Prompt Fic - Tumblr Posts

So for the Greatest Showman: I have this thing with P.T. being a sort of, kind of father figure to Phillip. So maybe P.T.'s going to a show a few months after Phillip's taken over, and Phillip is clearly unwell but still trying to push through for a sold-out show, and P.T. kind of assesses his condition and tends to him backstage after? (It's been a HOT minute since I've watched the movie, but Phillip Whump is A+) Also, only write this if you want, of course! ily!

I love this prompt!  I almost couldn’t wait to write it, ily too!

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It almost made Phineas jealous with how often Phillip’s shows sold-out.  He knew he and Phillip had built quite the empire of acts from around the world, and with Phillip at the helm, the circus was growing bigger and more acclaimed every week it seemed.  The newest faces on the posters, two sword swallowers who could swallow a foot-long sword and spit it out without harming himself, were debuting today, so Phineas found himself on the train to see the circus, with Charity’s blessing, saying she’d wanted some mother-daughter bonding time with their girls.  But, as was his habit from his ringleader days, he still showed up early to help.  He said his hellos, and entered the mostly empty tent where he found Phillip up on the trapeze shelf, seemingly leaning against the pole.

“Need any help up there, Phillip?”  Phineas called up, already getting his feet on the ladder.

Phillip didn’t answer him, which was odd but not unheard of.  Phillip would sometimes get so invested in his work that his ears just stopped working.

So he tried again.  “Phillip, is there anything you need? Anything I can get you?”

Still no answer.

Phineas didn’t think anything of it, approaching the trapeze pedestal board with ease.  He found Phillip nearly slumped over, with the pole keeping him upright.  His face was flushed as he was panting, seemingly exhausted, and his hands shook as he was trying to rethread the trapeze wires.

“Phillip?”

His voice startled the young man.

“PT!  Hi. Didn’t hear you coming up.” Phillip’s voice was strained, rough. His eyes were a little bloodshot, and sweat beaded at his forehead.

“You alright?”  Phineas asked, concern slipping into his voice.

“I’m fine, PT, just didn’t sleep that long last night.” Phillip dismissed.  “I was up too late trying to get everything done.  You remember what that’s like.”

Phineas sighed.  “I really do. Need any help?”

“I can’t get this wire tied right.”  Phillip admitted.  “Usually W.D. or Anne can take care of it, but I’ve got W.D. on helping with the elephants since two of the trainers are out sick and Anne’s helping out Lettie and the girls with their make-up and I thought I could get these wires tied while they were doing that and I just can't.”

Phineas nearly snickered but didn’t want his apprentice feeling like he was laughing at him.  Phineas easily sideswiped Phillip on the platform and Phillip moved to allow Phineas access to the wires. With a practiced ease, Phineas tied the wires to the platform tightly and correctly.

“Come on, let’s head down.”  Phineas said once he was done.  “You don’t look too good, kid.”

“I'm fine, PT.”  Philip groaned in annoyance.  “I'll get some good sleep tonight.”

“If you say so.”  Phineas acquiesced.

They made their way down the ladder, with Phineas going first and Phillip slowly following after.

“This should be the last of it, PT.”  Phillip said.  “At least the last of the stuff I know how to do.  I've got to go and change, why don’t you grab your seat and wait for showtime?”

“Trying to get rid of me already, kid?”  Phineas teased, his hand moving of its own accord to ruffle Phillip’s hair.

Phillip dodged easily, laughing lightly.  “Always, old man.  I'll see you after the show.”

Phineas nodded, and left for his usual spot on the benches, where he had the best view of the show in his opinion.  The show would be starting soon, and the benches would be filled with throngs of people waiting for the incredulity of the circus.

It was Phillip's first near fall where Phineas first noticed it. It was a small slip, one the audience had no idea was a misstep, but Phineas saw it clear as day.  It was an easy step, one he'd rehearsed with Phillip a dozen times over but Phillip struggled, as if his body couldn’t keep up with his muscle memory.  Phineas then zeroed in on Phillip nearly the entire show, forcing himself to look at the new acts he'd come all this way to see, but his thoughts couldn’t help but drift back to Phillip.  He knew the tells, he'd done them himself, of a performer who wasn’t up to performing but was still pushing on.  He saw Phillip cough into his jacket as the audience’s attention was drawn elsewhere, saw his feet struggle to move to the choreography he knew Phillip would know asleep, and saw him leaning far too heavily on the spat he used as ringmaster.

It was the smiles that bothered Phineas most though.  Ever since recruiting him, Phineas saw how much Phillip loved performing.  The joy that exuded from the young man often brought delight to anyone who saw him dance, the lilt in his voice causing anyone who heard it want to sing out with him and garble any lyrics they didn’t know, and his smile was a blinding, infectious smile that grabbed your attention and wouldn’t let go until the last curtain call.  But Phineas didn’t see those smiles tonight, he saw the fake ones Phillip used when talking about his , how he spoke about the plays he wrote under the influence of several different kinds of alcohol, how he spoke when his father somehow ended up coming up.  It was a smile he had learned was hiding so much pain Phineas could hardly bear it.

When the last note hit, the audience already jumping up in their seats, screams and applause deafening the area, Phillip seemed to be panting like he’d just carried an elephant on his back.  On instinct, Phineas was on his feet, his hands clapping together like his life depended on it, but he couldn’t stop staring at Phillip.  He seemed out of breath, muffling coughing that didn’t appear to stop, and his whole body looked like it was shaking. An untrained eye would confuse it for the adrenaline of the show but Phineas knew better.  Phillip never shook after a show.

As the people started to head out once the applause died down, and Phillip encouraged them to visit the stalls and sellers on their way out, encouraged them to come again to see something new every night, that Phineas started to make his way to Phillip.  Phillip must not have seen him coming because he turned to Anne, and gave her an excuse he couldn’t hear, and immediately made his way to their office.

He could hear the cough before he opened the door, deep and wet. He opened the door to find Phillip on one knee, struggling to keep himself upright by holding onto the desk with white knuckles, an overused handkerchief pressed against his mouth.

“Oh, Phillip.”  He knelt next to the boy.  Phineas gently rubbed circles into his back, trying to soothe Phillip's irritated lungs. He noticed an unnatural heat seeping into his fingers, and he placed a hand on Phillip’s forehead.

“You're burning up!”  Phineas shouted.  “Why didn’t you say anything?  I could’ve gone on tonight.”

Phillip opened his mouth to try and answer but only more coughing came out.

“You didn’t know the new steps.”  Phillip finally gasped out, his eyes wet with unshed tears.  “No time to teach you.  Show sold-out.  Couldn’t postpone the debut.”

He bit back another reply about improvising but the long conversation about how them being partners to share fifty-fifty of the business meant allowing Phineas to take over when Phillip wasn’t feeling well would have to wait. Phillip was certainly in no condition for it now.

“Come on, let’s get you to the couch.”  Phineas said, hauling the young man into his arms, half-walking, half-carrying Phillip to the couch.

Phillip groaned as he sank into the cushions.  “’M sorry.  Didn’t mean to worry you.”

Phineas sighed, pouring Phillip a glass of water from the desk pitcher. It was a bit warm from being in the heated office but warm water was better than no water at all.

“Drink up, Phil.”  Phineas pressed the glass into Phillip’s hands.  Phillip's hand shook as he raised the glass to his lips but he managed a few sips without spilling.

With the practiced ease of raising two children, Phineas managed to get Phillip out of his sweaty ringmaster’s jacket and undershirt, undid his belt and removed his shoes.  Phineas then took the water pitcher and brought out his own small handkerchief, Charity had just done laundry, so it was nice and clean though it wasn’t very big. He dipped the handkerchief in the pitcher, and wrung it out.

Phineas then pulled the chair from behind the desk to sit beside him, unable to fight the urge to run his hands through Phillip’s hair like he would with his own daughters.  Phillip's eyes fluttered, and his entire body appeared to relax a bit.

“Feels good.”  Phillip slurred, seemingly halfway to sleep until a harsh coughing fit ripped through him. “Ugh, I feel like an elephant stepped on my chest.”

Phineas frowned.  “How long have you been coughing?”

“Couple ‘a days.”  Phillip replied after another sip of water.  “Didn’t think it would get so bad.”

“Did you fall?”  Phineas asked quickly, trying to check the boy for hidden injuries.  Of course Phillip would push himself too far for the circus, of course he wouldn’t tell anyone he was sick,

Phillip shook his head just as quickly, though he didn’t open his eyes.  “No, woke up with the cough.”

Phineas sighed in relief, falling back in the chair.  If Phillip had fallen, he could have had broken ribs. Against his will, his mind showed the boy beside him with a bloody cough, burning with an infection, collapsing when he wasn’t looking, dying because he wasn’t there for him.  So instead of entertaining that image in his head, he focused on mopping the sweat from the young man’s brow, gently brushing his handkerchief across the searing skin.  Phillip moaned at the contact.  Phineas then rewet the handkerchief and folded it, placing it upon Phillip's head.

“You should go home.”  Phillip murmured after a little while.  It nearly startled Phineas, he'd thought the boy had finally fallen asleep.

“I'm not leaving you, Phillip.”  Phineas replaced the wet handkerchief, and cupped Phillip's cheek.  The fever hadn’t gotten worse but he wasn’t entirely certain it had gotten better either.  “Someone needs to look after you and I can handle any circus problem that comes up. Just get some rest, son.”

Phillip didn’t notice his slip, or didn’t comment on it, and Phineas was grateful.  Phillip already had a father, no matter how strained their relationship, and it wasn’t him. Phineas had already nearly lost the title once to his own children, he couldn’t go giving himself the title to another, especially a grown man who could make his own decisions.

But his hand still found his way to Phillip's hair, threading itself with Phillip’s curls.  Phillip gave a small noise of contentment, one he probably wasn’t even aware he made. Phineas couldn’t fight the smile on that one.

They stayed that way until Phillip shivered under Phineas' touch, and he took off the handkerchief.

Wordlessly, (which was a miracle all in itself) Phineas got the spare blanket he knew was still in the side table drawer.  It was a bit old, a bit thinner than what they had for when they needed to sleep on the sofa but that blanket, sewed with love from Lettie to keep them warm on cold nights, was entirely too thick for a fever.  This one was perfect.

He draped it over Phillip's still form, and even though the blanket was threadbare, the young man’s shivering eased.  On instinct, he tucked Phillip in as if he were one of his girls.

“Thanks, Dad.”  Phillip murmured, seemingly dropping off into sleep, his breath evening out.

For a moment, Phineas just stared at him, his body and mind frozen by the simple words Phillip had barely managed to say.  Slowly he sank into the desk chair, his hand dragging across his face.  Phillip could’ve been thinking of his own father, but whenever he spoke of the elder Carlyle Phillip had not given the impression that he was allowed to call his father ‘Dad’, let alone that the man would tuck Phillip in when he was a child, and he did have a fever.  But, in that moment, he decided he didn’t care.  If Phillip even remembered this tomorrow, which was doubtful, they could discuss it then.  For now, Phineas merely leaned down and kissed the top of Phillip's head, eliciting another noise of contentment.

“Goodnight, son.”

hii can you do prompt 33 for cove

Prompt 33: Oh God. If only you knew the things I'd do for you

Character: Cove Holden

Takes place: Step 3

Relationship: Best friends who are unknowingly in love with each other

Not proof read

You weren't scheduled to go to work, so you decided to have a lazy morning. The only thing on your list to do today was pick up Liz from the airport. Your mother being unavailable and Liz refusing to get a taxi. That's at least what she said, you knew she wasn't as stuck up as her younger self, she was just looking to spend some time with her sibling. Relaxing into the couch, taking bites of your breakfast before you were interrupted by your phone blowing up.

Nonchalantly you pick it up and begin to read the messages. It took one or two before you were rushing around the house getting ready for work.

Weeks before you'd agreed to take someone else's shift. And now you were late to said shift. Some people may have just passed it on but this coworker had already taken a shift of yours, you owed it to them to hold your side of the bargain.

With keys in hand you hurriedly left the house and reached your car.

With your stress and focus on getting to work you missed the tall ,sea foamed haired boy you called your best friend approaching your house. But as you got to the driver's seat you saw his reflection in the window. As you tried to unlock your car, you questioned the man

" what's up"

He could tell it was a rushed question, and from what he could see he was confident

" well I wanted to see if you wanted to do something before you have to pick up liz"

You had forgotten about that while stressing about work. Dropping your keys from the shock. You quickly recover, grabbing the key, and fiddling with the lock again. You didn't hold back your frustration, verbally expressing yourself.

" I agreed to take a shift, and its uggg-its too late to back out, but I won't be back in time to- these stupid keys I swear- to pick Liz up. I can't mess up this badly."

" let me help"

Cove held out his palm, asking for the keys. He wasn't just going to take them but he was more clear minded and thought it would be easier for him to do.

You accepted and dropped the keys in his hand. You moved aside for cove to work on the lock, within seconds he had the door open for you.

" I'll get Liz."

" What no, cove I'll figure something else out."

" I got it"

"Cove! You should enjoy your day off. It's too much. I can't let you do it."

"Oh God. If only you knew the things I'd do f9r you, then you'd realize that this is nothing. Please let me help you , I don't like seeing you stress out."

Cove said the first part like what he was saying was obvious, like it was just another fact. But to you it was more, it made your cheeks warm. He must not realize how romantic his words could be.

" You gotta get going"

You gave a small chuckle as you climbed into your car. You hoped your current bashful state wasn't obvious to him. He closed the door for you. Before he started to walk back to his house. Quickly you rolled your window down.

" thanks cove"

He simply gave you a thumbs up. You rolled up your window and drove away.

No matter how far you drove. How busy work got. Your mind was stuck on that street. Stuck on those words cove spoke so calmly. It was a moment that made you question his feelings for you. Maybe he also wanted to be more than friends… just maybe.

All I Wanted

Word Count: 1k

Idris Valley x Amit Thakkar

Prompt: "Squeezing their hand reassuringly and holding their hand throughout an intense social situation (eg. a large school reunion which the more introverted person is dreading)"

Prompt from @heyitszev

Idris could hardly believe that halfway through the term Hogwarts could still surprise them. The decorations in the Great Hall for the Yule Ball were, well, enchanting. The fake (or maybe even real) snow dusting the fireplaces and falling from the ceiling with it’s perfect display of stars. The candles only added to the atmosphere, the warm light helping to contrast the cooler blues and whites.

Of course, nothing there was more beautiful than the boy next to them. When Idris turned to face him they expected to see him watching the dancing or marvelling at the decorations. But instead Amit’s gaze was darting around the room rapidly. The tension in his shoulders had him standing straighter than Idris had ever seen him. He was wringing his hands like he was trying twist them off at the wrist.

“Are you okay?” Idris leaned over to whisper to him. Amit nearly jumped out of his skin but quickly tried (and failed) to compose himself. 

“Of course,” Amit nodded five times in quick succession. “Do you, um, do you want to dance?”

