much you would mean to me. It was one lie an’ then another and I couldn’t take any of ‘em back. Not without you lookin’ at me like how you are now.”

“I trusted you,” you breathed.

“I’m still me.” He flinched. “Well, kinda. Besides the name and everything. That hasn’t changed. The way I feel about you hasn’t changed.”

“What do you mean? Everything has changed,” you snapped, “Everything I know about you is a lie! I don’t even know what to think right now.” You shook your head as if to dislodge the torrent of thoughts. “You led me to believe that you were someone else. That your brother — who is actually you? — died. I grieved him with you, Stan. And you just lied to me again and again like it was nothing. How do I know I can trust you?”

“I’m tellin’ you, I didn’t want —”

“To lie? But lying is what you do best. It’s all clear to me now. I-I can’t do this. I need air.”

Your feet carried you without permission, away from the strange basement and the portal and Stan. Stanley. Not Stanford. You heard his heavy footsteps as he chased after you, one hand on your shoulder and spinning you to face him.

“Don’t go. Please. I can make this right.”

“No, you can’t.” You fought back tears as you looked at him, so heartbreakingly handsome and wounded and earnest. “I can’t be with someone who I don’t even know. Everything about us has been built on lies.”

He didn’t try and stop you as you stepped out of his grip and back into the gift shop, nor did he follow you. You shoved out onto the porch and into the greying, mushy snow, gathered in piles in the corners of the forest. You didn’t know where you were going, but you couldn’t be here.

#gravity falls #stanley pines #fanfic #writers on tumblr #writing #stanley pines x reader #grunkle stan #mullet stan #stan pines x you #stanley pines x you #stanley pines oneshot #stan pines x reader #stan pines

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bubbles077 · 3 months ago

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Welcome to the barn/ Intropost

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-Fandoms-

Bsd, Percy jackson, Owl house, MCYT, TADC, Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss, Carmen Sandigo, Yalokra, hello kitty, Gravity Falls, Omori, Sally Face, Animal Crossing, Dead Plate, Epic the musical, Lacy Games, My little pony, ruby gloom, Vocliod, FNAF, Bad parenting, OBX, Heartstopper, Amphibia,Class 09, Flamingo, LaurenZside, Minecraft, Muder Drones, Good Omens, Wicked, MHA, Spy x family, Sk8, Stranger Things, DDLC, Gliter Force, Sailor moon, studio giblie, Over the graden wall, Advnture time, Creepy pasta, Mouthwasing, Bluey, Ever After High, Arcane, Yuri on Ice, Case Study of Vanitos, the outsiders, Lackadaisy

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Reading/wrighting Marine Biology, Art, History, Plants, Greek Mythology, Culture, fashion, media, and many other things

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This blog is for me too ramble about my life, share my art, my writing, my ocs, make friends, and reblogs.

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#introduction #blog intro #pinned post #intro post #introductory post #Spotify #pinned intro #farmers daughter

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e1ectricwords · 28 days ago

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Through Thought and Chaos

Gray x Reader Soulmate AU Word Count: 4168 Fluff, implied inneundos, rescue mission

Steady Drip. Cold Water.

The noise was starting to drive you insane. Forming slowly from a stalacite overhead, clinging onto the point before succumbing to gravity, falling into the small pool of water below. It fell with a small plink, sending ripples through puddle. The rhythmatic continuation drilled itself into your brain. Each droplet sounded like a hammer to your head. You had tried to stop it once, sticking your boot under the trajectory of the divers. It was a futile attempt. The sound continued, this time with a much more hollow tone as it hit the side of the leather material, and the icy water had seeped through almost instantly, numbing your toes. You had pulled back with a hiss of discomfort and pulled your legs up to your chest, seeking to preserve any remaining heat you had left. Your lips moved with the droplets, meekly mumbling a 'plink' each time they hit the water. Every breath exhaled as a faint mist, dispersing into the heavy air. Your only light source was a very weak, flickering glow from the torches situatied outside your cell, the bars of your cell would glow as if taunting you. Everything blended into a symphony of discomfort, the chill, the maddening drip of water, the uneven surface of your cell poking you no matter what angle you sat at, and now your damp boots. How on earth did you ever end up in a place like this?

It was naive to assume you could do this alone, you realised that now, and as slowly as the drip fell, you were starting to realise that rules were in place for a reason. After the incident with Macao in the mountain, Makarov had implemented a strict rule that no one was allowed to leave on jobs without the accompaniment of at least one other person. The only exception pointed to the S-Class wizards who were permitted solo pursuits. The rule had been pinned to the job request board. Impossible to miss, possible to ignore. You had taken it upon yourself to exempt yourself from this rule, despite not going through any proper trials to become S-Class, in that moment you had deemed yourself on the same level, and had left without bothering to tell anyone where you were going. You had planned to just be gone for a day or two, the possibility of a dark guild being involved hadn't even crossed your mind.

