#Pinescone Secret Santa

[frogurts]

Yooo REALLY late pinescone secret santa for @endoftheworldpaul !! The prompt was baking, I really hope this is okay! :)!!

The secret santa was hosted by @pinesconesecret2k17 !

[nour386]

Meeting the not Heroic Family

My submission for @pinesconessecrets as the santa of @mothmanfactkin, His prompts included super hero au and awkward dinner. So I combined them together into one massive fic. I hope you enjoy this because I enjoyed writing this. (Also on Ao3!)

"Dipper, I'm not sure about this," Wirt tightened his grip on his boyfriend's hand.

"It'll be fine!" Dipper awkwardly bumped Wirt with his elbow. "They don't need to know that I'm dating the legendary 'Spirit of the Plants'."

"Dipper this is serious." Wirt said. "If your Uncle is half as smart as you say he is, he should be able to figure out my identity in an instant."

"Don't worry about that, we have your cover story remember?" Dipper grinned, "a humble library part timer fresh out of college, looking for work. It'd cover most of our bases."

Wirt didn't look convinced. He bit his lip and looked away. His mind raced with all the ways this evening could go wrong. A villain somehow reconsigning him, and attacking them through the window. A giant monster bursting through the ceiling, crushing everyone and splattering the walls with their blood. Or worst of all, his boyfriend's uncles deciding that he was a bad influence. Cutting his time with Dipper short.

"Hey, look at me." Dipper pinched Wirt's cheek making the lanky man wince.

"What was that for?" Wirt rubbed his cheek.

"You were doing that thing where you panic and over think everything and worry that the end of the world will come about because you dropped a spoon." Dipper rolled his hand as he spoke.

"There was no apocalypse this time." Wirt said in a small voice.

"That's not the point Pilgrim." Dipper sighed. He placed both his hands on Wirt’s shoulders. "I know you're worried, and in truth, I am a little as well; but nothing helpful is going to come from sitting here and stewing in our sweat. Let's go take this thing down together."

Wirt took a deep breath, and let himself be held by Dipper. The weight of his hands on his shoulders helped ground the young man. He looked into his boyfriend’s eyes and gave a small smile. 

“I think. I'll be fine.” Wirt said slowly.

“I’ll be with you every step of the way.” Dipper smiled.

The pair made their way down the long walk up to the mystery shack. Normally Dipper would have insisted on flying the pair over, but decided that letting Wirt get excited over the natural beauty of Gravity Falls might help him calm down enough to face his uncles. That judgement worked out swimmingly in his favour as Wirt awkwardly asked to stop every few minutes to observe some flower or shrub that he didn’t quite recognise. 

“I know you said the town was bustling with the unknown, I didn’t think that would include plants.” Wirt carefully touched the leaf of a shrub. 

“Is a small bush that impressive?” Dipper squated next to Wirt to observe the plant. The stem looked like it was covered in red polka dots. 

“Look! This shrub adapted its stem to look like it's covered in red ants to avoid being eaten!” Wirt said in an excited voice. He gave the leaf at the tip of the stem a small poke and gave a small twitter of delight as the stem curled up perfectly to make the polka dots look even larger. 

“Huh, I never noticed that.” Dipper taped his chin.

“Probably because you spent the better part of your time running for your life.” Wirt tapped a nearby tree. A sturdy branch grew out, just high enough along the trunk to help him stand up without groaning. “Thank you.” He whispered to the tree.

“You know, for a superhero you sure do use your powers haphazardly.” Dipper teased. He stood up, and led the way to the shack.

“You’re just jealous that your yearbook photo this year was captioned ‘plant killer’.” Wirt smirked,   following Dipper along the path.

“I told all of our friends to not get me house plants as gifts. But they never listen.” Dipper threw up his hands in exasperation. “I can hardly take care of myself. You think I can take care of a plant?”

“Thank your lucky stars that I didn’t decide to incarcerate you for crimes against greenery.” Wirt said.

“That’s not a thing and you know it Mr.’Hero’.” Dipper punched Wirt’s arm.

“Well it might be!” Wirt shot back. “And now the charge has changed to battery.”

“Oh no. how could you have stopped my dastardly crimes.” Dipper rolled his eyes.

“Who’s talking about crime?” came a gruff voice.

The pair looked ahead to find an older looking man. Greying hair that lay flat on his head, a red nose and square jaw. He wore a serious expression, his face behind his square glasses was twisted into a serious scowl as he looked at the two young men. 

“I-uh no-one Sir.” Wirt squeaked. 

Dipper on the other hand rolled his eyes. “Why? You want a cut of the goods?” “You’re damn right.” The old man smirked. 

“I wha-” Wirt looked between them.

“Are you sure you’d want to be associated with horrible criminals like us?” Dipper asked. “Wouldn’t want the press to find out and cause another scandal.”

“Those paparazzi cronies will swarm after anything. It’ll blow over in less than a day.” The old man chuckled.

“What?” Wirt tilted his head.

Dipper grinned. “Wirt, this is my Great uncle Stan, retired hero and ever active conman.” 

“Hero?” Wirt stared at the man. His mind raced to put a mask to the face.

“Autographs cost 50 and pictures with me are 100.” Stan gave a showman’s grin. “Keep in mind that those prices are mutually exclusive.”

“And if you want him in costume you’d be footing the tailor’s bill.” Dipper elbowed Wirt.

“Wait, who were you?” Wirt asked.

“Who was I? Who was I?” Stan looked as though he had the wind knocked out of him. “What kind of cave dweller did you bring to my house?”

Dipper rolled his eyes at Stan’s theatrics. He was well used to his uncle’s inflated ego about his hero career. Wirt on the other hand found difficulty picking up on Stan’s very subtle hints at playing a bit. He felt his stomach sink to his feet as the man’s voice grew in volume, his life flashing before his eyes as he tried to figure out which hero this angry looking man could have been. 

“Grunkle Stan, tone it down, you’re going to give him a heart attack.” Came a sweet as sugar voice from inside the shack. A young lady with her hair done in a long braid opened the mesh door and punched Stan in the arm. Aside from rosy cheeks and the lack of a beard, her face was identical to Dipper’s. It didn’t take long for Wirt to recognise his boyfriend’s twin sister, Mabel. 

She turned to Wirt and gave a warming smile. “Sorry about this old grump. He thinks his comedy routine should double as a horror show.” 

“It’s only horror if they’re too sensitive.” Stan rubbed his arm. 

“You promised Dipper you’d play nice while Wirt was visiting.” she crossed her arms.

“I also promised your uncle Shermie that I wouldn’t let you do any hero work while staying over. And look how that turned out.” Stan rolled his eyes.

“Stopping someone from stealing a car isn’t hero work.” Mabel shot back. 

“Sorry about Stan,” Dipper muttered under his breath. “He’s just jealous that his hero career was cut.” 

“Jealous?” Wirt stared at Dipper. “You said you didn’t tell them anything”

“He’s jealous of your youthfulness” Dipper squeezed Wirt’s shoulder. He leaned in close to whisper into his ear. “I haven’t told them a thing, I promise.”

“So he’s not mad?” Wirt clarified. 

“Nope, just a really bad comedian.” Dipper smiled.

Wirt closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He held onto Dipper’s hand to ground himself. It took a couple of moments but he felt his heart rate slow down. 

“Hey, is the kid okay?” Stan called from the porch. Wirt could hear the audible smack of Mabel’s fist against Stan’s meaty arms, followed by a hushed. “Ouch!”

“Ready to go in?” Dipper asked patiently, ignoring his relatives and their antics.

“I think so yes.” Wirt opened his eyes and gave a weak grin. 