“What are you nervous about?” Idris asked instead because really, they weren’t oblivious.

“I’m not nervous,” Amit said. Seeing as how he was still wringing his hands and his denial was barely a mumble, Idris didn’t believe him at all. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else, which they tried really hard not to take personally. 

“If you don’t want to be here you can go,” Idris told him, trying to pretend they were totally okay with that. That wasn’t right. They were okay with it, really. They’d just been looking forward to this, their first official date, for weeks and now it was here and Amit looked absolutely miserable. But if he didn’t want to be at the ball they weren’t going to force him to stay, that would be awful.

“No!” Amit protested immediately and grabbed onto Idris’ sleeve like he was scared they were going to walk away and leave him there. “I want to be here with you. There’s simply more going on than I expected. I’ll be okay in time, I’m sure.”

Oh, oh okay. Idris got it now. They couldn’t resist chuckling at themself and their panic for a moment because were they really worried that the boy who stormed up to them in the middle of the hallway and pulled them into a kiss by their lapels didn’t want to go on a date with them?

Idris gently took Amit’s hand from their sleeve but only so they could hold it in their own. They squeezed Amit’s hand, letting him know it was okay to do and immediately Amit’s grip tightened.

“It’s okay, Amit,” Idris promised. “Come here, I have an idea.”

Idris pulled Amit along, never once letting go of his hand as they navigated the crowd for him. They let him use their hand as his anchor point. Slowly, even with the crowds, Amit’s grip loosened until they were just another couple holding hands, just in time to slip out the side door and into the gardens on the grounds.

“What are we doing out here?” Amit wondered.

“Attending the Ball of course,” Idris answered as they casted a quick warming charm on both their clothes. They could still hear the music from outside, but now it was muffle and nowhere near as all-encompassing. The stars glittering above their heads now were real, no suffocating feeling of a stone ceiling. It was just the two of them among the snow and starlight.

“But the Ball is inside?” Amit pointed out.

“And we are outside,” Idris said. They pulled Amit closer and squeezed his hand, immediately getting a squeeze back in response. “We can hear the music, we’ve even got the snow, space to dance, the exact same sky as on the ceiling, enough light to see. That’s a ball in my book.”

“But you’ve been so excited about the Ball,” Amit protested. “And I really did want to experience that with you.”

Idris squeezed Amit’s hand once more.

“The Ball is pretty and maybe one day we can go and it’ll be easier,” Idris said. They pulled Amit even closer so they could wrap their freen hand around his waist, a touch that immediately helped him relax further. “But it wasn’t the Ball I was excited about. All I wanted was to spend my evening with you. Who needs candlelight when you have starlight, anyway?”

“Are you sure you’re okay with being out here?” Amit confirmed. 

“Yes, Starlight, I am,” Idris replied, a smile on their face already in anticipation of Amit’s reaction. Just as they’d expected Amit’s eyes immediately widened and he tried to hide his face in Idri’s shoulder, which just gave them an idea.

“Besides it was so crowded out there I couldn’t appreciate how beautiful you look,” They grinned for just a moment before lifting theirs and Amit’s hand above their heads and twirling him around. While it was bliss to watch Amit, what really mattered was the laugh that finally bubbled out of his chest. “Much better.”

"You're incorrigible," Amit said. Idris pulled Amit back into them and Amit was caught off guard that he grabbed for them and ended up holding onto their upper arms. Idris happily put his hands on Amit's hips, not minding at all.

"Absolutely," Idris replied, eyes fixed on Amit's lips which were now only centimeters away.

They'd kissed plenty of times in the last few weeks, but something about this felt different from a quick hello or burst of affection. Like the snowflakes dancing around them it was beautiful and special but so easy to lose and so easy to fall apart.

"Now you look nervous," Amit teased.

"Alright you know what," Idris laughed.

Idris pulled Amit in by his hips so their chests were pressed together as their lips fell together too. As it turned out the warming charm wasn't even necessary. The warmth flooding Idris' body from Amit's hands and lips and heartbeat against their own was more than enough to fend off the cold. When they pulled away their hands found each other again, squeezing the others' fingers as they basked in the peace the other brought. That was all they needed.

I've Got You

Word Count: 486

Percival Valley x Garreth Weasley

Prompt: Ever so light forehead kisses

Prompt submitted by @rypnami

It was hard for Garreth to believe Percival was just sleeping. As Percival laid still in his bed in the Hospital Wing, breathing still occasionally stuttering, all Garreth could think of was how still he’d been when he was gone. He kept glancing up, some piece of him just waiting for Percival’s hair to fade to black again.

Garreth hadn’t been there. He wasn’t sure if he was grateful for it. Garreth hadn’t had to watch Percival die, but it wasn’t like seeing Percy dead hadn’t fucked him up all the same. Worst of all Percival had died, scared, in agony, and completely alone.

But he was breathing now. His eyes were blue now. His hair was purple now. He woke up now.

Garreth had to keep repeating those four things in his mind like a mantra, just to hold himself together. It was the middle of the night but Garreth still sat in a chair next to Percival’s bed. He only left to attend classes, and even then only because he knew Percival’s would want the notes for the classes he missed. He claimed the reason he was there was so Idris could actually be dragged to bed, but he knew it was more. He had to see it for himself that Percival would keep breathing.

He’d heard people say they liked seeing the ones they loved asleep because it was the only time they looked relaxed and peacful. Percival didn’t look like that. He still looked dead. His skin was paler than it had any right to be. There were shadows under his eyes that made a dementor look cheerful. His face was a bit sunken and when open his eyes were hollow, like the life had been sucked from him. Even asleep he looked so exhausted.

Garret wasn’t sure why he did it, but he reached out and carefully brushed aside the violet strands of hair sticking to Percival’s forehead from sweat. Garreth just wished he could take this curse away. Or at least make it so it didn’t destroy him. He wanted to take care of, to make up for not being there. But he didn’t know what he could do.

“I’m sorry,” Garreth whispered, tears gathering in his eyes. “I shouldve been here. I should never have left you alone. But I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me now, Valley. I’ve got you.”

Again, he wasn’t sure what possessed him but he leaned forward to press the gentlest of kisses to Percival’s forehead. It was an attempt to offer him some sort of comfort, even in his sleep. That was all Garreth could really do. Offer comfort when he could. He couldn’t fix this. He just had to watch.

But if comfort was all he could give then he would give it. Always.

“I’ve got you,” Garreth murmured again. “I’ve got you, Perce.”

Will It Fit? One-Shot

WELCOME TO MY FIC DEBUT BAYBEE!!!!

Y'all can thank @matchstick6812 for being a true supportive QUEEN and encouraging me to post this!! (u are the light of my LYFE enjoy bestie)

Summary: Fitting room shenanigans inspired by this prompt: “You tried on a shirt that was too small in the store I work the changing rooms at and I had to help you out of it and now we’re making small talk” au from this post

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre/features: Retail AU, heavy flirting, lots of humor & references, some thirsting, usage of pet names bc I am WEAK FOR THESE MEN

Word Count: 2.9K

Rating: T but minors DNI this blog ain't for u my wee ones

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking/partying, s!ut used in a positive context, humor-laced distress at having to ask for help

Fic below the read more break!

You were practically floating through the mall, radiating the aura of freshly hit direct deposit from the paycheck that booty-dropped its way into your bank account last night. The only worry on your mind now was the fresh digs awaiting you on the rack at the new store that opened up. It was supposed to specialize in a mixture of club wear and unique fashion so you were excited when you saw its neon-lit display on the other side of your favorite smoothie spot. 

When you walked in with a smoothie adorned by a sassy straw, a baritone voice rang out to welcome you in. You gave them a quick smile, not at all surprised that the employees here are ridiculously attractive. The clerk folding clothes had soft brown hair with light curls that fell into his eyes and loose clothing that alluded to a fit silhouette. To be honest, it motivated you to find something in here that would make you feel as good as he looked. Your mission was set on obtaining a new top that would go well with the leather skirt you bought last month, so you filled your arms with any strappy and slutty contraption you could find in their late-night section while day-dreaming about all the free drinks you could get next Friday in the right look. 

Haul in tow, you strut yourself over to the fitting rooms, stopping yourself from catching the attention of the attendant that had his back turned to you. He was squatting down, ass looking fine as hell in black skinny jeans that tucked nicely into Chelsea boots. When he was about to stand, you cleared your throat to announce your presence, watching as he turned to you with a pleasant smile on his cherub face. His white collared shirt was tucked into the high-waisted jeans, accenting his slim waist, while silver earrings glistened in the bright lighting of the fitting rooms to compliment his jawline.

“How many sweetie?” He asked you, leaning against the counter. 

“Um, to be honest I didn’t count.” you laughed and he returned a polite chuckle while tapping the counter with his hand. You deposited the pile of clothes and sipped on your drink while you read the smudged words on the badge that hung around his neck that roughly equated to “once you” above his name - Jimin - “you can’t Jim-out” below it.

Lizzo’s “Good as Hell” rang out from the speakers while he counted the hangers and plucked up a bright pink placard. “We don’t allow drinks in the fitting rooms.” He pointed to a sign on the edge of the entrance that you had to turn around to see, and his bell-like laugh greeted your ears when he walked around the counter to kick the trash can further under the desk. “But I’ll let it pass this time because you’re cute.” He winked before grinning at you and spinning to lead you down the hall of mirrored doors. You pressed the cold drink to your hot cheeks as subtly as you could. “Name?” He called over his shoulder.

“Y/N.”

“That’s pretty.” He mumbled as he wrote your name out in bubble letters, opening the door to hang up your tops while his leg kept the door propped open. You drank your smoothie a little faster, trying not to admire the way the fabric flexed on his thighs or the fact that all the mirrors in the dressing room offered every angle on a silver platter. Girl, get a grip. Lizzo’s voice reminds you of your mission: to blow way too much of your paycheck on cute clothes to be the one that’s admired. 

“Thank you.” You squeaked out when he held the door open for you. 

“I’ll just be at the counter if you need a different size or anything. Feel free to call me - my name is Jimin!” He then went back to his post at the front of the area. Now safely secured in the bubble of your fitting room, Doja Cat came on the speakers like the universe was cheering you on. You briefly wondered if Jimin would like any of these on you. 

Slipping off your own shirt you shook your head, he probably helped dozens of people a day, you needed to vibe.

Your haul was relatively successful so far, some of the minidresses you picked out fit well and you had three top contenders to go with the leather skirt you were aiming to find a partner for, but now it was time to try on the shirt you picked off the clearance rank. Much like Mario Kart, you have some curves that men find enticing. This was your double edged sword in life because while you served the D to the E, to the L-I-C-I-O-U-S, dressing your assets did not come without its risks. You’ve had to jump into your jeans in front of college one-night-stands and risk a nip-slip at way too many pool parties to think this top was a good idea. It was gleaning on the edge of too small, and your tatas will either come out looking fierce or like an orange shoved into a glass. Still, you persisted like the warrior you are. Kesha did not raise a quitter.

It should have been simple really, the shirt was a black tube top with straps that rounded over the breasts up to your neck and then turned into fringe at the shoulders, but you were sure the entire store could hear you grunt and gasp and curse as the damned thing practically choked you like an anaconda. Fuck you Nicki Minaj, apparently this one don’t want none and we should have left it in the rainforest (read: clearance rack) where it belonged.

Finally pulling it over your face, you sucked in a loud gasp before tugging the zipper on the back up to your nape, satisfied. Hands on your hips, you looked in the mirror with a proud smirk. They had us in the first half, not gonna lie, but you were nothing if not determined to get a good deal. Clicking your tongue, you examined yourself in the mirror. The body of the shirt sat well and the fringe was fun, but the tatas were where the magic was supposed to happen and failed like a middle school talent show. It reminded you of when your bestie Mattie sent you a photo she took of when she shoved her knees into the neck of one of her favorite dresses during a stint she had on a dating app. You wished she was here to help you in and out of this monstrosity, and normally she would be heaux-ing it up with you, but she was busy traveling for work this weekend.

“A career woman,” you sighed dreamily, “just like Elle Woods.”

You reached forward for your drink, needing to refuel before getting back to business to defeat the funds. However, when you reached back for the zipper, your arm couldn't move all the way because of the constricting fabric.

“Damn anaconda,” You murmured, attempting to shove your arm into the shirt to pull it off you instead. Unfortunately, this was an even worse idea as now your elbow was definitely caught in the stupid plastic strap meant for the hanger and the top was out of stretch. Any more tugging and you’d Magic Mike this shit open. You pressed your forehead against the door, weighing out the option of living your life in this mirrored box. How much money would you need to doordash food here until the grim reaper needed to shop for a date night outfit too? Could a contractor walk you through installing a shower via phone call? You’ll probably have to cancel the subscription on your mobile games to conserve funds until you can score some sponsorships for “longest person to live in a fitting room” - is that a Guinness World Record? You’d look it up but you can’t waste battery life until Mattie gets back in town to bring you a charger from home. This is it. This is how you die. By an alien predator that sucks the oxygen from your body slowly but surely while disguised as a cheap fast-fashion shirt.

You hear the click clack of Chelsea boots and debate calling for Jimin. You wonder if he could round up some strong girls in the store to help you on the claim that you needed someone to hoist you higher to fix the lightbulb in here, but after glancing up you realize the store is perfectly intact - the damn maintenance crew did their job. Sighing, you call his name.

“Hey Jimin?” You hear him click a hanger onto a rack and walk over to your door.

“How can I help?”

“By chance, do you have any female employees?” His answering chuckle stung your heart like ice.

“I can assure you my fashion sense is as good as any-”

“No no! That’s not what I meant at all. I need help with a zipper.”

“O-oh.” He cleared his throat, “Well, I can look away once I have my hands on the zipper if that’s okay?” he suggested, clearly unsure.

You sighed, figuring this was as good as it was going to get unless you were going to become the next Buzzfeed article. You unlocked the door with your free hand, hesitating on the knob.

“You have to promise not to laugh.”

“I promise, sweetheart.” Jimin calls, voice gentle this time.

You whip open the door and see his eyes widen down at you through the slim gold rimmed glasses as he takes in your exposed skin and titties that looked more like two stuck together gumballs than cleavage. Jimin went from awe to clearly pressing his lips together in an attempt not to laugh when his eyes dropped down to your tyrannosaurus arm sticking out from the not-so-safety net that was your shirt.

“You promised.” You announced, face void of amusement.

“Right, yes, turn around and let me help.” Jimin gave you an apologetic smile, eyes sparkling with mischief that made your heart pound a little quicker.

You held your hair out of the way for him as he tugged the zipper down, freeing your neck from its confines. You went to wiggle your arm out, but you were still stuck in the unforgiving fabric tube.

“Uh,” Jimin hesitated, “Do you want me to help pull it up? I can close my eyes.”

“Honestly you’ll probably need them open,” You muttered, “This thing is more complicated than a damn knot in the boy scouts.” 

At this Jimin perked up “I was a boy scout!”

“I might make it out of here alive then.” His bell-like laugh released some of the tension in the room while he reached forward to slip his hands under the bottom of the shirt. 

