#probably errors

[anonymergremlin]

The nameless puppet put all his strength together, one last time. His weapon raised, his body moving towards and striking down. Geppetto tried to jump between his 'son' and 'creation', but he wasn't quickly enough. But someone else was. The sound of metal hitting flesh and blood echoed through the room. A cough shortly followed.

Between the Nameless Puppet and the puppet man was [Name], impaled by it's scissors shaped blade. "I... Know you didn't want to kill him... You just wanted... It to stop... But not like this Car-..." They dropped to their knees, quickly caught by P. Geppetto could only stare as the Nameless Puppet dropped to the ground while P held his injured lover. The man wanted to yell, to finish it himself, but what happened before his face stopped him.

"I am sorry... I... I was so scared. I had to do it", [Name] whispered while the blood filled their lungs. They could feel their lovers hand cupping their cheek, so gentle and warm. Has he always been like this? "Please... Be careful. Don't... Let anyone decide what you should do... With your life", tears started to drop down their cheeks. "Please. Just life my love... And you...", they pulled all their strength together to turn their head around, "Do the right thing... Don't mess up again... For Carlo... For him... Don't let new chance be a waste. Be a good father for him".

As they turned their head around, the felt another wetness on their face, but it was not from their tears. They looked at the puppetman's face to meet with tears filled eyes. He cried. He cried for the first time and it was for them.

With one last smile and the gentle touch of their hands they pulled him down for a kiss and spoke: "I... Wish... Your first cry would have been out of happiness and joy. I am... Sorry... That it came like this... Please don't cry anymore... Please... Forgive me... Have... A good life... I love... You"

[ramenthethird]

muahahauahaha sgrb OC angst fanfic to warm up my typing skills

was gonna post this on ao3 but decided to post it here

Let’s be honest, Shiny was a Shipper of X and Thunder ever since he came back to earth, upon waking up in the e.d.f and seeing them standing side by side, he had immediately assumed they were partners- which seemed to stagger, insult the two and confuse them greatly when he brought it up and was surprised they weren't, and as he watched the two fight side by side and how accustomed they had grown to each other, his theory only grew, He’d made bets with coworkers of the e.d.f countless times, heck! Even Alex for that matter and once even creed, betting with the nonexistent money of his that one of them would eventually confess.

But, the months dragged on as neither of them confessed or looked like they ever planned on confessing, Shiny had known that X had arrived 4 years after he and vanished which would be around the time Thunder was built so they had known each other longer than Thunder and Shiny had known each other, one of them was going to admit their robot feelings…right?

Shiny, being his child self, grew even more impatient when even after the o.r.t had shut and reopened a couple of months later, X, who they had all thought was dead from a brutal fight with an opposing mech, was alive and repaired, heck even her voice box was fixed! Now she could finally voice her feelings correctly, maybe that was all she had been waiting for! And Thunder was bound to at least hug her, and congratulate her on being back and alive right?!

Every. Singal. Time. Shiny was proven wrong, Whenever quite an aggressive kaiju fight had happened in which one of the two almost died, Thunder and X’s gaze would linger for a couple of seconds longer than usual at each other before one of them would break the gaze and return to normal, or they would stand a bit closer than usual, neither of them would speak of it.

Then finally, Shiny had enough.

Another one of these scenarios had played out, and as all four mechs walked back to base, Shiny, Thunder, Ranger X, and Light (The recent addition to the team since a couple of months ago)

As they walked, they all exchanged small talk, talking about how the kaiju had been larger than normal and so on, and of course, Thunder and X walked next to each other, only centimeters away from each other.

As they neared the e.d.f, Shiny side glanced at Light who walked near, the two smirked and nodded, 

Suddenly, Light threw her arms up and hollered, catching both the attention of Thunder and Ranger X who stopped a conversation and looked over confused.

“X! I JUST REMEMBERED SOMETHING!” Light blurted, suddenly rushing over to her at lightning speed and grabbing her arm, As X seemed startled.

“FOLLOW! IFORGOTSOMETHINGFOLLOWFOLLOWITSREALLYIMPORTANT!-” She rambled on, pulling on X’s arm and dragging her by the arm, creating an obvious trail as she dragged X away whose feet were firmly planted in the ground,  extremely confused, and tried to manage a question before Light yanked her away.

The two brothers watched confused as the two female mechs got further and further away, X glancing back every once in a while, a brief word of “help” flashing onto her screen, before long they were far enough they were just colored dots.

“What's that about?” Shiny fake asked, trying to act oblivious, setting his hands on his sides and tilting his head.

When he looked at Thunder, He was already staring at him, that “I'm so done with you” look on his face.

“No doubt you had something to do with that.”

“What??? Noooo!!!” Shiny tried to object, but Thunder only folded his arms.

“What is it Shiny.”

Shiny sighed, thinking of where to start. “You and X,” He started, crossing his arms. “What's with that?” He cocked his head.

“What are you affirming too?” Thunder narrowed his digital dot eyes.

“What I mean is- you two have been friends for over seven years! When are you gonna confess?!” He blurted.

Thunder froze, his eyes widened and he grew dead silent. He just stared at Shiny for a solid minute, before Shiny could ask him if was alright or experiencing an error, Thunder quickly turned away.

“If you mean by confessing as in confessing ‘romantic feelings,’, that will never happen because we are robots, and robots do not experience love, shiny. Me and X are only companions, nothing more.” He quickly answered, looking as if he was about to leave.

“Wait!” Shiny quickly grabbed his shoulder, which made Thunder stop.

“Are you sure about that? No ‘companions’ look at each other like you guys do, nor do they confess their feelings for the other when they high-” “WE DO NOT SPEAK OF THAT.”

Thunder's voice came abruptly and Shiny nearly jumped, he let go of Thunder and had to stifle a laugh.

“Hey- just saying!”

“My AI was simply being influenced by the spores, manipulated, I did not mean anything I said that day-”

He tried to explain, But Shiny continued.

“Didn't you tell me shortly after X ‘died’ that you had regretted not telling her some stuff?” Shiny smirked, but Thunders's solemn expression remained, he simply averted his gaze.

"I was mourning. Now that X is confirmed not dead, I..." He stopped before speaking again. "Robots do not experience love," he said, returning to the first statement.

"You love me, don't you? I mean I'm your brother!!" Shiny slowly asked. Thunder thought for a moment and was slow to answer, finding he had been proven wrong.

"That is family love. I love you as I love Alex. But loving anyone is a great enough threat as it is, that's why Alex got kidnapped all those months back." Shiny thought back on the memory and how devasted and aggressive the two had gotten upon learning of this.

