#qpr writing prompts

[loreofthegayuma]

Multiple People Living Together Prompts

1. Superstitions about mirrors facing the door

Character A: why do we still have that mirror there? I thought we decided to get rid of it Character B: no. we agreed that superstitions are bullshit Character A: we did not!! we're supposed to keep that away!! Character C: we NEED an accessible mirror! not all us choose to look shit everyday! *Character A, B, and C argues* Character D: *removes an unimportant painting from the wall then hangs the mirror there as everyone continues to argue* Character E: *walks in the room with the 3 arguing and ignores it to look at where D stands* I LIKE THE NEW PLACEMENT!! Character A, B, C: Character A, B, C: Character B: *fake hurt* you're taking their side, D?! after I gave you my fries last week?!!

2. Bathroom line

Character C (known to take at least 1 hour baths): *shouts to everyone* I'm taking a bath (trying to tell everyone to use the room first before they do) Character A, E: *races each other to the bathroom* Character D (known to also use the bathroom for a slightly longer time): *gets up to follow A and B* Character B: *holds their shoulder* get a number, nerd. (trying to say that they're going first) Character D: *thumbs up*

3. Whose shirt is this?

Character D: *gets in the room holding a shirt* hey, whose top is this? Character C: *sighs* yours Character D: ?!?!! Character C: Character D: Character C: Character D: are... are you sure? Character C (knows everyone's clothes very well and have better memory than D): *tired stare*

4. Why do you know how to do that?

Character A: so how did you know how to do [thing]? autistic reasons? Character D: poverty reasons Character A: *nods* yeah. that'll do it.

[mousy-nona]

If you're still accepting prompts: Lucifer and Alastor are getting closer and closer, and Lucifer makes it clear he's interested in Alastor sexually. Alastor's uninterested in sex with anyone, but goes along with it because he thinks that's what he's supposed to do in a relationship. Lucifer stops when he realizes Alastor's dissociating through the whole thing.

They fell together like a storm. Furiously, without regard for those who might be caught in it. It started with a few raindrops – a few petty insults here and there, nothing too serious. But before they knew it, they had graduated to psy-ops (oh dear, your favorite duck is gone? You must learn to take better care of your things!), campaigns of terror that sent the residents of the hotel fleeing for cover, and full-on fist fights.

And finally, during one of those fights, they found the eye of the storm: an accidental brush of the lips. So quick, so innocent. Easy to brush off as if nothing had happened. 

But Lucifer found his heart was beating so fast it felt like a buzzing in his ears, and he knew he had found the truth of it. The reason why Alastor’s presence was like a perpetual itch he couldn’t scratch. Why he couldn’t take his eyes off of the demon whenever he was in the room. 

So he kissed him again (furiously) and Alastor had kissed him back (tentatively). 

Things didn’t change much after that. But Lucifer found himself making excuses to touch him, his fingers trailing a second or two longer on his chest when he grabbed his shirt during a fight, or lingering at his back when he pushed him out of the way. There were more of those sweeter moments too – cups of coffee shared in silence as they watched the morning sun rise over Pentagram City, reading together in front of the fire when everyone else had gone to bed, Alastor making biting (but helpful) comments as Lucifer glanced over the agenda for the annual Hell Assembly. Lucifer started moving some of the stuff from his workshop to Alastor’s studio, and when Alastor worked on his script for his next radio show, Lucifer would tinker with his experiments. And Alastor only got a little mad when he accidentally set the curtains on fire. 

They fell together so naturally that Lucifer didn’t even realize he had fallen in love until he found himself making Alastor a cup of coffee just the way Alastor liked it – black as sin, with cinammon sprinkled in – and he turned around to find Alastor had made him a cup just the way Lucifer liked it – a healthy splash of milk with five sugars. It was automatic, a thoughtless habit born of a hundred mornings where they’d done the exact same thing. 

“What?” Alastor asked.

“I’d like to keep you forever.” 

“What?” Alastor repeated.

“I love you, you idiot.” 

Alastor didn’t say it back for several weeks. Lucifer tried not to let it affect him, because love was freely given and Alastor didn’t have any obligation to love him the same, but Lord in Heaven it hurt. Were the rumors true? Was he really heartless? 

Then one night, when Lucifer was bent over a particularly difficult blueprint, he found the room had gone eerily silent. He glanced over at Alastor, who, instead of studying the current events in Hell for his latest broadcast, was staring at him with an intensity that made him nervous.

“What do you want?” 

Alastor melted into the shadows, and reappeared inches away. 

“Alastor, what in the world–” 

“Hush.” Alastor pressed the very edge of his claw against his mouth. “That’s quite enough out of you. I’m trying to concentrate.”

On what? Lucifer thought. 

Suddenly, Alastor leaned forward, and their lips met. It was just as delicious as the last time, and Lucifer felt himself melting into the kiss. Then Alastor’s tongue prodded against his lips, asking for entrance. Lucifer gave it, letting out an embarrassing moan as the taste of smoke and freshly roasted coffee and the barest hint of spice invaded his mind. He pushed forward, toppling them both onto the ground as his hand brushed against the hem of Alastor’s shirt. 

And Alastor, for his part, did…nothing. He didn’t touch him back, but he didn’t push him away either. Lucifer took that as a win and brushed his fingers across the bare, smooth skin of Alastor’s stomach. 

Alastor stiffened, his muscles locking in place. Lucifer glanced up, breaking their kiss. “Is everything okay?” He asked gently. 

Alastor’s expression was as unfathomable as the deep, but he nodded. “I thought I told you not to talk.”

Lucifer frowned. “Are you sure–” 

Alastor leapt forward, their mouths crashing into each other again. “Don’t. Talk.” He hissed in between desperate, ragged breaths. Lucifer groaned and resumed his exploration, running his hands up and down the hard planes of Alastor’s chest, his broad shoulders, his thin waist, his hard hips – so different from Lilith’s voluptuous curves, but different was good. His pulse fluttered like a bird’s as he reached for Alastor’s belt and started tugging. 

“Alastor,” he moaned, arching up to see if Alastor was feeling as good as he was – and abruptly stopped moving.

Alastor looked…empty. Far away. His eyes were like glass marbles, staring past and through Lucifer into the quiet darkness beyond.

Lucifer hissed and jerked away. Alastor stirred, as if rousing himself from a deep sleep. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” Lucifer nearly snarled. “If you hated it, you should have told me! You didn’t need to put yourself through this!” A bitter taste filled his mouth. His hands felt dirty somehow, and he held them behind his back, as if that would somehow make them both forget what had just happened.

“I don’t hate it,” Alastor insisted.

“Liar, liar, pants on fire.” 

“It wasn’t terrible,” he amended.

“Fantastic,” Lucifer groaned. “I’m just going to – I’ll just see myself out, shall I?” He tried to escape to the safety of his room, but Alastor’s hand wrapped around his wrist, holding him tightly in place. 

