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noritoshiikamo · 4 years

Text

this is how you fall in love

pairing: kuroo tetsuroo + fem!oc genre: friends into lovers fluff with slight suggestive end tags//warning: nothing major // slight suggestive at the end if you squint enough note: the obligatory trio of mine: not well edited, lowercase intended, english isnt my first language im sorry if i murder it. o wow look ive been posting back to back, ive been writing nonstop lately watch me ghost my stories in few weeks guys my brain = rotting, plus lately ive been feeling emotionally abuseddrained so i need something fluffy

listen to this is how you fall in love by jeremy zucker + chelsea cutler for maximum feels

“you’re a lifesaver.”

kuroo huffed, eyes rolling back with a small laugh as he unlaced his sneakers and slipped the room slipper on. it was odd to see the gymnasium without any nets or balls sprawled around. the gym has been closed for a week now in preparation for the upcoming open school event and currently under the art club’s jurisdiction. under her jurisdiction with her canvases and paints and it pained him to see her ruining his sacred place. he carried two plastic bags and holding two boba teas in the same hand. he wasn’t sure which one she was more excited for; the boba, the paints she made him ran to an art supply shop or him. she reached out, the bobas in his hand exchanged as she settled it on the floor, and she squealed at the sight of the plastic bag. he frowned.

yup, not him.

tins of different colors of paint that she ran out mid painting that she forgot to buy had her dialing his number and now it’s all here. all thanks to kuroo tetsuro. she grimaced at the price tags; it was costly than her usual one. usually, she would’ve gotten her supplies online, but desperate measure calls for desperate solution. she could always claim her expenses with the club. typical kuroo, she huffed. he always preached about getting the best, not minding the price tags but she’ll be the victim of his nonstop complaining that he’s getting broke every single day. she tucked a stray hair back and mentally counted how much she owed the man as she arranged the tins on the table.

kuroo noticed that look; same look she had when they are in the math class and he clicked his tongue, “tch, you’re not paying.”

“i’m reimbursing you with the club money,” she shook her head and reached for her bag, “please kuroo, it’s so expensive.”

he reached for her wrist and she dropped the tote bag as he invaded her space. kuroo rested the palm of her hand right above his heart, his own around the waist and another under her chin as he tilted her chin up. his heartbeat was erratic, and she flushed. “it’s okay,” he said, softly. her lips formed into a small pout and he fought the urge to just kiss her.

their dynamic is something even kenma couldn’t figure it out.

they weren’t exactly dating. they are friends, close friends, and classmates. it has always been him, her and occasionally yaku; creating the chaotic duo/trio of class 5. they both played volleyballs, both captains while he’s the middle blocker, she’s their female team’s setter. they knew a lot of each other’s friends from other schools; he was the reason why she dated akaashi keiji from the first place. it was selfish of kuroo to admit to bokuto a month after they started dating that he disliked the idea of them together. typical kuroo is no longer snarky, he felt lost, felt like he was losing his other half. so, he confided to his close friend, the simpleton ace.

“you didn’t make any moves, kuroo, you can’t blame them.”

bokuto noted as them both stared at the two setters, playing around the fallen cherry blossoms. bokuto never seen akaashi smiled that much and kuroo could only wished that she smiled the same way to him. kuroo stared at the half bitten onigiri he’d been holding, suddenly every bite he took tasted bitter. every trace of akaashi on her gave him bitter taste. she liked wearing akaashi’s jersey; kuroo longed to see her in his own numbered jersey; she’s his number one after all. her own jersey number is as same as akaashi. it’s not like kuroo could hate anything he did; he treated her well. akaashi was a perfect boyfriend and everyone knew. that’s why kuroo hates him; he gave him no reason to hate the dude. it didn’t last long however, they drifted apart 6 months later, sending her to kuroo’s doorstep soaked in rain.

he stared at her soaked figure with no thoughts in mind.

“he dumped me,” she said, voice hoarse and shivering.

he was alone and was about to leave for kenma’s, but he couldn’t leave her alone. dropping his keys on the small table by the door, he threw his jacket back in the closet. “come in,” he whispered, pulling her figure in. dropping her bag on the floor, she clutched on his sleeves as she kicked off her soaking shoes. “i’m sorry, my mom isn’t home and i can’t find my keys,” she was a blabbering mess and he hushed her. he left her for a few minutes, coming back with a steaming towel and a clean shirt and pants. “it’s from the dryer. you can borrow my sister’s clothes,” grabbing her hands, they ran upstairs where he took her to the bathroom. she was too quiet, so he called her name. when she looked up to him, her eyes were red. she was no longer crying, more confused and upset. her cheeks flushed and he could see her teeth chattering. he wished nothing but to throw his fist at the man. finally, he got a reason to square up the stoic man; he always hates the way nothing could riled up akaashi.

“he’s stupid for doing you like this.”

she shook her head, “it’s nobody’s fault.”

“then stop blaming yourself,” he ruffled her hair, a small smile appeared from the corner of her lips as she watched him disappeared closing the door behind him. he left her with the hot water running, urgently grabbing the mop and bucket from the kitchen, and wiping the trail of her soaked feet has left before it could ruin the wooden floor.

cant come over, busy, ill tell u later

kuroo texted kenma. the pudding head left him on read.

they spend the night together, sitting on the floor with pillows pilling against the end of the bed as they sat in arms. he had his tv opened to one of the late-night game show. they sat in silence, her head rested on his shoulder and her lips pressed into a tiny line. at the corner of his eyes, he could see her phone’s notifications blaring despite being on mute. the number isn’t saved but it was familiar. she deleted his number already, probably out of rage, but it’s a good step.

tell me where you want me to drop your stuff im sorry i hope youre okay y/n? i heard it was storming did you make it back home? give me a call im calling you okay?

just as like what the message stated, the unknown number called her. it startled her which startled him too. she stared down on the screen, he noticed the grip on the phone and wondered how the phone did not break yet. “can you answer it for me?” she said, holding the phone out to the black-haired man. shocked, he took the phone and pressed the green button. he pressed the phone to his ear and heard her name being called.

