#dipper smells like baby wipes

[hubert-duck]

A Little Dipper sketch dump!

#gravity falls dipper pines #ten years of gravity falls #gravity falls tenth anniversary #gravity falls dipper #gravity falls fanart #sweet emotionally abused dipper #dipper smells like baby wipes #gf dipper #dipper pines #my art #digital art #art #mystery twins #tv shows #comfort show #comfort character

[bers1990]

Dipper Pines and Pacifica Northwest after the Gym

Well, once again, what we have here is an incredibly random picture that I had an odd desire to make for some strange reason.

Only this time around, it is a “Gravity Falls” related picture featuring both Dipper Pines and Pacifica Northwest, after the two of them finally get back from yet another lengthy period at the local gym.

And, as it is quite easy for anyone to see, they are both most assuredly starting to get some results.

So, do you still think that Dipper is weak and ‘smells like baby wipes’, Grunkle Stan and Lil’ Gideon? Because it certainly looks like he has muscles now. Well, how about you, Robbie, do you still think that you can beat Dipper up?

Disclaimer-

The character heads, their skin coloring and the basic background are all the property of Disney

While the body templates all taken from certain screencaps from the TV show “Johnny Bravo”, which is the property of Cartoon Network

Nothing is the property of me

#gravity falls #dipper pines #pacifica northwest #fan edit #dipcifica

[introvert-no-chameleon]

The Most Important Date in History

@howthemabelshaveturned  Surprise! I’m your secret Santa! This was the request:Maybe something with baby Mabel and Dipper and their experiences pre-Gravity Falls? So enjoy some cute babies and some Stan twins time shenanigans!

The halls of the hospital smelled of bleach and stale coffee. The hospital was similar to any other human hospital; hideous overhead lights, water stains on the roof. A lonely bucket collected the water from a leak somewhere above the hallway. 

Yet, it wasn’t the atmosphere or the place itself that caused Stanford Pines to shift his feet nervously. He had a lump in his throat that just wouldn’t go down no matter how much he tried to swallow. He wiped his sweaty palms against the sides of his pants, then turned to his twin. “Stan, are you sure about this?”

Stan peeked over his shoulder. It was quiet, save from a few beeping machines and the occasional footsteps of the janitor and the rolling of her cart. The wheels squeaked as she turned the corner and disappeared. “Eh, about 50% sure.”

“Stanley.”

“Look, do ya wanna see the little gremlins or not? ‘Cause that time machine thingy won’t last forever.”

Ford paused. He glanced at the time machine in his palm. To the common eye, it looked just like a tape measure, aside from the hourglass symbol on its side. “…Are you sure nobody will be around?”

“Positive,” Stan tapped the side of his head. “Hard not to remember,even with all the brain zapping. Sherme’s wife is with the kid’s parents, and Shermie dragged me to the food court for like two hours to “catch up” on things. So the only thing we’ll deal with is the nurses, and I remember for a fact that the only nurse awake right now is taking a nap at the counter.``

Ford lifted an eyebrow. “Why in the multiverse do you remember all of this?”

Stan scratched his chin. “Er, I may have tried to make a break for it after holding the kids…”

“What?”

“Hey, pipe down, yer gonna wake somebody up.”

“You tried kidnapping our great-niece and nephew!” hissed Ford.

“I wasn’t, I was just gonna take them out for a ride, ya know,maybe get them some icecream…”

“...After they were just born?” 

“Look, I may have not thought it all through, okay?”

Stanford felt his temples throb. He rubbed them. “I cannot believe…we’ll discuss this later. Just show me where they are, knucklehead.”

“Ya know, if ya weren’t so busy complaining, you’d notice we’re already here.”

Stanley gestured ahead. 

Sure enough, when Stanford turned the corner, he saw the glass walls of the nursery.  

It wasn’t hard to spot the two tiny forms that were his niece and nephew. 

Dipper’s birthmark peeked under his hat. Mabel was in the bed next to him, her cheeks deep and rosy. The both were such tiny little creatures, all pink with shut eyes in their bundles. 

His breath was taken away. In all his years in the multiverse, he’d had a few experiences with the miracle of life. He’d even helped a mother from dimension X21 hatch her eggs and watch the tiny purple offspring crawl out of their eggshells. 

But there was something so different about meeting his great niece and nephew mere hours after they came into the world. Knowing that they would grow up to be the brave, wonderful members of his family, knowing they would do such great things in the future, knowing that they would be so, very loved.

His eyelids were hot and wet before he knew it. “They’re amazing,” he whispered. 

Stan’s grin was so wide it reached his ears. “I knew ya’d think so. But hold on, we ain’t done yet.”

“What do you mean?”

Stan raised an eyebrow. “Dontcha wanna hold them?”

Ford stuttered. “Stanley, we can’t, somebody will see!”

“They’ll just think you’re me. It’s not like there’s any other explanation.”

“…Are you certain you don’t remember this causing an issue?”

Stan clasped his brother’s shoulder. “Positive! Anyway, realistically, if anything happens we just go back to our time. Nothing to worry about.”

-

“…and that, kids, is how your grandfather mistook me for Stan attempting to kidnap you,” said Stanford. 

In the Shack living room, surrounded by the tacky wallpaper and the remains of Stanford’s anomaly research, Dipper and Mabel burst into laughter. 

Stan shrugged, his expression offensively nonchalant for some one who got him chased all over a hospital. “Yeah, so I misremembered a detail or two.”

“Man, I would’ve loved to see that,” said Dipper. 

“It’s good to know we were always surrounded by adventure, even as babies,” added Mabel. She pet Waddles, who at the moment was napping peacefully at her side. 

Ford chuckled. “Yes, well. I would have preferred it to be less of a hectic first meeting. I doubt I made the best first impression.”

His twin rolled his eyes. “What happened to “they’re babies, they have no object permanence”? 

Stanford huffed. “It’s about the principle of the thing.”

Mabel giggled. “Aw, well I think it’s sweet Grunkle Ford.” 

Dipper frowned. “I don’t get it, though. Why didn’t you use the tape to stop yourself from contacting Bill, or to stop you from falling into the portal?”

The room grew quiet, only broken by Mabel saying: “or stopping you two from your big dumb fight.” 

Ford sighed. “Unfortunately, we were not able to adjust to the past, especially not if we were involved. It could cause another potential world-ending event.” He saw the twins’ fallen faces and smiled at them. “...it’s for the best. And instead, I got to be there in one of the most important moments in our family history. Mishaps and all.” 

He felt Mabel leap up at him and wrapped him in a hug. Dipper came soon after, and then came Stan, enveloping all of them in a bone-crushing embrace. 

“Aw, yer such an old sap, Sixer,” said Stan, with a just audible sniffle.

“Yes, well,” said Stanford, hugging his family back. “I suppose I am. But it takes one to know one.”

“He got us, Grunkle Stan,” said Dipper. 

“We’re all sappy,” said Mabel. “We’re the Pines family, duh!”

Stan grumbled half-heartedly. Dipper winced, but there was still a smile on his face. 

He and his family were a bunch of saps, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#secret santa 2021 #technically 2022 #anyways please take this humble offering #happy late holiday #gravity falls

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Shards of Glass 2/2

After over thirty years, Ma is getting paid a visit, all thanks to the persuasion of a sweater-making, pig-loving teenager. (Here’s part 2, as promised. Hope it lives up to everyone’s expectations!)