The hours dragged painfully on, each one hazing into the next. With no sight of any sunlight, you couldn't even tell what time it was, or how long you had been kept in the cell. The members of the guild barely acknowledged you. It was confusing. You were expecting taunts, heckles, something laced with malice, but all they did would pass by to slide meagre plates of food to you, and to point at the puddle in the cell when you asked for some water. The purpose of your capture was still unknown. You had no idea if it was a hostage situation or if you were about to become a sacrificial lamb. The cold, hard truth was that you had no real solution to getting out of this cell. The shackles around your wrists prevented you from using magic and there was no way you could just strongarm your way out through the front. With no real useful ideas, you began to fill your head with useless ones instead. How does Gajeel not break his teeth on iron? I bet he could just eat his way out of this cell. You let out a soft snort at the visuals that followed. I hope I can shower again before I die. You grimaced at the thought of being found dead and smelly. Then, the forbidden final thought slipped in; Gray is pretty hot, I guess.

"You think I'm hot?"

Your eyes snapped open, heart pounding, you whipped your head around in the dark cell to try and locate the source of the voice but your search revealed nothing. Your breath hitched in your throat and you shuffled slightly on the ground, finding new angles to be poked from. The chill suddenly felt much sharper.

"Gray?" You questioned aloud, voice shaky and uncertain.

"Yeah, who else? You think I'm hot?"

You let out a shaky laugh, moreso in disbelief at yourself than amusement. Shaking your head slightly you muttered, "that water must've made me sick. I'm going insane in my final moments...great."

"Final moments? Where are you?" The voice was distinctly Gray's. Smooth and oddly comforting in the moment. You searched the cell some more, eyes tracing along the moss-covered walls, but the voice was still coming distinctively from within you. 'He' was insistent and steady, containing a level of concern that you hadn't encountered from 'him' before.

"Oh, and now I'm in denial. Fantasic." Your response was dry and drawn out. Rolling your eyes you added, "I'm going to die in here, me, just let it happen."

"Look, I don't know how I can hear you either but I'm not part of your conscience," he pressed. "Now where are you, dummy?"

You blinked slowly. The entire situation was absurd. It made your frustration bubble and boil. "In a cell," you gestured, shackles rattling as you made over the top movements. Might as well embrace the madness if it has come for you this early.

There was an audible sigh. Exasperated. "Well I know you're real because no one else can be this dense. Where did you go?"

"Cave."

"You are insufferable. What did you do to end up there?"

Brows furrowing together you mused over why the voice was asking you this question. It should know if it came from your head. Engaging in the question, if not to just enjoy some conversation with some aspect of yourself that may or may not liked Gray, you started to answer, "I went on a job alone. The job that was there for a few days."

"The one that was posted right next to the new rule? I know the one."

Your jaw clenched in frustration. "Don't get sarcastic with me," you snapped, tone sharp. "If you are real how the hell are you even speaking to me right now or did you plant some weird telepathy device on me you freaky little pervert?"

"Yeah because if I had something like that you're totally the first person I'd plant it on." Another sigh. "I already told you that I don't know how I can hear you, I just can." His tone softened slightly, "stay put. I'll come get you."

"As if I can go anywhere," you muttered in response, resting your head on the uneven wall behind you, jagged rock pressing into your scalp. The torchlight flickered faintly in the corner of your eye, the shadows on the walls dancing mockingly as if to remind you how utterly trapped you were.

"Or I'll just stay here I guess. I'm nice and comfortable."

"If I ever see you again, you're getting decked, Fullbuster."

He didn't humour you with any sort of response to your promise, "where did that job say to go?"

"Gazania," you responded bluntly, the irritation clear in your tone. You strain to recall the details of the job poster. "Six-thousand Jewel," you manage to add. The damp chill of the cell hinders the ability to think, the steady drip from the stalacite pin-pricking every single memory you try to recall.

"Of course you remember the money," the voice belonging to 'Gray' chimed in with a slight laugh.

You were quick to cut him off, "I mean it, Fullbuster. If I ever see you again then you're getting decked." The sharpness in your voice softened as you exhaled. "I think the job was requested by a...Mr Flynn?"

"Got it," the voice replied with a confidence. It carried a smirk. "Mr Flynn in Gazania. Sit tight, and don't worry your pretty little head about it."

"You are actually insufferable," you shot back.

The voice disapeared, leaving you alone once again in the oppressive quiet of the cave. It was a suffocating fog, only pierced by the drip of the water. The torches outside of your cell flickered weakly as they struggled to survive. Shadows danced on the walls outside, stretching and shrinking in an uneven sinister manner. You shuffled closer to the bars of your cell door, shackles clinking with every movement , and peered outside and into the hallway. The cell itself had been crudely built into the basement of what seemed to be a very old house. From where you could see, the bricks that made up the old basement were cracked and crumbling in places. Dust fell from the ceiling outside of your cell, trickling down to the stone floor. The house was unloved, and it groaned for every tiny piece of itself that it lost.