“hey man,” kuroo cleared his throat, “listen-”

“she’s with you?” the voice- akaashi asked.

looking down on the girl who was pretending to not have any interest in the call at all, eyes focused on the gameshow, kuroo sighed.

“she is. listen, i think you should leave her alone.”

“kuroo, i know about your feelings. for her. bokuto-san told me about it. if you think that this is the proper way to get her when she’s vulne-”

kuroo bit the inside of his cheeks. he was offended that akaashi dared to call him out like that. “so, what? she made her pick,” the girl turned to face him, brows up wondering what they are talking about.

“that’s low, even for you, kuroo-san.”

their eyes met. he didn’t even realize how deep the cut on his palm where he had balled his fingers into a fist until she touched it. he calmed down. “you hurt her. you have no right to say what’s low or not. be a bigger man, leave her alone,” he muttered flatly, before ending the call. they didn’t break eye contact until he realized what he had done.

“i-i shouldn’t have done that.”

she shook her head, “stop blaming yourself,” a small smile on her face.

that was 3 months ago.

kuroo had made moving on easy for her. akaashi and her remained friendly, although kuroo noticed that she tended to avoid him when possible. the breakup was indeed mutual, but merely on the fact that he lost feelings. akaashi had fallen out of love with her and in love with some other girl but who was she to judge when she was falling in love with the rooster head in silence. they still hang out with bokuto and akaashi but rarely with the latter.

she made him apologized to the fukurodani’s setter too and they remained on friendly term, still practiced together whenever they have training camps together where akaashi had admitted one training night that kuroo and her looks better together. kuroo didn’t say anything, not that he knew what to reply to that (his mind scream fuck yeah we do) but shrugged at his statement. “i guess dating her made you less pain in the ass, kuroo-san,” akaashi joked as they resumed the game.

kuroo was pulled back to reality when he felt his lips brushed against something. his eyes widened when he realized what it was. a quick kiss from her. he blinked frantically, trying to comprehend what had just happened which caused the girl to laugh. “did you just?” he asked confused by what had just happened which she nodded. she bit her bottom lip to hold herself from bursting into a laugh. “god, you should see your face. it’s so stupid. and every girl called you the playboy captain huh?”

he huffed and rolled his eyes, “i am not. i’ve been loyal to one girl for many years now, she is the one who hasn’t notice me at all,” he faked his pout, refused to look her directly in the eyes, praying that she wouldn’t notice his reddening cheeks.

“she must’ve been so stupid,” she teased, her nose rubbing gently against his jawline as she rested her figure against his closer. his chin rested against her head.

“she is,” he looked down on her, his arms around her waist tighter, “i don’t think she knows this but if she leaves me, i think i’ll be so broken inside. is it selfish to say that?” a small frown appeared on her face.

“i don’t think she ever talked about leaving you.”

a grin grew on his face, “so you know who i’m talking about huh?” she fell into his trap. she rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out, calling him stupid. he studied her face, his grin softened into what yaku and his volleyball team called the kuroo is stupidly in love with y/n but refused to admit face. his fingers ran into her hair which she had been growing out in few months down to her shoulder because she thinks that he likes her better that way. the way she tried to subtly put on make up to look better that the other girls who’s shamelessly flirting with him. she was too stupid to realize that he had loved her beyond that.

he loves the rough pads on her hands from holding her paintbrushes and volleyball. he loves that she works hard for everything she’s doing be it studying, volleyball or arts, she would put her blood, sweat and tears into it. he loves that she would wait for him to buy lunch so they can eat together in class. he would buy her a box of milk which she insisted that she doesn’t need too; but he convinced it would be good for her. he wants the best for her.

he loves that all the missing clothes he’s complaining about is in the back of her closet or on her. his cream hoodie hanging behind her closet door, his random pile of t-shirts in a basket on the floor of her closet that he liked to left beside the mix pile of her shoes and his one big ass nike shoes. her room isn’t messy, it is because she kept the messiness in her closet. she also like to keep random stuff of him too. the one medal he won from a science fair hung on the headboard of her bed, the misshapen looking hand wax sculpture of their hands intertwined from a funfair where she rested a purikura of them on it and a lucky bamboo plant he gave on her birthday to compromise on the no gift rule.

“for luck,” he grinned.

unlike hers, he kept her item neatly in his drawer. your spare shirts that he borrowed and refused to return, extra towel and her toiletries, some of her drawing blocks and a small cat shaped pouch where she kept her allergies medication. mostly hidden because his annoying friends come over often and would accidentally talk about it in front of his grandparents. but, on his bedside table, he has a cup of pencils by the bed where he collected the art supplies she left behind, random markers and paintbrushes, a clay sculpture of a trinket plate she made from art club (she carved a tiny letter k in the corner beside the obvious looking genitalia drawing) and a fake plant which she was sure he will not be able to kill it.

he loves it when she wore his jersey. he lost his mind when he found out that her current season number is the same as his. he’s in love. the first time he saw her in his jersey, the number one jersey on her body was during their training. he lost concentration; mouth hung a bit. he got so flustered that he let lev served the ball straight to his head. usually, lev would be dead by now, but he doesn’t mind. his nose bled but to see her kneel beside him, clutching on his own shirt screaming how stupid he is, wiping the blood away with towel, he could only say how pretty she looked. all his teammates were startled, her included. she clutched on his collar angrily; her knees stung from when she leaped down to his side, but this idiot could only smile at her with a bloody nose. “you are fucking idiot,” she cried out angrily, pushing him away before throwing the towel on his face leaving the pleased third year laying on the floor.

he loves the way she would find a way to impress him, be it as ridiculous as the halloween costume idea she had where they’ll go as the front and end of a horse or as serious as the submitted college application to the same university he had gotten into. “you are not getting rid of me that easily, tetsu,” the evil look on her face as she clicked the submit button send shivers down his spine.

