#thank you so much for the prompt and the support!

[whatdudtheysay]

Part 1.

Lemme cook....

Y'all I'm thinking of.... Royal army leader Toji whose life long goal was... You. Your kingdom.

He wanted it all. Ever since he met you when you first turned 18, he was infatuated. You were graceful, kind, beautiful, soft, generous....fuck.

But life wasn't fair. He was the head of the royal army, not some ditzy prince who'd meet you at a ball and fill your little head with compliments and promises of affection...only to take control over your kingdom as a husband should do.

And was the kingdoms only heir, that was what would happen. He even heard you crying to your lady's maid about it one night while he was heading to your father's study.

Poor little thing.

Toji wanted you. No...that was an understatement. He needed you. He needed you so bad It was painful. He'd treat you better than any of those annoying Princes. He would worship any breath you took....

But like he knew....life wasn't fair.

Little did Toji know....you had somewhat of a crush on him too.

On the day you turned 18 and had the most boring birthday party, most of it was spent sitting down on the third throne your parents had created for you. Or...paid for it to be created. They hated getting their hands dirty.

Comfortable but not too much. Pure gold they said. It was becoming boring. But you couldn't complain. You were blessed to be born as the princess. The only princess of your kingdom.

So, you sat straight, chin up with a soft smile as thousands of villagers and merchants came through, giving you different gifts, gold, jewellery... etcetera.

You wanted to use the excuse of needing the bathroom but just then, the trumpets sounded and in came the royal guards. Your eyes lightly widened when you saw him.

First lieutenant, Fushiguro Toji.

He was tall as shit and handsome as hell. 6ft and 2 inches of pure perfection....those forest green eyes, that scar that slashed against his lips...his muscular physique. He was more of a man then those princes your parents have been trying so hard to introduce you to.

He dropped to his knee to bow deeply to you, his men doing the same.

"it is my pleasure to finally meet you, your Highness." Toji greeted. "May I?"

You nodded slightly, stretching your hand out. Toji smirked in a way that had your heart skipping unhealthy beats as he moved closer, taking your gloved hand in his before pressing a gentle, almost tender kiss against your hand.

Your father noticed whatever was going on between you and cleared his throat, prompting Toji to gently let your hand down as if you were made of glass.

He gave one last bow before leaving .

Now that was a man you'd be fine with marrying....

.

That night, Toji was pulled aside by none other than the king himself.

"Lieutenant Fushiguro....I'd be grateful if you didn't openly ogle my daughter." Your father told him in a firm but calm way.

"ogle?" Toji raised a brow.

"Yes. Ogle. Besides I'll need your assistance. The Duke from the northern regions will be here this Sunday morning to meet my daughter. You'll guard them." Her father ordered.

Toji kept quiet. He knew what your dad was doing.

It was the royal and rich way of telling him to "mind his place."

But Toji stayed steely gazed and nodded.

"of course, your Highness." He spoke flatly.

Your father gave him one last lingering glance before walking off.

He sighed deeply and glanced at the way your father disappeared.

Sure, your father said he shouldn't ogle you...but he never said he couldn't talk to you. Plus, he'd be in the palace for a while...

What better than to acquaint himself?

-----------

I wanna make this a series so y'all, lemme know 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚

A/n - Y'all I'm so sorry about the taglist and all but I'm so disorganised. I'll get the people from the last taglist together and then try to get shit together<3

STILL TRYING TO WORK ON THE MASTER LIST.

Tags - @flamey-comet, @smolbeanzzz, @pandoraium, @hana-patata,

Thanks for support ↑ - if you wanna be added just ask <3

[bookished]

( a collection of enemies to allies dialogue prompts. adjust phrasing as necessary.) feel free to make edits to better suit your muse, but please don’t edit or add on to the original post 🤍 if you like, please consider supporting me through tips, it's highly appreciated.

"I still don't like you, but we need to work together. Just… try not to get in my way."

"If you think this means we're friends now, you're delusional."

"I’m only helping you because I need you alive—don’t make me regret it."

"We may hate each other, but we hate them more. So, truce?"

"This doesn't mean I trust you. It just means we have the same enemy."

"You're the last person I want to rely on, but right now, you're all I've got."

"I never thought I’d be fighting alongside you. Feels weird, doesn’t it?"

"We make a surprisingly good team… let’s not talk about it."

"I still want to punch you in the face, but we have bigger problems right now."

"You think this changes anything between us? Think again. But thanks… I guess."

"Look, I don’t want to owe you anything. So let's call this even."

"Just because we’re working together doesn't mean I’ve forgotten what you did."

"I swear, once this is over, it’s back to hating each other. Deal?"

"I never thought I’d say this, but… I could use your help."

"It’s not like I had a choice—you were the only one who could pull this off."

"Don't get any ideas. This is temporary, and after we're done, it's back to being enemies."

"I don’t like you, you don’t like me. Let’s just get through this without killing each other."

"I’m only here because I need something from you. Don’t mistake this for kindness."

"Funny how the universe keeps throwing us together, huh? Almost like a sick joke."

"You’re the last person I want to see right now, but it seems I don’t have much of a choice."

"I’m starting to hate how well we work together. It’s unsettling."

"If anyone asks, this never happened. I wasn’t here, and we didn’t help each other."

"I didn’t think we’d ever be on the same side, but here we are… how does that feel?"

"I still think you're insufferable, but I suppose I could tolerate you… for now."

"This changes nothing between us. We're just two people with the same goal—for now."

"As much as I hate to admit it, I wouldn’t have survived without you back there."

"You think saving my life means I owe you? We’re still enemies, make no mistake."

"I don't want to be here any more than you do, so let’s make this quick."

"It doesn’t sit right with me, trusting you. But what choice do I have?"

"If we manage to pull this off together, you might just earn a sliver of my respect."

[grayhyacinth]

Hey! Can I request a Dipper x reader where reader was actually with Ford in the portal. Like four years before the portal is reopened Ford finds this little girl in a dimension where nothing exists it's just a white void. No time passes, your body doesn't age, just nothing. He found her took her out and she basically became his apprentice. When the portal is reopened Ford isn't quite sure what it is so he tells her not to follow him and he'll check it out. She goes in anyways but ends but coming out of the portal in the basement if the shack four years in the past. So the portal is unfinished and no one's there except Stan in the other side of the glass like "wtf??".

Stand takes in reader and she ends up spending the whole summer with the twins and gets a little crush on Dipper. When he finds the journal and is talking about the author reader doesn't tell him anything she knows because she's like "I could literally destroy the space time continuum, I'm not even suppose to exist in this world". So when Ford finally comes through Dippers like "Why didn't you tell me anything???" And now Dipper has like a bigillion questions for her about the universe.

Mostly fluff if you can!

Sorry if that's like, waaayyyyyy to much backstory and not a lot of an actual prompt but I really like your writing!🩷 Keep up the good work and take care of yourself🩷🩷

Okay so, I had like no idea how to write this. But, I hope you like my attempt! I had a lot of fun envisioning scenes between Dipper and (Y/n), especially when she steals the book. I feel like this could be better written between 3-4 chapters, but a short story is also endearing. I hope you enjoy and thank you for the request! I really appreciate your wishes and support <3!

“A… child?”

You tilt your head in curiosity. This is the first time you've encountered a creature so strikingly similar to yourself. You extend a cautious hand toward him, and then poked his cheek.

The man recoils, pushing you back with surprising force and inching away in the empty white abyss. “Wh– Who are you?!” His voice quivers with fear, but his eyes are resolute, filled with a determination that intrigues you.

You crouch low, mimicking the posture of a wary creature, wide eyes locked onto his. You give a soft, inquisitive chirp, the sound escaping your lips almost instinctively.

“What… are you doing?”

The foreign sounds coming from his mouth are almost incomprehensible to you. So instead of attempting to make sense of his speech, you focus on conveying your intent through gestures and expressions. You raises a hand, palm up, a universal gesture of peace, and then exhale as if to say, “I’m not here to hurt you.”

He seems to understand your intent. His eyes soften with relief.

You notice his body language betrays a lack of hostility. He continues to stare at you, clearly curious upon who or what you were. The cold, combined with the lack of cushioning beneath you, only adds to the sense of unease.

A low rumble interrupts the silence. The man’s stomach growls loudly, and he looks down with a mix of embarrassment and self-consciousness, instinctively hugging his stomach as if to silence it.

