#dipper would be very attached to the hat thank you very much

[remynisce]

13 year old Dipper and Mabel designs

#gravity falls #mabel pines #dipper pines #rem draws #Mabel #dipper #just some outfits cause I’ve been thinking about them #dipper would be very attached to the hat thank you very much #and Mabel would range her fashion style to more than just sweaters cause I bet they get into even more adventures when they come back #and running around in sweaters has gotta make you sweaty!

[feferipeixes]

Child I Will Hurt You

One of the weirdest things to Alcor about being a father was how automatically Toby trusted him.

Which really freaked him out because he didn’t feel he should be trusted to raise a child. After all, he was practically still a child himself.

(See the most updated version on AO3!)

===

The thing that scared Alcor the most about raising Toby was how fully the boy trusted him.

He’d experienced and marveled at that kind of trust before. When Mabel found him after that fateful day in 2012 and threw herself at him, sobbing with relief that he wasn’t gone after all, he felt it. When Stan took him and Mabel into his home a few years later, patted him on the back and said “It’s no problem, kid”, he felt it. When he warned Mabel that he shouldn’t be trusted with the triplets’ true names and Mabel shouted him right out of his self-flagellation, he felt it.

The first day he brought Toby home after finding him alone and shivering on the street, he felt something very different.

Panic.

Panic over who the child in front of him truly was underneath that thin layer of flesh. Panic over what would happen if he didn’t stop whatever Bill was planning. Panic as he remembered Weirdmageddon over and over again in complete, horrific detail.

“Listen kid,” he said, floating a few feet off the ground so he could better tower over the child, “no funny business, okay? You hear me in there, Bill?”

Toby only cocked his head, scraggly and unwashed golden locks tumbling away from his face to reveal his scarred eye. He still wore the half-scared half-curious look he’d had when he’d first caught the demon’s attention, but there was something else bubbling up. Something that tasted suspiciously like trust.

It really freaked Alcor out because he didn’t feel he should be trusted to raise a child. Trust was something you gave to adults who knew what they were doing, after all, and he was practically still a child himself.

Alcor grimaced, and lowered onto his knees so he could look the boy directly in the eyes. “I mean it. I’m watching you. I’ll know if anything bad happens.”

To his surprise, Toby smiled at that. “You can make the bad things stop?”

“Yes,” Alcor replied, his voice cracking like it hadn’t in centuries because he was already messing this up, he was sure of it. “N-no getting into trouble. Not on my watch.”

The boy’s face lit up, trust shining brilliant from both eyes, and before Alcor could tell what was happening, Toby had reached up and hugged him around the neck.

And the demon remembered

Bill’s little pipe cleaner hands iron-clad around his neck,

Squeezing the life out of him,

Blue fire rushing all over his body,

Over and into his soul,

Screaming until there was no more breath left in him,

And the little boy’s smile radiated such trust and hope that Alcor was left completely speechless.

“Thank you,” Toby squeaked, and Alcor felt it.

---

“Oh stars, I can’t do this, I can’t do this!” Alcor was in his human disguise, head in hands, elbows resting on the counter, rambling like the world was ending. “I’m way in over my head. Raising a child? Me? I mean I looked after Mabel’s triplets but this is so different…”

“...Sir?” The cashier’s hand hovered over Alcor’s head, unsure whether it was appropriate or comforting to actually pat him. “Are you alright?”

“No!” he fumed, lashing out and knocking over some of his groceries. “I have a six year old at home and he trusts me to look after him and keep him safe! How could this possibly have happened?”

“Uh…” The cashier peered behind the man to the customers in line, most of whom looked some degree of disgruntled or confused. She gave them a little wave to indicate that they should probably move to a different register, and then turned back to the man who appeared to be hyperventilating now. “Do you have a partner? Anyone who’s helping you?”

“Of course not, I’m alone, I’ve got no friends,” he moaned. “There’s no one who I trust enough to foist Toby off to. The poor boy has such bad karma -- he needs me to protect him from that or he’ll get eaten alive!”

“Well… it sounds like you’ve got the right instincts at least. You want to keep him safe.”

“That’s just it! I don’t!” Alcor picked his head up and the cashier saw streaks of a strange yellow liquid running down his face. “Everything I’m doing for him is just stuff I picked up from watching my sister raise her kids! I don’t have any kind of adulting instincts -- none at all! I transcended when I was fucking twelve and that’s where I’ll be stuck until the end of time. I’m just a pointless child! I’ve got too much power and no actual ability to help anyone!”

The cashier sighed and -- after the man nodded to say it was alright -- put her hand on his shoulder. “Listen, man, all of that stuff sounds normal.” (Except for the parts that made no sense to her at all but she opted to ignore them.) “No one knows how to raise a kid, and no one ever feels like they’ve grown up. You learn it as you go. Trust me, my kids ran me ragged and I had no idea what I was doing. But they turned out alright. So will yours.”

Alcor’s voice began to wobble, and he pressed gloved hands to his temples. “But he won’t! I’m developmentally frozen. I’m not capable of learning anything! Seriously, what kind of adult buys this much candy?”

She glanced at his cart, which indeed was half filled with Giddy Cowboys and Sneakers bars. “That is a lot,” she admitted. “I would not advise giving your kid that much candy.”

“What? No.” Alcor stopped sniffling and pulled a face like he’d just smelled poo. “That’s for me. I’m buying all these vegetables and milk and chicken for Toby. He’s a growing kid, he needs to eat healthy, get all those food groups in, you know. I’m not stupid. But I am childish for liking candy so much that I’d eat this much of it in a week! I mean, seriously! Oh stars, I’m hopeless!”

The cashier lifted an eyebrow and removed her hand. “You eat all of this… in a week?”

“I know, I know, I’m ridiculous!”

“That’s not what I meant,” the cashier cut in, before he could start gibbering again. “I’m just worried about your teeth. Your… teeth…” She trailed off as the man suddenly yawned, exposing two rows of jagged knives that could sink into her flesh in an instant. “Your, um, your- your-”

Alcor pulled a mirror out of seemingly nowhere and started picking at his teeth. “What, do I have something in them?”

The cashier’s eyes widened even more as the man’s gloves came off. “My… what pointy claws you have…”

“Thank- wait.” Alcor froze, one long blackened nail still pressed into his gum. “Wait a minute. Pointy. Sharp. Cutting and slicing and ripping open oh stars!”

“Um- um- um-” the cashier tried to say, but with every word she felt like she was shrinking until she’d be swallowed up by her clothes. “Slicing?”

Alcor shook his head furiously, and this time his fist was positively trembling when it came down onto the counter. “I haven’t child proofed the knife drawer in the kitchen!”

He flipped his hat off of his head and pulled out a wad of cash, which he then thrust into the cashier’s hands just as her lights went out. Before anyone else could react, he vanished into thin air, taking his groceries and the shopping cart with him.

“I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before,” Alcor grumbled as he zeroed in on the offending drawer. He pulled it open and there they were -- obscene, dangerous implements that he was a wicked and cruel caretaker to have potentially exposed his child to. He couldn’t stop imagining what might’ve happened if Toby had tried to pull open the drawer and it had fallen on him -- couldn’t stop thinking about his little boy sticking his adorable hand in and receiving cuts and lacerations and awful, awful sobbing filling the house…

With a snap, child locks were in place. Alcor tested them out by trying to pull the drawer open -- and it took a few tries before even he was able to. Sighing with relief, he leaned against the counter and slid down to the floor. His feet bumped up against the shopping cart sitting in the middle of the kitchen, overflowing with Reece’s Mugs and Chortle Taffy and Quasarbursts.

He couldn’t do this. He was too irresponsible.

Alcor dug a hand into the cart and pulled out a candy bar. He sank his teeth into it, enjoyed the rush of sweetness that was almost as good as flesh and bone. Slowly he began to unclench his muscles -- even though his form was imaginary, the cramps shooting throughout his body still hurt. He slid down the counter a little further, almost letting his head touch the floor -- and then he noticed it.

The stairs.

Bolting upright, Alcor let the candy bar fall from his hand. The stairs. How hadn’t he thought about that before? What if Toby fell down and tumbled into the banister and lost his other eye? What if what if what if?

Not a minute later, the demon was wrestling with child safety gates, somehow struggling even with all of his considerable power just to get them to attach to the wall. At one point he tipped his jaw back and used his tongue to line the edges with spit, which then solidified like glue. The stairs had to be safe. He couldn’t risk Toby getting hurt.

And with that thought came even more thoughts that sent Alcor racing through the house. What if Toby slipped in the bathtub? What if Toby climbed on top of the fridge and couldn’t get down? What if Bill slammed his arm in a drawer again and again and again and again until it was full of forks and then he poured soda into his eyes and laughed like a maniac while Dipper drowned in the vast emptiness of the Mindscape???

Alcor stiffened. He set down the intricate contraption he’d been building to keep Toby safe from wild animals in the backyard. And he looked into the mirror.

What was he doing?

This was Bill’s soul he was fretting over. It was always him, on the inside, and he’d known it from the very first day he’d seen the boy. He knew what was lurking beneath the surface, what kind of monster slept in that innocent form waiting until one day he could reach out and traumatize his father once more. Reach out and steal his beating heart, and laugh, and live, and die, and laugh, and live, and die, in a way he’d never be able to again.

A chill passed through Alcor’s body. Something had to be wrong with him, because he knew what Toby was and he’d spent the entire week worrying about the boy. Why did he care so much?

Quietly, he crept down the hall, and peered into the bedroom on the right. There he was -- the beast himself -- sleeping soundly in a bed decorated with race cars and rocket ships. A few more steps, and Alcor could see how small he looked, how even in his sleep he seemed so broken. And the demonic instincts that had rushed through Alcor since the day he’d gone up in flames were quelled, because every fiber of his being told him he needed to protect this child.

He rested a hand on the boy’s forehead, and watched him dream about running around in a field of grass, playing catch with his new father.

---

Thus started a new routine. A demon, trying day-to-day to take care of a small child. Playing grown up even though he felt so utterly unprepared for what he was doing. But Alcor’s life didn’t stop when he became a parent.

Neither did any of his other regular obligations.

“Oh, you’re asking for it now!” Alcor roared, jumping to his feet. “I’m gonna run you through with my sword! Die die die die!”

The dungeon master -- Damien -- peered over his half-rimmed glasses at the demon and smirked. “Not gonna work, I’m afraid. The slime beast’s armor is too thick to be pierced by a sword such as your own.”

Alcor gaped with disbelief. “Whaaat? I call foul play! You let Anushka do it!”

“Anushka’s sword has a fire enchantment on it. Slime armor is weak to heat.”

“Also, I said die five times,” Anushka added with a shit-eating grin on her face, jabbing Alcor in the side with her elbow. “Die die die die die!”

Alcor snorted and dropped back into his chair. “Well, you got me there.” He looked at the other players, disappointment rolling over into amusement. “Can I change my move or am I locked in?”

Damien shrugged. “Go for it. I don’t think you’ll be able to beat it this turn though, and you’ve only got one hit point remaining.”

Nat leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Yo, I’ve got an idea. You should defend this turn and try to survive the slime’s attack, and then on my turn I can fire enchant your sword.”

“Huh. Maybe…” He patted his head to get the spittle out of his ear, and surveyed the map of the dungeon they were in. Then he sat bolt upright in his seat, a large exclamation mark appearing over his head. “Damien. How many sword actions do I get this turn?”

Damien rolled a die. “Two.”

“Yessss. Okay. First, I lunge at the slime again! But with the blunt end of my sword so it gets knocked back.”

Damien rolled another die. “Yep. That works. Are you gonna use your free movement to approach it again?”

Alcor shook his head. “Nope. I’m gonna throw my sword -”

“Your sword doesn’t have enough piercing damage to make a difference from that distance, I’m afraid.”

The room’s dim lighting glinted off of razor sharp teeth. “- at the cable holding up the chandelier.”

Anushka and Nat dropped their pencils, and looked straight up, momentarily forgetting that they were not actually in the dungeon they were traversing. “You what?”

Damien rolled a die again, and sucked in a sharp breath. “Alright. The chandelier falls onto the slime beast before it can react. It quickly catches on fire, leaving it too weak to attack. Congrats!”

Beaming, Alcor scribbled some numbers on his character sheet. “Heck yeah. No slime beast is strong enough to get one past the Dreambender.”

“You’re so creative, Al,” Nat said. “Seriously, wow. I never would’ve thought of that.”

He wove off the compliment. “Naw, I’m just basically a large child. Being silly and immature is what they’re good at.”

Looking up over his dungeon master partition, Damien furrowed his brow. “Why do you say you’re immature -”

There was a ringing in Alcor’s head -- a tug on a bond -- and he held up his hand. “Wait, hold that thought. Speaking of children, my kid’s calling me. I’m gonna have to leave early this week.” He stood up, and did a dramatic bow. “I’ll see ya all next week! Don’t lose my summoning circle!”

Toby -- lying flat on the floor of the Mystery Shack -- perked up at the sight of his adoptive father walking through the door. Tyrone looked about as human as they come -- a man in his mid-thirties with soft brown eyes, no wings, and feet that always touched the ground. He opened his arms and Toby came running to hug him.

Right away there was that trust again, that total trust that Alcor still couldn’t believe he deserved. How could someone like him -- someone who’d just spent two hours playing a tabletop role playing game and laughing about memes -- be trusted to take care of a child?

Gingerly, he took Toby into his arms and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “How are you doing?”

“I’m boooooooored!” Toby whined. “Can we play a game? I wanna play pretend!”