“if you leave, i think i’ll cry,” he confessed, his smile slowly died.

“kuroo tetsuro is going to cry after me?” she teased. he nodded eagerly. “does kuroo tetsuro realized that we are literally moving into the same university? i couldn’t catch a break from him,” she faked her annoyance which he playfully avenged by sending her on the floor laughing as he tickled her. tears trickled down her cheeks as she begged him to stop, screaming to get away from his grip. “please, kuroo, i’m going to pee if you don’t stop!” he obliged, tears prickled the corner of his own eyes from laughing too much. straddling her waist, he gathered her wrists in one hand over her head. “apologize and said that kuroo tetsuro is the best man in your life or i swear i’ll make you pee,” he threatened her playfully, wiggling the fingers of his free hand close to her waist. her eyes widened in fears.

“that’s not fair!”

“apologize first.”

“fine!” she pouted, “i’m sorry, i won’t make fun of you again. now get off me!”

he raised his eyebrow, “andddd?”

“annddd-” a teasing smile appeared on her face as she said the next 5 words that send him to mars and back; “i love you kuroo tetsuro.”

he froze in shock. he heard the words before but never in this way; never for him.

finally, i think i got the calculation, love you yaku! lev you’re adorable but so stupid, i love it! thank you for letting me borrow your game, kenma. you’re the best, love ya!

the grip on her wrists loosened. taking advantage of his shock state, she pushed him back, straddling him by the waist, pinning his own hands above his head, giving him the taste of his own medicine. “i’m not going to leave your sorry ass, tetsu. i hope you don’t regret it,” she leaned down, capturing his lips with a longer kiss. letting go of his wrist, her hand went immediately into his rooster hair while another cupped his cheek, deepening their kiss. she could feel his cold palm resting against her bare waist and she shuddered. between the kisses, he heard her whispering his name. “kuroo, do you love me too?” she asked so innocently with kisses between the words but the way she grabbed a handful of his hand in a fist felt so dirty, eliciting a strangled moan from the back of his throat. she pulled back, staring down on his eyes as his lips moved.

“i love you too.”

nothing in his hazel eye but sincerity. he groaned when she pulled herself out of his reach, missing her warm body as she laughed. straightening her sweater back, pulling her hair back up into a tighter ponytail before she picked up the paintbrush she dropped. the paintbrush left a white stain on the court. as if kuroo wasn’t here, whimpering underneath her a minute ago, she continued her work. “i need to finish the mural by this week and you’re not exactly helping me,” she warned him, pointing the wet brush his direction. through the corner of her eyes, he was propped on his elbows, still staring at her, causing her to blush profusely. it annoyed him that she would tease him, then leaving him high and dry. before she could crack open the new paint tin, he ignored her warning as he tackled her back into his arms.

breathless against her lips, he told her to continue later. the urgency and rawness of his voice made her putty immediately. looking up the man, she pouted her lips.

“kuroo-san,” she whined as he captured her bottom lips.

he elicited a soft moan from the girl. he grinned against her lips. a hand rested firmly beside her head while another snaked under the sweater. there will be bruise tomorrow, she was sure of it, he will make sure of it.

“it will be quick, baby. i promise.”

she has no objection.

#kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro imagine #haikyuu x reader #hq #haikyuu #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro fluff #haikyuu x y/n #kuroo tetsurou x reader #writing: hq #writing: fics

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wistfulwatcher · 3 years

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Hello I saw your tag on that "im 25 and dying post" please tell us how it got better for you. Im 26, still living with parents, currently having a fight with my boyfriend, and i still have a year until I get my bachelors. The comparison to everyone younger than me is killing me.

I'm really sorry to hear that you're struggling, but I hope you can take some solace in the fact that that post has a lot of notes and you are absolutely not alone in feeling the way you do! I can certainly try and share my experience, but unfortunately I think the biggest factor is just time (and like, a buttload of self-reflection).

I moved back home after college and worked full time at an administrative job I was doing during school breaks. I majored in psychology and anthropology in college, and was planning to eventually go into forensic psychology, but wasn't interested in going straight into grad school. So I did that administrative job for about a year, and tried to find something that was a bit more stable and at least semi-related to my field. I did end up finding a new job when I was 23 - stable, semi-related to my field (a psych/research background was required), and decent pay (especially as I was still living at home). Exactly what I needed, since I still wasn't ready to start looking into grad school.

I was doing pretty well, until I started getting comfortable at that job, and then I started getting hit with the "I'm not doing enough," and "I need to look into grad school," and "will I ever find a boyfriend?" (friendly reminder that 23-year-old me thought she was straight, yikes), "how will I afford to move out, I have to save my money and do it soon!", "I'm not doing anything but watching TV, I'm wasting my life," "I'm lonely, but I'm too tired to try and make friends," etc., etc.