@thestanbros

~~~~~~~~~~

Despite it being over forty years since he had been home, Stan found it so easy and so familiar as he walked down the sidewalks with his family that he could probably travel blindfolded. So many times he and Ford had walked down this way for home from the beach, just in time for dinner.

It was sad how much anxiety Stan was having over visiting his own mother, how badly his stomach was turning; he attempted to distract himself by observing his childhood home. The buildings hadn't changed much, except for the interiors. Almost every business that was here in his youth was either replaced or drastically renovated. Except for the Belgian Waffle Store, that place was bustling with people eating a late-breakfast or an early-lunch.

And there it was. Sandwiched between the waffle joint and a new shoe store was the old pawn shop that had been transformed into a comic book store. Mabel grinned and rushed up to the windows, pressing her face against it to get a good look at the displayed comics. "Wow! You should feel right at home, huh Grunkle Stan?"

He snorted a quick laugh. "Bet this place'll make more money now than it ever did for our old man."

Mabel entered with Dipper by his side. The old men lingered but eventually wandered inside. Ford was gently reminded of a comfortable library. Where Pa's shelves of expensive products used to be now had beanbags and a coffee table in its place. A desk stood where his desk once stood, now hosting a young lady with brown hair in a ponytail and she smiled. "Hi! Finding everything okay?"

Mabel hopped on over while Dipper stalled, intrigued by a science-fiction comic book he had heard of but never read. "Hi! I'm Mabel! Is Caryn Pines here?"

The young lady grinned and nodded. "Oh yeah! She's home, just go up these stairs here and knock. Sweet lady, let me and Lindsey room with her for cheaper rent, she's the best roommate anyone could ask for. Friends of her?"

"You could say that," Dipper said easily and started for the stairs, the ones that led to the door for the living room. "C'mon."

Mabel and Dipper entered the closed-in stairwell with the grunkles behind them, halfway through, Ford stopped them. "Wait, kids, maybe… maybe you should say hi to her first."

Mabel turned and gave him a warning look with her hands on her hips. "You're not gonna run away, are you?"

"No, that's not what I had in mind." Ford said, though it didn't sound like a bad idea. "This is a lot to take in, so… maybe we should do this gradually."

Stan nodded. "Yeah, let her say hi to your kids first, okay?"

Dipper and Mabel exchanged looks and then nodded, agreeing that this was a good idea. Mabel then hurried to the door and knocked cheerfully.

"C'min."

Mabel opened the door and grinned at the sight before her. Sitting at her window, though her glowing pink eye long gone, Ma Pines sat with her ankles crossed and some knitting in her hands, still in white heels, but now sporting a red skirt with a white sweater and her long hair, now silver-white, was still up in her bun and she could never say no to her golden earrings and bracelets. Her eyes were just as keen as ever and she held herself up with that same confidence she always had. At the sight of her great-grandchildren, she smiled calmly and said spookily as she sat her knitting aside, "Ah, I've been expectin' choo two."

Mabel gasped with shining eyes. "Really?!"

Ma laughed and waved her little fib away. "Nah, that's just something I used to tell customers." No longer playing pretend, she grinned and opened her arms, "Now c'mere and hug this old lady!"

Mabel had never seen such a beautiful smile. She ran into her arms and hugged her tightly. She smelled like an old lady, maybe too much perfume with a hint of freshly baked bread and… vapor rub? Some sort of lotion? Whatever. Dipper soon joined the hug and Ma's thin arms hugged them tightly. The twins wondered if she would ever let them go, but soon she held them by the shoulders to look at them.

"Look at choo." Ma awed. "Just look at choo… You're both so beautiful. You're both almost adults. Holy Moses, who gave choo two permission to grow up?"

Mabel giggled and squeezed her hand. "It's so good to see you, Ma! We've really missed you!"

"I've missed you, too. Your father doesn't brin' choo down here nearly enough. Speakin' of which, where is Alex? Browsin' the store?"

Dipper rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Actually, he's still in California with Mom."

"We came here with someone else," Mabel said open-ended.

The older pair of twins, who were listening at the door, exchanged petrified looks, but they knew they couldn't leave their mother waiting any longer. Ford opened the door and they both stepped in silently to allow Ma to react as she saw fit.

Stan pulled off his beanie and held it with both hands while Ford pocketed his hands in his jacket. The old scientist swallowed and looked down at the carpeted floor. His twin did the opposite, his eyes locked on his mother as he took in her appearance and how she had changed. At the same time, she was staring at her sons with a hard expression on her face, both stern and difficult to read.

Ford took in a deep breath and muttered, "Hello, Ma."

Stan cracked a nervous smile and quipped, "You look good." And then he mentally kicked himself. What the hell was that?!

Ma stood and Dipper and Mabel moved aside. Everyone in the room was nervous, except for the old lady, who had a collective atmosphere to her that terrified everyone even more, unsure of how long it would last. When she was only a step or two away from her grown children, Ma said quietly, "So, choo finally decided to come clean?"

The men whose father named them both Stan stared at her in astoundment. "What?" They both gasped.

"Stanley, sweetheart," Ma sighed with a smile and she shook her head. "Choo might pull a great impression of your brother, but I know choo better than that. Even as kids I could always tell the difference. Always." She bit her lip as her eyes filled with tears. "Now, do I get to hug my sons or not?" She croaked with open arms.

Stan's bottom lip trembled and Ford just stared as he realized just how wonderful his mother truly was, and then both grown men quickly embraced her and held her tightly.

"We're so sorry."

"Please forgive us."

"We're so sorry."

"Please forgive us."

"Choo darlin' idiots," Ma said and squeezed them back tightly, as each face was buried in her shoulder and everyone's breathing was much more controlled now. "It's okay."

"Ma, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"Stanley…"

"No, I mean it. I should've…"

"I should have done more when I had the chance…"

"Stanford…"

"We're so sorry."

"Please forgive us."

"Hey, hey," Ma was now rubbing circles into their backs. "It's alright. It's alright. I always knew and already forgave choo."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Stan asked.

"I knew choo had your reasons." Ma replied calmly. "I trust my little free spirit."

They heard a sniff come from behind Ma and they all looked at the teenagers to find Mabel scrubbing her eyes with a fist and Dipper rolling his eyes at his sister with a small smile.

"Sweetheart, you're not cryin', are you?" Ma asked lightly.

Mabel shook her head. "N-No…" Her smile unwavering through her white lie.

Ma chuckled and let her boys go. "Well, you two owe me an explanation, and I got a feelin' it's gonna take a while. How 'bout some tea and cookies?"

"Yes, please." Mabel said and followed her great-grandmother into the kitchen to help.

It was like when Ford first came out of the portal all over again. Except this time they were in the warm sunshine, but the cold basement. Except this time they sipped on hot tea and nibbled on old gingersnaps. Except they began the storytelling from when Ford sent the postcard and skipped to when Dipper and Mabel first arrived in Gravity Falls. Except this story had a much happier ending. And the four visiting Pines silently agreed to keep Bill Cipher in the dark and they made it sound like at the end of the summer Ford and Stan rekindled their relationship on their own without needing a mind-wipe to do it.

By the time the sun was setting on the buildings, Ma was wearing Mabel's new purple sweater and she was nodding and satisfied with the tale. Really, when her sons gave it some thought, it was ridiculous to think they could pull the wool over the eyes of not only one of the greatest conmen they have ever known, but their own mother.

Now it was time for Ma to have some fun. When filling her in was over, Mabel gleefully requested, "Tell us embarrassing stuff about our grunkles!"

Ma laughed and stood. "Hold that thought, sweetheart. I have something you'll like…" She went to a bookshelf and pulled out an old black photo album. She opened it and sat next to Mabel, lying the book on her lap. Mabel gasped and grinned to find two newborn babies lying in a crib and sleeping together, wrapped burrito-style in blankets and they had little hats to keep their heads warm.

"AW!"

"Yup, that's when we brought the boys home." Ma laughed as Dipper looked down at the pair of twins in the black-and-white picture. "Choo know, Stanford was born first, but the whole time he was without Stanley he cried his whittle heart out…"

"Ma!"

"What, it's true."

"Since when do you love the truth so much?" Ford asked cheekily and smiled at her playfully.

"Alright, mister, let's see how your niece likes this picture…"

"SAILOR SUITS!" Mabel screamed and her eyes grew to the size of saucers. "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, OH MY GOSH! You guys were so cute!"

"Oh, this is them getting a bath…"

"MA!"

After half an hour of embarrassing her sons without mercy, Ma gave Mabel the scrapbook only asking that her great-granddaughter take good care of it and use it to blackmail her sons. It was time for the sailors to return to the boat, so she stood at the back door in the neatly-kept alleyway and hugged the kids goodbye. She snuck in a kiss on each of their cheeks before looking at her sons.

Immediately her expression turned cold and she growled, "And if any of choo knuckleheads pull a stunt like that again…"

It didn't matter that the twins were in their sixties; they were just as terrified now as they were in their youth. They nodded in sync and Stan said, "I swear, Ma. And… we'll do a better job staying in touch. I promise."

Ford nodded in agreement and Ma's expression immediately softened. "That's all I want." She said with a smile. "A phone call every so often is all I ask for."

Ford nodded and smiled. "We'll call you. We love you."

"I love you two, babies, c'mere." With one last squeeze and a swift kiss on each of their cheeks, Ford and Stan finally found the strength to let her go.

As they walked down the sidewalk and headed for home, the two pairs of twins looked back and found Ma still standing there and waving them goodbye. They waved in return and turned around for their next adventure.

#GF #gravity falls #ma pines #ford pines #stan pines #mabel pines #dipper pines #fanfiction #june 15th #ANGST AND FLUFF #mostly fluff

[omnifalls-10]

Omni Falls Chapter 4: The Lil Psycho

It's a peaceful weekend at the Mystery Shack. As Grunkle Stan swindles tips from the tourists outside, Dipper, Mabel, and Soos sit at the table, discussing Dipper's mysterious watch and how he found it as the young Pine drinks a soda while his sister knits a sweater.

"So you found that watch in a mysterious ball?", Soos summarizes. "And after that you fought a giant gnome monster by turning a rock alien?"

"Diamond alien.", Dipper corrects.

"So does this mean you morph into aliens now?", Soos questions.

"It seems so.", Dipper replies.

"Cool dude. So what aliens can you turn into?". Soos probes, curious on what aliens he can morph as.

"So far he's morphed into the diamond alien, the red one that can shoot water, the speedy one, and the plant that can shoot fire but smells like a dumpster.", Mabel tallies off as she continues to knit herself a new sweater.

Dipper rubs his chin in thought. "Hm. But there could be potentially more than that."

Soos looks amazed by this. "Dude, that sounds awesome! Did you ever name any of them?"

"I only named Diamondhead, the crystal alien, Water Hazard, the water alien, and Swampfire, the plant one,", Dipper answers as he heads to the trash bin to throw away the soda can.

"Why Swampfire?", Soos asks.

"'Cause he smells like a flaming dumpster, when he transforms.", Mabel answers to which Dipper nods in agreement.

"Hm. Did you come up with a name for the speed alien?", Soos inquiers.

"Why, yes, Soos.", Dipper puffs his chest, priding himself on a cool name. "Blitz." Such a cool name, he thinks. Unfortunately, Mabel and Soos don't agree with this.

"Boooooooo!", Mabel and Soos jeers.

"What? You guys got anything better?", Dipper scoffs as he sits at the table, reading the Journal.

"Oh, I got one.", Mabel answers, dropping her sweater she's knitting to flail her arms dramatically. "Speedy!".

"That sounds like a cartoon character.", Dipper clarifies.

"Speedster?", Soos tries a name.

"That sounds even more bland than Blitz."

"Quicksilver!"

"The name's taken. Plus the alien is more blue and black than silver."

"Flash?"

"Taken."

"Zoom Zoom?"

"That sounds like a jingle for a commercial."

Mabel stops and thinks for a moment before she gets an idea, smiling. "How about XLR8?!"

"Awesome name, little dude.", Soos is impressed as he holds his hand out for Mabel to high five. Dipper just shrugs, he honestly doesn't mind because it would be nice to make names for the aliens that he would turn into. It would help for him to have an alias to turn towards in case someone would know about the aliens he would have.

But the chances of that happening are slim to none. As they start conversing on other random topics, the TV transitions into a commercial Soos recognizes.

"Hey, look. It's that commercial I was telling you guys about.", Soos points to the screen showing an actor crying.

"Are you completely miserable?", the announcer asks, to which the actor says "YES!". The announcer continues, "Then you need to meet..." before a lady's voice comes in with a silhouette in the background. "Gideon."

"Gideon?", Dipper asks, looking at the screen, curiously.

"What makes him so special?", Mabel inquires, wanting to know more about this mysterious figure.

"He's a psychic.", the announcer answers, intriguing the Pine Twins even more. "So don't waste your time with another so-called 'man of mystery'." The screen shows a clip of Stan coming out of an outhouse and is stamped with the word "FRAUD". "Learn about tomorrow tonight at Gideon's Tent of Telepathy."

"Wow, I'm getting all curiousy inside...", Mabel admits.

"Well, don't get too curiousy.", Stan answers with an annoyed expression on his face as he enters the room and flips up his eyepatch and hangs his suit jacket on his racket. "Ever since that monster Gideon rolled into town, I've had nothin' but trouble."

"But, is he really psychic?", Dipper asks his grunkle.

"I think we should go and find out.", Mabel suggests, wanting to see this psychic for herself.

"Never! You're forbidden from patronizing the competition!", Grunkle Stan exclaims in anger. "No one that lives under my roof is allowed under that Gideon's roof!" That said, the conman walks away to count his earnings, grumbling.

"Do tents have roofs?", Dipper wonders out loud since Stan left the room.

"I think we just found our loophole... literally!", Mabel proudly declares as she holds a string with a loophole, making her, Dipper, and Soos laugh at the cheesy joke, causing them to miss the announcer's words in the end.

"So come down soon, folks. Gideon is expecting you."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

As the evening air is crisp as Dipper, Mabel, and Soos arrive at the Tent of Telepathy. At first glance, it looks like the Mystery Shack but in reverse, even down to Bud Gleeful standing at the entrance with a sack for customers to put money in.

"Whoa, this is like a bizarro version of the Mystery Shack.", Dipper admits as he looks around. "They even have their own Soos." He points to a maintenance worker who looks very similar to Soos, named Deuce, to which he glares at him.

"Sshh!", Mabel shushes her brother. "It's starting!"

"Let's see what this monster looks like.", Dipper murmurs skeptically. The crowd is holding their breath as a large silhouette comes forward on the stage, but starts to shrink with each step until it is in the center. The curtains pull back to reveal a short child younger than the Pines donning a large pompadour and wearing a baby blue business suit, complete with large shoulder pads, a jade bolo tie, and a flashy cape.

"Hello America!", the Gideon greets the audience, his smile being warm. "My name is Li'l Gideon." He claps and doves fly out of his hair, causing the crowd to cheer.

"That's Stan's mortal enemy?", Dipper asks, confused by how this child could be the rival to their grunkle.

"But he's so wittle.", Mabel adds, smiling at how cute the little guy is.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is such a gift to have you here tonight!", Gideon announces to the crowd. "Such a gift. I have a vision. I predict that you will soon all say, 'aww.'" Gideon makes a cute pose and the crowd immediately gushes.

"It came true.", Mabel speaks in awe, holding her cheeks in admiration.

"What?", Dipper rolls his eyes. "I'm not impressed."

"You're impressed!", Mabel teases.

"Hit it, Dad!" Gideon calls his father, Bud Gleeful. He starts playing the piano and the young psychic starts dancing as he sings."Oh, I can see what others can't see. It ain't some sideshow trick, it's innate ability. Where others are blind, I am futurely inclined. And you too could see, if you was widdle ol' me!"

"Come on, everybody, rise up! I want y'all to keep it going!" Gideon calls out to the crowd. They, including Soos and the twins, rise, seemingly unintentionally, and they start to clap along with the beat. This confuses Dipper as this happens.

"Wha—? How did he—?", Dipper stammers in bewilderment as he looks at the young psychic.

"Keep it going!", Gideon calls to the audience before pointing to an elderly woman in the crowd. "You wish your son would call you more."

"I'm leaving everything to my cats!", the old woman yells, with her cat on her lap affirming her.

"I sense that you've been here before.", Gideon predicts as he points at Sheriff Blubs, who is wearing a shirt with Gideon's face on it and holding various other Li'l Gideon merchandise.

"Oh, what gave it away?", he gushes.

"Come on.", Dipper scoffs at this psychic's pitiful predictions. In an instant, Gideon appears beside the Pine Twins, continuing his song. "I'll read your mind if I'm able."

"Something tells me you're named Mabel", Gideon predicts before heading back to the stage.

"How'd he do that?", Mabel asks herself in amazement, she isn't even wearing her name on her sweater.

"So welcome all ye... to the Tent of Telepathy. And thanks for visiting... widdle ol' me!", Gideon finishes his dance as the song ends. The crowd cheers wildly as the young psychic catches his breath.

"Thank you! You people are the real miracles!", Gideon thanks the crowd as he drinks a bottle of water. The crowd leaves, very pleased with the performance that occurred in the Tent of Telepathy. Except for the cynical Dipper.

"Woo! Yeah!", Mabel cheers in excitement. "That was amazing!"

"No wonder our uncle's jealous." Dipper smirks, knowing that despite being fraudulent about being a psychic, Gideon is at least more entertaining than Stan. "That kid's an even bigger fraud than Stan!"

"Oh, come on.", Mabel encourages. "His dance moves were adorable! And did you see his hair? It was like, whoosh!"

"You're too easily impressed.", Dipper remarks, knowing that it doesn't take much to make his sister go starry-eyed.

"Yeah, yeah!", Mabel laughs, giving Dipper a playful shove as he starts laughing with her. What they don't know is that they are a pair of eyes watching them leave in intrigue and obsession.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

In the quiet morning, Dipper browses through the journal psychic related. He remembers what Gideon did to the audience by raising up unanimously like they were under his command, even Dipper himself, who never intended to get up. He wants to know if there is something that could do what the young psychic did to the audience because Dipper doesn't believe that Gideon is inherently psychic, mind you, but he's aware that he's able to control individuals somehow. So far he's found nothing.

His focus is deterred by his bubbly sister. "Check it out, Dipper! I successfully bedazzled my face!", Mabel exclaims as she blinks some of the sequins from her eyelids. "Ow."

"Um...Is that permanent?", Dipper asks, not sure how he's supposed to react to something like this.

"I'm unappreciated in my time…", She laments, disappointed that her brother can't appreciate her artistic ability. The doorbell rings.

"Somebody answer that door!", Grunkle Stan yells from upstairs.

"I'll get it!", Mabel answers as she wipes the sequins off her face as she heads to the door. She opens it up and finds a bashful Gideon on the other side.

"Howdy.", the young psychic warmly greets her.

"It's 'wittle ol' you!", Mabel gasps in surprise.

"Yeah, my song's quite catchy.", He laughs nervously before he gets to the point, rubbing his arm. "Now, I know we haven't formally met, but after yesterday's performance, I just couldn't get your laugh out of my head."

"You mean this one?", the bubbly Pine asks before doing her signature laugh, much to Gideon's delight.

"Oh, what a delight!", Gideon smiles brightly. "Now, when I saw you in the audience, I said to myself, 'Now there's a kindred spirit! Someone who appreciates the sparkly things in life.'"

"That's totally me!", Mabel laughs before coughing up some sequins that land on Gideon's suit, bedazzling it. This amazes the young psychic.

"Enchanting.", Gideon whsipers. "Utterly enchanting."

"Who's at the door?!", Grunkle yells from inside.

"No one, Grunkle Stan!", Mabel yells back in response.

"I appreciate your discretion." Gideon thanks. "Stan's no fan of mine. I don't know how a lemon so sour could be related to a peach so sweet."

"Aww, you're just saying that.", Mabel giggles at the compliment.

"Oh, I mean it with all sincerity.", Gideon ensures her. "Now, what do you say we step away from here, and chat a bit more. Perhaps in my dressing room?"

"Oh! Makeovers!" Mabel exclaims in delight. "Yahoo!" She pokes Gideon in his stomach a little too hard.

Gideon laughs before holding his gut in pain, mumbling "...Ow."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Mabel returns to the Mystery Shack with her makeover: her hair is curled and held in place an absurd amount of hairspray, overmanucured nails, and excessive amount of makeup. She sees her brother at the same chair from earlier, deeply engrossed into his journal. "Hey Dipper. What's goin' oooon?", she asks as she dangles manicured fingernails over Dipper's head.

He looks up from the journal to see her fingernails and slaps them away in surprise. "Whoa, where have you been? And what's going on with those fingernails, you look like a wolverine." He really doesn't like this much makeup on his sister. It's making her look even more bizarre than the sequins she had on her face.

"I know, right?", she answers, playfully growling and scratching the air. "I was hanging out with my new pal, Gideon. He is one dapper little man."

Dipper sighs. "Mabel, I wouldn't trust anyone whose hair is bigger than their head."

"Oh, leave him alone!", Mabel defends her new pal. "You never want to do girly stuff with me! You and Soos get to do boy stuff all the time." Anything girly she wanted to do, Dipper would opt out and do boy stuff with Soos. Gideon's a breath of fresh air to share the same interests she has.

"What do you mean?", Dipper asks, only for Soos to come in the room, excited.

"Hey dude, you ready to blow up these hot dogs in the microwave one by one?!", the handyman asks, holding the hot dog pack in his face.

"Am I!", Dipper answers, equally excited as they run into the kitchen to pop the dogs in the microwave, laughing. Mabel sighs, rolling her eyes as Dipper proves her point.

The next day arrives and Gideon takes Mabel to the roof of his factory. They are able to see the whole town of Gravity Falls.

"Whoa, the view from your family's factory is nuts!", Mabel exclaims at the view from up top. "Good thing we both bought our….."

"Opera glasses!", she and Gideon cheer, bringing them before pointing them at each other, laughing.

"Mabel, when I'm up here lookin' down on all those little ol' people, I feel like I'm king of all I survey." Gideon explains, whispering the last part ominously. He turns to her, smiling. "I guess that makes you my queen!"

"You are being so nice to me right now, quit it!" Mabel laughs, smacks him in the stomach, playfully.

"I can't quit it. I am speaking from the heart." Gideon admits, holding his heart.

"From the where-now?". Mabel is confused by where the young psychic is going.

"Mabel, I've never felt this close with anyone. So, so close." Gideon explains, stroking his crush's hair, giggling.

"Look Gideon, um…", Mabel tries to explain as she pushes his hand away, uncomfortable. "I like you a lot, but let's just be friends."

"At least just give me a chance." Gideon insists. "Mabel, will you do me the honor of going on a date with me?"

"A play date?", Mabel helplessly asks.

"Uh-uh."

"A shopping date?"

"Nope. It'll just be one li'l ol' date, I swear on my lucky bolo tie." Gideon swears, holding his bolo tie. Mabel looks at the smitten psychic’s green eye, uncertain. She knows that Gideon means well and it would be cruel of her to leave him up on his offer. After all, he promises for one date and he seems to be a man of his word.

"Ummm. Okay, then... I guess…", Mabel answers, still feeling weary about it internally.

"Mabel Pines, you have made me the happiest boy in the world!", Gideon laughs, giving her a big hug. She doesn't feel fully comfortable with it until she realizes something.

"Are you sniffing my hair?"

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"It's not a date-date, it's just, you know, I didn't want to hurt his feelings and so I figured I'd throw him a bone.", she explains her dating situation as she and her brother play some video games in the living room.

"Mabel, guys don't work that way.", Dipper refutes, his focus never faltering from the game. "You give them an inch, they'll take a mile. At some point, he's gonna fall in love with you."

"Yeah right. I'm not that lovable.", she scoffs, before executing Dipper in the game, cheering in victory. "Yes!"

"Okay, we agree on something here." he grouses and drops the controller. The doorbell rings outside, causing Mabel to stand up and get it.

"I'll go get it", Mabel goes to answer the door, only for a white stallion horse to burst through, neighing. This causes her to scream in surprise and take a few steps back. She looks up from the horse to see Gideon donning cowboy attire, extending her hand out towards her.

"A night of enchantment awaits, m'lady!", he says.

"Oh boy.", she mumbles, to herself. After the horse ride towards their destination, an aquatic themed restaurant which is one of the expensive and finest restaurants in Gravity Falls, they're able to get their own private booth. Even Gideon's stallion is allowed in as it drinks from the fountain.

"I can't believe they let us bring a horse in here.", Mabel says awkwardly. Honestly, the extravagance of this place is not something she's used to being in. Even the menu options when she first checked looked very expensive, even though Gideon said he would pay for it.

"Well, people have a hard time saying no to me.", Gideon winks at her, putting his feet up on the table. As he does this, a waiter arrives to refill their glasses with crystal water, smiling.

"Ah, Monsieur Gideon! Ze feet on ze table! An excellent choice!", the waiter compliments.

"Jean Luc, what did we discuss about eye contact?", Gideon asks, not even glancing at the garcon, frowning.

"Yes, yes, very good.", the waiter adheres, walking back and keeping his eyes away from the young psychic.

Mabel actually looks down at her plate to see various forks, "I've never seen so many forks.", she mentions in amazement. "And water with bubbles in it? Ooh lala, oui, oui."

"Oh! Parlez vous francais?", Gideon asks her.

"...I have no idea what you're saying.", She admits. This makes the young psychic chuckle as their orders arrive, a live lobster for Mabel and a steak with mash potatoes for Gideon.

"I gotta say Mabel", Gideon speaks. "I've been to this restaurant many times but tonight, it feels very special."

"Yeah…", she says as spokes at the lobster on her plate which it pinches her fork in return.

"And tomorrow's date promises to top this one in every way!", Gideon promises.

This causes her to jolt up in realization at what he just said. "Whoa whoa, you said just one date, and this was it."

"Hark! What a surprise!", Gideon says, seemingly ignoring what Mabel is saying. "A red crested South American rainbow macaw!" As he said that, a giant macaw lands on Gideon's forearm. He silently counts to three before the macaw talks.

"MABEL! WILL YOU- ACCOMPANY- GIDEON- TO- THE BALLROOM DANCE- THIS THURBDAY-", Gideon shakes the bird briefly. "THURSDAY?!" The macaw coughs up a letter and flies away. After that declaration, many of the patrons started gushing at Gideon's display of affection to the point crowd near the booth in excitement on Mabel's decision.

"They're expectin' us. Please say you'll go.", Gideon asks her, holding up the letter and unaware of the pressure he's putting on her.

"Oh, Gideon, I'm sorry, but I'm gonna have to say-", Mabel starts before looking back at the patrons and to Gideon, who are waiting for her to say yes. She's been promised only one date and that's all she wanted, but the pressure from saying no to someone who went out their way to do this seems too steep. She doesn't want to disappoint anyone, especially Gideon. After a deep breath, she makes her decision.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

At the Mystery Shack, Stan arrives in front, looking miffed as he holds a newspaper article showing a picture of Gideon and Mabel together with Dipper, Wendy, and Soos. "Hey, hey! What the jackal is Mabel doing in the paper next to that crazy pickpocket Gideon?!" Stan specifically told to not hang around the little gremlin. Why don't they listen?

"Oh, yeah, it's like a big deal.", Wendy explains, looking up from her magazine. "Everybody's talking about Gideon and Mabel's big date tonight."

"WHAT?! That little shyster is dating my great niece!?", Stan yells.

"I wonder what the new name will be for the power couple. Mabideon? Gideabel?", Soos brainstorms before gasping."Magidbeleon!" Stan turns towards a nervous Dipper.

"You knew anything about this, kid?", he interrogates him.

"I didn't!', Dipper answers. "I didn't hear about it and plus, I told her not to do it anyway." After hearing this, Stan grumbles before re-entering, wearing his suit.

"Yeah, well it ends tonight.", Stan declares, heading towards the door. "I'm going right down to that little skunk's house; this is gonna stop RIGHT now!" He slams the door and heads to the car, driving to the Gleeful residence. Stan's car skids to a halt in front of Gideon's house. He gets out of the car and marches towards the front lawn and starts knocking on the door, loudly.

"Gideon, you little punk! Open up!", Stan yells before reading a sign on the door that says 'Please Pardon This Garden', before slamming the sign towards the ground. "I will pardon NOTHING!" Gideon doesn't answer the door, rather, his father, Bud Gleeful answers it with a balmy smile.

"Why, Stanford Pines! What a delight!", Bud greets the conman.

"Out of the way Bud, I'm looking for Gideon!", Stan answers, pushing past the patriarch to find the little twerp.

"Well, I haven't seen the boy around.", Bud informs, his smile never leaving. "But since you're here, you simply must come in for coffee!" He gently pulls Stan inside.

"But-but I came-", Stan stutters, trying to get back to his task.

"Ah, ah, ah. It's imported.", Bud explains. "All the way from Colombia." They walk as the tea starts to get made.

"Wow... I went to jail there once." Stan remembers fondly. He allows himself to enjoy the interior design of the house, whistling. "Some digs you got here.", he compliments before eyes focus on a clown painting. "Oh, this. This is beautiful." Bud and Stan sit down and enjoy some freshly brewed coffee.

"Now, I hear that your niece and my Gideon are, well, they're singin' in harmony lately so to speak.", Bud recalls, seemingly happy for son's blooming romance with his beau.

"Uh, yeah, and I'm against it!", Stan declares, pushing a couch cushion to prove a point.

"No no no. I see it as a fantastic business opportunity.", Bud explains to Stan as they pass across the family photo in which there was Bud, Mrs. Gleeful, and their two children: a younger Gideon and a blonde haired teen with a bored expression. "We've been at each other's throats for far too long, yes we have. This is our big chance to set aside our rivalry and pool our collective profit, you see."

Stan closes the register. "I'm listening."

While Stan and Bud are talking about financial profiting, Mabel returns to the Shack after an emotionally draining date with the lobster still on her. She walks in to see Dipper relaxing at the table as he's reading his from the Journal.

He looks up to see his sister come in. "Hey. How'd it go?"

"I don't know.", Mabel answers, putting the crustacean in the fish tank. "...I have a lobster now."

"Well, at least it's over and you'll never have to go out with him again.", Dipper proclaims before going back to reading. He realizes his sister hasn't said anything, onliy tapping on the glass of the fish tank. "Mabel? It's over, right? Right?"

She turns around and exclaims frustratingly, flailing her arms. "He asked me out again and I didn't know how to say no!"

"Mabel, it's not that hard. All you have to do is say no."

"It's not that simple, Dipper.", Mabel says. "I do like Gideon, as a friend slash little sister, so I didn't want to hurt his feelings! I just need to get things back to where they used to be. You know, friends."

Easier said than done. Dipper thinks to himself, shaking his head. Mabel has always been the one that tried to make everyone else feel joyous. Disappointing them is something she hates doing.

True to Dipper's thought process, Mabel tried to say how she really felt about dating Gideon, only for her to backtrack and just go dancing with him on the ballroom floor. She tried again when they were getting some food, but she got nervous as people were gushing at the "couple". Even now, as they're boat riding down the stream with Old Man McGucket paddling, she's mentally trying to push herself into telling Gideon the truth.

"Hah, you know I thought dancing was gonna be the end of the evening, right?", Mabel recalls, nervously as Gideon said that they were just going dancing. Gideon holds her hands, lovingly.

"Don't you want this evenin' to last, my sweet?", the young psychic asks.

She instinctively jolts away. "NO!", she answers quickly before backtracking and trying to be more passive towards the clingy Gleeful. "I mean yes. I mean I'm always happy to hang out with a friend, buddy, pal, chum, other word for friend…"

"Pal?", McGucket chimes in.

"I already said pal.", Mabel answers before coming up with another word. "Mate?"

"How about soulmate?", Gideon asks, lovingly. As he said, fireworks appear with a heart and Mabel's name inside of it. She looks distraught, she wanted to just to let Gideon off easy but he's basically put her in a situation that she can't say no to.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Dipper walks downstairs, humming. Once gets closer down the stairs, he hears his sister talking towards herself.

"...I mean, he's so nice, but.. I can't keep doing this. But I can't break his heart. I have no way out!", Mabel rants towards, walking around in a circle, trying to find a way out of this.

Dipper walks in. "What in the heck happened on that date?", he asks her.

"I don't know!", Mabel admits, holding her head in frustration. "I was in the friend zone, and then before I knew what was happening, he pulled me into the romance zone. It was like quick sand! Chubby quicksand!"

Dipper shakes his head and puts a consoling hand on shoulder. "Mabel, come on. It's not like you're gonna have to marry Gideon.", he comforts her. Unfortunately, Stan doesn't get the memo as he walks in with a Team Gideon T-Shirt.

"Great news, Mabel. You have to marry Gideon!", Stan informs, much to her distress.

Mabel is distraught. "Wh-what?!"

"Yep. It's all part of my long term deal with Buddy Gleeful. There's a lot of cash tied up in this thing.", the conman explains, pointing to his T-Shirt. "Plus I got this shirt. Ugh, I am fat." Mabel runs out of the living room, screaming.

"Bodies change, kid!", Stan yells to her, missing the point as to why she ran. "Bodies change…." Dipper just sighs and walks into the attic to see Mabel hiding in her sweater. It's getting that bad.

"Oh no. Mabel?", Dipper asks.

She's cradling her head in her sweater and rocking back and forth. ,"Mabel's not here. She's in sweater town."

He crouches near her with a sympathetic look on her face. "Are you gonna come out of sweater town?", he asks her, only for a whimper to be her response. "Alright, enough is enough. If you can't break up with Gideon, I'll do it for you."