“But this is what people do, isn’t it?” He huffed, his strange red eyes gleaming with an emotion that Lucifer had never seen on him before. “When you–” He broke off, as if he couldn’t quite make himself say it. “When they’re like us,” he finally finished. 

“Like us?” Understanding hit him like a lightning strike. “Oh. Alastor, did you do all this because I told you I loved you?”

“And I…feel similarly for you,” he choked out, looking like he was contemplating jumping out the window while he said it. “And people who feel this way –” 

“Alastor, this is you and me.” Gently, so as not to scare him away, Lucifer held his hand and pressed it to his heart. “When have we ever done things the way other people do? That’s the beauty of relationships – we can write our own rules, and to hell with what other people might think. Besides, we’re not exactly the conventional couple. I think I hate you almost as much as I love you. And now I know you love me too. You put your own comfort aside to try and make us work.” He swallowed, running his finger along Alastor’s sharp jawline. A love he hadn’t known since the Fall filled his spirit, and the room lit up with a gentle golden glow. “Thank you.” 

The relief emanating from Alastor was nearly palpable. He swallowed, then wrapped his hand around Lucifer’s. “One small correction.” 

“What’s that?”

“I think I hate you more than I love you.” 

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Of course you do. Tacky prick."

"It takes one to know one."

[letters-unsending]

No. 43

////

Henchman x Scientist x Villain in small snippets

////

“I would lay down my life for you, my lord.”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t, [Henchman].” Villain glanced up from their papers. “You signed off on any life debts when you took this job. It’d be a poor investment.”

////

“While I appreciate your dedication and obvious drive toward the task at hand, there is no reason to continue with such…vigor.” Villain stood at the entrance to Scientist’s office. Their desk was rife with paper, coffee cups and tangled wires—a fire risk that’d he’d address at a later date—and Scientist worked overtop the mess, hands never stopping as they turned to acknowledge Villain.

“Yes, yes, it’s quite late isn’t it? I’ll be closing shop soon, I promise, but while you’re here, do you mind testing this out?” Scientist grabbed a device from a drawer and presented it to Villain.

Villain eyed the curve of metal, gleaming darkly in Scientists palm. “On the condition that you go home and get some rest.”

“You drive a hard bargain, boss.” Scientist laughed, skin crinkling at the edges of their tired eyes. “Now, come here.”

////

“Surely, this is unnecessary,” Villain argued as Scientist combed back his hair. They’d added gel and the brush tugged at his scalp.

“Supervillain is strict on presentation.” Henchman muttered, holding up a tie against Villain’s chest, assessing the color. He brought up another and squinted.

“The red one will do just fine, darling.” Scientist paused, leaning over Villain’s shoulder to assess the options. Villain blinked as Scientist kept their hand on his temple and reached with their other hand to feel the fabric of the tie, running their thumb over the textured pattern. “He always looks rather dashing in red, wouldn’t you agree?”

Henchman raised a brow at Scientist as Villain straightened in his seat.

“Yes, it’s a quite shame we don’t see that red suit of yours anymore, [Villain].”

“It’s an impractical color for subterfuge.” Villain breathed a sigh of relief as Scientist shifted back and resumed focus on his hair. “And the heroes have favored the color as of late. I would like to prevent any misconceptions.”

////

“You two are supposed to be on holiday.”

“We are.” Henchman raised two steaming tins and a wrapped plate. “Just came in to visit.”

They were both red in their cheeks and noses, and wrapped in thick coats. Scientist worked their scarf off their neck and slung it over Villain’s armor stand.

“I gave you time off,” Villain insisted as Henchman set the food on Villain’s counter, “time to visit your friends and family. You don’t have—you’re not obligated to spend your vacation here.”

Scientist sighed and worked their gloves off. Humming a tune, Henchman drifted past Scientist and patted Villain on the shoulder; his hand still carried the warmth of the trays. “Come on, let’s eat before the food gets cold.”

Once they’d both taken off their winter gear, they settled down at the cramped table in Villain’s kitchen and talked about Scientist’s most recent invention. Villain chewed on something spicy and gum-achingly sweet as Henchman tried to decode Scientist’s mathematical ramblings into words Villain could comprehend.

////

“[Villain], dear, would you pass me that book?” Scientist called.

Villain almost bumped into the shelf as he turned toward Henchman. “That must’ve been meant for you.”

“I don’t have a book.” Henchman smiled, waving his empty hands.

Villain stared as Henchman for a beat, then gazed at the book in his hand, then looked at Henchman once more before swiveling around and passing the book into Scientist’s waiting grasp. Scientist smiled at him in thanks and returned to frantically penning down their latest theorem.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Villain turned back to Henchman. “They must be really focused.”

“Certainly, dear.” Henchman assured.

[qwertycake]

more qpr fluffy squishy platonic writing prompts! wahoo!! part two!!! :)

Same disclaimer applies as my first post - these are aro- and ace-spec centric, may only work for shortform fiction, and feel free to tweak them to be less specific/more specific to specific characters.

Specific is a weird word lol

Anyways…

“We both get caught out in the rain and wait out the weather under the same shelter, and either we’re meeting for the first time or we have a nice excuse to hang out together” AU

“You annotate a book for me and I annotate it right back for you, and we keep passing the book back and forth until its a mess of affectionate scribbles that we keep on the coffee table” AU

"It's hot outside and you love the heat but I hate it and you're being stupidly nice and sweet to me while I'm a grouchy mess" AU

"I can teach you how to play this instrument if you stop DISTRACTING ME by looking so ENDEARING AND INFATUATED" AU

"Keep Talking And Nobody Explodes" AU

"We're both too tired to take care of ourselves because of sickness/work/school/whatever but we immediately find the energy to take care of one another via making tea and grabbing blankets" AU

"We trade clothes for Halloween and do terrible impersonations of one another" AU

"We have a bunch of unfinished craft projects between the two of us and decide to just... finish them all in one day... 24 itty-bitty hours... oh boy..." AU

"We recreate a terrible low-budget movie together" AU

"On Valentine's Day, we decide to make a bunch of garlic bread and cake, and buy each other flowers in the colours of our respective aro-/ace-spec flags... and then the day after, we buy all the chocolate that's finally gone on sale" AU

“I teach you how to do make-up because for one reason or another you’re unfamiliar with it” AU

“Fake dating and having dramatic break ups over silly things in public for shits and giggles” AU

“So, the world might have just ended… so guess who has two thumbs and a bunker that desperately could use a roommate?” AU

“We’re made to play seven minutes in heaven at a party and after a few awkward minutes of silence we both decide to just order a pizza or something while we wait out the seven minutes” AU

“Hey, you can dance, and I can’t, teach me— no, I don’t care that I’ve got two left feet, teach me!” AU