Chuckling, Alcor put Toby down and then sat beside him on the floor. “Sure thing, kid. You know, I’m pretty good at playing games like that. I was playing one with my friends earlier today.”

Toby’s jaw dropped. “Whoaaaaa! You have friends?”

A vein bulged in Alcor’s forehead. “Of course I- never mind. What’s the game, kid? What are we pretending?”

Toby jumped up and started pacing in a circle. “I wanna make up a story! It’s gonna be great! I’ll be the hero and you’ll be the bad guy -- an evil king who wants to kill all of the good people in the land! Is… is that okay?”

There was a mirror mounted on the wall behind where Toby had been sitting. Without the boy in his way, Alcor found his gaze fixed on it. He could see Toby gesturing as he walked and he could see the nostalgic decorations hanging on the wall of the Shack. But there was no Tyrone to speak of.

It took a moment for him to realize that Toby was talking to him. “What? Oh yeah. Of course, kid. I’ll be the bad guy.” He took a deep breath, discarding the voice in his head that furiously objected to him being the villain to Bill’s hero. “What’s my motivation?”

Toby cocked his head. “Moti- what?”

“What’s my backstory? Why am I evil?”

The boy continued to stare at him with a blank look on his face. “You’re evil cause you’re the bad guy and bad guys are evil!”

“That’s kinda boring- never mind.” Alcor grimaced and looked back at the mirror. “So you’re the hero, eh? How are you going to defeat me? What’s the hero good at?”

“Everything!!!!” Toby squealed, and his reflection grabbed onto something invisible. “The hero is the good guy so I should always win and I’ll have all of the magic and the biggest swords ever!”

Alcor shifted so that Toby was hanging onto his shoulders rather than around his middle. “Everything? But if the hero always wins, what’s the point?”

“The good guy always has to win!” the boy chirped, squeezing tight around Alcor’s neck. “Always!”

Oh my stars this is so boring, Alcor thought. How fricking uninventive is Bill’s soul? Children are supposed to be good at being silly and creative. I guess all Bill’s soul can think about is being powerful again.

A figure stepped into the room on the other side of the mirror. It was short -- looked to be about 12 years old -- and had clawed hands, bat wings sprouting from its hips, and a fancy suit that looked out of place for someone so young. Alcor’s jaw dropped as he watched the figure pick up Toby’s reflection, pat him on the back, and then stare directly out of the mirror at the demon.

“This is a game for children,” the figure said in a low growl.

“What?” Alcor yelped.

Toby giggled at the interruption. “I said that all the evil people should die because they’re mean! No one should ever do a bad thing!“

“This is what children are like. They see in black-and-white because they know nothing about how the world works.” Cold, black eyes bored into Alcor’s skull. “Have you forgotten what that’s like?”

“B-but I’m silly,” Alcor stammered, sweat starting to drip down his face. “I’m irresponsible. I love playing games and coming up with interesting stories. Those are childish things for someone as old as me to be doing.”

“Dad?” Toby asked. “What are you saying? I can’t hear you.”

The figure sneered, baring two sets of sharp teeth uncomfortably close to Toby’s head. “Whoever told you that must’ve really hated the idea of growing up.” Toby stirred, and it spent a moment cradling him so he’d calm down. Then those eyes -- now bright and full of gold -- flicked back at the demon. “Who said it? Was it you?”

Alcor gasped and fell over. Toby shrieked as he suddenly found himself tumbling to the ground, and the sound broke Alcor right out of his trance. Quick as a whistle, he pirouetted and caught the boy in his arms, pulling him close to his chest in a tight hug.

“Oh no, oh Toby, are you alright?” he fretted. “Did you get hurt?”

“I’m okay!” Toby squeaked, his face pressed against Alcor’s collarbone. Alcor loosened up on his hug, and took in Toby’s smile. “That was fun! You always catch me! That’s how I know you’re really a good guy.”

“I’m a good guy?” Alcor gulped, and glanced back at the mirror. This time he saw himself, in his present human disguise, holding Toby close, and looking so, so utterly responsible. It freaked him out.

“...Dad?” Toby asked, brow crumpled. “Daaaaad what are you thinking?”

“I think…” Alcor sighed, and gave his son a little kiss on the forehead. “I think it’s time you got some friends your own age.”

---

From that day on, things were a little different.

Alcor bought a house in the physical plane, because a memory of a shack in the Mindscape was no place to raise a child.

“Dad?”

He doctored forms and documents so it not only looked like a certain Tyrone Pines actually existed, but also that he and his adopted son Tobias Pines were legal residents of a sleepy town in the middle of Washington. This let Toby attend school with kids his own age.

“What is it, Toby?”

He went to the library on the weekly to check out parenting books, having long exhausted the meager supply of advice his omniscience had to offer -- as it turned out, parenting was very much a learn-as-you-go experience with few absolute truths to guide you.

“What’s a demon?”

Alcor froze, his hand halfway in the process of turning a page in his book. He started to turn his head around to look at the boy, and remembered just in time to turn his body around with it.

“Where did you hear that?” Alcor asked carefully.

Toby kept his head down, opting to study his father’s shoes instead of his face. “I, um...”

There it was again, that emotion bubbling up inside of Alcor, that instinctual distrust he couldn’t help but feel for the soul who had once taken everything from him. It was all he could do not to jump up and yell “Aha! Caught you red-handed, Bill! I knew you were in there all along!”

He got out of his chair and knelt in front of the child, using a finger to gently raise the boy’s head so they could see eye-to-eye. “You can tell me,” he said softly. “It’s okay.”

Alcor saw Toby reach into that pure, automatic trust he had for the monster who was raising him. The boy gulped, and squared his shoulders.

“Um... Devon’s dad said it to Devon.”

Alcor blinked. “Is that so? Devon, the kid in your class who asked you to play baseball with him?”

Toby nodded. “H-he was asking me again, and I know you said I wasn’t allowed to, but he started showing me anyway. He got his bat and swinged it and it looked really cool. Then his dad yelled at him and said ‘Devon, you little demon, cut that out right now!’“

Alcor could only stare, mouth agape, in response. Toby started to tremble as he continued speaking. “Then Devon’s dad took the baseball bat and Devon got really sad and I didn’t know what it means but it looked bad and I don’t want to be a little demon and I’m really really sorry I said I wanted to play baseball I don’t want to be a demon I don’t I don’t -”

He cut off with a squeak as his father took him into his arms and hugged him tight.

Alcor was a being with access to more power and magic than almost anything else in the universe. He could level mountains, he could turn cities inside out, he could institute universal basic income on the moon with a snap of his fingers.

But when he held Toby in his arms, when he saw the awestruck look on the boy’s face when he played the violin for him, when he listened to Toby babble excitedly about whatever he’d learned in school that day, Alcor felt powerful.

All of his magic crumbled beneath the obscene power granted to him by way of this child’s trust in him. He had the power to protect this child, to support and encourage him to grow up to be the best person he could be. He could also betray Toby’s trust so, so easily.

He could punish his son for no reason if he needed an emotional pick-me-up. He could disregard the boy’s concerns and laugh in his face. He could even raise his voice just a little too much, caught in a moment of frustration, and leave Toby wincing in distress -- an ephemeral moment in Alcor’s life but an upsetting and formative moment in Toby’s which could forever mar their relationship.

That would be childish. That would be immature of him.

Alcor had killed reams of cultists, had bestowed disturbing curses on people who’d only sort of deserved it, had terraformed the western coast of the United States in a fit of rage. He’d done a lot of horrible things with his magic, but.

This power, this power he had to shape Toby’s life.

This power horrified him.

“You’re not a demon,” Alcor said, (and it felt so unfair to be saying that to him of all people -- so cruel and dirty that he wanted to scream until his hair fell out. But he didn’t.)

“Don’t cry,” (even though no one had held him when he cried that day in 2012, because he’d simply slipped through their fingers, and he wanted to repay that favor. But he didn’t.)

“Daddy’s here,” he whispered, before kissing Toby’s tears away. “You’re not in trouble.”

The words came so naturally, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. As if he had the experience to understand what was upsetting his son, and the power to make it better. As if he had the maturity to push past his own conflicted feelings, because he was an adult, and this was a little child.

He set Toby down, and kneeled to meet his eyes. In that moment, he felt tall. Sort of grown up.

Toby sniffled. “You’d never yell at me? Even if I do something wrong?”

Alcor thought once again back to the day he’d seen Bill Cipher on the side of the road. Thought about the furious, vengeful part of him that enjoyed the boy’s suffering because that’s what he deserved. Remarked on how the universe had served him up his greatest enemy in the most vulnerable form possible, giving him the opportunity to take Toby’s trust and do unspeakable things to him.

“Sure thing, kiddo,” he said, ruffling the boy’s hair. “I promise.”

Remembered how he’d instead chosen love.

---

It was a dark and stormy night that found Alcor wandering the streets of a mostly-abandoned city.

He’d been summoned -- it always started with a summons -- and he’d been angry. It didn’t even matter what had made him angry, because there were so many things these days that people absolutely would not stop doing no matter how much he screamed and threatened and threw flaming balls of plasma into their twisted places of worship. They never learned. And neither did he.

Alcor couldn’t stand how many people had to die because of him. How many people were killed in his name. How many lives he’d taken with his own hands because he couldn’t seem to stop, like an immature brat who throws tantrums when things don’t go his way. He wondered if he could ever change, or if he was just stuck this way.

It was deep in these thoughts that the demon heard a little noise. A squeak, barely audible over the rain. He dismissed it at first, because his grand thoughts were more important than the world around him, and right after a bad summons was the perfect time for self-hatred. It felt good -- it was one of the only things that still did. He considered burning the entire city to the ground. Maybe that’d feel even better.

Something told him that it wouldn’t.

He heard the squeak again, his eyes darting over to a heap of trash bags between two buildings, and that’s when he saw him. A little boy with golden hair, no older than six. He was dressed in rags. He looked like he hadn’t seen a scrap of food in days. The left side of his face had been eaten away by flame, leaving it patchy and discolored.

Alcor had seen right through Bill’s disguise, of course. There wasn’t a meatsuit pitiable enough to blot out the sins his soul had committed. Perhaps that was why he had been abandoned on the side of the street to begin with -- karma was finally catching up with him. Alcor wanted to laugh, but he couldn’t. Something strange was going on inside of him. Some sort of instinct buried within him -- not one tipped with blood and claws, but one that creaked and groaned under centuries of exertion.

It was this feeling that prompted him to gather up the child in his arms. He felt how fast the boy’s heart was beating; saw in his past how much he’d been hurt without an adult to protect him. He knew that feeling well.

“It’s okay,” he murmured as Toby began to fuss. “Things will be better now. I’ll protect you. I might only be a child myself, but I promise I’ll protect you.”

One year later, one year of introspection, growth, and unbroken promises later, he had to admit he’d been wrong.

(AO3 link)

#gravity falls #transcendence au #dipper pines #alcor the dreambender #toby pines #tobias pines #fic #my stuff

[deuynndoodles]

read on ao3 or click read more!

suspicion increase by deuynndrabbles and @whimsicalweast chapter summary:

Three kids have a sleepover. One word- Mabel.

“Seriously, Mabel?” The boy groans, and looks at his sister with The Look.

“Yes, seriously,” she says, in a tone that is anything but serious.

3k | ch. two

Danny is currently curled up in a rainbow blanket (given to him by the boy, but he mentioned it was knitted by Mabel- he doesn’t necessarily need it because of his ice powers, and therefore likes the cold, but he figures it’d be weird to refuse) in the attic, aka the twins’ bedroom.

He glances over to Mabel, who is currently laying on her bed coloring in a coloring book on her belly with her feet in the air, her tongue sticking out playfully, he starts to reflect on what landed him in this spot in the first place.

(Danny accidentally mentioned he didn’t have anywhere to go that night, and Mabel had none of that and scooped him up, dragging him to another room in the Mystery Shack and asking her great uncle if Danny could stay over for the night.

The older man didn’t seem to care all that much, only giving them a few warnings such as “Don’t stay up too late”, and “Never let Mabel have any Smiley Dip”, and “Don’t raise the dead again”.

Danny found everything he mentioned fairly standard sleepover rules.

The two children thanked the man, one certainly more enthusiastic than the other, and Mabel rushed up the stairs, hopping each stair two at a time, gripping Danny with her right arm.

Mabel’s brother didn’t seem quite as eager to have Danny over as Mabel was, but remained quiet throughout the process for the most part. Well, he did reprimand his sister for inviting over a stranger, which was a reasonable response. But. He was right here, jeez.

All Mabel did was blow a raspberry at him and told him not to worry, but her brother didn’t calm.)

Still feeling the kid’s gaze focused on the back of his head, Danny pulls out his phone and dials two very familiar numbers, one to a specific techno-geek and the other to a goth activist, but is only met with “The person you are trying to reach is currently unavailable, please call back later or leave a message at the beep.”

He sighs, dropping his phone back into his jeans pocket and gives the twins a smile, saying, “I’ll try again in the morning. It is kinda late, anyways. And who knows how late it is for them in Illinois.”

Mabel gives him a wide grin and nods her head, but her brother just gives him an uncertain glance before returning to the journal in his hands. It looks fairly odd to Danny, a red cover with a six fingered hand slapped on the front and a bold number 2 in the center. But he’s not one to judge.

(So now here he is, kidnapped by a thirteen-year-old girl, staying in the attic of a tourist trap wrapped in a multitude of blankets in between two twin beds.)