There was no sign of any other prisoner or hostage. As you strained to see as far down the hallway as possible, you never once heard another cough, another shuffle, another sniff. It was silent, bar the steady plink of that goddamn water. With a sigh, you retreated back into the corner of your cave, quietly resigning yourself to the thought that the voice was the first sign of madness, and no one was coming for you.

________________________________________________________________________________

"So, essentially," Erza began, crossing her arms as she frowned. Her gaze pierced Gray as she scrutinised his word, looking down at him from where she stood.. "You heard a voice that sounded like Y/N, telling you that they had been kidnapped and you're going to save them based on that alone?"

Gray leaned back in his hair, classically topless. "That's exactly what I said." He was ironically playing with fire standing up to Erza.

Lucy let out a tired groan from beside them both, slumped over her own arms on the table. She didn't even lift her head as she mumbled under her breath, "the ice is freezing your braincells."

He ignored her. "We haven't actually seen them in five days," he pointed out.

Erza considered his words but tried to find a logical reasoning, "what if they're just sick?" She paused slightly, "they could be resting at home. Perhaps we should send over some cake."

"They went out on a job," he bluntly stated as if that statement alone should end the discussion. He stood up from his chair, meeting Erza's eyes.

"But the new rules state that no one is to go out on a job alone," Erza countered, trying to find a more logical reasoning as to why one member of their guild hadn't been seen in five days.

"When does anybody in this guild follow rules?" Gray retorted, raising his voice ever so slightly.

Lucy meekly chimed in, "he has a point." She raised her hand ever so slightly before letting it fall to the wooden surface with a soft thud. "Natsu destroyed two buildings only a day ago, Erza."

Erza's lips pressed into a thin line, "even so how do we trust this voice? How do we know it's not just a telepathic device implemented by someone trying to get ahold of Fairy Tail members?"

"If that's the case then they can take me hostage, I'm going to find Y/N." Gray stormed towards the heavy entry doors of the guild. "I'll even do it alone." The doors slammed behind him, drowning the rest of the hall in silence for a few seconds before the steady hum of chatter washed back in.

"Should we go after him?" Lucy asked, pulling herself upright to exchange a long and weary glance with Erza.

Erza remained quiet for a few seconds, moving her head back to stare at the doors. "We'll do the sensible thing and go check on their residence first...and prepare a cake just in case." Erza looked around, her crimson hair flowing down her back, "where have we lost Natsu?"

"The home intruder duo invaded my apartment last night, and they're still there."

Erza nodded with a sense of knowing. "Let's get going then."

________________________________________________________________________________

You awoke with a jolt. It wasn't a peaceful slumber by any means, nor was it a willing one. Constantly shivering and enduring the neverending drip, you had just intended to doze off to pass the time, but as the grim world you find yourself in greets your eyes, you see that it was just to delay the inevitable. A guild member stood at the cell door, blocking any of the weak light from entering, and casting a long shadow into your cave cell. No food. He was here for a different reason. A sinister grin plastered to his face. You decide not to say anything, as much as you want to clap back with witty remarks, you keep your lips strictly sealed.

"It's time," are the only words that leave his mouth, low and gutteral.

You could only assume that this was for your purpose of being captured. Cursing that stupid job flyer, and wishing you had never made your way to Mr Flynn, your brain and mouth disconnected. "No."

The dark guild member frowned, eyes growing dark, and his grin fell. They took one step closer towards the door, holding a set of keys in one hand. "You don't get a choice."

"No," you repeated again. Absolutely defenseless with no way to fight back, this was up there with one of the stupidest things you had ever done, but, by some miracle, the absurdity of your defiance had stopped the member from whisking you away as quickly as was intended.

"Are you dumb?" They questioned, shoving the correct key in the cell door. It jingled and clunked as he gripped it between thick fingers.

"Possibly," you responded quickly.

"They are," a new, very familiar, voice added. The addition of the voice caused the member to whip around on high defence, letting go of the key in the process. It hung from the lock procariaously.

The dark guild member wasted no time lunging at Gray with a startling speed, acting on instinct and fuelled by adrenaline at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. Gray's eyes widened at the sudden movement, but he quickly sidestepped the man's trajectory. Boots scraping across the rough surface of the stone floor, the attacker pivoted harshly, directing another fist at Gray. Taking a few steps back and reacting swiftly, Gray summoned a shield of ice, just in time to intercept the blow. As flesh met ice, a sharp crack reverberated throughout the hallway. The guild member pulled away, hissing in pain as frostbite crept across his bleeding knuckles.