Here’s where things got complicated. The straps routinely got caught in your earrings, Jimin had to maneuver your arms and hair in ten different directions, and you basically wrestled yourselves deeper into the fitting room with a flurry of cuss words and grunts until he perched a boot onto the bench and sat you down to finally pull the last strip of the shirt from your arms. You were pretty sure you heard the alien shirt scream out “I’ll see you in hell!” so you made sure to get out “You tell them who sent you!” through a mouthful of polyester. You fell back against the mirrored wall, panting from battle, while he caught his breath holding the offending garment in his fist.

Jimin reached up to push his hair off his forehead and squinted at the rough paper that brushed against his hand.

“The clearance rack?” He muttered, holding up the tag with a neon yellow mark-down sticker. “No fucking wonder no one’s left with this yet.” Jimin looked up at you with a smile to celebrate the victory of freeing you when he realized you were sitting in jeans and a bra, and you came to the same conclusion as you snatched your shirt up to cover your chest. His cool facade cracked as he all but bolted out, red in the face and not from physical exertion, and closed the door behind him.

You can thank Rihanna for teaching you better than to go shopping in granny undies, if you had to be half naked in front of Jimin, an opaque lacy bra was the way to go.

“Y/N?” Speaking of the devil, he called for you from the hallway.

“Yes?” You didn’t mean to sound as breathless as you did, but you’d blame it on the amatuer wrestling even under oath. Really, you should have tried out for WWE, that would have solved a lot of your issues today. You’d be training under spotlights, bouncing on your heels, throwing chairs at worthy opponents instead of guys that look at your bestie wrong. Honestly, it’s amazing you haven’t been banned from more clubs. Maybe Mattie would be willing to pour a pitcher of water over you in the corner of the ring.

Jimin’s voice interrupted your thought choo-choo with a sultry tone, and you could practically hear a smirk adorn his face “How about I stay here and help you choose what you want to take home?” 

You grinned, “I’d like that.”

Jimin patiently leaned against the opposing fitting room as you tried on several more - correctly sized - tops and minidresses, and the only time he left your side was to pick out a few things he felt would look good on you. You couldn’t stop smiling every time he would compliment the way dresses sat on your curves or comment on which shirt would go well with the skirt you showed him a photo of. He even found a cute pair of shorts for you to match with some blouses once spring hits. You spoke about your favorite seasons, fashion icons, music artists, and he even shared some funny jokes from when he played a whisper challenge game with his friends. His coworker - who was also his best friend - even came over to join in on the story-telling when there was a lack of customers of the floor, and you were probably imagining the possessive glint that flashed across Jimin’s eyes when you giggled at some of Taehyung’s jokes.

Jimin would switch between being the sweetest gentleman to unabashed flirt in the span of seconds, practically giving you whiplash. You, however, were matching him head-on by serving your own winks or asking for help with zippers you definitely could have done on your own. When Jimin realized you were on your last dress, he took his time pulling the zipper down so slowly you could practically hear the clink of each tooth while his other hand held your hip still. You pushed your hair over your shoulder and looked back at him with a flirty smile across your lips, watching Jimin bite his lower lip when he grinned at you and backed away so you could finish changing. 

Back to being a gentleman, he took every single item in the fitting room for you, placing the garments that were vetoed out on a rack to sort later and strutting the rest up to the register while you trailed behind him. You were a little disappointed your time with Jimin was up, and you idly wondered if you had the energy to try on half the store, but your smoothie was long finished and he technically had a job to do. 

“You know, we’re having a sale next weekend if you want to find something on a good deal that won’t strangle you. I can set some things aside if you think you’ll be here.” Jimin mentioned idly as he rang up your purchase, eyes flitting up to yours briefly.

You gesture to the pile of clothes he was folding into the bag and laughed, “Depends on if I can afford the damages.” Jimin raised a perfect brow at you from under his ashy bangs while he punched a few keys on the computer.

Suddenly Taehyung called for your attention, he was holding a trash bag from the back and held it out for your empty cup, a boxy smile adorning his face when you thanked him.

Jimin flashed you another one of his cherub smiles and spun the card reader around for you. Brows furrowed, you mouthed the prices of the clothes to yourself while trying to figure out why the total seemed so low. Then it hit you, he had punched in his employee discount. Your jaw dropped and eyes widened as you looked up at him to dispute the generous offer, but he had his index finger pressed to his lips while leaning his chin into his hand. A raised eyebrow further challenged you to refuse him, and you found yourself thanking him repeatedly instead. 

“I’ll come back,” you promised with a smile, “I’ll be needing some accessories anyway.”

He smirked as he scribbled something onto your printed receipt and promptly tucked it into the bag, holding it out for you.

“Have a great night!” Taehyung called behind the boxes he was carrying.

“You both as well!” You called over your shoulder, pulling out the receipt to see what message Jimin had left for you.

Call me! :) was tucked under your total with a number, and you threw him a wink before disappearing from his sight. 

Hope y'all enjoyed!!! Let me know your thoughts!

Taglist: @greattriumphbear (ty for being incredible and my first tag u beautiful creature)

Will It Fit? One-Shot

WELCOME TO MY FIC DEBUT BAYBEE!!!!

Y'all can thank @matchstick6812 for being a true supportive QUEEN and encouraging me to post this!! (u are the light of my LYFE enjoy bestie)

Summary: Fitting room shenanigans inspired by this prompt: “You tried on a shirt that was too small in the store I work the changing rooms at and I had to help you out of it and now we’re making small talk” au from this post

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre/features: Retail AU, heavy flirting, lots of humor & references, some thirsting, usage of pet names bc I am WEAK FOR THESE MEN

Word Count: 2.9K

Rating: T but minors DNI this blog ain't for u my wee ones

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking/partying, s!ut used in a positive context, humor-laced distress at having to ask for help

Fic below the read more break!

You were practically floating through the mall, radiating the aura of freshly hit direct deposit from the paycheck that booty-dropped its way into your bank account last night. The only worry on your mind now was the fresh digs awaiting you on the rack at the new store that opened up. It was supposed to specialize in a mixture of club wear and unique fashion so you were excited when you saw its neon-lit display on the other side of your favorite smoothie spot. 

When you walked in with a smoothie adorned by a sassy straw, a baritone voice rang out to welcome you in. You gave them a quick smile, not at all surprised that the employees here are ridiculously attractive. The clerk folding clothes had soft brown hair with light curls that fell into his eyes and loose clothing that alluded to a fit silhouette. To be honest, it motivated you to find something in here that would make you feel as good as he looked. Your mission was set on obtaining a new top that would go well with the leather skirt you bought last month, so you filled your arms with any strappy and slutty contraption you could find in their late-night section while day-dreaming about all the free drinks you could get next Friday in the right look. 

Haul in tow, you strut yourself over to the fitting rooms, stopping yourself from catching the attention of the attendant that had his back turned to you. He was squatting down, ass looking fine as hell in black skinny jeans that tucked nicely into Chelsea boots. When he was about to stand, you cleared your throat to announce your presence, watching as he turned to you with a pleasant smile on his cherub face. His white collared shirt was tucked into the high-waisted jeans, accenting his slim waist, while silver earrings glistened in the bright lighting of the fitting rooms to compliment his jawline.

“How many sweetie?” He asked you, leaning against the counter. 

“Um, to be honest I didn’t count.” you laughed and he returned a polite chuckle while tapping the counter with his hand. You deposited the pile of clothes and sipped on your drink while you read the smudged words on the badge that hung around his neck that roughly equated to “once you” above his name - Jimin - “you can’t Jim-out” below it.

Lizzo’s “Good as Hell” rang out from the speakers while he counted the hangers and plucked up a bright pink placard. “We don’t allow drinks in the fitting rooms.” He pointed to a sign on the edge of the entrance that you had to turn around to see, and his bell-like laugh greeted your ears when he walked around the counter to kick the trash can further under the desk. “But I’ll let it pass this time because you’re cute.” He winked before grinning at you and spinning to lead you down the hall of mirrored doors. You pressed the cold drink to your hot cheeks as subtly as you could. “Name?” He called over his shoulder.

“Y/N.”

“That’s pretty.” He mumbled as he wrote your name out in bubble letters, opening the door to hang up your tops while his leg kept the door propped open. You drank your smoothie a little faster, trying not to admire the way the fabric flexed on his thighs or the fact that all the mirrors in the dressing room offered every angle on a silver platter. Girl, get a grip. Lizzo’s voice reminds you of your mission: to blow way too much of your paycheck on cute clothes to be the one that’s admired. 

“Thank you.” You squeaked out when he held the door open for you. 

“I’ll just be at the counter if you need a different size or anything. Feel free to call me - my name is Jimin!” He then went back to his post at the front of the area. Now safely secured in the bubble of your fitting room, Doja Cat came on the speakers like the universe was cheering you on. You briefly wondered if Jimin would like any of these on you. 

Slipping off your own shirt you shook your head, he probably helped dozens of people a day, you needed to vibe.

Your haul was relatively successful so far, some of the minidresses you picked out fit well and you had three top contenders to go with the leather skirt you were aiming to find a partner for, but now it was time to try on the shirt you picked off the clearance rank. Much like Mario Kart, you have some curves that men find enticing. This was your double edged sword in life because while you served the D to the E, to the L-I-C-I-O-U-S, dressing your assets did not come without its risks. You’ve had to jump into your jeans in front of college one-night-stands and risk a nip-slip at way too many pool parties to think this top was a good idea. It was gleaning on the edge of too small, and your tatas will either come out looking fierce or like an orange shoved into a glass. Still, you persisted like the warrior you are. Kesha did not raise a quitter.

It should have been simple really, the shirt was a black tube top with straps that rounded over the breasts up to your neck and then turned into fringe at the shoulders, but you were sure the entire store could hear you grunt and gasp and curse as the damned thing practically choked you like an anaconda. Fuck you Nicki Minaj, apparently this one don’t want none and we should have left it in the rainforest (read: clearance rack) where it belonged.

Finally pulling it over your face, you sucked in a loud gasp before tugging the zipper on the back up to your nape, satisfied. Hands on your hips, you looked in the mirror with a proud smirk. They had us in the first half, not gonna lie, but you were nothing if not determined to get a good deal. Clicking your tongue, you examined yourself in the mirror. The body of the shirt sat well and the fringe was fun, but the tatas were where the magic was supposed to happen and failed like a middle school talent show. It reminded you of when your bestie Mattie sent you a photo she took of when she shoved her knees into the neck of one of her favorite dresses during a stint she had on a dating app. You wished she was here to help you in and out of this monstrosity, and normally she would be heaux-ing it up with you, but she was busy traveling for work this weekend.

“A career woman,” you sighed dreamily, “just like Elle Woods.”

You reached forward for your drink, needing to refuel before getting back to business to defeat the funds. However, when you reached back for the zipper, your arm couldn't move all the way because of the constricting fabric.

“Damn anaconda,” You murmured, attempting to shove your arm into the shirt to pull it off you instead. Unfortunately, this was an even worse idea as now your elbow was definitely caught in the stupid plastic strap meant for the hanger and the top was out of stretch. Any more tugging and you’d Magic Mike this shit open. You pressed your forehead against the door, weighing out the option of living your life in this mirrored box. How much money would you need to doordash food here until the grim reaper needed to shop for a date night outfit too? Could a contractor walk you through installing a shower via phone call? You’ll probably have to cancel the subscription on your mobile games to conserve funds until you can score some sponsorships for “longest person to live in a fitting room” - is that a Guinness World Record? You’d look it up but you can’t waste battery life until Mattie gets back in town to bring you a charger from home. This is it. This is how you die. By an alien predator that sucks the oxygen from your body slowly but surely while disguised as a cheap fast-fashion shirt.

You hear the click clack of Chelsea boots and debate calling for Jimin. You wonder if he could round up some strong girls in the store to help you on the claim that you needed someone to hoist you higher to fix the lightbulb in here, but after glancing up you realize the store is perfectly intact - the damn maintenance crew did their job. Sighing, you call his name.

“Hey Jimin?” You hear him click a hanger onto a rack and walk over to your door.

“How can I help?”

“By chance, do you have any female employees?” His answering chuckle stung your heart like ice.

“I can assure you my fashion sense is as good as any-”

“No no! That’s not what I meant at all. I need help with a zipper.”

“O-oh.” He cleared his throat, “Well, I can look away once I have my hands on the zipper if that’s okay?” he suggested, clearly unsure.

You sighed, figuring this was as good as it was going to get unless you were going to become the next Buzzfeed article. You unlocked the door with your free hand, hesitating on the knob.

“You have to promise not to laugh.”

“I promise, sweetheart.” Jimin calls, voice gentle this time.

You whip open the door and see his eyes widen down at you through the slim gold rimmed glasses as he takes in your exposed skin and titties that looked more like two stuck together gumballs than cleavage. Jimin went from awe to clearly pressing his lips together in an attempt not to laugh when his eyes dropped down to your tyrannosaurus arm sticking out from the not-so-safety net that was your shirt.

“You promised.” You announced, face void of amusement.

“Right, yes, turn around and let me help.” Jimin gave you an apologetic smile, eyes sparkling with mischief that made your heart pound a little quicker.

You held your hair out of the way for him as he tugged the zipper down, freeing your neck from its confines. You went to wiggle your arm out, but you were still stuck in the unforgiving fabric tube.

“Uh,” Jimin hesitated, “Do you want me to help pull it up? I can close my eyes.”

“Honestly you’ll probably need them open,” You muttered, “This thing is more complicated than a damn knot in the boy scouts.” 

At this Jimin perked up “I was a boy scout!”

“I might make it out of here alive then.” His bell-like laugh released some of the tension in the room while he reached forward to slip his hands under the bottom of the shirt. 

Here’s where things got complicated. The straps routinely got caught in your earrings, Jimin had to maneuver your arms and hair in ten different directions, and you basically wrestled yourselves deeper into the fitting room with a flurry of cuss words and grunts until he perched a boot onto the bench and sat you down to finally pull the last strip of the shirt from your arms. You were pretty sure you heard the alien shirt scream out “I’ll see you in hell!” so you made sure to get out “You tell them who sent you!” through a mouthful of polyester. You fell back against the mirrored wall, panting from battle, while he caught his breath holding the offending garment in his fist.

Jimin reached up to push his hair off his forehead and squinted at the rough paper that brushed against his hand.

“The clearance rack?” He muttered, holding up the tag with a neon yellow mark-down sticker. “No fucking wonder no one’s left with this yet.” Jimin looked up at you with a smile to celebrate the victory of freeing you when he realized you were sitting in jeans and a bra, and you came to the same conclusion as you snatched your shirt up to cover your chest. His cool facade cracked as he all but bolted out, red in the face and not from physical exertion, and closed the door behind him.

You can thank Rihanna for teaching you better than to go shopping in granny undies, if you had to be half naked in front of Jimin, an opaque lacy bra was the way to go.

“Y/N?” Speaking of the devil, he called for you from the hallway.