Thunder began again "If I am to love someone romantically, our enemies would discover it one way or another and will use that against us and use it to hurt more people."

“So…you do love her!” A grin crept onto Shiny’s face, but Thunder seemed unfazed, and maybe a bit irritated,

“Yes, But Ranger X and I are Companions, nothing more, and it never will be anything more.” He turned to leave, but as he did, his eyes flicked sideways for a moment and his facial expression softened for a split second, but he simply turned away and left Shiny in silence, pondering his answers. As he made his way back to the e.d.f.

Shiny stayed silent for a minute before letting out a heavy sigh and turned in the direction of where X and LIght were supposed to be in the distance, to signal them back over but froze upon facing the direction.

X and Light were already there, only a couple of feet away, Light’s pupils were shrunk and eyes were wide, she locked eyes with Shiny and slowly shrunk into her shoulders, knowing she had failed her job while X stood next to her, standing motionless and tall, the same blank look on her face, and deadly silent.

“X!” Shiny found himself blurting and nervously laughing. “How- eugh…um…” He cleared his nonexistent throat. “How much of that did you hear…?”

X didn't even turn to fully face him, her head was locked pointing straight forward, where Thunder had gone.

“Enough.” 

She walked past Shiny, not looking at him or Light, making her way back to the base and saying no more.

Shiny watched the two go, X, was a good distance behind Thunder, keeping a steady pace to not catch up to him, and walked with power in her step like she usually did.

Shiny grabbed the sides of his head and groaned before muffling his face in his hands.

“That's bound to make the next couple of days awkward,” Light hissed as she approached her brother.

The two stood in silence for a minute, before Light sighed.

“....soooooo…… where's my money?”

[likesomeoneinlovee]

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫

Paring: Dbf!Joel Miller x F!reader

Words: 2.9k

Summary: Tonight’s the night Joel Miller finally let’s his feelings for you show. Or; Joel Miller half-assedly teaches you how to ride him.

Warnings: PWP. UNPROTECTED P-IN-V, big age gap, Joel is 57, Joel takes your virginity! Wow! Riding/lap riding, tummy bulge, daddy kink, creampie, pussy and cock pronouns, mentions of female masturbation, Joel, BIG DICK Miller.

Author’s Note: Here, take this no beta’d word vomit while I work on reqs! ;)

It was Joel’s neck covered in kisses, stained the color of your muted red lipstick. 

It was Joel’s hands firmly purchased on your waist as you humped his denim-clad thigh. 

Kissing him with a will and invite for his tongue. Vibrations of your moans shook down his throat. Your body finally starting to settle into his lap as he sat in the middle of your bed, your white shabby comforter detailed with a pattern of little pink flowers pooling around him, his legs tucked underneath his thighs. 

You sure as fucking hell were bound to lose the daughter-of-the-year award if your daddy comes home to a dirty house and a Joel in your sheets. 

He pulled away, the kiss ending in a sharp, wet sound. 

“This. Off.” He ordered, his eyes flicked to your top.

A free hand came up, his fingers curling underneath the hem of your tank –the same impossibly tight one that your tits have been threatening to spill out of all fucking day. Rolled over your head and thrown to the floor beside your bed, bound to be forgotten about and eventually hidden away underneath your bed skirt to be found again in the coming months.

Willing and ready you found yourself leaning in on your knees, hovering over his lap as you squirmed out of your shorts. Joel’s hands reached to pull it down your thigh at his best attempts to help you. Quickly those hands came in focused on his own clothes, his dick suffering underneath the confines of his tattered jeans.

He worked the clasp of the belt with his thumb, struggling to manage precise movements while the only light spreading into the room would be the pale glow of the moon that snuck through the slit between your curtains. Finally with a click the belt had loosened, able to thread out from the loops of his jeans, falling to the carpeted floor with a muffled sound of metal clanking against itself. 

Leaning back you awaited what you knew was to come- nearly whimpering just from the twisting low in your belly. Thick digits clamped the zipper of his jeans as he pulled it down. After a few difficult tugs down his thighs his cock sprung out. Quick, a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it motion accompanied by the sound of the thick length slapping up against his tummy.

Luckily, you didn’t blink. 

You couldn’t sit, not yet at least. Your body stilling as your brain faltered for a moment, the sight of his painfully blushed tip, precum crying from the slit– well, was distracting. It made you ache.

You stood up, your legs bucking as you tried to fight off the dizziness, giving Joel time to kick off his jeans as you kicked your shorts off of your ankle, your panties followed up. It was slow, it was fucking messy. It was two seconds away from his palm and your waist already missed the warmth. Luckily, he was quick to the scene.

His hands squeezed into the plush of your thighs, pressing his nose into your navel, craning his head forward to draw a path down to your pelvis, pressing a firm, sweet kiss to the soft skin. The pull his hands were giving your legs was silently telling you he was ready. His bare chest inflating and deflating with every long, deep breath. 

Something different twisted in your gut now. You were anxious. 

“You know I haven’t–” 

“I know.”

He did know. But he also knew a couple other things too. He knows how you fuck your pillow every night to the thought of this, he knows how you make your fingertips abuse your clit till your wrist burns. Secrets that had flurried out of your lips as you two stumbled through the doors earlier that night. 

Things you most definitely admitted to too quickly, though, you felt it couldn’t wait any longer.

“Sit. He ain't goin’ in on his own.” He said simply. Truthfully, he made a good point. 

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you slowly began lowering yourself, his hand splayed on your lower back. Closer… Closer. Until you were there, your warm, wet, bare pussy pressed against his writhing dick, now bowed between your folds. Safe and warm but not quite happy. 

Joel was shocked he hadn’t lost his mind yet.

His fingers crawled up behind you, finding the clasp to your black push-up bra and undoing it, letting it fall into his grasp before– you guessed it, throwing it to the other side of the fucking room. 

He brushed your hair out from blocking your breasts, the flesh tender, swelling with each breath. 

“Fuck me. Why’ve you been hidin’ these from me, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, an act of attitude turning into one of pleasure half way as his calloused thumb runs over a half-hard nipple. 

“I wouldn’t have minded if you noticed them before.” 

You knew your pussy was making you say that. Though, there lied some truth. You couldn’t say if Joel did walk up to you and grab your tits before all this that you wouldn’t have slapped him across the cheek. 

He swallowed as he let his face nestle between your breasts, his nose dragged up your sternum before halting at your collar.

“You would’ve.”

He stated. Simply. The palm of his right hand soothed down your waist, running his thumb across the divot between the top of your thigh and your hip before working over to your cunt. Pressing the pad firmly against your clit. Swelling up under the hood. 