You rise unsteadily. With a slight wobble, you began walking towards him, curious as to what that sound was.

“What are you…?” He stammers again, confusion twisting in your chest. The man brushes off your curiosity, poking at his own stomach with a slight frown.

“Stop that!” He snaps, surprising even yourself. The command hangs in the air, making him pause.

For a moment, silence wraps around you both, and you study the contours of his face—strange, yet familiar. You notice the way the light catches in his hair, the softness in his expression.

“Do you want to come with me?” he asks, and the question feels heavy, filled with possibility.

He raises an eyebrow, glancing at you expectantly. You tilt your head, trying to grasp the meaning behind his movements. His hands move again, sweeping wide as if to show you a world beyond the void. He points to himself, then to you, and smiles, nodding as if to say, together. You feel a flutter of intrigue, but confusion lingers in your mind.

“Somewhere that isn’t here,” he replies, a hint of a smile flickering across his lips. “Somewhere with colors, and sounds… and maybe even a bit of adventure.”

You tilt your head, trying to decipher the meaning behind his words. His eyes sparkle, filled with encouragement.

You nod.

His smile widens, and he reaches out, offering his hand. You grasp it, feeling the warmth radiate between you. With a gentle tug, he leads you forward, and the void begins to shimmer. Suddenly, a portal appears and at the other end is a wide horizon of the morning sun. You smile as the warm sun rays hit your skin.

As weeks go by, the man you met introduces himself as Stanford Pines. With each passing day, the bond between you grows stronger, and the initial awkwardness fades into a comfortable routine. Stanford, or Ford as he often prefers to be called, becomes a regular presence in your life.

Ford takes it upon himself to teach you the language of his universe. He is patient and persistent, using simple phrases and gestures to help you grasp the basics. Interestingly enough, he discovers that you lack a name. So he takes it upon himself to name you (Y/n) (L/n).

Each lesson is accompanied with lively stories from his travels across the multiverse. One evening, as the two of you sit by a makeshift fire you’ve managed to start with limited resources, Ford recounts a particularly thrilling tale. His voice takes on a dramatic tone as he describes a showdown with a mischievous entity that could control time itself.

“There we were,” Ford narrates, his hands illustrating the battle in the air, “Locked in a high-stakes chess game with a creature who could manipulate time. Every move we made, every strategy we devised, was countered by the whims of this trickster’s temporal powers. It was like trying to play chess while the board kept shifting!”

You listen with rapt attention, your eyes wide as you imagine the scene he’s painting. Ford’s expressive storytelling brings the experience to life, and you can almost see the strange creature and feel the tension of the game.

As the weeks turn into months, your role evolves from a mere helper to an apprentice in Ford's eyes. Under his guidance, you learn more than just his language; you become versed in the complexities of multiversal travel, and the nuances of interdimensional physics. Ford's teachings go beyond theory; you actively participate in his missions.

It’s during these missions that you begin to understand the true gravity of Ford’s work and the dangers that accompany it. One evening, as you both rest from a particularly challenging excursion, Ford opens up a piece from his past—Bill Cipher.

“Bill Cipher is no ordinary entity,” Ford explains, his tone grave. “He’s a being of pure chaos, a demon who thrives on destruction and disorder. He’s caused havoc across countless worlds, manipulating events and people to his advantage.” He takes a deep breath, a distant look in his eyes. “You have to be careful, (Y/n).”

As the stars gave away to the rays of the morning sun in Universe 323, you awoke to the soft hum of the portal generator filling the room. The familiar sound that usually signified exploration now felt ominous. A swirling vortex of colors began to materialize, casting an eerie, pulsating glow that illuminated the room in shifting hues. The light played across Ford’s face, and the warmth and affection you had grown accustomed to were replaced with a grim frown.

Ford abruptly stood up, his usually calm demeanor replaced with an urgent seriousness that made your heart sink. He turned to you, his expression a stark contrast to the warmth you were used to. “Listen, I… It’s been fun, (Y/n).” His hands grasped your shoulders tightly, his grip firm yet filled with concern. “This portal is almost identical to the one I made back in my universe. But, it could be dangerous. You need to stay here.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he raised a hand, cutting you off. “No arguments. It’s too risky. I can’t afford to have you put yourself in harm’s way.”

His words were firm, yet the worry in his eyes was unmistakable. You could see how much he cared, how deeply he was troubled by the potential dangers. Despite his insistence, a stubborn resolve settled within you. You had faced countless challenges together, and the thought of being left behind while he ventured into potential danger was unbearable.

“No way, Ford,” you said firmly, shaking your head. “I’m not staying here. Whatever it is, whatever dangers lie ahead, I’m coming with you.”

Ford’s eyes widened in frustration and disbelief. “(Y/n), this isn’t a game. You don’t understand—”

“But I do understand,” you interrupted, stepping closer, your determination unwavering. “I understand that we’re a team. I’ve been with you through thick and thin, and I’m not going to let you face whatever’s out there alone.”

Ford takes a deep breath, and then he steps closer to the portal, the light reflecting off his face in strange, mesmerizing patterns. “Stay here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He runs head first into the portal, leaving you behind.

You watch with horror as he steps forward, his silhouette dissolving into the swirling portal. The vortex’s colors shift and warp, pulling him into its depths. As the portal’s edge begins to close, you make a split-second decision.

With your heart pounding in your chest, you dart toward the portal. You hesitate only briefly, watching as the portal’s edges start to shrink. You can’t bear the thought of being left behind while Ford faces unknown dangers alone. Summoning every ounce of courage, you leap forward just as the portal starts to close.

In a rush of cold air and blinding light, you are pulled into the vortex. The world around you blurs into a whirl of colors and sensations. The portal swirls and twists, the reality bending and folding as you travel through the fabric of dimensions.

Suddenly, you find yourself stumbling onto solid ground, the portal closing behind you with a final, shimmering snap. You look around, disoriented.

As you regain your bearings, you find yourself in a basement. The room is dimly lit, with a musty smell of old wood and a clutter of odd contraptions. You glance around, trying to make sense of your surroundings. The walls are bare, and the floor is covered with intricate wires that lead to a fallen portal. A large glass-paneled door catches your eye, covered in grime but revealing a faint outline of movement on the other side.

You hear a muffled voice and a rustling sound from beyond the glass. Curiosity piqued, you move closer, wiping some of the dust away to get a better view. As the glass clears, you see a young man in his late teens on the other side, his face a picture of bewilderment and curiosity. He looks familiar, almost like… Ford?

“What the—?” The identical twin’s voice is muffled but clear, full of confusion. “Who are you?”

You open your mouth to respond, but the words get caught in your throat. This is a significant moment, and you can’t quite believe your situation. His gaze is locked on you, and he looks ready to bolt.

You raise your hands in a gesture of peace, trying to convey that you mean no harm. “I’m—”

“Hold on, who are you and where’s Poindexter?!” Stanley interrupts, his eyes darting around.

You hesitate, trying to figure out the best way to explain your presence. “Uh… Hi,” you begin, raising your hands in a calming gesture. “My name is (Y/n) (L/n), and I came in through that… portal.” You glance behind you and point to the triangle contraption.

He blinks, his confusion deepening as he studies the portal and then looks back at you. “No. That doesn’t make sense. I just… flicked a switch and my brother was suppose to come through. Not some… child?!”

You glance at the chaotic mess of wires and blinking lights surrounding the portal, noting the flaws that must have caused this unexpected shift in reality. “I think something went wrong,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Stanley’s eyes narrow. “What do you mean, ‘something went wrong’? You don’t even know what you’re doing here!” His tone is sharper, but beneath the surface, you can sense a flicker of worry.

You take a cautious step forward, keeping your hands raised to ease the tension. “I just… came through. I didn’t choose this.” You point back at the portal again, hoping he’ll see that you’re just as confused as he is. “I’m not… him, but maybe I’m connected to him somehow. I can help you figure this out.”

The identical twin’s skepticism is evident, but curiosity seems to win out. “Alright, let’s say I believe you’re not here to cause trouble. How are you going to help me?”

You take a deep breath, carefully choosing your words. “The portal, as you can see, is unstable. I need to fix it and recalibrate it so I can get back to where I came from. But to do that, I need some tools and parts—and a place to stay for the time being…”

You spot a familiar journal with six fingers and decide to use it to your advantage. ”That journal over there, for example—it looks like it could be significant.”