“Yes?” You didn’t mean to sound as breathless as you did, but you’d blame it on the amatuer wrestling even under oath. Really, you should have tried out for WWE, that would have solved a lot of your issues today. You’d be training under spotlights, bouncing on your heels, throwing chairs at worthy opponents instead of guys that look at your bestie wrong. Honestly, it’s amazing you haven’t been banned from more clubs. Maybe Mattie would be willing to pour a pitcher of water over you in the corner of the ring.

Jimin’s voice interrupted your thought choo-choo with a sultry tone, and you could practically hear a smirk adorn his face “How about I stay here and help you choose what you want to take home?” 

You grinned, “I’d like that.”

Jimin patiently leaned against the opposing fitting room as you tried on several more - correctly sized - tops and minidresses, and the only time he left your side was to pick out a few things he felt would look good on you. You couldn’t stop smiling every time he would compliment the way dresses sat on your curves or comment on which shirt would go well with the skirt you showed him a photo of. He even found a cute pair of shorts for you to match with some blouses once spring hits. You spoke about your favorite seasons, fashion icons, music artists, and he even shared some funny jokes from when he played a whisper challenge game with his friends. His coworker - who was also his best friend - even came over to join in on the story-telling when there was a lack of customers of the floor, and you were probably imagining the possessive glint that flashed across Jimin’s eyes when you giggled at some of Taehyung’s jokes.

Jimin would switch between being the sweetest gentleman to unabashed flirt in the span of seconds, practically giving you whiplash. You, however, were matching him head-on by serving your own winks or asking for help with zippers you definitely could have done on your own. When Jimin realized you were on your last dress, he took his time pulling the zipper down so slowly you could practically hear the clink of each tooth while his other hand held your hip still. You pushed your hair over your shoulder and looked back at him with a flirty smile across your lips, watching Jimin bite his lower lip when he grinned at you and backed away so you could finish changing. 

Back to being a gentleman, he took every single item in the fitting room for you, placing the garments that were vetoed out on a rack to sort later and strutting the rest up to the register while you trailed behind him. You were a little disappointed your time with Jimin was up, and you idly wondered if you had the energy to try on half the store, but your smoothie was long finished and he technically had a job to do. 

“You know, we’re having a sale next weekend if you want to find something on a good deal that won’t strangle you. I can set some things aside if you think you’ll be here.” Jimin mentioned idly as he rang up your purchase, eyes flitting up to yours briefly.

You gesture to the pile of clothes he was folding into the bag and laughed, “Depends on if I can afford the damages.” Jimin raised a perfect brow at you from under his ashy bangs while he punched a few keys on the computer.

Suddenly Taehyung called for your attention, he was holding a trash bag from the back and held it out for your empty cup, a boxy smile adorning his face when you thanked him.

Jimin flashed you another one of his cherub smiles and spun the card reader around for you. Brows furrowed, you mouthed the prices of the clothes to yourself while trying to figure out why the total seemed so low. Then it hit you, he had punched in his employee discount. Your jaw dropped and eyes widened as you looked up at him to dispute the generous offer, but he had his index finger pressed to his lips while leaning his chin into his hand. A raised eyebrow further challenged you to refuse him, and you found yourself thanking him repeatedly instead. 

“I’ll come back,” you promised with a smile, “I’ll be needing some accessories anyway.”

He smirked as he scribbled something onto your printed receipt and promptly tucked it into the bag, holding it out for you.

“Have a great night!” Taehyung called behind the boxes he was carrying.

“You both as well!” You called over your shoulder, pulling out the receipt to see what message Jimin had left for you.

Call me! :) was tucked under your total with a number, and you threw him a wink before disappearing from his sight. 

Hope y'all enjoyed!!! Let me know your thoughts!

Taglist: @greattriumphbear (ty for being incredible and my first tag u beautiful creature)

My first ever prompt fill!!!

I"m absolutely BUZZING!!!! This is the best news, my family's ordering pizza to celebrate, this is the best! I really really appreciate the thorough crediting, and hope this can bring more people to both our accounts! Thank you for writing out my prompt!!!! It's wonderfully written, I had a blast with the ending, and your insight into their conversations hit my heartstrings! Everyone please go check it out! It's 854 words, no excuse! (cough cough, my one friend who can't read fics above 3000 words)

New story!

Inspired by a prompt from @geraskierfanficprompts here's a short oneshot about Geralt discovering a cursed lute.

The trader greeted Geralt with a grateful clap on the back and bid him take any of his priceless items that Geralt chose. Looking about the collection, Geralt saw many an unusual item - shrunken heads, possessed urns, boxes that could only be opened with a drop of the owner's blood. But what drew his attention was a handsome looking lute. It was engraved with tiny painted buttercups. Geralt's heart lurched at the thought of Jaskier. Having made his decision, Geralt took the lute. It was a perfect reminder of his companion and would make a wonderful gift for Jaskier should he find his way back into Geralt's life.

Returning to his rented rooms, Geralt was about to set down the lute on the bedside cabinet when he noticed a slip of paper stuck between the strings. Opening the folded parchment, Geralt read:

Do not play this instrument under any circumstances. It is cursed.

Geralt rolled his eyes; it was just typical that he had chosen a cursed item.

Read the full fic on ao3

Hellooo!!! I need some help 😅 so I just started this tyler x reader fanfic bur I'm kinda unsure about posting it cuz it's super random and probably gonna be pretty angsty if you interested here's some small description of the fic

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

A tyler x reader fanfic where reader is a part of a mafia family! (Inspiration from moxxie and his dad in helluva boss!) Reader wasn't answering her phone for a day or so on a weekend because her mom (the mafia boss!) Had her doing some extra work and Hadden had time so tyler went to check on you and learned about your life style even though you tryed so hard to hide it!

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

Theres probably gonna be some abuse themes to it and just angest with some comfort at the end? Idk, it's pretty random but should I post it when I'm done? Does it sound interesting?

I posted it before thi poll finished lol here's a link if you wanna read it!

😢

“Things you said too quietly” or “things you said I wish you hadn’t” for the mini fic thingy? 🥺🥺🥺

(also hiiiii I really like your fics! please have a nice day!!)

3. things you said too quietly / 17. things you said that i wish you hadn’t

trigun maximum, vashmeryl, post-canon — love and grief and fear.

“Hey,” Meryl says. She catches Vash by the wrist and he tries very hard not to flinch. “Can I tell you something?”

Vash knows she’s not asking.

He stops trying to take his leave — like a coward, he knows, but she was home alone when he fit the spare key she foisted on him a year or so back into the lock on her door, and there’s only so long he can talk around the various elephants in the room without Milly’s easy, charismatic small talk as a buffer. Only so long he can ignore the empty space at his side.

"Yeah?" he asks, putting on the smile, thin and watery as he knows it is.

Meryl hasn't let go of his hand. "It was good seeing you. I know coming by so often is hard for you, but I'm glad you do. It makes me happy."

She swallows, wets her lips with her tongue, and Vash sees the words on her face before they spill out, catching in her throat, soft and terrible.

"I love you, you know."

He does know. He's known for years, even before the world ended and she came back to him reborn from the fire with her eyes wet and bright as twin suns.

That doesn't make it any easier to hear.

Meryl squeezes his wrist, lets him go.

Vash doesn't look back. He knows what he'll see, just like he knew what she'd say. No expectation, but something a little like hope. Optimism, maybe.

She should know better.

He shouldn't have given her hope.

Nearly every fiber of Vash's being wants him to bolt. Run for the dunes and never come back, never see her face again until she's old and grey and he's not tempted by the possibility of decades stretching out ahead.

It would be safer for both of them.

"Meryl," Vash hears himself say, low and strained. "Now?"

She laughs, just as low, just as strained. "I keep wondering whether I'm ever going to see you again, and I don’t want to not have said it."

Vash squeezes his eyes shut. Breathes deep and slow and deliberate through the vice around his chest. "I can't—"

"I know. It's okay."

No, it isn't.

And there's nothing he can do about it but turn back, reach out — catch her hand, hold it tight.

So he does.

Angel Shot

@britishassistant

May I offer a Steter AU where Stiles is a regular at Peter's bar and orders the safeword drink to escape a bad date, and Peter has to try very hard to not murder said bad date while helping Stiles escape, in this trying time?

  I’m not sure if this is what you wanted, but I tried my best.

Words: 1355

  Peter has been working as a bartender at club Alpha for years now.

His family has run the club for generations and Peter was previously the owner before he gave that title to his nephew Derek, instead choosing to work at the bar.

Being a bartender means he's seen a lot of different faces and dealt with a handful of situations, one of which being a blind date gone south.

Just like right now.

A young man who Peter's seen for months now walked to the bar with another man behind him.

The guy's a regular, one whose sarcastic remarks he's become very fond of, so Peter can easily tell how uncomfortable he is. Instead of reacting though, he waits for them to come to him.

Stiles, as Peter vaguely remembers his nephew calling him, looked annoyed as the slightly older man clung to him.

Peter could feel the disgust working its way onto his face, but he stopped himself just in time for the two to stop in front of him. "Hey, can I get an Angel Shot?"

An angel shot, code for "Help me ditch this dude." Peter could feel rage boiling inside him as the man beside Stiles kept putting his hands lower than they should be whenever Stiles pushed them away.

Of course, he couldn't let the disgusting filth of a man catch on to what Stiles wanted. So Peter kept calm and asked normally, "How would you like that?" "Neat, please."

Peter nodded and moved to the side where one of the security was hanging around. Once he made sure the filth wasn't paying attention to him, he whispered to them.

"Ethan, kid. I need you to distract someone for me while I walk someone out." Peter pointed to a clearly uncomfortable Stiles, who was trying to get away from the filth bothering him.

Ethan nodded to Peter and whispered into the ear of the guy sitting next to him before standing and holding a hand out for him to grab.

Peter watched as Ethan pulled his lover towards Stiles and the trash next to him.

To anyone who didn't know them, Ethan and his lover Danny would seem like regular visitors, since only a few of the security wear uniforms.

It makes it easier to catch someone in the act of doing something if they don't know that you're security, since normal bystanders usually won't do anything.

Peter asked another bartender to keep watch while he dealt with something, all the while watching as Danny and Ethan danced just a bit away from Stiles and the filth.

Peter watched as Stiles told the filth something, likely an excuse to get away, but the man looked increasingly frustrated.

Just before anything could get out of hand, Danny accidentally bumped into him, apologizing repeatedly.

Danny looked embarrassed about the incident and offered to buy the man a drink as Ethan blocked the man's view from Stiles, giving him the space to sneak out.

Ethan subtly pointed Stiles towards Peter, who was now waiting at the end of the bar for him.

Looking at the scene, Peter would say they deserved an Oscar for their acting, but he pushed that away to focus on Stiles, who was more important at the moment.

Stiles rushed towards Peter, sending a silent thanks to the two security guards.

Peter was quick to push them both through the crowd and out the back door, leading them to the back parking lot where only a few cars were parked.

The back parking lot was usually reserved for staff, but Stiles, the friend to many of the workers as well as Peter's nephew himself, was allowed a pass.

The two of them tried to walk the few feet to Stiles' jeep but stopped when Stiles kept stumbling. Stiles almost tripped on his own feet if it wasn't for Peter being quick enough to catch him.

Peter pressed the back of his hand to Stiles' forehead carefully. "Kid, how much did you drink?"

Peter pulled back just enough to get a better look at Stiles now that they were covered in light from the nearby lamppost. The kid was a mess.

He was slightly dazed, his face was a bit heated, and he could barely keep himself up on his own without Peter holding him up. Despite all of that, Stiles pushed Peter away lightly and tried to wave him off.

"I'm fine. I only had a few shots." Peter gave him an incredulous look, his eyebrow raising skeptically. "Please. You look like shit, and you're about to fall right now."

As Peter said that, Stiles was in fact leaning a bit too far to the side. Peter quickly placed a hand around his waist to hold him up, deciding to ignore the increase of heat in Stiles' face.. for now.

"Ha ha. Very funny. You must be Peter." Peter gave Stiles a look. "And how exactly did you guess my name by that?" Stiles chuckled as Peter helped him sit on the curb next to his jeep.

"Being painfully honest seems to be a family trait. Besides, the puppies mention you a lot."

Stopping midway from texting Scott to look at Stiles, who was now drunkenly ethereal-looking under the streetlights, Peter put up a sarcastic attitude. "Good things I'd hope, but I highly doubt that."

Stiles snorted. "They called you a manipulative psycho with a blunt attitude and sarcastic tongue." Peter scoffed before sending a text to Scott and putting his phone away as he moved to sit next to Stiles.

"Glad to see they think so highly of me." Peter smirked as Stiles laughed. "Do you think I'm what they say I am after this little interaction of ours?" "Yep."

Peter shook his head with a look of mock hurt, even going as far as placing a hand on his chest. "Not even a moment's hesitation. How upsetting. Even after I just helped you escape the club unnoticed."

Peter sighed dramatically. "Where is my thanks?" Peter looked up just in time to notice Stiles moving just the slightest bit closer. "My knight in shining armor-" Stiles looked Peter up and down with a grin.

"-or slacks." Stiles leaned back just a bit before giving Peter a look. "Maybe I can show you my thanks tomorrow when you have the day off."

Peter had to restrain himself from jumping the kid at the implication in his suggestion. "I don't have the day off tomorrow." "You do now."

Stiles gave him a flirtatious look and Peter had to stop himself again from rushing forward. Instead, he asked him with his eyebrow raised, "And how exactly do you plan to change my schedule?"

Stiles hummed as he shrugged. "You're not the only one who can be manipulative when you wanna be."

Despite the way he acted earlier, Stiles looked almost sober as he said that, licking his lips and glancing at Peter's.

Peter started to lean forward, but they were interrupted by the sound of someone calling out for Stiles. Peter looked frustrated at the interruption as Stiles smirked, as if he expected this.

There, walking towards them, was Scott McCall. Derek's business partner and Stiles' childhood best friend.

At the tension between them, Scott gave the two a look before helping Stiles into the passenger seat and driving off after a quick thanks to Peter, who was now alone.

Peter returned to his station to find the trash from earlier nowhere in sight. For the rest of the night, all Peter could think of was Stiles and what he implied earlier.

He felt resentful towards Scott for having the worst timing. The only thing that made up for it was a text from an unknown number early the next morning.

Unknown: Hey, this is Stiles Realized I didn't give you my number last night

Peter jumped out of bed the moment he read the texts, all of his previous bitter tiredness out the window.

Stiles: Mind meeting up for drinks? Then I can thank you properly

At that, Peter was dressed and rushing out the door to meet Stiles.

Leave a request in the Ask tab. I’ll get to them later.

Alright! I finished the one request I got! It's in a continuity separate from my other fics, but it should in fact work with the episode that came out a few weeks ago, so! That was kinda fun. Requests are still open, so if you like what you read feel free to shoot me more ideas. :3

So, the request was:

annabeththeunicorn answered: I’d like to see Norman loes control of his powers and start destroying things and how the others deal with that.