But it wasn't constant. I'd have a flurry of those questions and fears, and then days where I was just living life and doing my job and taking care of my dogs, without any of that. And I don't think I felt good or particularly comfortable those days, it was more like I just wasn't actively thinking about it, like when you feel "good" after a physical pain goes away and you're just normal.

Eventually, I started thinking about all of these concerns I had, and the fact that it felt like it was URGENT whenever I thought about them. It felt like I needed to get my shit together immediately. I also started to acknowledge that there was this big sense of guilt around those concerns; I was too old to be living at home, I was too old to be single, I was too old not to be starting a career. I felt like I was wasting my life (cue the guilt), and I realized that part of why I felt like I was wasting it was that I felt like I was missing milestones I wouldn't be able to do at a later time because the older I was past "normal" the more humiliating it would be to try (cue the shame and embarrassment, hard).

I also started to doubt that I wanted to go into forensic psychology. More importantly, I started to seriously doubt that I wanted a "career" at all. My job (as I kept that same semi-related to my field one) was absolutely a job, not a career. And I think this was a huge tipping point for me, because a career had always been a given in my life. I'm passionate about what I'm interested in, so it literally just never occurred to me that I would be content with a job. I also started acknowledging that I had some messed up associations about being content with a job meaning that I was lazy (because the only way to be ambitious is with a career and, more damaging, a lack of ambition is fundamentally bad).

Now, I need to clarify that all of the above occurred over the course of years. I was constantly seeing "friends" (i.e., of the facebook variety) go to grad school, start careers, get married, buy homes, etc. And with all of that alongside the entire mess I've outlined in the above paragraphs, it was really, really, tough. It gets hard to find a foothold in better thinking, I believe, when seeing all of these people (some younger) doing things "right" was really just compounding my guilt and shame. (I feel like it's worth mentioning, too, that I was always "an individual" growing up, march-to-the-beat-of-my-own-drummer, yada yada. I feel like that's worth pointing out for others who may be in the same boat, because I think it can lead to another layer of shame in comparing yourself to those around you - especially if it's a big part of your identity that you DON'T do that, because I think it's inevitable as you get older, and you're looking to reach these milestones that prove you're an adult.)

So, here I am, acknowledging that I feel guilt and shame about what I'm not doing. And suddenly I ask myself my first really important question: Do I want a career? The question hot on its heels is: Do I want to go to grad school? Honestly, my answer is no. There is nothing in me that's excited by the prospect. But what, does that mean I'm just going to work my job for the rest of my life? How is giving up going to make me feel better about Not Doing Enough?

As I'm opening this door (remember, years), three things happen: 1) I realize I'm gay, 2) I watch Dirty 30, 3) I start playing D&D.

First, realizing I'm gay. Woohoo! Not only was this exciting because girls are amazing, but it made me seriously look at myself. Realizing I had spent 25 years assuming one thing about myself that turned out to be completely wrong made me question everything for a while. I started to ask myself, "Do I really like this?" more often, which seems like a really obvious question, but I'm not convinced that it's one people ask themselves consciously all that often. But once I did, I realized how freeing it was to answer, "No," and move on to something I did like.

Second, I watched Dirty 30, the Grace Helbig/Mamrie Hart/Hannah Hart movie. It feels dramatic to say that it changed my life, but the older I get the more I honestly think it did. Mamrie Hart's character is a dental hygienist who is freaking out about turning 30 and feeling very much like that text post I reblogged. But (spoilers), at the end of the movie, she decides that she loves her job (job, not career!) because it's comfortable and she has fun at work, and that it makes her happy. She has other things going on, but the idea that a character in a film is content with her job and choosing to "settle" into her life as-is and she's genuinely happy about it? I honestly can't think of a single other time I've seen that happen on-screen. I still think about that ending very often. And after seeing it, I started to ask myself another question regularly: "Am I happy?" Again, this feels pretty obvious, but I think there is something incredibly empowering about making sure you are happy on a regular basis, instead of just assuming that you're fine until something hurts.

Third, I started playing D&D. This is not a plug for D&D! (Well, maybe a little.) One thing that happened to me when I started to get into the urgent-guilt-shame-confusion mess of my mid-20s was that I got very much into a routine of go to work, come home, sleep, go to work, come home, sleep, be totally brain-dead on the weekend, repeat. I found it very difficult to feel creative because I was just wiped, and as all of my creative outlets (gifs, fanfic) are self-motivated, it was really easy to brush them off. I ended up starting Critical Role (this is also not a plug for CR! well, maybe), and I wanted to give D&D a try myself. (I was VERY lucky - my best friend happened to be listening to the Adventure Zone at the same time I started CR, and she wanted to try to run a game. The stars truly aligned!)

I started playing, then DMing, and found that it was a great fit for my interests. I used to be a theatre kid, and I was getting to act again (something I didn't realize I was missing). I was getting to build and flesh out characters, which is what I love the most about writing fanfic. I was also discovering that I was stretching myself - world building and plot had never been my strong suit, but as a DM it became the majority of my creative effort. It gave me soft deadlines with people I didn't want to let down, and it made me truly social again for the first time since college. Essentially, it was filling in all of the gaps of what I felt lacking in my life. This isn't a D&D plug because it wasn't D&D specifically, but rather a hobby that satisfied what was missing in my life. For example, I didn't realize how isolated I was before D&D until I had regular interactions with friends, and that isolation absolutely made the urgent-guilt-shame-confusion worse.

D&D gave me that final push to realize that I was OK with having a job and being passionate about hobbies instead of trying to fit myself into a career, because I was getting out of that hobby what I had been convinced I would get out of a career. I started to really value that I could punch out and go have fun doing exactly what I wanted to do. (It feels so obvious as I type this, but it took me a long time to get here! Sometimes it really is that simple!)