***

The pair had wanted to spend the wait for dinner in the living room, enjoying the terrible public access television that Gravity Falls had to offer. However, Stan had other plans. Apparently Dipper’s second Grunkle, Ford as Stan called him, had failed to arrive in time to help like he had agreed. And now the couple were forced into the kitchen to help with dinner preparations. 

“Honestly you don’t need to help too much.” Dipper insisted as he kept an eye on the bubbling stew.

“I don’t mind. It’s nice to see the shack you talk so much about.” Wirt smiled. He carefully peeled an onion before dicing it. Dipper could have sworn the onion grew plumper when he handed it to Wirt.

“So he talks about this place huh?” Stan looked over his shoulder and away from his chopping board. “Better be talking about how great it was.”

“Oh but of course.” Dipper rolled his eyes. “The 5 star accommodations, and food to match? How could I complain?”

“Didn’t you say that the walls were riddled with splinters?” Wirt asked.

“They add character!” Stan insisted. He banged his fist on to the chopping board, launching sliced up carrots into Dipper’s bubbling pot.

“And a surprising amount of fiber.” Dipper said. He placed a lid on the pot. 

“What?” Wirt looked at Dipper. 

“The kid chews just about anything. I’m surprised his power wasn’t something like eating anything.” Stan said, he took the onion slices from Wirt and poured them into a pan with some oil.

“I don’t think that’d be very fitting.” Wirt said. 

“Oh? And why’s that?” Stan snapped his fingers, summoning a small flame at the tip of his finger, which he then used to ignite the stove. He raised an eyebrow as he stared at Wirt. Challenging him to back up his claim.

Wirt could feel his stomach twisting under the gaze of the older man, but a gentle hand on his shoulder helped the practising hero ground himself. He took a deep breath and put on what felt like a confident grin. “Well, for one thing Dipper would need an appetite for such a power to be useful.”

There was a beat, Wirt held his breath, expecting some snide remark about how he didn’t know what he was talking about. Instead, Wirt watched as Stan slapped his knee in laughter. The old man’s wrinkled face lifted with glee as his hoarse laugh filled the shack. He accidentally knocked over the pan he had just put on the stove. 

Acting quickly, Wirt grew a strong vine from the flowers on the window sill, easily catching the pan.

“And here I thought you were all talk about him being a smart alec!” Stan grinned. He clapped a hand on Wirt’s back.

“Thank you?” Wirt looked to Dipper for help.

His boyfriend gave him a small smile and a thumbs up. “Told you he could hold his own.”

“He still looks scrawny as hell.” Stan pulled his pan out of the vine’s grasp. “Pretty good with his powers. You sure he ain’t some mask behind your back?”

“Grunkle Stan, Wirt would never lie to me like that.” Dipper frowned. He looked disgusted at the suggestion.

“Not many regular people are quick enough to catch something that fast. Especially with powers they don’t use regularly.” Stan said.

“I do use my power often.” Wirt said honestly.

“And what does a librarian need chloromancy for?” Stan asked.

“It helps me put away books faster.” Wirt said. “Not to mention I had a very excitable younger brother. If I wasn’t keeping an eye on him, there was no telling how much trouble he’d get in.”

Dipper held his breath as he watched his Uncle’s reaction. The old man eyed Wirt up and down, before shrugging and moving back to his cooking. “Jeez you really are dating a goody two shoes, aren’t you?” 

“You know me. Can’t help but stick to the rules.” Dipper said with an awkward chuckle.

“Only when it suits you.” Stan remarked. “Now toast the bread, I didn't bring you in here to play 20 questions.”

***

‘Ford’ was still nowhere to be seen, but the family had decided to start dinner without him. 

“If he thinks I’m going to wait for him to eat then he’s got another thing coming.” Stan said. 

With the use of his plant powers, Wirt was able to set the table rather quickly. He wondered why Mabel hadn’t been asked to help, but when he saw several burn marks hidden under the table cloth, he realised the risk the ever glitter throwing Mabel could be to the kitchen. It wasn’t long before the table had been set and all food was served. The three Pines and Wirt sat together at the table, enjoying the delicious food. The sound of clinking plates filled the air.

All was peaceful until a loud crash came from the living room, followed by an angry shout.

“Stanley what did you do to my mirror!”

Stan didn't get up from his seat, in fact he  acted as though he didn’t hear what had just transpired. Wirt remembered seeing the old man reach for his ears before they began eating. ‘Perhaps he turned off his hearing aids?’.

Dipper gave Wirt a smile. “We’re in the kitchen Grunkle Ford!”

Wirt turned to the doorway just in time to see a man with a similar face to Stan’s but with a much deeper cleft in his chin and much poofier hair. He wore a trench coat and red sweater over black dress pants. His clothes were scuffed and were burnt in multiple places. To the untrained eye it would have looked like the man had run wildly through the woods from some kind of monster. However Wirt was familiar with markings like those that were all over Ford’s clothing. They were from stray bullets that had nicked his clothing, narrowly avoiding him. 

“Stanley, what was the big idea with putting my mirror behind the couch!” Ford marched right up to his twin, his face red with rage.

Stan lazily looked up at Ford, his mouth full of mashed potatoes. He raised a finger and swallowed his food. “I can’t hear anything you're saying Sixer.” Stan pointed to the kitchen counter, where his hearing aids sat, keeping him deaf to the world around him.

“You knucklehead! I almost got crushed!” Ford reached to punch Stan, but he was stopped by Dipper. The young man had jumped out of his seat and grabbed a hold of Ford’s arm. Dipper also summoned a vine from the window sill to keep his uncle restrained.

“Grunkle Ford, I’m really happy you’re back in one piece. I was hoping to introduce you to my boyfriend, Wirt.” Dipper said. He nonchalantly gestured to Wirt.

“Ah, yes. I had forgotten we had guests.” Ford’s cheeks turned red as he collected himself. “I apologise for my outburst. I’m usually much more composed. However, someone’s pettiness has affected that.”

“Still deaf as a post.” Stan pointed to his large ears. His mouth full of half eaten stew.

Ford rolled his eyes and walked over to Wirt. The old man wiped his hand on his dark pants before offering a six-fingered hand shake. Wirt politely returned the gesture with a firm hand. But as the pair shook hands, a painful realisation dawned upon them both. 

“You…” They both breathed. Their eyes locked into one another. 

Before Wirt could say anything, Stanford ran out of the room, and out of sight. 

Stan, Dipper and Mabel stared at Wirt, all thinking the same question. Wirt could feel their eyes boring into his skull, so he stood up, and excused himself. The young man made his way to the bathroom, closing the door behind himself. He splashed his face with some cold water and breathed deeply. He looked at the mirror above the sink, screamed, and tripped back into the bathtub.

“Calm down!” Dipper whispered. He stepped out of the mirror.

“How did you-”

“I’ve been copying Grunkle Ford’s power for ages.” Dipper said. “Now, would you mind explaining what that was just now?”

“So, remember how I thought I never met your uncles and was worried about a bad first impression?” Wirt asked. His tone sounded jovial despite his rattled nerves. “Well I don't need to worry about that anymore.”

“When did you meet Grunkle Ford?” Dipper asked. He sat on the side of the bathtub.

“I was doing a nightly patrol of our campus. The security guards had asked for some help from the local hero guild. Someone was breaking in and taking the latest data found by the scientific teams. I was already on campus so the hero guild put me to the job.” Wirt said. He kept in his awkwardly sat position in the tub as he spoke. The shower curtain tangled with his long limbs. 

“So as I was walking around, I heard the guards calling for help, turned the corner and saw the tail coat of a man run down the hallway. ‘The light of the moon shone through the windows, guiding me through the dark to his eventual capture’. Is what I thought when I saw him turn down a dead end. But instead there was no one. There was the one way glass of the nearby lab door; but it was securely locked. The guards checked it anyway and found no one.”

“Right.” Dipper nodded along, tapping his chin.

