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#gravity falls tickles
anxious-lee · 4 months
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Nothing To Prove || Gravity Falls Tickle Fic ||
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A/N: there's a lot of buildup at the start but THIS IS A TICKLE FIC I SWEAR! more than anything though, I'm writing this for the sake of developing characters. This is familial love so if I see any i*cest, I am blocking you on sight
Summary: When Ford comes to realize how much Dipper looks up to him, he seeks out a way to show his young nephew that there's no need to be intimidated by him.
Word count: 2,454
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Dipper
Life just got a whole galaxy bigger.
Dipper thought he knew what his life would become when he found that old dusty book in the forest; he'd pursue adventure, get into danger, fight monsters.
But meeting his number one hero? And then finding out that he's related?
Not a chance.
It'd been a year since Dipper and his sister left Gravity Falls. They had lots of time that school year to ruminate on everything they had been through together. In the span of three months, their whole universe had turned inside out.
They had another uncle. Someone else to look out for and protect them. Mabel, as she is with all news of this sort, was over the moon. Dipper, however, wasn't as content. It wasn't that he didn't like Great Uncle Ford. Far from it. He loved him unconditionally. He worshipped the ground he walked on. He would fight a thousand beasts to earn his mentor's pride. And that was the problem.
Dipper had spent so long dreaming of the author as this distant hero; an intellectual mastermind that surpassed all around him. He dreamt of meeting him, yes. Bombarding him with questions, absolutely. But now the man was part of his family. The same family that he cracked stupid fart jokes and goofed around with.
Dipper wasn't prepared to have someone so important to him in his life on a permanent basis. He couldn't help but feel a little small around Ford, like every move he made was a chance to embarrass himself in front of his idol.
After his first summer in Gravity Falls ended, Dipper hoped that his overwhelming sense of awe would pass with the time, and he would grow more comfortable around this new addition to the family. But the moment he stepped off of that bus and saw his great-uncle there to greet him, he knew it wouldn't be quite that easy.
He volunteered for as many of Ford's experiments as he could. He offered as much help as he could provide. When faced with an obstacle, Dipper made sure to prove to his uncle that he was smart and tough beyond his years. This, as one might expect, is a difficult and exhausting image to maintain. Being "the perfect, mature man of science" was hard when you were a young, hormonal teenage boy. But that wasn't going to stop Dipper.
When Ford had asked if him if he wanted to help engineer a stronger form of glass that could withstand abnormally high temperatures, he nearly fell over with excitement. He was going to be the best lab assistant Ford could ask for.
It seemed, however, that he couldn't get that right after all, because when bringing over the regular glass jar for experimentation, it slipped through his fingers and shattered.
Dipper was mortified. Not only had he broken the constant variable in their experiment, but possibly also the trust Ford placed in him to be a responsible assistant. How could he have been so careless? Was their experiment ruined now? Did Ford think he wasn't taking this seriously?
"Oh my gosh! Oh my- I- I'm so sorry, Great Uncle Ford! I don't know what happened. I thought I had it" Dipper rambled, throat tightening.
"Aw shoot," Ford cursed under his breath, "It's okay, Dipper, it happens. Here, why don't you go fetch me a new jar from the back shelves while I sweep up this mess?"
"Act- Actually you know what, I think you might actually have an easier time doing this if I wasn't here. I- I don't want to get in your way. " Dipper shuffled back towards the door.
"But I thought you wanted to-" Ford turned to his nephew only to find that he was already gone.
---
Ford
It was unusual, and not the kind that Ford enjoyed. The puzzling kind of unusual.
The conclusion did not follow the variables. Variable one: Ford was conducting an experiment. Variable two: Ford asked Dipper for assistance. Variable three: Dipper was eager to help. Conclusion: Dipper had panicked and ran off. It just wasn't right. Something was off balance.
Now, in a technical situation, Ford could figure out the root cause himself. He had well over thirty years of practice doing so. But this was a human being. Moreso, this was his great nephew, and he wasn't so skilled in the people area. He needed to outsource this predicament with someone who knew Dipper longer than he had. Someone he could trust to tell him what he was doing wrong.
That someone in particular was tucking away a large medieval flail in the cupboards of the sitting room when Ford found him. What it was for, Ford thought it better not to ask.
"Stanley, can I talk to you about something?" He said.
"I didn't know it was a bear, honest!" Stan yelled.
"What?"
"Uhh, nothing. What's on your mind?"
"I have the strangest feeling that Dipper is more anxious than normal. He ran out of my lab this morning looking like he'd seen a ghost, which I have ruled out as a possibility because the air did not smell at all of sulfur. Anyway, the point is, I think something's wrong with him. You've known him far longer than I have. I thought maybe you would have better insight into these things" Ford explained.
Stan stood silently for a moment.
"Stan?"
"Oh sorry I was just enjoying the moment you finally came to me for advice"
"Stanley."
His brother quirked an eyebrow at him. "You don't gotta be a genius to figure this one out, Poindexter. The kid's afraid of looking bad in front of ya."
Ford was stunned into silence. This was a new feeling. An new, terribly odd feeling.
"What?"
"Come on, you've got to have noticed by now. He looks to you like you're a god. He practically worships the ground you walk on. You were like his hero before you'd even met him. You think he's not gonna feel some pressure to live up to your standard? He just wants you to be proud of him."
"I love him! He's my brother's grandson! And of course I'm proud of him. He's very remarkable for his age" Ford said.
"Then why don't you tell him that once in a while."
Ford lost himself in thought.
"Well, time to get back to restocking my weapons. Good luck with your family tension. I'll call you for dinner," Stan sauntered away, seemingly unbothered by the problem, "Prepping for battle, do do do..."
Once again, Ford was left alone to think.
---
This wasn't the first time that Ford had heard someone tell him that he had a standoff-ish impression on people, but he never thought it would impact his kin. Someone he treasured so greatly. Now that he knew how Dipper was feeling, he couldn't waltz around and act like he didn't know. Something had to be done. The only issue was, he didn't know what.
Ford waited a couple days before asking Dipper to rejoin his experiments, knowing that the boy probably wouldn't be willing to assist him just yet after what happened. To his relief, Dipper agreed.
It was still painful to know that his nephew was intimidated by him, but it felt nice just to have him by his side again being his seemingly normal self.
The day went without a hitch this time. In fact, things went quicker than expected and they finished early. It was as they were readying themselves to leave when Ford spoke.
"Thank you for your help today, Dipper. I've been having trouble operating all of this machinery by myself lately. Must have thrown out my back or something."
"I wouldn't worry about it," Dipper replied, "Muscles get tighter with age, so I'm sure it's normal."
Ford turned to look down at his nephew. "Are you calling me old?"
The boy paled. "Wh- I- Uh- I- I wasn't-"
"I'm afraid I have no choice but to punish you for your disrespect" the scientist said darkly.
Before Dipper could have time to overthink that threat, Ford pulled the boy into his arms, sat himself on the ground and started tickling his belly.
The first few seconds were filled with frantic babbling; jumbled syllables trying to make themselves into a coherent sentence. Ford wasn't hearing a "stop", so he didn't.
Dipper giggled hysterically. His face had instantly screwed itself up tight and was looking for a way to bury itself into some hiding place. "GREATUNCLEFORHOHORD! WHAT ARE YOU DOHOHOHOING?!"
"Tickling you, of course! I thought that was obvious," Ford answered with cheer, all pretend-seriousness gone. He chuckled. "I guess you inherited more from me than I thought."
Dipper couldn't seem to figure out what to do with his hands, until he settled on hiding his face with them.
"Aw, don't be shy, son. I'm not the author today. Today, I'm just your uncle," Ford then added with a growl, "Your uncle: the tickle monster!"