His eyes follow your gaze, and he approaches the journal with caution. “That’s my brother’s old journal. He’s got a bunch of weird notes and sketches in there.”

As he opens the journal, you can see the pages filled with cryptic notes and strange symbols. Your heart races, but you maintain your composure. This is your chance to gather information and possibly find a way back to your own time.

“Well,” He mumbles, “I guess I can show you around and see if we can find what you’re looking for. But remember, if you’re here on some wild goose chase, you’re going to have to explain yourself.”

You nod, relieved to have gained his trust, at least for now. “I understand. Thank you for your help.”

Four years have flown by in the blink of an eye. You’re now twelve years old, teetering on the brink of adolescence, and life at the Mystery Shack has become a second home. The young man who once introduced himself as Stanley Pines has taken on the identity of Stanford Pines—his brother’s name. Though you still call him Stanford, you’ve grown to understand the complexities of his dual life. Ford, the man you originally met, is still trapped somewhere in the multiverse, but you’re confident that your understanding of his research will eventually lead you to him.

The summer sun casts a warm glow over the Mystery Shack, and the air is filled with the usual hum of activity. You’re busy organizing some of the newer additions to the shop’s odd collection when the sound of laughter and excited voices reaches your ears. You look up and see a young boy and girl standing at the entrance, their faces lit with curiosity and excitement.

Stanford had an arm wrapped around each of their shoulders. “(Y/n)! I’d like for you to meet my great niece and nephew”

The young girl, with her bright purple sweater and an exuberant smile, bounces on her toes. “Hi! I’m Mabel, and this is my brother, Dipper. We’re here for the summer!”

The boy, slightly more reserved but with an inquisitive gaze, gives a polite nod. “I’m Dipper. We heard a lot about this place and thought we’d check it out.”

You watch from a distance, noting the genuine curiosity in their eyes. Mabel’s enthusiasm is infectious, and Dipper’s serious demeanor suggests a keen interest in the mysteries of the Shack.

Stanford’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “Well, you’ve come to the right place! The Shack is full of oddities and secrets. How about a tour?”

As Stanford leads them around, you decide to introduce yourself, keen to make a good impression. You approach with a friendly wave. “Hi there! I’m (Y/n). I help out around here.”

Mabel’s eyes widened with interest. “Nice to meet you, (Y/n)! What’s your favorite part of the Shack?”

You think for a moment, remembering all the strange moments. “It’s hard to pick just one thing. But I’d say the most interesting part was the time Stanford tried to use a gadget from a TV ad to make his hair grow back? Let’s just say it ended up giving him a ‘special’ new look—like he was auditioning for a role in a Bigfoot documentary!”

Dipper chuckles lightly, his  eyes wide with curiosity. “What did you look like?”

You laugh, trying to contain your amusement. “Let’s just say, for a while there, Stanford had enough hair to start his own wig-making business. It was like someone mixed a Sasquatch with a tumbleweed.”

Stanford, catching your comment, coughs awkwardly and blushes slightly. He quickly grabs Mabel and Dipper by their shoulders and steers them out of the gift shop and through the door leading into the main part of the house. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now, let’s get back to showing you the real wonders of the Shack.”

As he leads the twins away, Stanford turns back towards you and shoots you a look, his two fingers making a playful pointing gesture. “And remember, no more jokes unless you want to end up as the next mess cleanup crew.”

Just like that, the entertaining summer began. You never thought you’d get attach to these people, but, it seems like they were slowly wiggling their way into your heart. It was then, during one lazy afternoon at the Mystery Shack, with the sun streaming through the windows, casting warm, golden rays across the cozy living room. Stanford was busy showing off some new exhibits to illicit cash from naive tourists, and Mabel had disappeared into one of her craft projects, leaving you and Dipper to your own activities.

You were lounging on the old, well-worn couch, flipping through a magazine. Dipper, on the other hand, was on the floor, surrounded by a mountain of books and notes. He had a stack of papers in front of him.

“Hey, Dipper,” you said softly, setting the magazine aside and stretching your arms above your head. “You look like you’re about to solve the mysteries of the universe over there.”

After a while, Dipper looked up and noticed you watching him. He sighed, rubbing his eyes before speaking. “Yeah, I might be trying to do just that. Do you think you could help me out with something? I’m trying to figure out this ancient code, and I could use a second set of eyes.”

You smiled and joined him on the floor, settling beside him. As you turned your attention to the sprawled-out notes and journal, you couldn’t help but notice the dark bags under his eyes and the ink stains on the side of his hand. “Rough night?”

Dipper gave a sheepish grin. “You could say that. I’ve been at this for hours…”

You glanced at the ancient code, then at Dipper. “ Is this important enough to look like a zombie? I’m starting to think the real mystery is how you manage to stay awake with those bags under your eyes.”

Dipper rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement. “Okay, okay, I get it! Maybe I should take a break… but only if you help me crack this code first!”

As you both leaned over the papers, you felt Dipper’s soft hair gently brush against your head. The scent of pine trees filled your senses. It was a subtle, intimate moment, and you couldn’t help but feel a warm flutter in your chest.

Dipper, oblivious to the effect he was having, was intently focused on the notes. He occasionally mumbled to himself, his brow furrowed in concentration. “If we align these symbols with the constellation map from the journal...”

You glanced at the stack of papers and noticed one of the journals—Journal 3. The sight made you freeze momentarily, as you recognized it from the work you had been doing to repair the portal. You realized that Dipper was working on a section related to the portal.

A sinking feeling washed over you. If you helped him decode the ancient symbols, it could potentially disrupt the space-time continuum, especially since you technically weren’t supposed to exist or intervene in this timeline.

You blink.

Suddenly struck with the idea that perhaps he could use a break to clear his mind. “Hey, Dipper,” you said softly, nudging him out of his intense focus. “We’ve been at this for a while. How about we take a break and do something fun? You know, just to clear our heads?”

Dipper looked up, surprised but visibly relieved. “A break? I guess that sounds like a good idea. I could use a breather.”

You smiled, feeling a bit adventurous. “Great! I was thinking we could go grab some ice cream. It’s a beautiful day outside, and I think it’d be nice to get some fresh air.”

Dipper’s eyes brightened, and he quickly started to gather up the notes and close the journal. “Umm.. okay. Ice cream sounds awesome.”

The walk to the nearby ice cream stand was filled with easy conversation and laughter. The sun-kissed air and the lively chatter of the small town around you created a relaxed, almost date-like atmosphere.

“I can’t resist,” you said, grinning. “I’m getting the triple scoop sundae.”

Dipper chuckled, his usual enthusiasm for adventure replaced with a casual ease. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll just get a cone. Can’t go wrong with classic vanilla.”

You waited while the vendor scooped your sundae, and then you both settled on a nearby bench. You took a bite of your ice cream, letting the rich, cold flavor melt on your tongue.

“Want a taste?” you asked, holding out the spoon to Dipper, who was licking his cone with a satisfied smile.

He hesitated, looking at the spoon as if it were some kind of test. “Uh, sure. I guess I could try some.”

You watched as he nervously leaned closer, his cheeks turning a shade of pink that matched the evening sky. He took a tiny lick, his eyes widening slightly at the burst of flavor.

“Not bad,” he admitted. A hint of pink highlights his cheeks.

A playful idea crossed your mind. You grinned, extending the spoon further toward him. “How about you give it a proper taste?”

Dipper’s face turned even redder in surprise and embarrassment. “You want me to…?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

You nodded, trying to suppress a giggle. “Yeah, go ahead. It’s just ice cream.”

He took a deep breath, his gaze dropping to the spoon, then back up to you. With a shy but determined look, he finally leaned in and gently took the spoon into his mouth. His lips brushed against the spoon, and you noticed the way his eyes fluttered shut for a split second, savoring the taste.

As he pulled back, he looked up at you, his nervous expression seeming a bit more relaxed in relief. “That’s actually really good,” he said, managing a small, shy smile.

You chuckled, the playful moment filling you with a warm, fuzzy feeling. But as you watched him, something else bubbled up inside you. It wasn’t just the sweetness of the ice cream that made your heart race—it was the way Dipper had looked at you.

Realization dawned on you. The way he smiled, the blush on his cheeks, and the way he seemed so genuine and kind—it all made you feel something deeper than just friendship. You liked him. Maybe more than just a little.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady the flutter in your chest. “I’m glad you liked it,” you said softly, trying to sound nonchalant.