And here it is. Annabeth, I hope you enjoy~

               “Watch—watch your right!” Dipper called, and his sister narrowly dodged the creature’s claws as it swung at her. She darted around it to where he was hiding behind half of a huge rotted-out tree and they clung to each other for a moment, panting. Dipper turned to peer through a chink in the old log to try plotting an escape route; he never would have expected to run across another gremloblin while ghost hunting, but then again the forest was always full of weird stuff. He hoped the others were okay; the blue of Coraline’s hair poked through some bushes, and he knew Wybie was with her. Neil and Norman were stuck opposite of the twins with the angry beast stamping the fern glade flat between them, and a cliff behind them meant there was no escape that way. Normally a rampaging creature wouldn’t be such a problem for the group, but their main firepower had been called away on official Psychonauts business and left about a day ago, and now they had to figure a way out of this themselves.

               “This is bonkers,” Mabel sighed, as if reading her brother’s mind. “If we had a mirror this would be easy.”

               “Yeah, or even Wybie’s net gun—shh!” Dipper said, shoving his sister down and ducking himself. The gremloblin’s ears twitched, and it turned to stare in their direction, growling deeply.

               “What does he even want? It’s not like we meant to knock that boulder onto his head,” Mabel continued more quietly, and her brother rolled his eyes.

               “We can’t worry about it now. If we could create some kind of diversion to get it to go the other way… no Mabel, you can’t be the diversion! We all have to get away. Augh, why is this so hard?”

               “We hear ya,” Coraline huffed, suddenly beside them, and Wybie crept up behind her. “We tried coming up with our own plan, but the best we could come up with was maybe throw something over Ugly’s eyes and run. Question is, what?”

               “Better than anything I was thinking,” Dipper said with a shrug. “Mabel… no chance you could weave a blanket out of leaves or something…?”

               “Nope. I’ve tried…” she answered, frowning, and Dipper kicked the ground.

               “M-maybe we could throw something in his eyes instead. Kind of a dirty trick, but it works in movies… and I’d rather not find out what my worst nightmare is,” Wybie suggested, and the others nodded.

               “I’ve read about it. Usually it’s sand or something, but dirt should work too,” Dipper said, scooping up a handful of soil, but Coraline grabbed his wrist.

               “Okay, sounds great, but let’s make sure the person doing the throwing can actually aim, okay?”

               “What? You think I can’t? I can guarantee you that—“

               “After half an hour of calculations, yeah, you could do it! But we wanna get out of here right now.”

               They froze as a roar shook the forest, and watched as the gremloblin uprooted a small tree and hurled it into the underbrush where Coraline and Wybie had been hiding, and they exchanged fearful glances. The monster was getting impatient and angry its quarry hadn’t revealed itself yet, and they knew they didn’t have much time. It listened for a bit, then began sniffing around, and they watched anxiously as it drew nearer and nearer to where Neil and Norman were hiding. With less cover on that side of the glade, they had nowhere else to go.

               “Hey monster!” Dipper shouted, leaping over the edge of the rotted log and waving his arms. “When was the last time you flossed?”

               Coraline smacked her forehead into her hand, then leapt to join him, though at a slightly different location. “Yeah! I’ve seen slugs prettier than you!”

               The gremloblin bellowed and grabbed another tree, roots cracking sharply as it was pulled from the ground. The two tormentors ducked back down and ran, waving at the others to do the same, and they all regrouped behind another large tree as the old stump was shattered by the gremloblin’s attack. They still weren’t much closer to the rest of their friends, but at least they’d diverted the creature’s attention and could sort of see Neil crouched among tangled roots.

               Dipper watched the gremloblin pick through their former shelter’s remains, then everyone flinched as it howled in rage and whirled to scan the surrounding forest, sniffing the air and working its way over once more. Thinking fast, Coraline picked up a hefty branch laying at her feet and threw it with all her might, flinging it across the clearing to land loudly in the ferns opposite of them. The gremloblin spun to look, ears perked and livid red eyes wide and almost hopeful.

               It was at this moment Neil decided to run, chunky legs carrying him as fast as they could, but not as quietly. The gremloblin whirled on him, and with another roar it leapt, missing the boy by inches as he bowled into the others. It landed face-first, thudding hard into the forest floor and showering the disorganized group with decomposing pine needles. Apparently winded, the creature struggled to move, and they took the chance to run to new cover—a thick bed of ferns dotted by large boulders.

               “Okay, everyone here?” Coraline asked when they’d settled, brushing hair out of her eyes as she looked over the group.

               “Norman’s still over there,” Neil answered, a note of panic in his voice. “I thought he would run with me, but then he didn’t but I couldn’t stop myself.”

               “It’s okay Neil, we can figure this out,” Dipper reassured him. “Norman’s smart anyway, maybe he knew he wouldn’t have made it in time. Look, he’s sneaking around now.”

               They watched as the medium darted from one tree to the next, heading away from the monster who was still recovering from its wild attack. They silently cheered him on; if anyone was known for being quiet it was him. He got as far as he could, but eventually reached a point where the trees were too thin even for someone like him to hide behind, and there was nothing for it but to dart across the ruined glen.

               With a thud, the gremloblin landed in front of him, casting the small boy in its shadow. The group gasped; all they could see was the beast’s hairy back and Norman’s feet stumbling over debris as he tried to backpedal out of the way. Coraline cast about for more things to throw, but there were only small twigs and leaves around here, nothing good and solid. Judging by how the creature had lunged forward though, it was probably already too late.

               “Hey guys… what do you think Norman’s worst nightmare would be, anyway?” Dipper wondered, and Coraline grimaced at his morbid curiosity.

               “Probably something with zombies… right?” Wybie replied, then an inhuman yelp interrupted their thoughts.

               The gremloblin was backing away and nursing a hand, a strange sort of whimper rising in its throat. A breeze kicked up, barely noticeable, but it forced Coraline to brush strands of hair out of her eyes again, then cover them as a hot yellow flash burst in the clearing with the sound of thunder. The gremloblin was blasted into a tree behind them and knocked unconscious, its mold-green skin and hair singed and smoking. They watched it wake up and scramble backwards and off into the forest howling piteously before turning to see what had sent it running in fear for its life.

               “Oh boy,” Dipper uttered, and he could feel Mabel cling to his vest.

               Norman stood rigid, his fists clenched as electricity flickered around him, casting the glade in sharp shadows. He wore a hurt expression—wrath and sadness combined in a way they’d never seen before. The lingering yellow glow of the gremloblin’s spell coupled with the eerie light of his own power flashed from his eyes, and they were left wondering if he was even aware of what was going on. They had thought the gremloblin was the worst of their problems, but really it’d only been the beginning.

               “Uh… Neil?” Coraline asked, nudging him in the side with her elbow, “Please tell me you know what’s going on.”

               “Um,” he replied hesitantly, gaze still fixed on his best friend, “well, sort of, but not exactly.”

               “What does that even mean?!” Coraline cried, throwing her hands up. “What is this, some sort of freak-out or medium thing?”

               “I dunno! I mean I guess it’s sorta like what he said Aggie did, only he wasn’t sentenced to death just now or anything,” Neil responded, his words pouring out so fast it was hard to follow over the snapping electricity.

               “W-wait, you mean the witch? You guys weren’t exaggerating?” Wybie asked, and Neil shook his head rapidly.

               “So we just gotta talk to him right?” Mabel asked, and her brother nodded.

               “Seems like it, I mean, that’s how he got Aggie to calm down, and since… well, since I don’t think he’s dead it’s not like we can’t talk to him so… worth a shot.”

               Neil thought for a moment, then stood tall, a determined look on his face. “I know what I must do.”

               “Uh… okay man, just be careful. I don’t think that’s normal lightning coming off him, but I don’t think it’s gonna feel too much better if you get hit, okay?” Dipper warned, and Neil gave him a look.

               “We’re best friends. He’s not gonna hurt me,” he said firmly, then edged his way around the rock, straightened up once more, and did his best to approach the medium as if nothing was wrong. Dipper was surprised at how close he got, but it was like Norman wasn’t really seeing anything; thinking back to the journal’s entry on gremloblins he remembered how victims of the nightmare gaze could remain trapped in their visions for days, unaware of the real world, and figured that’s what’d happened. But once Neil started talking, things changed.

               “Hey Norman? You okay?” he started nervously, and flinched as his friend’s burning eyes met his, but he stood his ground. “I think you need to calm down, like maybe watch a movie or something.”

               “I told you to leave me alone,” the medium hissed, and Neil took a step back.

               “Uh… no you didn’t?”

               “Of course you wouldn’t listen. No one ever listens to the freak.”

               “B-but I never said that,” Neil replied, his confidence failing faster than he’d expected. But then, he’d never expected Norman to be so venomous. Struggling, he tried to remember how his friend had said he’d told Aggie, how he’d spoken to her. “Uh, don’t you remember us, you know, being friends? And hanging out and stuff?”

               “You just wanted me to talk to your dead dog! You never wanted to be friends for real,” Norman replied, electricity flaring. The breeze blew harder, and a green mist was beginning to swirl at his feet.

               “Dipper… I’m starting to guess at what Norman’s nightmare was,” Coraline said quietly, and he turned to her. “Neil might need backup soon. Who’s with me?”

               The group raised their hands, and Coraline wished their troubled pal could see this. She only knew the basics of her family friend’s history, but it was enough to know he needed the support right now. Nodding to her friends, she surveyed the scene, looking for a good opportunity to step in. Neil seemed to be blanking on more to say, so now was good.

               “Norman, listen up!” she yelled, striding out until she was just behind Neil and planted a hand on his shoulder as she faced the medium. “Whatever’s going through your head right now, it’s not true! You’re quiet and kind of a nerd, but we know you’re not a liar, and you’re definitely not a freak!”

               “You’re just saying that! You only played with Courtney when we visited, why should I think you like me now?”

               “Ah, cripes… look, I’m sorry about that! I just always wanted a big sister, okay?” Coraline shot back, trying not to lose her cool. “What matters is right now! And right now, I’m worried about my little brother.”

               “Which you still don’t have,” came the bitter reply, and something about his expression made Coraline realize it hurt him as much to say this stuff as it did to be on the receiving end.

               “This is so messed up,” she muttered under her breath, and Neil nodded sadly.

               “This definitely seems more like Raz’s area of expertise,” he sighed, and Coraline tightened her grip on his shoulder.

               “Yeah, well guess who’s not here. We have to solve this ourselves.”

               A rustling behind them announced the twins and Wybie joining them; faced with more people, Norman backed away, arms held to his chest defensively and the lightning that danced around him flaring, but his friends held their ground, knowing they couldn’t back away. If they did, it might make him think they were abandoning him.

               “So you’re all here to make fun of me again?”

               “Norman, we never made fun of you! That was a vision, a lie! You’ve gotta give it some time, it should eventually wear off,” Dipper explained, stepping to the front. “At least I hope so,” he added in a much quieter voice. The journal hadn’t really been clear on how to cure someone of a gremloblin attack.

               “No, j-just—just leave me alone!” Norman pleaded, backing up further.

               “We’re not going anywhere,” Neil asserted, confidence bolstered now that the others had his back.

               “I said go away!”

               The fog that had been swirling lazily at the medium’s feet snapped into a thick tendril and whipped across the group, knocking them into the undergrowth. Coraline was the first up, and scanned the group; thankfully no one seemed hurt, but they had to find a way to end this quick. Noting Dipper was sitting up, she tapped his shoulder.

               “Okay ideas guy, time to think of something. This is only getting worse the more we talk to him, and I think maybe we actually should leave him alone… at least for a bit.”

               “Who knew Norman was so good at being mean, right?” Dipper sighed, “but that’s all the gremloblin’s fault. Maybe if we found out what exactly Norman saw, we can find a way to counteract it.”

               “I think it’s pretty obvious he saw us making fun of him or something, though I don’t know how that turned him into a human Tesla Coil,” Coraline huffed.

               “Me neither, but it’s gotta be related right? He didn’t do anything until after the gremloblin got to him. And if his ancestor did this when she was threatened with death…” Dipper trailed, hand at his chin as he pondered.

               “Whatever he saw… was as bad as that?” Wybie piped up, and Coraline realized he’d been next to her listening the whole time.

               “I guess so,” she answered softly, glancing back at their friend, who seemed to be staring into space again, lost in whatever nightmare world plagued him. “Maybe Dip’s onto something here. We just have to say something strong enough to break the spell.”

               “Or maybe a kiss, that always works in fairy tales!” Mabel piped up, and everyone looked at her with expressions that ranged from simply skeptical to disgust. She looked around at them and rolled her eyes. “Geez, I never said one of you guys had to do it.”

               “Mabel, do you want to get electrocuted?!” Dipper protested, and the others nodded.

               “Brother, please! Has anyone else noticed that so far, he hasn’t actually tried to hit us with anything besides the fog? And that didn’t even really hurt.”

               Dipper sat openmouthed, blinking. “Mabel, you’re right!”

               “Duh, I always am?”

               “It’s gotta mean that he doesn’t want to hurt us one way or another.”

               “I told you he wouldn’t,” Neil grinned. “So what do we do? Keep talking to him?”

               “So far, that hasn’t worked,” Wybie pointed out.

               “Yeah, but it’s kinda all we got, and like Dipper said it might be the only way to snap him out of this. We just have to find the right thing… something the nightmare won’t twist,” Coraline trailed, wracking her brain and wishing she knew him better.

               “Neil, you’re his best friend—maybe you should try again,” Dipper suggested, Neil looked hesitant for a moment, but nodded. Brushing off forest debris, he stood and faced Norman again.

               “Um… hi,” he started again while the rest watched anxiously. “Still here for ya buddy. Um… what’s got you so worked up, anyway?” He looked back and Dipper gave him a thumbs up.

               “You seriously don’t know?” Norman replied sharply. “You left me! All of you did! You hate me behind my back and think I’m a freak. You only wanted to know me for your own reasons, and I was dumb enough to trust you! Just go… I always knew I was better off alone… this is exactly why…”

               There was a slap, and all at once the lightning fizzled out. Mabel seized the medium by his shirt and stared him in the eye with the most determined look Dipper had ever seen—and he prided himself on his will.

               “Norman, don’t you dare! Sure, maybe Neil wanted you to talk to his dog, and maybe Dipper wants to investigate your powers like the dork he is, but never think for a moment that’s all we want you for! You—” she poked him hard in the chest “are one of the coolest people I know because you don’t let junk get you down, not this easy! You’re not dumb, you’re not a freak, and sure as heck you’re not better off alone! You hear me man?! I don’t do fake friendships, got it?!” she cried, shaking him before pulling him into a crushing hug. The other watched in stunned silence; leave it to Mabel to slap an enraged medium and then give him a pep-talk to try bringing him to his senses.

               “Mabel… can’t br… can’t breathe!” he gasped, struggling weakly, and she finally let him go. He dropped to his knees, then flopped to his side, and everyone hurried to check on him. He seemed unconscious, but when Neil poked him he waved his friend off with a groan.