The boy's arms fell from his face, settling down on his lap like little t-rex arms. He seemed to have surrendered to the silliness of it and didn't bother to fight.
Wonderful, Ford thought, that means he trusts me!
As Ford moved from belly to sides to ribs, Dipper's laughter went up and down like a rollercoaster, his child-like smile never leaving his face. "IHIHIHI'M SORRYHIHIHI!"
"Nuh uh, kid. "Sorry"'s not gonna cut it," Ford said playfully. He was surprised how good he was at this. He didn't have much experience with playing with children, and he had thought his decades of interdimensional travel would've hardened him to such silliness. Thank the gods that it hadn't.
As Ford's hand started to travel up to the boy's underarm, the boy shrieked and suddenly found the will to fight.
"EHEHEHEK! NONONONONO!"
Ford couldn't help himself laughing at his adorable little ward. "Ticklish there, huh?"
"YEHEHES" Dipper cried.
"Okay, okay, I'll make you a deal. You take back what you said about me being old, and I'll stop tickling you."
Ford had expected the kid to be worn out by now. He thought it was only fair to offer him an out. To his surprise, he didn't take it.
Dipper seemed to think it over for a second, then shook his head with an extra giggle, one that was not from the tickling.
This kid is going to be the death of me, Ford thought, not a hint of regret in his mind.
"Okay, if you say so," the man said playfully, and dug all six fingers into the boy's hollows.
A shriek, and then more rambling, and then loud laughter.
Dipper, despite being tickled within an inch of his life, looked happier than Ford had ever seen him. If this was a dream, Ford did not want to wake up.
"I've got some questions for you, Dipper. Smile for yes and laugh for no, ya got it?"
All he could do was laugh.
"Okay, are you smart?"
Dipper sunk his chin in to his chest.
"Dipper, this won't work if you say yes and no" Ford remarked with fake incredulousness, "Okay, hmmmm... are you brave?"
The teen began to snicker.
"I don't think you understand the rules of this game," Ford said, which only made Dipper laugh harder.
"Alright, alright, last one. Are you ticklish?"
Dipper let out a snort at that infernal question.
"I'll take that as a yes," Ford smiled smugly.
After several more minutes of goofing around, Dipper finally had enough.
"OKAYHYHYHY OKAYHYHY! I TAKE IT BAHAHACK!"
"Good lad." And with that, Ford released his victim.
Dipper wrapped his arms around himself and giggled till there were no more laughs left in him.
"You okay, son? I didn't go too crazy, did I?"
"No no, I'm fihihine. Mabel's put me through much worhorse."
"I can believe that. She got that from your uncle Stanley, you know."
After having regained his breath, Dipper got up from his uncle's lap. "So... are you really not mad about the jar I broke the other day?"
"Oh, Dipper, of course I'm not. You should see the things I've broken down here. You'd be shocked."
"But when you make a mistake, it's different." Dipper recoiled. Apparently, he didn't mean to let that slip.
"What do you mean?"
Dipper's timidness was returning, and Ford almost regretted even asking.
"It's just... you've done so many great things and are so perfect the rest of the time that the mistakes you make don't count as much."
That was some seriously flawed logic, but Ford chose not to point it out.
Dipper continued. "I make too many mistakes."
"Dipper, you're supposed to make mistakes. You're twelve. Do you think I was able to do all the things I do now at your age? Not even remotely.
"And more to the point, you don't have to embarrassed about those mistakes. Especially not with me."
"But you're different! You're the author! The author I'd been searching for all summer. You're a dimension-hopping scientist! And surprise, surprise, you're even cooler in person! And I'm just... so... small.
"I keep trying to make myself useful, to be someone you can be proud of, but-"
Ford kneeled down and placed both hands on the kid's shoulders. "Dipper, listen very close to me. I'm going to tell you something, and I need you to really hear me, understand?"
Dipper hesitantly nodded.
"I am so proud of you. You're my great nephew. I'm proud of you every minute of every day. That's not something that can change. You've got nothing to prove to me. You make me proud simply by being who you are. Never question that. Can you do that for me, son?"
The boy looked near to tears.
Oh gods, Ford thought, did he say something wrong? He thought this would make him feel better, not worse! Should he-
Little arms suddenly hugged his neck tight. "Yeah... yeah I can."
Ford could not get his arms around him fast enough.
"Now, don't you ever go comparing yourself to me. What a disservice to your incredible self."
Dipper hugged tighter.
Ford himself could feel little pin pricks in his own eyes. He released his hug and cleared his throat.
"Well, I think we've had enough excitement down here for one day. What do you say we head back upstairs for dinner."
Dipper wiped his eyes with a happy smile. "Sounds good to me."
The two walked back towards the door, a new kind of bond formed between them. It felt like something had been accomplished today, and that was all either of them could ask for.
"You are old, though."
"Oh, I'll show you old. Get back here!"
----
This has been an idea of mine for quite some time. Rewatching the show was just the straw that broke this writer's back apparently. So happy to have finally written this ❤️
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al1en-invasi0n · 27 days
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Hello, Hello!
This is the first fanfic I have ever ever written!! Isn't that cool?
Just so you know, this is a fanfic about tickling, so if you dislike that then please don't interact!
Lers: Grunkle Stan, Mabel
Lee: Dipper
"Give it back!!"
That was the first thing Grunkle Stan heard that morning. Judging by the screechy girlish nature of the voice...it was probably Dipper. it was just a little too girly to be Mabel. It was too early for this. Only thirty minutes past noon, we're they trying to take away his beauty sleep or something? It was probably some pointless argument that could be settled with less than a paragraph anyway...may as well check on them. He knew how big stupid fights could get between siblings.
"Oh c'mon..."
He groaned, sitting up and cracking his back before dragging himself downstairs. There he saw the sight of the problem: the journal. Mabel was holding it above her head, running around while trying her darn hardest to convince him into taking a break.
"Oh come on Dipper! Just for one day! Take a break, you'll be fine!"
"I can't take a break! We don't know everything that's out there! Give it back!"
Right before he tried to snatch it, she pulled away, running up to Grunkle Stan. Her and Dipper ran circles around him, who was barely processing what was happening in his sleepy un-caffeinated state, groaned and grabbed Dipper by the back of his jacket.
"Look kiddo, shooting star here is right. You keep your nose stuffed in that book 24/7, you'll give yourself bad eye sight like me."
Dipper fought against his grip, trying to tug himself away while shooting Mabel a half hearted glare.
"But I still have things to be doing! Grunkle Stan you don't get it! I need the journal back!"
Stan groaned and thought for a moment or two. How was he supposed to work this out between the two? Especially when he wasn't entirely awake, nonetheless. He knew a few tactics that tired Dipper out, but judging by the chaos he was woken up to, no, he had to go big or go home.
"Mabel, hide the journal somewhere and meet me in the living room with your brother."
"What?! But Grunkle Stan!-"
"No buts! You wake me up over something stupid? You'll learn not to."
Without letting Dipper really process those words, Mabel already running off to hide the book, Stan brought Dipper to the living room by the arm. He sat down and gripped both his shoulders, making eye contact and speaking in a serious yet concerned and somewhat soft tone.
"Look kid, you're too young to be worried about this whole...cryptid thing. I understand you have a nack for it, but take a break why don't ya?"
Dipper avoided eye contact for a few moments before nodding, giving a soft sigh and looking up at him again. He felt bad for causing his Grunkle stress, but he just had to find out what was going on with Gravity Falls.
"I'm almost a teenager though, and I know I can handle it! Please, I have so many things that I'm close to solving, I can't just...take a break now!"
"He can't even take a shower!"
Mabel chimed in, skipping from the doorway over to the two and looking at Grunkle Stan. He decided that enough was enough, it was time to make him relax, even if it was by forcing him into exhaustion.