“You like touching yourself here?”

Oh great, he remembers. 

Oh fuck, he remembers. 

“Yes.” You breathed. The feeling making your hips stutter into the touch. 

You were quick to get impatient especially in your pretty little head beneath every other disgusting thought, you really knew you didn’t need the foreplay, or, any more at least. You came for the real deal and that’s exactly what you wanted from him. Needed.

“Fuck me Joel, c’mon.” You were frustrated.

He would’ve told you to wait another minute, get real ready which is what he was making sure you were. He could feel how you pulsed against his cock. The pressure he felt in his length was unbearably numbing. 

He guided your legs to tie a knot around his hips, wrapping a strong arm against your lower back. 

“Gonna put your hand here– right on my chest.”

Your fingers had clung around his thumb as he guided your hand over, splaying your palm flat against his chest, his nipple pressed between your middle and index. 

“Like that?” You questioned, bordering innocence. 

“Like that.” 

Your other hand rested on his knee, that light touch turned into a firmer grip at the feeling of his cock jumping between your slit. It was a warm, sticky mess of precum and your own juices. 

“Lift.”

His breath fanned out against your neck, a warmth already creeping up your skin there. You obeyed once again, lifting your hips just a bit so he could grab ahold of his base. Trying to ignore the pulses, he glided his cockhead through your labia. Puffy, aching, leading a path to your opening. Drenched. 

It’d be a tight fit, that was for fuckin’ sure. 

He started slow, pushing– pushing. His head in a constant nod to check between your entrance struggling to stretch around his bulbous head and your beautiful, little face. 

“Breathe.” He reminded. “C’mon babygirl, let ‘Im in.”

Your hand moved up, cupping his nape instead of contently settling on his chest. You had to breathe. 

You let out another mewl as it got heavier– the pressure, the feeling of him invading your cunt. He was unnaturally large. You could excuse that maybe the female body wasn’t built to take a cock so over the six-inch mark. 

That was until you felt it: Your muscles relaxing enough to take him in with a tender inhale. Popping past your virginity, your eyes glossed over as you finally let out the moan that had been stuck in the middle of your throat since you got in his lap. Your fingers threading between the damp curls that fell against the back of his neck. 

“There she is.” His breaths were quick to turn shallow, feeling your muscles clamp down. An unwelcoming-welcome into your walls. 

“Atta fuckin’ girl…” 

“Joel–” You’d whimper, the feeling was heavy, tight. You could only imagine how he felt. 

A broad hand finds your hip, guiding you into quick, strong movements as you worked your hips back and forth, soon enough– bouncing. Joel’s balls were heavy, hitting your ass in a staccato rhythm. He was a pleaser, there wasn’t a second doubt about that fact. He fucking needed you to feel every. Last. Inch. 

Though, there was a dichotomy. Fucking your brains out or trying his best to find the words to help you. Teach you. Ultimately, it had to be the second option. Another deep pump and his head curved to kiss a soft give on your gummy walls making you moan. Loud.

If only your eyes had the strength to open– turn your head to the side to look at the hands of your clock, though in the dark room you wouldn’t have much luck anyway. Dad would be home around one– AM, Jesus Christ, It’s not that you had hoping that Joel’s old cock would be outta you soon. But at this rate, you’d need to clean, do the dishes– wash your fucking sheets now, apparently. Worry was quickly fucked out of your head, an uncontrolled rut of Miller’s pelvis led to his tip bumping into your cervix, grazing along the tissue. Fuck, that made your head spin. 

“Don’t think.” He noticed. His lips pressed against the top of your breast, hands sliding to your ribs.

“He’s too big to think, daddy.” Shaky. You had enough in you to tease him. 

His lips traced all the way to the tip of your nose, planting a firm cloying kiss there. Then your cheek, your eyelid as it fluttered shut. He could’ve came right there. He pulled you closer, his hips jumping into yours. Every now and again the rocking would get fast– thrusts mean before they slowed to calm again. His brows knitted together before he found himself taking your hand into his again. Sacredly bringing it to his chest for the second time, right below his clavicle. 

“Right there– feel that? Feel how fast you got my heart goin’, baby?” 

At first you could think the worst and assume he was trying to insinuate he was going into cardiac arrest– no, he wasn’t that elderly. W–was he? 

“I– I do.” You stammered. Nodding quickly as you pressed your hand deeper.

But once you really felt it. Heavy bumps against the middle of your palm. A fast thump-thump-thump–. It wasn’t long until you felt your gut twist. Your mouth fell slack with a sharp whine, you could feel every motherfucking vein throbbing, your walls gloving him tight, giving him zero room to breathe. 

“I do.” 

You repeated. Your thighs felt hot. Hot as in; like all the blood in your body decided to all go there. Making them buzz, your legs occasionally kicking out. Now with your body ready and begging, screaming to just reach that climax already, you were really fuckin’ struggling. It was a war between you, your body and Joel’s cock. You’ve never tried harder to keep a poker face in your life. You were teetering the line, you were gonna cum. Joel could see that. See your facade slipping. 

“She’s real good, y’know.” He said, “Squeezin’ me like she needs it.” 

“She does.” You were quick to reply to his praise, it sounded more like a cry than anything. Something that was making his ego inflate. And his cock. 

“Hurry– my– Jesus. Christ.” It was like he was waiting for your next words to push deeper, harder. His thrust pausing midway to really drive himself in. “Dad– dad’s gonna be home soon–” 

Joel bit back a smirk at the mess he was making of you. Understanding how it must’ve felt for you. Poor, pliant girl. Completely cock-drunk and there was no way around the fact. Your body squirming, wriggling against him. His fingers dug into the soft plush of your ass. 

“Hm? Daddy’s right here, baby.” He cooed.

Oh, you were gonna fucking kill him after this. 

He withdrew, his jaw slacked as shallow, shaking breaths puffed out from salvia slicken lips. The slick, glistening head of his dick quickly forced right back into you, continuing the rhythm he had found that perfectly suited. Back and forth. Back. And. Fucking. Forth. 

His eyes locked on you. Not your face: your thighs, him between your thighs. The bump-out in the low of your tummy showing just where his cock was. His thumb ran right above where his base was buried, up, up, finding that pretty pink pearl hiding beneath the surface. With a firm pressure, he began thrusting his thumb forwards and back. Your cunt fluttering every time.

“Feel that? Feel me?” His cock curved up, pressing against yet another dizzying spot.