He still feels as if he’s gotten whiplash from this whole scenario. But he just pulls up the blanket draped around his shoulders to cover his cheeks, content with the situation as well as he can be.

Mabel is now laying on her back, placing her bare feet on the slanted ceiling. Her brother is still scouring his journal, with two other identical covers sitting on his bedside table. He’s chewing on the end of the pencil he holds, occasionally pausing to write a thing or two in the margins. Their pig, deemed ‘Waddles’, is snuggled up to Mabel on her bed.

Danny himself is in a make-shift nest (no matter what you call it, Mabel will say it’s a bed, but Danny will call it a nest) surrounded by a various amount of blankets and pillows.

“By the way, what do ya like to do, Danny?” Mabel says, her tongue stuck out quite dorkishly and she grins a wide brace-filled grin at the boy.

Danny blinks, and then the audio forms itself into words in his brain. “Video games, I guess?” He says, tilting his head slightly and the blanket falls back onto his shoulders. “I don’t have a whole lot of free time.”

(Danny doesn’t share the reasons for this.)

“Cool!” Mabel draws out the syllable, and flips over onto her belly again and props her arms up on her pillow. She turns to glance at her brother. “Hey, bro-bro? Do we have any video games in the shack?”

The small teen furrows his brow. “I don’t think so,” he mutters, setting the book in his lap aside on his bedside table to join the two other identical volumes. “Soos probably has some, but for now I think we just have board games downstairs in the gift shop.”

Mabel gasps, and smirks. “How about Candyland?” Mabel grins, and her brother groans.

“Fine,” he says. “You okay with that, Danny?”

Danny shrugs, and says, “I don’t really care, to be honest.”

Mabel takes the neutral answer and grins even wider, sliding off her bed with an “oomph” and trotting downstairs to retrieve said board game.

The brunet on the bed sighs and looks over to Danny, who simply blinks at him in confusion. “What?” Danny says, and the boy tentatively offers a slip of paper attached to a clipboard along with the pencil he was chewing on to him.

“Can you write some things down on Phantom?”

(Danny is suddenly reminded of the fact that he had agreed to hunt essentially himself- his brain hasn’t quite caught up and he’s sure he’ll bolt up in the middle of the night and go “I’m hunting myself with two thirteen-year-olds”.

But he hasn’t quite comprehended this fact yet.)

Instead, Danny grimaces at the chewed and slightly wet pencil, but takes the clipboard and starts to write in slanted print anway.

After a few minutes, he offers the paper back to the boy, and he starts to read the text out loud. Danny rolls his eyes at this. (He knows what the paper says, thank you very much.)

“Phantom’s a pretty friendly ghost. He’d save people from oncoming ghost attacks back in my hometown. Nobody really knows where he’s from or how old he is-”

(It’s not like Danny’s going to go and share his life story to this kid he doesn’t even know the name of. Besides, it’s technically the truth. Excluding a certain trio, a sister, and a whole world of ghosts.)

“-or how he died, but they never can find out because Phantom is fairly elusive. He typically stays in his own haunt, so it’s unlikely you’ll see him anywhere else.” The boy pauses his reading, glancing up from the paper to meet sky blue eyes with hazelnut brown. “This is all you know?” He says, shaking the scrap of notebook paper.

The door is slammed open to reveal an excited Mabel with a decorated cardboard box in her hands. (To be honest, both boys had pretty much forgotten she was downstairs.)

“Who’s ready to play Candyland?” She exclaims, and doesn’t wait for an answer before she plops down on the wooden floor and sets up the game.

“I get red!” Mabel says, and picks up the piece that is now ‘hers’ and sets it by the start. She grabs a blue and sticks it by the start as well. “Danny, which color do you want?” She shakes the green and the yellow gingerbread man figures, a wide grin still adorning her face.

“Green.”

Mabel shoves the yellow one back in the box. “Poor yellow guy, he’ll be all lonely in there. Well, we’ll make it quick!” She grins, and offers the deck of cards over to her brother who shuffles and sets it down next to the board.

The first card is a purple, and Mabel decides that she goes first and moves the red figure. Danny goes next, and takes an arm out of his blanket nest and moves his character five blocks forward.

Approximately fifteen minutes later, the yellow man is reunited with his best friends after Mabel yells “I win!” and flips the board over in victory.

(For a quick second, Danny is reminded of when Sam would brag whenever she’d win the round of Doom they all played together, slamming the controller down on the couch and announcing her victory to two sour boys.

Though of course, this girl is the complete opposite of Sam so he isn’t really sure why he thinks of her.)

“Seriously, Mabel?” The boy groans, and looks at his sister with The Look.

“Yes, seriously,” she says, in a tone that is anything but serious.

Danny snickers, and stops as he sees Mabel’s wide grin as she believes Danny is on her side.

(He’s neutral.)

-

“Anyway, let’s focus on Phantom,” Dipper says, and pulls out the slip of paper that Danny filled out. He reads it out loud again to his twin, and she smiles as she listens.

She seems to almost deflate like a balloon when he mentions that they might not see Phantom, but when Dipper thinks of that night last week of seeing a bright light above the trees at just before sunrise-

He’s pretty sure they’ll see Phantom.

And besides, Danny’s parents are ghost hunters so he knows a couple things. They’re bound to find something.

“Though you guys could probably find a bunch of animal ghosts and stuff in the woods. Seemed pretty supernatural to me,” Danny throws out, and glances up at the twins.

Suddenly, Mabel’s balloon is filled with helium again and she sits up straight with an excited expression. “That sounds sweet,” she says, drawing out the last syllable annoyingly long and Dipper groans on the inside.

But he can’t say he isn’t excited, because he definitely is. He just doesn’t show it as much as the girl does. His heart is still beating fast, and a grin adorns his face. He just doesn’t flail his limbs around like Mabel is currently doing, hammering questions about ghosts at Danny, while the boy looks at the floor and responds with short, concise answers.

‘Yeah,’ Dipper thinks. ‘Let’s do this.’

And then Mabel hits him over the head with a pillow from Danny’s nest, knocking his snapback off his head and he turns to glare at her.

“C’mon, lil’ bro! It’s sleepover time! We can focus on those ghostie thingies tomorrow!”

Dipper abstains from responding, but he thinks ‘You were just asking Danny a bunch of questions about them’ as Dipper tugs his hat back on.

“Now, let’s paint your nails, boys!”

She lifts a few bottles of nail polish in her hands and a smirk adorns her face.

Danny groans, and says, “Ugh, fine. But I want black.”

(He’s still thinking of Sam and Tucker.)

Dipper soon has rainbow nail polish smothered over his fingers, carefully painted and Danny has all black nails and toes. (Danny found it hard to object to that puppy-dog-eyes face when she begged to paint his toes.)

“Who’s ready for makeup?” Mabel smiles, opening a drawer.

“Uh, no,” Danny deadpans, “I didn’t agree to this.” Dipper falls over onto his bed with a groan.

-

If Mabel didn’t notice her brother’s clear discomfort from this entire situation, she’d call herself blind.

She believes that she knows Dipper better than he knows himself, and now is just proof of that. Danny’s examining his makeup in the mirror, and Mabel watches Dipper fiddle with the pen in his hand unconsciously, spinning it around. He stares down at the hardwood floor as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world with brown hair falling into his eyes.

Dipper has a tendency to avoid things that makes him uneasy, so it makes sense he’s quiet throughout the sleepover. Not that he was ever really that loud in the first place; Dipper usually waits until attention is diverted away from him so he blends into the background when he’s wary of anything.

Or anyone.

Dipper has never been a social butterfly like Mabel, and she doesn’t blame him for that. He still tries. . . Well, at least he used to. Ever since their last summer at Gravity Falls, he seems so different, so closed off.

With everything that occurred last summer, he’s grown even more distrustful of people in general, and she can’t blame him for this either. (She still feels guilty about what she said to him when they were trapped in that ideal world, paradise, but was really just a trap. She was too blind to see, and she has Dipper to thank for ever getting out of there.)

It makes sense, after all.

(A small part of her blames this mysterious town for what it’s done, who’s really responsible for this shift in Dipper’s personality, and Gravity Falls no longer has him haunting the streets but that voice still echoes in her brother’s head.)

Mabel knows that Dipper doesn’t particularly trust Danny yet. She’s still trying though, okay? Games, makeovers, icebreakers; nothing seems to work for them. The two could get along so well if they just talk to each other! (Danny seems down to get to know her brother, but it doesn’t go the other way and she hates it.)

It really irritates her, how she can’t do anything to get Dipper to trust Danny.

She huffs to herself, pulling out another packet of blush and sticking it in the other makeup she holds in her arms.

Mabel knows that she can’t force him to get closer to the teen, or Dipper’ll just shut them both out, which wouldn’t do either of them any good. He may not be sure of Danny, but Mabel just knows he’s nice.

Mabel likes to think she’s a good judge of character, and she’s gotten better at it in the past year. Danny has yet to make her suspicious, so that’s positive!

Besides, there’s no way he’s one of those annoying gnomes, or a vampire, or anything else. He wouldn’t have been able to get through the weirdness barrier if that was the case.

(Though she knows this, she finds herself checking his eyes as she smothers makeup over his face. Just to make sure.)

She definitely cares about her brother, there’s not doubt about that. But Danny had nowhere else to stay! She couldn’t just leave him to the wolves, or even worse, the crazy town members. After Danny mentioned he had to go, he just seemed so lonely and that wouldn’t do!

Even if Dipper doesn’t like Danny, he has to understand why she’s doing this.

She does want them to get along, but she can’t just throw them into a closet together. (last time she did that with Dipper- well, there were some unforeseen occurrences.) She can’t force them to be friends. So for now, she’ll just try to lighten the mood. Try to have fun, it is a sleepover after all!

There has to be some way to get them to talk to each other and she’s gonna find out how.

-

“Hey, Dipper, you good?”

Dipper has a full face of makeup, the makeup surprisingly working pretty well on both Danny and himself. “I’m fine,” he says, and it’s true. Mabel can be annoying at some times but he still loves her.

“Dipper?” Danny questions, and Mabel immediately responds.

“Yup! It’s his nickname because of a birthmark he got on his forehead!” She gets a little closer to Danny, and stage whispers, “It's the Big Dipper.”

“Mabel!” Dipper exclaims, feeling his ears reddening.

“What?” Mabel shrugs. “He was wondering.”

“No, I was double-checking to see if that was his name.”

Dipper turns to glare at Mabel, and then calms. “Yeah, uh, my name’s Dipper.”

“Do you really have the Big Dipper on your forehead, though?” Danny asks, and it’s a fair question, but it still slightly irritates Dipper.

Dipper nods, and wipes the makeup off his face and grabs his cap from the ground (Mabel had thrown it off to make it easier to apply makeup), steadying it on his head once again.

“Cool,” Danny says, sounding genuine, and Dipper pauses. He was almost expecting him to laugh at Dipper for it. “Space is awesome, I think it’d be cool to have a space birthmark or something.”

“Um, thanks.” Dipper says, and glances at the floor. 

(He thinks of how familiar Danny feels, not for the first time that night. He still can't place why, though.)

Stan pops in, slamming the door open. “Kids, get ready for bed. Your Grunkle wants to be able to watch babies fight without the ruckus above his head.”

Dipper finds himself yawning, and nods in agreement.

“C’mon, Grunkle Stan! It’s a sleepover,” Mabel argues, and Stan shakes his head, arms crossed.

“Lights off in five,” Stan says, and it sounds odd coming from such a gruff voice.

“Okay, Grunkle Stan,” the twins say in unison, Mabel’s in disappointment and Dipper’s with agreement.

Despite her craziness a few minutes ago, as soon as Mabel’s head hits the pillow she’s out like a light. Dipper watches Danny curl up in a ball on the floor, his head facing away, and his eyes start to droop.

He falls asleep.

-

Danny is left the last awake, with Mabel snoring and Dipper exhaling softly on his bed. He’s curled into a ball, The blanket essentially a cocoon around him, and he gazes out the open window. The window lets in soft chilly air from the summer night, but Mabel and Dipper are both curled up tight in their blankets so they don’t notice.

Danny slides his blankets off, instead settling them into a mattress shape and curls into a ball again on the fluffy floor.

He still gazes out the open window, watching the waxing moon gently shine through the panes of glass and make pretty shapes on the floor. It’s serene, and there’s no sound except for breathing in the room.

The halfa sighs, tracing a circle in the floor as a stim as he watches the moon. He isn’t sure how he’ll get home if he can’t contact his friends, but he hopes they’ll be awake in the morning.

He finds himself yawning, and eventually drifts to sleep.

#dp #drabbles

[nautiscarader]

Wendip Week day 4 - same age

(Ao3)

- This is going to be the most boring holidays ever.

Dipper Pines put down the bags he's been carrying on the wooden floor of their new room, wondering if the creaking he was hearing would be the herald of their doom. But even if, the effect was nullified at once when Mabel began jumping up and down on her new bed, doing somersaults in the air, laughing and cheering.

- Oh come on, dipdop. This place ain't so bad! Come on, let's see what things are in the gift shop. - Mabel, we *live* in a gift shop now. - Dipper grumbled - And I have a feeling our grunkle would be willing to sell us...

The twins walked down the stairs (Mabel two at the time), getting used to the bizarre décor of the Mystery Shack. The modern merchandise clashed with old pictures and clearly fake paraphernalia that wouldn't lure even the most gullible of tourists.

- Man, can you believe this, Mabel? Who would believe in such things? - Dipper asked into the void, leaning against the counter. - Oh, you;d be surprised.  