He suddenly took two of Dippers wrists in one hand, taking off his hat since he'd probably squirm so much it fell off anyway. He then gave him a serious look, though it quickly turned into more of a mischievous smirk than anything as he raised his other hand, wiggling his fingers at him.
"You've been so busy with that book that I've practically forgotten what your laugh sounds like...Mabel sweetie? Get his ribs."
"WHAT-?!"
he went bright red in the face and nervously squeaked, leaning away from the hand that Stan was slowly moving towards his belly. He bit his lip, but it failed to cover the nervous yet giddy smile slowly forming.
"Oooh, gladly!"
His sister joining in too? That just wasn't fair! He'd probably be dead by the end of this. He leaned forward and away from her hands, only to yelp as he bumped his stomach against Stan's hand. He gave a soft burst of giggles and jerked back, only to find his ribs being spidered across by Mabel's fingers.
"MAahahahabehel!!"
He protested, trying to move away from her only to find his Grunkle's hand was still there waiting for him to do just that. He felt like a fly in a spiders web, and the idea of getting that journal back today wasn't looking good either...
Eventually both hands had closed in on him. One was scribbling all over his belly and occasionally jumping to his side to catch him off guard, while two more hands were running up and down his ribs and digging into the spaces in between. He let out multiple loud and embarrassingly girly shrieks, laughing his head off and trying to tug both arms down to no avail.
"WAHAahahahait- Gruhuhunkle Stahahan!! Thihis isn't fahahair!"
"Yeah well life ain't fair kiddo. You're taking a nap."
"I'm nohot evehen tihihirehed!!"
"You will be after this!"
Mabel suddenly shot back, moving her hands to his back and wiggling her fingers against his spine. One went up and down it rapidly while the other focused on where it met the neck, making him scrunch his shoulders up and snort a few times from laughing so hard.
"NONONOHONOnOHOHhohohooo!!- not theheRE!! Snrk- MAHABAHAL!!"
He squealed out, kicking his legs since his arms were still trapped, a wide smile stuck across his lips as he squeezed his eyes shut. He could feel his face burning bright red from the embarrassment of the situation, but it actually did feel kind of nice to relax like this for once...
He quickly regretted ever starting to enjoy it as he felt his shirt get lifted up, followed by Grunkle Stan picking him up and snickering down at him. He took a deep inhale before pressing his lips to his stomach, blowing a long raspberry against the skin. He flinched slightly at the shriek that Dipper produced, but managed to tune it out after a few seconds.
"GHAAAAHhhahaha!!- hic- NAHAHAH!! GRUAHAHANKAHAL-!!"
He shrieked out, pushing at his shoulders and head now that his arms were free while trying to squirm out of his lap. The bit of facial hair mixed with the raspberrys were driving him up the wall within seconds, and it didn't help that Mabel decided to start scratching at the hollows behind his knees.
He let out loud, high pitched cackles, repeatedly snorting and hiccuping whenever he attempted to take a break. Tiny tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, his face scrunched up with how hard he was laughing. He started to get really wheezy, his brain shutting off for the most part due to being tickled senseless.
He kept laughing for maybe another minute or so, and despite really wanting to work on that journal yet again, he had his limits. He patted the back of Stans head, barely managing to speak through his own laughter.
"I'LL REHEST!! Ihihi'll rehehehehest pleEAHAHAA-!!!"
Him, who was already out of breath himself from blowing so many raspberries back to back, pulled his head away and let Dipper relax. Mabel gave a victorious grin and ruffled her twins hair, leaning on the seat while looking down at him.
"I knew you would! Come on, let's go to bed. I'll help you make your bed, it's a mess."
He only mumbled in response, still decently giggly from the tickle attack he was just forced through. After regaining his bearings, he managed to stand up, hugging himself and smiling at the two.
"Yeah yeah, okay..."
He considered saying something, but decided against it. They didn't need to know he actually had enjoyed that...as if they couldn't tell already though. He gently hugged Stan for a moment, yawning as he spoke due to being worn out.
"Good night, Grunkle Stan!"
"Night kiddo."
He fondly smiled back at him, ruffling his hair before breaking off the hug. He watched Mabel and Dipper leave to go upstairs, sighing before shutting his eyes. He'd probably just crash on the couch since he was still tired, but at least Dipper was gonna rest too. That put him at ease.
Mabel finished fixing his bed up for him, gently pulling a blanket back so he could lie down under it. He curled up under the blanket and gave a soft, content sigh, hugging a plushie Mabel let him borrow for the night. He shut his eyes, mumbling a soft "thank you" to Mabel, then slowly starting to doze off.
He smiled as he felt her ruffle his hair, the feeling helping his brain shut off into a peaceful sleep. He had the rest of summer to work, which still wasn't exactly a whole lot of time, but...maybe just...one day would be fine to rest. Not like he could or wanted to get out of bed now anyway.
He'd get back at Grunkle Stan and Mabel for this though.
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bimobuddy · 16 days
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There's a lack of Lee!Ford and Lee!Fiddleford in the community, and I'm afraid I might have to cook it up
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ashaleeleedagurl · 10 months
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[The Day When Bill and Fiddleford Cheer Up Ford]
Fandom: Gravity Falls
Ships: FiddleFord/Stanford McGucket/Fiddleford Pines/FiddleAuthor (However you say it)
Summary: Stanford and Fiddleford were working on a few experiments before Fiddleford noticed his partner a bit hesitant doing things with a triangle guy (Bill) in his mind
Lee: Ford
Ler(s): Bill, McGucket
Au: 30 yrs ago
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"So, what about next week? If we don't find them, we can try again." Fiddleford said calmly, as Ford fidgeted.
Bill came out of Ford's mind for a few minutes and said to McGucket, "He's been like this for weeks, I don't know what's wrong with him!"
They both saw Stanford fidget with a bunch of gadgets (stress toys) to calm himself down as he blankly stares at a blank piece of paper. He was also softly whimpering, for who knows how long.
Fiddleford was the first to say something to him, gently kissing him, "Ford? What has gotten into you?"
"N-Nothing dear" Ford said, turning slightly red.
Bill chimed in, "Doesn't look nor sound like it. Tell us Sixer, what's going on in that genius brain of yours."
Ford didn't want to budge still, he didn't want to tell them that he missesd Stanley.
"Sixer." Bill said sternly like a parent scolding their kid.
"I'm not talking, and you can't make me!" Ford protested, but Bill and Fiddleford had ways to make him talk.
Fiddleford and Bill wiggled their fingers in front of him and started tickling Ford in his vulnerable state.
Instead of laughing though, which Fiddleford and Bill found adorable, Ford was squealing and squeaking, still giggling though.
"Guhuhuys, cuhuhut ihihit ohohout.." Ford said, trying not to let an ILLUMINATI DEMON and his BOYFRIEND get the best of him. He was not giving up/not trying to laugh too hard.
Bill then started mercilessly tickling his armpits, which sent him into absolute hysterics.
"BIHIHILL STOHOHOP IHIHIT, PLEHEHEHASE!!!"
"Not until you tell us why you've been down in the dumps!" Bill strongly said.
"NEHEHVER!!!" Ford yelled through his squeaking laughter, his face flushed red and tears of mirth flowing down his face.
Bill looked at McGucket and he started licking all over his hip bone, making Stanford fall over.
Ford could barely talk, so his words sounded like squeaks and squeals, "OHOHKAHAHY, OHOHKAHAHY!!! IHIHIHI'LL TEHEHELL YOHOHOU!!!!"
The two ceased their tickling as Ford fell over, Fiddleford catching him mid-fall, which Ford managed to say, "I.... I miss S-Stanley..."
Bill and Fiddleford hugged Stanford and made him feel loved, even if they weren't Stan.
Ford hugged back and started crying as Fiddleford and Bill rubbed his back and head.