“I walked along the floor, looking for any signs of the intruder; but alas he had slipped my grasp. The only person I found was one of the professors leaving after a late night at work. I had thought he was the intruder at first, since the first thing I saw were the tails of his coat, but it was a lab coat.” Wirt continued.

“But where does Ford fit into this?” Dipper asked.

“That professor dropped a roll of paper he was carrying. I thought it was some of his research, but when I reached down to pick it up. I noticed he had six fingers, which was not mentioned in the staff listings. And when I looked at his ID, it was a crudely faked card.” Wirt said. 

“Ooooh.” Dipper sucked in a breath. “And he realised you were the hero from that night?”

“There’s no way he didn’t.” Wirt said.

“Okay, things are messy, but, there’s nothing to worry about.” Dipper clapped his hands. “He knows that you know, but we don’t know he knows. So we can use this to our advantage.” 

“If he knows that we know, then he won’t try to deal with me to make sure I don’t blab?” wirt asked.

“But he can’t be sure that you know.” Dipper said. “As far as your story goes, you’re only a librarian. Just keep your cool and things should smooth over.”

“Considering how annoyed your Uncle Stan is, I doubt he’d want to cause too much more trouble.” Wirt said.

“Exactly.” Dipper smiled. “Now come on, dinner’s getting cold and trust me when I say you don’t want to fight Mabel for seconds.”

 Wirt watched as Dipper stood up offering his hand. The young man took a deep breath before accepting his boyfriend’s hand.

“That sounds lovely.” he agreed.

[colorfullyminded]

@pinesconesecret2k17 Title: Weihnukka Rating: Teen Characters: Dipper Pines, Wirt (Over the Garden Wall) Summary: The snow fell softly over their Massachusetts apartment. The news warned folks to stay indoors, as a cold front would be moving in during the evening, until early the next morning. Thankfully, the young couple had no reason to leave the comfort of their home. They had plans for the night, and no blizzard was going to stop them.

If anything, the heavy snowfall was just more incentive for a quiet, romantic night spent celebrating.

---

Happy Holiday @cinnamonbees​! I’m your Secret Santa!

You requested Road trips, Theme parks, cliche holiday cuddles/snow days, or cooking/baking. I went with a combination of Cliche Holiday Cuddles, and Cooking/Baking-- just like this story is a combination of two things. 

I hope you like it. Please let me know what you think. I hope you had a wonderful holidays, and that this year is a lot less stressful than the last.

[pinesconessecrets]

Pinescone 2020 Applications!

Thank you for the interest in the event this year. the mod team is looking forward to this event, especially after a year as big as 2020. 

So, without further delay, if you’re interested in participating then please fill out this application form. 

[pancake-man]

i’m already cursed

This is my Pinescone Secret Santa for Pamela @ladynightmare12 ! She gave me the prompt Fairytale and I instantly knew what to do. I’ve been wanting to write something for this song for so long! Thanks so much, I hope you enjoy it!

Here it is on Ao3!

Story below the readmore!

Lyrics and Inspiration: Fairytale by Alexander Rybak

Years ago, when I was younger,

I kinda liked a girl I knew.

She was mine, and we were sweethearts.

That was then, but then it's true.

Two children, hair wild around their heads like messy halos, dirt clinging to the edges of their clothes and mud stuck between their toes. Smiles on their faces growing as wide as their eyes at each new thing. A stick bug looking for food. A deer stepping lightly through a forest. The call of a bird, shrill and loud above the gentle sounds of the forest.

Dipper’s cap is long forgotten. He doesn’t need to hide, not out here. His birthmark is clearly visible, freckles in an odd pattern, connected by a shaky line of pen. Wirt says he looks cool.

And Wirt, forever cold, even with the warm sun beating down on their backs, closed up in his cape. The ends are frayed and covered in burs, but the blue stands out brilliantly against all the green. Dipper doesn’t ask. It’s not important.

It’s a summer of laughter and running wildly through the woods, shouting Catch me, catch me! And hiding in thickets. Neither of them wants to leave.

But growing up is impossible to avoid, and both have their responsibilities. Dipper packs up his gap-toothed grin and Wirt abandons his dissonant laughter. The wind is ready for winter, and they say see you later!  instead of goodbye. 

I'm in love with a fairytale

Even though it hurts.

'Cause I don't care if I lose my mind.

I'm already cursed.

Sometimes Wirt is there. Sometimes he isn’t. Dipper is thirteen, his voice hoarse from changing hormones and from screaming into the silence hoping for some kind of response. He thinks he sees blue through the leaves, but it’s the sky, and he wants to give up.

A childhood of silly games and happy giggles is a fading memory. Dipper wonders if he dreamed it. 

The awkward smile seems like a curse, haunting him at the back of his mind when he wonders what he did wrong.

Dipper has never been one for sitting around doing nothing, so instead he does something. He picks himself up and starts writing. He documents the way the temperature seems to drop around certain parts of the wood. He illustrates in rapidly-improving style the odd twists of the trees. He finds the money for a library computer pass and does whatever research he can. Maybe he doesn’t have time for anything else. He knows it’s worth it.

Every day we started fighting,

Every night we fell in love.

No one else could make me sadder,

But no one else could lift me high above.

Dipper is fifteen. Two years of research have given him a book of matches and bags beneath his eyes. The forest seems colder than he remembers when he steps into it for the first time this summer. Nine months of seasons and he still knows where each root and rock is, carefully making his way to the center even when he can’t see his feet.

The match casts shadows over the trees around him, turning the knotted wood into pained, twisted bodies, calling out for his help. Dipper isn’t there for them.

He steps closer to Wirt’s favorite tree, a towering mess of tangled limbs and leaves. The blaze of the match is nothing compared to the blaze of his eyes. 

“Please,” comes the voice from behind him. Dipper spins around, his match extinguishing. In the shadows he can only make out the vague shape of a cloak. “Don’t do this,” the voice whispers.

“Why not?” Dipper asks, arms crossed because even if he can’t see Wirt, he knows Wirt can see him, and it’s important that Wirt know how pissed he is. 

There’s a pause. “You know what I am, then?”

“I have an idea,” Dipper says, and it’s so hard to keep malice in his tone when Wirt sounds like that. 

Wirt sighs and his shadow melts a bit. “I’m sorry, I couldn't-”

“Sorry?” Dipper interrupts. He actually wasn’t expecting an apology. “You abandoned me. You lied to me!”

“Lied? I never-”

“‘See you later’, that’s what you said. It’s later, Wirt! And I can’t even see you!” Wirt’s outline shrinks a bit. “I want more than ‘I’m sorry’, now. I want an explanation.”

The silence of the forest becomes deafening for a long moment. Dipper has to cover his ears, and then Wirt is speaking again. “Come again tomorrow, in the day. I’ll… explain what I can.”

“No,” Dipper pulls his hands from his ears. “Everything.”

“...Right. Everything.”

I don't know what I was doing

When suddenly we fell apart.

Nowadays I cannot find her,

But when I do, we'll get a brand new start.

Wirt isn’t there the next day. Or the next. Dipper’s research stagnates, and then one of his journals is lost when a leak in the ceiling soaks the pages beyond legibility. He’s seventeen and walking through the forest when he should be somewhere, anywhere else. He’s given up on seeing Wirt, but something about the air still calms him the way Wirt’s smile always did.

Dipper is eighteen, nineteen, twenty. Every summer he still goes back to the forest. He talks out loud to the rabbits, the raccoons, the birds. He tells them about his life, how he’s doing, asks if they could please let Wirt know he’s okay. Dipper is studying mythology now. He wants to be a researcher. The things he found on his hunt for Wirt lit something within him, and he regrew his passion into something more… productive. Dipper sits on a log, his head in his hands.

