#this is very exciting eeee

[happi-tree]

Happy Wip Wednesday! Swiftli Week is less than a week away (ack!!!)

This is a little sneak peek for March 4th's prompt (Angel + Demon / Hot + Cold / Fantasy AU), which it takes place in the same universe as (i will) stay for you ⚔️👑 Looks like there might be some,,, knight terrors,,, in this one.

Plain text under the cut!

Slowly, gently, he brings his hand from Lincoln’s shoulder and up the side of his neck, tilting his face in his palm to force their eyes to meet.

“You’re alright,” Taylor repeats, more firmly. “You are safe.” Then, hedging a guess, “I am safe. I’m right here, I’m not leaving.”

It takes a moment for Lincoln to make sense of what he sees, but in the space of a few heartbeats, his eyes focus upon him, and something within him seems to snap.

“You’re real?” He asks, voice hoarse and wrecked and near-childlike, and heat builds at the corners of Taylor’s eyes.

“Yes,” he breathes. “Yes, Link, I’m real, I’m here, you’re with me. No ill has befallen me.”

Link’s hand rises toward Taylor, outstretched, and wavers mere inches from his face, its fingers trembling something fierce.

Taylor takes it in his grasp, brings it gently to rest upon the side of his own face, and feels he may cry at the sound of his knight’s relieved sigh.

“Oh, my sweet prince,” Lincoln murmurs, voice and hand shaking in equal fervor as his calloused thumb strokes weakly along his cheek. “I thought - I thought I lost -”

Taylor lets the tears fall.

“You haven’t,” he replies. “You won’t. Not ever.”

“You - you know you cannot promise me that,” Lincoln says, and even with the syllables stretched out between sniffles, the notion is every bit as infuriatingly Lincoln as it always has been.

[revelisms]

Excerpt: Ghost Stories

Mel and Elora set out for answers.

From 'a drop of venom in your gin,' a work-in-progress Western AU centered on Mel and Sevika.

"Copperhead?" mutters Mel from her disgruntled velvet corner, where she sits draped head-to-foot in white—a rare sight of prestige, in these parts.

The carriage her assistant had brokered her seemed hellbent on convincing them to turn back, with every hour crossed west. She'd been nursing a headache since they'd left the Piltover Bridge, five days ago; the horrid contraption clobbered over every rut and rock in sight.

"Indeed," Elora huffs, bracing one palm upon the carriage's panelling. The tassels stapled to the awning lurch into a jovial thwack. "My word. In—in any case, there has been a suggestion that she is....in charge, so to speak—"

"Kino made no mention of a woman." Mel laces her hands firmly in her lap, brushes her thumb over the golden ring at her finger. "I'd have known. If he was working under any, I'd have—"

"Councillor." Silence elks uncomfortably between them. "If I may," Elora continues, quietly, "we know very little of the situation."

For minutes, Mel studies the red earth that stretches bland and endless beyond the carriage's windows. The view comes as much a strange comfort as a pit of dread within her. 

"I am familiar with these territories, Elora. The sheriff and I are well-acquainted." Gold glints beneath her twisting nail, and stills. "And I have heard no word of this. Nothing. This—it is highly unusual."

"Could your brother have been—" The carriage batters over a sequence of broken stones. "Well. It's just—there has been word, you know, in the Council—"

"If this is about the dust, I want to hear nothing of it."

"It's become quite the lucrative trade."

"It's vile." A set of black-varnished nails click stiffly upon the door's handle. "He would have had no part in it."

Elora lifts her chin, stares silently at the dry brush that thistles past the panes. Mel knows her discomfort comes partly from her dress: the lace has laid an incessant itch, for hours. Her throat swivels against it, now. "The traders call it shimmer. It may be worth looking into, is all."

An impulse to smile cuts across Mel's mouth. She stamps it down. "And this...Copperhead. She's running it, then?"

"Not a runner, no. But there is a connection."

"To the trade, at large?" Another jitter of Mel's fingers. "A hunter, then," she gravels. "And, pray tell—who employs her?"

Now, her assistant's discomfort comes bone-deep: nothing to do with her clothes. "From what I've heard," she murmurs, "a man who is supposed to be dead."

Mel does smile, then: a lax crook at one side. "Ghost stories." She reclines back into her seat, hands laced. "Take my advice, Elora—don't get too excited." Her eyes trail over the silhouette of a town blazing on the horizon. "There's a dime a dozen of those, here." 

[chronicowboy]

also. have carefully curated probably my favourite gift i've ever given for my girlfriend's birthday tehehe

[tea-earl-grey]

very exciting news that i spent half an hour with a cat today and i didn't get any allergy symptoms!!!! I've done almost 8 months of allergy shots and this is when you're supposed to first start seeing results so fingers crossed!