With a growl, the member dropped low, aiming another attack at Gray's stomach. Gray went high, bringing his elbow down on the man's back with a practiced precision, sending him sprawling onto the ground.

Groaning and twitching, he attempted to lift himself up, but he wasn't given any such chance. In the blink of an eye, Gray had encased the attacker in a ball of ice, allowing only his head to remain untouched. Impressed with himself, and believing that you should be too, Gray turned to your cell. Stepping up towards the door, he gripped the bars and leaned in, leaving the key in the lock as if he had all the time in the world.

"So...you think I'm hot, huh?" He asked, voice low with amusement, with a dastardly cocky smirk creeping up his stupid face.

Prick.

"Who are you calling a prick?" He exclaimed, stepping back from the cell door, plucking the keys from the door. "I just saved you from a ritual sacrifice."

"I never called you a prick!" You yelled back, frustration evident in your voice.

"Well, I heard you call me a prick," he spun the keys around one finger as he leaned against the corridor wall directly opposite your cell door. The dim light flickered over his obviously shirtless chest.

You sighed, not wanting to get into any argument with him at the current moment, choosing to steer the interaction back into something productive. "have you done anything about the rest of the guild?"

He smirked again at the thought of you doubting him. As if on cue, Erza's unmistakable voice called down from the top of the stairs as a body toppled down into the basement. It landed with a groan. "That's the last of them! Have you found Y/N?"

"I follow the rules," Gray whispered only loud enough for you to hear, clearly enjoying himself at your expense. He turned his head, calling back up the stairs to Erza, "I have them, they're fine!" He stepped forward again, sliding the key back into the lock. The metal groaned in frustration as he turned the key to open the door. His smile softened ever so slightly as he looked over your unfortunate form, "come on, dumbass."

Boots crunching on the soft ground of the cave, you shuffled over to him as he held a second key upright. The key to your shackles. Presenting your wrists to him, he slid the second key into that lock. The shackles clicked and fell to the ground. Bruises painted your wrists but the second that the shackles were free from your arms, you felt magic seep back into you like a breath of fresh air. You took a deep breath and rubbed your wrists slightly.

Gray hesitated, before tentatively reaching up. Cupping one of your hands in his he gently rubbed the bruises lightly. "Five days, huh?" He murmured, voice low.

"You can imagine how wiping went," you quipped softly, unable to resist injecting sarcasm even into the sweet moment.

His lips quirked up into a grin as he responded ever so casually, "still find you hot."

A frown formed on your face, and you blinked through the confusion, "huh?" But before you could process that sentence, the promise you made earlier crashed into your head. Lifting up a weak fist, you sent it into his shoulder.

Gray groaned, stepping back slightly and massaging his shoulder. "I call you hot and you punch me?"

"I promised it to you earlier!"

He paused, recalling the past telepathic conversation. "Fine. Okay, you did."

The two of you go silent for a brief moment, unable to really process Gray's confession. "So, how did you hear me earlier?" You ask, adding something in to at least attempt to ease the tension.

Gray rubbed the back of his neck slightly, "no idea. We'll ask Gramps when we get back." He moved closer, snaking one arm around your waist for support. Falling into place, you draped one of your arms over his shoulder and together you moved slowly through the dimly lit corridor, boots scuffing on the steps as you made your way towards sunlight.

________________________________________________________________________________

The moment of reckoning had arrived. Barely a step into the guildhall, and you had been summoned by the master. The stern look in his eye made it painfully obvious that this was not going to be any form of appraisal. Closing the door softly, you slowly slid into the seat opposite the master.

"Hey, Gramps," you offered weakly. It wasn't a long journey back to Magnolia and so your bruises still throbbed with a fresh memory.

The master's gaze was sharp, and it cut through any excuse you had prepared. He didn't waste any time on checking how you were, he could tell from the state of you already, and as long as you were alive and breathing, you were well enough to receive a firm talking to. "Repeat to me the newly implemented rule of this guild."

"That no one, bar the exception of S-Class mages, are to undertake any job alone." You swallowed hard.

"If it's that ingrained into your head then why did you go alone?" His accusatory words hung heavy in the air.

Dropping your gaze to the floor, you hung your head in shame. "I thought I could handle it, I have before." It was a weak answer, given from a weak voice.

"But even if you have handled a hundred jobs before, something can always go wrong." He softened slightly, the pronounced wrinkles in his head fading as he sighed and leaned back in his chair. "You didn't account for the dark guild. I'm just thankful that you at least told someone where you were going." He rubbed his temples. "I don't know what I would do if I lost one of you," he muttered, almost to himself.

You kept your mouth shut, not wanting to let Gramps know that you did not in fact tell anyone where you were going. Drawing your lips into a thin line, you mused over your next choice in words, desperate to change the topic of conversation. "Can I ask you about a type of magic?"

He grumbled incoherently under his breath before muttering, "yes. Go on then."