“Please, Wirt, I don’t…” Maybe he’s finally going crazy, talking to open air like this. “I’m sorry. I didn’t understand, but I want to. I miss you. Wirt..” 

Dipper imagines the hand on his shoulder, and dreams the cold comfort he gets from it.

I'm in love with a fairytale

Even though it hurts.

'Cause I don't care if I lose my mind.

I'm already cursed.

The forest is no place for a home, not for him. Not for someone whose clothes and hair and mannerisms are all manufactured, manmade, fake. But Dipper stays close, his useless degree at least getting him a job as a forester. He clears fallen trees, checks on the wildlife, chases away hunters(not that the forest needed any help with the last one) and more than anything, he talks to Wirt.

Occasionally Dipper needs extra cash, and he’ll venture into town for odd jobs. The people trust him with their work and nothing else. The crazy man who talks to the trees he lives with. Dipper is fine with that reputation. 

And with time, he’s happy. The forest is calming and protective of him. People are difficult and scary. More and more of his home leaves the grid, until he’s surviving on rainwater and old logs for firewood. He knows Wirt keeps him safe. Wirt is the one who leads him home when the skies darken, or to bushes full of berries when he’s hungry. Maybe he can’t see Wirt, but he’s there, in the trees and in Dipper’s heart.

She's a fairytale, yeah.

Even though it hurts.

'Cause I don't care if I lose my mind.

I'm already cursed.

Dipper hardly notices as he becomes more and more a part of the forest. Leaves in his bed in the morning likely blew through the cracked ceiling, or twigs caught in his hair are from midnight walks through the wood. 

His face sags with content wrinkles and his hands grow knobby. Checking on the trees becomes painful as his joints creak and scream. He fashions a cane from a branch left on his doorstep. Pamphlets advertising retirement are promptly burned. Dipper is old, and in love, and happy.

Soon it isn’t skinned rabbits or firewood on his doorstep. It’s Wirt, his age indeterminate. He’s older than Dipper remembers, though he has the body of a young twenty-something. The only tell of his true age are the bags hanging heavy beneath his eyes.

“You came back,” Dipper says.

“I said I would,” Wirt replies.

“It’s time then?”

Wirt nods. “Is there anything you’d like to say goodbye to?”

Dipper looks about at his home, a rundown cabin on the brink of collapse, nestled on the edge of the forest he loves so much. “No.”

Wirt hums, sways awkwardly. “Are you ready?”

Dipper smiles, and seeing this Wirt relaxes. He smiles back.

Two men, boys, friends, lovers, soulmates meet in an embrace as warm as the sun and strong as the trees. Years of waiting, loving, proving themselves worthy. 

The townsfolk tell stories of the crazy old man who protected the forest. He talked to the trees, they say, and one day he disappeared. His body was never found. The people know the rules: Never enter the forest alone. Never hurt a living being within the forest. Never disrespect the trees. 

[howtotrainyournana]

Pinescone Secret Santa

Hey there @oakwoodouroboros-fics-and-art! I’m your secret Santa! Sorry it’s a bit late, I hope you enjoy it! I wrote a fic for you. Also tagging the blog that set this all up, @pinesconessecrets. This was a blast to write! - Nana Graye

. . .

Prompt(s): Fluffy, Deciduous, Tempest, Allow

Pairing: Wirt (Over the Garden Wall) and Dipper Pines (Gravity Falls)

Rating: General Audiences

Summary: A walk in the woods takes a turn for the heartwarming when a fall storm rolls in. Wirt and Dipper have a heart-to-heart under a tree during a rainstorm.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

College was a challenge that Dipper loved, but it was always nice to get away from it all and take a walk in the woods. It was even better when Wirt could get away with him.

They were out in one of the forests at the edge of town, one that led up into the mountains with hiking trails crisscrossing it. It was a beautiful fall day – the first full day of fall break – all bright sunshine and wind-driven clouds and the forest on fire with gold and red and orange. They knew it was a risk going out, that the clouds painted dark with rain could just as easily knit together and turn into a sudden squall, but the call of the dappled sunshine and the woods was too much for either of them.

So here they were, picking their way across meadows and trails, just the two of them. The trail they were following was well-worn by hikers and animals, a broad and even road through the trees. Here, where they were, the path went straight for a long while, gently up an incline before curving around a bend. Just before the bend, a few hundred yards away, sat a glorious cedar tree, stark and green against the autumn foliage.

“Hey Wirt,” Dipper said, pointing up ahead on the path, “race you to that tree.”

“Hm? What was that Dipper?” Wirt turned from where he had been looking up at the sky with a frown. Dipper’s hand was still pointed down the path at the tree in challenge. Dipper grinned wider and waggled his eyebrows, Wirt swore, and the two took off towards the tree full-tilt, Dipper with a head start.

In the mad scramble for the tree they kicked up gold leaves, playfully shouting and shoving at each other. A rabbit leapt out of their way and a squirrel dashed up into a tree chattering angrily. Dipper and Wirt were too caught up in their race and each other to notice.

Wirt reached the tree first, slapping a hand triumphantly on the soft bark. “Ha! Even with your – ha - cheating you still can’t – huff - beat me!”

Dipper was bent double, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. “Well – hah – I guess those – hah – long stork legs are good for – huff - something after all.”

Wirt sputtered, and Dipper laughed breathlessly and sat himself down against the tree with a groan. After a few moments of looking indignant, Wirt joined him, long stork legs stretched out alongside Dipper’s short ones. They sat quietly together, catching their breath, Dipper’s unruly curls tucked onto Wirt’s shoulder and Wirt’s cheek pressed gently to the top of Dipper’s head.

The forest was softly peaceful. Birds sang in short sweet bursts and the sunlight faded in and out, the breeze picking up and dying off fitfully. All around them the golds and reds and oranges of the leafed trees swirled in the breeze.

Plip. Plip. Plip-plop plip-plop plip-plip-plip.

The rain they had hoped would stay away had caught them. Wirt sighed, wrapping an arm around Dipper and pulling him closer. The rain fell harder. Wind whipped through the forest around them, sending branches waving up and down and ripping leaves off to swirl in bright wild whorls in the sky. The cedar kept them dry, the tempest raging around the small safe spot they occupied. When the storm rose in pitch, Wirt sighed.

“You know, we could have gone to the music store or to a café or something less. Risky.” Wirt waggled a long arm in the vague direction of the sky.

It was the sort of gesture that displayed how gangly and uncontrolled Wirt still sometimes was after his sudden growth spurt, limbs an uncoordinated natural disaster that combined with his natural tendencies for the dramatic in new and comical ways. Dipper loved him very fiercely.

Dipper sighed as well and tucked himself closer into Wirt’s side with a soft smile. “Yeah, but would either of us have really been happy spending a day indoors when we could be here, like this?” He let out a chuckle and snuck his hands inside of Wirt’s jacket.

Wirt hummed in agreement. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“I usually am.”

“Except when you’re wrong.”

“Yeah, that’s how it works.”

“Shut up, you know what I meant.”

“Hey, I’m just replying to what you said, if you really didn’t want me to banter back you shouldn’tve–“ Dipper was cut off by Wirt leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. Dipper blushed and Wirt pulled back with a smirk. Dipper loved him very fiercely indeed.

“Can’t make witty remarks if you’re too flustered to talk. My win again, Pines.”

Dipper rolled his eyes and pulled Wirt in for another kiss.

. . .

Fifteen minutes and a few kisses later, the storm died down and the sun broke out again in full vengeance.

Dipper stood, brushing himself off and offering a hand down to Wirt.

“Wanna head back down before we get caught up in another rainstorm? I don’t know about you, but I don’t enjoy walking around in wet socks, it is literally the worst.”