[polkadotplayhouse]

patpatpatpat... duz th book yu readin hav a audio book somwere? or a vidyo uv sumwun readin it??? thas kinda like a storybook... wud tha hewp??

:0! hai!! umm yeah, it probably does, but I gotta take notes on it, and that's what's bothering me :3 I'm gonna get it done of course! but I will NOT be happy about it >:P heehee! at least I've got my stuffies n my sippy n sunset here to sit with me until I finish!!!

[prestonmonterey]

oh yea i should do tlt updates shouldnt i

ok i will today if i remember to take pictures of the set before rehearsal (bc people are doin stuff on stage and i don wanna take pictures of ppl without their permission)

[thornshadowwolf]

KEVIN KELM / TRIGGUR EMAILED ME!!!!!!!!!!!!

[seductive-snail]

HOLY FUCKING SHIT GUYS

[saturnaous]

they call me. someone who is quite really normally excited about this coming out today. and not at all collecting a. bunch of things until it does.

[comas-are-for-sleeping]

sometimes life is about listening to early 2000s techno music and then getting excited when you hear thunder, opening the blinds, nose almost pressing the window hoping to see lightning. the sky flashes and you know true happiness

[ephemaera]

@pierprincess liked for a starter from ben mears!

the second they lock eyes, ben feels it. the familiar chill across his skin, the sense that something is amiss. he prepares himself for the wave of dread, that feeling of spectral walls closing in... but it doesn't come. this girl is a vampire, he's certain of it. but there's something else–– something different.

she'd said something about telling his future. the boardwalk is thronged with people; just a few victims could proliferate into hundreds. "how much?"

[shiitb4lls]

@cardiffsfinest : “i’m fine!! i’m independent!! i don’t need you!!” from owen : ̗̀➛ always sunny starter sentences, accepting.

i can't help but let a frown tug at the corners of my lips. why was it that folks always had such a difficult time working with me ?? suppose there must be some level of insecurity at play, not wanting some hot shot detective to waltz in and mess everything up. but that wasn't the case, never was, honest. i was just here to do my job and assist the best that i could.

hands raise in faux-surrender, palms facing the other. "someone with independence still requires assistance from time to time." i state plainly, tone cool as i hold my ground. it's not like either of us had much of a choice in the matter, we were assigned to work together. "believe you me, the last thing i wanna do is be a bother and get in your way doctor harper." i say honestly, hands lowering and sliding into the pockets of my suit jacket. "like it or not we are gonna be workin' together these next few days. i'd appreciate your cooperation."

[goodheartt]

@nefariuus ft. skunk & benny.

"shit, man ..." skunk mumbles, hand now sticking out through the pocket of his jean jacket. damn thing got a hole in the pocket, which means his lighter is missing. cigarette is drawn from behind his ear, clearing his throat to get the others attention. "... look, hate t' be that guy but like ... my fuckin' lighter is missin' and if i don't smoke this ciggy right now i'm gonna fuckin' lose my mind. y' wouldn't happen t' have a lighter on ya, would ya ??"

[moomee-troll]

OH MY GOD @andreandkarl IS STILL UPDATING. LIFE IS WORTH LIVING.

[breezeflows]

The Long Road (Stanford Pines x Reader)

Summary: You’ve finally set out to finalize your divorce with Stanford Pines after seemingly “moving on”. But what will happen when you seek him out and he’s nowhere to be found? Time to pack your bags and head out to your once hometown, Gravity Falls, to find out.

_____________________________________

EEEE it’s finally here!! This is by far one of my favorite fics I’ve ever made, and I’m stoked to work on it more in the future!!

Thank you everyone so much for the support so far, and a huge thank you to my sister for always supporting me and my works!

THEMES: Angst (this chapter is honestly kind of sad), (LOTS OF YEARNING BECAUSE READER AND FORD DONT KNOW HOW TO EXPRESS THEIR FEELINGS), Arguments, Emotional Conflict and mentions of Divorce :,)

With that being said, enjoy the first chapter of The Long Road!

Chapter 1

A soft sigh escapes you as you drive through the windy backroads of Oregon, a sense of familiarity and nostalgia filling you with each tree you pass. Autumn was finally in motion, bright colored leaves falling from the trees and coating the grounds below in a warm, yet damp, glow.

It was your favorite time of year, but you wished you could be visiting your once-hometown on different circumstances. The papers labeled: "DIVORCE AGREEMENT" flapped gently in your passenger seat as you glanced down at them, the chilly air seeping in through the cracked windows of your car.