"It's ok hon, there's no reason to cry..." McGucket said.
Bill chimed in, "You're safe with us..."
Fiddleford started crying himself as Bill joined in a few seconds later.
They all felt better and fell asleep, cuddling on the floor.
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freedoms-secret · 23 days
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Guys, I JUST went into the Gravity falls fanfom and it's t-word side... SOMEONE PLEASE MAKE LEE!GIDEON HE'S SO CUTE 😭💗💗
I KNOW HE DOESN'T LIKE IT BUT I HEADCANON HE SECRETLT DOES
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veryblushyswitch · 2 months
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Dipper & Pacifica hugging is so precious to me ✨
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carrie-tate · 1 month
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A sudden break between the sketch event for a couple of gravity falls sketches
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You can thank @mammillariatasay for this, the sketches were drawn for her
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stelariabop · 20 days
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i just got JUMPSCARED by this frame
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cloudysfluffs · 1 month
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--And Once with Tickles!!
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A/N: BLARHG i havent posted a fic of any kind in like four years. and i havent written a TICKLE fic in like SIX years!!!! so i might be a little rusty. but this fic has been in the works for OVER A YEAR NOW and itd be a shame if only my bf gets to see it :P so im posting it to da world!!!!!
Summary: basically just if the tickle scene from Sock Opera was longer ^^'' its literally my favorite tk scene of all time so now you can have an entire fic where i stretch it out for 5k words!!!!!!!!!!!! <3
Lee: Bill? Dipper? Bipper <3
Ler: Mabel + Stan
WARNING: THIS IS AN SFW TICKLE FIC!!!!! KINK/FETISH BLOGS DO NOT TOUCH!!!!! MOST OF THE CHARACTERS IN HERE ARE MINORS AND ALL OF THEM ARE RELATED!!!!! DON'T BE WEIRD!!!!!
“Whoah, whoah, hey-- hey, HEY!”
SMASH!
The cake prop crashed against the ground with a horrible crackling sound, breaking apart beneath both of their weights. There was a collective jump and gasp from the startled crowd. Even the puppets themselves-- or, at least, the soul piloting them-- seemed taken off guard.
Despite the panic and destruction, neither Bipper nor Mabel took too long to shake it off. Bipper landed on the ground, on his stomach, just a few feet away from Mabel, who’d landed on her side. Instantly, he pushed himself up, eyes wide, feeling around the floor for the journal. A stagelight swiveled, reflecting off the shiny gold cover, and both of them leapt for it with the determination of a starving animal on a hunt. They touched down at the very same time. They wore matching, angry glares, each gripping the journal so tightly that their knuckles were turning white. Mabel knew, as she squinted to avoid the spotlight, that there was no hope in saving the show. But there was hope for saving her brother! And if that meant sabotaging everything she worked for, then…Well, it was about time she sacrificed something for Dipper. 
They rolled across the stage, tumbling over one another, until Bipper’s head reached the edge. If he craned his neck backwards enough, he could see the confused and terrified face of the audience. Something he would’ve found amusing, if the stakes weren’t so high. Mabel was on top of him, her knee on his stomach, and both hands on the journal, tugging and yanking with all her might. He just held on, harder, gritting his teeth. The very same thought was in both of their minds. I’ve almost got it!
“Get out of my brother’s body, you evil triangle!!” Mabel yelled, pressing her leg down even harder. Enough to be uncomfortable, but not enough to cause any lasting damage. She really had to engrain that thought into her head. Once Bill got out of here-- and she would get him out of here-- it would be Dipper’s body suffering the consequences. He’d already been through too much. It turned out to be just enough to get the book to slip out of his hands. Both of their eyes widened in shock, but before Bill could give too much chase, she made sure to whack him with the journal. Just for good measure. She’d wanted to do that this whole time!!
Mabel stumbled to her feet, running back to center stage, just as Bipper was starting to sit up and rub his forehead. He growled, in a way she hadn’t heard since she was in Stan’s mind, in a way she knew her brother couldn’t replicate if he tried. Fascinatingly, she watched as his face seemed to heat up, reddening his skin even more than it had been already, as he pushed himself off the ground. If he were human, she may have assumed his failure had embarrassed him. But this was Bill, they were talking about…so, if she had to guess, this was his human-body equivalent of his yellow turning red. Kinda cute! In a weird, gross way. 
“Grrr…You can’t stop me!” He scowled, his eyes narrowing on the book. Mabel looked behind her. The set pieces blocked access backstage from this side, and while she could move to the stage stairs, or even jump down, that’d take a good amount of coordination. Before she could decide…she was leapt on. She gasped, feeling the air leave her lungs as she was tackled to the wooden floor. The journal slipped from her grasp, and landed on the floor beside her. Both she and Bipper placed their hands on it at the same time, hers on the edge, and his on the palm of the cover. Bipper was sitting on top of her, straddling her waist, his chest heaving as he panted. She felt breathless, too. But, as she stared up at him, still pink in the face, and with a tired, yet satisfied grin on his face…It was as if something clicked in her mind.
“I’m a being of pure energy, with no weakness!”
Mabel stared at him, almost in disbelief. It seemed so obvious. In any other circumstance, it would’ve been the very first thing she thought of, when searching for a method to gain the upper hand in combat, without actually hurting the other person. She did it to Dipper all the time! So often, in fact, that she figured the townsfolk wouldn’t bat an eye, if they saw her do this at her own show. For the first time, it was her turn to get to wear that smug, knowing smirk. She brought her other hand around to rest over the journal like a seat belt, just so he couldn’t snatch it while she talked. 
“True…But you’re in Dipper’s body!” She reminded, to which he huffed, as if offended. What, did she think he forgot? For once, it was like she could read his mind, because she picked up for him. She lifted the hand that wasn’t protecting the journal, and wiggled her fingers.
“And I know all his weaknesses!~”
Bipper quirked a brow. In the split second between her final comment, and what she was going to do next, she could see the cogs visibly turning behind his eyes. He wasn’t used to not knowing what was about to happen. Typically, at a glance, he could look at a person and see right through to their mind, where he could pluck their thoughts and plans right out. Sometimes, he knew what someone was about to do before they did. Having to rationalize like a human made it so he had to manually run through his own mental database, for what she could possibly mean…It was such a broad assessment. He was human, for christs’ sake. What wasn’t a weakness to them, really? They couldn’t handle being stretched too far, or bleeding too much, and their limbs could only bend to a certain point. Humanity was so fragile! It was honestly a mystery how they survived so long. But he’d pinned her like this for a reason; how could she possibly hurt him? 
“What do you mean his--?”
Before he could finish, Mabel lifted her wiggling fingers…and slipped her hand into his jacket, pressing them just underneath his arm. 
Bipper felt as if his entire body seized. In the half-second that the sensation touched down, he was overcome with a surge of physical reactions he’d never experienced before. First, he shivered, goosebumps freckling over his skin. It was as if every nerve in his body ignited, with an odd, fluttery tingling. Worse, perhaps…was the way he vocally reacted.He gasped, and squeaked, an embarrassingly high-pitched noise leaping from his throat. The glare, which he’d taken pride in withstanding, was forcibly wiped from his expression, replaced by a shaky smile. It felt like his insides were bubbling. But when he opened his mouth to express that concern…he realized what it was.
“GaHhh--! AAAaahhahahahahaha!” It was the urge to laugh. Uncontrollable giggles poured out of him like bubbles to a heated cauldron. The heat he felt rush to his face only made that metaphor seem all the more accurate. Mabel and the audience might’ve heard Dipper’s voice, but he heard his own. The helplessness in his tone disgusted him. Out of his own control, his reflexes went haywire, demanding that he get anywhere as long as it was away. Robbed of the motor skills required for any complex movements, he found himself toppling backwards, pinning his arms to his sides. He’d hoped falling would be enough to put distance between him and his tormentor, but it seemed like the opposite had occurred. The moment he was down, she took advantage, by climbing on top of his waist, instead. She wriggled the fingers of both of her hands under each of his arms, ruthlessly scribbling for long enough for him to feel as if any attempts at fighting back would be futile. And then, she slid both hands down, grazing his ribs, before settling on his sides. The motion elicited another yelp, and another full-body shiver, before he settled back into the helpless giggling that had possessed him before. 