The above is specific to my job vs. career struggle which may not be in the mix of things you're struggling with. But what I do think is universal/can be your take away, is that sometimes you just have to actively choose to let go of the pressure to be doing things. Which, I know, sounds so much easier than it is (and part of why I think it just takes time/is part of growing older). But I think it's something that can be worked at over time, by checking in with yourself about what you feel, why you feel it, and what you need to make yourself feel better in the present.

It's been 6 years since I started that semi-related job, and I'm still there. I still live with my mom. I'm still single. My circumstances have not changed since 24, but honestly? I'm OK. When I check in with myself about it, I do enjoy living with my mom and our dogs (even though I'm 30 and "real" adults move out). I am happy more often than I'm not (much more, actually!). I have a job that allows me to be done after 8 hours, and I have hobbies I look forward to doing each night (and the energy to do them, most of the time). My weekends are free to play D&D with my friends and laugh until I cry. That is what I've worked out as my definition of what I want life to be right now. You'll notice it includes none of the "milestones" that those younger than me have hit.

As I noted on that text post tag, I still struggle with this. I definitely have days where I think, I'm a mess, I'm not DOING anything. It's hard. But time does help, those days become fewer and farther between.

I know that was probably a hundred times longer than you wanted it to be, but I did want to illustrate just how much of a process it is. It takes time. My summary advice is to check in with yourself often, be honest about what you want and what you need, do not let anyone else define where you "should" be. And if you aren't living life how you want to be, identify what you can do (however small) to make yourself feel like you're getting closer.

#ask #me #personal #i am so sorry this is a novel #i hope that it helps you even a little!#can you believe i can write about myself for 2 hours? embarrassing lmao #long post

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spookysummersmores · 8 years

Text

Mind Heist - Chapter 7

Word count: 4,310 (In the words of Grunkle Stan..."HOT BELGIAN WAFFLES!")

Author's note: Ohhh, wow...after two long months of brainstorming, editing, and writing additions to the original...this is it. The final chapter.

I know that, when I posted chapter 6 the other day, I said that there would be TWO more chapters left in the story. And that was originally going to be the case! But chapter 7 felt just...a bit too short to me...? And so I combined chapters 7 and 8 into one and ended up with this...4,000+ word long monster. xP

This one is almost entirely just pure fluff, which is always just...a delight to write. Pines family bonding for life. uwu

Also...stay vigilant. Once it seems like you've reached the end of the chapter...scroll a little further. There's a surprise hidden at the very end...

I'd just like to take the time to thank all of you who have supported Mind Heist - especially @raination and @choc-chip-pancakes - and provided such wonderful feedback. It means the world to both me and my bestie, and you provided me so much motivation and so many smiles throughout this whole process. Much obliged; you're sweethearts, the lot of you. 👍💕💞

The person I'd like to thank most, though, is my partner in crime, @ichipine. This story originated from summer RP shenanigans between us two. It was you who gave me the go-ahead, it was you that gave me so much cute Mabel dialogue to work with and add onto, and it was you who came up with some of the best dreamscape battle tactics I've ever heard. Without your assistance and friendship, I wouldn't have a complete story. Thanks, big sib. Working with you was a BLAST and a half! ^0^ *MAJOR HUGS*

Well...I guess that's all for now. In terms of future fanfiction, I'll be going solo from now on - unless Kaylee or another good friend ever wants to work with me on a fic again, that is! Until next time...see you later, and I hope you enjoy this final chapter. Stay weird, my friends. ^-^ ❤

(As always, PLEASE do not tag any ships. Thank you.)

Dipper and Mabel were soon jolted out of sleep, and they both gasped as they bolted upright in unison. At long last, both of them were safe and sound in the attic of the good old Mystery Shack, and even THAT seemed brighter all of a sudden. Things were finally NORMAL again.

Well...okay, sort of normal.

Dipper immediately began coughing. "Ugh...well...I certainly didn't miss this..." he said hoarsely, sniffling.

Oh, God...it felt as though his head had been hit with a jackhammer. He hadn't had the time to worry about the effects of a mindscape war with a demon on a summer cold for long while in said mindscape. Now he certainly had something to report to his trusty journal about it once he felt up to it: 'If you're fortunate enough to...you know, not die, you'll definitely feel a heck of a lot worse than you did before going to sleep.'

He pulled his blanket up over himself for warmth and then turned to Mabel, giving her a small smile. "Mabel...you did it. I-if it hadn't been for you...Bill...he would've completely wrecked my mind or...or something worse that I...don't really want to think about." He shivered a bit - half from fever and half from the thought of Bill's twisted games. "The way I was feeling in there...I never would have been able to get him on my own. Thanks, Mabel..."

Mabel smiled wide. "Don't worry about it! There was no way I was letting him pick on my brother EVER again...the big bully. That guy just never learns," she said, hands on her hips. She got up off the floor and stretched out. She happened to notice that, even though it felt as though a whole day had passed them by, they'd only been gone for about an hour in the real world.

When she got a good look at her twin, concern set back in. She climbed up on the end of his bed and sat there. "You still seem...REALLY sick though. Like...more like miss-school-for-two-whole-WEEKS sick now. You doing okay?"

"In all honesty? N-not really..." Dipper started coughing again, and rather harshly at that.

Mabel quickly got his drink for him and felt his forehead. You could have used it in place of a kerosene heater. Bill really HAD done quite a number on him...