She pops her head out with a hopeful expression. "You will?" He nods his head in response and she gives him the biggest hug that she can. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

True to his word, Dipper took a long trip across Gravity Falls flying as a new alien he found in the watch until he reached his destination: The Club, another restaurant known for its extravagance. He reverts back to his human form and takes a big breath before reaching inside to see Gideon sitting in a booth awaiting Mabel. Dipper heads to the booth and clears his throat.

"Oh. Dipper Pines, how are you?", Gideon greets the young Pine with simulated delight. "You look good, you look good."

"Thanks, you uh…", Dipper laughs nervously. "Look, Gideon. We've got to talk. Mabel isn't joining you tonight, she uh, she doesn't want to see you anymore. She's uh….. kinda weirded out by you, no offense." After he says those words, Gideon sitz there with the same expression on his face processing those words. He stays like that for three minutes, creeping Dipper out.

"So what you're sayin' is...you've come between us.", Gideon says very slowly, his eye twitching ever so slightly.

Dipper starts to get a little nervous. "You're not gonna like, freak out or anything, are ya?"

"Of course not.", Gideon laughs, faking a smile on his face. "These things happen. Bygones, you know."

Dipper sighs, relaxing. "Oh, well that's a relief." Just as he says that, the watch twitched from red to green, beeping to signify that it's charged up. This action causes him to jolt a bit in surprise and Gideon to look at it in intrigue.

"That's an interesting watch you got there.", Gideon inquires as looks at the watch. There's something engaging about it. "Where'd you get it?", Dipper instinctively hides his hand with the watch behind his back for a moment before coming with an answer.

"Uh...", Dipper stumbles before finding an answer. "I-I bought it from…..Japan. It took alot of money to get and it was a...rare item to search for, you know."

Gideon continues to stare at the young Pine, with a smile that starts to become erie. "Fascinatin'."

Dipper looks left and right, chuckling nervously. "So. Okay. Cool. Sorry man, again but uh, hey, thumbs up, right?" He turns around to leave, unaware that Gideon still had that malicious smile on his face.

"Thumbs up indeed, my friend.", he whispers to himself.

As he reaches outside, Dipper lets out a breath that he didn't know held. "Huh, that went better than expected." He honestly expected for Gideon to flip out if anything, he sighs and heads back to Shack, ready to tell her that her Gideon situation is taken care of…..or so he thinks.

In the Gleeful Residence, Gideon is staring into his mirror, seething with rage. He usually doesn't get this angry most of the time, but there are a few things that make reach this peak. The first cause for this could be that he couldn't get what he wants and the second being siblings. Everytime, he hears anything about siblings, it always goes back to his older brother. How his father or mother would look at the pictures of him fondly, how they wouldn't have so much finance without some of his help, how he would always be respectful towards his parents, how successful he is. Him, him, him. No matter what he tries, he'll never have the power, attention, and success to the magnitude of what his older brother has.

With Dipper, he did two things wrong: him being the brother of Mabel and him taking his love away from him. "Dipper Pines, you have no idea what you've done!" He growls, grabbing his amulet tightly and a candle starts to levitate and the light bulbs on his boudoir explode. His other furniture starts levitating. "You've just made the biggest mistake of your life!" And like that, he throws the levitated objects on the ground hard enough to shake the room.

Bud Gleeful arrives into the room, shocked to see mostly everything destroyed. "Gideon Charles Gleeful, clean up your room this instant!", he scolds his son, firmly.

"I CAN BUY AND SELL YOU, OLD MAN!", the young psychic yells furiously, scowling at his father, who looks taken aback before shrugging.

"Fair enough.", Bud sighs before closing the door. Gideon turns his attention away from the door and looks down to see a picture of his love, Mabel and the wretch who angers him, Dipper. He holds his amulet and concentrates on incinerating the side with Dipper, leaving Mabel on it. He laughs with malicious intent.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

After the breakup, Mabel has been feeling a whole lot better. To celebrate, Soos and the twins decide to have a simple game Soos tucks a pillow under his shirt and they try to tackle him.

"Hit me, dudes.", Soos holds his arms out, waiting for them to charge at him. They come at him in full force, laughing as they fall down. "Feels good."

"I'm so glad everything's back to normal!", Mabel sighs in content, feeling relieved that the Gideon ordeal is over.

"You said it.", Dipper agrees, chuckling. As he speaks, the phone rings from inside the Shack, causing the twins to look at each other.

"Your turn.", they both say, only for Dipper to say it later. He gets up and heads inside to answer it. "Hello?"

"Toby Determined, Gravity Falls Gossiper."

"Oh hey man. Sorry for accusing you of murder last week."

"Water under the bridge! Say, we want to interview you about whether you've seen anything unUSUAL about this here TOWN since you've arrived."

"Oh, finally! I thought nobody would ever ask! I have notes and theories! Uh huh, uh huh." He pulls out a notepad and writes the address Toby tells him. "412 Gopher Road. Tonight? Got it." He heads back out, telling Mabel and Soos where he's going and when he'll be back. After a long walk to his destination, he arrives at a factory. Dipper looks at the notepad to check and see if he has the right address, to which he realizes that he does. He opens the door to the factory.

"Hello?", Dipper calls out, hearing nothing. He looks inside to see that nobody's here and turns around to leave, only for the door to slam shut. He pushes on the door to try to open it to no avail. Suddenly, lights turn on and he turns around to see Gideon in a swivel chair, petting a doll of himself.

"Hello, friend.", the young psychic greets him, coldly.

"Ugh, Gideon.", Dipper groans, exasperatedly. Why is he bothering him?

"Dipper Pines, how long have you been living in this town?", Gideon asks the Pine, playing with his toy. "A week or two? You like it here? Enjoy the scenery?" His voice changes from veiled child-like curiosity to quiet fury at the second half of his question.

Dipper starts getting uneasy but calms himself. "What do you want from me, man?", he demands, wanting the young psychic to get to the point.

"Listen carefully, boy.", Gideon's tone becomes deathly serious. "This town has secrets you couldn't begin to understand!"

"Is this about Mabel?", Dipper asks, getting to the point. "I told you, she's not into you!"

This makes Gideon slam his arms on the swivel chair. "LIAR! YOU turned her against me!", he yells as he jumps from his chair, grabbing his amulet and marches toward Dipper. "She was my peach dumplin'!"

"Uh, you okay, man?", Dipper asks, walking back. Gideon lifts his hand up and Dipper's body is covered in an ethereal blue aura and lifted into the air. With a swipe of his hand, Dipper is thrown onto boxes hard. He pulls himself up only to see Gideon grinning at him with malice.

"Readin' minds isn't all I can do.", Gideon laughs ominously, enjoying the dread etched on Dipper's face.

"But-but you're a fake.", Dipper tries to explain.

"Oh? Then tell me, Dipper….", the sadistic child inquires, levitating various merchandise and objects. "Is this fake?" After that question, he starts throwing plates, spoons, and forks at Dipper, who dodges a good portion but gets nicked in the face, vest, and knee, much to the vengeful child's pleasure. Gideon decides to up the ante by throwing cups at constantly moving Pine.

Dipper does everything he can to avoid the merchandise Gideon telekinetically throws at him. The ruthless psychic grabs a cabinet and launches it at the Pine, who jumps out the way to avoid it but ends up hitting the back of his head in the process. He rubs it to ease the pain before he sees the malicious Gideon levitating above him, sneering.

"Grunkle Stan was right!", Dipper yells at the young psychic. "You are a monster!"

"Your sister will be mine!", Gideon declares madly, laughing as he lifts up another cabinet to launch at the young Pine, who hides behind a stack of heavy boxes. The cabinet crashes into the boxes to the wall. Dipper grunts as he realizes that his right arm is bruised, but thanks to the boxes taking most of the damage from the cabinet, he's mostly fine.

Dipper pushes himself up as much as he can to activate the watch. It beeps on and tries to find the right alien that can help. Diamondhead?, Dipper thinks. Swampfire?! Water Hazard?! XLR8?! Come on, there has to be an alien that I'm familiar with! He tries to find the aliens that he knows but to no avail. He almost stops seeing a fire alien. But could this help? He doesn't know what it can-

"Come on out, boy!", Gideon demands , levitating cutlery that are poised to skewer the shapeshifter. "I ain't finished punishing you yet!" Dipper hears this and tries to move, accidentally pressing it via moving across the boxes. As this happens, a massive green light illuminates under the boxes, temporarily blinding the vengeful psychic.

"What in tarnation?!", Gideon asks, puzzled. That green light just came from under there. How did this scoundrel create a light that bright? This might be a distraction of sorts. Gideon thinks as he starts getting impatient and levitates the boxes away. But before he can finish, a massive torrent of flames breaks out of the clutter in an explosive fashion.

Standing opposed to the malicious child is a confused charcoal man. He's composed of a brownish-red rocky texture with intense heat radiating from underneath, specifically ending out of his flaming head, hands, and feet. This shocks the young psychopath before he gets enraged.

"How?!", Gideon demands. "How did you manage to turn yourself into a Pyronite?!" His outrage causes the fiery man to jolt out of his stupor and gives a determined scowl towards the delusional psychic. So this is another flame alien like Swampfire. Maybe I should call him Hetablast, Dipper thinks before mentally sighing. Really wished I had something on this alien that….Gideon somehow knows? He shakes his head and focuses on the present.

"Stop this, Gideon.", the Pyronite demands before getting into a battle stance. "This is your first and final warning." His ultimatum provokes the sociopathic psychic more than he's already feeling at the moment. He lifts up his patented cutlery and launches them at the morphed Pine, who only raises his hand and gives a precise fireball that melts them and charges towards Gideon, pelting more fireballs at him. The crazy psychic sets up a shield as the fireballs explode and disperses on impact. The embers land on some of the boxes, to which causes them to ignite.

"You think you have the right to threaten me, boy?!", Gideon scowls, telekinetically grabbing the flaming boxes and tosses them at the flaming alien, who blasts them into nothing but ash. This gives the young psychic enough time to grab the Pyronite and throw him out through the wall.

Heatblast rubs his head, groaning in pain. "Ow...that hurt." Dipper gets up to see a levitating and apoplectic Gideon, holding up cabinets and heavy boxes. The insane psychic glares at the familiar emblem on the center of the Pyronite's chest. That design looks familiar, Gideon thinks before he realizes it. That watch! That watch is what is allowed that wretch to morph into that Pyronite. First, Dipper turns the love of his life against him and now, he has a piece of technology that can morph him into any alien he sees fit? The insane psychic doesn't know which one makes even more angrier. He decides to channel his anger into throwing his crates at his pyrokinetic opponent.

The transformed Pine dodges most of the crates and blasts the rest of them away. He looks at his fiery hands before looking at his fiery hands before looking at Gideon, who is pulling out more items from the factory as potential weaponry. The Pyro-Pine looks down, quickly trying to form a plan. He probably can't attack and defend at the same time. I can exploit that. He points both flaming hands on the ground. Let's hope Soos was right about copying that comic book character. The flames escape from Heatblast's hands and he finds himself being able to rocket up into the air via propulsion. Once he finds his balance, he flies towards Gideon at high speeds, reaching ascension and delivers a two handed fireball attack.

The vengeful Gleeful puts up his shield as Dipper delivers a massive fireball. Just at the right moment, Gideon grabs the fireball, the flames going from a raging orange to ethereal turquoise, and throws it back to the descending Pyronite. Reaching high velocities, Heatblast crashes into the grassy ground to leave a crater and upheaval of dirt, he propels him out of the crater after a moment's pass. Gideon levitates a massive assortment of lamb shears and in tow, the morphed Pine delivers an intense stream of fire that melts them onto the ground in a hot mesh.

While Dipper's attention was on melting the scissors, Gideon sneakily grabs two of his branded water gallons. After he deals with the scissors, he sets himself up and tosses them into Heatblast, the water causes the Pyronite's fire to be extinguished.

"Uh oh", Heatblast is surprised that his flames are out. What do I do?, Dipper thinks. Before coming up with an idea. If my flames are high enough to melt metal, maybe I can reignite- Heatblast is slammed by a barrage of heavy boxes courtesy of the vengeful Gideon. He finishes up his attack by grabbing one of his cabinets and lifts it up under the Dipper before slamming it down hard on top of the morphed Pine.

"What can you do now, boy?!", Gideon yells, grabbing every item in the factory, ready to finish off the transforming Pine. "That Pyronite form takes time to reignite! Now that you're weakened…." Heatblast gets up slowly, his heat coming back. Gideon tosses everything at him with devastating force. "DIE!"

The Pyronite gets himself up to deliver an equally powerful attack. "HAAA!", Heatblast screams intensely as he delivers a massive flow of flames, greater than before.

The barrage of items being thrown at high velocity and the great stream of fire causes a massive collusion. The massive collusion causes an explosion to erupt instantly, making Gideon to skid across the ground and Heatblast rolls across the grass, burning it, slamming into a tree before falling to the ground. After a few moments pass, Gideon and Heatblast get up, both looking heavily damaged. For Gideon, his blue suit is mostly covered in dirt and ripped on the sleeves and face is scrapped, there's some cuts on his arm. Despite this, he still looks very angry, panting for his breath. Heatblast's movement is slower than usual and, like Gideon, is panting, feeling exhausted.

Heatblast decides to ignite another fireball, while Gideon gets ready to counterattack. Just when he's about to launch at the Gleeful, he hears a dreadful sound. Beep-Beep-Beep. Heatblast's eyes widened. "Oh, no.", he rasps before being enveloped in a crimson light. What replaces the Pyronite is a beaten up Dipper, who's levitated by an apoplectic Gideon and slams him into the wall of the factory, knocking the wind out of him. He tries to break free but to no avail.

"Will you just give up?!", Dipper yells, glaring at the crazy child. "She's never gonna date you, man!"

"THAT'S A LIE!" Gideon screams in anger before his attention is turned towards a flaming box of lamb shears. He turns back at the restrained Pine, smiling sadistically. "And I'm gonna make sure you never lie to me again, friend." He levitates the flaming lamb shears slowly towards Dipper, who tries to move out the way but can't. The deranged psychic just keeps laughing in twisted delight as the shears get closer and closer towards cutting the Pine's face.

"Gideon! We have to talk!" Those words make Gideon freeze in surprise. He turns to see a livid Mabel with her fists clenched.

"M-Mabel. My marshmalla.", Gideon drops the shears on the ground before fixing his hair, nervous as he's caught redhanded. "What are you doin' here?"

Mabel closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry Gideon, but I can't be your marshmallow. I needed to be honest and tell you that myself."

Gideon is taken aback by what she says. She doesn't want to be his marshmallow? "I-I don't understand." he responds, squeezing the amulet that represents his broken heart, which in return, squeezes Dipper.

Dipper feels his body tightening up, uncomfortably. "Uh, Mabel!? This probably isn't the best time to be brutally honest with him!", he calls out to her. Mabel gets a brief look of concern on her face when she glances at Dipper before giving a "sincere" smile towards the distraught Gideon.

"Hey, but we can still be makeover buddies.", she offers, holding his hands gently. "Wouldn't you like that?"

"Really?", Gideon asks, hopeful as he loosens his grip on the amulet. Mabel's eyes never left the amulet and at the right moment, she takes the chance.

She snatches Gideon's amulet off and Dipper falls down."No, not really! You were attacking my brother, what the heck?!"she exclaims. Gideon is shocked by what Mabel just did and tries to get his tie.

"My tie! Give it back!", Gideon demands, only for Mabel throws the amulet to Dipper who gets up and runs after the amulet's trajectory and catches it.

"Not so powerful without this, are you?" Dipper taunts but Gideon screams and charges at Dipper with sudden speed, making him drop the amulet and knocking them both off the cliff.

"Dipper!"

Dipper and Gideon scream. Gideon punches Dipper and the two start hitting each other before they realize that they're getting closer to the ground, making them scream again. But before they splat on the ground, they're both covered in the ethereal blue aura. They look up to see Mabel, holding the mystic amulet, levitating along with them and then floats down.

"Listen Gideon, it's over. I will never, ever, date you.", she declares. With that, she drops them down and throws the amulet to the ground, breaking it. The ethereal glow howling away in the wind.

"MY POWERS! Oh this isn't over. This isn't the last you'll see of wittle... ol' me.", the crazed psychic declares, walking into the dark forest.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Stan finishes signing papers in the Gleeful's living room area. "Ah, this is livin', brother.", Stan sighs in content, leaning back on the couch.

"From now on it's all name brand foods and clown paintings.", Bud Gleeful agrees, taking a swig of his coffee. Just as he says that, a livid and beaten up Gideon bursts through the door. "Gideon? Are you—?"

Ignoring his father, Gideon stands on the coffee table, scowling at Stan, pointing his fist at him. "Stanford Pines, I rebuke thee! I rebuke thee!"

Stan is confused. "Rebuke? Is that a word."

"The entire Pines' family have invoked my wrath! You will all pay recompense for your transgressions!", Gideon declares as he points his nemesis.

"What, you got like a word-a-day calendar or something?", Stan asks, still not taking the young psychic's rage seriously.

"But-but sunshine?", Bud intervenes, laughing nervously. "What about our arrangement with Mabel and—?"

"SILENCE!", Gideon yells at his father, "The deal is off!"

Bud just sighs, before looking at the conman. "Well, I see that he's takin' to one of his rages again. Sorry Stan, but I have to side with Gideon on this one." He rips up the contract, terminating any plans for Mystery Shack and Tent of Telepathy merger.

"Okay, okay. I can see when I'm not wanted.", Stan realizes before grabbing the clown painting and starts to run.

"Stan, I'm-I'm sorry but I'm gonna need that painting back! Stan? STAN!", Bud tries to call out to the conman, only for his words to go on deaf ears.

"TRY AND CATCH ME, SUCKERS!", Stan declares, running to his car, putting the clown painting in the back, driving away. After a long ride, he arrives at the Mystery Shack, where he hangs up the clown painting. "I coulda had it all.", Stan contemplates. He turns and looks at the twins, who look exhausted physically and emotionally exhausted. "What the heck happened to you two?"

"Gideon.", The Pine Twins answer, equally tired after dealing with the crazy psychic.

"Gideon. Yeah, the little mutant 'swore vengeance' on the whole family.", Stan scoffs sitting in the recliner, mockingly raising his fist in the air imitating the angry psychic. "Ha, I guess he's gonna try to nibble my ankles or somethin'."

Dipper gets up a bit. He realizes that Gideon's powerless without his amulet. "Oh, yeah. How's he gonna destroy us now, huh? Try to guess what number we're thinking of?"

Mabel gets up, smiling at the young psychic's misfortune. "He'll never guess what number I'm thinking of.", Mabel says before laughing. "NEGATIVE EIGHT! No one would guess a negative number."

"Uh oh.", Stan gasps jokingly at the Twins. "He's plannin' on destruction right now!" He lays on top of the twins, to which they all laugh, enjoying Gideon's loss.

Meanwhile, at the Gleeful Household, in Gideon's room. He's making dolls of the Pines family, grumbling and growling to himself. He plays with the Mabel doll, looking at it lovingly as he imitates her voice. "Oh, Gideon, I still love you. If only my family weren't in the way." He picks up the Stan doll, disgusts etched on his face as he impersonates him. "Look at me. I'm old, and I'm smelly." He grabs the Dipper doll with a scowl on his face, mocking the Pine. "Hey, what are you gonna do without your precious amulet now that I got a watch that allows me to morph into aliens?"

He laughs, ominously. "Oh you'll see boy…", he closes Journal 2.

"You'll see."

#chapters #dipper pines #mabel pines #soos #stan pines #gideon gleeful #heatblast #omni falls

[98prilla]

Abductions, Past and Present

Next

Previous 

AO3

...

He’s hazy.

 Everything feels too slow, except his pulse is too fast, he can feel it fluttering in his chest, and he realizes with a sinking feeling that he knows, he knows this feeling, this is how he always feels afterwards, the sedatives still running through him, but he’s still numb enough he can’t feel whatever they’ve done, though that won’t last long, now, not if he’s getting awareness back.

 It must have been bad, if they decided to knock him out completely, he had an incredible tolerance for pain at this point, they haven’t put him fully under in years.

 He remembers the ship. Aliens. Patton, Logan, Virgil, Janus.

 But if he’s like this…

 He’d been right. He’d been right, it was all a lie.

 They were probably moving him out of the nice alien simulation area back into the cell, the cold, empty, icy cell, and he lets out a pathetic whimper, because he’d thought, he’d thought, he’d thought…

 But of course. Of course, it was a lie, a ruse, and he’d always been just stupid enough to fall for them.

 But he doesn’t hear Roman, anywhere, doesn’t feel him nearby, which is good. It means they really meant it, so early on, when they promised Roman could stay.  

 “Remus. Can you hear me?” Janus’s voice, and he winces, wishing it was anyone else, because he’d actually started not only trusting Janus, but liking being around him, feeling safe around him, and he doesn’t want to hear the explanation from him.

 “please. Just go.” He mumbles, voice rasping. His throat is dry and burning, acid in his throat, and he barely manages even that much. “S fine. I get it. Gotta hand it to ya, you’re all incredible actors.” He hears a sharp inhale, then the bed shifts, and he feels a hand against his head, stroking his hair. He pulls away, tears slipping down his face. “don’t. if you’re gonna take this away, don’t be so nice about it.”  

“Oh, darling. No one’s taking anything away. No one’s going anywhere. Do you remember, what happened?”

 He furrows his brow, managing to crack open his eyes, vision blurry as he looks up at Janus.

 “O-outside. S-something…” It rushes back to him, and he jolts upright, vision clearing, though his head spins. “I’m sorry! I’m s-sorry…” He trails off, falling into Janus’s open arms, somewhat surprising the naga, but he recovers quickly, cradling his head tight against him with one hand, the other supporting his back, Janus tucking his head over Remus’s shoulder, shushing softly. “I d-didn’t mean to, I d-didn’t… I’m sorry-“

 “for what, darling? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

 “I h-hit you, I almost at-acked Logan, I d-didn’t know wh-ere I was, I-“

 “Remus. You protected us. You protected me. No one is mad. No one is hurt. Everyone is safe. I promise.” He feels Remus shaking against him, feels a wet spot growing against his shirt, and he holds Remus a little tighter. “you’re not back there. You got drugged, by the assailants, whom ran off in the face of a terrifyingly pissed off human.” He hears a little gasp of laughter from Remus, and smiles, pushing back his hair. “If anyone should apologize, it’s me. I was supposed to keep you safe, and instead you got hurt for my sake. Thank you, Remus.” He whispers, a bit surprised Remus hasn’t pulled away, is clinging this tightly to him.

 “Roman’s okay?”

 “Worried out of his mind, but otherwise unscathed. We wanted to let you wake up on your own, without all of us hovering. Figured that would only scare you more.”

 “Probably a good choice. I… it got so muddled, it… what was it?”

 “I don’t remember the name. Sedatives strong enough it would have wiped any of the rest of us out for days, left us completely weak and defenseless. The local authorities have tracked them down, a small smugglers ring. Saw our group, thought we were easy targets, didn’t realize you two were humans, since they’re so rare out in the galaxies. They’re being dealt with appropriately and severely. Like we said, this planet is a frequent stop for refugees. The people here don’t take kindly to anyone threatening that.” Remus finally pulls back slightly, knees to his chest.

 “Will we ever just… be safe? Every time I get used to a routine, something happens, something bad. Routines are safe. I know what to expect, I know what’s going to happen when, there’s no anticipation or fear, because I know. Even… even before this, I knew the routine, knew that if I was quiet and good, they’d leave Roman alone. Knew that one day would be mind tests, the next would be physical experimentation, the next would be pain resistence, the next would be chemicals, I could prepare for the pain and the crash and the fall. I… what happens? What happens if this happens again? If I can’t pull back the little that I did? If something sets me off and I snap and forget and hurt all of you? What if I kill-“ He breaks off with a poorly stifled sob, and Janus rests a hand on his knee.

 “you won’t. You’re not a monster, Remus. You’re smart and brave and resilient. And you are part of our family now, you and Roman both. And we will fight for you, just as hard as you fought every day for Roman, just as hard as you fought those smugglers for me, we will fight for you, Remus. And we won’t ever, ever give up on you.” Then Remus is back in his arms, shaking with tears, and Janus finds it impossible to hold back his own. “I promise.”

…

He’s laying outside on the grass, just off the ramp that leads into the ship. The grass tickles his arms, his legs, the smell of it heady and sweet, and he closes his eyes, just breathing in a deep, huge breath.

 The sun is just starting to set, though instead of fiery oranges and pinks, the sky here is turning a deep violet and electric pink. Kinda neat, even though it does pull at his heart. He opens his eyes with a low sigh, staring up at the slowly emerging stars, the unfamiliar constellations, planets, moons. How far are they, he wonders, from Earth? He supposes Logan would know, but he’s almost afraid to ask. He’s not sure he wants to know.

 “Roman? You doing ok, kiddo?” Patton asks, sitting down on the ground near him, and he takes another deep breath in and out. “you’re crying.” Patton says, softer, and he rubs his eyes surprised as they come away wet. He hadn’t noticed.

 “I… don’t know. Just… look at this, Patton. It’s so huge. And we’re just…just carried along by its tide. Just lost in the oceans of darkness. I keep looking, for the North Star. It’s the guiding light, on Earth, it doesn’t move, points steadily North. The bottom of the Big Dipper. Or was it the Little Dipper? No, it musta been big dipper, that’s the one the slaves would use, when they escaped the south, to lead them to freedom. They had songs and stories and legends. They looked up at the sky, and had hope, looking up, that beacon leading them onwards. I’ve never had a North Star. And I keep… I keep looking for one, Patton, but I can’t find it. There’s nothing familiar or same or… I don’t know… I don’t know!” He cries, resting an arm across his forehead. “there’s so much out there. And I never thought I would ever have the chance to see any of it. We were going to die, there. We both knew it. Knew sooner or later, either on purpose or on accident, they’d do something irreparable and one of us would die. And one of us dying was just the same as both of us. But we didn’t. In the endless, vast, hugeness, somehow, we didn’t. What are the chances, of that? What are the chances, of you finding us, instead of some other humans, of finding anything at all? What… did we do, to deserve to be found? What do we even do, now? How…” he breaks off, pressing his palms against his eyes for a long moment, before tugging his hands through his hair, finally tilting his head to look at Patton. “how do we go on, without any North Star?”

 “Kiddo…” Patton exhales, reaching out his hand, leaving it palm up on the grass, an invitation, rewarded as, after a moment, Roman reaches out, placing a palm atop his, not pulling away as Patton slowly intertwines their fingers. “you didn’t have to do anything, to deserve to be found. Because you never deserved to be taken. You never, never, deserved to be hurt or terrorized in the ways that you were. You’re right, the chances of our efforts leading us to you, in the entire universe, are so, so, small. But we found you, we found you, Roman, it doesn’t matter how or why, it just matters that we did, because you and Remus deserve so much better, you deserve the universe, Roman, and I would give it to you, if I could, I would give you the cosmos. I know, it’s overwhelming, having freedoms, having choices, having the galaxies open to you, to do anything you want, I know it feels like there’s too much, and you’re drowning in choices you don’t know how to make, you don’t feel safe making, because every choice before this was a test, made for you, to hurt you. I know it’s scary. Especially after what happened today, it’s scary. But you have us, to lean on. To help you, to support you, to just… be there. And I need you to know, if you did… if someone did take you, again, if somehow something went wrong, we would never, never stop searching for you, we would never give up on finding you, until you were safe with us again. You’re part of our family, Ro. I would do anything for you. I love you.” He says softly, worrying he’s gone overboard, as he looks at Roman’s slightly stricken face.

 Then Roman moves faster than his eyes can process, throwing his arms around his neck, sobbing quietly into his shoulder. His wings flutter in surprise, then he’s wrapping his arms around Roman, his wings, blocking out the rest of the world, cradling him in soft warmth and safety, radiating out peace and love and warmth as he rubs his back, shushing him gently. “It’s ok, baby. It’ll be ok. I’ve got you.” He murmurs, feeling Roman shaking against him.

 “th-thank you, g-god, Pat, th-thank you, y-y-you’re so good, y-ou’re so… thank you.”

 “Of course, kiddo. Of course. I love you, you’re so good, too, Roman, you just have to let yourself believe it, let yourself see it. I can’t wait to see it, Roman, to see you and Remus start to believe in yourselves again, it’s going to be so beautiful.”

 They sit like that for a long time, until the stars come out, until the sun fully sets, until Patton almost thinks Roman must have fallen asleep, his breath coming in deep and steady, his heart a steady pace against his chest, Roman relaxed and melted against him, as he strokes his back, teases through his hair, he’s never seen Roman this calm, not even in sleep. So he’s surprised when Roman shifts, eyes peeking up at him, at the stars in the sky.

 “I suppose we should head inside.” Patton keeps teasing through his hair, smiling softly as Roman leans into the touch, eyes fluttering shut in pure bliss.

 “We can stay out, if you want. It won’t get too cold out here, and I stay plenty warm, no matter the weather.” Roman nods, settling back against him, letting out a huge yawn, taking in a deep breath.

 “M’kay. If you’re sure, Pat.” He murmurs, snuggling tighter against him. he chuckles, pulling his wings in tighter around the sleepy human.

 “I am, baby.”

 “Pat?”

 “yes, sweetie?” He answers, tucking his hair back.

 “love you.” He nearly cries, but manages to stifle it, not willing to risk waking Roman, who desperately needs the sleep, they both do, to heal properly. So he brushes a gentle kiss across his forehead, smile huge and eyes wet, as he watches Roman sleep soundly in his arms.

 “I do too, kiddo. So, so much.”

...

@fortheloveofjanus

#sanders sides #space au #tss #roman sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #older brother remus #protective remus #sympathetic roman #sympathetic remus #sympathetic patton #sympathetic janus #remus angst #roman angst #supportive janus #supportive patton #crying it out #angst #fluff #angst and fluff

[skia-oura]

For the Want of a (non-magical, relatively inexpensive) Bedside Table

A/N: I wrote this over the course of, like, two or three months, so be kind please.

(ao3)

________________________________________________________________

The first thing Torako did when they officially moved in was spend a solid day integrating new security wards into the ceilings, around the outside of the house where the walls joined with the roof, and along the edges of every window and doorframe. The second thing she did was enlist Dipper’s help to bring all the furniture they didn’t want or need to the recycling center, where a very nice satyr wearing a baseball cap tried to charge them an exorbitant amount of money to take care of their belongings. Dipper managed to convince him to go down, seeing as the satyr was very nice, but he refused to budge past a certain point because of what he said were “handling fees.” Torako, very cognizant of the fact that they had just paid a gross amount of money for a house, reluctantly pulled out her wallet and paid the money. Bentley was thankfully not around. Otherwise, he actually might have accepted Dipper’s deal to just get rid of it for them. Even then, when he came home and Torako showed him the receipt, his first instinct was to say, “We could have used the bedside tables anyways, you know, they weren’t that old—” “Don’t even try selling it to me, they were bad,” Torako said. “One of them fell apart when we dropped it off. Besides, now we can get new ones!” Unfortunately, as they soon rediscovered, extra-dimensional storage spaces were all the rage, and new furniture without those specs was…nonexistent, to say the least. And while Bentley could use tools and such for short periods of time with his glasses… “I guess we don’t need them?” Bentley said, blinking furiously as he set his magic-cancelling eyeglasses back on the bridge of his nose. His vision swum a little, the glimmering of magics and extra-dimensional spaces burning into phosphenes in the back of his left eyelid. Even he wasn’t ready to consider the possibility of living with something like that in the room he slept in. “We can just, I don’t know, use the floor. For now. Until we find a better solution.” Torako put one hand on her hip. In the other, she held a store tablet, on which was their virtual shopping cart. In it was one new desk chair, an old-fashioned air-drying dishrack, and approximately thirty-seven picture frames of various shapes and sizes and non-magical for the most part. He certainly wasn’t telling her that the holding pins in several of them had minor enchantments to promote longevity. They didn’t bother him too much anyways. “Unbelievable,” Torako said. She scowled at the example bedside table display before them like the pieces had offended her, personally, for the sake of offending her alone. “Terrible. What a disgrace. You can’t have a home without bedside tables! KEIA, esteemed furniture store to serve the people, should know this. And yet! Here we are!” “Esteemed?” Bentley asked, raising an eyebrow at Torako. “The furniture is good, but it’s not exactly a posh place.” “It’s better than it used to be,” Dipper said from behind them, where he was appraising floor lamps even though they didn’t need any, really, one was still functioning and the other two had found very good homes elsewhere. Bentley didn’t understand why either of them couldn’t listen to reason. “It’s still affordable, but at least they aren’t accepting illegally forested lumber from protected lands in Hungary.” “From where?” asked Bentley, twisting around to look at Dipper. “Hungary, I don’t—is this another one of those really old countries that doesn’t exist under that name any more?” Dipper nodded and hummed absentmindedly. “The faux-metal is kind of weak on this one, though, it’s probably not the best choice…” Torako ignored both of them. “I thought KEIA was a furniture store for ‘Every person, no matter who,’ but no, clearly not, not with those customization options.” “You’re telling me,” Dipper groused. He flicked the wide, elegant hood of one lamp and made a disgruntled noise. “They wouldn’t let me custom-build furniture for Toby that included the Nightmare Sheep because the sheep were ‘clearly demonic’ and it ‘went against company guidelines for appropriate alterations.’ Sucks to be them, though, because I just did it myself, and you know what? Toby loved it. So did the sheep, actually; they wouldn’t stop hounding me about being included in future pieces.” Bentley, half-turned around, saw an older man frown in their direction. “Uh,” he said, “You mean, Tyrone, you did it with your excellent carving skills, and only because KEIA wouldn’t honor your creative differences, and the sheep were part of a dream and okay that’s enough let’s go home, clearly we aren’t finding anything here.” They didn’t get anything at KEIA. In fact, they didn’t even get anything moved into the new house at first, because Torako was seized by the mad idea that if they were going to make this house their own, they needed to redecorate all the walls first. Bentley stared at her, blank-faced in the middle of the night when she came to this realization, before she sheepishly tucked him back in and said that they could talk about it after he came back from work the next day.