“We’re both artists, maybe of different skill levels, and we decide to draw/paint/make art of each other” AU

“I’m a night owl and you’re more of a day person, so whenever we stop texting because you have to go to bed, I’m stuck laying awake thinking about you Please Enjoy Waking Up To A Bunch Of Messages” AU

“I’m a day person and you’re more of a night owl but I struggle to fall asleep because I’m stuck thinking about how lucky I am to be your friend Hey I Think I Could Stay Up For An Extra Ten Minutes” AU

“We’re both nervous about going to the gym alone so we try going together… but neither of us have the guts to get out of the car so we just go for a walk or something instead” AU

“You’re super into sports and exercise and I’m just getting into it but you hype me up so I’m less nervous about getting started” AU

“I bake a whole bunch, you cook big meals… at the same time of day - our kitchen is chaos” AU

“It’s New Year’s Eve and we’re hanging out at a party and everyone’s speculating that we’re gonna have our New Year’s Kiss together but the New Year comes and we just do a weird handshake” AU

“Non-Fatal Hanahaki Disease AU where we’re some of the few people who don’t experience it because we’re content with whatever non-romantic thing we have together… but we both have hay fever and are very annoyed by the constant barrage of flower petals around us and have to tell our friends to Please Stop Crushing On The Random Barista At Starbucks It’s The Third Time This Week You Are KILLING US” AU

“We’re both alien test subjects who’ve never met before and have to try and plan our escape - bonus points if the aliens are specifically testing for something like amatonormative like All Humans Fall In Love and we’re the black swans of the research since they apparently abducted Only Romantic Allosexuals Aside From Us Somehow” AU

“It’s midnight and you show up on my doorstep unannounced after a long while of us drifting apart, what on earth happened?” AU

“We’re both capable of granting wishes - you’re the monkey’s paw and I’m the guy who’s stuck remedying all the messed up things you have happen to people What Is Wrong With You” AU

And finally…

“I’m laying on the couch at a party drunk/high/exhausted/whatever and you’re looking after me, having only met me that night - I proceed to ramble about how embarrassed I’ll be when I’m older and think back to how I made a fool of myself in front of someone I wanted to be friends with really badly… but luckily for me, you’re flattered that I think you’re super cool” AU

[cassidysinferno]

snippet #2 — constantly rotting

CW — depressed / burnt out henchman , bed rotting , mentioning of medications, dissociating

Henchman hasn't picked up any of the calls from the Villain lately and dear god, Villain was displeased.

And for a good reason, Henchman was the most trusted out of all henchmen in the organization with how well they perform and how they had stayed with the villain since the beginning.

so, how did it all change? They showed up less and less ever since That incident, even if Villain had called or visited them, they didn't have the energy to get out of their bed- their boss being unhappy with their lack of presence was reasonable.

all they do is rot in bed. constantly felt like they were only wasting their years.

Hell, Henchman doesn't even have enough money to live anymore so not only were they on the brink of getting fired or even considering retirement at this point but also getting kicked out of their own apartment.

This is stupid.

They were unemployed in their personal life and even if they did show up at work again, they felt nothing but guilt as others started to talk to them less or try to avoid them ever since. They didn't even know what they did wrong?

so every conversation they tried to take part in felt awkward because of that.

They looked around their room, everything was..a mess.

They sat up on their bed, looking down at their scar filled arms. Why are they even willing to devote themselves to a criminal, thus risking their own life?

many thoughts ran to their head until their phone started to ring again. another daily call from their boss, apparently.

they let it ring until it hung up on itself, while waiting so they finally got up, put on their uniform, and got ready.

if they had remembered correctly, they were called for a personal meeting upon stepping in the building.

And if Henchman was being honest, they were anxious. but at this point, do they even care what would happen to them? no.

–

Well, that didn't go well. for the henchman, at least.

It felt like a counseling session rather than a meeting and it took them back to when they were in highschool.

back to when they got so fucked up that they got sent to therapy and put into medications.

the villain was..worried, yet displeased. they not only had known each other for awhile on the job but they've also been close.

fuck, they felt even more terrible after they were dismissed. going back here was a mistake.

They were ordered to organize more paperworks and, even if the villain didn't say it directly, they didn't want to disappoint the villain even further so they got to work.

Now here they are, printing copies of the documents the villain gave, I mean, most of the time they were dissociating anyway.

nothing felt real at this point, they felt extremely disconnected from their body. almost as if their own body doesn't belong to them.

they wanted to go back rotting in their room again but it seemed like it wasn't an option now that they were here.

they were just staring at the printer as the machine does its thing, well, at least their body is. they didn't seem to hear the knocking on the door of their little office the villain provided them until they felt a tap on their shoulder.

[ohwell-itsme-but-danganronpa]

Phineas & Ferb AU

(Originally posted in The Saiou Lounge discord server, May 2022, "Literally just woke up and my brain was like "Let's assign v3 characters roles in a Phineas&Ferb AU" while I was changing clothes. So let's go")

the main duo is Kokichi and Kaito, at first I thought to make Kaito Phineas because he's more social, but the next thought I had was: Shuichi is Isabella so I switched it

so Kaito is mostly non-verbal like Ferb but ask him about space and.

(And he can also belt out songs) added by VendedHum

Cadence is Kaede, it's not the best fit, but listen, after a bit of adjusting: she's just worried about her little brothers, and sometimes has enough of it when construction work sounds from the backyard interrupt her piano practice

but it made finding a fit for Jeremy easier, it's Rantaro and instead of one devil-incarnate younger sister he has 12 and the younger they are the more against Kaede they are, so like the two eldest are actually chill about it, the next 3 just ignore her, but then there's 7 devils

Baljeet & Buford are Kiibo and Miu

technically, since Shu is Isabella and therefore in boy scouts instead of girl scouts, Miu is the only girl in the friend group but like, she's my Buford, find a better one if you can

she's a honorary boy because she ate a bug. She would.

there's no other girls in the neighborhood, she was desperate to make friends, Miu would do many things to make people like her, the fact that even wiki describes him as "a nice person with a tough guy attitude" makes me think she's a good fit for the role

and Maki is Vanessa

and Stacy (Cadence Kaede's best friend) can be Kirumi ig

Tsumugi can be Carl the Intern as a treat

[abcprompts]

QPR prompts

because why romance when queer platonic?

scenarios:

X reading a bedtime story and Y falling asleep in their arms

X being romance-repulsed and Y being alloro, and the two of them communicating and figuring out something that works for both of them

X and Y discussing whether to (or how to) ask Z to join their QPR

X and Y getting married (queerplatonically), and laughing as they write their vows side by side, making fun of romantic cliches

dialogues:

"this doesn't feel quite... right, does it? This romance thing?"

"there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about"

"can I touch you here? or here? how about here?"

"no, they don't like me like that. yes, I'm sure"

"I love you so so much, but please never do that again"

I want what they have

feel free to use, with or without tagging me!