Luckily for Dipper, about 15 minutes later, the twins both heard Stan unlocking the front door downstairs. "Honey...I'm home!" he called jokingly from the first floor. He climbed the stairs and knocked on the attic door before immediately entering (which kind of defeats the purpose of knocking), grocery bags in hand. He walked in just as Mabel was changing out the cloth on Dipper's forehead. "Hey, kiddo...how're you doin'?" he asked quietly, sounding an awful lot gentler than usual.

"Terrible..." Dipper croaked out from underneath the covers.

"Yeesh." Stan set the bags down on the bed and sat once Mabel scooted off. "Well...I dunno if this'll make ya feel any better, but you're not alone. Apparently, it's goin' around. In the SUMMER. I was IN LINE with some punk who was practically coughin' his lungs up. Only in this weird hick town..." He sighed. "Okay...so I just about bought out the pharmacy."

"Bought it out, or stole everything?" Dipper whispered with a tiny smile and a sniffle. Even in his haze, he couldn't help but tease Stan just a little.

"Haha...very funny, y'little dork. You'd be gettin' noogied right about now if y'weren't so darn sick," Stan teased back, grinning at the boy. "Here we go now. F'real." He started unpacking the bags, and he'd only been half exaggerating about buying out the pharmacy. "Tissues, cough drops, cold pills-" He nonchalantly put a hand to Dipper's forehead as he spoke, but he forgot to hide his concern and stopped cold, eyes wide, when he felt how high the kid's temperature had gotten in such a short amount of time. "Which y'need RIGHT NOW. I could make an omelet on your head. Be right back. Mabel, keep an eye on 'im, will ya?" He popped out of the room, taking Dipper's juice glass with him.

Mabel flopped down on her own bed. "Oh, gosh...you're in really bad shape, huh?" she asked. "I'm awful glad Grunkle Stan's back."

"Same..." Dipper groaned a little and laid back on his pillow.

"Don't you worry, bro. I'll be by your side keepin' you company until you get better."

Dipper was happy to have her company...but he realized something. "Thanks, Mabel. Just...be careful, okay? Judging by what Grunkle Stan just said, you..." He sneezed mid-sentence. "Could catch it. Really easily. Wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy..."

'Then again, Bill would probably enjoy it. The weirdo,' he thought to himself with disgust.

"I'll try to be careful...don't worry." Mabel gave Dipper a grateful little smile. "And heck...quit worrying about me! You're the one Dad could probably use for a grill right now. Just relax."

Grunkle Stan soon stepped back in the room with a glass of water, cold pills, and an ice pack he'd wrapped in a washcloth. "Alllright, kiddo...get this in you before your head...spontaneously combusts or somethin'."

"Thanks, Grunkle Stan." Dipper sat up to take the medicine and went to pick his UFO blanket up when it fell to the floor. Stan put a stop to that, however, when both he and Mabel saw the child become dizzy the second he stepped out of bed.

"Excuuuse me; where d'ya think you're goin'?" Stan muttered to him, sternly, but gently.

"Aww, Dipper, you're supposed to rest..." Mabel stepped over and put a hand on his shoulder to gently lower him back into bed.

"I-I'm good...I'm good," Dipper insisted, though he immediately coughed again afterwards.

"C'mere, kiddo...thataboy..." Stan tucked the kid back in and gently placed the ice pack on his burning forehead. "Now...when I say don't move from that bed, I MEAN don't move from it. Not a big fan of the sound of ya there," Stan said in his gruff, but well-meaning, way. He backed out of the room with the rest of the grocery bags. "Mabel, keep an eye on 'im while I put stuff away...and if he falls asleep, come downstairs and just let 'im go, okay?"

Mabel nodded. "You got it, Grunkle Stan."

Stan nodded back and smiled at his niece. "Good. Rest up, kiddo," he said to Dipper softly.

Once Stan left, as Dipper laid there in his bed, bundled up in a little blanket cocoon, anxious thoughts popped back into his head...but much different ones than before. He hated admitting it to himself, but he was more than a bit wary about trying to go back to sleep. He knew full well that he and Mabel had just seen Bill disappear into the unknown for themselves. And yet...the thought of him possibly still lurking somewhere nearby just wouldn't leave his aching head. Nervous, he poked a hand out and gently began to pet Waddles, who had sensed Dipper's uneasiness and decided to curl up next to him as if to reassure him.

Mabel turned to Dipper, and without him even saying a word, she could immediately tell that he felt uneasy. "It's alright, bro-bro," she said, patting his head lightly to comfort him. "We got rid of Bill...we watched him poof away, remember? You should be safe now. Just worry about getting better...okay?"

Dipper hesitated before nodding slowly, though he still couldn't help but feel at least a little nervous. "Okay..." He sneezed again and cleared his throat. "I guess I'll try to sleep...my head is killing me. Maybe the meds'll kick in faster that way." He slowly pulled himself into an even smaller ball - he slept more comfortably that way - but turned back around for a second to whisper one last message out. "Oh, Mabel...? Thanks again. For everything."

Mabel smiled. "You're welcome!" She made sure her sibling was tucked in just right. "I'll check back later once you're asleep to see how you're doing, okay?"

The boy smiled a tiny bit and nodded as he watched his sister leave the room. Waddles, who had decided to make himself comfortable where he was, kneaded on the bed a bit like a cat would before spinning around and falling asleep at Dipper's feet. Dipper soon surprised himself by successfully clearing his mind and following the little pig to Dreamland.