Upon doing so, he was hustled to the new house by Torako and Dipper, who had procured paint and paintbrushes courtesy of Dipper’s house in the nightmare realm. Bentley looked at the paint cans, set down in the middle of a thin but sturdy tarp covering the entirety of the house floors (it glimmered, just a little, to his uncovered left eye), and pursed his lips. “Um,” he said, pointing at one which—while new-looking, was covered in an archaic form of English that made his head hurt to try to decipher—“does that say, by chance, that it expires in May of 2152?” Dipper hummed and lifted the can in question. “Close, that actually says March.” Even Torako, whose judgment was not always to be trusted on these matters, squinted at the paint can. Distrust crinkled into the corners of her eyes. “But he got the year right?” “Yeah, 2152. Not that long ago, I’m sure it’ll be fine! It was in the Nightmare Realm anyways. That place preserves stuff like nothing else.” “Dipper,” Bentley said. He tried to ignore the one paint tin he couldn’t make heads or tails of. He suspected it was in an entirely different language from any that currently existed. “Saying things like ‘oh, it was in the nightmare realm’ doesn’t exactly instill a sense of relief in me.” Dipper stuck out his tongue. Torako set down the pthalo green she was holding. “I hate to ask,” she said, “But will there be any bad…side effects from using this paint? Is it—is it even up to modern code?” “Ah,” Dipper said. He went slightly cross-eyed. Golden ichor brimmed up from under his eyes until they overflowed, trickling sluggishly over the slight swell of his cheeks. A scent not dissimilar to smoldering peat rose faint into the air. Bentley felt the hair on the back of his neck and along his arms rise on end. Torako shifted her weight as Dipper’s hair rose in a wind that affected him alone. They waited. Moments later, he blinked. His hair fell back to its normal flouncy poofiness. “Oh wow, gross,” he said, and used his gloved claws to wipe away the golden—blood tears?—from off his cheeks and out of his eyes. His nose curled up. “That’s a sensation—hey, wanna feel it? It’s a wild texture.” “Haha, no thanks, I’ll pass,” said Torako, who had learned many things since having her arm accidentally broken when they were college babies. “Anyways—did you find out if the paint was up to modern code?” “Um, so the can you’re holding is fine, and so is 2152! They hadn’t tried to introduce petrichorite to paint, yet. By the way, petrichorite is in Baby Mint #295 from 2799, so we should figure out how to dispose of that—but not with Tad, because he charged us an arm and a leg for our trash last time.” Torako’s brow furrowed. “Tad—do you mean Felix, the satyr at the recycling center? Where we dropped off those bedside tables that were in very bad condition?” Bentley ignored her side-eye-accompanied pointed comment, put his hands on his hips and counted the paint cans in front of them. “So, back on topic—out of the twenty-three paint cans here, which ones aren’t viable?” In the end, they pulled eight cans that would guarantee nasty side-effects from the collection, then the colors ‘Purple Olive’ and ‘Peat Moss’ because they weren’t personal favorites. Bentley took Torako’s pthalo green and a container each of black, gold, and what Dipper assured him was a ‘non-haunted glow-in-the-dark white’ to the bedroom while Dipper and Torako haggled over whether to use a deep red or an ultramarine as the accent wall color in the living room. Bentley set down the paint cans, then retrieved and prepared brushes of varying sizes and widths. He had to pop open the lid of the pthalo green with the end of one paintbrush, but the others opened easy enough when he pressed and held his thumbs to the (antiquated) locking systems on opposite sides of the rim. The somewhat suffocating smell of paint was quick to fill the room, and it drove him to opening a window. It had started drizzling, actually. Bentley stood there a moment and let the fresh rainwater air waft in, hands flat against the sill, head against the bottom edge of the frame he’d just moved out of the way. If he closed his eyes and just listened, he could hear the light tapping of rain against the leaves of the Sweetbay Mongolia tree growing only a few meters away. He took a deep breath, then ducked back inside. Time passed. Three of the walls were slowly painted in the pthalo green. Between coats of that color, he worked on covering the ceiling, the trimmings, and the wall across from the door with black, glasses on and a PaintKnight shield over his head to keep the worst of the paint off his face and clothes. He rolled the paint on until his shoulders ached and he couldn’t quite get the wet sound of the roller out of his head, even when he paused to work out the kinks in his arms. The rain outside dropped heavier, echoing against the roof and in through the open windows in a way that settled something in Bentley. Eventually, he finished the final coat of black on the ceiling. Setting down the roller across the paint well, Bentley set his hands on his hips and arched his back. His spine popped and cracked a little. He winced, then leaned forward to touch his toes. There was a knock at the door before it slid open into the wall. “Hey, Bentley. Dips and I were thinking of finishing for the day.” Bentley straightened up from his stretch slowly, arching a little past the twinge in his lower back. He blinked at Torako, then asked, “Did any paint actually get on the walls, or did you plaster it all over each other?” “Harr harr harr,” Torako said. She pouted at him, face almost entirely red from what Bentley assumed from the texture was a paint roller. Her bangs on the left side were clumped together and spiking up a little. “So funny, Bentley. Yes, we managed to get the living room done, though I still think that the ultramarine would have looked better.” “We can touch up the bathroom with it,” Bentley said. He bent down to pick up the roller. “So we clean up and start making dinner back at the apartment?” Torako wrinkled her nose. “I guess we have to wait a day for the paint to dry before moving anything in, don’t we.” “And I’m not done,” Bentley said. He twisted the handheld portion of the roller off so that it would be easier to carry. Paint-smell wafted up and overwhelmed the clear scent of rain from outside. “So the earliest we could be in here would be the day after tomorrow—honestly, though, we should plan on a week.” A rustle of cloth; Bentley turned his head to catch Dipper sticking his very colorful fingers down the side of Torako’s neck. She squealed, then cocked her elbow and slammed it into Dipper’s gut. Bentley laughed at the expressions on both of their faces. “Could be worse,” Dipper wheezed, even though he didn’t actually need the air. What a drama king, Bentley thought to himself. “It used to take like, a week to safely dry, not just a day.” “Still,” Torako said. She put her fingers to the paint smeared across her neck and scrunched her nose up at the sensation. “It’s a long time, now that we finally own the house. Nothing else is stopping us from moving in and it makes me itch. ” “Well,” Bentley said, pointing the still-black roller at her and grinning a little to take the bite out of his words, “the end is at least in sight, now.” She stuck out her tongue at him, then gacked when the dark red smeared on her lips came in contact with it. “Uuuugghhhhh, ewwww,” she said, and disappeared to the bathroom to the sound of Dipper cackling. Bentley raised his eyebrow at Dipper. Dipper looked back at him. They both shared a grin, shook hands, and Dipper made off with Bentley’s freely-given roller still saturated with black paint. Bentley looked down at the non-haunted glow-in-the-dark white and the ‘Guaranteed to Glimmer!’ gold. He remembered that he still had some old brushes back in his desk at the apartment. Torako screeched, and then Dipper did, their voices echoing through the mostly-empty house in a way that filled it. Bentley thought about what they would best like for dinner tonight. He turned, closed the window, and brought the trays out of the room to wash them. As he paused to try to remember where the bathroom was, he was smacked in the face with the very roller he’d just lent to Dipper for nefarious purposes, and well, that just meant that payback was due, right? They ended up ordering pizza. - Bentley had an early shift the next day so that he could be home in time for lunch at one. He’d dragged himself through about three hours of work on nightmare-riddled sleep before Karl Svinhish took one look at him and made Bentley sleep in the break room for ninety minutes. Even then, once Bentley woke up, he sent Bentley packing home with orders to ‘not try to explode us all through lack of sleep, don’t worry, we’re still paying you.’ Once back in the apartment, Bentley managed to crash on their (unfortunately, permanently magical) couch for a couple hours before he woke up from fear-anxiety-pain. In all, he managed to eat, pack up, and be out to the house by about 1:30. With Dipper out visiting somebody he vaguely knew in Europe, and with Torako having snagged a small case in the area to find a missing cat, he was alone. If he’d been alone in that apartment, it would have been one terrible thing. Being alone in the house—where the wards were freshly installed, the layout was completely different, and the only items that really glimmered to his left eye were temporary parts of their life—was another thing entirely. After he opened the window, Bentley slid on his glasses, activated the PaintKnight shield, and flipped through the music in his phone before settling on Comeback Kid’s Greatest Hits. Torako had introduced him to them, ages ago when they were both fourteen and not-studying in Bentley’s room. It seemed fitting, considering that he was going to paint parts of his childhood bedroom into this place. He lay back on the EZ-Liftr Lite they’d rented from a nearby library and thumbed at the controls until he was comfortably near the ceiling. After a moment of contemplation, he angled himself just a little bit up. Pulling a brush out of his apron pocket, he slid it into the glow-in-the-dark white and began to paint. It had been so long that the first stars turned out a little lopsided, edges a bit wonky where he still struggled to re-adjust to painting with a brush. The angle didn’t help; any time he’d painted in the past, it was either upright on a canvas or flat on a desk, not several meters above the ground and on his back. So they were a bit odd, bigger than he’d initially planned as he tried to mask the mistakes, less neat than he knew he was capable of. It would have frustrated him to tears just months ago. It still kind of did. But now, he breathed through the frustration and settled himself with the knowledge that he would adjust—it would just take time. It was a not-bad day, so the reminder worked. It was around the fourth song that things started to finally click. Using an extra-long paintbrush handle to steady his painting hand, Bentley drew a small seven-pronged star to the brassy trumpets of Comeback Kid’s “Horse in a Hospital” and didn’t wobble at all. His lines were clean and clear, the shape was even, and filling it in wasn’t nearly the exercise in concentration that the first few had been. Outlining in gold was just as easy. Bentley smiled a little to himself, refilled the brush, and continued. Over time, the light coming in from the bedroom windows shifted into the deeper warmer tones of evening, shadows from the overgrown garden stretching further into the room as it set. The bedroom was set on the north-western side of the house, just enough to be warmed in the evening without facing the glare of the sun head-on. Bentley sighed, stretched over the back of the EZ-Liftr Lite, and almost fell off when the door slid open. Thankfully, it was only Torako. Unfortunately, she had noticed. “Haha, got you and I wasn’t even trying,” she said, grinning. She had twigs in her hair and a couple scrapes on her face. “And hot damn you’ve been busy—wait, is that Comeback Kid? Talk about nostalgic.” “That’s a lot all at once,” Bentley said, shifting the EZ-Liftr Lite so that he wasn’t halfway to a concussion via headfirst fall to the floor. “And I don’t know what you’re talking about, nobody got me at anything.” Torako snorted and entered the room to better peer at the corner Bentley was working on. He only had a little more to go before the ceiling was done, but then there was the rest of the detailing. “Keep deluding yourself, I know the truth. And that is Comeback Kid! Wait wait wait—is this ‘Mr. Bittenbinder’? It’s gotta be ‘Mr. Bittenbinder.’ Is this the top tracks playlist?”   “Yes,” Bentley said. He turned his attention to the current space ahead of him, hummed, then added a few more dots in aesthetically pleasing places. “Why?” Torako flicked a finger at his socked foot. Bentley twitched it back before scowling down at her. She grinned, unapologetic. “It’s been ages. Like, since high school.” “You listened plenty in college, I remember you blasting it whenever I brought you stuff in the gym,” Bentley said. He pointed the paintbrush in his hand at her—gold, just enough left in the bristles that he could leave a mark if he wanted to. “But yeah, I was thinking about home. With—Dad.” “Oh,” Torako said. Her face softened. “Yeah, now that you say it, I can see the similarity to your bedroom. Back then, I mean.” He smiled at her, then turned his attention back to the ceiling. After a few strokes, a few quiet moments filled with the discordant keys of “Mr. Bittenbinder,” Bentley let out an ‘ah’ as he came to a realization. “If you—sorry for taking over things and making this my childhood—I mean, you had a childhood bedroom too, you know, and—” “Aw, lighten up, buddy,” Torako said. She patted his leg. “I’m not angry or upset or anything. Your bedroom was cool. Just let me put up some old hurling photos or stash my stick on the wall as some kind of deco and it’ll bring enough of me in. I like the stars, anyways. It’ll be nice to have them up at night.” Bentley reached over with his free hand and ruffled her hair. A couple twigs and half of a leaf were dislodged and fell to the ground. “Thanks,” he said. He thought a moment. “What about Dipper?” “We’ll see if he has anything he wants here in particular that aren’t too, you know. It’ll work out. It’ll be all of ours,” she said. Then, tilting her head so his hand was more on her forehead than in her hair (and how odd it was for her to be looking up at him), she grinned. “Need any help painting?” “Uh,” Bentley said. The memory of their college fridge, covered in drawings of Korato and Alcor, flashed through his mind. “I, uh, that’s very nice of you but, how do I say it—” “Your drawings suck,” Dipper said from over Bentley’s shoulder. Even feeling him tesser in wasn’t enough to stop Bentley from startling. This time, it took both Dipper and Torako reaching in to steady the Liftr and pushing him back onto it in order to keep Bentley from falling off. His glasses were still knocked askew from the jostling. “Look what you did!" Torako said, wiggling her index and middle fingers together at Dipper, mock scowl on her face. “You nearly made him fall—what if he’d hit his head?” “Even if he had fallen, he would’ve been fine,” Dipper said. He narrowed his eyes at her fingers. Bentley nudged his glasses back into place. In the background, “Mr. Bittenbinder” finally drew to its eight-minute close. “I would have caught him. You’re just mad that I said you suck at drawing.” Torako rolled her eyes. “I know I suck, I just thought I’d lighten the mood, you doofus. Anyways—the reason I came in here in the first place was to see if Bentley wanted dinner. It’s a bit early, but I’m hungry and we’ve all been working hard today. How was whosit over in Europe?” “Oh, Olla?” Dipper flipped upside down and drew his legs together, criss-crossed, as the song track changed to “Then I Didn’t”. His gaze remained fixed on Torako’s outstretched fingers. “She’s doing great, working hard at school and all that. Had to skedaddle before her mom came home and ripped me apart, but it was a good visit overall.” “Rip you apart?” Bentley said. He lifted his brush and picked up where he left off painting. “If she can do that, I think you’ve lost your position as most powerful being in existence.” “Did he have it in the first pla—ow, what the fuck Dipper, my fingers!” “Serves you right,” Dipper said. His voice crackled with half-realized laughter. “Stick your fingers in my face and get bit.” “I’ll bite you, you little—” Dipper’s voice got all low and purr-y. Some half-forgotten instinct in Bentley tensed. “Where you gonna bite me huh, sugar?” There was a pause. Bentley pulled his paintbrush away from the ceiling. Not a second later, Torako said, “Where you want me to bite, honey? Here, or here, or…here?” “If I look down,” Bentley said, “and you two are playing het chicken in front of me, at this moment in time, while I have paint and you don’t, we are going to have yesterday happen again except I am going to win. Hands-down. I will decimate you.” Bentley gave them three seconds before he looked down. When he did, they were staring up at him, Torako’s outstretched finger brushing against one of Dipper’s collarbones, his shirt collar unbuttoned just enough to give her access. They blinked—at the same time, eerily enough at the exact time Jonathan from The Comeback Kid crooned after a long piano solo, ‘Oh, but I couldn’t, I just couldn’t stop myself, the pages were calling but the party’s calling louder…’ He pointed his paintbrush at them. “Don’t.” Torako laughed, and what tension there was in the room dissipated. She papped Dipper’s cheek, looking into his eyes, and said, “Well, looks like we’ll have to save this for another time. His Majesty commands us.” “Well, if it’s His Majesty’s edict…” Dipper grinned and swung himself back upright to lay on thin air, his chin propped on an open palm. “Would you also like food, your Majesty? We could go back and get it started while you finish here.” Bentley narrowed his eyes. “This is a very sudden change of topic.” “True,” Torako agreed. “But it’s like, five, and if we divide and conquer, we can get stuff done. I’ll paint tomorrow, and I’m sure Dipper could get a room done right now if we throw him a bag of Peach Wheels.” “Make it a bag of Peach Wheels and a TimTom Bar, and we have a deal,” Dipper said. Without looking, Torako slid her hand out. “Kitchen in royal blue with gold trim and switch out the cabinets and countertops for that Eggshell White we saw in HomeReno Catalogue #539 Issue twenty…three, yeah, sure, deal.” “Ugh, fine,” Dipper said. There was a flash of blue flames. He frowned and patted his stomach. His stomach. Bentley’s turned at the thought, cold nothingness tickling at the back of his mind before he bit at the side of his mouth to bring his attention back into the present. “—hard bargain, now. When did you even learn that trick? Tacking on specifics in the seconds you go for the handshake.” “I live with you, dumbass,” Torako said. She ruffled his hair and ignored the way Dipper hissed and patted it back into place. “Also, I have a degree in this shit. Practice makes perfect—anyways, Dipper, Bentley, how do we feel about fried rice tonight? Lettuce wraps?” “Sounds good,” Bentley said. He pushed the thought of—that—out of mind and resolved to bring it up with his therapist the next time they met. Lifting his paintbrush back up, he added, “I’ll try to be back by six or six-thirty, okay?” Torako nodded. “Call us when you leave, okay? And if anything happens on the way back, it doesn’t matter who’s around, just summon Dips—” Bentley paused, turned his head, and stared at Torako. “I’m not going to summon Alcor the Dreambender in the middle of the street,” he said. “Ok,” Torako said. “Just—be careful, okay?” “Yeah, I promise,” Bentley said. It was easy to—the streets were well lit, and it would be early enough when he left that anybody involved in Norfolk’s relatively low crime rate was unlikely to be active. Also, Fantino was dead and nobody else had any hare-brained ideas about Bentley being a Mizar or something like that. Torako grinned. It was a little strained. Bentley narrowed his eyes when he remembered that Torako still hadn’t started looking for a therapist they could all bully into signing a ridiculous NDA. Bentley still thought that Dr. Anikulapo-Kuti would be a good fit, but Torako kept avoiding the topic. He sighed, then reached out his hand. “Nothing is going to happen,” he said, threading his fingers through her hair. “And if it does, I’ll be prepared. I promise.” “Yeah,” Dipper said. He patted her shoulders with both hands and hooked his chin over one of them. “Ben’s tough, he can take care of himself—and just in case anything does happen, I’ll keep an extra close eye on the bond, okay? Torako closed her eyes. She tipped her head to rest against Dipper’s. “Yeah,” she said. “You’re right.” “Besides,” Dipper said, giving Bentley a sly look before tilting his head to whisper in her ear. She grinned and giggled a little, eyes cutting over to Dipper and then to Bentley and back again. Bentley’s suspicions resurfaced. He narrowed his eyes. From his phone on the ground, the ‘15% battery left’ alarm chirped a whistly little tune over the final stanza of “Then I Didn’t”. “You want me to pass you your phone so you can charge it?” Torako asked, already leaning over to pick the phone up from off the ground. The sound quality wobbled a bit as the speakers adjusted from reverbing off a solid surface and to sounding through the open air. “Sure,” Bentley said, switching his brush to the opposite hand so that he could receive the phone more easily. He held his hand out and wiggled his fingers. Dipper threaded his fingers through Bentley’s. “Um,” Bentley said. He blinked across at Dipper. “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but I was actually going for my phone?” Dipper grinned, wide and a little soft. “I know,” he said. “That’s why I did it.” Then, Torako jammed his cold phone down the front of his sweater. Bentley yelped, jerked, and they all went down in a tangle of limbs. Somehow Bentley managed to be sandwiched between Dipper and Torako, whose arm was still stuck down his sweater. “Torako!” Bentley screeched, his hand still comfortably in Dipper’s. They both burst into cackles, one cut through with bursts of static, the other clear and resounding. Bentley scowled up at Torako and the line of gold that slid wet down the curve of her cheek. Seconds later, a grin fought its way past the façade and he couldn’t help but laugh along. This really could be home, he thought. - “I can’t stand it,” Torako groaned from where she was sprawled face-down on the floor. “I can’t do it, Bentley.” “Yes you can,” he said from his seat at the kitchen table that they had found in an antique store. It was a little inconvenient in that it didn’t have functions to store and consequently automatically drape tablecloths, but it also wasn’t an eyesore first thing in the morning without his glasses, so everybody considered it a win. “Bentley, it’s not a proper home yet,” she said into the floorboards. Dipper rolled his eyes and sipped at the overly sweetened coffee he’d exchanged for dragging Torako from where she’d been languishing on the bed. “Torako, we don’t even have a couch yet,” Bentley said. “Or mirrors other than the one in the bathroom. How do bedside tables even make a home in the first place?” “It’s a place to put all your stuff,” Torako said. “That you need when you’re sleeping but don’t want to get up to get and I’ve fallen out of bed five times this week reaching for my water bottle.” “I keep saying that I have furniture at my house,” Dipper said. Bentley eyed the scratches in the rim of the mug—even after millennia of being a demon, Dipper kept forgetting to watch his teeth around the dishware. “But you guys are all nooo, what if it’s haunted, nooo, what if the demonic energy, nooooooo.” “I had enough problems dealing with your ambient energy affecting things like security sensors when I first started working at the company,” Bentley drawled, hands curled around his own cup of tea. “And now? With this incomprehensible body? I don’t need even more exposure. Besides, everything we’ve vetted hasn’t passed Torako’s ‘Bentley Safe’ test.” “Except the coffee table,” Dipper pointed out. “Except the coffee table,” Bentley ceded. It was the ugliest coffee table he’d seen, but it was solid wood and was void of any enchantments or extra tech, unlike everything else they had been able to find. Any demonic energy that had lingered on it had dissipated in hours without a supernatural handhold.   “Unfortunately,” Torako groaned, “Bentley makes sense. I hate it, but Bentley makes sense. Bentley, stop making sense. I want bedside tables.” Dipper sipped at his coffee extra loud. Bentley raised his eyebrows in Torako’s direction, even if she couldn’t see them. “Well,” he said. “I seem to recall that we did have bedside tables that weren’t very magical except around the hinges, and you could barely see those anyways. I wonder what happened to them?” Torako groaned extra loud. She turned her head just so that she could glare at him past the hair in her face. “One of them fell apart when we dropped it off,” Torako said. “Like, legitimately, we put it down and it collapsed.” “But you could have had one,” Dipper pointed out. He drummed his claws against the tabletop. Bentley squinted at the little pricks that started forming in the surface and realized that he was going to have to figure out how to non-magically reinforce the surface. Somehow, he didn’t think that Dipper would react well to claw-caps. “Then just Bentley would have to suffer.” “And I’m okay with that,” Bentley said, still staring at the claw dents. There was a pause. Bentley blinked, then registered what he said and started waving his hands. “Wait—no, I meant, like, I don’t mind not having a bedside table for a little longer, Torako’s the one who keeps falling out of bed, not me, she needs the table, it’s not that—” “Hey,” Dipper said, frowning. He reached over and slid his hand over Bentley’s, eyebrows serious over his dark eyes. “Being the masochist is my job.” After a beat, Torako burst into laughter. Bentley considered the ramifications of threatening Dipper bodily harm, and dismissed them very quickly on the grounds of ‘this will never end if I do.’ “Anyways,” Bentley said in a voice just loud enough to be clearly heard over Torako’s giggling, “We’ll figure out the bedside table thing. In the meantime, Torako, you could always take one of the chairs and use it.” His chair shuddered a little and there was a smacking noise. Bentley looked down to see Torako’s hand wrapped around the chair leg, her hair tangled between her eyes. “This chair?” she asked. Then she looked at Dipper and wheezed. “I think I don’t need to answer that,” Bentley said. “Why do you keep laughing, anyways? It wasn’t even that funny?” “Rude,” Dipper said. “Is…” Torako choked out. “Is because he—oh gosh, he’s unemployed, Bentley!” Dipper scowled at her. “Am too employed,” he said. “As a maSOCHIST!” Torako screeched out the last word and started smacking her feet against the ground and howling in laughter. Then she squealed when Dipper leapt over the table (and Bentley) to get at her. Bentley shifted his teacup in his hands and felt himself settle further. His phone pinged a notification as Torako and Dipper began to actually wrestle on the floor. He took one look at the phone, winced a little at how sparkly it was, and slid his glasses on to check the notification. At first, it didn’t make sense. He couldn’t remember having any business with Celestial Spaces Storage Services. That branch didn’t even exist out in Norfolk, that was strictly a Federation thing. The only ties he had there were Torako’s parents and his dad’s urn in the City Ancestral Home. The apartment had long been leased to…wait. The apartment. Bentley opened the message. Dear Customer, We hope this message finds you well. We write to inform you that your lease on Unit 4968 is set to expire approximately one month from now, on October 24th, 4042. Please indicate to us whether or not you would like to renew your lease or change the terms. We are accessible by phone, message, or in person at the facility you rented space from. Thank you for your time, L’lanee Etchen Celestial Spaces Storage Services “Oh,” he said out loud. In his bare hands, the battery ticked up from 88% to 89%. “I forgot.” “Forgot what?” Dipper asked. Bentley looked up from his phone to see him laying on the floor, Torako’s heel in the small of his back and both his arms wrenched up and behind him. Bentley winced at the thought of him in that position, but of course Dipper was nonplussed. His wings were relaxed and everything. Torako, on the other hand, was panting a little, cheeks dark and hair even wilder than it already had been. “Forgot what?” she asked. “How awesome I am at wrestling?” “Dad’s…stuff,” he said. Torako blinked and let go of Dipper’s wrists. “The stuff from our apartment, the lease on storage is expiring.” “Oh,” said Torako. She sat down on Dipper’s back. He let out a soft whoof of air that was more for fun than because Torako was pressing down on his non-existent lungs. “I forgot too.” Dipper reached back and jabbed at Torako’s sides until she squirmed far enough off of him that he could sit up. “It sounds familiar,” he said, peering up at Bentley from where he was nestled under Torako’s chin. “What do you want to do, then? For the right price, I can always blip it all here.” Bentley opened his mouth to refuse. Then he closed it, tapped his forefingers against the face of the still-warm teacup, and considered Dipper. “Our living room is pretty empty,” he said. “No sofa or bookshelves yet. All our stuff there is still in boxes.” “And it would be very economical,” Dipper wheedled. There was a glint in his eye that never failed to set some very deep, animal part of Bentley’s brain on edge. He was good at pushing past it by now, though. “In one sense of the word,” Bentley said. He pulled one hand off his teacup and set his chin in the heart of his palm. “But what would you want in exchange for this little chore?” Torako lifted an eyebrow. Her eyes flicked momentarily down to Dipper before she met Bentley’s eyes again. Bentley closed his eyes and shook his head a little; he could handle a deal like this. Alcor intertwined his fingers together in such a way that only his index fingers were free, flush against each other as he pressed the tips of them to his chin. He suddenly had gloves on. “Good question,” he said. The reverb in his voice had grown stronger, a little deeper. He sounded like he knew the answers to all your questions, had the power to fulfill every desire you had, and would never sink his fingers into your chest to pull out your soul. Not that, you know, that part actually mattered to Bentley, what with his soul not even being his to begin with. Dipper’s actual sister had given it up millennia ago.   