Dipper’s eyes met yours, and for a brief, electric moment, it felt like you were both on the edge of something new and exciting. “Thanks for sharing,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.

This little moment shared between the two of you, became something you cherished deeply. Every time you hung out with Dipper, after this, you’d find ways to spend more time with him. Even as he began to idolize a special author close to his heart.

A couple weeks later, the Mystery Shack was quieter than usual, the kind of quiet that made every creak and rustle seem louder than it really was. Dipper was in the backyard, engrossed in a game with Mabel and Waddles. You, however, had a different plan in mind.

You’d noticed Dipper’s Journal 3 resting on the coffee table in the living room earlier—a tantalizing opportunity to steal it for yourself. You were almost done. You were so close to reuniting Stanford and Stanley, hopefully even introducing Stanford to Dipper. You just needed this last book.

Moving quietly, you crept towards the table, careful not to make a sound. Your heart raced with excitement as you reached out and gently lifted the journal. It was heavier than you expected, filled with the weight of countless adventures and Dipper’s personal notes.

Just as you were about to retreat with your prize, you heard a faint rustle. Dipper’s head poked through the open window, his eyes scanning the room. You froze, hiding the journal behind your back and holding your breath.

Dipper’s gaze landed on the coffee table, then slowly shifted around the room. “Hey, have you seen my journal? I could have sworn I left it here…”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a smile. “I haven’t seen it. Maybe you left it upstairs with the other stuff?”

Dipper looked skeptical but nodded, stepping inside.in that split second, you knew you had to act. You shuffled to the couch, tucking the journal away behind the cushions.

The moment he entered the room. His eyes wandered around the room, coming closer to where you were standing. You shifted slightly, trying to stay out of his line of sight. Every step he took, closer to you, you’d shuffle away. Your hands were tucked suspiciously behind you.

Your movements were far from graceful, and the effort made you giggle.

Dipper eyed you cautiously. “What’s so funny?” he asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

You tried to maintain your composure, but your voice wavered. “Nothing, nothing,” you managed to say, your smile widening despite your best efforts.

Dipper tilted his head in curiosity. “I’m going to find it,” he declared with a playful smirk, taking a few steps closer. The soft glow of the room’s light cast a warm hue on his cheeks, making his blush even more endearing.

Suddenly, he reached behind you, and you felt his fingers brush against yours as he grabbed your empty hands. The touch was brief but electric, sending a shiver up your spine. In the sudden motion, you stumbled, causing Dipper to lose his balance.

He tripped over your feet and went crashing to the ground, landing on top of you with a surprised yelp.

As you lay there, with Dipper on top of you, the room seemed to swirl around in a hazy mix of laughter and warmth. Dipper’s surprised yelp melted into an awkward chuckle, and his cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink. You found yourself caught between bursts of laughter and the sweet fluttering in your chest.

Dipper tried to push himself up, but his hands were still resting on your sides, and every movement only further tangled up your limbs together. His face was inches from yours, and you could see the twinkle of amusement in his eyes, as well as the genuine concern. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice softer now.

You nodded, your laughter subsiding into a gentle smile. “I’m fine. Are you?” you teased.

He met your gaze, his eyes lingering on yours. There was a moment of silence, a suspended breath where the world outside seemed to pause. “Yeah, I’m good,” he replied, his tone laced with an affectionate warmth. “Hey, (Y/n)—”

The sound of voices and clumsy footsteps grew louder. Suddenly, Mabel and Waddles burst into the room, their energy a stark contrast to the cozy moment you had just shared.

“Dipper, Dipper!” Mabel called out excitedly. “Waddles and I are ready for the next round of our game! We need you out here!”

Waddles squealed happily, adding to the commotion. Dipper glanced at you, reluctance in his eyes. “Looks like I’m being summoned,” he said, chuckling as Mabel and Waddles dragged him towards the door.

“Don’t be long!” Mabel called over her shoulder, already heading back outside with Waddles trotting beside her. “We’ve got a big adventure planned!”

Dipper gave you a final, playful smile before being pulled out into the backyard. As the door closed behind them, you were left alone in the quiet room once more.

You took a deep breath, savoring the peaceful moment. It was go time. With the coast clear, you hurriedly moved back to the couch where you had hidden the journal. Your heart raced as you reached under the cushion and retrieved the book,

Carefully, you made your way to the basement, cradling the journal close. The soft thud of your footsteps was the only sound as you entered your sanctuary. With a mixture of triumph and nervous excitement, you placed the journal on your desk, feeling a surge of satisfaction.

Settling into your chair, you opened the journal, ready to dive into its pages. The room was quiet, the only light coming from the soft glow of your lamp. As you began to read, you felt a sense of contentment and anticipation. You were close, so close.

The room's tranquility was abruptly shattered by the sound of loud, frantic yelling coming from upstairs. You jumped, the journal nearly slipping from your grasp. Before you could process what was happening, Stanley burst into the room, his face pale and drawn, breath ragged as if he'd been running for miles.

"(Y/n)!" he shouted, his voice urgent and tinged with panic. "Kid, look. I need you to hurry up. They’re here."

Confusion flashed across your face as you looked up at him. "Who’s here?" you asked, your heart racing at the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

Grunkle Stan, usually so composed and gruff, now looked anything but. He clumsily raised his hands in the air, waving them wildly as if trying to shoo away an invisible threat. "The government! We’ve got to move fast if we want to bring back Poindexter!"

Your mind whirled, struggling to catch up with the gravity of the situation. You nodded grimly, setting the journal down on your desk with a quick, deliberate motion. "Okay, alright. Fine."

You began to scribble hurriedly onto a separate note, crunching the numbers and double-checking every task to make sure it all aligned. Stan had already dashed back upstairs, possibly to help stall for time before any raids happened.

Time passed quickly, and you found yourself pacing back and forth among cables and wires, blackboards covered in equations, and strewn papers scattered everywhere, scrambling to find your missing pencils. The numbers weren’t adding up; something was missing. You sprinted back to the battery that powered the portal. Attached to it was a large generator, and you tapped against the glass of the fuel gauge. The little pointer trembled up and then dropped down again, and a sinking feeling settled into the pit of your stomach.

Once again, the sounds of heavy footsteps echoed down the stairs. “How’s it going in here? Are we ready to go?” Stan called out, his voice slightly out of breath. He seemed to have tucked the twins into bed and was prepared to finish this.

You turned around, giving him one long, grave look. “Yeah…” You swallowed thickly. “But we only have one shot at this.”

“Of course we do. With the government knocking at our front door, we need to do this right.” Stan waved a dismissive hand, seemingly unaware of your trembling fingers. He walked toward the monitors and desk, pulling out the swivel chair and sitting down with a huff. He began flicking everything on.

The sounds of beeping and swirling energy filled the room. The light blue hue from the portal illuminated everything, casting eerie shadows that danced along the walls. Suddenly, gravity shifted, and objects began to float slowly upward. The floor shook beneath you, a deep rumble vibrating through the air.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. You and Stan walked toward the portal, standing directly under the imposing structure. You glanced at him. “Are you ready to bring your brother back home?”

He met your gaze, a grin spreading across his face. “Absolutely! Are you ready to go home?”

You hesitated, the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. “I…”

Suddenly, Dipper and Mabel appeared behind you, their voices raised in alarm. “Stop! You have to explain what’s going on!” Mabel shouted, her eyes wide with concern, while Dipper looked equally frantic.

You turned, caught off guard. “Guys, we’re trying to save—”

“Save who?” Dipper interjected, stepping forward. “What’s happening?”

Stan interjected, urgency ringing in his voice. “Listen, kids. I’m sorry for not telling you this sooner—”

Just then, the portal began to tremble violently, and suddenly, you all felt yourselves lifting off the ground, floating upward toward the ceiling. It was almost time.

“Mabel! Stop the portal!” Dipper yelled at his sister, scrambling to reach something secure on the floor.

Mabel was gripping your hand for dear life, her eyes wide with fear, while you clutched onto the edge of the desk, trying to steady yourself amidst the chaos. “What do I do?!” she shouted, her voice strained against the growing hum of the portal.

“Press the red button!”

You and Stan both shouted in unison. “No! Mabel, please!”