 You were headed towards Gravity Falls, a town you once held near and dear to your heart. It was the place you and your former husband, Stanford Pines, had moved to after the two of you got married. It was everything you wanted, small, quiet, and isolated. Ford even had a cabin built for both of you out in the woods, and although some of the designs were questionable, you didn't mind a single bit. You were just happy to be alongside him. You had known him almost your whole life, practically growing up alongside him and his brother, Stanley, who he had eventually cut off all contact with after Stanley practically stomped on Ford's chance at a lifetime opportunity in high school. (womp womp)

Regardless though, everything was perfect, until it wasn't.

Ford always had a thing for the supernatural, and you knew that. After all it was one of the things that had drawn the both of you to this town. He had intelligence beyond comprehension, and it was one of the many traits you admired about him. You supported him and his work, always helping where you could or if you were given the chance. Whether it was chasing pesky eye-bats or bringing him a hot cup of coffee to keep him caffeinated during his late-night lab sessions, you were always there for him, even when he was engrossed in his studies and missing from your shared bed. Your unwavering support never faltered, not until Ford came clean to you about some sort of "Muse." He described him as a powerful interdimensional being, one that went by the name of Bill Cipher.

"He is truly a force to be reckoned with, Y/N. His unparalleled knowledge is unlike anything I've ever encountered, and he holds the key to improving the very fabric of our world. His power is crucial in unlocking newfound potential for our realm and beyond. He is the reason why I must keep moving forward."

Ford spoke excitedly as he cupped your cheek with one hand, the other resting firm, but gently on your shoulder.

You remembered the determination in his eyes, and the eagerness in his tone. Although you on the other hand, were less than thrilled. Your heart sunk at his words, and though you wanted to be excited for your husband, the concern you felt for him was overpowering as realization set in. The weird window designs in the cabin, the tapestries covered with curtains, it was all making sense. Your husband practically worshipped this thing, and it bothered you.

The night ended with conflict; you explained to Ford how you trusted him deeply, but his Muse? Not so much. It all just seemed too good to be true. Not to mention how it felt like a punch in the gut that Bill was his motivation to push forward in his studies, but not you.

One disagreement led to another, and Ford eventually found all his time spent down in the lab while you remained upstairs. You no longer brought him coffee or kept him company while he worked. The two of you had grown distant, and while it felt as though your heart was ripping in two, Ford never showed the same concern. Hell, you barely even saw him nowadays. The only times he’d emerge from the lab was to grab more coffee filters for the machine, which was soon moved downstairs. He no longer returned to your shared bed on late nights, opting to sleep downstairs in the lab instead. He was practically a ghost now.

You exhaled gently through your nose as you sat at your shared dining table, the fresh cup of tea you prepared swirling with wisps of steam that fogged up your glasses. It was early morning, and the sun was just beginning to rise in the sky, casting the room in a warm glow. You hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, tossing and turning with reoccurring nightmares that plagued your mind. They didn’t make any sense to you. They started out with a blue flash, followed by a yellow flash, and always ended with you and Ford finally calling things off with a bad argument. You presumed the last part of your dream was there due to your constant worrying that that was the direction your relationship was headed. Either way it troubled you deeply. At this rate things weren’t going to end well, it only being a matter of time before one of you snapped.

You’re pulled from your thoughts as you hear a familiar pair of footsteps making their way up the creaky steps, the noise echoing quietly through the house. Part of you wants to retreat to your bedroom, contemplating if you’re ready to have an encounter with him this early in the morning. It’s been a week since you guys’ last crossed paths, and you barely managed to maintain eye contact with him the last time. Your stomach churns with anxiety, and your fingers tighten around the handle of the mug filled with lukewarm tea. Suddenly, movement in your peripheral snaps you out of your thoughts, your vision glued to the liquid before you. Ford steps into the doorway of the kitchen, seemingly taken back by the sight of you there. You slowly turn your gaze towards him as he stands in the doorway, his face partly shadowed in the dim lighting of the room. He stands a few feet away from you as his eyes study you intently, as if he’s searching for something. There’s an air of fatigue about him, evident in the bags beneath his eyes and the disheveled state of his usually tidy appearance. He seems to hesitate for a moment before finally speaking as he steps forward, his voice low and rough from the lack of use. “Good morning.”

A mix of emotions stir in you as you take in his appearance, a pang of concern in your chest at the sight of his exhaustion. A small part of you wants to reach out and comfort him, but the distance that’s grown between you over the past few weeks makes you hesitate, resulting in you replying with a simple, “Good morning.” your tone neutral.

Ford then moves to take a seat at the table across from you, his fingers drumming against the wood in what seems like a nervous gesture. He looks at you intently before speaking, his voice slightly strained. “I wanted to inform you that Fiddleford will be coming to stay for a while, to help me with my research. I’ve been working on something big, something I cannot do alone.”