Bentley hummed. “I agree, it was,” he said. “So what would you say is a fair price?” Alcor’s face was relaxed even as he draped an arm over Torako’s bent knee. “Usually I’d ask for a couple of teeth, an eye, maybe your left pinky—something noticeable for all these priceless, sentimental items I’d have to transport out of an extra-dimensional plane into this very well warded house. But it’s your lucky day! For you and just you, I’ll do it for the low, low price of one treasured memory of your father!” Bentley swallowed and tried to not let the grief well back up. He closed his eyes, considered the deal for half a second, and then dismissed it completely. Memories with his dad were priceless. He wasn’t going to be able to make any new ones. “Dipper, what the fuck,” Torako said. Bentley opened his eyes to see her leaning back a bit. Dipper flinched, and something about his face shifted. He leaned forward, towards Bentley, his cheeks softening to something less twenty-five and more sixteen. “Bentley, I—” “You’re right,” Bentley said. He looked Dipper right in his wide, childish eyes. “That is a lot of work. It wouldn’t be fair to ask you for something so big you can’t resist crossing lines.” “I shouldn’t have asked anyways,” Dipper said. He twined his fingers together and worried them against each other. “That was wrong, I know it was wrong and I did it anyways because it was right there and it seemed—it was just. Tempting.” “I understand,” said Bentley. He rubbed at his temples. “I’ll call the company and ask what it would cost to ship everything here.” “That would be so expensive,” Torako said. She leaned back forward, smoothed her hands over Dippers, and tucked his head under her chin again. It was easier than it had been before. “The Federation is so far, and then there’s customs to go through, and we’d have to choose an option that didn’t rely on shipping things with exdim spaces.” Bentley inhaled and then exhaled, deep. “I’ll call the company,” he said, again. That night, Torako dragged a chair from the dining room and set it up by her side of the bed. She still, somehow, managed to fall out by reaching out too far for her water bottle. - What ended up happening was this: Bentley called the company to extend the lease. Then he called the company again, after a couple days of first arguing and then discussing the details with Torako, to ask if actually they could arrange a video tour of everything in the unit. After the company explained that they didn’t have the time or resources to devote to that (which was utter bull, but Bentley wasn’t willing to shell money out for the Perk Plan Copper Edition), Torako took time to physically travel to them, visited her parents, and used her phone to show Bentley around the place. It was nostalgic, but the level of magical interference was faintly visible even through the screen and his glasses. Bentley was glad that he let Torako argue him out of going himself. When he made soft eyes at the long, old dresser from his father’s bedroom, Torako slapped a ‘removal’ sticker on it without hesitation (“We can put it in the living room or by the entrance or whatever, there’s definitely a place for it somewhere!”). When Torako started cackling over the ugliest coat rack in existence, awkwardly heavy and brassy at the ends of each hook, Bentley didn’t protest too much over her demands to bring it back (“It’ll go with that awful coffee table Dips brought back, I love it so much.”) When Dipper showed up halfway through the call and interrupted their discussion over the merits of bringing or leaving the sofa with its simple seat-warming enchantments, Bentley cackled at Torako’s initial screech of surprise and then Dipper’s squawk as she wrestled him down to ruffle his hair (“Sea’s mercy, don’t sneak up on me like that—say, what do you think about this couch, it’s got enchantments but I think my dads can hook me up with somebody who can strip it off…”) When discussion turned to a possible matching (mostly) set of lamps that Dipper had stashed somewhere, Bentley set his chin on his hand and watched his family go back and forth about logistics and re-wiring and oh, wasn’t that a really nice bookshelf, wouldn’t that look good in the house too. In the end, they found nearly everything they wanted, arranged to have the whole lot of it shipped by non-magical means (paid for by Torako’s dads, who were apparently side-eyeing Dipper with less fear and apprehension than they had initially), and came home. It would take a month for everything to arrive but until then— “It’s come to this,” Torako said, laced fingers under her nose, elbows set to the sides of her empty dinner plate. “We need to search harder than ever for the final, most vital piece of our home.” “The bedside tables?” Dipper asked sullenly. He scowled down at the vibrant claw tips Torako had slipped on him while he was napping earlier. “You don’t deserve them, you heathen.” “Even heathens deserve bedside tables,” Torako countered, eyes bright with something Bentley couldn’t name. “It’s a basic right of Personhood.” “You violated my Personhood,” Dipper hissed, eyes narrowed in mock-betrayal as he wiggled his capped claws at her. “You don’t deserve a bedside table. Besides, I don’t even get a bedside table, so why should you?” “I keep telling you,” Bentley said after taking a sip of his water, “if you want a shelf above the bed, we can put one up there for things you wanted to put up there that weren’t, like, eyeballs or the shriveled dismembered fingers of that one dude who tried to enslave you when you were a baby demon.” “I also veto the cursed paperweight that croons the regretful thoughts of all office workers ever into your dreams,” Torako said with a shudder. “For more than just the fact that it might be a pain to Bentley. It’s just super, super disturbing.” “You have no taste,” Dipper sniffed. He gnawed a little at the rubber claw caps and then made a face. “Also, these are disgusting.” Bentley couldn’t stop himself from laughing a little. He avoided Dipper’s wide betrayed eyes and looked out the kitchen window instead. It faced the front, where there was a little pathway leading up to the house and there was a stone wall that was covered with aesthetically pleasing moss. Dipper had said it was installed a couple centuries ago, when everybody had their ‘ye olde cottage in the woods’ phase. Bentley liked it, at least. He watched as a small songbird, dark brown back over light brown belly interrupted by a dull crest of yellow, fluttered down to perch on top of it. It cocked its head this way and that, then trilled out a few notes. “Sucks to be you; you keep putting holes in our super hard-to-find dining table, we take preventative measures,” Torako said. Outside, the bird hopped forward a couple steps. “Could have just told me,” Dipper groused. “Woulda stopped.” “Not nearly as much fun,” Torako said. “Now—the bedside tables. The Quest to end all Quests. The most honorable, invaluable, unbelievably necessary endeavor yet on our long journey towards houseownership.” The songbird pecked down once, twice, and picked up a twig. Bentley watched it fly off with its prize. Weird, he thought, that a bird might make its nest in fall. He blinked. “Why not make our own bedside tables?” When he turned to look at them again, Torako was blinking in mild confusion. Dipper had stopped chewing at the rubber caps that he could absolutely take off himself but didn’t for whatever reason. “I thought you didn’t have power tools?” Bentley frowned. “Power tools? I’m not going to…I don’t have any magical tools, remember? We got rid of everything overly magical.” Even the wards could have been a pain to deal with if Torako hadn’t researched and then integrated the time-consuming, archaic, and possibly illegal additions that rendered the wards magical signature null. Dipper sighed. “Mechanical saws that go buzzity buzz through wood and stuff to make it the size you want. Or things to screw in screws without agitating your wrist. Machines.” “Oh,” Bentley said. “Yeah, Tristools. The library has a workshop; we could find the right materials and make our own with their resident Carpenter?” Without warning, Torako stood up and slammed the table. The dishes clanged and clattered as they were jostled, and Bentley only barely saved his water from spilling everywhere. Dipper screeched, his hair fluffing up and out in momentary alarm. “Bentley!” Torako yelled. “You’re a genius.” Bentley blinked at her rapidly. His fingers curled around his glass protectively. “I…thank you? I guess?” “I am going to make,” Torako said, a terrifying grin on her face, “the biggest, baddest, most amazing bedside tables ever.” “Oh,” Bentley said. He tugged the glass closer, as if he could stop Torako’s enthusiasm from bubbling over and making everything more complicated than any of them could handle just by protecting his water. “Oh, no, Torako, we just need—we just need function. We just need something we can put things like pain medication in and water bottles on.” “That’s boring,” Dipper said. He was floating off his chair, a matching grin on his face. “And we’re not boring, we need exciting furniture. Personalized furniture. Furniture with as many non-magical bells and whistles as we can manage.” Neither of them, as far as Bentley knew, had built anything in their lives. Dipper tended towards destruction anyways—and thinking of Torako’s several collisions with opposing hurling players that ended in somebody with fractured ribs or concussions or, in one memorable case, a flattened nose that needed emergency on-site reconstruction, so did Torako. “Guys,” he said weakly. “Think—manageable projects?” “I want a carved dragon in mine,” Torako said. Then she gasped. “No, wait—Korato holding Alcor in her arms as they’re flying off on a carved dragon—oh I have to write everything down.” “Mine is going to have so many hidden drawers,” Dipper said, in spite of the fact that he wasn’t going to use a bedroom table. “So many traps to dissuade thieving fingers. You won’t be able to open anything without first solving the initial puzzle lock. I can’t wait, I have so many ideas.” “Just…a drawer?” Bentley offered out, loudly so that Torako could hear him from where she had burst into the master bedroom. “Maybe a couple shelves? A flat surface? Maybe a fancy handle for the drawer if they have them?” “It’s gonna be A WORK OF ART,” screeched Torako from across the house. Dipper had dissolved into muttering about which traps and tricks would be best for its size, and they could mount it on the wall so it could have a secret bottom that held all the best things. Bentley looked down at his water, and could only think about the poor resident Carpenter who would be dealing with them all. - “I’m so sorry,” he said to Mx. Tchaikovsky, resident Carpenter at their nearest expanded Library, as zi looked first at their plans, then at the materials they had sourced and brought with them. Zir nameplate, which displayed zir name and pronouns, fritzed a couple times before steadying out. “I tried to talk them out of it, but…” Mx. Tchaikovsky looked at him. Then, zi grinned wide and said, “Are you kidding? These are the greatest things I’ve ever seen!” Behind Mx. Tchaikovsky’s back, Torako and Dipper high-fived each other. Bentley made the mistake of making incredulous eye contact with them. In response, Dipper put his thumb on his nose, crossed his eyes, and wiggled his fingers at Bentley. The gesture was unfamiliar; the childish, gloating triumph on his face was not. “I…” Bentley said, slowly, “I thought that they would be too…complicated for our skill level. Those two, at least,” He said, tapping the plans that he knew weren’t his. “Oh, for sure,” Mx. Tchaikovsky said. Zi half-turned to Torako and Dipper, and asked, “You two don’t have any carpentry experience, do you?” Dipper opened his mouth. “I made a custom bedroom set for my—for a child, once,” he said. Bentley, who had not seen Dipper do anything without using supernatural powers ever, widened his eyes at him. Dipper clearly saw, but elected to say nothing. “Oh wow,” Mx. Tchaikovsky said. “That’s really cool! Do you have any pics? How many pieces was it? Were there any custom decorations? What tools did you use? I want to know what you’re familiar with in here.” This time, it was Bentley who felt that cathartic burst of childish triumph. Dipper laughed and started scratching at the back of his neck. “Oh, sorry, I—it’s a running joke we have after somebody misheard me say that I had commissioned a custom bedroom set for a child, nobody’s child in particular, just a child that I thought needed a custom bedroom set with appropriate thematic imagery, I haven’t used any of these tools, but that’s fine because you, a professional, a professional carpenter employed by the Library, is here to help us and I think that’s just great, don’t you? Say, Torako, what experience do you have??” Torako grinned. “Nothing and you know it, dweebus.” Mx. Tchaikovsky returned the smile, long, thin hands on zir hips. “Okay, great to hear! Thanks for being honest, I really appreciate it. What about you, Mr…Farkas, right? You got any experience?” Bentley repressed the urge to stick out his tongue at Dipper and turned his attention to Mx. Tchaikovsky. “I took a couple sculpture classes in undergrad and used some tools there—a 3D printer, a pattern cutter, and a handheld rotary tool, if I remember right—but it’s been several years.” Mx. Tchaikovsky nodded, then stroked zir chin. “Okay, I see what’s happened—you know how hard it’s going to be and how much time it’s going to take, whereas these two—” Zi gestured at Torako and Dipper “—don’t have an idea of what they’re getting into. But, like, if you guys are willing to spend a significant amount of time on these custom bedside tables…why not go for something you want in your life for a long time?” Bentley blinked at zir. He looked around the room, machinery piled against the walls, spare materials organized (mostly) into shelves and containers. The thin light from an overcast sky filtered in through the windows and highlighted lazily floating dust motes. “Huh,” he said, a little quietly. He looked back at Mx. Tchaikovsky. “You sure that wouldn’t be too much work for you?” “It would be a challenge,” Zi admitted, still grinning a little, lopsided, and zir boot scuffed against the concrete flooring. “For everybody, really. But I like teaching, and if things get too difficult to manage partway through, we can improvise and level down.” A glance at both Torako and Dipper told Bentley everything he needed to know about what they thought of levelling down. To be fair, he thought, he was also feeling…competitive. “Okay,” he said, holding a hand out for his previous proposal application. “I can change it up.” Torako and Dipper high-fived again. Mx. Tchaikovsky said, “That’s the spirit!” and handed over the proposal. Bentley took the holographic file in his gloved hand and looked down at it, before smiling over at Torako and Dipper. His design was going to crush theirs. - In late November, they were finally able to take their monstrous creations home. Monstrous, in Dipper’s case, meant that he’d made an almost seamless shelving unit that they installed above the bed for a package of shrimp chips. Even if anybody were to figure out how to get into the hidden drawers in each wide span of wood framing the open shelves, they would be very hard pressed to not lose any fingers (or noses) in the process. In Torako’s case, it meant that her bulky, stupidly heavy bedside table that was more sculpture than functional furniture was so dense that it took bribing Dipper with a pint of ice cream and a bag of anatomically correct gummy hearts (scaled down) to get it from the workshop and into the bedroom. Torako had gleefully chucked the dining room chair out into the garden the morning they went to pick up their pieces—and then promptly was made to go outside into the snow to get the chair because “Those were a bitch to find, Torako, and if you’ve broken it you get to fix it.” In Bentley’s case, it was simply shaped, fairly light-weight. The overall shape was rather boxy, as opposed to Torako’s (hourglass) or Dipper’s (in a word: aerodynamic). There was a single drawer above an empty space at the bottom for any larger things he might need. The biggest visual difference, however were the flowers carved into the sides and carved into the top of the table—spider lilies, vibrant reds and yellows and greens standing out from a dark-varnished background. They had been painstakingly carved, and recurved, and glued back together when the support was too weak and he went too far. Then they had been painted, shaded, dusted here and there with shimmering gold powder, and on the underside of one petal near the bottom-right corner, Bentley had very carefully inscribed his name as small as he could. He set the bedside table down, took a step back, and looked the room over. Torako was sprawled across the bed to take up as much space as possible. Dipper was floating upside-down in the corner. Their tables—new, custom made—matched even less than the rest of the furniture in the house, cobbled together from several sources and time periods. Bentley appreciated matching furniture and themes as much as anybody but somehow this just…suited them. He rubbed at his mismatched hands, and smiled a little. “So,” Dipper asked, hair unbound and floating around him in a way he probably thought was cool but just made him look even dorkier than usual. “Why spider lilies?” Bentley thought about it for two seconds, then said, “Because they’re the most stupid difficult flower I could think of to render in three dimensions?” Muffled by the pillow she had her face pressed into, Torako said, “I knew it, you competitive little shit! You couldn’t just let me have my figure of the three of us, you had to outdo me!” “Three of us?” Bentley asked. He looked at the flying dragon (that resembled more of a badger than anything else) and the two figures on its back that made up the support for the top of her table and narrowed his eyes. He knew the one in something resembling armor was Korato, and the figure with too-long arms draped across Korato’s back was Alcor, but he didn’t see anything like… Dipper started cackling. “He’s the dragon?? The dragon!!” “A talking dragon,” Torako said, rolling over so that she could speak easier. “I decided it halfway through the project—it just. Made more sense if it was all three of us, you know?” With a sigh, Bentley stepped forward and flopped onto the bed, half-on Torako’s legs. “Goddammit,” he said. “If it’s all three of us, I guess you win.” She laughed. Dipper sputtered. “But—but look at how smooth and seamless mine is! How perfectly hair-trigger the traps are! It’s even and sleek and beautiful and I can’t believe you’re saying Torako won!” “Torako’s may be ridiculously heavy and technically unrefined,” Bentley said, curling over onto his side so he could look Dipper better in the eyes, “but she made me a dragon. She wins.” “Also you hella cheated,” Torako said, pointing a finger up at Dipper. “Even Mx Tchaikovsky was baffled as to how you managed a couple of those traps, and zi held our hands all the way through this mess. You definitely used a couple tricks to get things to work.” Dipper flushed all the way to the tips of his pointed ears. “So what?? I used the tools at my disposal, and I made the perfect trap furniture.” “Bentley got second place,” Torako said. She reached down to scrunch her fingers into Bentley’s hair. He sighed and tipped his head back a little, eyes sliding shut as she began to lightly massage his scalp. “What the heck!” Dipper said. The air itself bristled a little. Bentley inhaled deep, counted to three, and exhaled slow. “The heck,” Dipper said, the air loosening up again. “You two are—you’re in cahoots! You have to be!” “So take some pics and show them to other people,” Torako drawled. Her leg shifted underneath Bentley, and he obligingly lifted his weight so that she could rearrange herself into a more comfortable position. “Or, instead, you could join our ‘the house is finally a home’ victory snuggles.” “That’s what these are?” Bentley asked, draping an arm over Torako’s waist. “Yes,” she said, her fingers moving out of the way so that she could press a kiss to the crown of his head. “That’s exactly what these are. Yo, Dipper, you going to sulk or you going to cuddle?” “Both,” Dipper grumbled before settling in on Bentley’s other side, an arm sliding over his side and curling around his chest. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten this injustice.” Bentley hummed. “Okay,” he said, and shifted himself further up the bed. “You do that, buddy.” After a moment, warm between their bodies and under the soft cover of sunlight coming in the window, Bentley heard Dipper whisper to Torako, “So—you happy with everything?” “Yeah,” Torako said, after a moment. Her long fingers stilled on his head. “Yeah, this is good. This is—really, really good.” A heartbeat, and then Dipper, soft: “I’m glad.”

#bentley #dipper pines #torako #tau #tau fic #transcendence au #my fic

[carapeace]

I wrote a oneshot for Ladynoir July!!

You can read above on AO3 or under the cut:

Ladybug was in a bit of a pickle.

To say the least.

To the outside eye, there was absolutely nothing wrong about the situation she now found herself in. She wasn’t in any sort of imminent danger, in the middle of solving any sort of puzzle. Most, if not all, of the female population of Paris would kill to be in her situation right now. (Some of the males too.)

And yet…

She didn’t know how to feel about it.

Her giggling petered out and she took a bite of her cupcake. “What?”

His eyes glinted. The sun was setting, sending a burst of pink and orange across his face. “Okay, but listen--you get cold easily, right? And I purr sometimes?”

“Yeah?” she said, mouth full of red velvet.

“Moths are attracted to lamps. It’s science. We bring a lamp, lure him out, and then--”

She grinned around her mouthful of cupcake. “That’s like--sprinkling birdseed to attract Mayura.”

He smiled, one of his sharp teeth poking out, cupcake crumbs scattered across his face. The colors in the sky made him look like part of a painting. “An excellent idea.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Okay--but hear me out, my Lady--we bring some birdseed and a lamp, maybe some bug spray as a backup--”

She put her cupcake down and raised her hand. “No.”

“Why?”

“If it really does work-- if --then I don’t want them to spray me in the face with it. Birdseed maybe, a lamp, fine, but no bug spray--why are you laughing?”

He was giggling, a hand in front of his mouth. Chat Noir so rarely giggled like this--it was such a nice sound. “Because you’re funny.”

“No, I’m not!”

He raised an eyebrow at her in a cute kind of mischievous way, and she pouted her lips and crossed her arms. “Let’s see who’s laughing when they show up to the next fight with a laser pointer.”

It was well past midnight. She hoped her parents hadn’t noticed she’d snuck out, or that she’d stolen two cupcakes from the shop and brought them with her.

The bag, embossed with the logo of the Dupain-Chengs and filled with cupcake crumbs, now lay strewn across the roof, like an afterthought. She was laying somewhat horizontally across the roof, and Chat Noir’s arms were around her.

She didn’t know how it happened.

But she didn’t hate it.

She leaned in and rang his bell. The sun had just set, and the moon was rising. “What’s a stray cat doing so far from home at this late hour?”

“Hanging with his lady, of course,” he replied, so easily and smoothly it almost seemed like second nature. He leaned back onto the heels of his hands.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?”

Chat Noir acted shocked. “Better? Than seeing you? No way.”

“Really? You wouldn’t rather be dancing the night away at a masquerade ball, or modeling for a magazine or something?”

Chat mumbled something in response.

“What?”

He smiled. “Nothing. You know the best moments I have are with you, my Lady. Easily beats anything they’ve got for me back home.”

She paused. “What do you mean?”

He waved his hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay…” Ladybug put her hand down--she hadn’t realized she’d kept it hovering at his bell for so long. “You can talk to me about anything, you know, Chaton.”

“Oh, Ladybug,” he replied sadly, smiling. “I can’t. You know that.”

When she woke up, she was on top of his chest, her arms crossed over his heart. He was facing the sky with both of his arms wrapped around her back, and she could feel his heartbeat and the rise and fall of his breathing. Her head was nestled in the crook of her elbow, and her legs were curled up, resting on top of his.

Jeez. She was so tired. She just wanted to go back to sleep.

Part of her felt uncomfortable going back to sleep somehow, like she was living a lie--but it felt far worse to leave him.

And, well, she liked it.

There. That was the truth. Ladybug liked it. Happy now?

“Hey. Chat. Look.”

She was pointing over the side of the bridge with all the locks overlooking the Seine.

“What?”

Ladybug pointed, increasingly more frantic, at the water’s surface, shining with the reflection of the moon. “Look!”

Chat Noir put both hands on the banister and craned his neck over the side. “All right, all right. I’m looking. What--”

She shoved him so he went sprawling over the side, limbs flailing. He only had time to get out a squawk of surprise before he was underwater. Ladybug cackled, holding her stomach.

Chat surfaced, spitting water out of his mouth in an arc. “Ladybug!”

Ladybug was giggling so hard she barely heard him. He used his baton to raise himself out of the water, still spluttering. “My Lady! Betrayal!”

She grinned and tweaked his nose.

He shook his head, splashing her with water, then frowned. “Oh, no.”

“What? What is it?”

He put a hand inside his pocket and panic surfaced on his face. “Oh, no, no, crap …”

“What’s wrong?”

“I think something fell out of my pocket when you pushed me in…” Chat Noir squinted at the water’s surface. “Can you help me look for it?”

Ladybug squinted too, leaning over the side. “What does it look--”

Suddenly there was a shove at her back and she was falling from the bridge into the water below. With a loud splash, she hit the surface and came back up immediately, the ribbons on her pigtails wet down by the water. “Chat!”

Chat was laughing so hard, he needed his baton to hold him up. “Your face…”

She swung her yo-yo at the banister and swung up, dripping wet. “Okay, I probably deserved that.”

“You definitely deserved that,” he corrected.

Both of them were soaked to the bone, water beading off of their suits, and for a brief moment Ladybug felt an inexplicably strong urge to cup his face in her hands. He was still giggling, mouth wide open like this was the funniest joke in the world, and she joined in.

Ladybug propped her chin up and watched him sleep. His mouth was just open enough to catch a glimpse of one sharp tooth poking between his lips. His right eye kept twitching, and his blond hair swept effortlessly over his forehead. Even horizontally, it was perfect.

Oh my God--get a grip, Marinette. This was ridiculous. She was not watching Chat Noir while he slept.

“That’s Gemini,” he was saying, one claw pointing straight up at the sky. His head was in her lap, and they were both staring upwards. “Do you see it?”

“No, not--oh, wait, is that it?” Ladybug pointed to a set of stars that looked like it could be two stick figures, if she squinted really hard.

“That’s it.”

“How do you know?”

He shrugged, a wistful look clouding his eyes. “I wanted to be an astronaut as a kid. My mother and I used to stargaze on the roof of our house.”

They were both wrapped in towels and surrounded by candles after an impromptu trip to the 24/7 dollar store (they worried about catching a cold from pushing each other into the river so much). Ladybug had picked out the towels, and Chat had come back to the cart carrying a whole armful of different scented candles--vanilla brown sugar, maple syrup, cranberry cinnamon. The cashier had given it all to them for free, which was nice of her, as neither Ladybug nor Chat Noir had any money on them. (Superheroes didn’t usually need to carry any.)

Ladybug drew her towel tighter around her shoulders. “Can you find the Big Dipper?”

“Maybe. It’s not always easily visible.” He squinted at the sky and pointed up, tracing the outline of the ladle. “Ah, there it is.”

“I see it!” Ladybug traced it with her finger--it looked incredible. She pointed at the end of the handle. “Is that one the north star?”

Chat Noir shook his head. “The north star is actually in the Ursa Minor--it’s over here.” He took her wrist and guided her finger over to a smaller-looking constellation to the left. “There.”

She let her finger drop after a few seconds of looking at it. “That’s amazing.”

He smiled up at her with this soft sort of smile. “You’re my north star, my Lady.”

She looked down at his face. “And you’re mine.”

That surprised them both. Ladybug turned red and Chat Noir sat up, his head coming out of her lap to stare at her. They just held eye contact for a few seconds after that, the light from the flickering streetlamp illuminating the side of his face.

How did anybody expect Marinette to just sleep at a time like this?

Okay, well, she had done it before. Somehow, in a way she didn’t quite remember, she had ended up going to sleep on Chat’s chest.

But how was she expected to do it a second time?

This was Chat Noir. Her partner, her best friend. They were in close proximity all the time--why was this any different?

This wasn’t any different. She was overthinking it.

The steady rhythm of his heartbeat made her drowsy. She sat up, then lay back down, then sat up again.

What was the matter with her?

Chat Noir blew the last scented candle out--caramel pumpkin spice--and they were in darkness, wrapped in towels with a stray cupcake bag strewn next to them on the roof.

“It’s late,” said Ladybug through a yawn.

“Yeah.”

“And it’s cold.”

“I know.”

She lay down on top of the roof, looking at the silhouette of Chat’s back against the moon. “That’s okay, though. You’re warm.”

He looked at her and slowly lay down to face her. Both of them were curled up under towels, their clasped hands beneath their heads, like kids at a sleepover. “I am?”

She nodded.

“You are, too,” he said. She could only really see the outline of him now. “And you smell like vanilla. You smell like that scented candle.”

She had come to terms with the fact that she wouldn’t remember any of this when she woke up. She was far too tired to process what was happening, and he looked wiped out, too.

“You smell like…” She wasn’t quite sure. “Like… baby powder.”

He snorted. “Baby powder?”

“Yeah. Baby powder and soap and cheese. And sometimes Old Spice when you’re trying to impress me.”

He didn’t say anything. A couple of seconds went by, and Ladybug drew her towel further around herself. The next words sort of popped out without her permission. “What do you like about me?”

“What do I like about you?”

She nodded.

“You…” Chat Noir paused. “You’re pretty. And you’re smart. You smile at me when I say stupid things.”

She smiled at him.

He grinned back. “Like that. You’re honest and you’re kind and your eyes sparkle in the rain. The sound of your laugh is my favorite song and your hugs feel like promises.”

Ladybug looked at him, and the silence seemed to stretch.

“I like that you’re smart,” she said finally. “You’re a lot smarter than people give you credit for. And some of your jokes are actually funny.”

“Thank you.”

“Your bell makes a slightly different sound each time I ring it and I love the way your hair falls over your forehead. Your eyes are actually green, in real life, and sometimes you talk like you write poetry and you know all the constellations and your arms feel safe.”

“My arms feel safe?”

“Your arms feel safe.”

“Okay.”

A couple of seconds went by. “Do I really talk like I write poetry?”

“Yeah. Do you?”

“Sometimes.”

“I knew it. What do you write about?”

“You.”

“No way.”

“Way. I’ll write one right now.”

“All right. Let’s hear it.”

Chat Noir paused, thinking. “The bug’s got her spots, she’s coming to town.”

“Ooh, I like that.”

“Nothing and no one can knock her down.”

“That’s a nice rhyme.” She scooted closer. “Is there more?”

Chat swallowed. “With a smile on her face and eyes sky blue…”

Ladybug smiled and said nothing, waiting for him to finish.

“You’re selfless and kind--” Chat coughed and sat up. “Nevermind. Forget it.”

“No,” said Ladybug softly. “I want to hear the rest.”

“It’s fine, I didn’t even really think of an ending anyway--”

“Please?”

He swallowed again. She tracked the movement with her eyes. “You’re selfless and kind, and I…”

“You what?”

“And I love you.”

He barely even whispered the words, but she heard them just the same.

There was a long silence.

It was abruptly broken by the wind. A gust of it blew particularly strong and hit Ladybug square in the face, and she was still wet from being tossed in the Seine earlier. She shivered. “I’m cold.”

He opened his arms wordlessly, and she climbed into them without hesitation. He wrapped his arms around her back, and the sound of his heartbeat, the steady rise and fall of his chest, rocked her to sleep.

Chat Noir was asleep. Ladybug would wager a guess at it being two or three in the morning, and she was exhausted.

His chest was warm, and his breathing was steady, and why not admit it? She liked this.

She put her lips to his forehead and wrapped her arms around his back, laying her head back down on his chest and feeling his heartbeat next to her ear. It was a steady rhythm.

And his arms felt safe.

So she slept.

#my fic #miraculous ladybug #ladybug #chat noir #ladynoir #ladynoir july #ladynoir july 2020 #ladynoirjuly2020 #im not following the schedule because i'm not distinguished enough to make content everyday #but i might do another oneshot later if i have time

[indescribablechoices]

let me go home (part one)

Pairing: Sonia x MC (Nina), Damien x MC (Kai) x Hayden

Word Count: 1890 

Fic Tag List: @brightpinkpeppercorn @kennaxval @thehonorarybeaumont @emomoustache 

Listening Suggestion: Home - Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros

Synopsis: Eighteen months after the events in Monaco, Nina brings Sonia home to meet the family.

“Are you okay?”

Nina let out a soft breath, fingers flexing against the wheel of her car. She glanced across at Sonia who was sat beside her, concern in her eyes. They had been pulled up on the side of the road in silence for a long few minutes, neither making the first move to get out of the car.

“Yeah, I just…” Nina rested her head against the glass of her window, eyes flicking to the familiar suburban house that they were now parked in front of, “It’s been a while since I’ve been back here.”

A frown crossed Sonia’s face, “I thought you said you and your family stayed in contact.”

“We do,” she said, “It’s just very different talking to them on the phone where I can lie about what I’m doing and actually being here in person.”

“Do you want to leave?”

“No,” she reached across and took Sonia’s hand in hers, eyes trailing to the diamond ring that Sonia now wore, “I can’t wait to marry you, baby. I want my family to celebrate that with us. I am never happier than when I’m with you.”

“Even when you’re rolling naked in money?” Sonia cocked an eyebrow.

Nina smirked, meeting Sonia’s eyes, “That activity, like everything else in my life, is better with you.”

Sonia bit back a laugh with a scoff, “Sap.”

“Your sap,” Nina reminded her, happily receiving the kiss that Sonia leaned over to plant on her cheek.

The anxiety that had been resting heavily in her chest felt lighter by just the small interaction. Today felt like the first day of the rest of her life. The Monaco job felt like a breeze compared to the gut-wrenching nerves that had been eating at her for weeks at the thought of this visit, at finally bringing all of the parts of her life together. If she was going to spend the rest of her life with Sonia, she didn’t want to be hiding half of herself away.

Together, they climbed out of the car, Nina leading Sonia up the footpath to the front door, waiting with bated breath after ringing the doorbell. Nina smiled to herself at the sound of her mother’s voice calling from within that she was coming.

The door swung open, revealing a woman in her late forties, dark hair cut into a bob, both Sonia and Nina towering over her short figure.

“Nina?” she asked quietly, tears glimmering at the corners of her brown eyes.

“Hi Mama,” Nina offered her a smile, and was swiftly yanked down into a tight embrace.

Her mom quickly began to fuss over her, asking if she had eaten, attempting to wipe a makeup smudge away with her thumb. Nina laughed as she did, Sonia’s heart swelling at the sight of one of the world’s most prestigious thieves receiving a maternal second-hand lick.

Another figure, taller this time, appeared behind her mother, a man older again by nearly ten years, his dark hair showing signs of greying.

“Nina!” he beamed, pulling her into a hug. She hugged him back before she stepped out of their arms, retaking Sonia’s hand.

“Mama, Papa, I want you to meet Sonia; my fiancée. Sonia, this is my mother and father; Kai and Damien.”

Kai’s face lit up with a wide grin, “Fiancée?!”

Sonia found herself pulled into a fierce hug by the small woman who began to fuss over her just as she had to her daughter just a moment before, saying how beautiful she was, how lovely her clothes were, and obviously how wonderful she must be for Nina to want to settle down.

Damien chuckled as he watched the exchange, “You might want to let the poor young woman inside the house, Peanut.”

Kai shushed him playfully, but she did release Sonia, stepping aside to invite everyone in. Nina mouthed a quick apology to Sonia as they went inside the house. The walls were lined with pictures from her childhood, showing an array of memories, from vacation shots, to official school photographs, candid shots of the entire family and two dogs; a brown collie and a German Shepherd.

“Oh Dipper and Columbo,” Nina cooed, looking at one of the pictures of the dogs, “They were our family dogs growing up. Dipper was dad’s dog before I was born. Columbo was an ex police dog, but he had the softest heart you’d ever met.”

“Just like Nina’s father,” Kai told Sonia with a laugh.

“I heard that,” Damien glanced at his wife with a smirk before looking to Nina, “Your dad is in the kitchen if you want to go surprise him.”

Nina’s smile grew even wider than Sonia thought possible as she was led further into the house, Kai and Damien heading on into the living room.

“I thought Damien was your dad?” Sonia asked quietly once they were alone in the corridor, heading towards the soft sounds of a radio playing and someone clanking around in a kitchen.

“Damien is my biological father, but I call him ‘Papa’. You’re about to meet my ‘Dad’ Hayden,” Nina told her, “My parents have been in a polyamorous relationship since long before me or my brother were born.”

“Is it just the three or is there another parent lurking around here somewhere?”

Nina laughed, “Just one mom, two dads. There is my Auntie Alana as well, and she and Mama are together, and she used to date Papa, but that was before they all really met each other… It can get complicated to explain to someone new… It’s not too much, is it?”

“It is… more than I was expecting,” Sonia admitted, but pulled her to a stop to wrap her arms around her and press a soft kiss to her lips, “But they are your family, and I can’t wait to be a part of it.”

“Thank you,” Nina said softly, “There’s something else you should know. My Dad looks a lot younger than Mom and Papa. He looks closer to our age, but he’s not. He… well…”

“Baby, whatever it is you can tell me.”

“I’ve never told anyone about him before. At least not like this. I wanted to keep him safe. You’re the only person I trust enough.”

“Nina you’re a highly wanted criminal and I have lied to several law agencies about you. I can handle this.”

Nina’s heart lifted with affection as she looked at this wonderful woman that she trusted more than anything. She let out a gentle sigh, “Did your parents ever tell you about Eros? The company that-”

“Released a bunch of human-like AIs into the world and are now at the forefront of AI technology? I’ve heard.”

“Hayden is one of those AIs. He and my parents helped save the president’s life when Eros tried to assassinate her.”

Sonia stared at her for a moment, eyebrows raised before she let out a whisper of, “Holy shit… how have you never been caught? You have one of the most high-profile families I’ve ever heard of.”

“Special favour from the Oval Office. The only reward my parents asked for was to go home and live out their lives. There was an undisclosed financial sum, of course, you don’t get a house like this in the ‘burbs on a cop, a decorator and a teachers’ salary. But my whole family is under the radar. To keep my dad safe.”

“So, he’s really an AI?” she asked.

“Apart from the non-aging, you would never know. I mean, he’s stronger than the average man, but when you’re a kid you think your dad is the strongest person in the world... But he’s as human as you or I,” she added quickly, a defensive edge to her voice.

Sonia took hold of her hands, giving them a squeeze, “Baby, I wouldn’t care if your dad was a toaster. He’s your dad, and I can’t wait to meet him.”

Nina leaned against her for a minute, “Thank you… This… All of this is a lot for you to hear in one go, I know, but I’ve never been able to really share it with anyone. It’s scary, letting someone truly see you.”

“I see you,” Sonia said, lifting one of her hands to tuck a dark curl behind Nina’s ear.

“You always have,” Nina smiled as their lips met in a gentle kiss. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, the floral scent of Sonia’s perfume setting her at ease, “C’mon. Dad’s going to lose his mind when he meets you.”

They headed further into the house together, and Sonia paused slightly behind Nina to let her begin introductions. Nina leaned in the kitchen doorway, smiling to herself as she watched her dad potter around the kitchen. The radio was blaring pop music, so it was no wonder that he hadn’t heard the commotion at the front door. He stopped to stir at something in a pot on the stove, and a delicious aroma reached her nose, nostalgia panging through her heart as she recognised the smell of her dad’s bolognese.

“Hey Dad.”

Hayden’s head whipped around at the familiar voice, tears already in his eyes as he took in the sight of her.

“Is that really my little girl?” he asked quietly, a smile starting to spread across his face.

They crossed the room and met in the middle, Hayden wrapping his long arms around her to hold her close. She held him tight, resting her face on his chest.

“I missed you so much,” she murmured into his shirt.

“I missed you too. I didn’t know you were coming home,” he admitted, “I would have prepared your favourite, and got your room ready and made a cake or something, I…”