Your slender fingers moved down your highly sensitive body, haphazardly ghosting over your low stomach. And there you felt– him. So close, so intimately close. 

“C’mon, cum f’me, baby. I know you need’ta…” He urged.

It was your final straw, apparently your body’s as well.  

“Fuck, fuck–Joel–!” You felt the knot in your pelvis pinch tighter. “Daddy– fuck–!”

It was a choked cry as your hands spastically found his shoulders, fingers squeezing into the muscle painfully hard. A thick, pulsating numbness that made your walls spasm around Joel’s cock, forcing your head to be thrown back, eyes squeezing shut. You wanted to scream. Your body scorching hot, every damn inch of you. It wasn’t an orgasm you had given yourself from pure clitoral. No, so fucking different. It was– wetter. Joel’s hips slammed upwards a final time. This time faltering, stopping to press right into you as he came. Balls drawing up as thick, hot ropes of semen filled your poor, abused cunt. Painting your walls an opaque white. 

“Shh shh– s’okay.” He whispered, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear, salt and pepper facial hair tickling, testing your sensitivity. 

Your clit rubbed against the greying, wiry curls crowning his base, a mixture of your orgasms dripping down his shaft, your lips parted, heavy pants mixing with whines continued to shamelessly drip off your tongue. And suddenly, Joel stopped, you swore, from what you could see, the color drained from his face– 

“Pill?” 

Pill–? The fuck was he– oh.

Oh, motherfucker. 

The aftershocks of your climax still buzzed throughout your body, clouding every inch of your breathing– the fog especially swelling inside your head, though, you mustered up enough to reply.

“I thought I told you. No.”

You stated. Firm.

Funnily-e-fucking-nough, you did tell him. Granted, maybe it was mutterings of a half-baked version of you, but, inevitably, still you. Your head fell forward into his chest as his hand wrapped around his base, wincing as he pulled himself out of you. His dick throbbed, aching to bask in your warmth once again. It was one helluva way to kill a moment. Whatever moment that was supposed to be. 

Your body still bloomed with warmth as he laid back with you, soothing his palm down your arm.

“The pharmacy is right on my way here.” He murmured. “I’ll pick up Morning After’s before you even wake up.”

His promise was calming to you, a lazy smile came over your face as you relaxed with him. He was trustworthy, this wouldn’t be a man who’d say something like that and not follow through, this was, well, Joel. It was Joel. 

You could always rely on Joel. 

Sweet silence was soon rudely interrupted by the sound of a truck pulling into the asphalt, Fuck fuck fuck! That was your dad’s truck, the brights shining blindingly through your sheer drapes, you and Joel laying in bed, well, like deers in headlights.

You so rudely pushed away from Joel, stumbling over to the bath robe hanging on the knob of your closet door– and Joel, well, was too fucking slow is what he was.

“You need to get the fuck out!” You hissed.

Joel, standing in the middle of your room with a cock still slick with both of your cum, scrambling to find his fucking boxers– did you have a fucking void in your floor?! He picked his jeans up, tripping into them as you placed your hands on his arms, pushing him towards the window–

“Jesus, sweetie– h-hold on–!” 

That’s the thing, you couldn’t. As soon as you heard the front door open your stomach sank, nauseatingly low.

“Out, NOW!” 

You were harsh, sure. But for all the right reasons. You felt bad kicking him out in unzipped jeans and no shirt, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead only forcing him to do the walk of shame alllllll the way back to his house. Which luckily was only a block away. Anyone with eyes and a window facing the sidewalk could see him– so theoretically, everyone in the neighborhood. 

You were just about to slam the window shut into his fingers before he stopped you, his hand cupping your cheek, thumb running along your bottom lip like he had the time. 

“See you in the mornin’.” 

He smiled. Lazy, tired. But genuine. It made your stomach flutter. 

“See you…” You returned the smile. Shutting the window as silently as you could as you watch him stumble his way out of your yard. 

The fact you had turned this poor, fifty-seven year old man into a hormonal teenager again was starting to set in. 

[rosieyart]

um. i don’t think tumblr is much of a video posting place, but i’m going to leave this here bc it has drained me of three months of working 🥲👍

[cherry-mash]

i was a ichiji for shots, but a niji for splinters THE DRAMATICS i threw~ this is so messy but i love it that way to indicate chaos... yes that's the reason

ps the tag "vinsmoke get along au" isn't just for the kid strip here! i'm using it as a tag to indicate the quadruplets depicted are ones that love each other and aren't emotionless so feel free to use it yourself ^^

previous/first / next

[sandeewithtwoe]

Error’s tier list

Error belongs to loverofpiggies

Ink belongs to comyet/myebi

(Rest of the credit below the cut +transcript)

Classic - Toby Fox

Fell - Underfell

Outer - 2mi27

Killer - rahafwabas

Bird - Greyscales (ao3)

Abyss - metakazkzk

Alter - friisans

Bill - hwamyong

Color - superyoumna

Cross - jakei95

Dream - Jokublog

Dance - dancetale

Dust - ask-dusttale

Insanity - u-t-f

Epic - yugogeer012

404 - vibeless15

Fatal - xedramon

Fresh - loverofpiggies

Geno - loverofpiggies

Hard - CedDrawsNear (YouTube)

Horror - sour-apple-studios (deviantart)

Lust - NSFWShameCave

Mafia - mafiatalevn

Nightmare -Jokublog

Passive - Jokublog

Reaper - renrink

Saness - Sr Pelo (YouTube)

Sanstrocity - help-tale

Trainer - friisans

Crossbones - tsunderswapofficial

Tone - shirokappa

Delta - animated Zorox (YouTube)

Wiki - Paintedhen

Transcript:

Ink: Heyyyy, Error! Whatchu doing?

Error: Making a tier list of every Sans I know

Ink: Oh! Can I see?

Ink: Woah…

Ink: Wait a sec…

Ink: Why is Killer in F tier?

Error: The Classic Sans that doesn’t even act like a Classic Sans? Do you take me for a joke?

Ink: But… He’s like a sad wet cat! I thought you like characters like that

Error: … I think you’re mistaking me for Nightmare

[raphaerolo]

wlw codywan anyone?