"A type of telepathy, I think. When Gray-" you paused over your next few words, how to phrase them to stick to the story that he had woven himself that you had at least told someone before leaving. "When Gray came for me, we were able to talk telepathically. We've never done that before."

He raised an eyebrow at your statement. "And this has only happened between you two?" You nodded in response. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but he was quick to hide it. "It's a very rare form of magic, and so rare that people even call it a myth." Jumping down from his perch, he found an old dusty book from his shelf, handing it over to you. "Here. You can read this whilst you recover." You briefly glanced down at the dusty book before looking back up at the master but he was already waving a dismissive hand at you. "Now go. And don't make me regret not scolding you harder."

Holding the book with all the strength you could muster, you hobbled out of his office, legs stiff with every step. Gray was waiting outside for you, leaning against a wall but he quickly straightened as soon as you emerged and quickly falling into stride beside you as you made your way to an empty table.

"So how hard did Gramps wail on you?"

You pointed your head down to the bruises on your arms. "Fresh from Gramps," you joked.

"You're joking."

"Of course I am, idiot," you responded, rolling your eyes. You let the hefty book fall onto the table with a thump. "He gave me this though."

He slid across from you into an empty chair. "A book?"

The pages crinkled and groaned in protest as you slowly opened the book, releasing a small cloud of dust. "You're such a genius," you exclaimed in a monochromatic tone.

"Prick."

"Who are you calling a prick?" You exclaimed, frowning at him.

"It's just happening again," he sighed, "you're just hearing my thoughts."

You arched an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Your thoughts are mean to me."

"And your thoughts think I'm hot," he teased lightly. "What else do you think about I wonder."

You kicked him from under the table and chose to ignore his question, instead looking down at the title of the front page. Magics of the Soulmate. Your stomach churned at the implication and you fell silent. Without saying another word, you spun the book around and slid it across the table towards Gray.

"Soulmates?" He exclaimed. The surprise fully took him before he dropped his voice into a low hush. "Gramps thinks we're soulmates?" You attempted to open your mouth to answer but no words escaped. Gray ignored you and dropped his head down to read further, "Only in dire situations or moments where thoughts are really felt that they are then projected onto one's soulmate, if that individual has one." He stopped reading and looked up, smirk creeping across his face. You knew what was coming. "So you really think I'm hot, huh?"

You kick him again out of desperation, harder this time. "Shut up!" You whisper harshly, face flushing out of your control. "So what does this mean? You suddenly start loving me?"

"Well you are kinda hot," he shrugged a little. He then grew serious and leaned back in his chair, lazily flicking through the pages of the book. "This doesn't have any answers, it just kinda says what we experienced. It's all just vague."

Growing silent once more, you muse over the implications. There was one thing that you forget during the whole ordeal. Looking up, and into his eyes. They had grown softer, fully living in the seriousness of the situation. You softly speak; "thank you for saving me earlier."

Gray reaches out, thumb brushing over the back of your hand. The ironic warmth of his touch caused the hairs on the back of your neck to rise. His voice was low and steady as he spoke, just for you "Anytime."

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ghostermctoaster · 7 months ago

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Ciao!

So, uh, welcome to my blog! There’s honestly not much going on here. I draw and write and I get lucky if even get ten notes on my posts because I really only post my ocs :’)

ANYWAY.

If you see two (maybe more??) goofy goobers tromping around in here, the little gay Greek/Italian dude with silver hair is Alex and the bisexual Colombian blond is Alystyr.

These are my two original ocs that I’ve grown and developed since I was REALLY young. Like- these bitches old as FUCK.

*ahem*

~~~

ABOUT ME:

I’m asexual!! (She/He/They)

Boys 🫶🫶

I’m Italian/Irish (I’m a fucking redhead BURN ME *SOBBING*)

I’m the oldest of 4 children, I’m super grungy, but like also kinda chill??? 😭

ADHD/autistic

Punk.

~~~

I’ve read all of the following: The Hunger Games, Diverent, I’ll Give You the Sun, Wings of Fire, Harry Potter (didn’t like that one-), The Chronicles of Narnia, Vampire Academy, Twilight, Crave, ALL Riordan books doing with mythology (PJO, HOO, TOA, KC, and MCATGOA)

My favorite shows: Voltron: Legendary Defender, Gravity Falls, The Owl House, Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, The Dragon Prince, Stranger Things, Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Wanda-Vision, Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss, Heartstopper, Percy Jackson, a lot more but I’m tired and can’t remember

MOVIES!: Cruella, Do Revenge, Luca, ALL MARVEL (well- no. Not all of it, but most), The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2023), Mean Girls, The Greatest Showman, Onward, Turning Red, The Bad Guys, and there’s more, but again, I tired

Video games: Hades, Hades II, Minecraft, FNAF (all games), Assassin’s Creed: Odyssey, Mario Brother’s franchise (because I have a little sister who forces me to play-), Dead Plate, Married in Red, Mouthwashing, anddd…that might be it