               “So… everything okay there junior?” Coraline asked, bending closer, and Norman rolled onto his back and slowly sat up.

               “Besides a cracked rib thanks to Mabel’s death hug… I think so,” he managed to smile, only to be caught in a two-for one embrace between the girl in question and his best friend. They let him go finally, then helped him to his feet.

               “So… do you know what happened?” Dipper asked tentatively.

               “Um… it’s kinda foggy,” Norman answered, but spoke too soon; in an instant he remembered the nightmare, the strange and dizzying mix of reality and hallucination, his words and those of his friends as they struggled to get through to him, the rush of supernatural power. Unprepared for the mental onslaught, he fell to his knees again and found he couldn’t fight the tears welling in his eyes. What had he done?

               “Dude! What’s wrong now?” Coraline exclaimed, and he quickly wiped his face with a sleeve.

               “Sorry, it’s just… I could have seriously hurt you guys! And I said… I said really horrible things. You should be mad at me, or afraid… I wouldn’t blame you if you were,” he explained, fiddling with his sleeves, eyes downcast.

               “No way,” Neil spoke, folding his arms. “I didn’t fight a bunch of zombies just to leave you because some monster hypnotized you. Besides, Aggie was like, a gazillion times worse, right? And you didn’t give up on her.”

               “Yeah man, scary medium powers or not we’re still cool,” Dipper added, but Norman seemed to deflate.

               “So… you do think I’m scary…”

               “Well…” Dipper trailed, caught between being honest and not hurting his friend any more than he already did. “To be honest… yeah. You were throwing out lightning everywhere, and we didn’t know what to do. It was pretty scary…”

               “But we couldn’t just leave you,” Coraline finished, and Dipper nodded.

               “We figured that would’ve been worse than staying,” Wybie said, rubbing the back of his neck, and Norman nodded softly.

               “Knowing what was going through my head… yeah. It would’ve been… a ton worse.” He curled up, trying not to think about it, and jumped when a hand rifled through his hair.

               “Scary or not, I have to admit you looked pretty badass,” Coraline said, smiling down at him. “Not everyone gets to say they have sweet ghost powers you know.”

               “Uh… that’s one way of looking at it,” Norman replied, looking up at his friends.

               “Besides, if you hang out with a knitting whiz, a mystery hunter, a Michigan water witch who destroyed a kid-eating demon, and not to brag but a mechanical genius—plus no less than two psychics and still think you’re a freak? There’s kiiinda something wrong there,” Wybie pointed out with a grin, and helped the medium to stand again.

               “Thanks guys… for not giving up on me.”

               “Hey, don’t worry about it. Us ‘Mystery Kids’ gotta stick together,” Coraline said.

               “Yep!” Mabel simply said, and her brother nodded before looking at the rest of the group.

               “Well, I don’t know about you guys but I for one have had enough adventure for today. Who’s up for heading back to the Shack and doing absolutely nothing else the rest of the day?”

               There was a unanimous vote of ‘aye’, and not wanting to linger in the demolished clearing any longer, they trudged back home, eager to leave their misfortunes behind. At this point, nothing sounded better than a lazy afternoon in front of the TV with some sodas and junk food. After all, who knew when their next adventure would strike? Anymore, they’d take the downtime they got, and after today… they’d need it.

balencia answered: Maybe the gang meeting Aggie?

Gah, sorry this took so long! But writing endings are the hardest thing for me, and even now I'm not sure this was the best...

Regardless, I hope you enjoy!

               “Hey guys… I found it! C’mere!” Coraline called, beaming as she waved her friends over and tossed the dowsing rod aside. She stood on the edge of a sinkhole, overlooking a crescent-shaped pool of crystalline water, its surface smooth as glass and the banks vanishing into the depths with no bottom in sight. Hopping about two feet down, she approached the water’s edge and peered in, noting the rock and sand lining the formation were pure white and devoid of algae; there weren’t any fish, frogs, or even insects inhabiting it either. Rustling behind her announced the arrival of the rest of the crew, and she grinned at them.

               “Crescent shaped pond in a perfectly round sinkhole, right? And you thought the dowser wouldn’t work,” she said proudly, poking Dipper in the chest.

               “I never said it wouldn’t work. I just didn’t think you actually knew how to use it,” he replied plainly, and she shrugged.

               “Same difference. What matters is we found it.”

               “So what does it do, exactly?” Lili said, kicking a pebble in and sending ripples sailing across the smooth surface. Dipper withdrew the journal from his vest and flipped a marked page open.

               “The Spirit Well. After much research, I have verified this unique landforms’ existence in the forests surrounding Gravity Falls. Apparently bottomless, these springs are rich in minerals and nutrients, yet they fail to sustain life like any normal body of water. Local legend maintains they are links to the underworld, but I have yet to observe any supernatural activity at this location. Maybe I need to visit during a full moon like everyone says.

               “That said, these formations are nevertheless intriguing. I have encountered three in this area alone, the largest being nearly ten feet in diameter, and the smallest a mere two—I nearly broke my ankle tripping over it. Perhaps there is something unique about the geology in the area that might explain the presence of these springs, but after everything else, I’m almost willing to believe they really are portals to some spirit world. Drinking not recommended. Or swimming.”

               “Creepy,” Lili pronounced when he’d finished. “Just what we’re looking for.”

               “Exactly. And unlike the author, we actually came here on a full moon. We ready to set up camp?” Dipper asked, looking to the group but most pointedly at Wybie, who’d carted their tent on his bike. It was a big, old-fashioned thing they’d found in the Mystery Shack attic and in surprisingly good shape; a little TLC from Mabel had patched the few holes that marked its olive brown canvas. With Raz and Neil’s help, Wybie unstrapped the cumbersome thing and they maneuvered it to suitable spot only a short distance from the pool. Mabel and Norman started unpacking the other things they’d brought on Norman’s bike—blankets to line the ground, lanterns, even a couple coloring books and snacks to pass the time. The first poles of the tent went up in minutes, and before long they had a welcome retreat from the bugs and a place to wait for nightfall.

               When the sun finally set, Lili lit a campfire and they roasted marshmallows, sitting at the edge of the sinkhole and keeping a close watch on the pond as they ate. But as time wore on and the flames burned lower and lower, drowsiness crept in. Coraline dozed on a very awkward Wybie’s shoulder, and Raz and Lili were either asleep or having an intense telepathic conference—it was hard to tell sometimes.

               Only Norman could be considered alert out of the group; for once he was grateful he was something of an insomniac and could keep watch even as his friends drifted off. The moon was right overhead now, and illuminated the pool with its pale beams as nocturnal insects buzzed softly in the cool night air. He watched a moth flutter lazily through the light, disappear into the shadows, then return the way it’d come pursued by a bat, the mammal’s leathery wings making a soft snapping sound as it pursued its dinner. Another, louder sound interrupted Norman’s thoughts—Neil was snoring, his chin on his chest. The medium chuckled softly; this wouldn’t be the first time he’d seen his friend fall asleep sitting up. He checked his phone, but the no service icon blinked at him, which meant he couldn’t even check what time it was. It had to be almost midnight by now.

               He was almost ready to drift off himself when movement caught his eye. Blinking, he watched as the beams of moonlight seemed to become fog, their edges wavering and blurring. A layer of the fog collected on the pool’s mirror surface, building until it seemed almost solid at the bottom. But something else was forming too. The top of the fog collected into a column, then a figure, its features slowly resolving themselves like adjusting the focus on a pair of binoculars until there was no doubt who it was.

               “A… Aggie?” Norman uttered, eyes wide. She clasped her hands, and nodded, a meek smile on her lips.

               “But… you moved on.”

               “Yes. And I never thanked you for what you did for me... for everyone,” she replied, bowing her head. Norman blinked; this had to be a dream. Ghosts didn’t come back once they crossed over, and she didn’t even look like a ghost anyway, at least not how he usually saw them. She wasn’t so much fog now as tenuous blue-white light, and a normal ghost was an eerie green. What was going on?

               “So… wh—what are you doing here?” he asked, and she looked around as if noticing her surroundings for the first time.

               “Like I said… I wanted to thank you. Everyone else who ever tried reading to me never did anything different. They never spoke to me like you did, never… understood. Thank you.”

               “I don’t know if they even realized what they were doing,” Norman sighed, meeting Aggie with a sad look. “I didn’t know you were just a girl at first either… maybe the others never knew.”

               She nodded softly, more in understanding than agreement, then looked around again. “Are these your friends?”

               “Yeah,” Norman replied, brightening. “I know I said there’s always someone out there… turns out sometimes there’s even more than that out there waiting for you.”

               “You must be happy,” Aggie said, bittersweet.

               “Well… yeah. Aren’t you?”

               “Yes. The afterlife isn’t quite what we all imagined, but it’s wonderful all the same,” she answered, smiling. “It’s just… one can’t help but wonder what life may have been like if it were a bit more like yours.”

               Norman frowned sadly and looked at his shoes. “I wish it had been better for you too, Aggie. No one should go through what you did.”

               “No… but it’s the past now,” she answered surprisingly cheerfully, “and… neither of us have to worry about it anymore.”

               “Yeah,” Norman agreed, smiling. He was glad everything really had turned out for the best for both of them. “So… what now?”

               “I… think I’d like to meet your friends, if that’s alright? I know they’re sleeping…”

               “Um… okay,” he replied, glancing around at the dozing group, not sure where to start. “H… Hey guys?”

               Dipper startled awake, then locked eyes with the wavering figure of Aggie and froze, dumbstruck. He managed to nudge his sister awake, and she groggily stirred, rubbing her eyes until she too saw the spirit hovering over the water. Norman gently shook his best friend awake, then reached around to nudge Coraline. Soon everyone was awake and in awe, and looking to Norman to guide them.

               “Um, so... obviously you can all see her…” Norman began, both nervous and thrilled at the same time, and his friends nodded. “So that’s new. Anyway, everyone, this is Aggie.”

                “You mean… the witch who cursed your town?” Wybie said, and Aggie and Norman gave him matching glares.

               “Let’s not use that word, shall we?” Dipper said, making a cutting motion with his hand.

“R-right.”

               “So… what are you doing here? I though spirits moved on once their earthly business was finished and all that,” Coraline asked, and Norman nodded, equally curious.

               “You see… I did still have business though. I wanted to thank Norman for helping me,” Aggie replied dutifully. “And… check up on him, I guess. It’s not easy being alone…”

               “I’m fine,” he said, smiling as he gestured to the others. “It’s not always easy, no… but it’s been pretty good so far.”

               Aggie smiled warmly as she looked around the group. She could tell—by how the other kids held themselves, the looks in their eyes, the openness of their faces—that there were a lot of shared camaraderie and similar histories that bound them all together, and would keep them together. Some small part of her longed to join them, but her time here was coming to an end, and she’d defied nature far too much already. As her vaporous form began to falter, she waved farewell to the others and gave Norman one last meaningful look before dissipating at last.

               Norman gazed at the spot where his long-lost relative had been, but his thoughts were soon interrupted by his friends who were abuzz with their encounter. Dipper was consulting with Raz and Lili about any psychic readings they might have picked up while Coraline stood by, listening in and nodding her head assuredly. Norman startled a bit when Neil patted his shoulder, but he was grateful for his friend’s moral support, and all three collapsed as Mabel tackled them in a giant hug. Heading back to the Shack this late at night would be pointless, so once Dipper had finished compiling his notes everyone piled into the tent and got comfortable. Their thoughts about the unassuming girl who’d ended up cursing her town and becoming a terrifyingly powerful supernatural entity, only to be brought her eternal peace by one of their own and how truly awesome that was would lull them to sleep.

After a very, very long time with no ideas, I finally thought of something to use the last prompt I had been given. Silverwingstorm gave me "GRAPPLING HOOK!", so, enjoy!

 ---

          Mabel giggled, bouncing on one of the giant mushrooms’ caps as her brother rolled his eyes and returned to consulting the Journal. He walked past Wybie, who was examining another through his customized welding mask and poking it with a stick, and Norman, who was helping Neil recover from an allergenic fit after he’d run to hug one of the enormous fungi’s stalks. Lili and Coraline were a little further away, playing out a very Alice-in-Wonderland-inspired tea party on top of one particularly wide cap. The glade they’d discovered certainly looked the whimsical part; aside from the huge fungi everywhere, there were wildflowers in spades, and the trees had an odd, ancient twisted look to them. Everything looked vibrant, alive—almost otherworldly.

            “Hey guys, check it out!” Raz called from deeper in the grove, and the others hurried over to where the psychic stood on one of the mushrooms. “Come on up, you can see it better from here.”

            With a little telekinesis, they followed suit, and saw what had him so intrigued—a small grassy clearing encircled by mushrooms. Dipper flipped through the book and laughed triumphantly, then held the page out for all to see.

            “This is exactly what the Journal described! We found it—the giant fairy ring!”

            “Fairy ring? How come I don’t see any of the little guys flying around? I’d expect there to be a whole bunch, like a bazillion,” Mabel frowned, and the others nodded.

            “Um, well, they are magical creatures. Not like they have to follow any rules or anything,” her brother offered, but she blew a raspberry at him.

            “Boo! Maybe we need to walk inside it. That works, right?”

            “The book explicitly states that’s a bad idea,” Dipper retorted, holding his sister back. “Actually, it says it’s dangerous.”

            “Since when could we not handle a little danger?” Coraline scoffed, ruffling Dipper’s hair. “Isn’t this exactly what we prepared for anyway?” She waved her trusty pruner under his nose to drive her point, and he sighed.

            “Yeah, yeah…. Alright. Count of three?”

            “That’s more like it,” she grinned. “Okay. One.”

            “Two,” Lili counted.

            “Three!” Raz finished, and together they leapt off the mushroom cap, their feet thudding on grassy earth.

            “Uh… guys?” Norman asked warily, looking at his surroundings fearfully, and the group tightened as they looked around.

            The grass beneath their feet looked the same, as did the mushrooms around them, but if the glade they’d been in was whimsical, this was downright bizarre. The trees were larger, dark limbs and bark tracing lopsided spirals, their jagged leaves an eerie shade of violet. The grass beyond the circle grew long and deepened into teal, the wildflowers unnaturally bright and almost ethereal. Delicate orbs of light blinked in and out of existence like fireflies; the sky was a deep plum flecked with stars and swirled with luminous green clouds. Even they—eyes, skin, clothing-- had taken on a more vibrant look; it was safe to say they were no longer in Gravity Falls. Or anywhere else on Earth.

            “Oh boy,” Dipper uttered, summing up everyone’s thoughts pretty well.

            “If I didn’t know better…” Raz began, glancing at his girlfriend.

            “I’d say we were in a mental world,” she finished, taking his hand.

            “But we know that’s impossible,” Coraline added, scanning the strange forest and clutching the pruner. “Okay mister Librarian, what’s in here? How do we get out?”

            “Uh… it really doesn’t say,” Dipper groaned, snapping the book shut and tucking it back into his vest dejectedly. “Hey, maybe we can find some fairies now, and ask them.”