Mabel’s eyes darted between the portal and the control panel, uncertainty flooding her face. “But —”

“Kids, look!” Stan’s voice was laced with desperation, the lines of age etched deeper into his features. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you some things in the past. I tried to tell you guys! But I just couldn’t.” His lips trembled as he continued, “I’ll tell you everything once all of this is over. Just please trust me!”

“Don’t listen to him!” Dipper urged, his voice rising above the chaotic hum of the portal. “We can’t lose this chance!”

“Dipper! Please!” You turned your attention to him, feeling your heart race. “I know that Stan and I seem suspicious right now, but you have to understand—we have to do this!”

Dipper shook his head, frustration mingling with concern. “Shut up!” He huffs out. “We can’t blindly trust you or Stan after everything!”

Mabel looked between you and Dipper, her expression filled with uncertainty. “What do I do, Dipper?”

You look at her, and say, “You know us, Mabel. You can trust us!”

“It’s like I don’t even know you guys anymore! Who even are you, Grunkle Stan… and you…” Mabel’s voice trembled as she looked at you, tears brimming in her eyes. She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut. “I trusted you, (Y/n).”

You glanced at Dipper, and even he had tears streaming down his face. He looked at you as if you were a foreign enemy, and your heart sank under the weight of his feelings.

The seconds ticked down, and Mabel’s hesitation cost her the chance to press the glowing red button. Suddenly, gravity returned with a jolt, and you all crashed to the floor, the impact knocking the breath from your lungs.

As you tried to gather your thoughts, a man stepped out of the blue portal. He was imposing, holding a gun in one hand, dressed in a heavy trench coat that billowed slightly with the portal’s energy. A set of dark glasses sat high upon his nose, obscuring his eyes, but the air of authority around him was intimidating.

You could recognize him anywhere. Stan beat you to it, rushing forward and knocking you aside as he enveloped his brother, Stanford, in a fierce hug. “Ford! You’re back!” he exclaimed, relief washing over him.

But Ford, clearly not in the mood for celebrations, slapped Stan’s face away and yelled, “What were you thinking, Stan? Activating the portal like that could endanger all of humanity!”

While the brothers engaged in a heated argument, you stumbled to your feet and stepped forward, your heart racing at the sight of the man who had taught you so much. “Ford!” you called out, trying to break through the tension.

He turned, his expression softening slightly as he saw you. “(Y/n)!” Ford said, his voice a mix of surprise and warmth. “I’m glad to see you, but this isn’t the time—”

“I know, I know,” you interrupted, feeling the weight of everything that had just happened. “But we need your help. The government is here, and they want to take us in. We were trying to bring you back safely, but now it’s all gone sideways!”

The twins follow behind you, Dipper brushes against your arm, but his gaze is on the the identical twin of who he thought was Stanford Pines. “Who… are you?”

“Ford!” Stan rushes over and squeezes the kids by their shoulders. “These two are our great niece and nephews! Meet Dipper and Mabel.”

The twins followed closely behind you, and as you moved, Dipper brushed against your arm. His gaze was fixed on the man standing before them, who looked strikingly like the Stanford they had come to know. “Who… are you?” he asked, confusion evident in his voice.

“Ford!” Stan rushed over, squeezing the kids by their shoulders with a grin. “These two are our great niece and nephew! Meet Dipper and Mabel.”

The real Ford raised an eyebrow, taking a moment to absorb the introduction. “Kids…?” He raises an arm out to shake hands with them.

Mabel, her initial shock wearing off, smiled brightly. She shakes hands first. “You look just like Grunkle Stan! But way cooler!” She giggled, her infectious energy breaking some of the tension.

Dipper reaches out, still skeptical. “What’s going on here?” He then glances down at his fingers and notices that there’s six of them. “You’re… the author?! No way!”

You giggle, pleased by his surprise reaction. “Stanford was my mentor in the past. I knew you’d be excited to see him.”

Dipper looks at you, then Stanford and then back to you. “I totally do not trust you at all anymore. But I have so many questions I want to ask!”

Your heart sank at Dipper's words, the weight of his distrust settling heavily in your chest. You’d worked hard to earn his trust, and now it felt like it was slipping away. “I understand,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I just wanted to help.”

His expression softening slightly. “Okay, I’m willing to get to know you again. But promise me, no more secrets? You also have to answer all the questions I have!”

Your heart lifted a little at his willingness to try again. “I’d be happy to share,” you said, grateful for the opportunity. You reached out to grab his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

As you all moved forward, Dipper turned to you, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “So, first question: Did the crush you have on me fake, or real?”

You blink. “My… what?!”

[comfort-character-central]

Imagine your f/o placing reassuring hands on your shoulders, giving you a kind smile. "I just wanted to tell you that you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I'd be lost without you."

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Old Men(tor) Big Naturals

(for @3luecactuz)

[luffyvace]

Hi I just wanted to say I love ur sm and I'm so glad to have found ur blog <333

It so hard to find a someone to write form tdlosk<3 (the author reader)

I had a cute though if it the came in my mind when reading the P2(?) Of it, Reader friend to show his approval of reader and saiki when he released his newest chapter in some of panel in the background there is this couple who is closely looks like reader and saiki or if there scene where there is desserts the most will stand out is a coffee jelly w Reader fav dessert and along with words of "coffee jelly and f/d are the finest together" (f/d = favorite dessert)

Sorry if I talked ur ear off I just wanted to rent this thought of mine ^^

Have a good day!

AWW YOUR SO SWEEEEEET!! TYSM DARLING <33 I agree I don’t see very many!!

AHHH THATS SUCH A GOOD IDEA!! That’s absolutely adorable I starting smiling so hard while typing this‼️💖

…………………..♡♡♡……………….

When you were reading your friend’s latest chapter you saw he drew a couple in that background resembled your appearance and had two thingys sticking out a guy’s head and glasses

you instantly knew it was you two!! (Especially with saiki’s limiters LOL)

freaking out, you and immediately ran to Saiki to show him 😭💓💓

he probably already noticed if he read the book before you

”KUSUO LOOK!! Looklooklook!- my author friend put us in the latest chapter!!!”

”yeah, I know I saw, he put us in the manga :)”

”that’s so ADORABLE 💞💞”

”I’m so happy! I’ve gotta thank him!”

you called your friend and barely gave him a chance to speak as you bursted with appreciation over the phone

he tells you he thought you and Saiki were a cute couple from when you introduced them to each other

so he got the spontaneous idea to put you two in his book!!

he explained that although it looked like you were just standing there with hearts over your heads (<3) you two were coming back from a dessert date!!

In a flash there was a smile on your face as you ran over to Kusuo once again to relay the message

he was rather fond of it considering that means he was eating coffee jelly 😎

”dang now he wants some..”

there was another scene where the main character passed a bakery and the items on sale in the window were coffee jelly and f/d!!!

the poster even read “coffee jelly and f/d are the finest together!~”

AWWWW SO CUTE!!

your shaking Kusuo and jumping up and down as you tell him about it!

he just sits there and lest it all happen with a faint smile 💖

he’s happy too of course

but your (literally) jumping with joy

often times after your friend finishes a chapter

you know how authors do that thing where they would put little doodles or facts at the end?

yeah he puts little chibi sketches of you and Kusuo doing cute couple stuff

one chapter will be chibi’s of you two holding hands

The next is you two on a date eating coffee jelly and f/d

it absolutely warms your heart 😭💝💝

you rant to Kusuo, your friends, your family, your author friend- EVERYBODY each time he does it

its so sweet of him!!

one time you put a detailed sketch of your author friend at the end of your chapter and he appreciated it so much!!

now it’s sorta just a back and forth thing between you two :3

This was such an adorable concept 😊💖

°

🏌️‍♀️

:3 (LOL)

[softquietsteadylove]

Hii love, how are you? I have a little request if thats ok.

Gilgamesh has the most horrific nightmare ever, Thena dying in his arms, there is blood and she is in pain and when she closes her eyes one last time Gil finally wakes up, only to find Thena missing from their bed, he searchs for her like a mad man, only to find her in the kitchen drinking water, he picks her up and refuses to let her go for the rest of the day.

Gilgamesh shoots up out of bed. He's gasping for breath, sweat on his brow. He presses his palm to his chest and flexes his fingers. He looks over at Thena's side of the bed, frantic for her presence.

She isn't there.

It's still warm, though. He can see where the weight of her body wrinkles the bed sheets and he can smell the scent of her fondness for the garden. His hand slides over to it, feeling the latent warmth of her presence.