[chongoblog]

Writing tip: As you write your stories you might hear the voice of Jeremy CinemaSins saying something like “these two characters are talking in a cave? And yet they can see everything that they need to see for the story just fine?” When you do (and this is so so important), kill that voice with hammers

[falafels]

renee walker is 7 hours away from having spent more time playing minecraft than she spent in a juvenile detention centre. dan wilds is half indian but didn’t know her mom well and has been trying to learn hindi on duolingo then giving up then trying again for about six years. nicky is banned from the only pet store in palmetto. katelyn is from minnesota. andrew had his first ever panic attack during a mandatory team building exercise at school the one where they make you pick each other up and if you don’t like touching or are insecure about your weight then you want to die and take everyone there with you. matt boyd is incapable of eating a moderate amount of strawberries and will gorge himself to the point of diarrhoea every single time. allison’s glove box doesn’t close properly anymore because she broke the hinge cramming too much shit in there (nail polish, mace, exy gloves, annotated vogue catalogue, earrings, lip balm, neil’s ugliest jorts, deodorant, body spray, second deodorant for when kevin steals the other one, strawberry laces, condoms, save the planet leaflet, gum, one high heel, tiara she acquired on a night out, about $12 in loose change, one of neil’s fake IDs, eyeliner pencil, mascara, taser, collar she found in the corridor at fox tower that she’s 90% sure nicky got for one of andrew’s cats but won’t ask because of the other 10%, single loose battery). aaron is allergic to face paint. kevin always believes he can do a backflip if he’s been drinking martinis but has only ever landed it once. jean moreau has five sylvanian family figurines (two from renee two from laila and one he and cat found in a thrift store) and he says they are pointless but loves them and sometimes taps them on the head before he goes to sleep to say goodnight.

[moonriase]

Losing a kid is hard on everybody.

[forgettable-au]

Waittaminuine...

windings so far had been speaking with his mouth closed, while papyrus open his mouth when speaking!

I like that fun detail!!!

( wait is that gonna be relevant lorewise- THE ACCIDENT CRACKED HIS JAW TO OPEN???)

It's a small detail, but I love when new people notice it The reason for this design choice is that I wanted Wingdings to be more visually similar to Sans I've said this before, but the reason Papyrus DOES open his mouth is because most other monsters do it... so he assumed he needed to do it too...now he thinks Sans is lazy for not doing it

[vitamin-zeeth]

tiny detail that I find very funny about this week's game changer ep is that demi's pronouns are listed as he/him when in last weeks parlour room they were he/they

what happened. did he just decide to shake it up for just one week. does being on parlour room turn you nonbinary exclusively for the duration of the show. I need answers.

[limerlove]

WITH GIN IN JULY

❝ ABBY ANDERSON!ONE SHOT ❞

ෆ | pairing. enemies to lovers!abby x female!reader

abby anderson? she's a fucking nightmare. with everyone in her back pocket, she adores all. the golden girl, but to you she's just the asshole not to be trifled with. a kind heart to everyone, except you. you hate her and she hates you. what could possibly change that?

warnings. eighteen+, nsfw content: 3k wc. smut, oral sex, fingering, no strap so stop complaining ♡ (this is a joke don’t attack me), a lot of fucks said, enemies to lovers, me being in love with abby, yk there’s a recession when i’m throwing fluff in a fic. okay, ray. shut up.

Apprehension runs cold in her veins, ice for blood with a small throttle for a pump — she’s a fucking nightmare wrapped in a devil’s daydream.

To everyone else, she's the perfectly nice, perfectly fine girl. The two of you introduced to one another in the first week of July, the weekend of the forth. All of your friends raved about how kind Abby is, a heart of gold, is what they all said.

In all honesty, you had even been thrilled to meet her. You love your little group of friends, the family you never had but fuck are you sorely disappointed by blonde-brute.

She was anything but kind. Intentional malice laced in her deviously-blue eyes from the first time you met. As time went on, so did Abby's growing irritation. Even as the heat blossomed, she still managed to root her cruelness in rich soil.

"I just don't know what everyone sees in her! She's so mean, all the time, she's barely even human."

And here she is, simmering in the pool with her stupid cocktail and that damn gleeful smile. She taunts, under the radar of everyone else, always making you look like the monster with one evil eye and talons for hands.

“You don’t think you’re making all this up just because—” Jesse trails off but your fury is lasered on to her, not letting up for a single moment.

“Not think, I know." Continuing to rail off your tangent as you see her being warm and fuzzy with everyone else except you.

For fuck sake, she's like a goddamn teddy bear. You might hold her if she lets you but no one else besides you is going to know it.

You decide to cool off inside needing a cool drink in this excruciating heat. The first thing you’re met with is cool air-conditioning and cool white-marble floors, chilling your overheated body back to room temperature.

It’s much better this way, in silence where your disdain can rot like a sour pomegranate. Complete solitude could solidify the vindication you feel every time she throws another insult when no one else is listening.

As you're bent over, digging through the freezer to find your strawberry-lemonade you had placed there earlier you hear a throat being cleared.

You crane your neck just to see it’s her.

Picture perfect Abby, god, you wish you could slap that stupid grin off her pink and pretty lips. Always smirking at you like she knows something you can’t possibly be aware of.

“Need help?”

“Nope. It’s not like you were actually offering.” You’re short and sharp with her, keeping your interactions with Abby to the absolute minimum.

It’s better for everyone this way.

“I could help you out and—”

“We both know you won’t.” Finally, you find it, shoved at the bottom underneath the frozen fruit. But when you rise and turn around, your chest is practically pressed against hers.

She’s testing the waters, normally you wouldn’t be such an idiot. You would push her away, shoulder check her even. Or you would try. Abby’s hard to push around, half of her body weight must be muscle.

Between being a mechanic and her necessity to be a total gym addict, her build was stronger than pretty much everyone. With her strength, she pushes you against the fridge with her pelvis, shutting the freezer door shut with your frozen strawberry-lemonade in hand.

“Do we have a problem?” You pry as she looks like she wants to devour you from the inside out.

“What would make you say that?” She waits for you to respond as she stretches out her arm, palm resting by your head, seeing how far she could push you.

Like she always goddamn does.

“You’re here, hovering. God, you’re worse than my ex.” Trying to push her away, but Abby doesn’t even budge.

“Oh.” And for a moment, genuine interest flashes in her eyes. Clearly, you’ve gone senile. “You and her—”

Now, you’re over conscious in your lack of clothing as she bites her lip, sinking teeth into the flesh. Venomous glances find mercy in you, but you’re not sure why they’ve been replaced with longing.

“Why does it matter? Can you let me go?”

“Yeah, right, sorry.”

Abby apologizing? Weird.

—

The truce lasted for a single moment. Sympathy for a broken heart apparently had an expiration date, or a timer for less than twenty-four hours.

“Were you actually going to hit me?” Abby cocks her eyebrow, the gray in her eyes coming to life as a speck of desire crosses near her heart.

"I wasn't trying to hit you. If I wanted to, you would know."