Wirt took Dipper’s hand, fingers curling through fingers and squeezing. They walked back down the path like that, hands entwined, stepping carefully over rocks and around patches of mud and puddles shining brilliant blue. They chatted as they went, idle conversation. Dipper slipped going over a small stream and Wirt scooped him backwards into his arms, the two of them pressed close and laughing together.

Dipper let go of Wirt’s hand and of Wirt to better climb over the stream, and Wirt got the chance to just look at him.

Dipper’s back was turned, his familiar brown curls tossed by the wind. He needs a haircut soon, Wirt thought, I’ll have to call the shop and set up an appointment for him, he’ll just keep putting it off otherwise.

The trees along the path ahead of them were all bright gold and the sun caught the leaves and turned them luminous. They set Dipper aglow. It made Dipper, in his grungy red hoodie and faded jeans and mud-slicked brown boots, look ethereal and timeless; a snapshot of youthful energy and adventurous enthusiasm framed by the wild radiance of an autumn afternoon.

He looks like something straight out of a dream, Wirt thought, like if I stopped looking at him he might disappear forever.

A sharp pang lanced through his chest at that thought and Wirt froze, one foot poised to step over the stream and join Dipper and the other still in the mud. Dipper was still there on the other side, bathed in light and tossed by the wind and back turned, oblivious to Wirt’s sudden and all-consuming turmoil. Or was he? Was Dipper really there, perfect as he was, waiting for Wirt to catch up? Wirt felt his breath rattle in his chest with the doubt, cold like winter, like snow, like a song in the trees-

Then Dipper turned, and smiled with his teeth, and stuck out a hand for Wirt, the expectation and affection plain in his eyes.

And a different pang lanced through Wirt’s chest, one that unstuck his limbs and curled his lips into a smile and made the hand that reached out to take Dipper’s shake slightly. Wirt felt a warmth like summer seep through his bones as their hands met. Dipper’s hand was solid and warm and slightly sweaty in Wirt’s hand. There was dirt on it and this close to him Wirt could smell the pine-scented soap Dipper used and the earthy smell of sweat and mud and denim.

In a flash Dipper pulled him over the stream and onto drier ground and then frowned up at Wirt, that affection still clear in his eyes and touched with concern.

“Are you okay, Wirt?” Dipper asked. Wirt just looked down at him, blinking slowly, thinking.

“Uh, Wirt? Seriously, are you okay?” Dipper asked again, now visibly worried. “You’re okay, I’ve got you, you’re here with me and I’m not going anywhere. Just talk to me.” Dipper took both of Wirt’s hands in his and squeezed them.

He knows me so well, Wirt thought, followed by and I love him so much.

Wirt took a deep breath and made a decision.

“Dipper?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you allow me to stay with you? Forever?”

It was Dipper’s turn to blink slowly up at Wirt. He could see the wheels turning in Dipper’s head, the calculations, the million thoughts trying to decipher what Wirt had said and what he’d meant. Wirt could also see the exact moment it registered for Dipper, watched his face do a speedrun through confusion, realization, doubt, resolution, and then, blessedly, turn to absolute and complete joy.

They almost toppled back into the stream when Dipper leapt up into Wirt’s arms, Dipper’s not-so-noodlelike arms wrapped tightly around Wirt’s neck and Wirt’s own very noodlelike arms wrapped around Dipper’s waist. They were laughing again, bright ecstatic peals of laughter from Dipper and disbelieving but relieved laughter from Wirt, as they stumbled in a happy circle.

“Yes, yes, yes, oh my god yes! A billion times yes, Wirt!” Dipper said, pulling back to look Wirt in the face. There were tears leaking out of the corners of Wirt’s eyes. Dipper slid his hands up to cup Wirt’s face, carefully and deliberately making sure Wirt wouldn’t look away, and brushed the tears away with his thumbs.

“I love you,” Dipper said, “and I want to spend the rest of forever with you.”

Wirt felt that blaze of summer run through him again, as bright and as brilliant as the leaves around them. He smiled at Dipper, and Dipper smiled back, that fierce love blazing bright in his eyes.

“I love you,” Wirt said, and bent and kissed Dipper.

“I love you,” he said softer, and kissed him again.

“I love you,” Wirt said one last time, softer than before, and Dipper laughed as Wirt pressed their foreheads together and closed his eyes. “I’m going to tell you that every day for the rest of forever.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Dipper whispered back.

They stayed like that, warm and happy in the autumn sunlight, eyes closed and arm around each other, until the wind shifted again. Then they linked hands again, smiling wider than they had all day, and walked back down a bright fall trail.

Together.

[endoftheworldpaul]

Bright

This is my Pinescone Secret Santa fic, written for @pancake-man hope you enjoy! This follows their prompt soulmates. Always did want to write a soulmate fic!

Check it out on AO3!

Color reference sheet:

Blue- Trust, stability, calm

Pink- tenderness, caring, sympathy

Royal blue - stability, honesty

Beige - dependable, flexible

True love was tricky to understand, especially for a six-year-old. That didn’t stop Dipper Pines from asking every question about that popped into his head about the subject. Why is the world besides his family all gray? Why did Mabel illuminate a room with bright pinks and purples and oranges when all of his classmates remain a monochrome series of grays? Why did kittens glow orange and blue-gray and chocolate brown when the scary dog across the street that barked real loud every time he got close stayed a solid dark gray? ‘Why did’ and ‘how come’ poured from his lips faster than syrup on Mabel’s pancakes and Dipper could see that his parents were getting tired of deflecting his questions. 

Finally, they explained that everyone and anything you loved would light up with color for as long as you cared for them, that ancient magic encouraged a love for everything. And that some people would never see a single color in their lives because their hearts grew so cold and angry that no love could ever warm them. They explained that when people who loved each other touched, their skin would light up with a color representing the relationship wherever they touched, and that’s why when momma and dad held hands, they lit up with a soft blue hue. 

Dipper found out that Mabel loved everything. She rambled on about the colors of the sky, girls’ hair, and even spiders.

Dipper didn’t love spiders or the sky, but he did love lakes and rivers and trees and funny-looking fish. So he watched documentaries and science shows and learned and absorbed information and slowly, he began to see more and more colors.

When Dipper turned ten and invited his best friends Sam and Caroline to his birthday party at the new arcade, he first learned heartbreak. He knew he loved his friends because he could clearly see Caroline’s dark skin and the bright pink flowers in her hair and the way the blue raspberry lollipops she loved stained her tongue and Sam’s freckles and his blush when Caroline told a joke and the way his brown eyes sparkled when he planned on pranking someone. When Sam handed him the bright green birthday present he brought for Dipper, their hands brushed and nothing happened, no colors, no glowing. At first, he was sad but cheered himself up at the realization that it was likely just that Sam was slower to love people and since Sam and Dipper had only been friends for a few months, that he just was working to get there. 

Then, when Caroline grabbed his hand to drag him over to a game with flashing lights and loud music and silly ducks on it and their clasped hands also didn’t glow, Dipper was struck with the fear that something was wrong. He and Caroline had been friends for five years now. 

So, when he had the chance, he pretended to go to the bathroom. He followed Sam and Caroline around, weaving between people’s legs and trying to keep track of their conversation. 

“—such a nerd!” Caroline giggled.

“Yeah, and he never stops talking! It’s nice that his family lets him go to so many fun places because he drags us along.”

They continued to talk, the topic changing from Dipper to Mabel, calling her names. Right before they were blocked by a particularly tall man, he noticed their colors be replaced by deep grays.

Dipper ran to find Mabel. Mabel hugged him close and Dipper found comfort in the soft pink glow that illuminated their skin where Mabel’s arms wrapped around his arms and neck and how her fingers shined when she wiped away his tears. 

After that, Dipper found it harder to love people. Books and nature and games still had prominent colors, but only Mabel and his parents had color. Sometimes, Dipper would look in the mirror and smudges of gray would seep into his skin, hair, eyes. Times like that made him scared. When that happened, the only thing that brought him comfort was the soft rosy pink of Mabel’s hugs. 