[wwdits-kink-meme]

i would love to see a day in the life of the baron and the sire and all their little mutant babies. equally interested in a qpr situation or a description of whatever kind of strange nasty monster sex they are having, dealers choice!

-

[huasnowies]

The real QPR experience is when your relationship too close to the point people mistake you as couple

[out-of-context-aro-ace]

Aroace prompts/tropes

Sincerely believe a neurodivergent writer must have X number of WIPs as a rule. One WIP is completed and then another must take its place.

Anyway,

Was making a poll for aroace tropes we'd like to see but thought of more than 10 options :/

In no way is this a guarantee that I will ever write on this blog (though the idea or writing specifically aro/ace is growing on me), but I'm curious what aroace tropes I've seen or thought about that other people like

I'm biased towards #heroes and villains tropes as you can see below lol

Here you go :P

Enemies to queer platonic partners

Learning about and coming to embrace your aroaceness

MC knows they're aroace, is comfortable, and living their best life with their identity - literally just slice of life, doing whatever they want

Flirty vs aroace

Oblivious aroace vs smitten

Enemies to crusher confessing to rejection to non-romantic friends who bicker like a married couple

Enemies to friends

Hate confessions, archnemesis proposals, BFF = Best Fiend/Frenemy Forever

Goofy aroace hero/villain living their best goofiest life and no one flirts with them

Aroace hero/villain who likes flirting and flustering villains/heroes

Aroace hero/villain who has had it and murders/beats up people who "flirt" crudely with them

Crusher confesses to aroace, they remain friends

Above but crusher never falls out of love but is happy with their relationship

MC is aroace and is minding their own business but people keep falling for them left and right but they don't know or care and it's just about those other people vying for their affections in the background

MC is cursed which can only be broken with true love's kiss

Big Bad tries to put a true love's kiss curse, but aroace so doesn't work so plan's a failure. Original.

Big Bad casts a spell so everyone falls asleep including people's true loves. So now it's only aroace person. And maybe Big Bad. Original.

Soulmates (derogatory) or soul-hates. Original.

Partners without dating by @/puddleslimewrites

[apfelpi-old-account]

aros, aces, aroaces and everyone else who fits in other places i have come up with an idea for a media piece it would be called "lovers, not romantics" things to consider in plot? (not necessary except for the first one) - both parties are aro/ace/aroace - doesn't have to know theyre aro/ace/aroace at first - people try to flirt with either party - the realization moment of being aro/ace/aroace - the confusion of liking someone without being romantically attracted - representation on qpr's !!! - show how things generally associated with romance dont have to be romantic!!!!!!!!! anyways do as you please with this :)

<3

(please reblog i want to see if people have ideasss)

[invisibleraven]

Oooh, scooby doo au with the combo of your choice!

Luke grinned as the Phantom-Mobile pulled up in front of the abandoned looking club. "Alright gang, we've got to see if we can find this ghost that is driving away all of nice Mr. Covington's customers."

"If you ask me," Alex said, as he triple checked their supplies, "Mr. Covington did not seem all that nice."

"Nu-uh," chorused Willie. "Totally not nice."

"It's like chill man," Reggie said, tossing a few more snacks into Alex's bag when he wasn't looking. "We don't have to like the dude to help him out or accept his money."

"Reggie's right," Julie said with a nod. "We get in, we find out what's really happening, we get out, we get paid-"

"We fund our demo!" Luke finished. "Let's go Phantoms!"

Look, it wasn't their fault that Mr. Covington thought their band was a group of exorcist's, given their name, but money was money when gigs had dried up and jobs were slow. None of them really believed in ghosts, so they figured it was just some disgruntled employee out to stop the business in it's tracks.

They crept into the club, which was dark, and hitting the light switch did little to illuminate the situation, given the bulbs had gone dead for the most part. "Yeesh, I thought this place was supposed to be swanky," Alex said with a whistle as he lifted a streak of dust with his finger.

"I suppose cleaning isn't high on your priority list when you've got a poltergeist," Julie said with a shrug.

"A whater-geist?" Willie asked.

"Ghost man, keep up," Reggie replied. "Gestalt entity, spectre, spirit. I know all the lingo."

"You hang out with Carlos too much," Julie said with a fond eye roll.

"Not my fault the little dude looks up to me!" Reggie repled.

"And we all love that he does but I think you guys bickering has effectively scared everything but the spiders away!" Luke hissed. "Trying to get paid remember?"

Then they saw it-a white figure off in the distance. The creak and groan of stairs, a moan, a rattle of chains.

"Can we like, make like a tree and leave?" Reggie asked.

"Shush dude," Alex cautioned. "It's probably more afraid of you than you are of it."

"I thought there was no such thing as ghosts," Julie said, a tremble of fear in her voice.

"That's witches," Willie replied.

"So we're not going with witch," Luke nodded resolutely. He nodded towards the figure. "Let's gp."

"Are you crazy?" Alex whispered. "We're not equipped to deal with an actual phantom!"

"It's probably some homeless guy squatting here who's trying to stake his claim," Luke replied.

"I say we let squatter's rights stand then," Reggie said. "We all know how tough it is to sleep rough."

"We don't get paid that way, unfortunately," Julie said, reaching out to squeeze his hand, then nodded to Luke.

"Alright boss, let's go." LUke crept closer, and then tackled the spirit. Only he went through the image, almost landing on the projector that was displaying the image.

"Ha, told you there was nothing to be scared of!" Alex crowed.

"Now we have to find out who turned it on," Willie replied, the rest of them gulping rather audibly.

The rest of their trek was a rather twisty turny maze, including a corridor of rooms that all seemed to lead back to one another, until finally they found a dark figure in the control booth.

Willie and Reggie circled him in rope, while Alex called the cops and Julie looked around to turn off any more projectors and on the lights.

Luke approached the figure, who was wearing a large rubber mask. "Now let's see who's really behind this whole thing." He pulled off the mask to reveal...

"Mr. Covington?" the group chorused.

"I almost had this place as a tax write off you fools!" he scowled. "You weren't supposed to actually come, just take the money. And I would have gotten away with it if it weren't for you meddling kids!"

"Well, crime doesn't pay," Luke replied. "But we will be sending you our bill."

Everyone rolled their eyes at that, and laughed. Well, everyone except Mr. Covington that it, who just groaned. But no one could blame him-it was a truly awful joke. Thanks goodness that wasn't Luke's forte.

But hey, maybe if this music thing didn't work out, they could actually go into ghost hunting?

[qpr-prompts]

Prompt Sub!!

---

Character A and Character B put a record on and have a little dance to a song, it's an intimate and quiet moment, and Character A- not knowing how to express their feelings- kisses B. They'd pull away and realize it's not for them, and B just laughs about their shared little awkward experience.