He throws back the covers, desperate to see her with his own eyes. He can still feel the weight of her body in his arms--the dead weight. What it was like to look at her face, still and motionless and cold. He can vividly recall the feeling of carrying his wife to her funeral pyre and watching her body be consumed by flame.

"Thena?!"

He runs out of their bedroom, ripping the door off its hinges--weak things in comparison to his unchecked strength. He looks around their home frantically. His heart is searching for her, the Cosmic Energy in his veins screaming for her.

She's here--he can feel her presence! It exists, she's close, and even if she weren't, her existence would tether his and pull, like ends of the same string.

"Thena!" he calls out again, moving into the kitchen. He can see everything the way they left it last night. Their chairs are pushed in lazily, his apron is thrown over the edge of the sink after she told him to hang it up where it belongs yet again. He turns, ready to break this door open too.

Then she walks in. She's unaware of the nightmare that nearly sent him into hysterics. She walks in, barefoot as always, her long white dress dancing around her legs. The sun streams in behind her, lighting her bright blonde hair like an angel's halo.

"What are you yelling about?" she asks as if he's been shouting at the tv again. "I could hear you all the way from the water tower. I just looked over the garden, although th-!"

She stumbles, although any creature from this planet would have been plowed through the far wall from sheer force. But she corrects her footing, letting him latch onto her and hold her for all the eternal life in him.

He whimpers, burying his face against her shoulder. He inhales the scent of her breath, absorbs the warmth of her through her cotton dress, hears the beat of her heart as his own syncs to it.

"Gilgamesh?" she asks without asking. She runs her fingers through his hair, but he remains cloistered around her. Her face turns to kiss his temple, "what ever could be so wrong?"

She has no idea. He nuzzles the side of her neck, "don't move."

She sighs for the sake of sighing, but she does as he asks. Her fingers run through the hair on top of his head lightly and soothingly. Her other hand rubs his back. He, the Strongest Eternal, truly dwarfs her lithe frame in size. But she lets him lean on her like a tree losing its strength.

Eventually his nervous system puts out its own fire. The fear in his mind settles enough for him to open his eyes. He stays close, pressing his nose against her skin as he drags it up her neck and her jaw until he holds her cheeks to look at her--really look at her.

Thena blinks at him, her marvelously green eyes gone wide and adorable. They close as he leans in for a kiss. When they part, her lips are pulled into a smile. "Will you tell me now?"

"No," he denies, and kisses her again. He gives many more kisses, receiving her return with each. He does that until he feels strong enough to take even half a step away from her. He sighs, letting his shoulders drop, tilting his head as he gazes upon his beautiful wife.

"Gil," she prompts him more gently. Her eyelashes flutter, and her concern for him travels through her palm as she slides it up his chest and then to his cheek as well. They have been married several hundred years, and she will get an answer out of him sooner than later.

He sighs again, wrapping his arms around her and moving her to the sink, where she pours water for them. "Just a bad dream."

"Hm." It's obviously more than just a bad dream. But she leaves it at that, because their days now are full of small battles, not large ones. She raises the glass to his lips for him, as if they were wearied after the Trojan War again.

He remains wrapped around her. He can't let her go. The fear that lived in his mind during that dream hasn't left yet. It's still there, watching him despite the light of day.

Thena takes a sip for herself. "Sit?"

He makes a small sound of agreement. She moves towards the table but he prevents her from separating from him again. "Couch."

He can imagine her rolling her eyes, although it's only for the humour of it. She moves past the kitchen table and towards their more comfortable space. She seats herself and lets him seat himself around her, cradling her against him preciously. "The door?"

He grunts; he'll fix it later.

Once reclined on their couch, he breathes a little easier. This is more familiar and gentle. This is where they've spent sunny afternoons together. Sometimes they read together, sometimes he reads and she sleeps on him the way a cat would. She never liked those creatures.

He would run his fingers through her hair and sometimes she would idly rub his back. They would spend evenings here reminiscing about their thousands upon thousands of years together. Sometimes they would go out to their hammock and watch the stars.

Thena settles herself in his arms. She turns over, letting her head tuck itself under his chin, her hand over his heart with his arms wrapped around her. "Better?"

He nods. They speak the other's language--a way of understanding that only they two have. Usually it's she who has few words to offer but even now, with him being reticent, she understands it.

They sit like this for a long time. He watches the shadows rise and stretch and fall in the other direction. When it's in the windows and on them he moves his hands, only to shield her from the direct touch of its rays.

That privilege is for him and him alone. By the second time he does this she turns over again. He's not entirely certain if she's truly gone to sleep or not. But holding her, feeling the rise and fall of her chest, the way she feels comfortable with him; he feels eased.

Thena senses this. She sneaks one of her arms around his back and against the couch. The other she toys with the opening at the neck of his shirt. Her pale, pearly nail taps against his skin. "Now?"

The Warrior Eternal is not a patient woman.

Although, she has expended more patience than he has seen from her in quite a long time. For beings with all the time in the world, she is not the best at watching it go by. At least not with the menial. When they were first raising chickens, he could swear she would observe the eggs every quarter hour.

"Bad dream," he repeats from earlier. He already knows she knows this, and he already knows she knows how bad it is to have him this paranoid. He squeezes her shoulder. "Terrible, really."

"Hm," she encourages him, moving her hand from his shirt to his neck, cupping his jaw from below. She strokes it, pulling the words from him with her gentle touch.

"You..." he pauses. He doesn't want to lie to her, even if it's by omitting the truth. "I killed you."

"Impossible."

It's not, and they're well aware of it. But Thena speaks of it lightly, and he likes to think it's because she knows that he would take the utmost care of her, even in a nightmare.

"Felt possible," he argues, pursing his lips as he tries to get the image of her still and unblinking face out of his head. His face gets moved, tilted down to look at her lying on him. It's upside down, but this image of her is much better. He smiles.

Thena smiles too, leaning up to kiss him, letting their lips stretch no matter how far to do so. Hers are always so plump and luscious, like berries. He wants to grow berries here for her, but the ground is simply too dry.

She runs her fingers through his hair again, letting her palm press against his forehead. "It's gone now."

It's such a simple statement, but she's right. As soon as a dream happens, it's already a thing of the past. And maybe he will remember it for a long time to come. Maybe pieces of it will always be with him. But it's not in front of him now, she is.

Thena laughs as he stands suddenly, spinning them around with her hands around his neck. "What has gotten into you?"

He just gazes at her, lucky enough to have his own version of a star to brighten and dazzle and illuminate his every moment on this green and blue spec of cosmos. "Do you remember coming home like this?"

He's carried her like this plenty of times. But she knows what he means; he means the first time he carried her inside like this, as his wife. She nods, stroking his cheek again.

"Y'know, I hear humans can get married again sometimes," he grins, refusing to let the dream colour any more of the beautiful present with his beautiful wife. "They call it renewing your vows."

"We didn't make vows."

Ah, his wife, ever the romantic. He chuckles, touching the tip of his nose to hers. "We can make some this time."

"Construct some poetry for the benefit of a strange human to witness?" she scoffs at the utter absurdity.

"You would write me poetry?" he asks and receives another bubbly laugh.

"I would consider it," she appeals as he spins them one more time and sits with her again. She remains in his hold, on his lap, curled against him. "But for your eyes only. A mortal mind could never wrap its mind around what we have been through together."

That is true. Their love isn't for a mortal to comprehend. He is immortal, and sometimes he's left in awe of it. He stares at his wife, wondering if he should learn to weave so he can make a glorious tapestry devoted to every second - every minute, every hour - he's had with her.

He has all the time in the world.

[a-little-unsteddie]

60+ Prompts for 500 Followers!

500 followers! Insane! Thank you so much! I’ve compiled 60 very self-indulgent prompts to celebrate!

Send as many numbers as you want, make sure to specify if the prompt has multiple options below it, which option you want! (i.e. 8c for “We have a problem.” / “No, you have a problem.”) Also! Include the pairing and vibe (angst/fluff/etc).

pairings i’ll write: steve/eddie, steve/jonathan, steve/argyle, steve&robin, robin/chrissy, robin/nancy, robin/vickie, p much any platonic ship <3

edit: i will work on these as i can! probably tomorrow night :)

prompt list below the cut :)

20 dialogue prompts

1. “We should compare hand sizes.”

2. “Easy, you’re alright, I got you.”