It was unusual. It was unbearable. It…tickled.
“Tickle tickle!~” Mabel cooed, and for some reason, Bipper felt a heat rush to his cheeks. In fact, the burning sensation stretched all the way to the tips of his ears, making him feel compelled to wrench his eyes shut and turn his head away. The words-- or was it that voice?-- made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Somehow, it seemed like her touch only tickled more, the teasing worsening the odd hypersensitivity afflicting his nerves. His hands locked around her wrists, and he arched his back, shoving pitifully while he used his heels to kick at the ground. Whether it was due to the tickle-induced weakness, or the pose was just that effective, he didn’t get anywhere. Mabel smirked, baring her braces like fangs, like she could see just how much the comment worked on him. Dipper couldn’t stand that, either!
“Awww, whatsa matter?~ Does it tiiiickle?~ Are you too tiiicklish to handle it?~ Kitchy-kitchy-koo!~”
“S-StahahaAAahahahahahahap!” He hissed, scowling, cursing the stutter in his voice. Damn Pine Tree’s twitchy little body and his squeaky little voice! How did he live, being so sensitive?? He couldn’t bear to listen to another word of that teasing, bringing his hands up to cover his ears. And, in retaliation, Mabel’s nails skittered upwards again. They passed over his ribs, before again settling into a gentle scratch just under his arms. It got the exact same reaction the downward motion over the same spot had caused; a gasp, a yelp, and a full-body shiver, all before his arms snapped right back down again. Both of them seemed irritated by that last response.
“AAGhh-! Whyhyhyhyhyhyhyhy cahahahahahahahan’t I mohohohohove my ahahahahahahahaharms?!”
“Reflexes!” Mabel chimed in, instantly, as if it were obvious. To a human, it may have been, but for Bill, ‘reflexes’ were an entirely foreign concept. He’d never felt so…effortlessly disarmed. And that was coming from someone who spent a good chunk of his life in the second dimension, and, the rest of the time, was confined to the mindscape. He was already relatively harmless. But somehow, when he had a physical body to interpret reality with, being helpless was so much more torturous. He knew the human body was pathetic, but really, how had they survived this long as a species, if all it took were a few pokes to entirely collapse them?? Perhaps it was a combination of how unfamiliar the sensation was to him, and how sensitive Dipper’s body was, anyway…but he felt he reserved the right to mentally complain, anyway. He felt naturally more whiny. As if Mabel could tell, she grinned, and retracted a hand.
“Here, let me help you!”
Her now-free arm shifted backwards, so her hand could lock around his wrist…and force it upwards, pinning it to the ground beside his head. The other hand, that had been trapped in place, wriggled its way out. She crossed it over his body, and switched which side she was attacking, her claws now slipping into his jacket to scratch beneath the arm she’d pinned. It all happened so quickly, Bipper hardly had the chance to look horrified…before he fully squealed, his laughter ratcheting up another octave. 
“EEEEeeehheheheheek!! ‘Hehehehehehehehehelp’?!” He echoed, offended, the bite of his tone lost in his giggling. He wanted to argue more thoroughly, but good god, that tickled so much more!! He arched his back, jerked at his elbow, and turned to one side, desperate for something-- anything-- to put distance between his skin and her nails. Talk about feeling disarmed! He thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse, and yet, here he was. 
“Yeah! Help! Now you don’t have to flail your arms around; you can just lay back and take it!” Mabel interjected, with an innocence that seemed far too natural for how cruel she was being. Bill saw some of himself in her, sometimes. With that kind smile, and flattery. So, sweetly deceptive. He had to hand it to her, she knew how to get ‘em! This girl was brimming with potential; the unicorns and butterflies and rainbows were just a thin blanket to mask the chaos that she was capable of. The little brat. Maybe he could use that someday. But now, it only aided in annoying him. 
“You’re welcome!~”
He wasn’t an idiot. He saw what she was trying to do. But just in case he didn’t, she told him, anyway. Mabel leaned down, eyes narrowed, so they were practically nose-to-nose. 
“Get outta Dipper’s body, or I’m gonna tickle you until you pass out!!”
He growled, trying to force the corners of his lips down into a frown. She wished it would be that easy! He may be weakened, and disarmed, but please! Who did she think he was? As if he suddenly realized he had control over his not-pinned hand, he reached over to try and grab at her wrist, to pry the hand attacking him away from the spot. It did work, partially, as the tugging would occasionally slide her hand downwards…but that only meant her wiggling fingers would graze his ribs, instead, and he’d be possessed by that yelp and full-body shiver that seemed to trigger every time. The reaction weakened him. As if he wasn’t weak enough! 
“Nehehehehehehehever!” He insisted, with just enough bite in his words for him to feel a swell of pride. He was starting to get used to it! His smile suddenly seemed all the more smug, practically a smirk, despite the fact that it was hardly warranted, in his current state. He was still laughing, and squirming, his entire body leaned to one side to reflexively counteract the nails scratching away at him. Mabel huffed. 
First, her eyes drifted to the stage. She wished she could see Dipper. To everyone else here, she was tormenting her innocent brother in front of an audience for no apparent reason. Worse, none of them, not even their most loved ones, would get an honest explanation. Whoops. She’d apologize to him later. In the meantime, she turned her head in the other direction.
Everyone out there seemed absolutely captivated. Well, for the most part, at least. Some seemed confused, others seemed shocked. A shocking amount seemed pretty flustered, while others sported the exact opposite mood. She could just barely see Candy and Grenda confusedly flipping through the script just off stage. But, generally, most of the crowd was enjoying this thrilling multi-media masterpiece. Even those from the Mystery Shack. In fact, maybe especially those three! Mabel couldn’t help but smile, as she met their eyes through the smearing, colorful stage lights.
Wendy was leaning back in her seat with her boots kicked up on the empty chair in front of her, an amused smirk on her face. Though she couldn’t hear anything coherent from the crowd from up here (and wouldn’t be able to, anyway, over Bipper’s high-pitched squealing), she could tell that Wendy snickered, as she elbowed Soos in the side. Soos was one of the members of the audience who seemed a little flustered over the whole endeavor. Even in the low lighting, Mabel could see just how red his face was. He was grinning nervously, and fanning himself with his cap, and flinched just a little too hard as he was nudged. It was all very sweet. Truthfully, she didn’t care if this ruined the show for most of the audience, because it wasn’t for them anymore. It was for Dipper! …But it did make her feel good, to see them enjoying themselves. And no one seemed to be enjoying himself more than Stan!
Earlier today, he seemed to be a little skeptical about coming. He was swayed incredibly easily though, which was rare for him. He was probably the most stubborn man the twins had ever met, and yet a good puppy-dog-eyed stare and a promise that the end would blow his mind was enough to convince him that maybe this memory was priceless. He’d even brought a camera to film it. Even with one of his eyes obscured by the pop-out window of the old recording device, she could see how widely he was grinning, the expression on his face one of fond amusement. He must have assumed that this was the ‘spectacular closing act’ that she’d been bragging about just a few hours earlier. It wasn’t, but if this went well, he’d never have to find that out! He caught her looking out upon the crowd, and tilted his head so more of his face was visible, his grin seeming all the more proud. He gave her a reassuring thumbs up, and she felt a new wave of confidence wash over her. She could do this.