She couldn’t contain her smile as he began to fuss worse than her mother had, “Dad, it’s okay. I wanted it to be a surprise, and you know I’ll eat anything as long as Mama doesn’t cook it.”

He let out a soft laugh, “That woman could burn water.”

She laughed as well, “Have you got enough for two guests?”

“Two…?” He eyes drifted to where Sonia was waiting in the kitchen doorway, “Oh! Who is this?”

Nina held her hand out for Sonia who moved to join her, taking her hand, “Sonia, this is my dad Hayden. Dad, this is Sonia… she’s my fiancée.”

His eyes went wide as tears welled up in them and he threw his arms around both of them.

“Oh it’s so wonderful to meet you,” he cooed, voice softened by tears.

“It’s wonderful to meet you as well,” Sonia laughed.

“Who would have known my ordinary Thursday would have brought me this, my daughter home and a new addition to our family?” he beamed, stepping back to take in the sight of them both, heart bursting with pride at the sight of his child all grown up and so happy, “This calls for a proper Nazario-Young family celebration. We’ll get your brother home for the weekend, and see if we can rustle up some Nazarios, Parks and Moussavis… you…” his smiled faded slightly, “You are staying for the weekend, aren’t you?”

Nina glanced at Sonia who gave her an approving smile before she looked back to her dad, “Yeah, we’re staying for the weekend.”

to be continued...

#the heist: monaco #perfect match #sonia alves #sonia x mc #damien nazario #damien x mc x hayden #hayden young #kai park #nina nazario-young #writing

[hubert-duck]

The fact that dipper canonically smells like baby wipes is something I never asked to know but now desperately cling on to.

#ten years of gravity falls #gravity falls tenth anniversary #gravity falls dipper #gravity falls #gravity falls dipper pines #gf dipper #dippin dots #dipper pines #dipper smells like baby wipes #sweet emotionally abused dipper #comfort character #comfort show

[chris-hattori]

Miraculous Ladybug Fluff Month

@miraculousfluffmonth

Ao3

Day 19: A weekend together

Marinette & Adrien

The worst case scenario happen, both hero are trapped In an Akuma caused, but this isn’t there biggest problem.

Adrien wakes up, with a heavy head on a heavier ground. Growling he rolls on his side and try to remember what happen.

He was at school, they got a project in health class to take care of a baby doll. Chloe complaint first, about the fact that Marinette is his ‘wife’ for the project, then about the hole project itself. She menaced the teacher, to call her father, and end his career if he wouldn’t switch the partners like she wants it. The teacher leave enraged the classroom, to get Director Damocles and came back as Akuma. The Akuma hit the hole class with a beam, before they could do something and....

Adriens eyes snap open, the Akuma hit them. Siting up he sees that Marinette lay next to him on the ground. “Marinette?” ask he with a hoarse voice. With a soft moan her eyes flutter open

“Are you okay?” His Partner shake slowly her head with a grimace. Adrien looks down at her and notice her strange clothing, although she looks cute in the pink sundress

“Do you remember what happen?” Marinette rest silent for a bit, taking a sharp breath she sits up. “Oh no, we got hit”

Adrien rubs over his face, strange his right-hand feels so bare. He let his hands fall in shock, his ring is gone.

“Oh no” whispered he

“What” ask Marinette high alarmed, he lifts his right hand and Marinette paled

“Do you think that the Akuma... Wait what are you wearing?” he looks down at the green shirt, something click in his head

“Reflekta” whispered he relived he smiles to a puzzled looking Marinette

“Everything alright My Lady I still have my ring, is only hide underneath this all”

Marinette let out a long sigh “That mean we can’t transform” Adrien shake his head, Marinette looks down at her own outfit still too pale. “Hey we will find a solution” With wide eyes Marinette lift her left hand. Adrien star at the prefect copy of Marinettes golden ring, he wears one too dose this mean..

“We can’t transform, are trap god knows where and are married. Shoot me” murmur she dry

Adrien bit back a sarcastic comment, about how much of a chatch he is. Instead of making this hilarious pun he stands up and looks around.

Is a small room or more house they are in, the small living room is connected with the open kitchen and four closed doors to their left. He didn’t want to know what is behind those doors.

“Something confused me right now” said Marinette and take his offer hand to stand up “If the Akumas goal is the project, then it makes no sense that we are apparently married...” Marinette press her fingertips to her lips and interrupt herself, Adrien looks around for the source of danger.

“Do you hear this too?” ask she in a lower voice. Adrien listen strained, but he hears nothing. “What should I hear?” whispered he back.

Marinette walks straight to one of the closed door and open it. The room is set up as a nursery, he follower his Lady into the room and can hear the soft whining. Marinette walks straight to the crib in the middle of the blue painted room. Adrien steps curious closer, in the tiny crib wrapping into a blue blanket lies a baby.

A real baby

The baby looks up to them with Sapphire blue eyes, with a trembling lips it let out a soft cry. Marinette pick it quickly up and hold it close to her chest

“Shh, don’t cry” now the Baby start to cry louder

“I think you make it angry” Marinette glare up to him

“It's not a it, it’s a...” she looks down at the screaming bundle. “the paper said that it is a boy right?”

Adrien shrug, it is the first time for him to be actually trapped in something get like this, who know how correctly the Akuma take it with the project or the baby gender.

Adrien watch how Marinette walks over to the small winding station. The baby scram even louder, when Marinette lay it down on the wrap mat and start to undress it.

Quickly she changes the dipper and handle him the baby over. Adrien star down at the sniffing bundle in his arms “Where are you going?” ask he nervous, his head starts to products horror scenarios in which Marinette leave and let it to him to take care of the baby

“kitchen, I bet he will need a bottle soon”

“You are a boy?” ask Adrien the blond boy, he looks pounding up to him, a small grumble from his tummy, let Marinette humming

“told you so” she left the room and let him back with the baby.

Him! He didn’t know what to do with a baby, small children’s are no problem, but a baby a small helpless human who needs him to survive? No chance

Like on command the baby grimace and let out a horrible howl. “Don’t cry buddy, Marie is papering your meal and oh” a pong smell reach his nose, Adrien looks at the boy. “You are kidding right” the howling, take a high-pitched tone, that Adrien grimaces.

“Marie!” called he helpless

“What?” came the reply immediately

“It... He” correct Adrien himself quickly “he made again in his dipper”

“Then change it, I’m busy over here”

Adrien star at the mat, he changing a dipper? He never had done this before, but it couldn’t be that difficult right?

Grumbling Adrien sits across Marinette and the baby. The boy is suckling eager on the bottle Marinette feeds him. “ I never see someone use a tape to fix a dipper” Adrien feels a blush coming up to his cheeks “How I was supposed to know that it wasn’t need it?” Marinette giggle softly to the baby “the two lash on the side wasn’t enough of a hint for him” Adrien roll his eyes, it wasn’t his fault that he didn’t have any experience with babysitting.

“What shall we do now?” ask she quietly without to take her gaze from the baby boy.

“I don’t know it” amid he

“when we play after his rules, do you think we will find an opportunity to take him down?”

“The baby or the Akuma?” with an amused smile Marinette looks up to him. “Kitty”

Adrien sigh “the project was for done in a week, but maybe Hawk Moth stop the Akuma, by himself, when we don’t show up” Marinette bit down on her lips,

“ So you suggest we do nothing, besides taking care of him?” Adrien gives her a short nod. It isn’t the ideal plan, but the only thing they can actually do.

“He needs a name”

“The sick puppet master” said Adrien immediately, Marinette gives him a shocked looking “The baby Adrien, not the Akuma”

Oh, ups

Marinette shake light her head and adjust her grip around the baby. Adrien looks at her with theoretical their baby in her arms, not only theoretical, with his blond hair and Marinettes blue eyes the baby already looks like a mix of them. It is a nice picture one he could see in his own future and now that she want to name him, makes it even more real.

Dangerous real

“What do you think about Hugo?” ask she by his silence.

Hugo he like the sound of it.

Adrien and change his position to sit next to Marinette and Hugo. The boy let go of the almost empty bottle with a small yawn. “ It fits, Hugo the little jungle animal” said Adrien softly and crawl careful Hugos tummy, His ‘son’ let out a burp and close his eyelashes.

A soft cry wake Adrien up, growing he rolls down from the couch and slurp into the kitchen, to take Hugos bottle. He pass the closed bedroom door, in which Marinette is thankfully still sleeping.

It was only two days, they take care for Hugo now, but it feels like two months. Between continually looking for Hugos needs and the meetings with their other classmates, which were in their own house nearly, feels like a Damn full time job. Why didn’t nobody warn how much work a baby could be? Ask Adrien himself in his lack of sleep. Right that’s why this project exist. Not that Chloe see how wrong she was to insult the teacher. No she is sure that Ladybug and Chat Noir are going to save her.

Ah, not this time.

“Shh Hugo, I’m here” whispered he and pick him up. Adrien check short the still dry dipper, before he felled down into the rocking chair, to feed the boy. Whined Hugo takes the pacifier and drink eager.

“Ah you didn’t expect me right?” with Marinettes clear blue eyes, Hugo looks up to him and let out another muffed whine

“I know that you already like her really much, but she needs her sleep buddy” hums Adrien sleepy with a smile “My Marinette is something special, really Miraculous ” Hugo is almost through the half bottle, when Adrien starts to wipe with the chair. “ She is my special someone you know, the one who turns my hole life upside down, and exactly like you I love this feeling she can give you with one smile” whispered Adrien, swallowing the last sip, Hugo close his eyes and drift back to sleep.

Away to tired to stand up and lay Hugo back in his bed. Adrien close his eyes, he would just sleep here, until it was time for the next round. He is almost asleep when he feels that something touch his arm. Immediately Adrien open his eyes, to see the danger and fight it off his son with teeth and claws, but the danger is only Marinette who lies Hugo in his crib. She gives him a sleepy smile “Come to bed Adrien” he raised his eyebrows, did he misheard her. Waiting on the door she stretch her hand out for him

“Come to bed” repeat she again. Adrien sigh deeply and stand up, he takes her hand and let her lead him into the bedroom. Half asleep he felt into the warm bed, and feels how Marinette lay down next to him. If he wouldn’t feel death now, there would be some feeling of shyness, that for sure.

Marinette cuddle closer into his side and lay her head on his shoulder, it is more a Ladybug and Chat Noir thing to be in this position, but he doesn’t care right now, it feels so nice to have her so close.

“Did you mean what you told Hugo?” ask she in a soft whisper.

“The things about you?” she nods on his shoulder “Yea, you always had my heart, nothing changes since I got to know who you are, just keep it low so you don’t get unconformable around us”

He doesn’t know if it’s real or just a product of his sleep misted brain, but he could swear that he heard how Marinette whispered softly “I still love you too Kitty”

----------

I need help

This story is one I would like to counting, but for this I really need, someone who helps me out and is my beat reader. So please, if someone of you like this part and would be interested to read more of it and is willing to put up with this disaster English of mine let a comment here or send me a message

Chris

#miraculous ladybug #miraculousfluffmonth #day 19 #adrien agreste #marinette dupen chang #hugo

[priincesspacificaarchive]

five times cried (all about that angst tbh)

*wipes tears with $20 bills*||(not accepting)

Under the cut bc it got long and sad

i.

She walks away from Dipper, the anger boiling in her veins spilling into her tear ducts, and before she can think twice she’s crying. Crying because Dipper Pines, a nerdy boy who had stolen her heart way back when they were twelve, had found a girlfriend in his time away from Gravity Falls. Crying over a girl she’d never met somehow wooing the boy she’d come to think of as her closest confidant. She can vaguely hear Dipper calling her name, can see him in her mind’s eye staring after her, maybe reaching to catch her, but she walks faster, until she’s sprinting so fast she thinks her lungs will give out.

ii.

She stands in Bubbles’ room, pouring her heart out, confessing her sins. And it hurts because she never intended to grow close to Bubbles. She’d never planned on befriending her. She feels the tears falling, but she doesn’t bother fighting them off, because Bubbles should know how much she means the words “I’m sorry” pouring from her mouth every other sentence. Bubbles has earned that much, deserves to see Pacifica at her weakest. The tears spill and she doesn’t even care that they’re streaking her makeup and trailing mascara and eyeliner down her cheeks. “Bubbles if I had known I wouldn’t have done this.” She’d never have betrayed Bubbles if she knew she’d feel this close to her after a mere month. “I’m so sorry.”

iii.

She watches Bubbles go down from across the street and is out the cafe doors before she can think twice. The second thought, naturally, is; She’s a superhero. But Pacifica is already running to where her friend had slammed head-first into a car before it hits her. She keeps moving, the world is silent around her, just the blood pounding in her ears as she rushes to Bubbles’ side. Her crumpled form is the first thing she sees and Pacifica sobs, a choking sound in her throat as she makes her way to Bubbles’ side. It isn’t long before tears make tracks down her face. She tries to fight them back, she’s seen Bubbles go down like this a bunch of times on the news, she’d be fine. But seeing it in person was different, and it crushed Pacifica to see her this way. She feels a scream tear it’s way out of her throat, hears herself call Bubbles “Blue”. Bubbles staggers herself into a sitting position and Pacifica lets out a deep breath. She wipes the tears away, trying to hide the evidence, but Bubbles looks at her just in time to see the last few spill over.

“I’m okay,” she says, and even forcing a painful grimace on her face seems like she’s beaming. Pacifica has no idea how she does it.

Pacifica reaches out and helps pull her from the mess she’d left behind, pulling her into a hug as soon as she’s back on her feet. “I saw you go down. It was terrifying. I swear if I ever have to see that happen again I’m buying you some fucking elbow pads or something.”

iv.

Pacifica isn’t mad about being a bridesmaid, okay? She’s honored, honestly. And the only reason she’d opted for bridesmaid was because this way she’d wear a dress. Dipper had tried to convince her for months to pick groomswoman, but over a decade of friendship wasn’t going to win him points. She feels bad for leaving Junior with the rest of the wedding guests, (seated on Bubbles’ side so she can see him from her spot) but as soon as she sees Bubbles come out of those back doors she feels her breath leave her. Bubbles is her best friend, one of a handful actually. More than she’d ever imagined having. And here she was, watching two of her closest friends getting married. Yeah, it hits her that damn we’re getting old, but mostly she’s taken aback by the tears she already feels on her face. She doesn’t even have to look at Dipper to know he’s probably halfway to bawling just seeing her, but she looks at him anyways. God, I was right. There he was, tears already pouring down his face. As if he wasn’t going to soak his suit in sweat later at the reception. He had to soak it in his tears first. But that just makes her cry a little harder, because here she was, at Dipper Pines’ wedding, watching him marry a fucking superhero. Back when they were kids she’d never imagined seeing him after that summer, but here she was, crying at his damn wedding. The tears are as much for Bubbles as they are for Dipper though because suddenly she’s thinking of the million other ways this could’ve gone. Had that plan from when she was just a stupid teenager actually worked who knew where they’d all be now? She probably wouldn’t be here, that much she was pretty certain of. She reaches out and squeezes Bubbles hand as she passes, then wipes at her tears. Buttercup would give her endless shit if she didn’t at least try to stop crying. Hell, Pacifica already knew Buttercup was gonna give Dipper shit for bawling like a baby as soon as he saw her. The wedding finally starts, and Pacifica wipes her tears and watches as the two most lovestruck dorks she’d ever met finally, finally tie the knot.

v.

Pacifica’s joints don’t work like they used to, and the rain (while fitting) isn’t helping any. She steps out of the limo behind Junior, an umbrella extended over her head the second she moves. She leans against him heavily, her arm linked through his. She catches the sad look he gives her, and she has to work up the will to glare at him. They walk into the cemetery, and she can’t help the tears that form in her eyes. Pacifica can remember back when Mason had first suggested their engagement pictures in a graveyard, and oh shit now the tears fall a little heavier. Junior keeps her upright, takes a kerchief and dabs at her eyes for her. She smiles at him gratefully, her heart filling with the same warmth she always got when she looked at him.

It’s not too long before they find the others, standing beside her casket. Pacifica eases herself from Junior’s grasp, squeezes his hand and smiles. She goes to Mason first, and she wraps him in a hug so tight she’s scared she’ll break them both. His grip on her feels as firm as ever, and she has to remind herself that they aren’t kids anymore. Their (his) daughter, Chloe, is next. Pacifica presses the young woman to her chest like she was still a little kid, pulls back and wipes some tears from her face with her thumbs. Mabel is next in line, and somehow she’s still managed to get glitter in her thin hair and she still smells like craft supplies. Pacifica begs the cosmos this woman never changes. The sisters, Blossom and Buttercup, are standing next in line, Mojo right behind them looking no older than the day she met him. Pacifica feels her heart pound. It wasn’t fair! She wraps Blossom in a hug as warm and tight as she can muster, and then does the same to Buttercup. The green puff was never much for affection (especially from her) but on this day, Pacifica was going to take it, because she knows they all need it. She shares a sympathizing look with Mojo, but makes no steps towards him. That’s one button she won’t push.

Chloe’s kids are next, with cries of “Grauntie Paz” and flailing limbs. Still so young and small, and she’s already gone. Junior has moved behind her this whole time, making his own rounds, but near enough in case she slips. He’s always been too good for her. The little ones cry out “Grunkle Junior” when Pacifica moves on, back to Mason, where she takes his hand and squeezes as hard as her brittle bones will allow. She feels the tears shedding a little harder as she looks at her old friend, still as gorgeous and bright as the first day Pacifica met her.

“She loved you, you know,” Mason says, and she can hear the smile in his voice.

She laughs, “I know. I know she loved you more than I could ever have hoped to.” The words sound sad, but she means them, with her whole heart. Bubbles had loved Mason as brightly as the sun shone, and Pacifica knew she could never have competed.

Mason looks at her over his glasses, looking too much like his Great Uncle Stan than he probably knows. “That isn’t true.”

She shakes her head, “But it is. She loved you more than even you probably knew.”

“You know I was never very good at picking up on that stuff.”

She snorts, smiles through tears, “Yeah. You sucked at it.” She holds his hand through the ceremony, holds his hand when they throw dirt into the grave, holds his hand until she hugs him goodbye.

#hardcoreproved #[you have one new message][asks] #[the princess has answered][answered asks] #[trying to save the world][ppg verse] #[i wish i could hate her][bubbles] #[mani pedis and shopping][pacifica and bubbles] #[WOW THANKS ANNIE IM CRYING] #[*inserts 'for good' from 'wicked' for the last one to up the tear factor]

[rmjagonshi]

Whole Again - Chapter 15

Whole Again on AO3

Mason opened his eyes and found himself on a giant puffy, amanita mushroom. At least, he thought it was; he didn’t think normal amanita’s quacked when you poked them. The blue grass stalks towering above him and covered with purple and red dew drops seemed to shield him from the sun. He saw the shadow of a bird pass over him; it was a feathery monstrosity. He was dreaming, that was obvious, but the context of his dream was unusual. He couldn’t see much else beyond his little clearing and the sky, which was a seafoam green with pink wisps of clouds like the artist had started to run out of pint. Where was he? He didn’t remember ever imagining anything like this before; nor had he seen anything like it recently.  

Aloud screech of excitement – from the only person such a screech could come from – echoed in the empty air.

“Mabel?” Mason squinted his eyes and tried to shield his face as he scanned the tree, er grassline.  

“Dipper!” His head snapped up a moment before he braced himself for the impact of his sister launching herself from wherever she had been overhead onto his perch. She landed heavily and caused the mushroom to let out a chorus of distressed quacks.  

“oof. Ow, Mabel, you’re heavy.” He winced, voice strained with the lack of adequate air. He tried to push her off, but the more he struggled, the more the mushroom top quacked and jiggled and he couldn’t gain any leverage.  

“Oopse, ok.” Mabel wasn't getting any leverage either, but it didn’t matter much when a set of butterfly wings began to unfurl from her back. They unraveled slowly, the thin webbing damp and dripping with a milky substance. A few drops landed on his face and rolled down his cheeks. It was weirdly sweet, like coffee creamer, and kind of tasted nutty. When her wings were outspread, she flapped them a few times, spraying the mushroom and Mason with more sticky nectar before she lifted off into the air.  

“Is this better?” She called, hovering about four feet (was it feet, or were they really small) above him. They were very fancy wings, having multiple sharp points and curves and embellishment tails that hindered rather than aided flight. In fact, she shouldn’t be able to fly at all. And not just because the wings wouldn’t support her weight.  

“How…how did you…oh, right, I’m dreaming.” Mason scratched at his head and tried again to stand on the mushroom. It let out a heave and a long-suffering quack as he got his footing. It was like that bouncy castle Mike in the third grade had at his birthday party. Mason an Mabel had gotten into a jumping contest…they were asked to leave when the thing sprung a leak. It was a lot less fun than he remembered.    

“Yup, but oh so wrong” Mabel sang from above him, and spread open her arms and rained glitter and small plush strawberries down on him. A particular large berry bounced off his nose; it smelled like baby wipes. Where were they, a weird form of Mabel Land? “I found him!”  

“Wait, what?” Mason had taken off Wendy’s hat to shake the glitter from it – and try to wipe away some of that nectar before it dried – when he hear rustling in the grass forest beyond.  

“FOUR!” The mystery voice was rough, gravel in a tin can rough, and he would know it anywhere. The yellow object flying directly at his head was certainly unfamiliar.  

“What!” Whatever it had been – Mason assumed it used to be a tangy and creamy fruit – was now splattered across his face and shirt, staining the material a bright yellow as the pulp dripped off. He had only a passing moment to be upset when another fruit came out of the grassline and hit Mable. She seemed far less agitated at the mess it caused, instead laughing and crying out in exuberance at the two figures materializing at the edge of the clearing.

Stanley and Stanford Pines stood in all their seafaring glory. Stan wore a white t-shirt and faded jeans that looked as salt encrusted as his boots. He had on a tan trench coat, a read beanie and a pair of palm tree novelty sunglasses. Stan was smiling wide enough, Mason was sure his face was starting to hurt. Ford, however, was not smiling. In fact, if Mason was not mistaken, Ford looked down right livid, face pinched as though he was barely holding back the urge to scream at someone. Ford wore a blue sweater embossed with gold letters that spelled out ‘Nerdy’, brown trousers and stained boots, and a replica of the fishing hats Stan had sewn for Mason and Mabel; it read ‘Sixy’.

“Gr-grunkel Stan? Great Uncle Ford?” What in the heck was he dreaming. His dreams were never this lucid, even when he wanted them to be. He had spent a large part of the summer angry at his own brain that every time he dreamed of kissing Wendy, her face was foggy and blurry and it felt like he was moving through water. He knew when he was dreaming – usually – and this was way too real. It was almost like going into someone’s mi-

“Hey, he finally caught on. It only took Mable a few seconds. Ah well, guess some of us have to overthink things, huh Poindexter.” Stan flipped off the fishing hat so it hung around Ford’s neck and tousled Ford’s hair. Ford angrily pushing Stan’s arm away and flattening out his now pillow quality poof. Mason really should ask him how he keeps his hair that, well, voluminous. He suspected his uncle used a lot of hair gel, or hair spray. He did always have a distinctly chemical smell about him, but Mason always assumed it was due to Ford’s various experiments. Maybe he was a closet fashion aficionado?        

“Merry Christmas!...eve.” Stan spouted, faltering a bit at his correction but still keeping his signature Mr. Mystery grin. He knelt and spread his arms wide, expecting the twins to charge forwards and hug him. Mason carefully slid off the amanita to the ground, Mabel flapped her wings a few times and landed beside him. The twins looked at each other with concern; Mabel was no longer grinning and Mason was chewing the inside of his cheek. Stan’s arms drooped, a melancholy sigh escaping his lips to wrap around his form.

“Alright, alright. I can understand that. They are a bit tacky anyway.” Stan ran a few fingers up his cheek and hook into the hinge of his novelty glasses. With a flourish, he whips them off, revealing his normal glasses overtop deep brown eyes wit round pupils. Only then do the twins rush forwards.

“Grunkle Stan!” They shout in unison, each hanging off one of Stan’s arms. He smelled like salt water and a bit like fish, but neither one cared enough to be bothered. Stan wrapped one arm around each of them, one hand coming up to tangle in Mabel’s hair and the other nearly knocking off Wendy’s hat. Mason felt his cheek press into the fur and cold metal peeking out from Stan’s low shirt collar. It tickled his nose and the chain links were going to leave an impression in his face, but for the moment, everything was right.      

“This is hardy appropriate.” Que Mr. Grumpy Pants, Great Uncle Ford to spoil the moment. Stan let go of the twins and stood slowly, using Mason’s shoulder for leverage and nearly knocking him over. So, Stan got a lot stronger.

“Aw, common Poindexter, we’re in the middle o’the Bermuda Triangle. How else am I gonna get them their presents?” Mason recovered from his stumble and turned to look at Ford, who looked just as irritated as he had before, perhaps with a hint of deep seeded weariness. He rubbed heatedly at his eyes, six fingers pushing his glasses up to his brow. Even though he could probably change his appearance in the mindscape – Mable had been slowly changing her seater color during their exchange, it now sported a pineapple pattern – Ford looked tired. And not the ‘I need sleep because I stayed up too long working’ kind of tired, either.

“Bill, stop it.” Ford’s snap made both kids jump. Mable’s eyes darted back to Stan’s. They were still brown, but now they swam with unshed grief and shame.  

“Aw jeeze. Look, can ya, just this once, call me ‘Stan’? For them?” Stan gestured to the two twins with his open palms. It was Stan, though. His eyes were normal. So even if Mabel and Mason were wrong and it was Bill, he wasn't the one in control now…right? This was Stan. Out of all the things they had learned about Bill, the only consistency was his inability to change his eyes. Mason trusted him. Mostly. Maybe not completely, at least, not if his sister could get hurt. Mason’s eyes snapped to double check that Stan’s eyes were indeed still brown. They were.

Ford looked back and forth between the two teens in front of him and sighed. He couldn’t deny them anything, not when they were this close – even if it was just a mental projection. Ford, too, knelt and embraced the two kinds that had launched themselves at him. Ford’s sweater was soft, and his hug tighter. Mason felt his back pop and hear Mable let out a muffled squeak of protest, but Ford just squeezed them tighter. Ford held them for an awkwardly long time, long enough for Mabel – who LOVES long hugs – to get bored and start tracing the letters on Ford’s sweater. Their uncle needed this. Mason didn’t know why or what was going on in Ford’s head, but it was obvious he needed to make sure they were okay. So, they obliged him.  

“This was kinda a present for you too, ya know.” Stan mumbled, hand rubbing at the back of his neck where the hair had grown to cover it. It wasn't quite long enough to be considered a mullet, but it covered his neck and stopped maybe an inch before his shoulders. He avoided making eye contact directly, but he never turned away so that they couldn’t see his face. It made it easy to notice the slight blush creeping up his face.

“You shouldn’t be doing this.” Ford muttered into Mabel’s hair before letting them go, finally. His hands lingered on their backs, though, each set of six fingers toying with the cotton fabric. It was really weird how tactile it was in the mindscape. Everything here was just a mental projection of what was – and often what wasn’t – in the real world, but it all felt real.  

“I know, I’m gonna sleep for a day after this, but it’s worth it.” Stan just deflected with a grin and a laugh. Mason didn’t care if any of their hypotheses were right, there was no way that Stan Pines was not standing in front of him. He placed his hand on his shoulder, over Ford’s, and leaned into Ford’s arm. Mabel let go of Ford and bounded over to Stan, climbing up his torso to hang from his bicep like an overgrown monkey. She even swung back and forth, losing her wings in favor of a prehensile tail. Mason felt Ford’s grip tighten painfully, his nails leaving six grooves in Mason’s shoulder. Mason winced, but Ford let go when Stan hurriedly gathered Mable and set her back down on the ground. Stan took an obvious step back to distance himself, eyes fearfully darting to Ford.

“Common you two. Wh-where do you want to go?” Stan had recovered, but only just; his voice wavered and now carried a tinge of anxiety.

“What do you mean?” Mason interjected in an attempt to break the tension that has enveloped the clearing.

“Your Christmas present. Anywhere you want to go. Anywhere! All ya gotta do it tell me. I can’t read yer minds right now, too much energy goin’ inta keepin’ all our minds connected.” Stan explained with a dismissive wave of his hand, glossing over the specifics of how exactly he was able to do what he was doing. In fact, he didn’t bother explaining much of anything; he knew that Ford had told the kids everything – well, not everything, but everything important anyway.

“Anywhere?” Mable squealed, head already filling with all the possibilities of kittens and ice cream baby fighting.  

“Anywhere.” Stan countered. Anywhere they wanted to go. No limits. Well, heck, then where should they go first? Mason started towards Stan and Mabel met him halfway. They put their heads together, whispering and glancing over their shoulders occasionally to look at Stan or Ford. Stan pulled at his collar a bit, suddenly feeling nervous about the twins conspiring together. Ford was fairing no better, still gathering himself after the horrid recreation of his nightmare. The one that nearly broke him. The one that would have broken him if Bi-Sta…he hadn’t muted it. He wasn’t stupid, and had picked up on Ford’s anxiety immediately. Stanford prided himself on his ability to control his fear, but the kids were a whole different matter. He would always be fearful for them. Always.

It grew eerily silent, save for the breeze rubbing the grass blades together. The younger Pines twins had stopped talking and were now glancing back and forth between their Grunkles. Neither Stan, nor Ford had yet noticed, too wrapped up in their own heads. The twins glanced at each other and nodded, Mabel clearing her throat to gain attention.

“Decided yet?” Stan asked nervously. He wanted to get this thing started, he wanted to distract himself entertaining the kids, he wanted Ford to stop being so uptight; they were in the mindscape, there wasn't anything he could actually do to anyone here, even if he wanted to. It was talking nearly all of his concentration to make sure they were all on the same wavelength. He didn’t even think he could alter memories at this point, again, not that he wanted to. He wanted to show his brother that he wasn't going to hurt the kids, that he wasn’t going to hurt Ford, that he just wanted them to be happy, together.

“Animation Land Studios World!” Mabel’s shout might’ve actually shook the ground. Stan cocked his head at the unexpected request. Anywhere in time and space, anywhere in existence, even other dimensions, and the kids wanted to go to an amusement park. Albeit a very expensive and world renown one that most people sat on a waiting list of nearly five years to get a ticket, but still, an amusement park.

“Ok, you want the whole thing? ‘Cause that might take a while, that place had got more square acreage than the forest around Gravity Falls.” Not that he couldn’t do it, just, they might get to the edge and it might take some extra time to load. Real life lag. Or, ya’know, close enough.  

“Actually, we just want the Lightning Zapper Thrill Seeker. Mabel and I have always wanted to see if we could handle it. It’s supposed to go like 0 to 80 in eight seconds.” Both kids were giddy.

“A competition, eh? I suppose I could oblige ya. And ya can’t have a park without extra greasy and covered in sugar carnival food! Alright! I think I got it!” he said, cracking his knuckles.  

Stan clapped his hands and rubbed his palms together. He adjusted his posture, standing tall. His face closed, intense, and focused. In a few short moments, there was a stranger standing in front of them wearing Stan’s skin. He looked, well, like one of the guys on Mabel’s romance novels. It was freaky how just a subtle change could make such a huge difference. Stan sighed, faltered, and grimaced.

“Ah, kids, um…Ya, ya’know what happens, when I, ya’know, do stuff, right? I know Ford’s told ya, but, well, I know ya haven’t seen it fer yourselves yet. And, I didn’t wanna freak ya out, or nothin’.”  

Mable frowned. They knew, but Stan was right, seeing it in person (well, close enough) was something else entirely. Mason brushed the back of Mable’s hand with his own and she took the hint, interlacing their fingers loosely. Their heard Ford step up behind them.

“It’s ok. We know. Thanks for the warning though.” Mason nodded in agreement.

Stan sighed again, air pushed out between puckered lips as he closed his eyes and steadied himself. They waited a beat, then two. The ground began shifting, the dirt and sand grains vibrating away as asphalt rose from below. The giant grass and mushrooms faded in an out of clarity, pulsating out of existence. Stan’s eyes snapped open, they were bright yellow, elongated pupils. Mason felt Mable’s hand cling tighter to his; Ford bracing both teens with a hand to their backs.

It was different in person. So much different. Mason’s subconscious was screaming at his to ‘Run, get out, get away!’, but he held his ground. Mable and Ford helping to ground him. It was Bill. Except, it wasn't, and as the scenery changed around them, Stan’ eyes changed too. With every blink his eyes grew white, irises forming and pupils curving into perfect circles. With the last blink, the last trace of yellow, the ground stopped vibrating and they stood in the middle of Animation Land Studios World, right at the start of the line the eighth wonder of the world itself; The Lightning Zapper Thrill Seeker, the world’s fastest and tallest roller coaster.

The shock from seeing Stan perform magic wore off quick a Mason and Mabel jumped up and down and raced to the front of the line. Why, not, there was no one here, not even park attendants. Stan wobbled in place a moment before regaining his balance.