-qpr-prompts

[yersina]

If you have the time, there’s this no powers soulmate AU idea that I have. In a regular world, where everyone has a red string around their finger, that connects to their soulmate at first contact, Han Yoojin has a pink string. Anyway, I think it’d be funny if regular construction worker hyj got stuck together to CEO/stupidly rich Sung Hyunjae by the hot pink string forcing them to be around each other, and all the fights and funny things that happen because of it. Neither of them can catch a break, and I think it’d be hilarious.

(I headcanon Han Yoohyun as aromantic, so in this AU he doesn’t have a string, but idk how relevant it it would be if you decided to write it)

Yoojin doesn’t actually figure out what the strings mean until he’s out of high school, because for a long time there doesn’t seem to be any pattern to them. His own dark blue string connects him to Yoohyun, but not all of the siblings in his classes have the same string. Sometimes, he sees a golden thread connecting a classmate with their parents, but neither he nor Yoohyun have any tying them to their own. He sees red strings most commonly, which sometimes connect parents or married couples, but sometimes the strings lead away from the person’s spouse. Not a single person who boasts that they’re dating in his class has a red string that connects them to their significant other of the week.

Yoojin hasn’t seen anyone with a bright pink string like his, either.

Despite the ambiguity, though, he does work out a few rules:

Strings that float off into nothingness and disappear a foot or two away from someone’s body means that they haven’t met the person on the other side yet. The entirety of Yoohyun’s string stays visible no matter how far away Yoohyun goes, but even when his end of the pink string bobs and moves, it never seems to point anywhere specific.

The whole string materializes when the people on the two ends touch. It doesn’t have to be skin-to-skin contact—as far as Yoojin can tell, it’s more about the symbolism of the meeting than the actual touch.

The color of the string is related to the relationship. Yoojin hasn’t worked out all of the colors yet, but he knows the blue string connecting him and Yoohyun has to be for siblings. Gold seems to be parental and red is romantic, but there are other, rarer colors that Yoojin still has yet to puzzle through.

For a while, Yoojin worries about Yoohyun’s lack of strings. Yoojin is already at the low end with only two, and Yoohyun has even less than him. But Yoohyun never seems to be worried about it, even when Yoojin tells him about the strings, and Yoojin gradually stops asking. Maybe Yoohyun is happiest with his one string, and whatever being is tying the strings between people got it right for him.

He does wonder, sometimes, what the pink string means for him. He doesn’t trust the red strings, not really, not when one tied his parents together and didn’t leave room for a single golden thread between them and him or Yoohyun. But the pink… Maybe it’s something better.

-

Yoojin boards the bus that’ll take him home, squeezing in between the people already on board until he finds a space around the middle of the bus, standing next to a row of seats.

He’s prepared to spend the ride staring out of the window like he usually does, watching the blur of buildings and trees pass by outside, but this time, when he lifts his head, his eyes catch on the strings tied to his pinky finger. More importantly, his eyes trace the pink one, which no longer drifts off into space like it used to.

Instead, it’s attached to the man in front of him.

What.

Yoojin stares in disbelief at the businessman sitting in the seat in front of him, pale hair slicked back perfectly and dressed in a neat and obviously expensive suit, even to Yoojin’s inexperienced eye. A leather briefcase is propped up in his lap and Yoojin is pretty sure that the watch he spies on the man’s wrist costs more than Yoojin’s monthly rent.

Their shoes are touching.

Yoojin has never seen a person that he is more convinced doesn’t belong in his life. How is Yoojin connected to this man? The whole idea seems absurd.

For the first time, Yoojin doubts the accuracy of the strings.

“Can I help you?” Yoojin winces. Apparently his staring has caught the attention of the man.

“I—” His breath catches in his throat as he abruptly becomes overwhelmingly aware that this is his chance to get to know the person on the other end of his string. This person, who wears uncomfortably expensive clothes, looks proper and put together in a way that Yoojin will never be able to manage, and looks like he hasn’t done a second of menial tasks in his life. “No, sorry. Excuse me.”

He dips his head hastily in apology and spends the rest of the bus ride staring out of one of the windows to his right, refusing to take a single glance at the man. He thinks he might feel a gaze on his face during the ride, but the man never speaks up, and Yoojin steps off the bus at his stop, convinced that he’ll never see the man ever again.

-

“No, you don’t understand, he was wearing a suit,” Yoojin emphasizes. “Can you imagine me with someone wearing a suit?”

“Hyung.” Yoohyun’s exasperation is loud even over the phone. “I wear suits.”

“Yeah, but that’s different.” Yoojin tests the ripeness of a tomato carefully. Hm. He sets that one down and picks another one up. “I look at you and all I see is the kid who used to pick his nose and wipe it on my shirt.”

“Hyung!”

“It’s true! My clothes went through the wash at least twice as often as yours did because of it.” Yoojin puts the third tomato in his basket and moves on to the green onions.

“Hyung, that’s not true.”

“You can’t tell me it’s not true because you never did the laundry.” Yoojin manages to browse through the selection of green onions and make his pick without a single word from Yoohyun. “See, you know I’m right so you’re not saying anything.”

“No, I’m speechless from how wrong you are.”

“You just won’t admit it—” Yoojin’s attention snags on the way his pink string suddenly jumps in the air, pulling taut just in time for the businessman to walk through the sliding doors of the grocery store.

“Hyung?”

Yoojin turns his back to the door, heart pounding. “He’s here,” he hisses.

“Who’s there?”

“The guy!”

“What guy?”

Yoojin groans. “I’ll call you back.”

Yoohyun hums a note of confused agreement. “Talk to you later, hyung.”

Yoojin ends the call right as the businessman joins him near the produce. The businessman is still dressed too formally—he isn’t wearing a suit jacket anymore, but Yoojin doesn’t know anyone who would wear a dress shirt and slacks to poke through the green peppers available at the nearest grocery store.

Whether it’s out of innocent or morbid curiosity, Yoojin stays rooted in his spot, watching the man pick up a cucumber and turn it in the fluorescent lighting like it’s a scientific specimen. “That’s not how you’re supposed to do it,” he can’t help but say when it looks like the man is about to put a bruised zucchini into his basket.

The man turns to him, eyebrow raised. “Oh?”

Yoojin, cursing himself all the while, reaches over and points at a scratch in the skin of the zucchini. “It’ll go bad more quickly if you choose one with scratches. Also, it’s better if you pick one with shinier skin.” Yoojin inspects the available zucchini quickly and picks one that he’d buy for himself. “See, this one is better.” He presents the zucchini to the man.

The businessman slowly puts the one in his hand back on the shelf and reaches out to take Yoojin’s. “Thank you,” he says. Yoojin feels the brush of the man’s fingers against his palm down to his bones.

“If you want to buy good cucumbers, you should choose the ones that are more firm,” he adds, not sure what else to say. He subtly shakes his hand out by his side, trying to rid himself of the lingering sensation of fingertips on his skin.