3. “So, how’d that work out for you?”

4. “It’s not fair.”

5. “I expected more.”

6. “I must be in heaven.”

7. “I must be in hell.”

8. “We have a problem.”

a. “Let me guess. You caused it?”

b. “It’s 7:30am.”

c. “No, you have a problem.”

d. “Of course we have a problem. Why wouldn’t we have a problem?”

9. “You’re staring.”

10. “Excuse me, I have to go make a scene.”

11. “I’m gonna need therapy after this.”

12. “I’ve never seen you that angry.”

13. “I thought that if I acted like it didn’t matter, then it wouldn’t.”

14. “Let me take care of things for once, okay?”

15. “Do you wanna get some fresh air?”

16. “I can’t pretend anymore.”

17. “You’re my person.”

18. “Why would you do that?”

a. “As if I could do anything else.”

b. “It was fun.”

c. “You were standing right there!”

d. “It was a dare.”

19. “That was supposed to be a secret!”

20. “And just who do you think you are?”

20 tropes

21. enemies to lovers/friends

22. strangers to lovers/friends

23. whump

a. illness

b. stress/anxiety

c. injury

d. other (specify if you want)

24. fake dating

25. only one bed

26. memory loss

27. magical au (specify if you have smth in mind)

28. nerd/jock

29. forced proximity

30. time loop

31. modern au (specify if you have smth in mind)

32. hanahaki disease

33. miscommunication

34. mutual pining

35. monster au

a. vampire

b. werewolf

c. cryptid (specify if you want)

d. other (specify if you want)

36. mafia au

37. famous au (specify otherwise i’ll go hogwild and self indulge :b)

38. animal transformation

39. superhero au

40. canon-divergence/alternate canon

a. eddie joins s3

b. different first meeting

c. numbered!character (007/010)

d. other (specify please)

20 moments

41. first kiss

42. first meeting

43. last kiss

44. coming out

45. feelings realization

46. lost scenes

a. rv conversations

b. forest scene conversations

c. other (specify please)

47. break up

48. sharing a secret

49. love confessions

50. oh. oh.

51. sharing clothes

52. game night

53. first time holding hands

54. movie night

55. rewrite scenes

a. boathouse

b. finding eddie at skull rock

c. other (specify please)

56. surprise party

57. gift giving

58. comfort after a nightmare

59. morning after

60. accidental kiss

[allylikethecat]

"my poor baby, i'm so sorry." this has potential

Hello dearest anon! Last week I said that I would write any new prompt I got first in exchange for feedback on the new All the King's Horses chapter. I have no idea if you sending me this prompt and then THREE whole super lovely comments appearing on that fic are related BUT in case they are, I have done my very best to fill this super fun prompt from the Reactions to making someone cry prompt list! If anyone else wants to send any fun prompts from that list, it can be found HERE.

ALSO I know I haven't filled any of these in a while but I promise I will / am going to get through all of the ones in my inbox eventually! I am a little out of practice so I'm not sure if this is my best work... BUT I tried and also I finished it so I'm counting that as a win! Thank you for taking the time to send it! I hope you enjoy it and are having a lovely Thursday and a great rest of your week!

❤️Ally

"my poor baby, i'm so sorry."

WARNINGS: mentions of past drug abuse, broken bones

Matty managed to hold it together until he was backstage. Sharp, shooting, stabbing pain moving up his ankle with each labored breath. He didn’t dare put weight on it, trying to breathe slowly, even as his lungs screamed desperately for more oxygen, having just completed a two hour show. He felt dizzy and untethered, his head fuzzy with pain as he stumbled over to one of the black gear trunks, “The 1975” spray painted in white stenciled letters on the side. He dropped down heavily onto the trunk, banging his ankle on the side as he did so, gasping in shock. He squeezed his eyes shut. He wasn’t going to cry, he refused to cry. He was alright, he tried to tell himself, cautiously trying to put some of his weight on his foot before recoiling as the burning pain intensified. He wasn’t alright. 

He’s not sure how long he sat there, his head bowed in a silent prayer to the various Gods he didn’t believe in, his curls falling limp and greasy with sweat over his face, begging for the strength to just get up. The rest of the crew were moving around him, packing up the gear and the stage. He’s not sure where the guys went, everyone having their own post show protocol, their own method for dealing with the come down from the rush of another sold out show well done. Matty himself used to get so high he didn’t exist anymore, at least not on the corporeal plane. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter. He didn’t do that anymore. (He wondered if it would numb the pain in his ankle.)  

“Are you just staying here then?” George asked, a bite to his tone, traces of the fight, the argument they had been having before they had put it aside to take the stage present in his voice. Matty opened his eyes, blinking wetly and looking up at George who seemed to loom over him, his arms crossed over his chest, his body language closed off. He had showered, his hair damp, a wet patch showing on the gray fabric of his tee shirt, clinging to skin that hadn’t been fully dried. Matty was still in his stage clothes, the damp fabric clinging to his dried sweat coated skin giving him a chill. 

He shrugged, he didn’t want to fight with George anymore, even though he was the one that had initiated it that afternoon. Throwing out snide, biting comments, looking for George’s soft underbelly, trying to hit where he knew it would hurt the most, purely so that he could feel something. George had resisted at first, meeting Matty with love and care and sympathy until he eventually, as always, pushed too far and George had snapped. Matty had relished in it before, his blood pumping as he smiled cruelly, getting up in George’s face as George yelled back, giving him everything that he wanted and didn’t know how to ask for. 

Matty swallowed hard, his ankle hurt, he was pretty sure it was broken, and he didn’t want to fight anymore. 

“Not going to say anything?” George asked, his spark still burning, still pushing, looking for the same kind of weakness Matty had exploited earlier. 

Matty just shrugged again, curling in on himself. He didn’t want to fight. He wanted to apologize, he wanted to tell George he was sorry he had started a fight, that he was wrong and hadn’t meant it. He wanted to tell him he loved him, and he was hurting and that he needed him. But if he opened his mouth he was pretty sure that he was going to start crying. He was emotionally and physically worn out. He was scared and he was in pain, he just wanted George to hold him and tell him it was all going to be alright. They were supposed to be packing up and headed to their next tour stop within the hour, traveling overnight to get to the next city. There were twenty seven shows left on this leg of the tour. Matty couldn’t afford to have broken his ankle. 

“Matthew,” said George, his voice so cold, and Matty, already feeling so worn thin, couldn't help it. He opened his mouth to answer, to tell him to fuck off, to apologize, to say absolutely anything, and instead he ended up taking a shaky breath and instantly burst into tears. 

George recoiled, clearly surprised, clearly having thought that Matty was being difficult for the sake of being difficult, not that there was actually something wrong.

“Matty?” he asked cautiously, carefully, glancing around the backstage area as if he would find the cause of Matty’s tears mingling with the trunks and extension cords. “Matty love what’s wrong?” 

“I’m sorry,” Matty said with a hiccup, “I’m sorry I was being a dickhead earlier, and I’m sorry I just fucked up the tour, and I’m just I’m sorry.”

“Fucked up the tour? What are you talking about?” George asked, sitting down carefully next to Matty, gauging his reaction before cautiously wrapping an arm around his trembling shoulders. “And it’s alright, couples fight,” said George softly, pressing a kiss to the side of Matty’s head, all of the fight drained out of him. “I know we’ll get past it.”

“I think I broke my ankle,” said Matty with a sniffle, “I rolled it during the last song and I could feel something pop.” He took a shaky breath, “it really hurts.” 

George stood up, “let me take a look,” he said, moving to kneel down in front of Matty. He made the assumption that it was the left ankle bothering Matty by the cautious way he was holding his leg and reached forward to steady his foot so that he could unlace his converse sneaker. Matty, never one to handle pain well, gasped in surprise and kicked out, hitting George in the chin and causing another pulse of pain to move up his leg. 

George swore, stumbling back as he held onto his face. 

“Fuck,” said Matty with a hiccup, “fuck I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” said George carefully, moving his jaw back and forth, confirming that everything was aligned correctly. He was even more careful this time, his fingers barely ghosting over Matty’s ankle as he unlaced the sneaker, then rolled up his pant leg and carefully removed his sock. He sucked in a breath, not even making a comment about how sweaty Matty had gotten, as he took in how swollen the joint was, and the purple hue that the limb had taken on. 