You can't really say this was entirely her fault. Ever since the unintentional spilling of your forementioned breakup, she'd been looming over you. As if she was waiting for you to crack. All you wished was to forget any of it ever happened.

For a second, you thought she could be capable of kindness towards you and then when you tossed an orange to Ellie, it happened to hit her in the face.

"What do you want from me? What's it going to take for you to exercise one decently kind bone in your body?"

She's sizing you up in your bedroom door with the door shut, the one she chased you down in like you're a wild animal. Everyone in the room knew better than to chase either one of you. The two of you always fought like this.

And every single time, you worked it out enough to tolerate each other. But now Abby was witnessing the steam, the ultimate point of rage pushed past the point of containment.

"Me? What about you? Suddenly I'm the problem when you've been an asshole to me from day one. Day fucking one, Abigail."

You're pacing back and forth in your room, attempting to calm yourself down before you completely lose it and say something you can't come back from.

"Me? Like all of this is my fault? The first time you looked at me you decided you had to hate my guts." Abby catches your arm, stopping you from moving another inch.

"Let me go, now." Your voice doesn't waver for a moment, not one stutter is heard, but Abby can't help stare at your lips. Then you're staring at hers and all of it becomes crystal clear.

"Or what? What are you going to do about it?" Single handedly, her words pierce through you warm flesh, exposing the wound she created. For a moment, just for a second, you wonder if Abby’s the antidote you’ve been searching for. 

She wonders how you would react if you walked out of here, ignoring her obvious advances she keeps throwing your way. But it’s always on your terms. Abby’s too cowardly to initiate anything first. Dangling the carrot in front of you like a desperate rabbit, begging to be satiated with the first crunch. 

Stepping forward, your perfectly manicured hand strokes her freckled check, nails lightly scraping against her porcelain flesh. “I won’t have, you’ll do it for me.” 

The tone in your voice drops, smirking as Abby visibly gulps. The lump she swallows is enough indication that she’s been caught. The mean remarks, your former girlfriend at your side when the two of you met, the jealousy, the snide comments Abby would only say when it was the two of you — all of it a ruse to disguise the feelings she decided to bury deep upon your very first meeting. 

A swipe of your thumb caresses her chin, tilting her lips towards you, as her hot and heavy breath curses your lips like a sin you would be willing to die for. A small whimper falls from her, her bambi blues widen at the audible omission. A mistake, a slip-up, and fuck is it perfect. 

“Show me how much you want this, Abby. Be a good girl.” 

Hell breaks loose with those four words and Abby’s self-control is unshackled with it. Practically throwing you on the bed like a certified ragdoll, you become her own personal barbell to train with. Wedging herself between your legs that are already open for her, you’re met with tongue and teeth as she regains control. 

You have a feeling she’s not one for giving in so easily and the whimper Abby felt embarrassed by would be hard to come by, again. The sleep shorts you’re wearing give her enough access as the fabric bunches on your ass. Abby chuckles as you grind up into her pelvis, desperate for more as you practically feel her tongue in the back of your throat. 

Fingers dig into her golden roots, trying so desperately to have her whine for you again, but all you get is a moan — as pretty as it is, it’s not what you want, but it’s enough. 

For now. 

Abby separates as you help her out of the oversized sweater she was wearing with a thin pair of boxers. Here she is, baby-blue boxers hung low on her hips as your hand smoothes over her defined six-pack, muscles flexing underneath your touch. Freckled and toned, small pink nipples practically begging to be placed in your mouth. 

“Oh—” Your hands sink into her boxers, feeling her bush prickling under your touch, as your fingers slide against her drenched folds, each one fluttering as you stroke her enticing lips. “Fucking knew you liked to be praised.” 

The better part of Abby should keep her mouth shut, but when you’re taking shit all she wants is to give it right back. You’re in luck. There’s a finger slipping inside of her and her brain shuts off, she’s unable to think about anything but the sight of you biting your lips as fuck her with skilled fingers. 

Abby leans her body forward to make it easier for you, slipping deeper into your walls. Almost as if she can sense her lips about to spill, she captures your mouth, letting her moans spill in the back of your throat. Abby coats you with her sweet honey, the sounds she makes could rival an angel’s symphony. 

Hips thrusting against you — it’s a perfect moment to sleep another finger inside her — so you do. 

There’s that fucking whimper. More desperate than her stormy-blue eyes, begging to be loved. To be needed, it’s all she had been wanting from you and it’s clear as day. Abby decides she’s had enough. 

Time to even the playing field. 

Ripping the cotton right of your body, the grey-washed tank top is ruined and discarded in your bedroom. Abby latches her lips on to your breast, her forefinger and thumb pinching the other. As if she was born to do it, she suckles on your pebbled nipple, her tongue flicking over the sensitive flesh. 

Abby didn’t know how satisfying it would feel to watch you fumble with your fingers fucking her, the control slipping from your fingertips with just a suck and a flick of her tongue. All of it gone too soon as she pries your shorts and panties off in a single movement. 

As she removes herself for a second, you’re tasting her on your fingers, saturating the sweetness on your tongue. Only wishing her taste could be permanently embedded into your velvet tongue. A way to rinse yourself clean of all the impurities rotting in your brain, the taste of your cunt could bring the salvation you so desperately seek home. 

“Luck for you—” She pauses as she decorates your soft stomach in kisses, “You’re about to come harder than you ever have before.” 

Abby starts with flattening her tongue, a long and languid stripe of her tongue drags along your pussy, dipping her tongue in your clenched hole before guiding her rolling tongue on your quivering clit. 

“But after this, and mark my words, you’re never going to want anyone else but me after this.” Before you can even argue, the collected spit in her mouth drips over your pussy as she slobbers the natural lubricant on an already drenched pussy. 

“Fuck, Abby, what the—” Pushing your legs forward, knees nearly hitting your headboard as she spreads more of your cunt before she gives it her all. Focused entirely on one thing. 

Like it’s an olympic sport, her mouth wastes no time at all. Sparing no expense when it comes to make you well…come. The muscle spares no restriction when it comes to your cunt, shoving her face in your pussy, the bridge of her nose nudging against your clit as she lets her fingers sink into a weeping hole. 

The moans being released from your magnetic lips, Abby’s never heard before. Not from you or anyone she’s pinned down with her mouth. No regard for your friends who are just down the hall, hearing every word falling from your lips sound like a sanctioned prayer. 

Curses of her name fly out of your mouth quicker than you catch them, sucking the soul out of your body as she claims you in ways you’ll never come back from — true to words — in a matter of moments she’s cockily proven to be better than anyone you’ve had before. 