            “S-sure… ‘cause that always works in the movies,” Wybie griped, withdrawing his tongs from his coat and clicking them.

            “Psh, you guys! We haven’t even been here five minutes and you’re acting like everything’s out to kill us! That one fairy me and Dipper saw seemed awesome! Then Soos smashed her… but whatevs! We can totally find more and become bfffs—best fairy friends forever!” Mabel cheerily piped up, then began walking to the edge of the circle.

            “Wait, Mabel!” Dipper cried, hurrying to catch up and grabbing her by the shoulder. “We seriously don’t know what’s out there! The Journal said it was dangerous, remember?!”

            “The Journal says a lot of stuff’s dangerous!” Mabel retorted. “Besides, as long as we all stick together we should be good, right? So let’s go already!”

            “Mabel’s got a point. We can do a little exploring, and I bet we just have to jump into the circle again to get back,” Lili reasoned, and the others nodded.

            “Okay, but not too long. This place gives me the creeps,” Dipper conceded, folding his arms and falling in with the rest of the group as they walked by, following Mabel’s lead.

            A silvery moon slowly rose overhead, its pale light pouring through the canopy, glistening off crystalline dew caught in spiders’ webs and dappling the teal grass. A light breeze would occasionally kick up, and musical birdsong, like nothing they’d ever heard, would sometimes break the still as well. No one else heard it, but Norman and Coraline exchanged looks when tiny peals of laughter echoed through the flowers, as if something was playing with them. It all seemed too much like a dream.

            “Ugh,” Mabel finally grunted when they reached a small clearing, plopping down on the soft turf. “This is totally a fairy’s natural habitat, so how come we haven’t seen any?”

            “Maybe this is their day off,” Raz wondered, and Lili shook her head.

            “Maybe you’re a big dork,” she teased, then turned to examine their surroundings. “Maybe… they need an offering. We brought snacks, right?”

            “Uh-huh,” Norman replied, slinging his backpack down.

            “What kind of food do you think fairies like, anyway?” Neil wondered, and his friend shrugged.

            “Who knows? Not like zombies, who definitely only eat one thing.”

            “Any self-respecting fairy eats a steady diet of sugar, duh” Mabel stated, quite sure of herself, and Norman quickly stepped aside as she dug into his bag to pull out a huge package of gummy koalas. She tore it open and pulled a heaping handful out and held it over her head. “Hey fairies! We brought you some delicious treats! We just wanna hang out and play with you guys a bit, doesn’t that sound like fun?”

            “Yeah! C’mon out!” Coraline joined in, grabbing her own fistful of gummies and holding it up eagerly, and everyone else followed suit until Norman was left holding the empty bag. He shrugged, perfectly fine watching the others anyway. They looked pretty silly, calling after fairies and waving handfuls of candy around. Then, under their voices, he heard tinkling laughter and what seemed like a singsong-y murmuring. And then a high-pitched squeal drowned it all out.

            Mabel was stiff as a rod, frozen with glee as tiny glimmering humanoid no taller than a hand flit around her on glowing orange butterfly wings. It landed gracefully on her finger and took one of the proffered gummies, seemed to examine it warily, then took a bite, squeaking happily at the flavor. Suddenly the air was full of the things as they emerged from the brush and trees, all eager to try what these humans had brought them, and soon everyone was laughing and playing with them. The fae especially enjoyed messing with Norman’s hair once they discovered its unique properties, and everyone received flower crowns whether they wanted one or not.

            Then all at once, the fairies fled. Some sought shelter in Wybie’s coat, but he was too ticklish for them and didn’t stay. The kids exchanged looks, and slowly drew together as the forest began to seem threatening again. A twig snapped somewhere beyond a massive trunk, and Coraline brandished her pruner.

            “Who goes there?!”

            “Why Coraline…”

            The blue-haired girl froze, eyes wide.

            “Is that any way to greet your dear… old… mother?”

            A spindly form emerged from the trees, all metal and ragged black dress. Silken black hair framed the cracked porcelain face that had haunted far too many dreams, the jagged smile that leered at them all wolfishly. Needles clicked as she clasped her hands—no, she was still missing her right one, just like she was still missing her eyes—clasped the stump in her left in what might have been an endearing gesture.

            “Don’t you remember me? We had such good times together,” the Other Mother cooed in all her awful glory, smiling because she knew. Of course Coraline remembered. She remembered so well, the pruner had dropped from her quivering hands.

            “Jonesy…” Wybie whimpered, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her back. “What’s sh-she doing here?”

            “Coraline dear, I thought you didn’t like little motormouth,” the Other Mother sneered, folding her arms reproachfully. “Oh, I’m sorry—cat got your tongue?”

            “Shut up! I killed you!” Coraline snapped, forcing Wybie to hold her back. “Leave me the hell alone!”

            “Silly, silly girl… you see, after everything you did to me, I was forced to go home…”

            “Th-this place is your home?” Dipper asked nervously, and the Other Mother tilted her head.

            “Hm… you’re new, aren’t you? I’m glad Coraline’s made so many new friends… though I’m sure I could make her better ones.”

            “No, you couldn’t,” Coraline fumed, but the spidery monster ignored her.

            “Yes, this is home sweet home, I suppose. But I was always a free spirit, wanted my own little place, a family…”

            “A meal,” Coraline growled, and this time the Other Mother snapped her head around.

            “You watch your tone, young lady.”

            “You’re not my mother! You’re not anyone’s mother! Raz, Lili, shoot ‘er! Someone!” Coraline shouted, grabbing the pruner off the ground and whipping it at the monster but missing terribly. She retreated into the heart of the group with angry tears in her eyes while Mabel offered a consoling hug and the psychics leapt to the forefront.

            “How rude,” the Other Mother snarled, and before the two could react she lashed them both across the face.

            “Lili!” Raz cried, ignoring his own wounds, but the tough girl brushed him off.

            “Oh, you wanna go?!” she shouted, and the monster seemed taken aback. “I’ll show you to mess with a Psychonaut!”

            The air around the Other Mother wavered, and she looked around in confusion before her dress spontaneously combusted. Shrieking, she scrambled to put it out, swatting at it with all six limbs while Lili smirked.

            “Let’s get out of here,” Dipper suggested, and the others nodded. They fled the clearing at full speed, heading back the way they’d come and hoping Lili’s efforts had been enough to keep the Other Mother at bay… at least enough to give them a good lead.

 ---

            “I told you it was a left at that tree back there,” Raz panted as the group ground to a halt in front of a huge cluster of luminous crystals, and Dipper pounded a fist to the side of his head.

            “Augh, I knew it! Do you think we can backtrack? Do we have time?”

            There was the sound of a crash nearby, and they collectively flinched.

            “I’m gonna say no,” Wybie put, and they all scanned the forest frantically.

            “I never knew fairies could be bad,” Mabel bemoaned quietly, and her brother patted her shoulder.

            “I never would have thought she counted as a fairy,” Coraline sighed, then squared her shoulders. “Okay, I beat her before, I… we can beat her again, and this time she doesn’t have my parents or the way out to use as a bargaining chip.”

            “So this might be her home, but we have the advantage, right?” Raz asked, and she nodded.

            “Yup. She loves games, so here’s what I’m thinking…” she started, laying out her plan. The others drew close and listened carefully; it wouldn’t be complicated, but nothing could be when a monster was closing in on you with every second. When she finished, they scattered—not too widely just in case something went wrong, but far enough apart they wouldn’t give each other’s locations away. Crouching in bushes, crevices in the crystals, and winding roots, they hid silently and listened as the snickering sound of metal on metal approached, clicking against the ground before stopping just in front of a crystalline pillar.

            “Hmm, now where could they all have gone?” the Other Mother wondered aloud in a mocking tone, tapping a finger to her chin. “Hide and seek, Coraline? Not very original. Let’s see…”

            Coraline held her breath, listening to the monster feel her way around the crystal columns, much too close to where she’d hidden. The best she could do was curl tighter in the little space she’d found in the crystals and cover her ears to drown out that dreadful sighing, clicking sound until finally, it left to search elsewhere. But she didn’t dare move or even breathe a sigh of relief; the Other Mother was blind, not deaf.

            Lili watched the wicked fae creep by with a souring look on her face from her spot in some bushes, and wondered if she could set her on fire again. With the others nearby though, there was a risk of the Other Mother stumbling into them in her efforts to put the fire out, doing more harm than good, so she nixed that idea. What else could she do then? There were all these plants around…

            The Other Mother felt something ensnare her legs just as she made to take a step and toppled forward, landing hard. Rolling awkwardly, she sliced at the tiny vines that were now retreating back to the undergrowth, a growl rising in her throat as her strikes only met dirt. Lili silently congratulated the vines on a job well done, and with the Other Mother vulnerable, she picked her up and flung her into a nearby crystal spire, stunning the spindly fae for a moment. This gave them a chance to break for it, heading for the tree Dipper had taken a wrong turn at.

            It was a huge relief when they could see the clearing with the fairy ring peeking through the trees ahead. The sight spurred them on to go just that bit faster, but a terrible rush through the branches above and the dark jagged form that dropped in their path interrupted their progress. Raz barely managed to throw up a shield as the Other Mother reared and brought her forelegs down on him. Neil made to tackle her, but Lili grabbed him mid-leap before he could be sliced to ribbons and set him down, giving him a questioning look. He made to reply, then tackled her instead as the Other Mother struck at them again, and Raz punched her away so the two could get back on their feet.

            “Brats! More trouble than you’re worth!” the beldam rasped as she swiped haphazardly at the scattered group, and managed to catch Wybie by his coat. Digging into the thick fabric, she lifted him up and laughed, an ugly dry sound. He struggled valiantly, even prodding her in the face with his tongs, but she knocked them away with her other arm. “Found you… now for the rest.”

            “Wybie, shields up!” Mabel suddenly cried, and Dipper looked over to see the grappling hook in her hands and aimed at the Other Mother’s head. Wybie saw too, and flipped his welding mask down, while the fae looked around, listening in confusion.

"GRAPPLING HOOK!"

            The pop of pressurized air gave Mabel’s location away, but the beldam could never have pinpointed the hook’s trajectory as it shot by, clanged off Wybie’s mask, and draped over the Other Mother’s shoulder before Mabel set it to retract. The tines hooked around her face and neck, and she screeched at the steel met her pale skin. Dropping Wybie, she clawed at the hook desperately, and Dipper leapt in to help his sister hold on as the line bucked and snapped. They were quickly joined by the others, and with a little psychic power, the group managed to begin dragging the monster back, all the while enduring her insults and ear-splitting screams as the metal tines chafed her skin. Slowly they pulled her until she was back-to-back with a tree, then Raz and Lili exchanged looks and waved the others off. Exerting their best control, the two wrapped the cord around the tree until the Other Mother could barely move and tied it securely. Despite the shrieks in the background, they all high-fived one another, and Coraline got squeezed in a big group hug.

            “Okay, okay dorks, let’s get outta here. I’ve had enough of this place, and Needles needs to think about what she’s done,” she said with a truly grateful smile, jabbing a finger back at her nemesis, and the others nodded eagerly. They trudged back to the fairy ring, clambered onto one of the caps, and counted to three again before jumping off. At first, it seemed like it hadn’t worked—it was dark, and the clearing was lit by moonlight. But everything was duller, and the little flickering lights that danced around them were actual fireflies.

            “We made it!” Mabel cheered, then frowned. “But I lost my grappling hook…”

            “Hey, I lost my pruners, and Wybie lost his tongs. At least your thing actually beat her,” Coraline offered, patting the other girl’s shoulder, and she responded with a grin.

            “Hey, that’s right! Mabel saves the day!”

            “With a little help,” Raz pointed out, and she lightly patted his helmet.

            “You tell yourself that,” she teased, and they all laughed.

            “I bet Stan has another grappling hook laying around somewhere. I’m not sure why he even had that one in the first place though…” Dipper said, rubbing his chin, and his sister shrugged.

            “Eh, whatever. It was nice while it lasted. Who knows, maybe I’ll get some other super cool thingy to replace it!”

            “O-or… I could always build you one,” Wybie offered, and Mabel’s eyes widened.

            “You would do that for me?”

            “Um, well, sure… not like you didn’t save my life back there or anything.”

            Mabel squealed and wrapped him in a hug, which he endured awkwardly but not ungratefully. The group of friends were happy to leave the clearing behind, both minds and bodies exhausted from the fight. They walked quietly, leaving each other to their thoughts—well, except for maybe Raz and Lili, who seemed to chat telepathically as much as they did aloud. Coraline hung toward the back of the group, arms folded around herself. She sighed softly, mind buzzing; she’d never wanted to see that hideous face, hear that awful voice again, and knew there was a good chance she’d have nightmares tonight if she managed to sleep at all.

            “Hey,” Raz spoke up, suddenly beside her, and she blinked in surprise.

            “What?”

            “Uh, I couldn’t help but overhear…” he trailed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, Lili and I can give you some tips to help with nightmares. I’d offer to actually sort them out for you, but that’s technically not allowed and I’d get in big trouble for it.”

            “Nah, I understand, Mr. G-man. But… thanks. I might just take you up on the tips,” Coraline said softly, smiling. Raz returned the smile, then trotted off to catch up with his girlfriend as the lights of the Mystery Shack finally poked through the dense woods. Coraline looked over her group of friends and smiled gratefully; somehow facing the beldam again hadn’t been nearly as bad with them by her side.

I think it's about time I posted something new. A while ago one of my friends requested the group finding out about Raz's curse; I'm not sure it's the best but I might as well post it. :3

I also got a request for another short fic; don't worry, I haven't forgotten! I just haven't come up with anything yet. In the meantime, enjoy this!

--

               It was hot. Sticky, swelteringly, surface-of-the-sun hot. Okay, maybe she was exaggerating a bit, but Mabel was not about to understate how much she’d give for a cool breeze and about a gallon of ice cream. Maybe a whole bathtub, actually. Or even better…

               “The pool!” she shouted, startling everyone in the room. They were sprawled all over the living room wearing as little clothing as they could get away with in the oppressive heat of the Mystery Shack, and had done basically nothing all day. The popsicles had run out long ago, and now they’d had nothing else to relieve the heat ever since the air conditioning had gone out, so the promise of cool water and fun put some energy back into the group.

               “At this point even the lake would do, and it’d be less crowded,” Dipper reasoned, sitting up, and the others nodded. “That okay with everyone? We might even find some cool stuff while we’re down there.”

               “I’ve never gone lake swimming before… there’s not like… weird sucker fish that’ll eat my toes, right?” Neil asked, looking deeply concerned, and Coraline chuckled.

               “Nah, only that Gobblewonker Dipper told us about,” she teased, ruffling his curly orange hair. “C’mon losers, let’s go cool off.”

               For the first time all day the room burst with a flurry of activity as they gathered the stuff they wanted or needed to go to the beach. The twins packed towels into a bag and strapped it to Wybie’s bike while he found a couple of shovels to hopefully dig up treasures or construct amazing sand castles with. Neil, Norman, and Coraline put a bag of snacks together, but there were two who weren’t engaged in the hustle.