Your gaze softens at the mention of your old friend from college, someone you and Ford had spent a lot of time with. Back in those days you always had two cups of coffee on hand, never just one.

“I see...” Your vision retracts back to the mug as a sense of betrayal fills you. Did Ford feel as if he couldn’t come to you for help anymore? Did he just not care? Your grip tightens as you speak once more.

“Is that all you came up here for?”

Ford notices the subtle change in your tone and the way you avoid his gaze. There’s a pang of guilt in his chest as he notices your reaction, but he pushes it aside, reminding himself that this is for the greater good.

“No, that’s not all,” he says, his voice slightly softer. “I also wanted to talk to you about… us.”

You’re unable to hold back a frown as your stomach sinks, still avoiding his gaze. You manage to hold back tears at the mention of what you assume is going to be a very hard conversation. “Oh.”

Ford notices the tears welling up in your eyes, and his heart aches from the sight. But he pushes on, knowing this conversation needs to happen.

“I know things have been… rocky between us lately,” he continues, choosing his words carefully. “I know I haven’t been around much, and I’m sorry for that. But I want to talk about what’s been going on.”

You bite the inside of your lip as your fists clench, the tears welled up in your eyes now threatening to spill over as you finally meet his gaze.

“What do you mean things have just “been rocky” Ford? I feel like I’ve been living with a ghost for the past month!” Your voice betrays you as you speak, revealing your hurt. “And now you’re reaching out to someone we haven’t seen in literal years for help instead of your own wife?”

Ford’s heart sinks as he sees the tears welling up in your eyes and hears the hurt in your voice. He knew he had been distant, but hearing you say it out loud was like a shot to the chest. He flinches at your words, and guilt washes over him.

“I… I know I’ve been distant, Y/N. And I’m sorry,” he starts. “But the research I’m working on… it’s important. It’s bigger than the both of us. I need someone with specific skills and knowledge that you may not have.”

The wound in your heart deepens as you stand from your chair, the legs of it screeching against the wood as it’s scooted back. You point a finger towards him harshly as the tears brimming in your eyes begin to spill.

“But what about us Ford? Our relationship? Is it not important to you anymore? I barely see you now!”

His heart sinks even further as he sees the hurt and vulnerability in your eyes. He feels like he’s been slapped as you point a finger at him and ask him why he’s been isolating himself.

“Of course our relationship is important to me,” he protests. “I love you, Y/N, more than anything. But this research, it’s something I need to do…” he pauses a moment, before speaking again.

“It’s bigger than our relationship.”

Ford runs a hand through his messy hair, frustration and regret evident on his face as you stand there. Words fail to come out of you as you stand there, trying to process the words that just shattered your fragile heart. He wants to apologize, to take back his words and soothe your pain, but his research was too important to him.

“Y/N, please don’t cry…” Ford pleads as he stands, reaching a hand towards you. The hand rests softly against your arm as you tremble, your attempt at hiding your pain feeble.

“I wish things could be different, but this research is my life’s work. It’s all I’ve been working towards for decades.”

You remain tense and quiet as you keep your gaze down towards the table, the silence so thick you could hear your own tears hit the wood below. Although a sudden knock at the door breaks the tense silence between you both, and Ford turns his head to look towards the door. He hesitates for a moment, torn between continuing the conversation with you and attending to Fiddleford’s arrival. He glances back at you, seeing the tears still streaming down your cheeks and he feels a pang of guilt in his heart. But he pushes it aside, knowing that once again, his research takes priority.

“I’d better get the door..” he mutters as his hand slips softly from your shoulder, making his way to the front door of your shared home. You slouch back into the chair, defeated, as you raise a shaky fist to your mouth. Your tears seem to be unending as you sit there, lost in thought even after the front door creaks open. Ford and Fiddleford’s voices echo throughout the halls as they make their way to what sounds like the entrance of the lab.

“Is Y/N here? I’d love to see her.”

“Uh, no she’s uh… out in town, at the moment.”

This was going to be a rough couple of months.

RAHHH thank you so much for reading the first chapter of this fic! Please feel free to leave your thoughts and comments, I’d love any feedback!!💕

[phlurrii]

:Prev: | :Next:

Eeee very excited to get this one out, but I’m happy to announce Mewtwo’s official name! Odysseus! I’ve had this in mind for… a while, don’t remember how long, we’ve all just been calling him Ody behind the scenes for months XD

For those who know the story of the odyssey, please keep in mind names are taken from the ideas, characteristics, and parallels, of these characters, not their direct story. Also congrats to all those who figured out Odysseus’s name early when I started tagging relevant posts! Very well done ;3c