As you tug on the blonde roots, she glances up at you through hooded eyes, a chokehold of sultry as she divides her lips with her tongue as she doesn’t break eye contact. She holds it, just for you, as she watches and hears you scream when you slip another finger inside her. Abby curling her fingers is the last nail in the coffin as you fuck her gorgeous face. 

Those gorgeous blue eyes rivaling the beauty of sapphires. 

“God, gonna keep you right here forever. Always wanna hear you—” Abby moans into your swollen lips, kissing the sweet spot inside you, making the stars align perfectly in the back of your mind. “Say my name for me again, angel.” 

You don’t want to give in. She’s manhandled the power right out of you, as if it never had been placed in your hands to begin with. Like she had domineered you into this position. Make a dominatrix into a submission princess. But truth be told, you lost focus and Abby was there to pounce on you. Waiting for her perfect moment and capitalizing on it. 

“Don’t— fuck—I-I don’t think you deserve it.” You pause for a moment trying to control the shudder in your breath but you’re starting to believe it’s nearly impossible. 

‘“I don’t?” Without warning, there’s a harsh slap to your lips, all three fingers sinking deeper into your clenching walls. “Want to tell me what I don’t deserve again? Or does my girl want to come?” 

Before you can control it, there’s an animalistic groan pouring out of your lips, causing Abby to double down on her efforts. With deep breaths, you’re incredibly close, and with every stroke of her tongue she sends you closer to the edge. 

A stroke of her tongue, a thrust of her fingers — it’s so close you can nearly latch onto it. 

“You like that, angel? Want me to call you my girl?” You hate how cocky she is about it. Abby gleams with pride as you buck your hips into her face once again, whining at the possession. In this instant, solely belonging to the woman who’s eating you out like there’s no tomorrow, is the only desire you crave. 

“Shut up.” It’s supposed to come out intimidating, a bit ruthless even, but it’s almost comical when Abby hums into your cunt. Not when you’re so close to painting her sun kissed-cheeks with pearly white cum. 

It’s almost like she’s done this before with you, she uses her free hand to play with your nipple, like you told her it’s the one thing that can help bring you over the edge. Abby doesn’t stop sucking, on your clit, her tongue serving strokes to your clit as your thighs shake, squeezing her head as she refuses to relent her pace. 

“Choke me out sweet girl, need my baby to come—” Abby locks her eyes on you, “Keep fucking my face, yeah, good fucking girl.” 

Like a flower budding in the spring, Abby watches as your pussy flutters your stomach clenching, body writhing as she fucks you through it all. 

“Don’t stop, oh fuck me, god, that’s so good. Baby, Ohhh—” She’s practically grinning into your cunt as you hear yourself sloshing against her soaked fingers, not letting her mouth release it’s iron-grip around the clit pulsating against her tongue. 

“Fuck, you taste so sweet.” Abby is in amazement, savoring every moment of your body twitching to her touch. Until you’re spent, murmurs of too sensitive causes a small smile to grace her face. “You did such a good job, baby.” 

Abby slips on the side your body isn’t taking up, staring at the ceiling with a cheshire grin as she hears your heavy breath. It’s more than you’re usually given. She only needs to hear you struggling to know how much truth it rings. No faith is needed to see what’s right in front of her. 

Propping her head in the palm of her hand, elbow digging into the silky-satin, she can’t stop smiling at you. Half of you expects her to kick back to her normal routine of hating you — maybe Abby didn’t really like you. She just wanted to fuck. 

“You know this doesn’t have to be a one time thing—” Abby draws random patterns into your skin with the blunt of the fingernail, pawing at the skin, desperate for just a little bit more of you. “If you ever want to see stars again.” 

“I said that out loud, didn’t I?” Shamelessly, Abby nods. The warmest smile spread on her face, it’s so infectious. Her genuineness rotting through your sourness, making something entirely too sweet for you to swallow but you take it on. 

Even in fear. 

“I thought it was cute.” She’s so bashful about it, her voice softer than you’ve ever heard it. Almost delicate. 

“Mhm, if you say so.” 

“I do.” She pushes a piece of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. The love in her eyes can’t lie, you hope it’s genuine. Abby can’t stop smiling so you choose to believe it is. 

“Would you…uh—” She stutters out as you rub circles into her hips, “I wanted to ask you if you would like to go on a date sometime.” 

“You know what’s cute? Playing god with my pussy but then being nervous to ask me out on a date.” You tease her. Immediately, her cheeks morph into crimson, trying to hide as much as she can with her hands but the damage has already been done. And you don’t feel sorry about it for one second. 

“So, is that a yes?”

[rookschnapps]

narinder studying! I don’t think learning resurrection was easy

[senipsenipsenip]

Eventually, the scrapbook ended. The sun had fallen beneath the horizon hours ago, and some nagging part of Stan's brain was telling him kids shouldn't be up this late. Unless they're breaking into a mini golf course. He jerked his head back, furrowing his brow. That was...oddly specific.

"Grunkle Stan?" a little voice - Mabel - questioned. He looked down at his knee to see where his great-niece was sitting, eyeing him with no small degree of concern. "Are you okay?"

He ruffled her hair. "'Course, Pumpkin. Just trying to shake some of those memories back in the right place, huh?" He gave an exaggerated shake of his head, smacking the side like he was trying to get water out his ears. "Got a straggler! Hup! There we go," he grinned, lowering his hand. "Good as new!"

Whatever he said must have been the right thing, because Mabel's eyes had lit up like he'd told her he was turning the Mystery Shack into a cotton candy emporium and Dipper had a sudden death grip on his other leg.

"Geez kid, you're clawing through my pants here," he grumbled, making no move to take away his nephew's hand. "Haven't you chewed your nails off by now? How're they so sharp?"

"You called me Pumpkin," Mabel whispered.

"You remembered I chew my nails," Dipper said in awe. Then he frowned. "Hey, how come Mabel gets a nice one and I get a gross one."

Stan shrugged. "'Cause she's nice, and you're gross."

"Ha! Zoom!" Mabel pumped a fist in the air before collapsing back into Stan's lap in a fit of giggles. Dipper rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he settled back against Stan's other side. Ford stayed perched on the arm of the chair, smiling fondly, but eyebrows still drawn together.

"What's the matter, Sixer?" Stan frowned as Ford grimaced at the nickname. "What?"

Ford waved off Stan's concern. "It's nothing. It's..." Ford sighed. "I'm sorry. It's not nothing. I just don't want to..." He pursed his lips.