Bands/Artists I like/love: My Chemical Romance, OneRepublic, Shawn Mendes, 5 Seconds of Summer, Olivia Rodrigo, Sia, Lauv, Imagine Dragons (FUCKING SUE ME), Halestorm, Lady Gaga, Maroon 5, Lil Nas X, twenty one pilots, Cavetown, Coldplay, AJR, P!nk, Vance Joy, Halsey, Melanie Martinez, Mad Tsai, Paramore, Jake Webber, Magnolia Park, Jelly Roll, Benson Boone, Chappell Roan, Queen, Bruno Mars, Jorge Rivera-Herrans, and more!

~~~

Uhhh…hmm..well, I really like Monster, my favorite is Mango Loco. I consider myself to be friendly, I’ll talk to anyone so long as you respect me and boundaries and whatnot. I’m an ambivert so if I seem like I’m being shy, I just think you’re really cool and I don’t wanna fuck up making a potential new friend. If I talk to you like we’re already friends instantly, go get checked for autism /JJJJ

Anyway! All likes and reposts are so, SO appreciated and I cherish them all. Thanks for getting to know me! Feel free to DM or crash in the ask box.

PEACE AND CHICKEN GREASE 😘

#artists on tumblr #my ocs <3 #my ocs #asexual #alex!#gay #alexstyr #ghost!#I am ghost #Ask ghost!#srsly tho #I love making friends 😭#Fandom life #im so tired RARARAR #alystyr!

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luciel-anciel · 3 months ago

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☕ Writing Commissions ☕

Give me an idea or a prompt and I'll turn it into a story!

I'll also be offering free three hundred (300) words to the first five clients! (0/5)

How to contact me?

Feel free to message me on Tumblr, Facebook! And my discord is lucian_achoo

=======================

PRICING 📚

(Gcash & PayPal)

250 words - 4 USD

600 words - 6 USD

800 words - 8 USD

900 words - 10 USD

1,300 words - 15 USD

2,300 words - 20 USD

3,300 words - 30 USD

=======================

I'm comfortable writing both fan-fiction for fandoms or original fiction about your original characters too! Including Self Inserts, X Reader (Y/n) !

The themes, genres & sub genres I am most familiar with writing are; 📒

-CanonxCanon, OCxOc, and OCxCanon

-Platonic or Romantic Relationship

-LGBTQIA+ (Queer) Relationships

-Romance with angst

-Dead Dove (+ Messed up scenarios)

-Unhealthy and Toxic relationships

-Cannibalism and Gore

-Mature and Dark themes.

-Slight NSFW

The following is an incomplete list of fandoms I'm familiar enough to write fan-fiction for: 📒

(Though feel free to message me to ask if I'm familiar with other show, game, book series or etc)

-Eddsworld

-Miraculous Ladybug

-Creepypasta

-Lego Monkie Kid

-Dead Plate

-Elevator Hitch

-Cold Front

-Married In Red

-Eloquent Countenance

-Rot in Paradise

-Gravity Falls

-Mouthwashing

-Cuphead

================

Links to my work & social 📑📒

A03

Wattpad

Masterlist

Facebook

================

-Depending in how much you want me to write, it'll take 1-2 weeks. ( 3 weeks if it's around 3kwords)

-Half or full Payment, before I start writing said piece

-Scene revisions or rewrites are free for the first three (3), though I'd ask you to be clear and heavily specific with what you want me to rewrite so I can bring you the desired product.

-No Refunds, once approved or finished.(Though if I am unable to finish the piece then I'll refund the money)

-I am allowed to turn down a request if I'm unable to do it, but hopefully we can make a compromise.

-Commercial use shall be negotiated. Please credit me for the writing.

-Adding smut or anything sexual, like intercourse, penetration will be double the price.

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freakyblud · 2 months ago

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Meet the user :)

I really need one of those lmao so here- Hi !! Welcome to my blog <3 My name's Leo and I use any pronouns. I have multiple other blogs, including three rp blogs (Yomiel from Ghost Trick, Cabanela from Ghost Trick and Neil Perry from Dead Poets Society) and a Your fave is a ___ blog!! I am french canadian, so feel free to talk to me in french too!

LIST OF THINGS I LIKE (The things I post about will be highlighted):

shows/movies i like: dead poets society, girl interrupted, house md, reanimator, rottmnt, the black phone, jojo's bizarre adventures, bungou stray dogs, monster high, camp camp, good girls guide to murder (still havent read the books), Shameless, The Walking dead, Stars Align, Given, The Owl House, Amphibia, Gravity Falls, Tangled The Series and Vat7k, She-ra, Nimona, Mob Psycho 100, Heartstopper, Tokyo Revengers, Saiki K, It, Maze Runner, monster high, ever after high (kinda), assassination classroom, hunter x hunter, death note, Voltron, Howl's Moving Castle, LOST, most Tim Burton movies, Ghostbusters, SPIDERMAN SPIDERMAN SPIDERMANNN, Moral Orel, perks of being a wallflower, but I'm a cheerleader, wonder egg priority, ghost stories, south park, that one hello kitty anime (cant remember the name and i cant find it online :( ), white oleander, ouran high school host club, sk8, promised neverland, death note, ten reasons i hate you (i think its the name help me), tokyo revengers, black swan, the craft, arcane books: the giver (movie too), percy jackson (show too, not the movies though), jekyll and hyde, song of achilles, no longer human music artists: will wood, the cure, the smiths, system of a down, al yankovic, miku, kate bush, fleetwood mac, lemon demon, Queens, David Bowie, mac demarco, arctic monkeys, tv girl, neighbourhood games: mouthwashing, dead plate, cold front, omori, fnaf, undertale, ddlc, batim (only the first one sigh), Ghost Trick, little Misfortune, ANY ANGELA HE GAMES, Don't starve, What Remains of Edith Finch, The Quarry musicals: EPIC, heathers, jekyll and hyde, hamilton, ride the cyclone, Matilda, SIX, Mean girls, Percy Jackson, Sweeney Todd webcomics: School Bus Graveyard, Jackson's Diary, Ghost Eyes, The Glass Scientists, Heartstopper, Cupido, Kai, Our Walk Home, Jamie, It's kind of a funny story