Dipper let out an embarrassingly high-pitched meep as someone jumped from behind the counter. The girl had long, red hair, wore a green plaid shirt, was missing one front tooth, but it somehow didn't detract from her beaming smile. It took Dipper a moment to realise he has been in Mabel's arms the whole time when she caught him, and stepped to the floor.

- Hi there! - the girl asked - You are Mr Pines' grand-kids, right? Oh man, maybe finally the borefest will end. - she kept talking, while she sat on the counter and dangled her feet, which Dipper now noticed were hidden in bizarrely huge boots. - Hi! I'm Mabel! - Wendy. Wendy Corduroy. - the girl reached her hand and fist-bumped Mabel, much to her delight. - Dipper! She knows the SECRET HANDSHAKE. - Heh, it's not very secret, isn't it? - Wendy looked at the chestnut-haired boy - And it's... Dipper?

She raised her brow, ogling him from head to toes.

- It's... it's a nickname. Anyway, - Dipper quickly changed the subject - You were talking about the, uh, clients? - Oh yeah. Lots of people fall for those. - Wait, how do you know? - Dipper inquired - Are you... working here? - Yup.

Wendy jumped to the floor and walked to the twins. She was fraction of an inch taller than them, though her oversized ushanka might have contributed to that effect.

- You are talking with Mystery's Shack best saleswoman! Mostly because I'm the only woman. - she added. - Wait, how come grunkle Stan let you? - Mabel tilted her head in confusion/ - "Grunkle"? - Wendy chuckled - What's that short for, "grumpy uncle"? - "Great uncle" actually. - Ah, makes sense. So, anyway, I asked him if I can work here to earn some cash, and he said yeah, and he was happy cos he thought he'd have to pay me only a half. So then I told him I might call the feds, and you'd have to see his face when he heard that.

Mabel and Dipper exchanged bewildered looks after the girl sputtered the entire history seemingly in one breath. Wendy looked around and lowered her voice.

- Between you and me, I think your grunkle has some serious skeletons in his closet. Or maybe the basement.

She jumped in place, and as she landed, the three heard a faint echo, just like when Dipper put down their bags.

- There must be one, but I can't find an entrance. Anyway, do you guys want to take a tour around the neighbourhood? And by "neighbourhood", I mean forest. - Sure! - Mabel exclaimed - Dipper, isn't she the coolest? - Uh, y-yeah. - Dipper spoke cautiously and followed the two.

Wendy grabbed something from the counter, and as they left the building, it became obvious what did she take.

- Woah, woah, woah. - Dipper ran forward - You're not gonna tell me you will drive this. - he pointed to the golf-cart parked in front of the Mystery Shack. - Oh, you can drive, too? Cool. - Wendy spoke nonchalantly and tossed him the keys. - No, that's not what I meant-

Dipper tried to argue, but the girls were already in the car, looking at him with mischievous looks. He sighed and passed the keys back to Wendy, who, with her big boots, were just tall enough to reach the pedals. While Mabel was singing some silly song, Dipper was saying his last prayer, but he quickly realised he might have underestimated Wendy's abilities.

The three drove into the forest, down the old, beaten paths, and the two city kids were suddenly engulfed by the untamed, serene nature that surrounded them. The sounds of birds chirping, leaves rustling and the distant roar of waterfalls created ambience they only heard in documentary films. And with the sudden rush of clean air came the oxygen shock, and Dipper couldn't stop himself from speaking his mind.

- Wow, Wendy, this is...

He looked to his left and saw the same girl, whose long hair now flowed with the air, while her face and her green eyes were partially obscured by the flickering shadows of the nearby trees. Words got stuck in his throat, and only one came out.

- ...beautiful. - Yeah, it's nice around here. - she answered nonchalantly. - It gets weird when the trolls come from the mountains.

Dipper blinked.

- I'm sorry, what? - Yeah, they are a pain in the behind, but they're not that bad, unless you know how to handle them. And then there are the unicorns, those are jerks, but again, they stay in their glades. Man-bats can be weird, they get rebooted every season anyway, so as far as monster go, they are not that bad, and then there's-

Suddenly, Dipper gripped Wendy's shoulders and turned her towards him, the sheer horror on his face.

- THERE ARE MONSTERS HERE?! - Woah, Dipper, don't do that, or I'll ran into- - A TREE!

Mabel screamed and Wendy slammed the brake pedal, just as they were about to crash into a mighty tree. But only thanks to her reflexes, the car stopped, making only the tiniest contact with the tree that arose in front of them.

- Oh, geez, oh geez, Wendy, I'm so sorry, are you-are you okay? Mabel? What about you?

But neither of the girls reacted to Dipper's questions, staring at the obstacle they nearly ran into. And when Dipper followed their sight, he realised why. There was now a hole in the tree. Not a round one, not one caused by any of the parts of the golf-cart, but a rectangular, precisely cut one, and the door it was hidden behind hang onto the only remain hinge.

- Woah, guys, we found a treasure!

Wendy eagerly jumped out of the cart and crawled onto the mask, her hand already diving into the hidden compartment.

- We-Wendy, be careful there might be some rabid animal there-

Dipper alerted Wendy, who, from the looks on her face, already found something inside.

- Guys, there's some mechanism here!

The red-head eagerly pushed the button inside, and Dipper once more let out a faint meep when he felt that ground underneath him began moving, uncovering another obscured hole, this time underneath thick, metal sliding door. Mabel and Wendy rushed to the spot, but this time, they let out disappointing sighs.

- Eh? A book? Come on, I expected a treasure chest!

But this time Dipper reached for the old, brown-red book as quickly as Wendy jumped up the tree before. The corners were encased in golden metal that once probably shone brightly, but years have made that shine obscured underneath the thick layer of dust. The center of the book's cover was an outline of six-fingered hand as well as number "3", and there was a magnifying glass attached to it on a string.

With trembling hands, Dipper opened it, worrying the book might crumble to dust, but to his surprise and amazement, the book was in almost immaculate state, sans the yellowish tint the once-white pages have acquired.

As he shuffled through the pages, Wendy and Mabel leaned over his shoulders, and with each new hand-made drawings, their curiosity deepened, though only one of the three knew what Dipper might be holding in his hands.

- Holy smokes, guys! - Wendy exclaimed - I think this is some sort of guide to all the monsters and weirdness that happens around here. - she nudged Dipper in his arm - Dude, if you didn't distract me, we would have never found this. - Y-Yeah. - Dipper replied with a equally ecstatic smile - And-and it looks like some pages are written in a code, look!

He opened the book and pointed to a series of mysterious signs that looked random, but upon further inspection were clearly written with some thought in mind.

- Guys, this might be something really big! - Dipper cheered - I thought we might get bored to death here, but-

Suddenly, Dipper remembered why he nearly made Wendy crash their cart.

- Wait, Wendy, did you mention "monsters"? - Oh yeah, the woods are chock full of them. - Wendy shrugged - Like manotaurs, giant ducks, and... - CORDUROY!

The three turned their head around as a new voice reached them. Dipper nearly dropped the mysterious book when a creature from the very same drawing he was looking at materialised itself in front of them, together with dozens of its spike-hatted brethren.

- ...gnomes. - Wendy spoke in disgust and spat - What do you want, you jerks? - We told you not to come here - one of the gnomes spoke - Not after your father tore down our forest. - Ugh. - Wendy rolled her eyes - He is a lumberjack, what else was he supposed to do? - We-Wendy, maybe we should-

Dipper's concern became real when the small, inoffensive-looking gnomes suddenly gathered around, and from the mass of colourful hats, a new, humongous gnome arose, comprised of the whole pack that just a moment ago looked comical.

- Er, okay, guys, it's time to scram.

Wendy didn't have to say it twice to the twins. The three jumped into the cart and Wendy slammed her foot onto the gas, driving them back towards the Shack. Mabel and Dipper watched as the monstrous mega-gnome was left behind, and for a moment, they thought they might have escaped its wrath. But a moment later, a deafening roar shook the forest and the colossal gnome appeared from behind the trees, running after them much faster than they anticipated.

- We-Wendy! It's-it's getting closer! - Check the book! - What? - Check the book, maybe there's something in it!

Dipper and Mabel quickly opened the mysterious journal back onto the page that described the gnomes. Dipper frantically looked through the hand-written descriptions, hearing the ominous, thundering footsteps behind him.

- Er... Er... We-wendy, there's nothing about their weaknesses! - Well, we'll have to improvise. - Wendy spoke - Hold on, guys! - Ah, my hat!

Dipper reached to grab his brown hat that flew with the wind and as it collided with the mouth of the gnome it was torn into pieces.

She made a sharp turn, and the next moment the twins found that for the second time this day their cart was on a collision course, this time with something much bigger.

- We-Wendy! The water tower! - Mabel screamed, but the red-hair was already steeping out of the cart as it slowed down.  

Something metallic shone onto her belt, and with a quick "Be right back", Wendy disappeared.

- Oh, great, she left us! - Dipper panicked, but Mabel pointed up. Dipper followed her, perhaps just to avert his eyes from the oncoming death.

With an axe in her hand, Wendy was climbing up the water tower, as as the gigantic gnome was about to squish Dipper and Mabel, she struck the old cistern, and jumped to the nearby tree, as the pressure did the rest. A stream of water hit the gnome in the face, and it began disintegrating, as if it was made from sugar, revealing each and every single little gnome that were part of it.

Like cats treated with a sprinkler, the might enemy dispersed, cursing Corduroy's name as they came back into the woods. With the same grace, Wendy jumped to the ground, welcomed by Dipper's and Mabel's overjoyed cheering.

- Wendy, that was the coolest... - ...most irresponsible, but definitely coolest... - ...think we've ever seen! - Wow, Your mom must be so proud of you! - Mabel exclaimed. - Yeah... I suppose she would be. - Wendy looked away for a moment - You gotta learn how to deal with these guys. Maybe I can help you complete this book, eh?

For a moment, Dipper didn't realise Wendy was addressing him. Though the water around them made the air chilly, he felt hot when his eyes locked with hers, and only Mabel's hand breaking that contact brought him down to earth.

- Oh, oh yeah! Sure!

Wendy raised her brow, and only after a while she realised that was missing from Dipper's usual look.

- Dipper, your hat's gone. - Oh, oh yeah, but it's not a big deal, Grunkle Stan has tons of caps in the Shack, I'm sure he will-

But before he could end the sentence, Wendy plucked her oversized hat onto his head. And as she ruffled his hair, she suddenly noticed something peculiar on his forehead.

- Woah, what's that? A birthmark? - Y-Yeah - Dipper blushed - It kinds looks like... - A big dipper! - Wendy exclaimed - Wow, that's so cool! Now I get why people call you that.

Once more, Dipper found himself speechless, looking at the stunning, brave girl, whose red hair were now illuminated by rainbows from the last streams of water leaking from the water tower. And before he knew it, they were back at the Shack, saying goodbye, as the sun was setting down, and their new friend had to go home.

- Oh, by the way... - Wendy's cheeks turned crimson - You are not the only one with a weird name. My middle one's Blerble.

She stuck her tongue out and waved the twins goodbye, before she ran into the forest, following a path only she knew.

Dipper let out a sigh and was about to walk into the shack, when he collided with his sister, and was met face-to-face with the widest of snarky grins he has ever seen.

- What? - Someone's in lo-ove! - Mabel sang - Come on, Mabel. - Dipper rolled his eyes. - It's not like that. - Oh yeah, mister "It's not like that" - she mocked him - You couldn't take your eyes from her! We drove past like a dozen of weird things and you didn;t even flinch, you were ogling her soooo much!

Dipper walked faster, trying to escape Mabel's taunts.

- Mabel, Wendy is just our friend, we just met her! And yeah, she is cool, and can climb trees, and knows all about the wildlife, and she saved our lives, and she wants to help work on the... the book with me...

Dipper Pines stopped in the middle of the Mystery Shack, and uttered a single "Oh no", just as Mabel erupted into laughter.

#Wendip #Wendip week #wendip week 2020 #same age #nautiscaraderfics

[zombageddon]

Well wendy's gang, mabel's gang, and dipper and bill would be great, but if that's a bit much, dipper and bill is fine. Thanks!

Okay, so this might get a bit long for an ask, but I’m gonna do it anyway! I always feel weird describing characters in story, especially when I know the readers probably already have ideas about how they might look, but describing them here will probably be a good exercise for me, so, follow them if you want, or tweak them to suit your own headcanons, it’s all up to you as readers because I suck at putting this stuff on story.

Wendy: My version of Wendy looks a lot like an older version of who was in the show, with a few noticeable differences. Her hair is cut into a bob, and she’s got a bit more muscle now, instead of just being lanky. She’s lost her hat, but her outfits still favor rundown jeans, loose flannel over a tank top (or sometimes tied around her waist, when she gets hot or needs to move freely), and ankle boots. She’s also got a pseudo holster for her hatchet attached to her belt, it’s basically just a couple straps that button together around head to keep it secure. She’s also got a few leather bracelets, because can anyone truly be a badass without them?Robbie: Our awkward goth boy has grown up to be a nearly respectable gentleman! Since entering medical school, Robbie’s worked to make his look a little more professional. His bangs are shorter, and his acne has cleared up. He doesn’t have any facial piercings, but he’s still got both ears pierced, plus a few extra rings on the shell of his right ear. Snice it’s summertime, his outfits have started slipping back into goth tendencies, but his wardrobe has still changed. His jeans no longer have rips in them, and they’re not quite skin tight anymore, though his converse are still old and ratty with little skulls drawn on in sharpie. He also still has his trademark hoodie, and he wears it over various band t-shirts that come out whenever it gets too hot to wear the hoodie, or when the need for mobility outweighs the need to be a goth.