"Don't leave us hanging." There was a shake in Stan's voice, and Mabel shifted closer to her Grunkle.

"I'm glad this has been helpful to you," Ford muttered. "But...you don't remember everything. Not really."

"Whaddya mean?" Stan asked. "I remember you, the kids, Soos. The freeloading jerk who steals my sandwiches." Stan glared at Waddles who simply oinked and started trying to eat his shoelace. Whatever. Free pass for jump starting his memories. He better not get used to it.

Dipper sat up. "Yeah, what do you mean, Great Uncle Ford?"

Ford frowned. "I just... Hm." He seemed to be weighing something in his mind before turning to Stan with some resolve.

"Stanley," he began slowly. "I hope you appreciate what I'm about to do for you."

"That's not terrifyingly ominous," Stan muttered, glancing around at the available exits.

"Do you remember my - " Ford cleared his throat. "My first kiss?"

Stan froze. "What?"

"My first kiss, do you remember it?"

"I was there?"

"Yes. Unfortunately a lot of people were."

Mabel squealed beside Stan. "Ooo! Romance memories! How old were you? Was it high school? Was it a high school romance? Was it star-crossed love between the nerd and the cheerleader?"

"Mabel, I think Grunkle Stan is supposed to figure that stuff out."

Mabel sat up and stared at Stan expectantly. "Come on Grunkle Stan! I need details!"

Stan shook his head, nose wrinkling like he'd smelled something rotting. "How should I know? Who asks their brother that sort of thing?"

"Precisely." Ford spoke with the same air of professionalism he adopted when explaining his theories, despite the alarming shade of red his face was becoming. "So far it seems that your memories are returning based on external stimuli, whether that be Mabel's scrapbook or our own prompting."

"So, wait, you're saying I won't get all my memories back?"

"No! No that's not what I'm saying," Ford held up his hands. "What I'm saying is we can't expect them all to come back at once. And at the risk of turning the Shack into the set of the Johnny Carson show, we'll keep asking you questions."

Stan frowned. "What if I don't wanna remember my brother smooching some babe?"

Ford turned redder. "You do."

"I do? Geez, I was a perv."

"In the meantime," Ford pressed. "It's important to take note of any stimulus you experience that makes you remember something. Even if it doesn't paint the whole picture for you, we can fill in the blanks. Or prompt you to remember more details."

Dipper grinned. "And then we get to learn more about the secrets you've been hiding, old man."

Stan lifted his hand to give Dipper a well-earned noogie, but paused before he could make contact. "Old man...did you...did you tell me to shut up one time and then punched me?"

Dipper balked. "What? No I - "

"YEAH no WAY that'd be CRAZY!" Mabel interjected a bit too loudly. "Anyway let's get back to that kissing story, huh?"

"Actually Mabel, I don't know if I want to hear about Great Uncle Ford kissing anybody either."

"Oh come on, Dipper. Are you jealous that The Author got someone to kiss him and you didn't?"

"What? No!"

"Some girls like nerds."

"Mabel I don't want to think about anybody in this room kissing anybody."

"You could learn from him Dipper! Figure out how to wield your nerdish charms. Soon you'll be like a kissing machine!"

"MABEL -"

The twins were silenced by a sudden gasp from Stan. His eyes were wide and unfocused, his jaw hanging open as if someone had knocked the wind out of him.

"Holy - " he choked out softly.

"Grunkle Stan?" Dipper sat up fully. "Are you okay?"

Stan didn't acknowledge him, eyes darting around minutely.

"Grunkle Stan?" Mabel asked softly. "Did you remember something?" Moisture had begun to gather in the corners of Stan's eyes, one of his hands covering his mouth as he began to shake.

"Great Uncle Ford?" Dipper turned to Ford, worry stitching his brows together. But Ford didn't look worried. If anything, he looked like he wanted to disappear through the floor. His face was an alarming shade of red, nearly identical to his sweater. Stan let out another choked sound.

"Are you..." Mabel trailed off. "Grunkle Stan are you laughing?" He was quaking now, his hand falling from his mouth to reveal a wide, open-mouthed smile. He began slapping the arm rest with his free hand, eyes squeezed shut and tears rolling down his cheeks. Dipper and Mabel shared a look. Sure, they'd seen Stan laugh before, but it was usually a loud guffawing thing. They'd never seen him like this. They shared a tentative smile. Either this was the hardest they'd seen him laugh, or he had really snapped.

Ford seemed to pick up on their worry. "He's fine," Ford offered. "He's just...remembering my first kiss." At Ford's words, Stan let out a loud cackle, burying his face in his hands.

Mabel cocked her head. "But what's so funny about -"

"You children must be exhausted," Ford blurted out, standing abruptly. "Come now, go wash up then head to bed!"

"Oh no you don't!" Stan shouted. He wiped tears from his eyes, still smiling. "You're not getting out of this one, pal!"

"Stanley, this conversation is hardly appropriate for children -"

"You brought it up!"

"And now I'm putting a stop to it."

Stan grabbed his head. "Ooooo ow," he gave an exaggerated groan. "My poor head. The mean man won't let me share my memories so they're all going away!"

"Stanley, please don't joke about that."

"I'm fading away - "

"Stanley."

Stan crossed his arms. "You know, you really know how to take the fun out of amnesia."

"Yeah! Come on Grunkle Ford," Mabel pouted. "You can't just leave us hanging!"

"Yeah!" Dipper joined in. "If it's a funny story I want to hear it."

Ford spluttered, pulling at the sleeves of his sweater and looking around for an exit.

"Come on, Sixer," Stan chimed in. His eyes had gone soft around the edges. "I think the kids deserve a funny story."

After today went unspoken. Ford met Stanley's gaze, already feeling his resolve melting before he even turned to his grand-niece and nephew's inquisitive smiles.

"Alright," Ford conceded. "But to maintain the integrity of the exercise, Stanley will be the one to tell it. Whatever he doesn't remember, I can fill in."

Stan rubbed his hands together. "Oh boy, this'll be good."

"I regret this already."

"It's alright Great Uncle Ford," Dipper patted his shoulder. "We have a whole summer's worth of stuff we get to make fun of Grunkle Stan for. This just gives us stuff to use against you now. Levels the playing field."

Ford frowned. "Is that meant to be comforting?"

Dipper shrugged.

"Alright you two, enough yapping." Stan grinned, leaning forward in his seat and spreading his hands out in front of him. It was the same way he started his campfire tales. Mabel and Dipper met each other's eyes and smiled.

"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl named Kiss-Bot..."

[woof-squiggles]

nitten adoption day!

(psst, you can fill out an adoption form here)