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vixnovacoda · 6 months ago

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How The Pine Trees Fall || Chapter 1

Ford Pines x OC (Post-finale)

Word count: 1.6k

[AO3 version here]

Transcript of recorded statement 10.1: > A forest should be a haven. But, here in Gravity Falls, Oregon, there’s a spot where all is dead and your paranoia licks at your neck. Through the typical person’s eye, it would be believable to assume nothing inhabits this strange corner in what is already a strange town…

This was it. The sun was setting, and this was it.

Lorelai was sure of it.

This was the sort of instinct her peers would chastise her for. ‘Science isn’t founded by the reflux in your gut,’ they would probably say. But, she had never been wrong before and why would today be any different? She’d prove them all wrong. Lorelai held the tape recorder steady, the whirring of tape mixing with the forest’s empty silence echoing like an orchestral backing track for her recording.

> But I believe this place may be the key to discovering entities beyond our comprehension.

So far the forest was nothing but tree after tree for a thousand paces. A thousand. Paces. A thousand since leaving her old sailor of a car. A thousand under the beating sun. A thousand since she hit record. But, it was only ten when the hairs on her body stood on edge and the notches in the trees looked more and more like eyeballs that followed her every move. A part of the Gravity Falls forest that defied all understanding. It was the way the ginormous trees stood as still as sticks in the lofty breeze, the chill that hit her like a ton of bricks the instant she stepped foot in this quadrant, and how silence permeated all things that even the leaves being crushed beneath Lorelai’s boots were quieter than a breath. If you dropped a pin here the whole thing might just collapse.

“BOOP!” Out of nowhere, a high-pitched voice reverberated within the area, sending Lorelai jumping out of her skin. Heart pounding and half expecting something to happen, she whipped her head around in all directions before landing her sights across the way from her and on a young girl that could have been no older than eleven or twelve with a sweater so colourful that it made the forest look like a graveyard – which was a less unlikely theory by the minute.

“Hello tree that looks like a face!” joyfully exclaimed the girl, waving to a tree… that actually kind of did look like a face. Lorelai wished she had seen stranger sights than a child hopping and skipping and greeting every little thing unphased in a place that made her skin crawl, but it was quickly becoming one of her top moments.

“Mabel, come on, we’re supposed to be taking this seriously,” groaned a boy that walked out from the clearing who looked almost identical to the girl, right down to the mousy brown hair that he covered with a cap. Fraternal twins, probably. Siblings, definitely.

“But, Dipper, I am being serious,” debated the girl, Mabel, putting her hands on her hips in a mocking manner.

Dipper sighed.

Mabel giggled.

“Let’s just focus, please.”

“Aye, aye, captain!—” suddenly the young girl yelped, stopping short from a fall into a hole whose size Lorelai couldn’t predict, but it must have been big for Mabel’s eyes to turn into dinner plates. “Whoa, that was close.”

Dipper closed the book in his hand. “This is what I’m talking about. If you had fallen in that hole, how am I supposed to explain that?”

“We got ambushed by a bunch of gnomes?”

A groan, deep and depleted. He mumbled something under his breath and went back to moving on ahead, a string of red yarn following behind them as it was attached to the pair of them.

Lorelai tilted her head quizzically as she watched on. She noted how they were both unfazed by all that was around them, how the girl waved and greeted everything they walked past, and how no one else seemed to be nearby. They were in the middle of nowhere. The town of Gravity Falls was miles off and Lorelai should’ve been more concerned, but she shrugged it off. Their parents were probably not that far off, and there were other matters that warranted getting back to, like her work.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” she told herself.

Now that she thought about it, a lot actually.

“Maybe…” No. No. This, her magnum opus, came first.

> Note to future self, cut the last five minutes.