Over time, Dipper made better friends, met new people, and occasionally developed crushes on pretty girls and nice boys. But very few people ever were brightened by colors. 

One said crush was Wirt Palmer, a dorky boy six months his senior. They had met at a sleep-away writing camp and immediately got on like fire on a house. Wirt was soft-spoken but passionate, clumsy yet gorgeous. Wirt was perfect, and Dipper would be damned if he hadn't tried everything to not fall in love with him. 

It would be cliche to say Dipper fell in love slowly, and it would be a blatant lie. Three hours after they first shook hands during their introduction to one another, color slammed into Wirt's form. Wirt had quoted Shakespeare, softly mumbling "'Tis the way to call hers exquisite, in question more…" under his breath, the following lines providing a comforting touch, their warmth soaking into Dipper's bones. And then, color. It was as simple as that, but also horribly convoluted and worrying, as Dipper hadn't felt love anew in a year. 

But, despite the panic creeping in, he was also comforted by how right it felt to love Wirt. Dipper was also just a teenage boy, and he struggled to differentiate the platonic and romantic affection he felt for his new companion. After all, love came in many forms, and identifying one after so suddenly being overwhelmed by its presence was a feat in and of itself. 

So, Dipper kept his feelings to himself, only letting Mabel know that he had made a new friend. As the week progressed and Wirt opened up more, Dipper came to the conclusion that no matter what he felt for this boy, he was certain that he would never feel whole again if not by his side. 

And stay he did, at least to the best of his ability. After all, Wirt lived in Massachusetts, the other side of the country from Dipper's home of Piedmont, California. They texted, nigh constantly, and during school breaks they would talk into the early morning hours, night coming to an end before their conversations. Dipper rarely actually saw Wirt, as opposed to just hearing him, seeing his words through a screen. That made it easy to ignore how clear Wirt's colors were, never wavering, never dimming. 

The few times he and Wirt were face to face—video chats or the occasional meetup—Dipper could only be amazed by how beautiful Wirt was. Fluffy brown hair and chocolate eyes, tan skin, a big angular nose, all made Dipper's insides warm pleasantly. And the beauty and determination of the colors comforted Dipper. He was reminded that despite being hurt and despite being taken advantage of, he was no less worthy of being surrounded by love than any other person. When he felt close to Wirt—despite the hundreds of miles separating them—he loved himself more. 

Sometimes, late at night, after Wirt finally succumbs to the siren call of sleep, Dipper would trace patterns onto his arms, royal blue bleeding through the gaps between his fingers, and feel closest to the old Dipper, the one who loved easily and truly, a part of him he had previously given up on finding again. 

Other times, gray would wobble across his body, only lasting mere seconds before returning to its bright hues, and a deep cold would seep into Dipper, down to the bone. On those days, Wirt would be quick to comfort, rambling on about plans for college or a book he had read or a song he was writing. The distractions helped, but Dipper wondered if it was more the words or the person they came from that brought him comfort. 

Dipper developed a habit of dedicating a large portion of his free time to conversing with Wirt, whether it be during school or during breaks in between study sessions or talking until midnight. And suddenly, as the end of junior year rolled past and suddenly the bubble of consistency was popped, making way for the stress and panic of searching for colleges. 

On more than one occasion, Mabel let Dipper know her opinions on his three-year-long college search, telling him that he has no reason to stress since he had had his favorites narrowed down to a reasonably sized list since the end of last year's winter break. She had known this because, for each day of Hanukkah, Dipper had gotten eight sweatshirts, each proudly advertising the mascot of one of those schools. Mabel had five of those same colleges on her list, she also had half of the colleges on the west coast on that very same list, so the overlap didn't surprise Dipper. 

His biggest confidant for his college prep fears was Wirt. They both discussed the pros and cons of each school, their interests overlapping enough that the most appealing colleges for one often intrigue the other as well.

And as the season for college applications neared, Dipper noticed Wirt often finding nitpicky reasons to dislike any school that Dipper wasn't applying to. It was almost as if Wirt couldn't bear the thought of consciously choosing to not be closer to Dipper. At first, Dipper brushed thoughts like that aside, but as Wirt steadfastly continued rebuffing schools he had previously fawned over, Dipper reconsidered his behavior. It was relieving to think that maybe, just maybe, Wirt would finally be within arms reach, for the first time since the summer before their sophomore year. 

Their last year of high school passed much the same as the previous two, worrying about grades, studying, preparing for college, and talking. Then, spring came and brought with it college responses. With his grades, test scores, and essays, Dipper managed to get accepted into some high ranking colleges, but he was most happy that Wirt had gotten accepted to three of the same colleges that Dipper had, one of which was highly favored by both. They video chatted that might, gushing over each others’ successes and happily imagining what the first year of college might be like. 

Wirt wasn’t a fan of cold weather and Dipper hated temperatures over 80 degrees, so they settled on a college in a warmer state, with just enough of an elevation to limit how hot the summers would be. 

As his final summer break before college finally began and the stress of finals started to abate, Dipper began packing for the drive to his new campus. Sadly, Mabel hadn’t applied to that college, but she had gotten accepted to one that was only a few hours’ drive away, so visits would be frequent. Freshmen had assigned dorms on campus with a roommate exam matching each person to one or two others, so Dipper had prepared a few different scripts to use, one for a cool roommate, one for a boring roommate, one for a douchey roommate, and one for an absent roommate, all color-coordinated. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing to the person he would be rooming with for the next two years, minimum. 

A few days later, he and Mabel had shoved their luggage into the trunk of Dipper’s car and were in the midst of saying goodbye to their parents for the eighteenth time. Mabel had refused to get a driver’s license, quoting studies about the damage driving has on the environment and human health, so Dipper would drive her to her campus, where she would rely on the college’s free bus system to get where she needed. 

The drive would take a day so they stopped at a hotel halfway there. Since Dipper had driven and was therefore too busy to talk to Wirt, he spent the next two hours chatting with Wirt about tourist traps he has driven past, the whole time trying to tune out Mabel’s loud getting-ready-for-bed-one-woman-performance. 

Wirt said that he was already at his dorm and that his roommate, singular, had yet to arrive. He then sent an invite for a video chat and, when Dipper accepted, gave him a shaky but descriptive tour of his half of the large suite. There were five rooms: a living room, two bedrooms, each with personal bathrooms, and a small kitchen. The kitchen had a stove, a small fridge, and a microwave. Dipper also noticed a small kettle, covered in stickers. 

Wirt babbled on about how nervous he was to meet his roommate and for classes to start, only stopping when Mabel burst from the bathroom to fill the room Dipper was in with her loud and only slightly off-key singing. 

“Oh hi, Wirt!” She shouted at the laptop, receiving a shocked greeting from Wirt in return. Shortly after the disruption, Wirt yawned, his jaw popping at the exertion. Dipper said goodnight and not long after he and Mabel were out cold. 

When he dropped Mabel off, she gripped him tightly and whispered “Go get him, tiger. He’s gonna love you, if he doesn’t already.” Her words were comforting, if not surprising, and he focused on the gentle pink lighting up around the points of contact to distract from the tears that wanted to escape. 

Her words echoed in his brain as he sped down the highway, stealing any semblance of extra focus that he would have had otherwise. 

As Dipper hauled his suitcase down the hallway, pausing a second to glance down at his phone to double-check what room he’s heading to. As he does, he hears a soft voice muttering what sounds like poetry escape the open door a few rooms ahead of him. 

“I falter, for the sight of you stops my breath, and gaze at the light that is you. Instantly, color fills my world, as there is no life where I do not love you.” Dipper creeps closer, not wanting the speaker to stop. “I stumble around blindly, looking for your guiding light, for when you are not around the world is dark. Now I stand, gazing upon a—” the speaker cuts off as Dipper lets out a gasp. 