               Lili looked over to her boyfriend, waiting to see what he’d do. She’d keep him company either way, but there was no denying the discomfort in his eyes. Where the others saw a fun way to chase the heat off, she knew he saw danger. But after a moment of consideration he stood, stretched, and together they went to where everyone was gathered on the porch.

               “Okay, ready?” Dipper announced once they had everything organized. Everyone was balanced on three bikes, or in the case of the psychics had their own mode of transport. Though it was a delicate affair most everyone in charge of the bikes were accomplished drivers—Dipper wasn’t so sure about his sister but they’d manage somehow. Not wanting to bear the heat any longer, they set off.

               The lake was almost definitely less crowded than the pool on this cloudless day, but there were still plenty of locals out fishing, canoeing, and generally taking advantage of their natural resources to cool off for the afternoon. The group pedaled as close as they could and leaned the bikes against a rail, then headed down, finding a spot a little way from the main beach and setting up camp. Coraline was first to run and dive in with a hoot, laughing at the icy water as she resurfaced. Mabel followed her, somehow doing a cannonball despite no obvious ledge to jump from, and the rest were a little more cautious about their entry into the water. Neil yelped as he stepped on a chunk of algae, jumping to cling to Norman and sending them both splashing down. Dipper started up a game of Marco Polo, and for a while they didn’t realize two of their own weren’t in on the fun. Raz and Lili were content to watch their friends play while they sat under a tree, but they knew they’d be noticed soon enough.

               “Hey, what’re you guys doing over there? Come play with us!” Neil shouted, waving them over, and the others spoke up in agreement.

               “Raz can’t swim, remember?” Lili answered, and he nodded, sorry to see Neil’s face fall.

               “You could still come sit in the water where it’s not deep,” Wybie suggested as he waded around a sunken log looking for snails.

               “I… guess so,” Raz shrugged, passing Lili a look, and together they stood and headed to the water’s edge. “Still, I can’t really play any games with you guys.”

               “Oh! I bet those giant psychic hands of yours are great for splash wars!” Mabel said, almost hopping out of the water, and Lili chuckled.

               “You should see it at Whispering Rock sometimes. It practically rains there’s so much water flying,” she explained with a laugh, wading in. “Or telekinetic skipping stone contests. Not to brag, but I’m the champion.”

               “Ooh, ooh! Let’s see,” Neil, said, and cast around for a good skipping stone, but Wybie already had it covered.

               “I was gonna throw it myself, but seems like you should have the honor,” he smiled, handing the stone over, and Lili took it. She studied it briefly, then lifted it in an invisible grasp. The stone shot out like it’d been fired from a gun, and they stared in awe as it sailed over the lake surface, bouncing once, twice, five, nine, thirteen times before they lost sight of it altogether.

               “Skipping. Stone. Champion,” Lili stated again, smirking, and her friends stood agape before Dipper started a slow clap, in awe. The others joined in, and Lili bowed before they all burst into laughter.

               “There is no way I would’ve beaten that,” Wybie conceded. “My record’s maybe seven. I’m glad that stone was put in the hands of a master.”

               “Please, you should see it when Milla joins in. I’m the champion among the campers, but she’s the queen.”

               “I think we’ll have to take your word on that for now,” Dipper said with a shrug, then flinched as his sister launched a splash blitzkrieg against him. He was happy to return the favor, and soon it’d descended into chaos with everyone for themselves. It was decided that if a wave went entirely over your head you were out, and no cheating with psychic shields either. Because of this rule, it was discovered that Norman’s hair obeyed gravity once it was wet, and it was long enough Mabel tried to convince him to let her braid it as a consolation prize, which he politely refused. Eventually it was down to Lili and Neil, who launched their attacks at the same time and created an awesome wave in the middle that ended up splashing them both. Calling it a tie, they agreed to take a break and just relax for a while. Wybie began shoveling sand into a heap, prompting Mabel and Neil to commandeer it for sandcastle purposes, and they eventually managed to recruit Raz, who honestly didn’t mind.

               Eventually they decided to wander down the shore and found a spot where the water was deep and a rock exposure was perfect for diving off of. Coraline tried it first, simply leaping off before she felt brave enough to try a flip the next time around. Mabel attempted to copy her but landed on her back with a loud slap, and everyone laughed, even her despite the red welling up in her shoulders. Norman wasn’t brave enough to try anything; knowing his luck he’d trip at the last moment and fall in head first. And so he sat with Raz on a log on the bank below, watching the others have fun trying to pull fancy dives from the ledge.

               “You’d probably beat everyone at this if you swam,” he said to the psychic, who nodded.

               “Yeah, probably. I’m okay with not dying though.”

               “Um… yeah…” Norman said, laughing a bit. “We’d help you though. Coraline’s a good swimmer, and Lili… well, she could grab you with telekinesis.”

               “I guess so. I just… don’t wanna put anyone through that,” Raz replied, digging his foot into the silty bank. “I fell into the lake at camp once. Never again.”

               Norman looked at his friend somberly, noticing his usual flair was gone. He knew better than most that there was nothing wrong with being afraid of something, but it was still kind of odd to see Raz without his typical fire. But then he seemed to light up again.

               “Norman, you know all about curses.”

               “Well,” he laughed nervously, “I wouldn’t say that.”

               “But you’ve dealt with one. I’m… so am I.”

               “What?” Norman said softly, blinking in surprise.

               “Yeah. I don’t usually talk about it, especially after Sasha sort of yelled at me about it. He said it was a security risk or something… That if any of my enemies—not that I really have any yet—learned about it they could use it against me.”

               Norman didn’t know what to say, but gave him a sympathetic look. Raz seemed to take this as a cue to go on, not that he minded much.

               “A rival psychic family cursed my whole family to die in water. We can go in shallow water okay, and thank god we can take baths, but anything over our heads and we’re goners. It’s not really a problem, but it still sucks. You know… maybe between all of us here we’ll break it one day,” he mused with a smirk, watching as Coraline performed an impressive flip into the water.

               “I think everyone would be happy to help,” Norman said, shooing away a mosquito, then glanced up at the murmured conversation going on a few yards away. “Uh oh.”

               “You guys, you should come over here!” Neil called, waving them over, and the others joined in beckoning them over.

               “I told you, it’s not a good idea,” Lili could be heard over them, and Raz got a bad feeling—not about his girlfriend sticking up for him, but what his friends probably wanted him to do. He gave Norman a look, and they got up to see just what was up.

               “We’ve all pretty much done everything we can think of,” Dipper explained on behalf of the group, “so we thought it’d be cool to see you pull some real acrobatics.”

               Raz sighed. “Look, I can do that stuff anytime. Does it have to be into water?”

               “Yeah, and I told you he can’t swim,” Lili insisted, standing at her partner’s side with arms folded.

               “Me and Mabel will be there for ya,” Coraline replied, “so it’s no big deal. You’ll be fine.”

               “Guys…” Norman spoke, and blinked when everyone instantly looked to him. He was still getting used to people listening to him—even this group of friends hadn’t always been so attentive, but they’d learned. He swallowed nervously, some ancient part of his brain telling him to stop, shut up, don’t get noticed, but he pushed past it and spoke.

               “Raz… really can’t swim.”

               “But we just said—” Dipper started, but his sister clapped a hand over his mouth knowing Norman had more to say. The medium looked at Raz, who seemed to catch what he was going to do, and gave him a slight nod. Lili’s eyes widened, but she said nothing, so Norman continued.

               “He can’t go into water… deep water… at all. Remember how my town was cursed?” he said, and they all nodded. “Well… so’s Raz.”

               Confusion passed through the others, but Mabel broke the silence.

               “Wait, Raz becomes a zombie if he goes in water?”

               “What? No!” Raz spluttered. “A zombie? Really?”

               “Norman said you were cursed like his town, so I thought that meant—”

               “No, I just meant that he’s cursed, not with… zombification,” Norman explained, pulling a face.

               “So… he’s cursed with… not being able to swim? Or what?” Wybie asked, and he sighed. This wasn’t going as well as he’d hoped.

               “I go in water, I drown,” Raz put simply, an edge to his voice, “and I am not going to demonstrate it. That’s why I didn’t even want to go today.” The others looked crestfallen, and Raz regretted being so harsh. But it was the truth, and he didn’t regret that.

               “So just… leave him alone about it, okay?” Norman said, fixing his friends with a sincere gaze. They all looked varying shades of ashamed, and suddenly diving wasn’t so appealing.

               “I was getting bored anyway,” Dipper finally said in an attempt to move on, only for Coraline to slap the back of his head.

               “You dolt, this isn’t about you! I’ll admit, I wanted to see Raz and his awesome skills, but he’s right, he can do that any time. We were basically asking him to die, and you’re just gonna walk away?”

               “Coraline, it’s okay, I’m—” Raz tried to speak up, but got ignored.

               “No! If it means we never go to the pool or lake again, I’m okay with it, because that means one of my best friends isn’t in mortal peril!”

               “I don’t know that that’s necessa—”

               “So it’s basically like my severe shellfish allergy where my tongue swells up all weird?” Neil piped up, and they all turned to look at him.

               “Uh… in a way? I guess?” Raz replied, scratching his head.

               “Raz, we’re super sorry, and we’ll never make you go into water when you don’t want to ever again,” Mabel apologized, and the others nodded solemnly.

               “Thanks for understanding guys. I guess you know how to destroy me now,” he joked, happy to see his friends break out in smiles again. “Of course, I can always just delete that information from your brains.”

               “But then we wouldn’t know about this whole ‘water bad’ thing and just go through it all again,” Wybie remarked, “Or, yanno, find out about it… too late.”

               “Uh, morbid… but true,” Raz conceded. “No offense, but I’d like to be able to talk to all of you guys, not just Norman.”

               “You… you really think you’d stay on?”

               “Well, it’s ‘suddenly or in a bad way’, right?”

               “O-kaaay, let’s bring it out of creepy town and back into fun town, shall we?” Mabel interrupted, making a pushing motion with her arms. “Who wants to help me build the most epic sandcastle this beach has ever seen?”

               No one objected, and with renewed enthusiasm they ran back down the shore to where they’d played earlier. Between Raz and Wybie and two shovels, they managed to create a pile of sand as tall as Dipper. Using their hands and a variety of sticks, they shaped it into a sizeable fortress with three towers spaced along thick parapets. Mabel and Neil found armfuls of small smooth pebbles and brought them over, and worked with the psychics to decorate the castle’s walls with them. Wybie disappeared into the forest, only to come back moments later with thin, dry branches he then broke into even lengths and stuck into the towers’ peaks, but he turned down Mabel’s suggestion of flags. Lili knew what he was getting at, and set each of the little twigs on fire. Now that it was getting dark, it looked great, and even Mabel admitted that while it had nothing on glitter or bedazzles, it was better than simple leaf flags. With the sun finally dipping behind the mountains and the air starting to cool off, they agreed it was time to wash up and head home.

Hii hope you are having a nice nice day! I saw this post of yours and fell soo in love https://www.tumblr.com/apparentlytheproblem/739333103408037888/e-n-e-m-i-e-s-t-o-l-o-v-e-r-s-t-r-o-p-e-p-r-o?source=share can you possibly please try something similar for exs to lovers? Thank you!

second chance trope - promptlist

I'm so sorry it took this long but here you are, these are prompt lists which im so excited to do and share in the future and i hope my list only grows :)

-ˏˋ. dialogue ˊˎ-

"After all this time, i still love you."

"And if my wishes came true, it would've been you."

"Don't give me a reason to leave."

"History repeats itself only because we didn't listen the first time."

"If I could have anyone in the world, it would still be you."

"I just wanna be yours"

"I like you now, just the way you are."

"I Love You, and it's because I love you, that I can't help but be a little bit selfish." 

"I missed you. i really miss you and i need you back to me, back with me."

"I will never willingly leave you."

"I will save you." "You let me drown last time"

“I wanna make you mine so bad.” “then do it..”

"Love me. chose me. for once in your damned life, fight for me!"

"Loving you is ruining my life."

"Love is a choice. All i want is you to make the right one."

"Tulips, they're still your favourite right?"

“What the hell are you doing.”

"You are my mistake to make."

"You knew that i didn't have a choice."

“You've fallen in love with me once, you can again. Please."

prompt fic

| 53. “I love you and I am terrified.” (Charles/Leonidas(OC))

Leonidas stands in front of Charles in the Swamp with a few tears in his eyes. He had just heard that Charles never really cared for him from a nurse in Post-Op when he was helping Hawkeye with his rounds. He was confronting Charles about it, who's acting like he has no idea what Leonidas is talking about. Charles stands from his desk, putting a hand out to placate his lover. "Leonidas-"

"Why are you acting like you don't know anything!?" Leonidas asks, clearly a little angry. "The nurse told me that you told her everything I heard right to her face! She said she heard it from you, I don't think she has any reason to lie to me!"

"Leonidas, dear.." Charles says, clearly trying to calm Leonidas down. "I really do not know what you are talking about, my dear.."

"The nurse told me that you never really loved me. Was all of this just an act? Taking pity on the immigrant boy!?" Leonidas asks, tears falling down his face. "Was she right, did you never really love me?" He chuckles, bringing a hand up to wipe his eye. "I don't know why I thought it would be any different, you're a Winchester, of course you wouldn't-"

"I love you!" Charles says suddenly, surging forward and taking Leonidas's hand. "I do love you.." He repeats, looking at Leonidas with a soft look in his eyes. "But.. I am terrified." Leonidas pauses, looking at him with a confused look in his eye

"Terrified..?" Leonidas asks. "Why would you be terrified, I love you, Charles.. I'm not pulling the wool over your eyes on this." He says, stepping closer. "I have never lied to you and I won't ever start."

"You know I have an image to uphold back in Boston, I.. was just terrified that somehow news of you and me.. of us would make it back to Boston and my parents would figure it out." Charles explains. "I do love you, Leonidas, I do.. You know how my parents are, how my father is with people like you.. people like us."

Leonidas comes closer and cups Charles's cheek in his hand, his other hand still linked with Charles's. "I know how your father is.. And I honestly couldn't care less. I have you and you have me.. that's all we really need in this life. You don't have to be terrified, Charles, because you have me.." He says, smiling softly.

Charles looks down at Leonidas, just staring down at his lover. He eventually starts to smile, rubbing his thumb on Leonidas's hand. "I do have you, my dear.. And I am glad to have you in my life." He admits. Leonidas smiles as he hears Charles's words, he knows that he's the only one who can make Charles soft like this.

"Now come on. Let's get to bed. I'm exhausted after Post-Op duty and I know you've got first shift in the morning after BJ." Leonidas says, remembering the schedule that says Charles had to take over from BJ at seven in the morning. The two change and Leonidas convinces Charles to stay in his bed for the night. They fall asleep with each other in their arms, happy in their piece of Korea that's all theirs.