Thankfully, the smile growing on the man’s face pulls his attention away from his hand. It’s the kind of smile that people use when they’re trying to hide amusement, and Yoojin’s hackles automatically rise at the thought. “This fellow customer has been so helpful,” he says amicably, tucking the zucchini that Yoojin handed him into his basket. “Perhaps you’d be willing to help me with the rest of my groceries as well?”

Yoojin makes a face. “I have my own things to shop for.”

“Then we can accompany each other.”

“There’s no need—”

“Where do you suppose the aisle with noodles is?”

His pink string is, Yoojin finds, a complete asshole.

Unfortunately, Yoojin can’t figure out a proper excuse before the man begins herding him in the direction of the opposite side of the store, so he resigns himself to his fate. “You’re going in the wrong direction,” he says once they pass the noodle aisle.

The man hums with interest. “Am I?”

Yoojin revises his assessment. His pink string is actually insane.

The man ends up dragging him down the sauce aisle. Yoojin leaves him to stare blankly at the array of soy sauce while he grabs another container of gochujang and a bottle of rice syrup. Yoojin watches him stare at the shelves of bottles for a very amusing twenty seconds before reaching out and snagging the brand that he uses at home. “Here,” he says, pressing the bottle into the man’s hands. This time, it leaves less sparks. “Have you never cooked before?”

“Knowing how to cook and shopping for ingredients seem to be two different skills.”

Yoojin snorts before he can stop himself. “This ahjussi is good at talking around the topic. Whatever he means, he should say.”

The raised eyebrow is back. “And this customer isn’t very polite to his fellow customers.”

“The other customer was impolite first, so it seems both are at fault.”

The man rolls his shoulders in an aborted shrug, like it’s true but he can’t be bothered to acknowledge it. “What is this impolite customer’s name?” The interest in his expression feels genuine.

“If that’s what you want to know, then you should give your own.”

“I’m Sung Hyunjae,” the man says easily, though the way he looks expectantly at Yoojin afterwards makes Yoojin think that he should recognize the name.

“I’m Han Yoojin,” he says, despite the very Yoohyun-like voice inside him that says he shouldn’t give his name to strangers that he’s known for all of two minutes.

“Would Han Yoojin-ssi like to help me choose a bag of somyeon to buy as well?”

And Yoojin should say ‘no’ and continue with his own grocery shopping, but he feels the incorporeal weight of the string around his finger and finds himself saying, “Will Sung Hyunjae-ssi be able to choose without my assistance?” instead.

Sung Hyunjae smiles.

When they go to check out, Yoojin finds out that Sung Hyunjae already paid for his groceries when he goes to hand over his card. “That was unnecessary,” he protests once he’s caught up to Sung Hyunjae at the entrance.

Sung Hyunjae hardly even blinks. “What if I wanted to pay for Han Yoojin-ssi?”

“It’s still unnecessary.”

“Then see it as someone paying for their junior.”

Yoojin pauses. “Should I call you hyung, then?” he says, trying not to laugh. It feels unwieldy and informal in his mouth, and even without asking, he knows that Sung Hyunjae would agree.

“Let’s get closer first,” he says, as expected.

Yoojin chooses not to linger over the choice of words—when are they ever going to meet again?—and instead nods politely to Sung Hyunjae. “Thank you for your assistance today,” he says, even though he was the one to help Sung Hyunjae choose his items and having him pay for Yoojin’s groceries felt more like a favor to the other man than himself.

“It was my pleasure.”

Yoojin leaves Sung Hyunjae at his car and heads towards the bus stop, doing his best to convince himself not to look back as he walks away.

(He gives in eventually while he waits at the bus stop, watching the pink string bob and shift as Sung Hyunjae drives back to wherever he must live. It’s much more active than it ever had been before, and unfortunately just as attention-grabbing and annoying as the person it’s connected to.

Maybe that’s what the pink color stands for, Yoojin thinks wryly as he boards the bus. Annoyance.)

-

Yoojin really, really expects to never see Sung Hyunjae again. Seoul is a big city, and it looks like they run in completely different circles. Why would he ever meet the man again?

Unfortunately, Sung Hyungjae does not seem to have gotten this memo.

“Ah, Yoojin-gun,” Sung Hyunjae greets when he steps up to the counter. He’s wearing his full business suit again, and Yoojin has a brief flash of worry that his workplace is near this coffee shop. Will he have to see Sung Hyunjae all the time from now on?

Yoojin shoves this impending spiral to the side in favor of giving Sung Hyunjae a dry look. “If Sung Hyunjae-ssi will call me Yoojin-gun, then I will continue to call him ahjussi.”

Sung Hyunjae, the bastard, just smiles. “Would you prefer Yoojin-ah?”

Yoojin can’t help the shudder that runs down his spine, face twisting like he just took a bite of a lemon. Coupled with that expression… “Yoojin-gun is fine,” he says reluctantly. “What does ahjussi want to drink?”

Sung Hyunjae just orders a black coffee, which seems terribly in-character for him. “Does Sung Hyunjae-ssi not have a coffee maker to make coffee for himself at home?” Yoojin asks, handing Sung Hyunjae’s card back to him and beginning the incredibly arduous task of filling a travel cup with coffee that has already been brewed.

Sung Hyunjae follows him around the counter. “Either way, I’m here to see Yoojin-gun, of course.”

Yoojin frowns. Sung Hyunjae would’ve had no idea that Yoojin works here, if this is his first time visiting the coffee shop. Has Yoojin just not seen him?

He fits a lid over the cup and hands it over to Sung Hyunjae. “Have you been here before?” he asks curiously. It’s possible that he came in during a rush hour and Yoojin just didn’t have time to register who he was, though that seems unlikely.

Sung Hyunjae smiles and takes the coffee. “No. Thank you for the coffee, Yoojin-gun. I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”

Yoojin frowns at Sung Hyunjae’s retreating back. Surely he’s just imagining how foreboding that sounded.

-

“No.” Yoojin stops in his tracks and gapes.

Sung Hyungjae waves. “Hello, Yoojin-gun.”

“You—” Yoojin looks around wildly, not sure what he’s expecting to see, but it’s still just the walking path next to the Han River that he was strolling along before, and still just Sung Hyunjae sitting on a bench to the side of that path. “Are you stalking me?”

“Why would I stalk Yoojin-gun?”

“That’s the question I should ask my stalker.”

“I’ll wait here until you’ve contacted them.”

“Then I’ll ask again: why are you here, Sung Hyunjae-ssi?”

Sung Hyunjae just smiles. Yoojin wonders how he always manages to make the expression so that it perfectly gets on Yoojin’s nerves. “I’m just here to enjoy a walk along the river.” It’s a completely reasonable explanation, but somehow Yoojin doesn’t believe him. “It would be more enjoyable if I could join Yoojin-gun.”