In the room, Dipper’s room, Wirt stands, dressed in a pale yellow sweater and old blue jeans, and stares at Dipper before stuttering a rushed “Dipper! What, what are you doing here? I didn’t tell you my room did I?”

Dipper let out a breathy chuckle. “Wirt, this is my room. I… it seems like we might be roommates. I, what was that that you were reading? Who was it for?” Wirt’s Face burned bright red and the heat of Dipper’s own cheeks told him that he was blushing just as hard. 

“It was…” He trailed off, the answer whispered into his hands, which had crept up to cover his face. He peeked through a gap in his fingers and followed Dipper as he took a slow step forward. He dropped his hands, took a deep breath, and blurted out “It was for you! I wrote it for you because I love you!” He pauses. “I love you,” he muttered, softer this time. 

Dipper closes the distance between them, shakily stretching out a hand and pausing just inches from Wirt’s face. Wirt takes the initiative and leans into his palm. Instantly, the points of contact light up a soft beige, but Dipper focused on the beige pouring from Wirt’s chest, illuminating the shape of his heart. 

“Oh boy. That’s a, that’s a soulmark.” Wirt must notice the confused furrow of Dipper’s brow because he continues. “It’s a super rare thing that happens only when people love each other purely and like initiate purposeful contact with each other or something. There’s like twenty cases of this happening in the last four decades.”

Dipper felt his blush spread down his neck. “We’re just that special, I guess. If you couldn’t guess, I love you too, Wirt. I’ve been in love with you since the first day we met.” Dipper looked into Wirt’s eyes, filled with comfort by the pure love held in the brown depths. His other hand met Wirt’s cheek and the beige hue brightened. 

Dipper knew then and there that he would move heaven and earth to keep Wirt’s love close by, would fight the world if it meant making him happy.

[f3ruchan]

my part for the secret santa organized by @pinesconess2k17 the prompts were blushing cheecks and  reading together for @hypnauticalstar :D

[plugnuts]

Fic idea where Dipper and Wirt work in the same company and the team they're on is running a Secret Santa exchange. It's either they both get each other, or one gets the other, and it's a whole thing where they have to find out what the other likes and what their interests are in order to get them the best gift they can. In doing so they realise that through all this they've caught some feelings and have to then figure out how to deal with that whilst also trying to remain as discreet as possible as to not blow their cover. The exchange happens and, well, one way or another gifts are exchanged and a possible confession scene happens.

[sandrakir31]

Oh, I really want to take part in the secret Santa in Pinescone ... Why lately I have so little free time and there is no discord?

[pinesconee]

I see that you reblogged the Secret Santa fic I wrote (Mistletoe) and squee!! That makes me so happy!! ;w; I'm definitely glad to see this blog back too! Pinescone has been one of my fave ships for years. 💙

bawwww no problem, it's really my pleasure! Mod Pine actually queued that up but I gave it a skim while it was in there and it was PREEEETY rad if I do say so myself! love ur writing!

I'm glad the blog is back too, I have SO many ideas for revamping it in the coming month! new theme, mini blog-specific events (think like morbid mondays, trans tuesdays, fanfic fridays, &tc.) and a LOT of little headcanon blurbs and oneshots ahead! it'll take a while to get organized and scheduled, of course, but it's SO encouraging to hear from creators and fans alike who're still in the fandom [shipdom???]~☆

pinescone 2k19 is a TEAM effort lol

[slptee]

here’s your present for pinescone secret santa @f3ruchan ! the prompt was baking .

[nour386]

Ballad of the Past

My gift to @lyeox for the @pinesconessecrets 2019 event! I apologise for the wait. I hoe you enjoy your youtuber au.

(also on ao3!)

“It’s so beautiful.” Dipper’s fingers trembled as they neared the golden plaque. “If I were to die right now, I would have no regrets.”

“Hey! No dying yet. You still owe me dinner.” Wirt placed his hands on his hips. 

The pair stood in Dipper’s bedroom, hastily cleaned for their impromptu recording. Dipper had just received his 1 million subscriber award. The golden plaque had arrived that very morning, and every person and cryptid within a 3 mile radius was made well aware of its delivery. But in this present moment, Dipper was hoping to let his fans know how grateful he was for their help in reaching this milestone.

Dipper pressed his finger to his lips. “Hush, I’m celebrating.”

“This is what I have to deal with.” Wirt said. He turned to the camera at the foot of the bed and pointed to his boyfriend, who had started to weep over the golden plaque.

“I’d like to thank the academy,” Dipper sobbed.

“Okay, we’re going to cut recording for now. Dipper needs some time,” Wirt said. “See you guys in a few minutes. Or an hour if his uncle sees the gold plaque and tries to pawn it off.”

Wirt clicked off the recording and turned to his boyfriend. “Are you feeling okay?” “Yeah, yeah, I just need a second.” Dipper wiped his eyes.

“Oh my gosh, I thought you were just being dramatic.” Wirt withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket. He gently pressed it against Dipper’s cheek, wiping away his tears. 

“I’m fine.  No, really.” Dipper took the handkerchief and wiped his eyes. “I haven’t been able to cry properly for years.” “Yeah…that doesn’t sound anywhere near the definition of fine.” Wirt crossed his arms.

“Don’t get your antlers in a twist.” Dipper punched Wirt’s arm. 

“Rude!” Wirt gasped.

“Says the man who speaks in demonic tongues when he stubs his toe.” Dipper stuck out his tongue.

 Wirt stomped his foot. “Your cabinet is made of redwood! It hurts!”

“Well, good to know what the biggest weakness of a tree demon is.” Dipper rolled his eyes.

“I refuse to be insulted this way,” Wirt said.

“How would you prefer to be insulted then?” Dipper smirked.

“Not at all. Thank you very much.” Wirt sat down heavily on the bed, making Dipper jump.

“Guess these are sticks in the mud then.” Dipper tugged at Wirt’s antlers.

“That tears it.”

Wirt tackled Dipper onto the mattress. He mercilessly tickled the other boy, smirking wickedly as Dipper begged for mercy between giggles. Dipper tried to fight back, but Wirt was wiggly, like a palm in a hurricane.

“Uncle! Uncle!” Dipper cried between giggles.

Wirt stopped his assault, giving his boyfriend a chance to catch his breath. Dipper took  this moment to attack Wirt back. Reaching under his boyfriend's arm and tickling his sides. 

“That isn’t fair!” Wirt gasped. “You gave up.” “All’s fair in love and war,” Dipper grinned. He decided to grant Wirt some mercy and got off the bed. 

“That has to be illegal,” Wirt said after a few deep breaths.

“Under the Geneva Convention, probably, but in the Pines house hold it certainly isn’t.” Dipper stuck out his tongue.

“Ugh, my own boyfriend assaulting me in my time of need.” Wirt rolled over, turning his head away in faux disgust. “I knew I should have stayed in the forest.”

“Sour puss.” Dipper flicked Wirt’s ear before sitting back down onto the bed. 

He laid the plaque on his lap.  Inside the rectangular frame was the Youtube logo, a play button. Below were the words, warded to Cryptid Hunters Anonymous for passing 1,000,000 subscribers”. Not to mention the most important detail: it was entirely made of gold. Dipper gently ran his hand over it. The cool metal reflected his own teary eyed grin.

“So, do you have any plans for your big one mil commemorative video?” Wirt asked. He sat up and rested his chin on Dipper’s shoulder. “A special cryptid hunt? A behind the scenes tour?”

“Bleh, I’ve already shown my recording equipment. Although, I guess I could try an AMA for the multibear. He seemed to enjoy the interview last time.” Dipper furrowed his brow.