Her eyes fell back to the demon pinned beneath her, who hadn’t stopped giggling and struggling since she shifted her attention a few moments ago. He’d probably been yelling insults she’d been too distracted to hear. She squinted at him suspiciously. If this were Dipper, she’d be jumping to his spot about now. Heck, that’s probably what she’d do when wrecking anyone! But…this wasn’t Dipper. It wasn’t ‘just anyone’. This was Bill! He already seemed to be getting the hang of this sensation, with how consistently now he was shoving at her hands, and how successful his thrashing was becoming. If she let up for even a second, he might even be able to wriggle away, or worse! She needed to not only tickle him to death, but she needed to make the session intense. What was something Dipper wouldn’t be able to stand…? 
Her gaze flickered to the crowd again. And, suddenly…she stopped.
Her smirk returned. Her wiggling fingers ceased, and instead that hand grabbed Bipper’s opposite wrist, so she was now pinning both to the floor. The demon-possessed vessel gasped the moment he felt a moment of solace, obviously annoyed by the fact that his giggle-fit didn’t immediately die. Every time he inhaled, or exhaled, he found he couldn’t stop laughing, like the feeling was still there, under his skin. But he was too out of breath to do anything about it! He fought with this natural, human response, while Mabel sat up as straight as she could.
“For my next act, I’ll need a volunteer from the audience!” She announced, proudly, as if it made any logical sense. The poor crowd was going to be so confused. But she didn’t need most of their approval. She only needed it from one. She grinned, and shut one eye, so she could point directly at her grunkle.
“How about you, good sir? You look like you’d make a fine actor!”
Stan lifted his head away from the viewfinder, visibly startled. He glanced to either side of him, pointed to himself, and brightened when Mabel nodded in approval. He didn’t hesitate any longer than that, handing the camera over to Soos (who fumbled with it for a moment, before giving a reassuring thumbs up) and climbing out of his seat. 
Bipper was only just starting to regain his composure, when he realized what was going on. He shook his head, and blinked open his eyes, squinting out at the crowd. Jesus, had the kid’s eyes always been this bad? He almost missed Sixer’s glasses. But, the very moment he processed that Mabel’s hands had released his wrists…thick, strong arms wrapped underneath his, scooping him up into a sitting position, pressed against someone’s chest. He felt like a cat being hoisted into the arms of their owner, unable to do anything but twist his shoulders and try to wriggle out of his grasp. Mabel was still sitting on his legs.  He glared over his shoulder. The light reflected off of Stan’s glasses, obscuring his eyes, and for some reason that made him look intimidating. Or maybe it was just the fact that he was in such a small, wimpy body; anyone could look like a threat, when everyone towered over you. His hands balled into fists.
“Wh-What is this?!” He scowled, stammering, trying to roll his shoulder to free it from the old man’s grasp. But it seemed like every inch that he managed to unwind, Stan just pulled him back even tighter. It was so effortless, it was hard to feel anything other than pathetic. No wonder this kid was getting tickled constantly! Everyone in town had a leg up on him!
“Let go of me!”
“This is called a grand finale!” Mabel declared, straightening her back and cracking her knuckles. The smirk on her face was downright sinister. An evil that Bill couldn’t help but think rivaled his own. She was an expert at this, wasn’t she? She knew this would up the game, considering the strength difference between them. Even with her best efforts, she wasn’t strong enough to keep him fully still. And even if she could, she’d lose leverage by being unable to use both hands. But the addition of another person-- him, especially-- had immobilized him completely, without her ever having to lift a finger. Not to mention how calculated this whole trap with her ‘grunkle’ had been. She hadn’t even had to speak word to him, for him to understand exactly where his place was, in all of this. Maybe they were psychic. Or maybe they really just did this that frequently. Man, he’d almost pity Pine Tree, if he deserved it! But he hardly had time to dwell on something like that, anyway. Not as he watched Mabel lift her wiggling fingers threateningly. 
“Last chance!”
She was bold, too. But so was he. And that would be his first mistake. Daringly-- challengingly-- he smirked.
“Pssh, yeah, right!” He chuckled, rolling his eyes. Mabel glared, as he turned up his nose, quirked a brow, and scoffed. Anyone who thought this was Dipper might almost see it as in-character behavior. He’d been similarly snarky, around this point in sessions. Stan even rolled his eyes right back, and tightened his grip, as if he’d found it predictable. But anyone who knew the truth, knew he wasn’t doing it for any reason other than to call her bluff. This was a pathetic excuse of a torture attempt. He thought smarting off would prove as much. When, actually…it did the exact opposite.
“Like I’d be convinced by a little tihihiiihihiHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHICKLING--!!”
Mabel’s wiggling fingers finally dug into his ribs. And it felt so distinctly different from the other spots, or even from how it felt when she was just grazing them earlier. It was like he’d been electrocuted, from the way his body jolted uncontrollably, and the way the sensation gripped him like a shock. The yelp of terror that jumped from his throat broke in the middle, fully replaced by helpless cackles. 
…Okay. Maybe not his proudest moment.
Maybe he should’ve known better. Maybe being in this body too long was getting to him. Maybe the stupid, human impulses that he’d gotten so good at ignoring also included this vessel’s apparent desire to talk himself into corners just to get himself tickled. Whatever the case, the whole time this had been going on, the more he felt his resolve…slipping. Exhaustion tugged at his eyelids, like his body suddenly remembered that it hadn’t gotten proper sleep in over twenty-four hours. Every part of him was sore, not that pain could even begin to compete with the tickly jolts shooting through his ribs. He considered the pro’s and con’s of dislocating a shoulder just to weasel out of here, but he couldn’t properly think. He swore he could literally feel circuits shorting in his brain, glitching and sparking and stuttering where the neat rows of coherent thought used to be. It had been a beautiful process to watch, from the other side…but was miserably frustrating, when it was your plans getting thrown out of whack! 
He wanted to growl. To kick, and scream, and either kill this vessel or one of the two holding him back. Whichever came first! But, all that came out was…
“SHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUT UHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUP!!”
…A very pathetic attempt at defiance. Enough that each of his attackers dared to snicker at him in amusement. He squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, thrashing and twisting in the restraints.
“W-WHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEN I GEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHEHEHET OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOUT OF THIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIIS, IHIHIHIHIHIHI’LL--! IHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHI’LL--!!”
Mabel couldn’t help but notice just how…not-evil he looked, like this. Bill’s base form had no mouth, and yet he somehow always seemed to be grinning. Earlier, she’d seen that condescending smirk in Bipper. But now it was gone, and she was seeing a face she’d never quite seen before. It wasn’t quite the flustered, giggly look she got from her brother, but it was far from the invisible, malevolent smile that Bill was always wearing. It was something in between. It might’ve fascinated her, if she was any less focused on the task at hand. Her nails, while dull, knew how to press just right, to tickle as much as possible without translating into physical pain. She scratched at the spaces between his ribs, and played the bones like a piano, watching in satisfied amusement as every motion elicited the same, predictable reaction. Cackles, squeaks and voice-cracks echoed through the auditorium, almost sounding musical against the backing-track of her rock-opera, that no one had bothered to turn off. If anything, Bill was even squirmier than her brother was, which was certainly saying something. This was usually the point in the session where Dipper gave up fighting, especially when Stan was helping, since he obviously didn’t have a chance. But Bill still had some fight in him! 
“I don’t know what you did to deserve this, but clearly you’re gettin’ what’s coming to ya!” Stan accused, glancing over Bipper’s shoulder in an attempt to make eye contact. The kid was clearly avoiding it. But he still peeked up, for just a moment, if only to make a point to glare. Stan took advantage of his disorientation, knowing he was disarmed just long enough for him to be able to let go of his arms. Instead, he grabbed both wrists, and pulled them behind his back, like how a cop would while handcuffing you. But he didn’t need handcuffs, because his hands were big enough in comparison to grab both of the kid’s wrists in one of his palms while still having his fingers touch in the middle. And, with one hand free…he was able to pull out one last trick. 