Tambry: Tambry has really just gotten more scene in college. Her hair is still purple, though it’s gotten a bit shorter, and she’s got her ears double pierced on both sides plus a bar on the left side. She also has a nose piercing. She did have to change her style a little bit for the apocalypse. Originally she was in a tight dress with combat boots and fishnets, but after stopping at her apartment for supplies she changed into jeans and a t-shirt that she stole from Robbie at some point. She also wears her pepper spray clipped onto her belt loop.

Thompson: Pretty much the epitome of a gentle giant, Thompson is still the only member of the gang that really nails the “upstanding citizen” look. He tends towards cargo shorts, polo shirts, and Vans. The downside of his look is that whenever he gets splattered in blood, the stains are super visible. Honestly, he kinda looks like a stereotypical horror movie frat boy, just nicer. Thompson is also super big though, he’s the tallest of the gang by a good two heads (three is you’re Tambry and Lee), and he’s pretty bulky too from spending the last few years weight lifting. He’s not quite bodybuilder ripped, but he’s still pretty strong. (Ngl I’m picturing a very similar build to that of Hunk from the new Voltron)

Nate: So, fun fact. When I first started writing thing, I got Nate and Lee confused. And while I did try to switch them back in my head, I couldn’t do it, and honestly? Nate looks like a Lee and Lee looks like a Nate. So I’m pulling a swap a la Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead and ya’ll can’t stop me, and hopefully none of you care. So my Nate is the lanky blond guy who looks like he belongs in a band that operates out of a basement. His hair is still pretty long, and his image isn’t being helped by hours in a car with no comb. He wears Metallica tees and ripped up jeans, and the kind of converse that are so ratty that your mother is constantly telling you to throw them out, and that was before they got exposed to a zombie apocalypse.

Lee: So there is an aesthetic for Lee, but fuck if I remember what it’s called, so bear with me, because while you probably know the look I’m talking about, it’s hard to describe. Nate is that short, skinny boy with rubber band bracelets and a snapback. He wear skinny jeans and v necks (blue, in Lee’s case), and plain black Vans. He listens to a lot of EDM and knows all the Top 40 hits, and he can absolutely dance to all of them. He keeps his hair short, and on days when he doesn’t have the snapback he’ll gel it. He looks like a douchebag. That’s what this look is called, I just remembered.

Mabel: Mabel has grown up a bit since she was a kid, but her style hasn’t changed much. She still wears cute sweaters with hand sewn pictures, though they tend to fit better now (yarn is fucking expensive and oversized sweaters are unrealistic on a college budget). She also still wears her hair long, though she started braiding it for the apocalypse. Under the sweater is a plain t-shirt, and on bottom she’s got a short skirt with colored leggings that go down to about mid calf, plus some diy bedazzled converse. Everything is colorful, but nothing clashes. I’m thinking teal, orange, and pink, but let’s be real she totally packed multiple outfits so feel free to experiment.

Pacifica: Purple is still her signature color, even if it does get a little bloodier. She’s got a light, tan leather jacket over a purple v-neck and white capris, plus white sneakers. Now, nothing white will stay white (damn apocalypse), but Paz has more important things on her mind than fashion...mostly. Her makeup is still beyond reproach, and her eyeliner is so on point she could stab a zombie with it. She still has long hair, but she wears it in a tinkerbell bun for practicality. She also has bangs, so that’s a pretty cute look too.

Candy: Candy’s hair is bobbed, and her glasses are black with those cute wings on the edge of the lenses. She’s one of the few people who decided to dress appropriately for an apocalypse too, so her outfit is more function than fashion. Cargo pants, loose T, and a bomber jacket. And I’m talking about a real bomber jacket, not one of those fashion ones from Hot Topic (love them, but not great for movement). If anyone watches Z Nation, Candy is pretty much trying to emulate Warren, because that woman is a badass.

Grenda: Grenda has grown up as a bit of a gym rat. She was studying to be a personal trainer, and the girl is fucking ripped these days. She also wears a lot of athletic wear, so her apocalypse wear consists of running leggings and rainbow Nikes, plus graphic tees. Her hair has gotten a bit longer since her childhood, but for the purposes of the apocalypse she keeps it in a ponytail.

Dipper: Dipper is a scrawny little nerd, and while he’s not completely helpless, his biggest strength is endurance running from years of being chased by bullies in school. He also has a tendency to border on hipster with his fashion choices. Open flannel, graphic tee, jeans, and converse tendencies. Dipper also has a blue hoodie, and his old pine tree ballcap, just for old times sake. His hair is curly and kind of a mess though.

Bill: Bill’s idea of practical comes from a childhood of being dragged on hunting trips, and his outfits now reflect that. Red and black flannel, jeans, and hiking boots. He tends to wear his crossbow over one shoulder, with a quiver on the other. As for what he looks like...this is hard, because I know that everyone and their dog has a head canon for this. But important things, he’s human, he’s got two eyes, and he’s attractive. And he’s got a good jaw, because Dipper may punch him at some point (just for being annoying, probably), and if he did that would hurt. But as for everything else? I picture a white guy light brown eyes and dirty blond hair, but you guys shouldn’t limit yourselves to that! Bill is cool because he has no standard, so play around with him a bit if you want to.

[spooksuprex]

1-170!

1: How tall or short do you wish you were? I’m good with my height.2: What’s your dream pet? (Real or not) One of those bear hunting dogs.3: Do you have a favorite clothing style? Loose and soft.4: What was your favorite video game growing up? Pokemon Emerald5: What three things/people do you think of most each day: My friend from Arizona, my writing, and general story ideas.6: If you had a warning label, what would yours say? Uber awkward.7: What is your opinion on [insert person/thing here]? [insert person/thing here] is the worst thing ever8: What is your Greek personality type? [Sanguine, Phlegmatic, Choleric, or Melancholic] Melancholic9: Are you ticklish? Yes10: Are you allergic to anything? Pollen, and a specific brand of allergy medicine.11: What’s your sexuality? Heterosexual12: Do you prefer tea, coffee, or cocoa? Cocoa.13: Are you a cat or dog person? Dog.14: Would you rather be a vampire, elf, or merperson? Vampire, so I can wear a cape.15: Do you have a favorite Youtuber? Hat Films.16: How tall are you? 6′1″17: If you had to change your name, what would you change it to? Vladimir.18: How much do you weigh? [Only ask this if you know the user doesn’t mind!] 31719: Do you believe in ghosts/spirits? Yes.20: Do you like space or the ocean more? Space.21: Are you religious? Not really.22: Pet peeves? Not soaking dishes before washing them.23: Would you rather be nocturnal or diurnal [opposite of nocturnal]? Nocturnal24: Favorite constellation? Uh... big dipper?25: Favorite star? North star I guess?26: Do you like ball-jointed dolls? I think they’re neat27: Any phobias or fears? Spiders and bugs in general28: Do you think global warming is real? Yes, though I’m unsure how much is natural and how much is man-made.29: Do you believe in reincarnation? Eh... I don’t think its impossible.30: Favorite movie? Superman vs The Elite31: Do you get scared easily? Yes32: How many pets have you own in your lifetime? 533: Blog rate? [You’ll rate the blog of the one who’s asking.] 11/1034: What is a color that calms you? White, reminds me of my bed.35: Where would you like to travel and/or live? Hmm... Italy would be interesting to visit.36: Where were you born? Indiana37: What is your eye color? Green38: Introvert or extrovert? Introvert39: Do you believe in horoscopes and zodiacs? Not really, but they’re neat.40: Hugs or kisses? Hugs41: Who is someone you would like to see/visit right now? My friend from Arizona... or kara, so I can “thank” her for sending this to me.42: Who is someone you love deeply? My dog43: Any piercings you want? No.44: Do you like tattoos and piercings? Tattoos yes, piercings no.45: Do you smoke or have you eiver done so? Once. It sucked.46: Talk about your crush, if you have one! ... My friend from Arizona. We’ve talked for a long time, and every time it always makes me super happy. She’s funny, kind, a bit goofy... She’s very memorable and its hard not to think of her.47: What is a sound you really hate? A train braking48: A sound you really love? A fan blowing49: Can you do a backflip? No50: Can you do the splits? No51: Favorite actor and/or actress? Nicholas Cage52: Favorite movie? Superman vs the elite... again53: How are you feeling right now? Annoyed at this length of this.54: What color would you like your hair to be right now? Brown, which it is.55: When did you feel happiest? When I’m talking to my friend from Arizona.56: Something that calms you down? Drawing.57: Have any mental disorders? [Only ask this if you know the user doesn’t mind!] Autism.58: What does your URL mean? A bear that is ghostly.59: What three words describe you the most? Big, quiet, smile.60: Do you believe in evolution? Yes.61: What makes you unfollow a blog? When they annoy more often than they post neat stuff.62: What makes you follow a blog? Neat stuff, like art.63: Favorite kind of person: People who can do their damn jobs.64: Favorite animal(s): Dogs65: Name three of your favorite blogs. karawaltersuniverse, puublack, candygarnet66: Favorite emoticon: :D67: Favorite meme: I lived, Bitch68: What is your MBTI personality type? Dunno, don’t feel like doing the test.69: What is your star sign? Cancer, I think.70: Can your dog roll over on command, if you have a dog? No, she can sit tho71: What outfit out of all your clothes do you like to wear the most? Work pants, loose T-shirt72: Post a selfie or two? No.73: Do you have platform shoes? Nope, don’t need ‘em74: What is one random but interesting fact about yourself? I once had a swing set fall on my head and I didn’t get a concussion75: Can you do a front flip? No76: Do you like birds? Yes77: Do you like to swim? Yes78: Is swimming or ice skating more fun to you? Swimming79: Something you wish didn’t exist: Assholes80: Some thing you wish did exist: Pokemon81: Piercings you have? Noone82: Something you really enjoy doing: Writing83: Favorite person to talk to: Karawaltersuniverse.84: What was your first impression of Tumblr? Weird, obsessed with social justice.85: How many followers do you have? 17986: Can you run a mile within ten minutes? No87: Do your socks always match? No88: Can you touch your toes and keep your legs straight completely? Nope.89: What are your birthstones? Ruby90: If you were an animal, which one would you be? Cat, so I can sleep all day.91: If a flower could aesthetically represent you, what kind would it be? Peony92: A store you hate? Target.93: How many cups of coffee can you drink in one day? None94: Would you rather be able to fly or read minds? Fly.95: Do you like to wear camo? No.96: Winter or summer? Winter97: How long can you hold your breath for? I dunno.98: Least favorite person? Annoying coworkers.99: Someone you look up to: This sounds cliche, but Leonardo Da Vinci.100: A store you love? Kroger101: Favorite type of shoes Boots102: Where do you live? Indiana103: Are you a vegetarian or vegan? If so, why? No.104: What is your favorite mineral or gem? Ruby105: Do you drink milk? Yes.106: Do you like bugs? No.107: Do you like spiders? No108: Something you get paranoid about? Being gossiped about behind my back.109: Can you draw: Fairly well110: Nosiest question you have ever been asked? Look down five questions.111: A question you hate being asked? This one.112: Ever been bitten by a spider? No113: Do you like the sound of waves at the beach? Yes114: Do you prefer cloudy or sunny days? Cloudy115: Someone you’d like to kiss or cuddle right now: .... my arizona friend.116: Favorite cloud type: White floofy ones117: What color do you wish the sky was? Orange118: Do you have freckles? No119: Favorite thing about a person: Their hair120: Fruits or vegetables? Fruits121: Something you want to do right now: To be done with this.122: Is the ocean or sky prettier? Sky.123: Sweet or sour foods? Sweets124: Bright or dim lights? Dim.125: Do you believe in a certain magical creature? Ghosts.126: Something you hate about Tumblr: The community.127: Something you love about Tumblr: My friends.128: What do you think about the least? Toast.129: What would you want written on your tombstone? “This isn’t the last you’ll see of me!”130: Who would you like to punch in the face right now? The person who wrote this.131: What is something you love but also hate about yourself? My beard132: Do you smile with your teeth showing for pictures? no133: Computer or TV? Computer134: Do you like roller coasters? No.135: Do you get motion sickness or seasickness? No.136: Are your ears lobed or attached? I assume lobed.137: Do you believe in karma? Yes138: On a scale of 1-10, how attractive would you say you are? 3139: What nicknames do you have/have had? Cory, corky, cody, corey, coby, cornbeef, cornbread.140: Did you have any pretend or imaginary friends? No.141: Have you ever seen a therapist/shrink? Yes, when I was younger.142: Would you say you are a good or bad influence to others? I’d hope good.143: Do you prefer giving or receiving gifts/help? Giving144: What makes you angry People who can’t do their damn jobs.145: How many languages do you speak fluently? One.146: Do you prefer boys, girls, and/or non-binaries? Girls.147: Are you androgynous? No.148: Favorite physical thing about yourself: My hair.149: Favorite thing about your personality: The fact I like to try and see both sides of an issue.150: Name three people you would like to talk to right now in person. My Arizona friend, Leonardo Da Vinci, and karawaltersuniverse so I can choke her out for making me do this.151: If you could go back into time and live in one era, which would you choose? Renaissance.152: Do you like BuzzFeed? No.153: How did you meet your spouse/girlfriend/boyfriend/partner? [If you have one.] Ain’t got one.154: Do you like to kiss others’ foreheads or hands for platonic reasons? No.155: Do you like to play with others’ hair? No.156: What embarrasses you? My looks.157: Something that makes you nervous/anxious:158: Biggest lie you have ever told: I once said I threw up to get out fo work.159: How many people are you following? 382160: How many posts do you have on your blog(s)? 18,641161: How many drafts do you have on your blog(s)? 32162: How many likes do you have on your blog(s)? 17,453163: Last time you cried and why: Couple weeks ago, had a bit of a funk.164: Do you have long or short hair? Short.165: Longest your hair has ever been: Like... two inches?166: Why do you like, dislike, or have neutral feelings about religon? Neutral167: Do you really care how the universe and world was created? ... Not really. I got shit to worry about.168: Do you like to wear makeup? Nah.169: Can you stand on your hands or head for more than thirty seconds? No.170: Did you answer the questions you were asked truthfully? Yes, you fuck.