For the rest of that day and night, Mabel checked up on Dipper and kept him company whenever she could. She made it her sworn duty as 'chief nursemaid and right-hand man of the renowned Dr. Waddles' to monitor his temperature and keep him supplied with fluids, tissues, and throat lozenges. At one point, late in the evening, once enough of Dipper's lightheadedness had subsided and he was waiting for his next dose of medicine to kick in, the twins even played a game in which they would take turns making up a story by drawing pictures on Mabel's dry-erase board. The town's plethora of oddities - supernatural and human alike - provided them with plenty of material to draw inspiration from, so they spun themselves quite a tale. It was around 10:00 when the twins turned in, and for the first night in almost a week, they BOTH found themselves sleeping peacefully that night.

Unbeknownst to either of them, Stan had come up sometime around midnight. He pulled up a rusty old lawn chair from the bowels of the attic storage, parked himself just outside the kids' bedroom door, and stayed there - occasionally nodding off, but never for long - until he'd heard them begin to stir early the next morning. He then made a break for it as soon as he knew that all was as well as it could possibly be.

Though he still had quite a bad cold, Dipper was at least much less feverish when he woke up the next morning. Mabel was immensely relieved and glad to see him feeling at least a little bit better - and Stan would never admit it out loud, but so was he.

Since Dipper was still confined to bed, Mabel's nurse duties continued well into that afternoon. Whenever she came to visit him, Dipper noticed that she wasn't her usual hyperactive self - in fact, she was being...oddly quiet that morning - but he immediately determined the reason why, or so he thought. He'd found himself in an odd state of mental exhaustion since he and Mabel had returned from their mindscape battle victorious, and he figured that his sister was feeling the same sort of fatigue.

At some point, Dipper drifted off to sleep in spite of himself. The next thing he knew, he was brought out of his impromptu nap by a strange sound - a sound that gave him a bad feeling, though he...honestly wasn't quite sure what the noise was at first. He'd only half-heard it.

Had...had he just heard a cat sneeze?

"Huh...wha...?" he mumbled out as he rolled over. "Mabel...did you say something?" He coughed and picked up his watch so he could check the time. It was nearly suppertime, to his dismay. "Aw, seriously? I slept all day?"

Mabel was seated on her bed, working on gluing bits and bobs to various pages of her beloved scrapbook, as she often did on quiet afternoons and rainy days. "Naww...i-it's okay, bro-bro," she reassured him quietly...though Dipper quickly noticed that she didn't sound quite like herself. "You need all the sleep...you can..." Her sentence was cut off when she sneezed again. She quickly hid her discomfort, not paying it any mind, but she could tell by the way her brother was looking at her that he'd seen her. "W-what? Why're you lookin' at me like that?" She laughed nervously.

Dipper sat up. Something was up, alright. She looked paler than he did, and just as flushed to boot. "Mabel...? Are you okay?"

"...Oh, no," she muttered to herself. It wasn't until then that Mabel fully realized what had happened. At least, she hadn't admitted it to herself until then. "Okay, Dipper...I think maybe I got sick, too.." Having admitted defeat, she groaned and plopped down on her bed.

"...Uh-oh."

'So that's what's going on. Should've known when SHE started being QUIET,' Dipper thought to himself.

He wrapped himself up in his blanket, walked over to Mabel's bed, sat beside her, and put a hand to her forehead. Sure enough..."Aw, no, you're burning up!"

Mabel frowned at the discovery. "Yeah...I feel pretty darn sick..." She began to cough, and she sounded quite awful. "H-how are you feeling?"

Dipper winced a little at the sound of her. "Pff, don't worry about me; I'm..." He sneezed. "Fine." He certainly wasn't fine yet, by any stretch of the imagination, but he was much more concerned about Mabel's well-being at that moment. He handed her the box of tissues that had been sitting beside him. "How long have you been feeling like this? How come you didn't tell me?"

Mabel grabbed a tissue and blew her nose. "N-not too long..." She had actually felt herself coming down with something longer than she liked to admit. "I just...didn't want you to get worried while YOU'RE getting better...you know?"

"Aw, sis..." Dipper sighed. "It means a heck of a lot that you've been taking care of me. I really appreciate it. But just...don't forget to take care of yourself, too. You definitely don't want to end up feeling as awful as I felt yesterday. Okay?" He gave her a caring smile.

Mabel smiled back a little and nodded in response. Sometimes, it was almost as if he took the role of a protective older brother rather than a twin.

"Don't worry. We'll get you fixed up. It's my turn to help YOU out. One sec..." Dipper then got up and tried to call down the stairs for their grunkle. That very quickly turned out to be a mistake, for the fire in his throat began to burn twice as much, and it induced another coughing fit.

"SHHH, careful!" Mabel whisper-yelled to him, sounding worried. "You're still sick too, goofus!"

"Wha- what's that now?" Stan hollered back from downstairs, not having heard clearly. "Dipper? That you? What're you doin' yellin', kid? You're gonna bust your voicebox or somethin', and I'm not bein' held responsible for that..." he called up the stairs as he approached the attic. His head soon peeked through the doorway. "Y'okay?"

"I'm about the same as before; don't worry," Dipper replied, sniffling. "Mabel, on the other hand..."

"Hi, Grunkle Stan." Her voice cracked a bit - something that usually only Dipper's voice did - and she cleared her throat.

Stan raised an eyebrow in concern. He could instantly see that she didn't feel well and began to worry when he saw that clearing her throat caused it to ache. "Mabel...c'mere, sweetie." He put a hand to her head - "Aw, jeez..." - and immediately went to see if he had a second thermometer handy, one he hadn't already used on his nephew. Dipper stayed beside her with a comforting hand on her shoulder as she waited.

It wasn't long before the thermometer beeped and decided to be the bearer of bad news. 100 degrees even. Stan sighed. "Well, that's not good."

"Aw, man..." Mabel frowned.