Now it was her turn to sigh. This was going to be hell to edit and transcribe later. Continuing on her straight path and adjusting her glasses, she kept her head down, fussing with the oversized fit of her brown corduroy jacket against the sudden oncoming breeze that seemed to chastise her decision. But she wasn’t so easily swayed by weather (the snow storm in the Alps learnt that the hard way).

Superstitions and omens, on the other hand. She’d rather play with caution.

> Gravity Falls is the epicentre of all things unbelievable, strange and mysterious. Many things lurk here, hiding in the shadows or in the plain light of day like a gust that pushes you around with the strength of a human being. The question you have to ask yourself is how many are there, what are they, and, most importantly, what are their intentions?

So a compromise – she had to walk past them anyway – she’d keep an eye on them until they were out of sight. Lorelai could do that. They’ll be safe and out of mind, her worries will be gone, and she can finish what she came to do. She just had to keep walking and minding her own business.

Just keep walking.

Stepping out into eyesight, Lorelai carefully stepped over the laxened bit of yarn and gave a curt, passing by wave with a small smile fixed onto her face. The shine of the sun almost blinding her from where she stood at the other end of the clearing.

> Good?

Mabel was the first to wave back. In fact, she was the only one to reciprocate Lorelai’s attempt at friendliness. Dipper just squinted. Quick to pull on his – possible – sister’s arm.

> Bad?

Cellophane wings crunched and snapped. Lorelai lifted her foot. The remnants of a little critter broken beyond repair; a dead butterfly. She winced at the possible effect this small action might have on her possible future timeline, but quickly forgoed any ideas as a splitting sensation rendered her head in agony, stopping her in her tracks.

> Or are they unbound to the strings of our morality?

A tugging from her gut. Something tugged and tugged at her, pulling to explore further, venture deeper and leave it all behind. To forget. Until another pull whipped at her head, the sensation tearing her in half like some rag doll, the stitches unbecoming. What sight befell her eyes was clearer than the midday sun. Inches from Mabel’s feet laid a tarp, camouflaged to blend in against the grass. Undiscerning to those who didn’t look. Mabel didn’t, she just grinned, braces and all; carefree; careless. But, Lorelai, she looked. It was another hole, roughly the same size as the other by a tree nearby. She didn’t know what to do.

Her heart pounded.

Then came the running, feet rushing without care, almost slipping on every step of dirt. A dive and a shove. A blur. Dirt. Darkness.

THUD.

Then pain. Her body jerked out of instinct, which only hurt more. Adrenaline was all but forgotten, it seemed, with each subtle movement or angle of her foot sending her seething behind gritted teeth. Taking the moment to recollect her surroundings, Lorelai knew that the hole wasn’t truly all that deep for someone her height, but given her new injury, getting out alone was going to be impossible.

She sighed. Laying back and dirtying up her blonde bob as a new pain spread like a searing white-hot burn. God, she was getting too old for this. searing turned boiling, which turned to a steam that blurred her vision as it flashed in and out. Too much to almost even bare. All she could make out was the distant sounds of shouting that echoed out and about.

The faint smell of cigars lifted from her jacket, wafting up her senses. She remembered where it came from; the memory slowly overlapped with the present. They’re sitting outside. It’s dark out. A diner stood behind the man who joined her, the yellow lights leaving from the interior against the windows framing him as something he was not. She cannot make out his face – the pain is too much – but she knows. She knows him. “Don’t be a hero, Lore, ” said he after taking a drag on his cheap cigar. A habit of his that led to his gruff tone deepening worse with age.

She probably should have listened. Took his advice for once. But, then again, what sort of idiot digs a big hole in the middle of the woods? She thought. Because who would do that?

“Oh my,” interrupted a new voice. This time, real, and right above her. Almost… familiar and without the grit.

Lorelai blinked and used the remainder of her strength to keep her eyes open as the shadow of a man leant over the edge of the hole. The details weren’t clear, however, she could just make out the defined jaw, greying hair and glasses that belonged to the man.

“Stan?” the disbelieved whisper came out forced from her mouth. It was all she could do before the weightlessness kicked in and all was returned to darkness.

---

In her subconscious, the memory continued. It was her turn to speak and unpleasant and bitter she spoke. “Well, maybe you and I have a different way of seeing the world.” The end played itself over and over again before descending into the madness of a broken whirring of a tape stuck on repeat.

>Statement abruptly halts. Transcript over.

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