#karawaltersuniverse

[pinesofthemind]

Alcohol is one hell of a drug part 1 out of 3

Okay so quick note, i decided to have this in three parts instead of two so i could go into more detail with the story, i don’t know if that’s good or bad but i’ll let you decide that. Anyway the twins are 18 here and celebrating it with their parents gone for the weekend, have a good read and may lordcest be with you~~~~~

Mabel and Dipper each stare at their collective bottles beside the square desk in Dipper’s bedroom.

‘Okay so here’s the plan, the smirnoff is mine and you can have the Echo Falls, deal?’

 ‘Dip come on why do i get the cheap wine drink?’

 ‘Mabel i don’t wanna go guns blazing and give you jack daniels, so just stick with what you got’.

 ‘Ahh come ooooooon, i’m sure i can handle it bro’

 Dipper thought about it for a second, taking his hat off his head and scratching his temple from left to right. Maybe, if he kept an eye on Mabel she could have it in moderation. Considering she hadn’t ever drank alcohol he had to approach this cautiously. Everyone has a type of drunk they often tag themselves to, Mabel doesn’t know hers yet. This could be the night she discovers that side of her. Dipper accepts this inside himself and twists the cap into position to pop it back on his head. ‘Alright, i’ll give you some but remember that we have to share it. Since we don’t have a third person to keep an eye on us both, i’ll be the guard.’

 ‘Oh come on Dippy this is our big night, can’t you just let go of this cautious side for once in your life?’

 It was true, this was his and Mabel’s 18th, they had to go all out. The age of becoming an adult, something both of them craved, after being a teenager. Dipper hesitantly agreed to Mabel’s plea and the night was well underway.

 Dipper began to pour out the vodka into clear cups of plastic, they didn’t want to have the hassle of cleaning the glass cups in the morning to hide the smell of alcohol. He stopped when both of the cups had been half full. They looked at each other and then the cups, spinning around in it lay regrets, lost thoughts and an abyss of emotions. They both knew this, Dipper had gone to a party with Mabel before and witnessed it all. Some people were crying, making out in the toilets or throwing up in them. He lifted up his head and straightened his neck ‘okay Mabes you know very well that we need to control the amount we drink right? Enough to make up tipsy, but not enough to be puking out our innards for three hours straight’. ‘Yea yea gotcha bro come on let’s get started!’ Dipper raised his hand from underneath the table and gripped the side of the cup, it almost slipped out of his hand. ‘Damn it, well...no regrets from here on out’ he thought to himself. He forced the cup to his mouth as he chugged the alcohol through the fiery flames that had suddenly ignited in his mouth. ‘Chug chug chug chug!’ Mabel was chanting repeatedly, Dipper realised the amount of mess he would soon be in, but he didn’t care, thanks to Mabel. He finished the last sip with a lick of his lips and crunched the cup in his hands out of the pure cringing his mouth had gone through. ‘Wooohooo atta boy dip’ Mabel congratulated him on the successful downing of it as she was soon to put herself through it. ‘Mabel just a quick tip, when you down it and finish with the cup just scrunch it up okay? It helps take away that tight feeling in your mouth’, ‘aight bro i’ll do it’.

 Mabel picked up her cup and downed the concoction like a pack of smile dip. Dipper looked onward, amazed at how she could take something like this as a first time drinker. However, she couldn’t overtake the same feeling that her brother felt with the tightening of her jaw and so followed her brother’s words to a tee. ‘Mabel you sure this is your first time drinking?’

 ‘Yep, i never thought it would taste this sour though bleughhh’

 ‘Yeah you just have to get used to that, i guess there’s nothing much we can do about it’

 ‘Well okay, what do you wanna do?’

 ‘Huh?’

 ‘What do you wanna do dip? We can watch TV, play games truth or dare who knows what two drunk teens could possibly accomplish?

 ‘Well since you insist, why not try watching that new Ducktective reboot they’re making, apparently it’s pretty good’

 ‘Sounds like a plan Captain Dipper, go grab the remote it should be on now’

 Dipper walked over to the cabinet and took off the remote from the top draw. He scuttled over to the bed and jumped next to his sister. They both got comfortable and tuned in to the Ducktective reboot.

  It was sometime through the movie that the alcohol they had drank earlier began to take effect, Dipper could feel his head start to swirl around whenever he glanced at Mabel. His sense of touch slowly numb, he could no longer feel the warmth of his blanket or the radiating heat of his sister. What could he do now though? Sure he felt the good vibes flowing but he’s not sure what to do when recognizing the moment of it all. He turned to Mabel to see her blankly staring at the TV, ‘Mabel you alright? You been like that since we sat on the bed’, ‘Dipper….why does everything feel so spacy?’ she took her hands away from her sides and moved them in a pattern of circles in front of Dipper’s face. ‘Well that’s the effect of alcohol babe’, Dipper’s eyes widened as he blinked several times, what did he call her just now? Okay that couldn’t have been him, must’ve been Mabel saying it in his voice as a quirk of her drunk behaviour. ‘Woah woah dipper’ Mabel rubbed her eyes softly ‘did you just say that?’ ‘no no i didn’t’ dipper awkwardly started to scratch his forehead, ‘it was the TV see? We still have the ducktective reboot on’ he felt his hand sluggishly return back to his side, but his eyes stay attached to his sister. It was amazing how pretty she really was up close, he’d always wondered how she couldn’t find a boyfriend, maybe guys just didn’t find her goofiness charming. He felt his eyes fall from her face to her lips, the smooth surface and texture they offered drew Dipper in with promises of excitement and wonder.

 ‘Mabel…’

 ‘Yeah….’

 ‘I-is it alright if i ask you...something?’

 ‘Uhhh, sure go ahead space raider’

 ‘C-can you close your eyes for a second?’

#pinecest #ship #mabelxdipper #fanfiction #pinecestbug #drugs

[animationnut]

To Gravity Falls, From Piedmont: Chapter 21

Summary: It’s a long way until next summer. Until then, Dipper and Mabel share their daily antics and life problems with their lifelong friends and attentive great-uncles through an endless string of e-mails. Distance makes the heart grow fonder after all, and there’s no place Dipper and Mabel love more than Gravity Falls. 

                                                   Chapter List

To: Mabel Pines (ShootingStarRainbowUnicorn); Dipper Pines (GhostHarasserfan); Stanford Pines (Highsixer); Stanley Pines (StantheMan); Soos Ramirez (QuestionMarkDude)

From: Wendy Corduroy (Lumberchick)

Subject: Greatest snowman to ever exist

1 Attachment (Photo File)

This wicked snowstorm means no school, and no school means complete freedom. My brothers and I worked together to build this snowman, which is totally the best snowman ever created and you can't tell me otherwise.

See all messages in this thread (Expand)

Mabel Pines: Oh my gosh! It's amazing! How much tape did you need to use to get it to hold up the axe?

Wendy Corduroy: About two rolls. But it's okay. They look like bandages covering a really nasty wound.

Dipper Pines: Whose ushanka did you steal to give it a hat?

Wendy Corduroy: My brothers had to draw straws. Glen lost.

Stanley Pines: You don't know how much I wish I was in Gravity Falls right now. Soos, take a baseball bat to it!

Soos Ramirez: No way, Mr. Pines. Snowmen have a right to exist too.

Wendy Corduroy: Don't be jealous just because you know you could never craft a good a snowman as mine.

Stanford Pines: I suppose you know what you're about to start with a comment like that.

Stanley Pines: It's on, Missy. I'll make a snowman that'll kick yours to the curb and steal its wallet.

Stanford Pines: I'll admit you've always been creative, but your crafting skills have never been up to par.

Soos Ramirez: Mr. Pines made all the exhibits at the gift shop. He's the best crafter there is.

Stanley Pines: You tell him, Soos. Poindexter may be able to invent weird gadgets, but he knows nothing about artsmanship.

Stanford Pines: First of all, that's not a word. Second of all, you don't need to be a genius (which I am) to beat you in a snowman building contest.

Wendy Corduroy: Ah yeah! Here comes the smack-down! My entry is already done. Feel free tearing each other apart for my entertainment. I've clearly won.

Soos Ramirez: Your lumberjack snowman is pretty rad, but I've been building snowmen for years. Abuelita said I was the best at it. Dunno if you can beat that.

Stanley Pines: All right Ford, looks like we're making a detour to a wintry place. I've got some hopeful souls to crush. Especially yours.

Mabel Pines: Woo-hoo! Let the games begin!

School bag slung over one shoulder, Dipper entered the kitchen to retrieve a can of soda from the fridge. He popped the tab with one hand while he used the other to dig his phone out of his pocket. He read through Wendy's email to see the comments made after his, eyebrow raising.

"Mabel, encouraging them makes it worse!"

His sister appeared in the entryway, Waddles skittering behind her on the hardwood floor. "They would have turned it into a competition anyway. I'm just showing my support."

Dipper sat down at the kitchen table and dropped his bag to rest by his sock-clad feet. He studied the picture Wendy had attached to her e-mail again, grinning at the ice and snow creation that loomed a head taller than the redheaded female. There was a dark brown ushanka pulled over the top, smallest snowball, a pair of acorns for eyes, a broken handle of a pick for a nose and the metal handle (from what Dipper assumed to be the same pick) for the mouth. There was a red plaid wool jacket shrugged over the middle snowball and through the arms of the jacket were two thick pieces of chopped wood. At the ends of the wood were frayed white work gloves. Attached to the right glove was an axe, held in place by black tape.

"Isn't it cool?" sighed Mabel wistfully, peering over her brother's shoulder. "I like California, but the problem is that we don't get snow days. While we were doing math Wendy was making a snowman."

"How cruel life can be," quipped Dipper.

Mabel poked the back of his neck. "Come on. As much as you love school you'd love a snow day."

"I would," Dipper failed to deny. "But that's not going to happen. We'll just have admire the snowmen from afar and be with them in spirit."

Propping her chin against the top of Dipper's head, Mabel wondered, "What do you think Grunkle Ford will build?"

"Probably something to do with his research. If he doesn't do a life-size sculpture of the abominable snowman I am going to be rather disappointed."

"Grunkle Stan?"

The two fell into a thoughtful silence for a moment. After a while, Dipper replied, "I honestly couldn't begin to imagine. But I doubt it'll be appropriate."

To: Wendy Corduroy (Lumberchick); Dipper Pines (GhostHarasserfan); Mabel Pines (ShootingStarRainbowUnicorn); Stanley Pines (StantheMan); Stanford Pines (Highsixer)

From: Soos Ramirez (QuestionMarkDude)

Subject: Behold the beauty

1 Attachment (Photo File)

Yo, dudes.

No offense, Wendy, your snowman was super cool, but mine's super cooler. It sparkles and it has some oomph to it. I just wanna thank my inspiration for motivating my creativity. Couldn't have done it without you.

Soos out!

Lying on her back in the soft grass, Mabel splayed out, absorbing the sun's rays. Waddle laid across her stomach, nibbling at the hem of her light blue fleece sweater. Dipper was beside her, reclining against a looming oak tree, nose buried in a book. They were both distracted from their peaceful relaxing as their phones beeped in unison, alerting them to a notification.

Mabel grunted as she sat up, careful not to dislodge Waddles completely. She moved her sunglasses to rest on top of her head so she could get a better look at the screen. Her eyes lit up when she realized Soos had completed his entry in the impromptu snowman contest and eagerly clicked the attachment.

Positioned in front of the icicle-covered Mystery Shack was a life-size sculpture of Melody. The hair was made of strands of hay, packed closely together so that it seemed like it had density to it. A pair of sapphire-coloured plastic gems were used for eyes. A purple jacket hung on its arms and torso and somehow Soos had managed to attach a pair of jeans.

"Wow," said Dipper, eyes wide. "Abuelita was right. Soos is pretty dang good at building snowmen."

"You can't call this a snowman," protested Mabel. "It's a snow sculpture! It's gorgeous!"

"This is definitely going to be hard to beat," said Dipper with a grin.

Wendy Corduroy: Well dang.

Stanford Pines: That has more than just oomph, Soos. Melody must be very proud of this.

Soos Ramirez: Thanks, Mr. Pines! She loved it. But she wishes I would've asked before borrowing her clothes.

Mabel Pines: How did you get the jeans on?

Soos Ramirez: I built the legs first and then had to cut the jeans to fit them on properly. Figured it out after three tries.

Dipper Pines: Uh…does Melody know you ruined her jeans?

Soos Ramirez: Do you think she'll notice?

Stanley Pines: Eh. It's not bad.

Mabel Pines: Are you crazy? It's fantastic!

Wendy Corduroy: Like you can do any better, Mr. Pines.

Stanley Pines: Don't take your bitterness out on me because you so clearly lost. Of course I can do better. Who do you think taught Soos everything he knows?