“What about unreleased hunts?” Wirt asked, wrapping his arms around Dipper’s waist.

“I already posted everything,” Dipper said. “Well...there is one. But, um...”

“Yes? What’s the problem? It can’t be the video, you’re a wonder on your laptop.” Wirt flourished his hand. “You colourised an old video that was dyed grey from those monochrome goblins.”

“It’s not that.  I did need to replace the camera after that one, though. And funnily enough, I also couldn't edit the footage whatsoever.” Dipper shrugged awkwardly. “I guess it’d be easier to show you. But you have to promise to not make fun of me.”

“Dipper, please. I would never. I’m a respectable tree monster.” Wirt nuzzled into Dipper’s neck. “Besides, I watched your earlier videos. I’ve seen you at your worst. How bad can  it be?”

Dipper brought his laptop to the bed. With a couple of clicks, he opened up the video he had hidden away from the public eye. He gave a heavy sigh as he sat back and cuddled up to Wirt.

“So, remember when we met up at that cafe on Fifth Street for the first time?” Dipper asked. “And how you said it was really lucky that I decided to sit next to you that day?”

“Yes, I remember Mabel waving to you from across the cafe and pushing us to spending the day together.” Wirt tapped his chin.

“It worked out, didn’t it?” Dipper grinned. “You even said yes to a date with me by the end of it.” 

“What could I say? You were adorable. Especially when you snuck looks at that script you wrote on a napkin,” Wirt teased. “Who even does that?”

“Someone worth dating, quite obviously.” Dipper raised his nose in pride.

“C’mon, start it up, Francis Ford Coppola.” Wirt nudged him with his elbow.

“Fine, fine.” Dipper reached forward and started up the video.

The screen was dim. A squelching noise came out of the laptop’s speakers as the image focused on the muddy ground. Leaves lay strewn all across the forest floor while Dipper detailed his goal for that day’s hunt. Mabel occasionally called out her opinions to ‘lessen the nerdiness,’ as she phrased it.

“It’s been raining really heavily for the past few days, so I decided to check out if this affect anything in the forest. I mean obviously it would, it’s not like rain was invented yesterday.”

He kept talking, leaves squelching underfoot as he walked.

“I know the gnomes are probably not too happy about this. They had an outdoor barbeque planned for today. They handed out invites and everything.” Dipper flashed a crudely drawn greeting card. It showed a crayon drawing of a short man with a pointy red hat and a white apron standing behind a smoking red barbeque. 

“But no one shows up to their barbeques!” Mabel’s distinctly cheerful could be heard behind the camera.

Dipper turned the camera to show his sister sticking out her tongue. “When the only thing on the menu is pinecone, roast pinecone, and pine cone steak, I doubt you’d have crowds flocking over.” 

“Maybe they’d have more people come if they didn’t kidnap people all the time,” Mabel teaseded. 

Dipper turned the camera around and continued his hike through the woods. He would occasionally stop to point out different tracks and markings he came across. Mabel would drop in a comment or two, often at her twin’s expense. After concluding that the venture was uneventful, the pair agreed to head back.

“Dipper, if it starts raining on me and my hair gets ruined. I will never forgive you,” Mabel said from off screen.

“Let me just check that next clearing.” 

“Fine, only because I know you need the exercise,” Mabel teased.

The camera was pointed at the clearing in question. It looked rather dark, much like the rest of the woods, thanks to the dark clouds above. As Dipper neared, a figure came into view, standing in the centre of the clearing.

“Hey, I see something over here!” Dipper cried, walking further into the clearing. 

Before him stood a wooden statue of a gnome no taller than his knee, including the hat. The statue’s face was caught half way through a scream of terror, mouth openwide, eyes half closed andarms raised defensively.

“Is it petrified?” Dipper tapped the statue with his finger. “It’s too detailed to be handmade.”

“Dipper, look out!” Mabel’s voice was distant.

Before he could realise what his sister meant, Dipper bumped into someone he hadn’t noticed. The camera fell to the ground, pointing upwards, showing a tall, shadowy figure with antlers that seemed to meld with the branches of the trees above. They stared Dipper down with shining eyes.

“Oh no, he’s hot,” Dipper muttered just before he was dragged out of shot. “Wait no the camera!”

“Camera later. Staying alive now!” Her voice faded out.

The creature looked down at the camera before the picture cut to black.

“And that was that,” Dipper said. He did jazz hands.

“That...oh, no.” Wirt rested his head in his hand. “Oh cheese and crackers. Please tell me I didn’t chase after you.”

“No, we got back to the Shack safely. The camera, on the other hand, showed up on our doorstep a week later, covered in oil with the SD card being the only thing still intact.” Dipper rubbed the back of his head. “This footage was kinda messed up, so I couldn’t really edit out that last comment at the end there. So I kinda shelved it.”

“Oh no. I can’t believe this is happening right now.” Wirt’s face was now completely buried in his hands. “Please just kill me now.” 

“Sorry, fresh out of holy water,” Dipper said. “So, um you wanna explain what was going on there?”

“Okay, so long story short, I was working off some steam and petrified a gnome in the woods.” Wirt had laid back on the bed.

“Wait, that was an actual gnome?” Dipper asked. “You just petrified someone?”

“He was a fairy dust dealer.” Wirt rolled his eyes. “It was a moral freebie.”

“Right.” Dipper didn’t sound convinced. “And why were you so peeved?” “Oh my gosh you would not believe.” Wirt sat up fingers rubbing his temples. “Alright so, the elves in the wood hold a poetry competition once every 5 years. So I enter, all wide-eyed and hopeful thinking that my poetry has a chance of making it in, right?” Dipper laid back, rolling his eyes at his boyfriend’s enthusiastic narration. A soft smile spread across his face as he leaned against Wirt.

Wirt started waving his arms as he spoke. “I walk up to the stage, my nerves making me feel sick after waiting 3 hours for my turn. I stand up with my ballad. I had spent months writing, re-writing, re-writing again and re-writing one more time for luck. Not to mention rehearsals. And then after sitting through the extravaganza of elvish poetry, which can last for days at a time, I leave the competition wish last place! The judges said my entry was ‘too short’.”

“What was an acceptable length? 2 weeks?” Dipper chuckled.

“Apparently! “ Wirt threw up his arms. “I thought for sure I would have scored higher than the one elf who just stood there and gave a failed improv routine. He didn’t even rhyme! Not even once! And he somehow left with third place.” 

Dipper leaned over and lightly pecked Wirt’s cheek. “I would have given you first place.”

“You’re my boyfriend. That would be cheating.”

“How about you read your poem to me and I’ll judge it,” Dipper said. 

“Interesting.” Wirt tapped his chin. “It would give me the opportunity to show off my prowess. Sure, why not. I’ll be back in a few.”

As he watched his boyfriend scurry out the door; Dipper smiled fondly. He grateful for that fateful day in the woods. And while he made himself comfortable in bed, he wondered if he could have poetry reading be his one million subscriber special. His fans were interested in his love life, so maybe a small preview wouldn’t hurt.

[pinesconesecret2k17]

Hello Fellow Pinesconers!

about two years ago we had a great Pinescone secret Santa ( @pinesconeforchristmas​ ) event. And in the spirit of both our love of these nerds and our love of gift, another is being held!

Sign-ups will be held from the 7th until the 20th.

For more information please check out the rules and Guidelines before signing up.

And when you’re ready: 

Sign-up!

[pinesconessecrets]

Gifts Due

the week long extension to submit has come to an end. As such all participants are required to submit their gifts as soon as possible.

[sci-fri-archived]

Hi, I just wanted to tell you that I updated the gift I made you for the pinescone secret santa to AO3, and I wondered whether you had a an account there so I could tag you!

AHHHH, you can tag me with Sci_Fri1 on AO3 ahhhhh tha n k you?!!!!