“Hey, wait up!”

The twins paused climbing into the front seat of the coaster to see a young boy, maybe their age – maybe a year or two younger – wearing a red and white striped shirt and jeans ripped at the knee. His left cheek sporting a band-aid, and a missing tooth. He jogged up to the twins and took a seat behind them, shouting, “Hey Poindexter, you gonna sit this one out?”

Ford muttered something that was lost to the distance between them and started a much slower and dignified pace to the coaster.

“Oh, come on, old timer! You can change. Or at least run!” The boy shouted at Ford, who continued his slow pace. The boy sighed, turning to the twins and mumbling, “Older brothers, right?”

The twins blinked in unison. “Stan?” Mable uttered the question Mason was having trouble articulating.

“The very same. Who’d’ya think it was?” The now confirmed Stan put out his hand ready to offer a greeting. “Heya.” Mason frowned this time, eyeing the child hand that started to flicker with blue fire. Stan shook his hand and arm to put out the flames and tucked them behind his head. “Yeah, well, we know each other already, so no introductions needed. ‘Bout time!”

Ford had just stepped up beside the stationary carts, arms crossed disapprovingly at Stan’s choice of form. After a few tense moments of the older twins eyeing each other, Ford stepped onto the coater beside Stan and flipped the safety bar down.

“Woohoo! Alright, let’s get this party started!” With a wave and blink, the safety harnesses slid and clicked into place and the bars dropped down. Mason and Mable were jittery and practically vibrating in their seats. The carts jolted and began the slow assertion to the top. A click every second, the cart shuttering every three seconds, the ground slowly fading away below them. Stan was starting to have second thoughts about this. He wasn’t completely cured of his fear of heights. The higher they went, the lighter and lighter his head felt. Every moment it seemed like they would stop, but it kept going, higher and higher and higher. Stan kept moving the clouds higher to make it seem like it was shorter than it was, but Mabel was too strong and materialized an airplane flying below their point on the ramp. Stan gulped and grabbed at Ford’s hand instinctively. Ford raised and eyebrow at the contact, but had no time to react. They crested the top and paused, the carts teetering on the precipice. All four held their breath as the front carts tipped forwards.

Mason was wrong.

It hadn’t gotten to 80 miles per hour in eight seconds.

It did it in four.

They slowed down a bit in the corkscrew, but gained momentum in the curve before the tunnel.

Wendy’s hat had grown hands and clung to Mason’s head like a cat to the ceiling.

Mabel’s hair wrapped itself into a tight braid to keep from catching.

Ford squeezed Stan’s hand and kept his eyes closed save for a few scant moments when they went upsidedown.

Stan could not actually lose his lunch, for multiple reasons, but his body felt like it was trying.

When they finally pulled back into the station and the cart slowed and stopped with a jerk, Stan let go of Ford’s hand.

Stan was heaving and swallowing down the urge to vomit.

Ford was staring at the underside of the station roof, trying to quell the sudden onset of dizziness. The twins were distressingly quiet. The next words uttered almost made Stan want to cry.  

“Again!” Mason and Mable called out in unison.

“NO!” Both brothers called out, but their pleas were ignored and the cart left the station.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

They rode the thing three times. Ford would refuse to ride another roller coaster ever again and Stan was feeling uneasy about the spinning coffee mugs ride. Stan didn’t want to be the ‘Old Foggie’, but he sat out of some of the more ‘high energy’ rides. They got hot dogs and corndogs and Stan and Mabel shared an elephant ear and got into an argument over whether it was called an aforementioned elephant ear or fried dough. Either way, they got cinnamon and sugar everywhere and Mason suggested the Splash Zone as the next ride.

Ford’s fluffy hair did not survive the Splash Zone.

Upon Mabel’s request, and Mason’s shy additions, Ford reluctantly changed form, sporting a white t-shirt, patched bomber jacket and corduroy pants. It was easy to keep up with the kids after that. He even had fun on the spinning swings.  

They wound up at the games corner and Mable was hitting bullseye after bullseye and winning prize after prize. The twins each hat a pair of inflatable, oversized boxing gloves and were playfully punching at one another. Ford had a balloon animal hat sitting atop his head and carried something that looked like a hamster in a business suit. Stan was collecting a bear with fairy wings and wand from the counter when Ford mentioned Dimension F-98/β.

It was a dimension where, instead of humans, all types of animals had evolved and gained sentience, built communities, cities and metropolitans, all living and working together. Mabel jumped at the chance to see it, Mason not far behind. With a few ground rumbles and eye blinks, they were standing in the main square of the major metropolitan city.  It was almost like New York Times Square if it had more curved architecture, more bright colors and more greenery. Plants of all types hung from the windows of the buildings and trees grew along the sidewalks. Animals of all different sizes walked or drove or rode variations of bicycles up and down the busy streets. Mable was frantic and followed behind each creature as it passed, imitating them to the best of her ability. A giraffe skateboarding, a water buffalo body builder, tiny gerbil business men, a gecko delivery boy, a duck couple corralling their eight ducklings, a snake zig-zagging his way through the feet of other animals and clutching a briefcase by his tail, frog men being bussed in as tourists and communicating via some language that consisted of more vowel sounds than there ought to be.

Mabel’s antics had Stan and Mason nearly rolling, even Ford found it in himself to smile. They located a city directory and Ford explained the layout of the city. Each district was divided based on climate and the sub-districts based on the major populace; savanna, arctic, rainforest, dessert, and a centralized urban area for non-specialized animals. Sub-districts in each major district were specialized for size and species differences. The rain forest district had a large area to the north reserved for insects and amphibians; the city and structures being built to accommodate tiny insect families. Suburbs lied to the outskirts for community based species like rodents and baboons, and the tops of the buldings were covered in trees and greenery and perches for the flight bird population. The ocean held another entire civilization, with fish and sea-bound mammals as the core populace. Coral reefs acted as telecommunication lines with one coral polyp sending a message to the next polyp down the line.

They used the tube system to travel to each of the major districts. They swung on vines in the rainforest, getting soaked in the process and dried off in the hot desert district. Mason and Mabel got into a sand fight and ran with a group of camel joggers that were eager to talk to the twins. Stan shoved a handful of sand down Ford’s shirt while he was distracted watching the kids. Stan paid for it when all three built him into a snowman in the polar district as a group of teenage penguins watched and laughed. They left his eyes and nose clear of snow, but shoved a carrot in his mouth to act as the snowman’s nose. Some passing snow leopard snapped a picture and they made it into the paper. The transit to the savanna district was closed for gazelle migration.    

They stopped in to talk to the mayor, a capybara by the name of Richard Waterhog, whom Ford had the pleasure of befriending when he had traveled through. Dream or not, it was proper to visit old friends, especially ones that pardoned you for stealing bananas. He’d been so hungry, and hunting was out of the question in a world where animals were sentient.

It was so strangely real that Ford wondered if Bill had tapped into Richard’s mindscape too, but once the mayor agreed to let Mable ride him like a horse, he knew it was a dream. Richard detested walking upon his front appendages, he was dignified after all. Well, he was until he had a few drinks anyway. Ford remembered the founder’s festival less than fondly. After three rounds, Richard turned into a raging flirt and had suggestively asked Ford to ride him. Ford had sputtered and politely refused, desperately citing the difference in their species would make copulation difficult if not impossible. Richard had laughed it off and bought Ford another drink that smelled of timothy hay.  

Ford could feel Stan giving him a hairy eyeball look after remembering his interactions with Richard, and he refused to answer Mason’s questions as to why he was blushing. Richard had insisted on a rather overly friendly hug from Ford as they left, and there was no doubt that it was Bill’s doing. Can’t read our minds, my ass!

Stan was barely keeping it together, face contorting every which way to not laugh, and Mable gave him a thumbs-up and a look she was way, way too young to be throwing him. He was never going to live this down. When Mabel tried to engage him in conversation “Hey Grunkle Ford, that Guinea Pig guy seemed to really like you”, Ford immediately changed the subject and started discussing the complexities of building a civilization underwater with Mason. Mable and Stan shared a quiet chuckle at Ford’s red face; Mason noticed, but decided his uncle’s business was private.

It wasn't long after that both younger twins expressed a desire to explore an underwater city, so another few blinks and they were on Elcoris 4, a planet in dimension A412 that was 90% water and the denizens had adapted to building underwater. They were humanoid with pale blue, speckled skin, webbing between their fingers, toes and attached to their arms and legs. They communicated via sonar, but could speak above water. A few flicks of Stan’s wrist and the four of them each had a bubble of air around their heads and flippers attached to their feet.

They swam in and out of buildings, kelp forests and into the drop-off of the continental shelf. Their guide, a man whose name Stan didn’t like and had instead called Drew, warned them of the drop-off and the potential for sea serpents. He warned that the deeper they went in the planet, the larger and more aggressive the monsters became, warning that if they went too deep, they would find a lava lake with a fire breathing dragon.

So, naturally, Stan gave them all depth suits and they went off searching for sea monsters. And sea monsters they found. In the darkness they came across a serpent like thing with bioluminescent jelly like tentacles protruding from its head, the mouth just a hole with concentric rows of teeth. They found a squid-like creature with pincers instead of tentacles. Mason spotted what looked like a cow in the distance then turned out to be a jelly blob that could turn into anything, save for a few differences like a badly made knock-off.

They made it to the lave lake, and saw the fire – rather superheated plasma as the water was not conducive to fire (but Ford wasn't going to hold that against a population that lived most of their lives underwater) – breathing sea dragon that was easily ten times their size. It was only slightly unexpected when Stan accidently teleported them back to the main city when the beast turned towards them. Nothing could hurt them here, it was a dream, but Stan’s protective nature was instinctual.

They spent the next hour discussing how something like that could survive down there with little to no food source and both twins again expressed desire to know about Ford’s multi-verse travels. He regained them with some of his tamer escapades such as the M-dimension and the time he got into a fight with a sofa and he, with great reluctance, showed the younger twins the ‘All-Star’ tattoo still on his neck even in a child form. He was careful to not mention his other markings.                      

At the end of the day – or night – the four found themselves on Glass Shard Beach. The iconic swing set from Stan’s mindscape was fixed, and had extended to accommodate four people. The dock in the distance bordered by both incarnations of the Stan O’War, and the StanleyMobile parked somewhere in the sand lot behind them.

The memories at the swings were so ingrained into each brother that they hadn’t realized they had changed until Mabel squealed in delight. Ford, startled and reaching for his side arm (that wasn't there) turned to Mable only to realize he now had to look down at her. Which, under usual circumstances was normal, but he had gotten used to being her height all day. Her eyes were wide and shining and her hands pressed into her cheeks. “Grunkle Ford! How come you never told us you were such a hottie!”

Ford sputtered, blushing for what seemed like the millionth time that day, and scratched at the back of his neck while avoiding eye contact. He was wearing the yellow v-neck from that night on the beach. Stan stood behind the younger twins wearing that damn white t-shirt, hair slicked back and acne scars. Stan just shrugged and mouthed ‘Sorry’ as he sat down on the swings. Mason turned in the sand and joined him, pausing only a moment to take in his uncle’s teenage form. Ford distracted Mable by promising to push her and they spent a good twenty minutes just laughing at how high she could get.

Mason and Stan got into a sand kicking contest and wound up losing their shoes in the process. They fell into play wrestling when Stan tried to give his nephew a noogie, over shot the lunge and landed in the sand with Mason sitting on his back.

This is what Stan wanted, all he ever wanted. He wondered if maybe he and Ford could find the fountain of youth somewhere and get some more time. More time to play with the kids, more time for days like this – when if they ever made it back to port – more time for games and stores, more time for them to be a family again. Stan lost all desire to put the boy in a head lock and instead gathered Mason up and hugged him tightly; sat in the sand and resting his back against the strut of the swing set. Ford had stopped pushing Mable to watch them, but now both he and Mable turned their attention to the sunset.

It was so achingly familiar, sitting in the evening air, feeling the bay breeze wash over them. Listening to the waves roll in, bringing in sand and cobbled to tumble the broken bottles into beautiful pieces of beach glass. They used to collect it for Ma, spending hours combing the fresh shards for that one smooth and polished piece. She made them into jewelry sometimes; Ford remembered Stan had been given one as a child that he wore proudly until some asshole kid called him a girl for wearing jewelry. Stan had always been…well, fighting himself in his pursuit to be manly.

Ford remembered Stan going through his wardrobe one day before the school year started and pulling out all of his favorite shirts – the ones he had to beg his parents for and who only relented because they were cheaper than anything else – and throwing them in a donation box. Pink, yellow, baby blue with little flowers embroidered on the collar, a purple one that said ‘free hugs’ (that was Stan’s favorite). They all went. It left him with not much else besides white t-shirts and a mustard yellow jacket. Stan had also tossed in the jewelry he had accumulated. The only thing he kept was a gold chain and pendant that Ford had bought for him; it was thick and heavy and was masculine enough for him to keep.

Pops had made some comments that week about the ‘Gays’ parading around in broad daylight. “They go around dressed like women, wearing make-up and hanging off each other like they ain’t committing sin. Like they ain’t sick.” Ford had seen Stan’s posture tense. The next day, he donated a bunch of old stuff to the shelter down the street, saying it was much too old to even try and re-sell in the shop. Ford, thankfully – though unfairly – never felt the need to do the same.             

He was jostled out of his depressed ruminating by Mabel standing from the swing he was holding onto and striding over the sand to reach Stan.

“I’m sorry.” She said, head hung low and voice full of remorse.

“What in the world for?” Stan nearly snapped, bewildered at the unprompted apology that seemed to come from nowhere. Mason, still sat in Stan’s lap frowned a moment before understanding dripped over his face like water. The boy took hold of Stan’s hand that was wrapped around his middle.

“I…I didn’t know if I could love you anymore. Knowing what you’ve done. But you did all this for us, even though you can’t be with us on Christmas. You didn’t have to, there was nothing in it for you, but you did it anyway because you love us.” Her eyes were wet now, and she was nearly pleading.

Ford felt Stan take hold of his mind while he poked and prodded at the memories of the younger twins. They saw the discussion between them, the theories, the fear, the guilt and the unknown. Could the kids still love Stan even if he was Bill?

“I wouldn’t say that. I got somthin’ out of it. I got to see you kids.” Stan shifted and knelt in front of Mabel, placing his hands on her shoulders to look her in the eye. He was Bill?

“I know things are…different now. I don’t blame you for feeling or thinking the way you did, or still do. I know I…scared you…before. I’m sorry.” Mason took one of Stan’s hands and squeezed. Stan was Bill?

“But hey, we can do this again, just give me a few weeks to rest, ok? This takes a lotta brain power.” Stan was BILL! How could Stanford have forgotten? This whole time? And Bill was taking control of his mind, their minds. This had to stop. NOW!  

“Bill, that’s enough!” Stanford’s words were like a blade slicing through the air.

Stan just looked at a spot above Mabel’s shoulder and sighed, the pain and sorrow dripping from his form. His hand fell limp and lifeless from Mabel’s shoulder, fingers catching on the sleeve of her sweater.  

“Yeah. Ok.” His eyes were downcast as he stood and took a step away from them. She could see he wanted to cry. Heck, she wanted to cry.

It was gradual, the change. His eyes glowed yellow again as he aged, like a movie and fast-forwards. It was hardly a ten count when the teen was left behind and the old and grizzled man that was their uncle stood before them. Grunkle Ford had changed as well, face pulled back into a look filled with anger and hate.

“Hey, it should be morning now. Should probably let you kids back, huh?” The beach was fading faster than they could process. They were falling, or being pulled away from the beach and their grunkles. Mabel looked back and saw a nightmare. Stan’s body contorted, growing in size, and taking on a triangular shape. Her vision blurred and he was jolting awake before she was able to register the voice that still haunted her dreams.

Was he Bill, or Stan? She thought she knew.  

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Chapter 1

#Whole Again #stancest #stanley pines #Stanford pines #stanowar #stanisbill #bill cipher #billisstan #billford #dipper pines #mabel pines #blatant zootopia refrence #subnautica reference #Ford is a clueless multiverse player

[wendip-week]

What Should've Happened In S1 E6

Dipper Looks over and sees the Manliness Tester)  D: Don’t worry guys, pancakes are on me. I’m gonna win some by beating that manliness tester.  S: Manliness Tester? M: Beating? (Stan and Mabel Burst out laughing) S: He says he’s… he says he… HA HA HA HA HA HA! D: What? What’s so funny? M: Oh, no offense Dipper, but you’re not exactly “Manly Mannington.” Ha ha ha! D: Hey, I am too “Manly… Manny” or whatever it is you said. S: Look, face the music, kid. You got no muscles, you smell like baby wipes, and let’s not forget last Tuesday’s… “incident.” Flashes back to Dipper in the bathroom wearing a towel and singing at the mirror with a comb as the microphone D: Disco girl…coming through…that girl is you… Stan walks into the bathroom. D: DON’T COME IN! DON’T COME IN!*Sprays Perfume in Stans Eyes* S: Aaaaaaaahhhhhh It Burns!!! Cuts back to the present. S: Man, My Eyes Really Hurt that day! M: You were listening to girly Icelandic pop sensation “BABBA”? D: No. Heh heh, I wasn’t. It’s not important. Look, come on guys, I’m plenty masculine. You see this chest hair?  (Brings down shirt, to show his chest and it shines very brightly) M: Put it away, put it away! S: So smooth! My eyes! D:Aw man… (Stan and Mabel Burst out laughing again) (Wendy Appears Elbowing Stan’s Neck, and Pinning Mabel’s Arms Back) W: To Mabel and Stan: You Bozos Better Treat Dipper Better Than. you Just Were, Or So the hell help me, I will call 911 and arrest you both, Understand!?!? *Stan And Mabel Nervously Nod Yes* D: O… Kay… Thanks Wendy, I Owe You One. W: No Prob, Dude, Now Go Up There And Win Pancakes For You And Me. D: Sounds Perfect *Walk to The Manliness Tester and Gets a ready, and just As he is ready, Manly Dan pushes him away, but In the sudden break, Wendy Bursts Out and Standing Up For Dipper* W: Dad!! (Wendy’s Eye Gets Wicked and Manly Dan Stops) Let Dipper Try First Or So The F*** Of Help Here I Will Tackle The Rudeness Of You, And Beat You Up Until You Play Nice! UNDERSTAND!?!? M.D.: *Shivering* O… Kay… *Picks Dipper Up Off The Ground* Sorry. D: It’s Alright. (Starts up and he makes it up to the third line and circle Which is just enough for him and Wendy) W: Alright Dipper! *The Bottoms Of Mabel and Stan’s Mouthes Were Flat On The Table In Shock* *Dipper And Wendy Walk Out Of The Diner Walk Out Of The Diner With Their Pancakes* D: Thanks For Standing For Me, Wendy W: Anytime Dude! *Wendy And Dipper Sit On A Log Close To The Lake As They Eat Their Pancakes, As they Finished, Dipper Fell Asleep as His Head Was On Wendy’s Belly Which Wendy Was Asleep As Well and Her Head Was Against The Log* D: I Love You, Wendy *Hugs Wendy and Falls Back To Sleep*  W: *Stops Snoring, Opens an Eye, and Smiles* I love you too, Dude. *Hugs Dipper Back and Falls Asleep*

“The End”

#Wendip #Wendy Corduroy #Dipper Pines #Gravity Falls #submission

[fuckyeahgravityfalls]

Q&A Transcript with Alex Hirsch at MomoCon 2017

Question: Before you decided to make Bill the main bad guy, did you have another character in mind that would have been the villain? 

Alex: Yeah, um that's a good question. Uh, so, when we came up with the villain of the show, I knew that... I knew that Bill was involved. And I knew that Ford had disappeared due to some deal gone wrong with some villain next to the mystery of how Gravity Falls was all assembled. 

Um, but, I didn't yet decide that Bill was that character in the very beginning, y'know? I had always imagined it was some sort of evil character somewhere kinda hidden in the woods. I wasn't sure I could go with the Bill idea cuz I thought it would be too much like Twin Peaks, but as we got further along the series we discussed it among the repairs and we were like, 'none of our other villain ideas were as good.' Bill, Bill was weirder than anything else we thought of. Um, I remember there were other ideas. Strange monsters and government officials; some kind of cthulhu-- some weird crazy old man. But nothing was ever better than Bill, so it ended up sticking. Probably somewhere around, y'know, season one-- midway through season one, we started thinking we might be-- might be on point.

Q: Was Grunkle Stan ever aware of McGucket’s connection to his brother? 

 A: Oh, oh that's such a good question. Wait, let me think about that for a second... Uh... lemme see... I don't think so. I don't think Stan was ever aware of McGucket's connection to his brother. Because, by the time Stan traded identities with Ford, uh... McGucket had already gone off the deep end-- Was already y'know, had already created the Society of the Blind Eye; had already lost his own memory. So Stan would've really only known McGucket as a local obnoxious fisherman. 

And McGucket, probably somewhere deep in the back of his mind, was eerily just drawn to Stan in a way he just couldn't put his finger on, because he thought maybe he knew him, but-- I don't-- I think Stan was ignorant of that. Um, I think Stan... I think Stan looking through the journals probably should've put two and two together, but Stan's not the best at book-learnin'. Uh, so... my guess is Stan wouldn't have known despite that uh, that there's a lot of tumblr art out there showing them as like the Scooby-Doo gang. I don't think Stan ever really knew McGucket before.

Q: What episode do you believe came out the strongest and the most well rounded overall? And is it the same as your personal favorite episode?

 A: Oh gosh. Um. That's a great question. Hmm... I probably feel, personally, that the strongest episode is uh, "Not What He Seems" just because it's such a dramatic episode. Like, we know-- We've never had an episode that dramatic. But, when we first pitched it to Disney executives... they thought it was bad. [laughs] Um, Because it didn't have a lot of jokes in it? Like, I remember normally when we're pitching our episode, executives can usually gauge how good they are by how much people laugh. People didn't really laugh for that one, because it's really tense. So we thought, maybe we'd screwed up. But, when the animation came back we were like, 'Oh! It's GOOD that it's tense. Like, it worked!' Um, So, I dunno if that's my favorite episode, but I think-- that's the episode we should've won an Emmy for, and I'm still pissed we didn't. [laughs]

In terms of favorite episode, like... I dunno. I think the first episode that I really felt that the show was really starting to feel the way I wanted it to-- "Time Traveler's Pig" in season one. Like, that was an episode where Dipper had an interesting story, and Mabel had an interesting story, and uh, felt nostalgic, and based around the summer, and had a big secret callback to even previous episodes, so-- I just remember when we first just got that episode back in color, I was like, 'hey I think maybe I like how I'm making this cartoon show,' so I think that has a particularly fond place in my heart, y'know.

Q: Is Disney bringing you to SDCC or NYCC later this year to promote the journal and other books coming out? 

 A: Right, um, yeah, Disney-- Disney... Disney-general and me, have like-- we're divorced. Like, they kept the house, and the pets. Y'know what I mean? It's... we don't like get dinner or anything. But, the Disney Publishing department, separate from Disney Television, they're really cool, and enthusiastic, and energized. And they wanna make new cool stuff. Um, so I think it's possible I might be at D23 this year, and it's possible I might be at Comic Con, but I don't have anything confirmed yet.

Q: In the scene where Bill is trying to convince Ford to join him in the Fearamid, were there any other jokes or story beats that were considered? 

 A: Which episode specifically are you talking about? [Q: The We'll Meet Again scene.] Yea yea yea, We had a-- Every scene that you've ever seen in the show has a ton of ton of stuff we've thought of and had to cut for time or other reasons. Um, I remember there was definitely a version of that where Bill was a lot trickier. Like, he sort of more successfully lied to Ford about like: 'We're actually going to make the world a better place. Though I present myself as this chaos lunatic that's just my personality.' Like, 'here's ways in which we'll IMPROVE the universe.' 

Um, but it felt out of character. We thought it was much more like Bill to just draw smiley faces in oceans and eat the sun and just-- hope, that the force of his charisma could convince Ford that that was a good idea. But uh, I feel like-- I feel like Bill can be really really tricky when he wants to, but by the time Weirdmageddon showed up he's so impatient, and he's so convinced that he won, that he was no longer like, this brilliant chess master he used to be. He's like, 'alright let's do it! Do what I want or I'll eat your face.' Like, no more-- No more, like-- He wasn't as smart a tactician as he used to be, y'know?

Q: Was "We'll Meet Again" always the song you were going to use? 

A: Oh yeah, it had to be that. It was like... I think I'd just seen Dr. Strangelove recently around that time and it stuck in my head. It seems to me, if Bill has a taste in music, it would be, like, old timey music that ranges from either weird to obnoxious to obscure. 

Uh, Disney wanted me to cut it cuz it cost them a bunch of money to get the rights, even though it's so old, it still cost them money to get the rights. And I just... said, please. Over and over and over again. I would send an e-mail that just said, 'please.' And send another e-mail that said, 'please.' And I would send another e-mail that said-- Yeah. [laughs] Eventually I wore them down that they're like, 'alright we'll spend thousands of dollars.' [laughs]

Q: Are real comics coming? 

 A: You want comics? Would you read Gravity Falls comics? [Audience screams] [Alex leans his ear forward] [AUDIENCE SCREAMS]

A: It's a terrifying noise isn't it, Michael? I was at a... Gravity Falls gallery, and like, they didn't tell us how many people would show up, and it was like, THAT noise echoing from every corner. And uh like, I think I lost a year of my life. My hair started going gray, and it was like, 'oh my god, this is too much love! It's terrifying.' 

Comics. I would love to do Gravity Falls comics. Um, I have so many... One of the tough things about a half hour show like Gravity Falls is every now and then we think of an idea that we really liked, but it was too short for a half hour; 'oh that's only five minutes of story'-- Or it's too specific and weird. And so I have tons and tons of ideas of the show that y'know we'd like to explore this character, we'd like to show this secret, this storyline. So, I'd love to do comics. But, that's up to Disney Publishing, and I'm trying to convince them. So, hopefully, I'll have something exciting to announce in not too long.

Q&A with Stan and Soos

Q: Is Dipper adorable or manly?  

Stan: Dipper smells like baby wipes. Even if I cut off all my shoulder hair, and taped it to him, he wouldn't be 1/10th as manly I am.

Q: What would you do if Mabel told you she had a date to prom? 

Stan: I would... invite the gentleman over, have some coffee, tie him to a chair and interrogate him for 10 hours, and maybe throw him in the pit. [shrug] Hands off my neice, kid!

Q: What would happen if Soos met Giffany again? 

Soos: Oh yea, I recently downloaded this couple's therapy sim? Uh, I think she and I would have to talk about our issues and pass around a conversation pillow, and really work out these struggles. Cuz she's got some problems, dude.

Q: Soos, why are you so perfect? 

Soos: Yeah, uh, my grandma said that a whole bunch of doves flew down and formed the shape of a perfect angel over my crib. I dunno, dude I guess I was just born that way.

#* #momocon #Gravity Falls #Alex Hirsch #long post #interviews #trivia #behind the scenes

[andrewmoocow]

Fooly Falls chapter 4: Batter Up (originally posted on July 12, 2017)

It was another beautiful day in Gravity Falls, perhaps beautiful enough for a nice game of baseball. Yeah, this is the baseball chapter alright. Anyway, Haruko hit the ball really hard, much to the opposing team's shock as it flies out of the park and towards the sky. Everyone was busy comprehending what just happened as Haruko arrogantly thanked everyone while doing a little victory dance.

“Oy, she is just too good.” Stan complained as he, Dipper, Mabel, Ford, Soos, Wendy, Candy, Grenda, Pacifica, Robbie, McGucket and Waddles sat in the dugout. “I think that last one went into space.” Wendy added. “Wait a minute, why are we playing baseball anyway?” Stan wondered. “I came up with that Mr. Pines.” Soos answered. “You see, in many of the anime I watch, the characters would sometimes just chill out and play a nice game of baseball.”

Stan was still confused. “Yeah, but why baseball anyway?” he continued on.     ”Filler episodes dude.” Soos added. “I will never understand the shows that you watch Soos. Like that weird giant robot show. Why is it that our wimpy protagonist can't seem to choose between the hot-blooded blonde Russian girl, the heavy drinker or the blue-haired clone?”

“So you made up this whole team Mabel?” Dipper asked his sister, who was wearing a baseball-themed sweater with a gnome on it, as Stan and Soos continued debating. “Yeah, I even got a mascot and everything!” she replied pointing to a man wearing a gnome-themed costume dancing around the field. The mascot took his head off to reveal a rather normal looking man black-haired man with a smile on his face. “Great work there Tad!” she said to him. “She promised me bread.” he announced.

“Yes, thank you.” Haruko thanked as a gnome handed her a dollar bill. “You're welcome babe, you're a great help to the Forest Freaks.” the gnome replied with a Manotaur, a Gremoblin, a unicorn, a group of beautiful-looking blonde men in white and a Lilliputtian stood behind him. “Say, why are you so good at hitting anyway?” he asked Haruko. “I just have my ways Jeff.” she replied. “Good to hear that!” he exclaimed as he turned to another gnome with a bushy grey beard and unaligned eyes. “Make a note of that Schmebulock.”

“Schmebulock!” the other gnome exclaimed as he pulled a pen out of his beard and started scribbling on his hand. “Schmebulock.” he said. “Is Schmebulock all you can say?” the Manotaur asked looking at Schmebulock's hand. “Schmebulock.” he glumly replied.

“This is utter cockamamie balderdash!” Stan shouted from the dugout. “How is it that the Gravity Falls Gnomes, who have two old men with tons of fighting experience and a lumberjack's daughter who could kick ass, lose to a bunch of weirdos who don't know the first thing about baseball?”

“Maybe we need to bring out someone who knows his way around baseball.” Candy replied as everyone turned to Dipper. “Yeah, Dipper can help us win!” Grenda shouted. “I-I don't know guys, I'm not all that great at this game and Haruko is like crazy good.” Dipper groaned. “C'mon Dipper, we just need someone who can outmatch her.” Ford said putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Alright fine.” Dipper said as he picked up a bat and walked to home plate while his team chanted for him. “I'm going to die here Chutzpar, I just know it.” he mumbled to the Manotaur, who was serving as umpire. “Not gonna lie, I sort of agree.” Chutzpar replied.

Dipper readied his bat preparing to strike but he missed the ball. “STRIKE ONE!” Chutzpar shouted. The boy readied himself again, only to miss once more. “STRIKE TWO!” the umpire cried. He prepared to strike again, only to get knocked down by the ball. “Strike three, he's out!” Haruko exclaimed with a cheeky look on her face.

“Ooh, that's gonna leave a mark!” Wendy stated as Waddles carried Dipper back to the dugout. “You alright there, how many fingers am I holding up?” Robbie asked as he pulled out three of his fingers. “Well everybody, might as well admit defeat.” Stan bluntly stated as he got up to congratulate the Forest Freaks. “We can't give up just yet Stanley!” Ford said grabbing his brother's arm. “Look over there!” He pointed to Canti as he was picking up various balls from the field.

Soon enough, Canti was practicing with the Gnomes as Soos pitched. “Wow, he's actually pretty good.” Pacifica gasped in awe of the machine's skills until they all turned to notice Stan hunched over, his fingers locked together and his glasses suddenly shining. “This is it everyone, my secret weapon!” he proudly proclaimed.

As they all cheered, Dipper walked away with a stoic look on his face back to the Shack until he turned to Haruko standing over him. “That bandaged head look kinda suits you.” she said. “C'mon kid, it's a compliment.” Dipper, as usual, wasn't buying it. “Does it really matter anyway? Like I said, I'm not good at baseball.” he replied. “Quit lying kid!” she exclaimed as she held her bass aloft. Dipper winced, thinking she was going to hit him again, but instead she put it down and got on her Vespa.

“Anyway, nothing's gonna happen unless you swing the bat.” she said as she rode off, leaving Dipper to contemplate her words. “Oh yeah, forgot to tell you much earlier Dipper, but my parents got a new Medical Mechanica factory here.” Pacifica said walking up behind him. “Are you okay there?”

Meanwhile in another part of town, Commander Amarao had rolled in on a Vespa with Kitsurubami, Powers, Trigger and a few other agents behind him. “Well men, this is the place.” he said. “Fan out, I want the Vespa Woman brought to me by tomorrow.” he ordered to the others.

“SIR YES SIR!” they all replied as they spread out across the Oregon town. Amarao did so himself as he tackled a man with a goatee wearing a red flannel shirt. “You there, what do you know about a pink-haired girl with a yellow scooter and 4001 Rickenbacker?” he inquired. “A Rickenbacker, like the one Paul McCartney has? Or was it John Lennon?” the man replied as he took notice of his interrogator's eyebrows. “Those eyebrows....”

“Don't you befuddle me with your Beatles trivia, where is she?” he demanded. “Oh yeah, I think she's hanging around the Mystery Shack.” the man answered as Amarao dropped him to the ground. “Thank you good sir, now have a nice day.” The agent then got back on his scooter as he rode away. “I guess he must be a fan of the rock that looks like a face rock.”