Stan took a deep breath, then came out with an idea. "...Alrighty. That's it. The two of yas, grab your blankets and pillows and...pigs and what have ya. You're comin' downstairs," he announced. "At least y'can...y'know, watch TV down there." The real reason he wanted them downstairs was so he could keep a closer eye on them both, but he dared not say it.

Dipper put a hand to his head, but smiled a little anyway. "Sounds like a plan to me." He quickly grabbed his blanket and pillow.

Mabel followed suit, wrapping both herself and Waddles up in her blanket. "I'm ready!" she proclaimed softly with a sniffle.

"All good? M'kay. Here we go..." Stan picked his niblings up and draped one of them over each of his shoulders. "All aboard the Stan Train!"

Very, very carefully, Stan carried them down the stairs. The twins used his shoulders as head rests and felt warm and safe in their grunkle's strong arms. He found himself a bit sore by the time he arrived in the living room, but didn't say so, and honestly, he didn't mind.

"Next stop...couch." He gently plopped them both - and Waddles - down.

The kids smiled. "Thanks, Grunkle Stan."

"Yeah, yeah. It's nothin'." Stan brushed it off, but he smiled a little himself. "Now don'tcha move a muscle. I'll be right back." Off he went to fetch supplies for them both.

Mabel tried to help Dipper bundle himself, but he took it upon himself to help her bundle herself up first instead. "You okay?" he whispered, trying not to strain his voice anymore.

Mabel coughed. "I've been better...but I'm okay." She snuggled Waddles close to her for comfort.

Dipper gave her a little side hug. "Yeah. Sorry that I...got you sick..." Then, the twins ended up sneezing in unison, which they couldn't help but snicker at.

"It's okay...I think I would've gotten sick anyways." Mabel returned the side hug. "I liked taking care of you - it was fun! So...I don't mind," she said softly with a shrug.

Dipper smiled warmly at his sister's kindness, glad to have her by his side.

Suddenly, the twins heard talking outside the door to the living room.

"OUT."

"Aw, come on, man-" "But Mr. Pines-"

"No 'buts' except yours away from this door. This area's been quarantined. Now OUT, b'fore I sic the CDC on yas both!"

As the old door creaked open and Stan stepped through, the twins could see Soos and Wendy squeeze their faces through the opening as fast as they could, determined to get their message across.

"Aw, man...get better, dudes!" Soos called through the door, his voice muffled from squishing in between the door and the wall.

"Feel better, guys! We'll sneak stuff in to you later when Stan's not looking!" Wendy managed to yell to them just before - 'click' - Stan shut the door on them.

Dipper and Mabel couldn't help but giggle at their antics. "Bye, guys," the twins called back quietly, hoping the two of them could hear.

Stan dropped tissues and other such supplies on the coffee table with a sigh. "Alright...you knuckleheads both need meds, and I'm makin' soup. And later, I...may or may not be able to...spare some ice cream." He grinned.

Mabel gasped and smiled. "Yes! Ice cream!" she cheered softly before sneezing.

"Bless you," Dipper said...and then promptly sneezed himself.

Stan ruffled the kids' hair affectionately. "Consider yourselves lucky. I don't go sharin' my stash with just anyone, y'know!" He chuckled a little as he disappeared into the kitchen. He peeked back through the kitchen door, for just a second, to make sure they'd gotten settled before getting to work.

Later on that evening, after the little family had sat down together for ice cream and a movie, Stan unraveled himself from the blanket pile on the couch and left the room for just a minute to grab some coffee. When he came back...

"Hey, kiddos, it's gettin' late...whaddya say we-" He stopped as soon as he saw the kids and smiled warmly. "Ha...wouldja look at this..."

The sight before him was too adorable for words. Dipper and Mabel were fast asleep, leaning on each other for support. Waddles had stretched himself across both of their laps, as if he was determined to guard them as they slept.

Stan chuckled - not only because the sight of the twins sleeping was so sweet, but also because he found his mind wandering to the happier days of his youth. Distant and bittersweet as they now were, he remembered them fondly just then, as if they had only occurred a few days prior. Those were treasured days, worth their weight in gold, where, even if sickness kinda killed a fun weekend, it wasn't as bad when there was a good friend to keep you company.

He silently debated whether or not to move the kids upstairs and soon decided against it entirely. "Eh...just let 'em sleep, Stan," he mumbled to himself. "They're comfortable where they are. No use disturbin' 'em both."

He was about to turn the TV off and depart for his bedroom, but he hesitated. He just couldn't bring himself to leave the kids alone. So, he just sat on the opposite end of the couch - gently, so as not to wake them.

Just as he went to check the kids' foreheads, Mabel suddenly coughed a bit in her sleep, rolled over, and hugged Stan's arm. Dipper murmured something in his sleep, and his head fell over onto Mabel's shoulder.

"Awwww..." Stan put his arm around Mabel. "Sweet dreams, pumpkin." He slowly reached his arm over Mabel's head and ruffled Dipper's hair. "G'night to you too, kiddo."

Mabel smiled in her sleep, as if the message had gotten to her regardless of her slumber. Dipper did as well and wrapped one arm around Waddles, who oinked happily in response and went back to piggy-snoring.

Stan kept his arm around the kids for the rest of the night. He had had no intention of falling asleep, but the cuddle pile had a rather soothing effect, and so he soon joined his niblings in slumberland in spite of himself.

In another couple days, to Stan's relief, Dipper and Mabel bounced back from their colds completely. Almost immediately, the tween sleuths were back to exploring the gigantic oddity that was Gravity Falls, where countless other summer adventures - and misadventures - awaited them...somewhere in the woods...

the end

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