Fingers skittered up Bipper’s spine, spurring out an involuntary shiver that was so intense, Bill was a little surprised it didn’t jolt him out of this body entirely. He didn’t get to dwell on how scarily close that had been to breaking him, though. Because in a second, that single skittering turned into a consistent, unrelenting scribble, and any coherent thought that was left slipped out through his fingers.
“AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! NOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!”
Right. Almost all of the Pines’ were ticklish here. Maybe he should’ve seen that coming. 
It was positively overwhelming. Every curl of his blunt nails against the spot had his nerves lighting up in a frenzy, activating the useless instinct that had him squealing and laughing like this whole ordeal was the most hilarious joke he’d ever been told. But no part of this was funny!! Not when it was him! It was humiliating, at best, and a total disgrace to his reputation at worst. He was glad the folks at home couldn’t see this, because they would never let him live it down. 
“Ooh! Good call, Grunkle Stan!” Mabel praised, finally looking back up to meet his eyes with an approving smile on her face. She wished she could give him a thumbs up, but her hands were kinda busy. Bill couldn’t help but bristle at how unfair it was, that Stan could restrain him like this. He couldn’t lean forward even if he wanted to, and leaning backwards only pressed him further into that hand! And, somehow, despite the trap being objectively more simple, it was more confining! Now, he didn’t even have the privilege of flapping his hands, or making vaguely threatening gestures. And it all just tickled more! It was cruel, and unusual. He wrenched his eyes shut, and felt tears build in the corners. Crying had always been an annoying, uncontrollable thing his puppets did, but it felt especially humiliating in this context. Way to rub salt in the wound.
“MAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAKE IT STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”
Whether it be a blessing or a curse, neither of the two around him had a chance to respond to that miserable display of emotion. Because, somehow mockingly, his body turned against him. When he tried to catch his breath, he felt a hiccup of air in his chest…that caused a snort. 
The two at either of his sides brightened. And the crowd aww’ed.
He’d forgotten they were there. He was on a stage, and yet, the fact that there were more than four of them here had slipped his mind. Earlier, if he’d remembered, he would’ve shrugged it off. Whatever, who cared if they saw him like this? It wasn’t his reputation that was going to suffer for it. It was Pine Tree’s, who now had to go home and live the rest of his life knowing that most of this town had seen him get tickled on stage. And that was still, objectively, true! He knew that. He knew none of them would think twice about it. So why did the sudden realization have his face blushing hotter? Why did he feel this horrible, anxious fluttering in his stomach, like he was full of spiders? He didn’t know. But he knew it had to end. 
He couldn’t take it. It wasn’t just his self-inflicted injuries that ached, now, it was others-- his sides, and his throat, and the corners of his lips, were all begging him to just stop laughing. Other than the ache, he was pretty sure he could feel this vessel overheating. Being put in this embarrassing position had struck a match inside of him that was slowly cooking him from the inside out. But more than that, he was tired. And that was hardly a feeling he even understood. Alas, the human urge to melt into a puddle and sleep for eight hours was, apparently, real. He was on the verge of uttering a genuine please, if this didn’t end soon, and he didn’t want to pull that card unless it was a life-or-death situation. So, apparently, he only had one choice left…
Damn it. It wasn’t fair! He’d let them have this win, but his fun wasn’t over. This plan was only the first of many tricks he had up his sleeve. He glanced up at Mabel one last time, eyes narrowing, as if he could glare at her very soul. But she only countered it with a smirk. She knew she couldn’t lose. She’d never lost a tickle fight against her brother! 
Suddenly, the sound of his laughter began to taper off. It quieted into a fit of twitchy, broken coughs; it almost sounded like he was glitching. But then he slumped in his spot, quiet…and all four hands retracted. Dipper’s body melted into his Grunkle’s chest, eyes closed, as if he was out cold. Both attackers pulled back for a moment, visibly tense, and met eyes. Mabel, because she was testing to see if this was a good sign…and Stan, because he was genuinely startled. Jesus, he’d never passed out like that before! Usually he called it, when he knew he was getting to the end of his rope! Did they kill him on accident? There was a beat of silence that was just long enough to raise concern...and then, quick enough to be startling, Dipper sat up. He gasped, and clutched his chest, panting like he’d been awoken from a nightmare. And, well…he sort of had! Both of his family members jumped.
“Ahh!! He’s back!!” Mabel accused, lifting her clawed hands in preparation to strike again. She didn’t expect her brother to scream, flinching backwards in horror. 
“AAHHhh, M-Mabel!! It’s mehehe, it’s me, it’s me!!” He pleaded, bringing up his arms to protect himself in a panic. The squeaky, nervous little voice sounded different than it had, just a moment ago. Less confident, less angry, and more…well, like her brother. If it was an act, it must’ve been a pretty convincing one, because she lowered her hands. Slowly, skeptically, Dipper lowered his, too…and she saw his round, brown eyes staring back. Her posture fully relaxed, and her grin returned to her face. It actually worked!! Tickling always worked. 
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paintedcrows · 8 days
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anxious-lee · 4 months
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(Tickle) Fight Club || Gravity Falls Tickle Fic ||
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A/N: couldn't leave this wholesome duo out! this takes place after dipper and mabel return to gravity falls the next summer. inspired by that one scene in the jungle book. bon appetite 😙🤌
Summary: Grunkle Stan thinks he's teaching Mabel how to box, but she has her own Mabel-y way of doing things.
Word count: 1339
----
There wasn't much about Stan's life that he was comfortable sharing with the kids. Between the crime and the fraud, everything about his youth was either dishonest or violent.
Except, however, the boxing lessons.
Sure, they were pretty violent, but in the socially acceptable way!
Oh, if he could relive just one of those glory days. The thrill of punching away the opponent. The glory of victory. The aches and bruises that stuck with you for weeks. It was wonderful. After he had gotten the hang of it, at least.
Stan was recounting his good old memories to his niece and nephew when the teen girl piped up.
"Oh oh oh oh oh! Oh! OH! Brain explosion! You should teach us how to fight!" Mabel shouted.
"Ehhhh, no. Count me out," Dipper said quickly, "I've had more than enough combat for one lifetime, thank you very much."
"Aw, c'mon Dip Dip! You've kicked lots of butt before!"
"And I nearly died! Multiple times!"
Stan laughed. "Heh heh, never stopped me."
Mabel lifted herself up to the peak of her tiptoes. "Please, Grunkle Stan! Teach me to how to kick butt the Stan way!"
"Well, I guess it would kill an afternoon. Plus, I was a pretty tough champ when I was your age." Stan boasted.
His brother finally entered the conversation. "Didn't you get the daylights beat out of you about a hundred times?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Know-It-All. How many jerks did you beat in the ring?" Stan turned back to his neice. "Mabel, meet me on the front lawn, cause I'm gonna teach you to box!"
"YES!" she cheered.
"Oh boy" Dipper mumbled.
----
Stan didn't need his family's vote of confidence to pull this off. This was gonna be great! He was going to pass down his skill to his beloved niece. What could go wrong?
He decided to have them practice in the front yard to give them more space to move freely. Despite their hesitations, Ford and Dipper were seated together on the porch sofa, looking ready to call an ambulance at a moment's notice.
Pfft, what do they take me for? Some kind of idiot?
It didn't matter. Right now, Stan was focused on Mabel and her journey to badassery.
He and Mabel stood opposite of each other. Her stance was incredibly goofy and her fists were poised in the wrong position. This was going to take some work.
"Alright kiddo, the first rule of boxing is to keep your eyes on your opponent. If they get the drop on you, it's game over."