“Hey everyone, I'm back.” Dipper announced as he walked back into the Shack's living room to find Haruko, still in her baseball uniform, twitching uncontrollably as Stan gave her a massage while Mabel looked on. “Oh hey kid, caught us at an awkward time. Dinner's in a bit.” Stan said as the girl started moaning. “Oh, it hurts! Not so rough!”

“What are you doing?” the young mystery solver asked as the moaning got louder. “Oh yes, your gristle is like baby lamb wool!” she screamed. “Old people massages are actually pretty good, don'tcha think?” she asked Dipper blushing. “You really stink, you could just change into some clean clothes.” the boy said as he walked away. “And yet I can't smell your sweat, wonder why? Oh, I'm too tired to even hold a fork!”

“Why were you playing for all those creatures anyway?” Dipper asked turning to her. “They gave me good money, thought it could help with the electric bill.” she replied before moaning again.

“Here Haruko, try some of this!” Stan offered her some eggs at dinner as he gulped down on some brown meat, squealing happily along the way. “Now this is what life is worth livin' for!” he exclaimed. “What are you even doing anyway?!” Dipper asked, thinking back to the Vespa Woman's first time at the Shack when she said that she needed him. “Y'know what, I'm going outside for some fresh air.” He walked outside as Stan, Mabel, Haruko and Canti watched. “Geez, what's with him?” Mabel wondered.

Meanwhile outside, Dipper sat down on the front steps thinking about what had just happened. Haruko had said that very night that she needed him yet here she was getting close with his great uncle. “Excuse me young man, is this place your home?” a voice asked. Dipper turned his head to see a red-haired man with large eyebrows and a pair of sunglasses standing before him. “And it's also a tourist trap?”

“No sir, me and my sister are living here for the summer.” the pine tree kid answered. “Then I guess you might know what I'm looking for, huh?” the stranger replied turning to him. “Those eyebrows....” Dipper said to himself looking at his eyebrows.

“I've heard intel about a man in a fez calling himself Stan Pines disguising as a gangster to break into a meeting of the Molehill Gang at Booby's. I'd like to speak with him.” the stranger politely said. “Sorry mister, my grunkle's busy but I do have something that might be of interest to you.” Dipper replied as he rushed back inside and came back out with the Firestarter in hand.

“I've been researching about an ancient being that once roamed this land and I think you might be interested.” Dipper started scrolling through the page as the man watched. “See, this man has once inhabited this land and got bored one day, so he made a deal with a dream demon known as Bill Cipher to gain ultimate power and wipe out his people.” He turned over the page to show the filled-in outline of Bill.

“I'm sorry kid, but this is all make-believe compared to what I've seen!” the man stated. “Listen, I'm looking for a girl with a Vespa scooter that's living here.” The young detective immediately knew what this man was talking about. “Oh, you mean Haruko? She's been living here as a maid, even though all she does is mooch off my family.” he said.

“So she's been hanging with you. That means she's addicted to you in a way.” the man said. “Listen, she's mad I tell you. Hopefully you didn't tell many people about her, cause then you'll think smart They'll find out what you're dealing with eventually.” Dipper put the parchment away in his jacket pocket as the man adjusted his shades. “Say, is there anything for sale here?”

“Thanks, I always wanted one of these.” the man thanked Dipper as he got on his scooter holding a fish covered in fur. “Anyway, older women can have an effect on you, so you better be careful.” The man drove away from the Shack as Dipper stood there watching while Stan and Haruko laughed wildly inside. “I got a bad feeling about this.

“So you're saying Haruko is hanging out with Grunkle Stan more despite the fact she said she needed you?” Mabel said when Dipper walked up to their room. “Exactly sis. I've been feeling that she's using us for her own agenda.” he replied. “And there was also this guy with really big eyebrows that knows about her somehow.”

“Wait, eyebrows?” Mabel said curiously. “Yeah, he came here looking for Stan and found me instead.” Dipper replied. “How big were they?” she asked. “Like really big. I'm pretty sure they're not ever real!” he replied. “Going off topic here, but is it okay if I call you Takkun like what Haruko does?”

“No.”

“Batting practice at sunset?” Haruko asked later that evening outside the gift shop. “Do you want me to be your coach?” she added as Dipper strolled away from her. “No, please.” he replied. “I can teach you how.” she said. “Just go away and keep doing crazy things with my uncle.” he replied hiding behind the totem pole. “We're in this together Pine Tree.” Haruko said as his grunkle's head dropped on the ground, much to his shock. Then suddenly, Mabel's head was behind him as well. “Your head is the only one that works Takkun.” she stated as she held the boy's head in her arms and then back on his body. “You'll hit a homerun soon. Promise.”

Later, Dipper stood outside holding a baseball bat with Haruko watching him. “Yeah, that's the right stance.” she said. “Buuut, you have to swing the bat!” Just then, Ford walked outside all bleary-eyed and his hair very unkempt. “Pardon me for being rude kids,” he said. “but what are you doing at 3:00am?”

“She's helping me with batting practice Ford.” Dipper replied before Haruko laid herself all over him. “Hit it into the sky, don't hold back.” she continued. “Before he swings the bat, a real slugger imagines an arc inside his heart, arching directly to heaven.” She took hold of the boy's arms and made him point the bat towards a flickering star. “I think that star would make a great target.” Ford said. “Yeah, but why is it blinking like that?”

Meanwhile in a secluded part of town, the agents had made their temporary base in an abandoned house with Kitsurubami, Powers and Trigger supervising them. “Alright, put it up on screen.” Powers ordered as the image changed from static to a large satellite circling the Earth. “Kitsurubami, analyze.”

“It's been ten hours since impact.” she announced. “We have experienced a total loss of control after it caused irreparable damage to sectors six through eighteen and displaced all three antennas including the spare.” As she continued explaining, the image of the satellite was enhanced until a baseball was spotted within it. “It made a quantum leap into the central processing sector and scored a direct hit on the core unit. This is Satellite Geo-Saki, it's proceeding with its self-programmed attack.”

The three government officials turned towards their superior Amarao examining the fur trout he received from the Mystery Shack. “Is everything alright Commander Amarao?” Trigger wondered. “It's nothing, I just can't help but wonder what fur this is supposed to be from.” Amarao replied handing the fish to the three. “I have a feeling it might be from some kind of grizzly bear.”

“Those eyebrows.....” the agents and lieutenant thought. “So when's it gonna fall?!” their superior exclaimed. “Commander, sir!” a scientist exclaimed rushing into the room before standing in attention. “We have good news on the statue of Diamond Brandy you have told us about!” he stated.

“Wait, Diamond Brandy?” Kitsurubami wondered looking at the scientist. “Amarao has gotten word from a young boy staying at 618 Gopher Road that there is a statue of a powerful vampire wizard that we have dug up.” he explained to the others. “Good work Dr. Hubert.” Amarao thanked him before leading his companions to the lab. “Seriously, I still feel like we've been to that Gopher Road place before.” Powers whispered to Trigger. “Maybe we came there in like, another life or something weird like that.”

“So Stuart, how's the life goin'?” another scientist in the lab asked chatting with his partner as he turned on some UV lights. “Oh y'know Ken, my fiancee left me, my mom died, dad got deported, but I got a sweet car last month!” Stuart replied. Just then, Amarao, Kitsurubami, Powers, Trigger and Hubert stepped into the lab. “Commander Amarao, sir!” the two shouted saluting him. “So boys, how goes researching that statue?” Hubert asked stepping forward. “We seem to have uncovered something....peculiar.” Ken answered. “There is a hole on his forehead that only showed up when we collected it. Have a look-see.”

Hubert stepped forward, staring deep within the hole as an air of dread crawled all over him. Suddenly, a large drill popped out impaling him in his forehead. “He has a horn!” Stuart cried out in horror. “And he's waking up!” Ken replied. “Quick, bring out more UV lamps!” he ordered. “YES SIR!” The statue began to crack more and more until a hulking figure with long blonde hair was revealed underneath. Diamond Brandy was reborn and boy was he hungry. The drill began to rip apart many of the other scientists, coating the UV lamps in blood.

“I can't believe it, he's still alive!” Trigger screamed in fear as the vampire burst from his prison. “And he's using human blood to block out the light!” Kitsurubami added. As Diamond Brandy stepped down, he gazed at the remaining mortals. “Hm, it seems the world has changed quite a bit while I was asleep.” he said to himself. “Your modern technology proves no match for the last of the Pole People!”

“Stay back monster!” the armored security guards exclaimed as they charged into the lab, pointing their weapons at him. “Zuhohoho, feeding time.” Brandy chuckled to himself as time slowed to a stop. He waltzed around the guards like a flash of light to them until time was restored to normal, and that's when they realized his true power.

“Commander, my hands!” One of the guards screamed in horror as he laid eyes upon his fingers being locked together with a scientist's, along with all of the other guards and scientists. “THEY'RE STUCK TOGETHER!” they all shouted. “Someone, do something!” Amarao shouted before Kitsurubami fired her anti-tank rifle at Brandy, only for it to to fail as he grabbed the bullet in his hands and poked it, transforming it into a large cricket which hopped away.

“You won't get away with this you abomination!” a scientist hollered before Diamond appeared right before his eyes and jabbed his drill into his forehead, reducing him and the others into lumps of flesh. “I think it's time for a new look. Allow me to change into something more....comfortable.” the monster announced before telekinetically bringing forth the blood of his victims and making it surround him like a cocoon.

“Somebody, shoot him!” Powers exclaimed pointing at the blood cocoon. “We already tried that, and now looked what happened!” Kitsurubami shouted in reply pointing towards the giant cricket that was menacing Stuart and Ken. The cocoon suddenly burst open, revealing Diamond Brandy now bare-chested and wearing a long flowing red cape and white hakama pants. “Ah, so much better.” the demon stated proudly looking around before turning to the two scientists.

“Please spare us sir!” Stuart cried as he and Ken held each other close, quivering in fear. “We'll do anything to stay alive! Anything!” Ken added as a few tears appeared in his eyes. “Anything?” Diamond said stroking his chin. “I know. I will let you two live, but in exchange you will serve me for all eternity!” he exclaimed as he made his fingertips light up and he tapped the two on their foreheads. Their forms contorted wildly as they screamed in pain until their skin turned pale blue and their labcoats were replaced with clothing just as wild as their new master's.

“From now on, the mortals who call themselves Stuart Dooley and Ken Simpson are dead!” the monster proclaimed as they rose from the ground, smiling evilly. “In their place are my new minions, Stinger and Loggken!” The three of them struck a pose as the four government officials stepped away before running for the hills. “Don't think you can get away so easily!” the two newborn beasts chanted in unison before raising their hands skyward. “RIPPLE!” Just then, the old house started cracking like glass as it began to fade from reality.

“Wait a minute, they can warp reality?!” Agent Trigger exclaimed as they kept running for the front door. “That boy never mentioned anything about that in his paper!” Amarao replied. “Enough about some random kid, we have to run!” Powers and Kitsurubami shouted as they got closer to the door. They jumped out in the nick of time as the house caved in, falling into a hole in space before zipping itself closed.

“That was insane! My life hasn't been at that much risk since the Arcadia Bay case!” Trigger wheezed getting up. “Apparently these so-called Pole People are more powerful than we thought.” Kitsurubami replied. “They can use incredibly powerful magic to slaughter lower beings and have the power of mind control! What do we do now?”

The two then turned to Powers and Amarao looking off into the distance through the forest and at a hovel of a shop. “Easy.” Powers said. “We find someone who knows and can stop him. And we're also gonna need some new men and a new base.”

Dipper woke up in his bed to find Mabel cuddling Waddles in her bed but Haruko was nowhere to be found. “Where is she anyway?” he wondered as he walked down the stairs to search for her. He combed the entire house from the spare room that Ford was sleeping in to the kitchen where he found Canti washing dishes. “Hey Canti, have you seen Haruko anywhere?” he asked the Medical Machine, who shrugged in reply before returning to what he was doing.

“C'mon Haruko, where are you?” Dipper groaned as he got more tired. Suddenly a bright light coming from the vending machine caught his eye. Punching in the code, going downstairs and taking the elevator to the lab, he tiptoed around until he found Haruko playing with the Eyes of Heaven mask Ford told him about. ”What is she doing now?” he wondered before the gleam of the red jewel on its forehead pointed at his forehead, sending him into a frenzy.

“Just as I thought! 618 Gopher Road!” Amarao meanwhile declared in the forest. “Come along everyone, we got a world to save.” he proclaimed to his subordinates. “Eyebrows!”

The next day, it was time for baseball again as the Gnomes cheered for Canti when he stepped up to the mound.”Yah can do it TV-bot!” McGucket hollered. “Yeah, give 'em what for!” Candy added as they all started laughing. Meanwhile, Dipper and Wendy were sitting on the Shack's front steps discussing what happened yesterday. “So some government guys say that Haruko's a loose cannon?” Wendy wondered. “Yeah, he came to me looking for Stan and then he started talking about her when I showed him the Firestarter.” Dipper responded as Haruko pulled up in front of them on her Vespa.

“Hey, the game's already started you two.” Haruko said. “Are you just gonna sit around doing perverted stuff?” she asked. “We're not doing perverted stuff Haruko, you're just insane.” Dipper bluntly replied. “C'mon kid, today's the day you get to swing the bat.” the Vespa woman added. “I'm not sure Haruko,” Wendy said looking at her younger friend. “Dipper really isn't the type to swing the bat.”

“I'm not good at baseball.” Dipper said. “Ah well, it is Canti's first game after all.” Haruko replied. “Oh that's right, we got Lord Canti on our team now!” Wendy exclaimed getting up and sitting behind her on the Vespa. “See ya later dude!” she called to her friend as they drove off. “Have fun.” the boy solemnly replied as he walked back inside.

Back inside the shack, Dipper walked into the living room to a horrifying site, his great uncle lying dead on the ground with the TV smashed in beside him. “Oh my gosh Grunkle Stan, are you alright?!” he panicked. “Who did this to you, what happened here?! I'll call an ambulance!” Looking over what had happened, he heard a noise and turned around to find the elderly con artist sitting at the table surprisingly looking fine. “But, how?” the boy wondered. “What's the matter Dipper? You look like you've seen a ghost.” Stan said turning to his great nephew. “Is-is everything okay?”

“Naw, I'm fine kid.” the uncle replied. “It's just that Haruko and I have built a special kind of relationship over these past few chapters.” He turned to Dipper almost robot-like. “W-what kind?” Dipper asked again. “MOUTH TO MOUTH.” Stan replied in a creepy sounding voice as Haruko's head, now wearing mouse ears, popped out of his mouth. “MOUSE!”

“Because I need you.” Haruko's words began echoing throughout his mind as various images of Waddles chasing a tiny version of her played. “It has to be this way Takkun. That's how life works, sometimes you're the cat and sometimes you're the mouse.”

“She-she once ssssaid something about h-how she needed-needed you Dipper.” Stan started talking almost like a glitched-out robot as he walked towards Dipper. “Or something like thaaaaat.”

“STOP IT ALREADY!” Dipper finally yelled as he hit his grunkle in the head with the baseball bat he was carrying and breaking the TV as well. When everything returned to reality, the boy realized that he was the one that did it.

Meanwhile back at the baseball field, Haruko had scored another point for the Forest Freaks knocking out Canti along the way, once again to the shock of the Gravity Falls Gnomes. “Wow dudes, even with Canti we're still getting murdered out there.” Soos declared as McGucket, Grenda and Robbie examined their fallen teammate. “She's probably doing it on purpose just to screw with us.” Wendy responded. Just then, a siren sounded as Haruko turned her gaze skyward to notice a large dirigible flying over them.

“A state of emergency has been declared in Gravity Falls.” a voice declared. “All citizens evacuate immediately. I repeat, all citizens evacuate.”

“Dipper Pines, age 12, student of Eggbert Elementary School in Piedmont, California, brother of Mabel Danielle Pines, son of Alexander and Danielle Pines, great nephew of Stanley Danley Pines, whom for thirty years imitated his brother Stanford Filbrick Pines after he was lost in another dimension for thirty years. Prefers to keep his first name a secret.” Amarao spoke as he sat with Dipper in a dark room. “A few days ago, a mysterious woman calling herself Haruko Haruhara had taken up residence at your temporary residence of 618 Gopher Road. Y'know, a baguette would've hit harder.”

“Listen sir, I didn't intend on hurting my grunkle!” Dipper claimed. “He was already knocked out when I found him and suddenly he was sitting down at a table all in one piece! He then started talking about how he's really got along with Haruko and and and-” The boy started frantically hyperventilating when Amarao put an end to it. “Simmer down kid.” the large eyebrowed government agent said. “Here, have a drink.” He gave Dipper a cup of tea and started putting in a few sugar cubes. “Heard you're not a big fan of spicy things. I can relate.”

“Like I said, I didn't intend on hitting him! I was just really freaked out. But thanks anyway.” Dipper responded taking the drink. “I've only heard stories about Stan and his criminal record, from pug trafficking, con artistry across multiple states, llamacide, helping transport of illegal goods, etc.” Amarao stated. “But Haruhara is him times eleven. She'll manipulate anyone to her whim to help her achieve her goals. But here she is as the object of affection for you and your uncle.”

“Wait, are you implying that Stan might have the hots for Haruko?!” Dipper exclaimed spitting out his drink. “But he's pushing sixty and she's like 19 or something!” The boy was briefly taken aback by this revelation until he noticed he spat out his drink all over Amarao. “I am so sorry man, let me help you clean that up!” he stuttered trying to search for a towel. “No need Pines, I got it covered.” he replied pulling a napkin from his suit and wiping off his face.

“So you refer to Haruhara by her first name. Are you two close?” Amarao asked. “I'm not really a big fan of her.” Dipper replied. “She's your batting coach, right?” his interrogator added. “Kind of.” the boy replied. “Do you like her swing?” the older man continued on. “I told you, I didn't intend on it! Haruko has nothing to do with this!” Dipper responded. “Then why? Because you were jealous?”

Dipper was too embarrassed to respond. “I've got a big question for you, did she ever mention anything about the Galaxy Space Police Brotherhood or the Pirate King Atomsk?” Amarao inquired. “Make sure you don't tell anyone about our little chat because it's very important, that includes your family as well.”

“Okay, thank you sir. I didn't really get your name.” Dipper said. “I'm Commander Amarao of the US government's Department of Interstellar Immigration. Thank you for your time boy.” he replied, but Dipper was already too distracted by his eyebrows. “Eyebrows.” he mumbled. “What was that about my eyebrows squirt?!” Amarao barked. “Nothing.”

“A state of emergency has been declared in Gravity Falls.” the voice from the blimp continued later that day over the deserted town. “All citizens evacuate immediately. No need to run like hell, please proceed in an orderly fashion.”

Dipper had arrived home to find his great uncle's dead body yet again but now Waddles started sniffing it. “What is it Waddles?” he asked the pig, who oinked in reply. “You're saying this isn't the real Grunkle Stan?” he continued. “Then where is he?”

Waddles led his master's brother to the boiler room across from Ford's bedroom, which contained an unplugged Tumbleweed Terror machine, a television, mattress and more but the item that caught their eye was the trash can which let off a familiar smell. Taking off the lid, Dipper found nothing except the shriveled up body of Stan, stripped down to his underclothes, staring right at him.

Screaming as loud as he can, Dipper rushed his uncle to the bathroom where he tossed him in the bathtub and turned on the water. “C'mon Stan, wake up wake up!” he cried. During this process, he started seeing images of Mabel being hoisted into the air by Canti on the water tower.

“Check it out everyone, I'm king of the world!” Mabel exclaimed as the Medical Machine held her high. “I always wanted to do that, thanks Canti!” Just then, Haruko zoomed on her Vespa below them, much to her surprise. “What's Haruko doing in such a rush?”

Meanwhile back at the Shack, Dipper had brought Stan back to normal after dumping a few buckets of water on him. “Oy, what just happened?” the elderly con artist woozily asked. “And what smells like a dead body?” Dipper was too busy dumping water on him to reply. “I guess I wasn't good enough for Haruko. She asked if she could use my head and I was happy to oblige, but I guess I died for a bit.” That's when the child remembered some more words Amarao said to him.

“N.O uses the left and right brain's distinct thought processes to open up an interdimensional channel capable of transporting things, sometimes from lightyears away in an instant.” he stated. “But she can't use just anyone's head, you gotta find the right one.”

“Grunkle Stan,” Dipper said to him. “I think Haruko might be using us for her own plans, and she wants my head.” Stan, continuing to pour water on himself, agreed. “You might be right, Haruko is not your ordinary houseguest.” As if they spoke of the devil, the Rickenbacker babe barged through the door on her scooter and running over the other Stan, much to the two's surprise.

“What you encountered was a high-tech mannequin that was created to look like your great uncle.” Amarao continued. “The equivalent of a vending machine. When the chips are down, few people can really swing the bat. Right now there's a satellite carrying a bomb heading straight for this town. This evacuation is pretty much pointless since nobody will survive the impact. I want you to go home and tell her, tell her to swing one more out of the park. Tell her it's a request from a hometown fan.”

“Yo.” Haruko greeted the two as Dipper picked up the fake Stan's head. “What's with this robo-Stan anyway?” he asked. “Who are you really?” After a moment of blankly staring at the two, Haruko replied rather fabulously. “I'm an illusion of your youth, the manifestation of the feelings in your adolescent heart!”

“Where did you get that crazy line, one of Soos' anime?” the lad asked again. “Anyway, there's a satellite falling from Earth's orbit that'll kill us all once it reaches here.” Just then, Ford burst into the living room as well in a panic. “Dipper, thank goodness you're still here!” he exclaimed. “Listen, we have to leave immediately because a government satellite is falling from the sky and is headed for here! I think we should all move to Ontario and become doctor-lawyer-scientists!” He then turned his attention to what's left of the robot replica of his brother. “Not even going to ask.”

“A double header takes a lot out of you.” Haruko stated. “Tell the hometown fan it's going to be expensive.” Ford was uneasy about this. “Wait, she's going to help us stop that satellite? But she might just give up and leave us all for dead!” Stan on the other hand was angered by his smarter brother's words. “Listen you stupid genius, Haruko knows her way around this stuff so if you think she's still untrustworthy, then you can just do it yourself and be the hero everyone says you are!”

“Ugh, fine.” Ford groaned turning to her. “So what do you say, reluctant partners?” he asked extending his hands. “Reluctant partners Doc Brown.” she replied shaking his hand.

“I say we file a complaint!” Kitsurubami exclaimed as she, Amarao, Powers and Trigger met at the diner. Trigger was currently on the phone speaking with the government about replacement soldiers and a new base. “No, the satellite bomb was our secret backup plan in case of dire emergency.” Amarao responded. “We can't let it go public. She really is a terror, that Raharu.”

“Raharu?” Powers wondered as his superior pulled out a picture of Mabel and Haruko wearing matching sweaters. “Haruko Raharu.” he replied. “Her plan is to penetrate us, the foreign embassy and the Medical Mechanica. That's why she made this whole thing happen.”

“And she's willing to kill hundreds just to get her way.” Trigger thought getting off the phone as they spotted Haruko & Dipper on her Vespa with Stan and Ford driving close behind. “Those poor kids.” Just then, the waitress showed up at their table opening her closed eye. “So, any of you want something?” she asked. “We'll take four coffee omelets to go please.” Kitsurubami answered.

Dipper's forehead began blinking again as his pine tree hat flew off his head. “Whoa, I think there might be another robot coming!” he cried. “Don't fret kid, Medical Mechanica is just up ahead!” Ford responded pointing towards the factory. “Why the Jekyll does it look like a giant clothes iron?” Stan added.

“Whoa!” Mabel gasped as the satellite moved closer to the town. “Hey Canti, do you think that satellite looks like the Satellite of Love?” she asked her robot companion, who just shrugged in reply before noticing a red blinking light atop Medical Mechanica, and the girl noticed it too. “Hey, that must be Dipper!” she exclaimed. “But what's he doing up there? C'mon Canti, we gotta get over there!” The machine nodded as she hopped on his shoulders and flew off.

“Isn't this where it's heading?” Dipper wondered as he sat atop the robot plant. “By my calculations, this location would take the least damage.” Ford explained examining the current location of the satellite. “Thanks for being a nerd man, now here we go!” Haruko said as she placed a cloth around Dipper's head and started pressing on his scalp. “Hey, what're you doing to me?” he groaned as she started digging around. “Just hold still!” she said continuing on with her task.

“What is she even doing?” the Stan twins said in unison. “Ha, you owe me a beer if we survive! Ha, you owe me two beers if we survive! Now you owe me three beers!” they exclaimed. “Okay, I think we should-hey, quit saying what I'm saying!” Just then, Canti came flying in with Mabel on his head. “Hey everyone, what's up?” she called as he landed before them. “Oh, we're just trying to save the town from a satellite that's going to crash and kill us all!” Ford replied.

“Hey, I didn't know boys were this sensitive here!” Haruko stated as she continued with Dipper's head. “Please, stop touching me there!” the boy replied  before she began pulling out a red object. “Well what're you waitin' for, pop it already!” the Vespa woman struggled pulling on it. “If I rush, it won't pop! Please start going slow!” Dipper cried still groaning before she finally pulled out the object, revealing itself to be a Gibson Flying V. “What is that?” he asked gazing at it. “It's your 'bat'.” she replied. “Wait a minute, that's a Gibson Flying V!” Stan exclaimed. “Just like Albert King!” Ford added.

“Impressive.” Kitsurubami moaned as her nose started bleeding while the four government agents watched the event from afar. “Does Haruko really think that kid is going to save us all?” Agent Powers inquired. “Does everyone back at base have the lowdown?” Trigger spoke into his earpiece. “Positive Trigger, we have cameras all over Gravity Falls!” a female agent back at Washington stated, her nose bleeding as well. “Tracking altitude, now entering final descent!”

“Purge sequence initiate!” another bloody-nosed agent ordered as the satellite began falling apart and rocketing towards Gravity Falls, making the sky glow various colors. “It's entering the lower atmosphere!”

“It's getting closer everyone, get behind Canti!” Ford exclaimed as he, Stan and Mabel did so. “Now if you do it like I showed you, it'll be perfect.” Haruko said holding Dipper close to her. “It's okay?” he responded before they all turned to it. “Hey here it comes, keep your eye on it kid! Ready?” she exclaimed as the satellite got closer. “That boy is....” Kitsurubami exclaimed. “That kid will never pull it off!” Amarao finished her sentence. “Impact is imminent!” the woman back at Washington announced as the satellite turned into a giant hand and then immediately fell apart.

“What, but that's impossible!” Dipper exclaimed. “Haruko? Haruko!” He looked around for her but returned his attention to the giant machine headed straight for him. “It's spinning!” Powers shouted. “It's a sinker!” Trigger added. As the object, now turned into a giant sphere, got closer to Dipper, time somehow came to a complete stop followed by the sky around him shattering like glass as three figures flew down.

“Ah, I see the bearer of Atomsk's Horn is here.” the first figure wearing a red cape said. “And it's a little boy too!” the second one in a white haramaki sash added. “Who would've guessed?” the third with hair like fire exclaimed. “Wait, who are you freaks?” Ford exclaimed looking at the three. “No, that's impossible! He should be dead!” he muttered fearfully. “What're you talkin' about?” Stan asked. “IT'S DIAMOND BRANDY!” his brother screamed in horror. “Ah, at last somebody recognizes me.” Diamond Brandy pridefully announced chuckling. “And you must be the one who took my treasured mask.”

“I'll never hand over the Eyes of Heaven you heathen!” the scientist boldly stated glaring at Brandy's two new minions. “Listen to us old man, hand it over or we'll turn your flesh into a fine quiche!” the one in the haramaki sash cackled madly. “No, I think we should turn him into a fine stew.” the firehead rebutted. “Stews are for foolish mortals, I say we make him into a quiche!” his partner exclaimed. Before they could continue debating, Canti gave them what for by beating them both up. “I'm still saying quiche!”

“ENOUGH YOU TWO IDIOTS!” Brandy angrily bellowed before turning his attention to Dipper. “So you want to 'swing the bat', am I right?” he purred. “Uh, yeah.” the boy replied sheepishly. “Well then, allow me to help you. Stinger, Loggken, get over here!” The two rose up and floated over to their master, hugging each other as they began to glow. Eventually Brandy started glowing when he joined in on the hug and they all formed into a titan of insane power. “Now then, play ball.” the beast said as he flew behind the sphere and time restarted.

“SATELLITE SMASH!!!” he screamed as he pushed it closer to Dipper, who was howling in terror. “Takkun!” he finally shouted, which caused the symbol from chapter 2 to appear on Canti's screen again as well as his forehead. “Maybe when the chips are down, he's too scared to swing the bat.” Haruko said as she zipped down the building on her Vespa. “Depending on what happens here, to all the folks reading this, sayonara!” She said her goodbyes to the readers before noticing that all the lights turned on and shined incredibly brightly as Dipper struggled to hit the sphere being pushed by the fusion of Diamond Brandy, Stinger and Loggken when suddenly, his “bat” set on fire. “What?!” he exclaimed.

“It's pushing him back!” Kitsurubami shouted. “He swung the bat.” Amarao said. Dipper continued to struggle as the “bat” continued burning brightly. “Wait, is that....” the titan exclaimed as his form began to distort. “It can't be!” Just then, the sphere stopping spinning as it started pulsing. “Oh no, it's going to blow up!” Trigger exclaimed as it prepared to self-destruct. Dipper watched in horror as he prepared to meet his fate when suddenly, Haruko jumped into the air, Rickenbacker in hand and slammed it as well.

“NO.....NO!!!” the titan screamed before finally defusing, leaving Diamond Brandy to be launched into the air while Stinger and Loggken started glowing, somehow turning back into the scientists Stuart and Ken from earlier this chapter. The impact started shaking up the town something fierce, causing various small earthquakes as the sky reverted to blue and Brandy was propelled skyward, screaming along the way.

“I-I can't believe it.” Stan gasped in awe. “Dipper....” Ford added. “He finally swung the bat!” Mabel cheered as she ran out and hugged her brother. “You did it Dipper, we're all alive!” she cried before noticing that Dipper was rendered unconscious. “Think we should let him rest sweetie.” Stan said to his great-niece as he came to her side. “And maybe we should find where those two idiots should go.” he added pointing to Stuart and Ken, who were laughing wildly and hugging. “I can't believe we're still alive!” Stuart cried. “Thank you guys!” Ken thanked the Pines family. “Is there anything we can do to repay you?”

“How about we bring you back to where you belong?” Ford offered. “That'd be great! We work for the Department of Interstellar Immigration.” Stuart said.

Before anyone knew it, it was finally over. Haruko was driving back to the Mystery Shack on her Vespa with Dipper sleeping beneath her and Mabel clinging onto her back. Stan, Ford & Canti followed behind on the Stanleymobile with Stuart and Ken with them. “What'd I tell you Ford, she is pretty trustworthy.” Stan said to his brother. “Okay, you're sort of right about that, but I can't help but feel she's got bigger plans for us.” Ford said. “Diamond Brandy is now brought back to life and he knows about Dipper's horn. I think we should try and keep the kids safe from him at all costs.” The trickster didn't listen as he continued driving. “You're not even listening are you?”

“Hey, if you guys pass by a red-haired man with big eyebrows and his partners, they're with us.” Stuart said from the backseat. “In fact, they there are right now!” Ken added pointing to Amarao, Kitsurubami, Powers and Trigger standing on the side of the road. “Oh no, not those two guys.” Stan whispered. “Thankfully we wiped all their memories of your case, so we might be in the clear.” Ford responded as they exited the car.

“Greetings friendly neighborhood law enforcers!” Stan greeted them nervously. “Are these the nutty professors you're looking for?” he asked. “Yes indeed they are sir,” Powers answered. “last we saw of them, they've been brainwashed by a mad god-wannabe into becoming his minions and now, here they are.” The two scientists were happy to see their superiors again. “We really missed you guys!” Ken said as hugged Powers incredibly tight. “Please get off of me Simpson.” he groaned. “I think it looks like we need to take you two back to Washington for extensive rehabilitation.”

“We'll be back with more men, but you two are on your own from here on out. Good luck.” Trigger added as they walked away with the scientists, who waved farewell. “Thank you Ronald.” Amarao said before turning back to Stan. “I've got my eye on you Pines.” he coldly stated to the elder. Stan reacted by slowly stepping backwards before returning to the car.

As they all drove back home, Haruko looked down at Dipper before starting to laugh wildly. “Crisis report.” Amarao said. “All systems functioning online and normally. The satellite achieved escape velocity at gamma-four.” Kitsurubami replied. “Bomb neutralized, satellite en-route to galaxies unknown!”

“Drat.” Amarao grumbled as one of his eyebrows fell off, much to his companion's shock.

Meanwhile in the deepest recesses of space, the satellite drifted throughout the cosmos with Diamond Brandy still clinging on to it. “He has.....Firestarter.” he thought to himself. “He will.....BE MINE.” He cracked an evil smile despite being frozen from the cold of space, as he began concocting another plan.

Hey dudes, Soos here! Wow, only two chapters left and this'll all be over! Anyway, big shout out to a user named The Tell-Tale Man for being such a great reviewer.

Anyway, join us next time for Fooly Falls chapter 5. It's gonna be like a John Woo film, just you wait!

#gravity falls #flcl #crossover #fanfiction #fooly falls #dipper pines #mabel pines #haruko haruhara #canti #stanley pines #stanford pines #commander amarao #lt. kitsurubami #agent powers #agent trigger #diamond brandy