Matty couldn't bring himself to look at it. “How bad is it?” he asked wetly. If it looked even half as bad as it felt, he knew it wasn’t going to be good. 

“My poor baby,” said George softly, “I’m so sorry.” He paused, “I think you’re right, I think it is broken.” 

Matty just hiccuped wetly in response. 

[cashmerecrow]

Day 31: Jack-O-Lantern

"𝔗𝔯𝔦𝔠𝔨 𝔬𝔯 𝔗𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱"

[ravendruid]

How about: "Squeezing their hand reassuringly and holding their hand throughout an intense social situation" with Vaxleth in any au? ♡

Saying "I Love You" without saying "I Love You" This AU. Happy Thursday, Snake <3

Keyleth looks out the window at the last rays of sunshine setting behind the tall jade walls. The yellows and oranges reflect on the still water of Lake Ywnnlas below, the center point of Syngorn. The snow that fell that morning has long melted away, bringing out nature’s vibrant green colors within the city everywhere she looks. She should be excited for tonight, her first ball within the ancient society of Elves, but she isn’t. On top of her writing desk lies an open letter in Korrin’s familiar handwriting with some of the most devastating news she has received since she has been in Syngorn. 

Dear Keyleth, It pains me to be the bearer of such horrible news so close to the festivities, but I’m sure you will understand. There has been an accident, and my presence is required with our sister tribe in Pyrah, so I will not be able to receive you for Winter’s Crest, nor will I be able to host it this year. Percival and Vex’ahlia will be under the care of Nell, so rest assured they will be in good company. Lord Vessar understood my inability to transport his daughter back home for the festivities and was kind enough to extend a formal invitation for you to stay and attend the Winter’s Crest ball with his family, so I take solace in knowing you will not be alone either. A million apologies, daughter. I know you were looking forward to the Festival of Lights in Zephrah, but, as I understand, Syngorn’s festival is equally, if not more, beautiful. Please enjoy yourself and do not worry about your old man. I will see you soon enough. Never forget how proud I am of you, Keyleth, and how proud your mother would be, too. I miss you dearly every day. Love, Korrin

Keyleth’s blood boils as she looks at her reflection in the mirror. The bodice of the silk-white dress encrusted with tiny sparkling jewels feels so constrictive she can barely breathe, and the silver bracelets she is wearing weigh heavily on her arms. She observes the loose hair that falls in red waves to the middle of her back and remembers the warnings she was given earlier that morning in Syldor’s office. The dress is pretty, for sure, but she hates everything about the way she looks because she hates what it means: subjection.

Syldor warned her that morning that she was to wear her hair down all evening, not acknowledging that the real reason behind it is that Keyleth is a Half-Elf. She hasn’t been in Syngorn for long, but she was quick to find out how much hatred the city has for othlirs, as they call half-elves, always with a look of disdain on their faces. She has felt it in first person at school, on the streets, and even within the family that was supposed to welcome her as their own for the year. Few have been kind to her. Devana, Syldor’s wife, is a kind and an understanding woman whose experience as a cartographer has allowed her to see the world beyond Syngorn’s walls and shape her views of other races. The support and gentleness the woman has extended toward Keyleth often make her wonder what Devana saw in the hateful man she married. Devana and Syldor’s daughter, Velora, is a loved and cared-for happy toddler that giggles and often plays hide and seek with Keyleth. She is still young and doesn’t understand the differences between Keyleth and her, which makes her a great company. Besides, Keyleth loves children, and the little girl’s giggles always manage to brighten her day. 

And then there is Vax’ildan, one half of a pair of twins, whose sister, Vex’ahlia, is in Zeprah, taking Keyleth’s place. Of everyone she has met in Syngorn, Vax is the one she’s the closest to. The two often spend time together, commiserating over the fact that neither of them is welcomed and wanted in the city, although things are even worse for Vax since he is Syldor’s bastard son, and Keyleth only knows this from the multiple times she has heard it being thrown at poor Vax by strangers and familiar faces alike. Keyleth takes solace in knowing he wants to attend this gods forsaken ball as much as she does. At least she will have a friend there. Someone who won’t look at her in disdain. 

There’s a knock on the door, and when Keyleth opens it, her breath catches in her throat. Vax stands on the other side, eyes wide in surprise. He is wearing silvery-white robes with light blue embroidery – which is so unfitting for him compared to the black clothes he wears every day – yet he looks beautiful. Keyleth’s heart aches when she notices his hair is neatly combed but loose down past his shoulders, also covering his ears. It seems like she wasn’t the only one to be warned of the importance of tonight and the consequences of not behaving according to Syngornian customs. There is a moment of hesitation in his eyes, a look Keyleth has seen in the forest animals that wander too close to her small town. A look of fear, of wanting to run away. She can’t blame him. She, too, wants to run away. Maybe they should. Maybe Keyleth should offer him the chance and close her eyes, pretend she hasn’t seen him yet, and allow him to leave and hide in the shadows. She has no doubts that even wearing such light colors, Vax can still make himself invisible. But the moment passes, and the fear and hesitation give room to resignation and sadness.

The silence that sets between them as they walk through the opulent corridors of the mansion is not uncomfortable. They both know what to expect of the night ahead of them, the looks they will receive, the gossip and comments the adults will whisper among each other, thinking Keyleth and Vax can’t hear them because they are just children. Keyleth knows the wheels in Vax’s mind are whirring as fast as they are in hers, and she tries not to panic. The last thing she wants is to give them the satisfaction of knowing how their hatred affects her. 

There is a hand in hers. It is calloused and rough but a warm, welcoming hand nonetheless. Vax interlaces his fingers with Keyleth’s without a word. As they reach the heavy, tall wooden doors of the ballroom, the same ones that have been causing Keyleth so much anxiety and anger for the past week, they share another moment of hesitation. No one has seen them yet. They could still run away, hide in a broom closet for the rest of the night, and no one would even notice. But Vax gently squeezes Keyleth’s hand in reassurance, and she knows that, no matter what’s beyond the stupid doors, she will have him, and he will have her. 

[starkerscoop]

Courting an Omega, Tony Stark-Style has over 1,000 kudos???? I’m in shock but so, so happy. I only just noticed. Thank you to everyone who enjoyed my fic ☺ This is my first time reaching that number! 

[dameronalone]

I think what the "write for yourself" crowd are missing out on is that I DO write for myself, and often. there's shit that's going to sit in documents forever and never be posted because it's for me. but since when did wanting to interact with people become a bad thing?

I used to get more prompts sent to me or even reblogs and interaction when I did post fanfiction on tumblr/ao3 and I promise you my writing was worse then than it is now so it can't be that. I DO write for myself but sometimes I want to share what I write or write what someone wants to read because it's fun and I like that!

but that's not enough these days. the only people who consistently get a lot of interaction are the "popular" blogs (and I'm not saying that's bad or anything because there are always going to be popular blogs) and if you aren't in with that crowd, good luck getting more than 30 notes

especially in the reader x fanfiction circles. it's horrible there, ESPECIALLY if you aren't writing for the popular character of the month. I don't know what changed but something did change significantly. if you aren't writing smut and if you aren't writing for the hottest character around the notes you're going to get are minimal. I posted a poe dameron x reader fic the other day that was dealing with canon stuff and it got like. two notes on tumblr, and a very small amount of kudos/hits on ao3. even the last smut reader fic with a fairly popular oscar osaac character I wrote didn't go far

its just really frustrating as a writer to try so often and get nothing. I reblog prompts and get nothing, I post fic and get nothing, I try to interact with the fandom and get nothing. I DO write for myself but sometimes I want to write for others. but not so much anymore

[sketchy-pebbles]

Hey guys I’m back ;-; thank you for all of the comments y’all left in the tags of all the moon knoghtober posts ;-; y’all make me so happy thank you guys for all your support 🥺

[helloamhere]

I absolutely adore how you wrote multiplicity of powers and Idk if you take any recommendations but I had a dream last night about one direction/ blade runner/ AI crossover and would love for someone to write about this😭😂

This sounds absolutely bomb dot com. I would love a blade runner crossover. In general I feel like all fanfic in all fandoms does not take enough advantage of scifi settings!! Galaxy brain concept, my friend.

[dreamingofep]

💐Send this to someone who is extremely talented and brightens your day!💌

Oh my love this definitely made me smile and made my day a million percent better! 🥹🥹Thank you so so much! You are also so so talented and love everything you do. Keep shining bright 🖤✨