Stanford Pines: Which probably wasn't very much to begin with.

Stanley Pines: Sure, make fun. I'll be the one laughing when I cream the lot of you.

Dipper Pines: He's got a plan. Those never turn out well.

Mabel Pines: But they're always entertaining!

Soos Ramirez: Good luck Mr. Pines! And Mr. Pines!

Wendy Corduroy: Yeah. This is going to end in disaster—and hilarity.

The voice of her teacher droning in her ears, Mabel's pen scrawled against her paper as she took notes. The shooting star charm of her bracelet clattered softly against the surface of her desk as she moved her wrist back and forth. Heaving a quiet sigh, she shifted her gaze to the clock hanging above the door. There was still an hour before school let out and her brain had already decided to quit for the day.

Mabel paused halfway through her writing of science notes when she felt her cellphone vibrate in her pocket. She peeked over at the teacher, who was facing the chalkboard as he lectured. She positioned her textbook so that it was blocking most of her desk from his sight. She slipped out her cell and held it behind her makeshift barricade, tapping on the e-mail icon.

She grinned widely when she discovered the sender of the e-mail and looked over at her brother, who sat diagonally from her. Dipper gave her a side glance of disapproval, which evaporated when she mouthed 'Grunkle Stan'. His curiosity too great, he did the rare act of taking out his cell in class, tucking his textbook into his lap and keeping the device cloaked behind it.

Stan had sent the e-mail a couple of class periods ago, meaning that they must have missed the initial notification and succeeding ones as their friends commented. The latest remark on Stan's snowman entry finally caught their attention and Mabel could not stop the burst of surprised laughter from escaping.

Turning around, her teacher said sharply, "Do you have something funny to share with the rest of the class, Miss Pines?"

Mabel shook her head, cheeks red not from embarrassment but suppressed mirth. "No sir," she managed to choke out. "Sorry. Just thinking to myself."

Eyes narrowing slightly, he returned to the lesson as their peers gave her odd, sneering looks before going back to their own work, whether it be meticulous notetaking or lazy doodling. Dipper's shoulders were shaking from laughter, his head ducked down as he pretended to focus on the text in their science book. Mabel bit down on her bottom lip and glanced at her phone, staring at the snowman Stan had constructed.

It was a replica of himself made out of snow, wearing his wool beanie, what looked to be grey cloth from a mop making up his hair. Apart from that, the only other article of clothing this Stan snowman was wearing was a speedo. The snowman itself was positioned in the pose of the Thinker. Stan left few details out of his wintry work of art.

Mabel rested her head on the surface of her desk, silent tears of laughter trailing down her cheeks.

To: Mabel Pines (ShootingStarRainbowUnicorn); Soos Ramirez (QuestionMarkDude); Dipper Pines (GhostHarasserfan); Wendy Corduroy (Lumberchick); Stanford Pines (Highsixer)

From: Stanley Pines (StantheMan)

Subject: Now THIS is beauty

1 Attachment (Photo File)

Soos making a snow sculpture of Melody is sweet and all, sure. And let's not even get to Wendy's mundane attempt. I present to you the greatest snowman (and snow sculpture) ever created. Bask in his glory.

See all messages in this thread (Expand)

Wendy Corduroy: Oh. My. Gosh.

Soos Ramirez: Wow. It's a great likeness!

Wendy Corduroy: No. Do not support him with this one. He's a lunatic.

Stanford Pines: I promise you I had no idea what he was up to. If I had the slightest inkling, I would have knocked him out.

Stanley Pines: What's wrong with him?

Stanford Pines: IT, Stanley. A snowman is an 'it'.

Stanley Pines: Then why do they call them snowmen?

Wendy Corduroy: We're not getting off-topic this time. Why, for the love of everything, did you build a snowman of yourself without a shirt, pants, and too-small underwear?

Stanley Pines: It's artistic! Like those life painting classes or whatever. Besides, there's no greater beauty than myself.

Soos Ramirez: It's really detailed.

Wendy Corduroy: Way too detailed. And I've seen this guy in his boxers multiple times. I've seen Soos in his underwear for crying out loud. But this is way more traumatizing.

Stanley Pines: Keep on talking. I've spent my life dealing with jealousy. It just rolls of my shoulders now.

Wendy Corduroy: You are so full of it.

Stanford Pines: Right. I'm off to destroy it.

Stanley Pines: DON'T YOU DARE.

Dipper Pines: I can't believe we're related.

Mabel Pines: No offense, Grunkle Stan, but the only bathing suit I ever wanted to see you in was your old man one-piece.

Soos Ramirez: I didn't know he owned a speedo.

Wendy Corduroy: Now we all know, unfortunately.

Dipper Pines: I thought I was traumatized before. I was wrong. My consolation is that at least it's just a snow-version of him.

Soos Ramirez: It's a good ice model, though.

Wendy Corduroy: If you can look past all of…that, then I guess that it's okay. Explains where Mabel gets her artistic skills, in any case. But seriously, when did this snowman contest become an intricately-carved snow/ice sculpture contest?

Dipper Pines: Well, Soos took it up to the next level, and I think Grunkle Stan would have done this regardless. Wished you hadn't started this whole thing now?

Wendy Corduroy: Nah. I still think my snowman is the best. It's a twist on a classic.

Soos Ramirez: I think mine is the best. But that's just me, dude.

Mabel Pines: Yours is really good. But Grunkle Stan added moles to his snowman.

Wendy Corduroy: What? Like the mole he has on—?

Wendy Corduroy: OH MY GOSH HE DID HE MANAGED TO INCLUDE THE MOLE!

Dipper Pines: Mabel stop laughing! You're going to get us in trouble!

Dipper Pines: Too late.

Mabel Pines: Delete all evidence! Teacher incoming!

To: Dipper Pines (GhostHarasserfan); Mabel Pines (ShootingStarRainbowUnicorn); Stanley Pines (StantheMan); Wendy Corduroy (Lumberchick); Soos Ramirez (QuestionMarkDude)

From: Stanford Pines (Highsixer)

Subject: The original snowman

1 Attachment (Photo File)

Wendy's snowman was certainly a childhood classic, and Soos' was a touching tribute to his girlfriend, I have crafted the original snowman. It is a replica of the creature that roams mountains, causing mysterious disappearances of hikers and skiers. Its existence dates long before the discovery of the recreational activity of building figures out of snow.

See all messages in this thread (Expand)

Stanley Pines: You didn't mention my snowman.

Stanford Pines: Obviously.

Stanley Pines: Hmph. At least I know how to have fun without turning everything into some boring lesson. Seriously, the abominable snowman?

Dipper Pines: Called it. Very good choice, by the way.

Mabel Pines: You made it really tall!

Stanford Pines: Yes, I tried to make it as life-like as possible. It was difficult using a ladder in this icy climate.

Stanley Pines: He fell off of it at least three times. You should see the black eye he got.

Wendy Corduroy: Wow. Is that actual hair you used?

Stanford Pines: You'd be surprised by how much llama hair is shed.

Wendy Corduroy: I'd ask where you are but it would probably be best if I didn't know.

Soos Ramirez: Dude. That's pretty scary.

Dipper Pines: It is pretty realistic. Have you ever seen the abominable snowman, Grunkle Ford?

Stanford Pines: Not yet, but I hope to encounter it soon. However, I've done quite a bit of research and come to the conclusion that this is an accurate representation.

Mabel Pines: You guys are really great when it comes to snowman.

Wendy Corduroy: I could argue with that, but I won't. So which one of us wins?

Stanley Pines: Isn't it obvious?

Mabel Pines: How about we take a vote?

Dipper Pines: Where you have to vote for someone else. You can't vote for yourself.

Wendy Corduroy: I guess that works.

Soos Ramirez: I'm in. But do I have to vote now? This is kinda a tough decision.

Stanford Pines: We can cast our votes tomorrow morning at ten o'clock.

Wendy Corduroy: Our time zone or yours? Wherever you are.

Stanford Pines: Yours.

Stanley Pines: Deal.

Dipper Pines: Then we'll find out the winner tomorrow.

Mabel Pines: May the best snow creation win!

Dipper shook his head in amusement as he set his phone on the coffee table situated in front of the couch. "I have a feeling it might be between Soos and Grunkle Ford. Those two took it up a notch."

"I love Grunkle Stan, but I don't think anyone is going to be able to get rid of that mental image," said Mabel with a giggle.

She studied the picture of Ford's snowman, a towering mass of snow carved in the shape of the yeti. Llama hair covered every inch of the creature, black coals acting as eyes, peering ominously from a curtain of white hair. Icicles hung from the armpits and arms, the hands and feet massive in order to be in proportion to the body.

"It's not fair," she lamented, getting to her knees so she could look over the edge of the couch through the living room window. "They can play in the snow and we just got a rainstorm last night."

"It's a mud wonderland," agreed Dipper. Their entire front yard was damp and soft, the grass nearly swallowed by the thick brown mud. "Too bad there's no such thing as a mudman."

There was a pause as the twins were struck by the same idea. With a beaming smile, Mabel jumped to the floor and declared, "Let's go, brother of mine!"

"We'll make the greatest mudmen in history!" cheered Dipper.

They spared a moment to shrug on their boots and rain slickers before charging out into the misty afternoon. It took a half hour to decide what they should craft and they soon got to work. They gathered piles of mud with shovels and packed it together with their bare hands. For two hours they sloshed about in the mud, hair sticking to their foreheads and boots caking with dirt and grass.

"There!" exclaimed Mabel, wiping droplets of water from her skin and leaving a streak of mud. "It's brilliant!"

Dipper removed his phone from his pants pocket and snapped a picture of the scene. There were seven mud figures rising from the ground, and though they weren't perfect they were identifiable. There was Wendy with her ushanka, which Dipper had removed from his head temporarily, Ford with a long beige jacket, which Mabel had dug from their father's closet, Stan with his tuxedo jacket, tie and eyepatch that Dipper found from their old Halloween costumes, Soos with his green T-shirt and a question mark drawn on it, Waddles in the middle, and on either side of the mud-pig were sculptures of Dipper and Mabel. Dipper had found one of his old hats and vests to use on his mud counterpart, and Mabel had managed to affix a knit jacket and sparkly headband to hers.

"Who says we need snow to have fun?" laughed Dipper. He then looked around the yard, which now bore holes and dips from their effort to gather as much mud as possible. "Uh…as great as this is, we better put the mud back before Mom and Dad come home to find the yard torn up."

To: Mabel Pines (ShootingStarRainbowUnicorn); Grunkle Stan (StantheMan); Grunkle Ford (Highsixer); Soos Ramirez (QuestionMarkDude); Wendy Corduroy (Lumberchick)

From: Dipper Pines (GhostHarasserfan)

Subject: Mud Shack crew

1 Attachment (Photo File)

It's almost time to vote! But before the inevitable fight begins about who deserves to win, Mabel and I make our unofficial contribution with our mudmen. I present the Mud Shack crew, complete with a mud version of Waddles. We may not have snow, but we learn to work with what we have.

See all messages in this thread (Expand)

Soos Ramirez: Mud looks pretty good on me.

Wendy Corduroy: Dudes. That's pretty sweet. But yo, you're gonna wash my hat, right?

Dipper Pines: Maybe.

Grunkle Ford: I don't think I've seen soil used in such a way before.

Grunkle Stan: Talk about making the most of your environment.

Mabel Pines: I'm going to have mud in my ears for weeks, but it was worth it!

Grunkle Ford: How exactly did you manage to get mud in your ears?

Mabel Pines: I slipped and fell. A few dozen times.

Dipper Pines: We are hopelessly snowless, so we found our own way to contribute to the contest—just for fun, anyway. Are you guys ready to vote?

Wendy Corduroy: Yup.

Soos Ramirez: Totally.

Grunkle Stan: Let's start it, then.

Grunkle Ford: Why don't you kids start?

Dipper Pines: Sure. I vote for Wendy. Her snowman may not be extravagant, but it's a classic snowman, which I think was sort of the point before Soos took it to the next level.

Mabel Pines: And that's why I'm voting for Soos! His snow sculpture of Melody was really sweet and pretty, and I like that he took a different route.

Wendy Corduroy: I vote for Dipper and Mabel, because I look pretty rad as a mud sculpture.

Dipper Pines: Wait, what?

Soos Ramirez: I vote for the little dudes. It was hard making a snow sculpture, so it must have been twice as hard to make what they did.

Mabel Pines: But this is a snowman contest. We didn't make ours out of snow.

Grunkle Stan: Who listens to the rules? Not me. You get my vote, kiddos. I think I look even better made out of mud.

Grunkle Ford: It's settled, then. Including my vote, that makes you the clear winners. Substituting mud for snow is allowed, since there is a lack of snow available to you and you used alternative resources.

Grunkle Stan: But next time we have a contest you can't participate so that I get a shot at participating.

Soos Ramirez: Next year we could have a snow fort building contest!

Wendy Corduroy: I don't think so. I thought I was competitive but ya'll take it to the extreme.

Grunkle Ford: Runs in the family.

Grunkle Stan: I'll annihilate you next time.

Mabel Pines: Sweet! We won, bro! We're champions of mudmen!

Dipper Pines: Not bad for the tender age of thirteen.