Yoojin doesn’t even pause to think about it. “No.” He spins on his heel and heads back the way he came, never mind the fact that he really did come out here to take a walk.

Walks can happen any time. Avoiding Sung Hyunjae takes priority.

-

A week later, Yoojin spots Sung Hyunjae standing outside of a high-rise building, looking down at his phone.

Yoojin crosses to the other side of the road.

-

“No,” he whispers to himself, looking in through the window of the coffee shop he was prepared to step into, and resigns himself to going without caffeine for the morning.

-

“I cannot believe you.” Yoojin frowns at Sung Hyunjae.

They’re back on a bus.

He resolutely does not make conversation for the entire, twenty minute commute to the stop that he gets off at. He also resolutely does not look at Sung Hyunjae, who, based on what Yoojin can see out of the corner of his eye, spends that time smiling at Yoojin.

He does see a young woman sneaking peeks at the handsome businessman sitting a few seats down from her and wishes that he could live in her blissful ignorance.

-

“So you’ve never spoken?” Yoohyun frowns and puts a hand out for the bowl of cut potatoes that Yoojin passes to him for the pot of doenjang jjigae simmering on the stove.

“We spoke once,” Yoojin corrects. “Twice, if you count the coffee shop. Wait, three…?” But do any of those meetings really count as talking to Sung Hyunjae?

“And you know for certain that he’s the one who’s connected to you?”

Yoojin shakes his hand at Yoohyun even though he can’t see the string dangling from his pinky. “It’s hard to miss.” It’s actually rather eye-catching when Yoojin is standing next to Sung Hyunjae, since it contrasts so sharply with the man’s entire look.

Yoohyun shoves Yoojin’s hand out of his face with an exasperated look. “Fine, fine. I just thought I’d ask. Can you get the eggs from the fridge while I cut the mushrooms?”

Yoojin does as he asks, grabbing the container of gyeran jangjorim and bringing it over to the table where they’ll be eating. “Like I said, I see him around everywhere, but I don’t want to talk to someone I don’t know.”

“You don’t know anything about him, then?”

“He’s probably rich,” Yoojin says, wrinkling his nose. “He said that his name is Sung Hyunjae. He drinks his coffee black.”

Yoohyun stops in the middle of putting mushrooms in the pan to turn around and stare at him. “Sung Hyunjae?”

“Yes?”

“You’re sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Yoojin impatiently gestures for him to turn back to the stove. “Yah, Yoohyun-ah, if you have something to say, just say it.”

Yoohyun slowly turns back around and gives the mushrooms a few half-hearted swipes. “Hyung, if you’re right, the Sung Hyunjae that I’m thinking of might be one of the richest men in Korea. Top one hundred, at least.”

That can’t be right. “He rides the bus,” Yoojin points out reasonably.

Yoohyun gives him a look. “Rich people can’t ride the bus?”

“Why would they?” Sung Hyunjae does seem like the type to have a chauffeur drive him around everywhere. It fits his arrogant, handsome chaebol look.

“Hyung, can you…?” Yoohyun gestures vaguely to the pan before raising his phone. “I’ll see if I can pull up a picture of him.”

Yoojin sets his hands on his hips in indignation. “You’re asking your brother, the person who raised you, so rudely?”

“That only worked on me the first two times you did it,” Yoohyun says, raising an eyebrow. “Eventually you have to run out of ways to guilt me into doing things for you.” Yoojin keeps staring. Yoohyun sighs. “Hyung, could you please make sure the mushrooms don’t burn while I look up this person to help you?”

“Sure, Yoohyun-ah.”

Yoohyun snorts and steps to the side so Yoojin can take over at the stove. “Whoa, he has a lot of overseas investments, apparently,” he hears Yoohyun mutter after a few moments. “Mostly in technology—oh, here we go.” He tilts the phone in Yoojin’s direction. “Is this him?”

Yoojin’s not sure what he was expecting when he looks over at Yoohyun’s phone, but it’s still not a professional picture of the same man who may or may not have been stalking him for the past month. “Huh. Yes, that’s him.” He returns to cooking the beoseot bokkeum, but for some reason, the only thought that runs through his head at that moment is that the Sung Hyunjae he saw once in the grocery store, sleeves pushed up to his elbows and looking confusedly at the shelves of soy sauce, looks much better than the one that smirks at him through the screen of Yoohyun’s phone.

Yoohyun elbows him out of the way of the stove so he can begin adding seasonings to the pan. “You said that you’ve never seen a thread in the color that you’re connected with before?”

“Pretty much.” He has seen the pink before once or twice, but it’s hard to tell what it might mean when it connects two strangers. He catches Yoohyun’s concerned look and shoves him gently on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it so much, Yoohyun-ah. Let’s focus on dinner, okay?”

If his current track record with Sung Hyunjae is any indication, he’ll be forced to figure it out soon anyway.

-

When Yoojin next spots Sung Hyunjae at a crosswalk intersection, the most he can muster is a deep sigh of resignation. “I’ve seen Sung Hyunjae-ssi more often than my own brother recently,” Yoojin says, waving to him in greeting. It’s somehow reassuring to see Sung Hyunjae look equally startled to see him this time, rather than infuriatingly smug. Of course, his version of startled is a delicate raise of both eyebrows rather than just one, but Yoojin takes it as a victory.

“Yoojin-gun,” he greets. Unfortunately, Yoojin has no other option than to join him at the crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. “Yoojin-gun does seem like an older brother type.”

Yoojin eyes the man next to him and tries to imagine him with any siblings. Not any younger siblings, surely, but perhaps one that’s older? Though the thought of Sung Hyunjae calling anyone hyung or noona… “Sung Hyunjae-ssi is an only child,” he declares.

“Yoojin-gun seems very confident about this.”

Yoojin is, strangely. “Yes.”

“Hm,” Sung Hyunjae hums. “I have a sister who’s older by thirteen years.”

“Do you?”

“Certainly.”

Yoojin narrows his eyes at Sung Hyunjae’s guileless expression. “Sung Hyunjae-ssi doesn’t have any siblings,” he decides.

The light changes. “My sister will be so disappointed to hear this when I tell her,” Sung Hyunjae says mildly as they cross the street.

“Sung Hyunjae-ssi shouldn’t lie to strangers.”

“Yoojin-gun is so cold for calling me a stranger when he said himself that he sees me more often than his brother.”

“Don’t make up strange meanings to my words, ahjussi. I can always just look up the real answer on Naver.” Once they reach the other side of the crosswalk, Yoojin takes two steps before he realizes that no one is following him. “Oh, are you headed somewhere else, then?”

Sung Hyunjae’s pause lasts for another second before a corner of his lips lifts. “The best place for me to be is by Yoojin-gun’s side.” It’s a statement, but there’s a question buried beneath it as well.