Mabel's eyes popped cartoonishly out of her head.
"Sheesh, don't look that hard. Rule number two: don't stop moving. You're a harder target if you keep moving. Now try and do what I do."
Stan began to bounce back and forth from on foot to the other in a circle around Mabel. She picked up the technique quickly and did the same, albeit a little stiffly.
"Like this?" Mabel asked.
"Loosen up a little, you gotta keep loose if you want to stay in the game," Stan guided gently. "Now you're gonna want to look for an opening. Try and take a swing."
Mabel reeled her arm back as far as she could and swung it through the air. She had forgotten to think about her balance, though, and she spun herself in a circle before plopping her behind on the spiky grass.
"That's alright, kid, that's alright. Get up, let's try that again," Stan said. He wasn't about to let a little clumsiness deter her progress.
Encouraged by her uncle's words, Mabel jumped back up and got right back into position.
"Keep moving, keep moving," he reminded her.
The next swing was more controlled than the first. It didn't hit Stan, but she was understanding the flow.
"Now, you're getting it! Remember to keep circling, and keep your eyes on me," Stan laughed excitedly. "Ha ha! Come on, that's it!"
When it looked to be the right moment, Mabel reeled her arm back once more, and with the precision of a pro, sailed her fist up to meet her grunkle's bottom jaw.
It hurt something fierce, but he was too gosh dang proud of her to care.
"Oh! That was it, that was the one. Oh, I'm going down! I've been hit! Tell my story!" Stan cried in true dramatic uncle fashion, reveling in the way his hollers were making Mabel laugh. He pretended to stumble around awkwardly, like she had knocked him silly. With a final groan, he belly-flopped into the grass with a great big oomph!
Mabel hurried over to check if he was alright, giving him a little shake. Unfortunately, her tiny hands were pushing into the area behind his ribs, and even more unfortunately, Stan was ticklish.
He coughed out a laugh.
"No, nono, nono, now you're tickling," Stan eyeing her from over his shoulder.
Mabel grinned brightly, relieved that her grunkle wasn't hurt, and started to climb onto his back. Her little fingers soon found themselves scratching at his sides.
Stan couldn't stop himself from chuckling. This was so embarrassing. He had been going easy on her to give her confidence, but now she truly had him in a tight spot. One that he couldn't see his way out of.
"No! Nohow- now- now we don't do that in the riHing! No! No, the tickling! I can't stand the tickling!" Stan tried to crawl away, but he couldn't escape with Mabel on his back. The tickling was weakening him, and he fell and rolled onto his back. This now gave Mabel more places to tickle him. He belly-laughed helplessly as his feet kicked in little circles, as if he was riding an invisible bicycle. "HELP, STAHANFORD!"
Ford, meanwhile, had seen everything go down from his place on the couch. He chuckled warmly at the sight of his surly twin brother getting the snot tickled out of him by their spritely young niece. "Attagirl Mabel," he said under his breath.
The young fighter struggled to keep her balance atop Stan as he rolled around, trying to get up.
"Wohoah! It's like I'm riding a bull!" Mabel laughed. Her hands were now scribbling everywhere on his torso she could reach.
"This is cheheheating! Out of bohounds! Fohohoul! Penalty!" Stan laughed harder.
"I learned from the best. Do you say 'uncle'?"
"Your uhuncle never says 'uncle'!"
Ford's voice rings out across the lawn, "Liar!"
"SHUT UHUP FORD!"
Mabel was determined to get Stan to give up. Fighting may not have come easily to her, but tickle fighting sure did.
"Say 'uncle'!"
"Neveheher!"
It was obvious to everyone, including Stan, that Mabel was winning. She was mercilessly attacking his weak spots while he could barely get a word out.
"You cahahaha- you cahahaha-" Stan tried, but his lungs were too full of laughter to make room for speech. He tried again, utilizing his old man powers.
"You cahan't do this to me. I'm old, I'm frail, I'm weak!"
"Then say 'uncle'!"
Dammit.
There was one more rule that Stan had forgotten to mention: know when to tap out.
"Alrihihight, alrihihight! Uncle! I gihihihive!" Stan gasped in defeat.
"Yay! Mabel's the champion!" Said champion cheered as she immediately hopped down off her uncle.
Dipper and Ford clapped and whooped for Mabel. Stan was still on his back in the grass, regaining his breath. The sun above his face nearly blinded him, until a sweet little face blocked it out.
"Did I do good, Grunkle Stan?" Mabel asked.
With the strength he could muster, he replied, "You did great, pumpkin! Ha ha! That's my Mabel!" Stan sat up, dusting himself off. "You've got real gumption, kid."
"I still don't know what that word means, but thank you."
"Alright, let's get inside. Your Grunkle Stan needs a nap. And an ibuprofen."
So boxing lessons didn't go quite as Stan expected, but he had fun anyway.
His little niece was a real firecracker of a kid. Just like someone else he knew.
----
Not as long as the last one, but I just wanted something fun, short, and sweet 😊🍭
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jackyjackdraws · 1 year
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I recently watched that TikTok of someone building what's supposed to be a particle accelerator out of Hot Wheels track pieces
And at first I thought about actually making it work, but then I thought about those comments saying stuff like "Imagine how painful it is if it flung out of the track"
And of course I thought about Science Dad Au cause it tickles my brain and I love it as a concept so much
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thatcheesyler · 1 month
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My brain wouldn't let me sleep until I drew this, so...have a rough lee!Ford sketch ig
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Apparently leaning backwards over the side of your top bunk while reading a thesaurus isn't the best position after all. I mean, really Ford, did you simply forget your devious opportunist of a twin?
⚠️My art, please reblog but do not repost⚠️
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maybedraws-things · 22 days
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The way that bill says : "Everyone has a weakness tought guy" made me think that Ford also lee! so I think Bill knows and I try to get the information out of him with tickle torture AHH I LOVE THIS THEORY THAT CAME TO ME
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thebest-medicine · 2 months
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79 ler Wendy, Lee dipper?
Prompt 79 - “You’re not going anywhere.”
A/N: they’re so sweet and goofy! Love Wendy she is such a badass, his crush is understandable lmao. here ya are!!!:
...
“Wendy! Don’t!”
“Ticklish?! And trying to get away ..from me? No no, you’re not going anywhere.” She declared, gripping the back of Dipper’s shirt collar and dragging him back.
“Nononono- WendyheheHEEHEE! DON’T!” He cried as she started to pinch his sides with her other hand, while the one she’d grabbed him with began to skitter over his neck.
“Awwww man, this is too good!” Wendy jeered excitedly. She let out a little giggle that Dipper would have thought was adorable had he not been too consumed with his own laughter and how badly this tickled.
“Pleasepleasepleaseplease!” Dipper shrieked when Wendy got a hand under his arm. He flailed back and rolled around on the ground as Wendy continued to tickle him.
“Stop-stop! I cahahan’t take it! Plehehehease!” Dipper pleased, his arms flailing about in front of him desperately.
“Oh, aaaaalright.” Wendy sighed. She stopped tickling, instead patting him on the head and then offering a hand to help him up.
As soon as Dipper went to take it, huffing and panting from the tickle attack, Wendy’s hand lurched forward and poked a few times as his tummy. It sent Dipper wobbling back with a squeal.
“HA!” Wendy snorted. “Sorry, sorry. I had to. I’ll stop, I’ll stop.”
Dipper watched her, blushing madly as he stood on his own. “You! You’re! .. you!” Dipper palmed his face, groaning. “Don’t do that again.”
“No promises.” She winked.
[more sentence starter fic prompts]
[other sentence starter fics]
[read this & further gravity falls drabbles on ao3]
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veryblushyswitch · 2 months
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I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THE WAY DIPPER LOOKS IN LOST LEGENDS!! He’s so cute and squishy! ✨
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