#gravity falls #gravity falls fanfiction #byanimationnut #to gravity falls from piedmont #dipper pines #mabel pines #Stanford pines #Grunkle ford #Stanley pines #Grunkle stan #wendy corduroy #soos ramirez

[feferipeixes]

Innocence Is Not Knowing That You’re Innocent (1/5)

Belle knows her brother pretty well. He likes comic books, he cheats at board games, and he wants more than anything to be human again. So, when he wakes up one morning with no memory of the fact that he’s a demon, she figures there’s no reason to remind him just yet. He deserves some time to just enjoy being Dipper, and not have to be Alcor.

Unfortunately, she can’t hide Dipper from the demon forever.

Happy 5th anniversary to @transcendence-au! Here’s an RRR fic I’ve been working on for a while. Updates will be weekly!

Thanks to @toothpastecanyon​ for beta reading and generally being awesome!

(See the most updated version on AO3!)

===

“Hey Belle?”

Belle, from the kitchen, blew a large bubble and let it pop. “Yeah bro-bro?”

“Uh… what’s this?” Dipper’s voice sounded off, like he’d been staring at a problem for hours and was finally begrudgingly asking for help. This didn’t happen as often as it used to, what with him turning out to be a demon of unparalleled knowledge, but when it did he still got just as pouty and defensive when Belle teased him about it.

(Possibly poutier, even, since he loved to inform them that actually he did know everything and that he sometimes just doesn’t have access to that info.)

Which was always fun. She could use a good chuckle today. “What’s what?” she replied in a singsong voice.

“I don’t know. A hat I think? Can you come look at it?”

Belle shrugged to herself, and unceremoniously dropped the plate she had been scrubbing into the sink. She tucked the gum she was chewing into the corner of her mouth, for later use. Then she skipped into the living room, half-expecting Dipper to be holding some sort of grotesque, otherworldly horror.

What she did not expect was to find him staring forlornly at a black top hat.

“Where’d it go?” she asked, making a show of peering around the room.

“What?”

“The thing you want to show me.” She pulled a cushion off the couch and tuttered. “Where’d it go?”

“Uhh… it’s right here. The thing I’m holding. Obviously.”

Now Belle was even more confused. “Why are you asking me wh- wait a minute. Is this some sort of mind game you’re playing on me? What are the rules? Am I winning?”

“No, c’mon, Belle, seriously. Can you just tell me if you’ve seen this before?”

“I, uh… I don’t know?” Her brain was doing gymnastics trying to figure out what was going on in this conversation. Dipper really didn’t seem to be budging on whatever weird game he was playing with her, but it had to be something, because obviously the great and powerful Dreambender would be able to recognize his own hat, right?

Unless…

“Oh, okay.” He looked back down at the hat. “It’s… it’s just so weird, it’s like, it feels like I’ve seen this before, like it was mine when I was really young or something. You think that’s why I found it up in the attic?”

Belle screwed her face up. It was happening again.

“Belle? Belle?” He snapped his fingers, and she shuddered.

“That’s weird! Looks like just a hat to me, broseph!” She giggled nervously. “You said you found it in the attic? I’ll go ask dad about it!” With that, she snatched the hat out of her brother’s hands, and dashed from the room before he could complain.

Lionel was in the kitchen when she returned. He looked up from the messy pile of dishes in the sink, to his daughter who had just ran into the room and closed the door.

He raised an eyebrow. “Everything alright?”

For a minute, she just leaned against the door and breathed, big heaving breaths as if she’d just run a mile. Then she launched herself at her dad and hugged him.

“Dad!” she squeaked. “It’s happening again!”

He stared blankly at the bubbly girl attached to him. “What’s going on? What are you doing with Dipper’s hat?”

The glee in Belle’s eyes was practically tangible. “He’s doing the thing, the forget-y thing!”

It took a moment for Lionel to realize what she meant, and then he sucked in a breath. “He doesn’t remember that he’s Alcor?”

She nodded vigorously. “He’s back to -” She cut off just in time, but the word “normal” still sat heavy in the air.

“Belle…” Lionel took a deep breath in and out. “You know that’s not what’s happening. Remember what he said last time? His body is malfunctioning -- something about it trying to reapply the memory loss part of the deal I made with him. It’ll wear off sooner or later.”

There was a beat. “You know that he’s still Alcor, even when he doesn’t know he’s Alcor, right?”

Belle rested one hand on her hip and waved dismissively at her father with the other. “Duh, Dipper’s a demon, I know that. But right now, he doesn’t! I’ve been waiting so long for this to happen a second time! This could be a chance for things to be -”

There it was again, that pressure in the air from the word that Belle had now twice felt too self-conscious to say out loud. Lionel frowned during this pause, and she saw the gears turning in his head. She knew what he was thinking, what he thought she was saying, and he was totally 100% wrong because she had no problem with that fact that Dipper was actually a demon! She didn’t care what he was as long as he was still her brother, honest, and she found it quite insulting thank-you-very-much that her father didn’t understand that.

“Belle...” Lionel finally said. “He was really upset when he figured out who he was and all the memories came back. I know you’re excited, but I think it’d be best just to go ahead and tell him now, so that we can minimize the damage.”

“He’ll still be upset if we remind him now! Can’t we just let him be Dipper for a while?”

He glared at her. “He is Dipper,” he said in a tone that sent a chill down her spine, that “settle down, kids” voice that all parents have. He saw her flinch, and his expression softened, but his voice stayed firm. “Demon or not, he’s always Dipper.”

She puffed out her chest. “I know that! That’s not what I meant! I meant that he’s always saying how he wishes he could just be a normal human again. I just want him to have that chance! Please? I swear I’ll tell him eventually. That’s a Belle promise!”

She stuck her tongue out. It bumped against something in her mouth -- the gum she’d forgotten she’d been chewing. A silly idea quickly blossomed in her head. She started rapidly chewing it, staring intently at her dad as she did so, and then blew a massive, bright pink bubble. When it was about two-thirds the size of her head, she pinched the end and pulled it out of her mouth, holding it like a balloon.

“See?” she said, grinning. “I can stop before things go too far. It’s like, a metaphor!”

She giggled at her dad’s bemused expression, and dropped the gum bubble into the trash. “You’ll see! Dipper’s going to be happy, I’m going to be happy, and you’re going to be happy! Everything’s going to be great.”

There was a knock at the door to the living room. “What are you guys talking about?” came Dipper’s muffled voice.

Belle lowered her voice. “Trust me on this, dad, please?”

He sighed. “Alright.”

“Yay! You’re the best dad ever!” she squealed, clapping excitedly. She gave her dad a quick hug, and then swung the door open. Dipper, who had apparently been trying to listen to their conversation through the door, yelped and crumpled to the floor.

“Belle, ow! What the hell was that for?” Rubbing his head, he sat up, and noticed Lionel watching from behind Belle. He blanched. “I mean, heck, what the heck was that for? Sorry dad.”

Belle looked around worriedly, but Lionel was smiling. “It’s alright. Belle, apologize to your brother.”

“Come on, dad, what are we, seven?”

Dipper pushed himself to his feet and sneered, “Yeah, Belle, apologize. Look what you’ve done to me! I could’ve broken a bone!”

He laughed to himself, and for a minute, Belle just stared. Then a big grin spread across her face, and she wrapped him in a massive hug.

“Yeah, you could have! Sorry bro. It was an accident, honestly!” She let go, saw his confused expression, and could only smile wider because of it. “Things’ll be better now, alright? I’ll make sure of it.”

---

It was 6am, and Belle had never been so excited for school.

“Come on, Dipper, we’re going to be late!”

He groaned, and pulled the covers over his head. “Five more minutes, please.”

She ran over and pulled the covers off the bed. He squeaked and curled up into a ball. “Hey!”

“Sorry, bro-bro, but you can’t sleep in!”

He sat up, and stretched his arms. “Not fair. I was having the weirdest dream and you took me right out of it.”

She tilted her head. “Dream?”

He closed his eyes and nodded lazily. “Yeah, it was like something out of a movie. I had these bat wings and was flying around and casting spells on people. I know you can cast spells but I can’t, so it was pretty cool. Maybe if I write it down right now I’ll remember more of it...” He reached for the dream journal on his bedside table, and Belle flinched.

“Uhh… nope!” She knocked the journal into an open drawer and closed it. “No time for weird dreams, bro-bro! We’ve got to get to school! It’s going to be a great day!”

He opened his eyes, and for a moment Belle thought she could see something gold shimmering in them -- but then it was gone. “Okay, fine, I’m getting up. I hope you’re happy!”

“I totally am!” She danced over on arched feet to her closet to get changed, but then paused and let herself fall back to the ground. “I, uh… I hope you’re happy too.”

He gave her a look that could only be described as unimpressed. “Uh, definitely not. Why are you acting so weird?”

“Oh, psshaw, I’m always acting weird. It’s endearing!”

With that, she hopped into the closet and shut the door. She pulled on her space leggings, she tied a ribbon in her hair, and she saw herself frowning in the mirror. Dipper wasn’t happy yet -- not the end of the world, but she did sort of think he’d be happy right away, especially because waking up early to go somewhere you don’t want to go was an extremely typical human activity. But that was no matter, she told herself, because the main attraction of the day was still ahead.

School could be rather touch-and-go for Belle, but today she was really feeling alive. She waved goodbye to Dipper as he went off to his first class, and she could see through the sleepy, half-bored look in his eye and see that he was excited for the day, she knew it had to be true, because even she was excited.

She skipped down the hall, stopping to chat with Alistair; to grab a water bottle from her locker because she left her pretty glittery unicorn one at home; and to give a high five to the janitor because he was really nice once you got past the whole spitting acid thing.

She took her usual seat when she arrived at class, and sat with her back straight and her hands folded over. Today, not even her fantastical thoughts could distract her from class, because her fantastical thoughts were about class. She couldn’t care less about the different types of rocks and how they were formed, but she was attentive because she was imagining how happy Dipper must be in his class, receiving some equally boring lecture.

School was totally something he wouldn’t be able to enjoy as much as a demon, partially because his powers gave him access to almost all knowledge anyway, but also because getting beaten into the ground by the American public education system was a privilege that only mortals tended to get. She knew that he hadn’t gotten to go to high school, since the Transcendence had happened when he was 12, and though he had been attending it with her this whole time anyway, he occasionally complained about the fact that he couldn’t have a genuine experience with it because he wasn’t a powerless teenager. She didn’t 100% understand his motivations for that, because she was a powerless teenager and everything about school that she did like (mostly the friends she made along the way) was attainable outside of a school environment, but she’d heard the spiel enough times to know it was what he wanted.

They didn’t share any classes in the morning, so she wouldn’t get to see how much he was enjoying things until lunch. When the bell finally rang, she scampered off to the lunch hall, scooped whatever mush they were serving today onto her tray, and sat at an empty lunch table, just like always.

Dipper was often late to lunch because he liked to hang back after class and ask the teachers questions they wouldn’t be able to answer (yes, even before Gravity Falls). When he sauntered up to the table with a tray similarly filled with mush, she was positively vibrating with excitement, her bracelets jangling against each other in a symphony of uninhibited joy.

Dipper, on the other hand, seemed nonplussed. Not upset, but not overjoyed either. He didn’t say anything when he sat at the table, just started eating his nondescript lunch, and she stared at him for a bit before nervously asking:

“Are you feeling any better?”

He swallowed the bite of food he’d been nursing, and grimaced. “Hmm, I don’t know.” He opened the cup of applesauce on his tray, took a bite, and smiled wide. “Mm, yeah. Much better.”

Belle beamed, her intentions justified. “So, would you say, on a scale from 1 to 10, that you’re having a Good Time, a Great Time, or an Excellent Time?”

“I’m going to ignore how weird you’re being right now because this apple sauce is so good.”

“Hmm... I’ll just put you down as Apple Sauce out of 10.”

He swallowed the spoonful he had been savouring. “How about you?”

“What?”

He gestured at her with the spoon. “Are you… happy? Yknow, the same question you’re asking me?”

She spluttered. “Yeah, I’m having a great time! Why wouldn’t I be?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Why wouldn’t I be? You keep asking, there must be some reason.”

“Oh shush, just eat your apple sauce.”

He shrugged, and went back to his food. “People call me weird, but I guess it runs in the family.”

Belle giggled, perhaps a little too much. “It sure does! You big weirdo!”

When they finished eating, she dropped her tray off in the servery and gave him a big hug again. He blushed and yowled that he was at school, seriously Belle, you’re embarrassing me, and she laughed and stole his hat, which made him steam even more.

“Alright,” he said after he’d gotten his hat back, starting down the hall and waving at her. “See you later then.”

“Not if I see you sooner!”

He gave her a weird look, and she just finger gunned him in response. That put a smile on his face, and she skipped off to her next class, satisfied.

And for a little while, it seemed to go on like that. They high fived in the halls, they ate lunch together, they argued over the TV remote at home. Some tiny part of Belle whispered to her that this was pretty much how things went even when Dipper knew he was Alcor -- but she knew that wasn’t right. She could see that this was different, that he was smiling just a little more than he normally would, that there was something more genuine about him because, at least for a little while, he was getting to be the human he so desperately wanted to be.

So, she jumped out at him occasionally in the halls, because now she could spook him without him teleporting away. She stole his french fries at lunch because there would be no flash of serrated teeth slyly asking her to make a deal for them. At home, she threw a pillow at him so he’d drop the TV remote, because she knew a pillow fight wouldn’t end with claws out, pillows shredded, and an angry father shaking his head at them. Instead, it’d end with giggling twins telling ghost stories under a blanket fort.

And this was good, she told herself. All was right with the world. All was as it should be.

(AO3 link)

#gravity falls #transcendence au #dipper pines #alcor the dreambender #belle sterling #dipper sterling #lionel sterling #rrr #fic #my stuff