Yoojin throws his hands up in surrender. Perhaps if he and Sung Hyunjae get sick of each other, the universe will grow tired of pushing them together. “Fine. Fine! If you do anything suspicious, I will call the police,” he threatens. “I’m going to go eat dinner at that restaurant over there. Come on.”

The dinner, surprisingly, goes no worse than any of their other interactions. Sung Hyunjae, in his collared shirt and slacks, should look out of place amongst the worn tables and chairs of the family restaurant that Yoojin and Yoohyun have been going to since they were children, but instead he looks… comfortable. Softer.

Yoojin glances down at his string once during the dinner, throat crawling with some thick, unnamed emotion. It’s still there, swaying gently in the air between them.

Maybe he can give Sung Hyunjae a chance. Maybe there’s something more to their chance meetings, a reason why the string connects them.

When he looks up again, there’s a there’s a split second where he’s convinced that Sung Hyunjae’s eyes are unerringly trained on the base of Yoojin’s pinky where the string is tied, but between one blink and the next, he has his infuriating smile plastered back in his face and Yoojin uneasily brushes it off as his own mistake or a trick of the light.

Strange.

“Ahjussi,” he says once they’ve finished their food. “You’ll be paying, right?”

“I should get something in return for paying for Yoojin-gun so often, shouldn’t I?” Despite his words, though, Sung Hyunjae puts down his card without waiting for a promise.

“Sung Hyunjae-ssi seems like he has the money to spare.”

“Is Yoojin-gun so confident that he’s what I prefer to spend my money on?”

“I trust that Sung Hyunjae-ssi is polite enough to pay for the person in need in front of him instead of waiting to purchase another unnecessary accessory.”

“Yoojin-gun should be my next accessory, then.”

Yoojin makes a face. “What nonsense is this ahjussi saying?” Is he just an item to this rich person? Thankfully, one of the restaurant employees interrupts to return Sung Hyunjae’s card and that line of conversation is dropped.

Yoojin takes a deep breath once they step out of the restaurant, feeling like there might be something different, something changed in the air. The sun is just starting to set on the horizon, and the rays of golden light reflecting off of metal and glass are equal parts warming and blinding.

“I’ll see Yoojin-gun again, hm?” Sung Hyunjae hums, turned away from the direction that Yoojin will be going. He still doesn’t know anything about Sung Hyunjae, much less have his contact information, but he believes it. He’ll have time to unravel all of this man’s mysteries in the future.

They’ll meet again.

“See you, Hyunjae-ssi.”

[qwertycake]

cute squishy platonic otp prompts :) very fluffy and good smiley face

FOUND THESE ABANDONED IN MY NOTES FROM 2021! Some of these are very specific so feel free to alter them to suit your situation/tastes. Some of these are more targeted towards the mundane “imagine this” scenarios which aren’t great for writing an extended piece about but they can still get your creative juices flowing. These are all geared towards platonic and squishy, but I suppose they could be used in other contexts too. Enjoy!

“You’re very good at that instrument, Person A, but please put it away it’s two in the fucking morning” AU

“We went out to stargaze but you keep saying that every cluster of stars is Orion’s belt and I’m starting to think you’re trying to impress me with the astrology knowledge that you don’t have” AU

“You walked into our house/apartment/whatever sopping wet from the rain because you forgot your umbrella, here’s a towel and I’m making hot chocolate by the way let’s watch movies” AU

“That’s a cute bouquet and all but why are the neighbours’ gardens barren” AU

“We’re playing smash bros together on the couch and I’m teaching you to play and you kick my ass and the worst part is that I wasn’t letting you win” AU

“The party’s over and we now have a ton of helium filled balloons hey what if we drank the helium and prank called people come on you know you want to” AU

“We went to a rocky beach and now have a rucksack full of cool rocks that we’re never gonna use” AU

“Look I know it’s two in the morning— hey stop asking how I got in your room that’s not important— I need you to make a Hot Wheels track with me” AU

“We both keep dream journals and are sharing our weird dreams” AU

“We’re performers waiting outside the venue because we’re tired of the loud noise and need a breather, also hey is your group also going to the McDonalds afterwards? I’ll see you there” AU

“We’re camping and a random dog/cat just waltzed up to our tent and we don’t know where their owner is so we have to take care of it in a really small space oh my god” AU

“We’re both isakaied away into another world but you became a cool mage and I’m just Some Dude” AU

“We’ve been trying to get this goddamn plushy from a grabbing machine for literal hours to the point where we broke it and the poor worker, person C, just walked up and unlocked the chamber and gave us the plushy out of pity” AU

“We’re at a library and I’m intimidated because everyone looks super stoic and serious but then you waltz up to me with a kids encyclopaedia of dinosaurs and ask me which one’s my favourite” AU

“We’re having a snowball fight but we both can use insanely powerful magic and end up wrecking havoc on the whole area” AU

“Oh your winter clothes got wet, here have my hat and gloves I don’t feel cold— in fact you know what let me warm your hands for you, give em here” AU

“I’m driving us home from the airport/ferry port/whatever and its late and we end up falling asleep in the car park of a service station. You wake up before me and buy me service station food for a three in the morning breakfast and it’s really sweet until we realise that we still have an hour to go before we’re home ugh” AU

“Can you catch the bus with me I’ve never caught it before and I need to get used to it” AU

“We’re astronauts and we’re going into space together and it’s really scary but you’re pissing me off already and we’ve barely gotten ready for launch fuck” AU

“We both crash landed from a plane into a woodland and are staying in an abandoned shack and chatting over a can of warming beans” AU

“We’re in control of making the new universe and we can’t agree on anything stop putting cat ears on the humans and take this seriously goddammit” AU

“I work at a drycleaners and you’ve been bringing your bodypillow/ahaego hoodie/whatever here for the past three days and I just want to know why please you’re killing me” AU

“There’s only one bed but we actually get gradually more pissed off at one another as the night goes on because you kicked me and I took the blanket and whatever until I cave and sleep on the couch, but you make me breakfast in the morning so all is forgiven” AU

“You look depressed here have a bathbomb go have a bath I insist do you want wine” AU

“You’ve never made a pizza from scratch before? Here let me show you how” AU

“You’ve never played hop scotch before? Here let me show you in public” AU

“You’ve never built a death ray before? Here let me show you— hey hold on stop screaming it’s pointed away from you it’s pointed away” AU

“Mario Maker: Endless Easy” AU

“Whenever we go out to eat you always tell the staff that it’s my birthday when it isn’t and I always get happy birthday sung to me and I hate you now pass me that slice of cake goddammit” AU

[hylianengineer]

I’ve been trying to force myself to write fluff lately, because I thought it might help with my depression. It’s going... weird. Why is fluff so hard to write? I can do brief scenes and conversations okay but then the plot threads abandon me. Possibly because it’s fluff without plot. Maybe I just need practice. Like, a lot of it.