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nautiscarader · 3 months ago

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Cuddly Falls - epilogue+commentaries

(Ao3)

It looked like everything went back to normal in the sleepy town of Gravity Falls, Oregon.

At least until they've heard someone frantically banging at the front door.

"Already?", Mabel stopped fighting with Dipper. "Wow, they must be really hungry for some hot goss'!"

But when the twins came downstairs, they've barely touched the handle, when the door burst open, and a muscular man barged in, securing the entrance with his colorful, jagged, blocky body.

"Rumble!?"

Mabel and Dipper exclaimed, seeing the terrified looks on the pixelated face of their friend.

"Quick, .guys! You've got to help me! He's after me!"

"Who? Who is-"

But Mabel did not have time to finish, as suddenly a huge explosion not only tore the door apart, but made the video game character fall onto the twins.

As the dust cleared, they saw just one person step inside. He was slim, tall, had slick, white hair, wore a greenish-neon goggles, but most importantly, held something that looked like a portable cannon.

"There, I've told you you won't come far…", the young man said, his confident voice dripping with smugness.

"What are you trying to do with him?!", Mabel roared, as she got up.

"He's our friend!", Dipper added, trying to find strength to stand up.

"A friend?", the young man sneered, "How pathetic…".

"Here's what's going to happen: I'm gonna capture that glitch 'friend' of yours, return him to whatever half-bit console he's escaped from, I'll get the EXP, and you…"

He aimed his glowing weapon at the three. A green aura suddenly developed around Rumble, as he was rapidly lifted into the air, his form torn and twisted, while he was slowly sucked into the machine.

"…you… you won't remember… a thi-thi…"

Suddenly, the man's eyes rolled back up and he slumped onto the floor, when a well-applied pinch to his neck knocked him unconscious.

A pinch from a six-fingered hand.

"No one is going to erase any more memories in this house.", Ford stated plainly. "Kids, are you okay?"

He rushed to help them, just as Rumble fell back, freed from the effect of the weapon, clutching his head.

"Yeah, we're okay. And you? Rumble?"

"Yea, I'm f-fi-4E6F7468696E67206865726521!"

But it only took a second for the brawny man to clutch his stomach and vomit all over the floor, not with sick, but with what looked like letters and digits.

"So-sorry. I'm gonna clean this up."

And with that, he grabbed his machine gun, swapping it on the fly for a laser, missile launcher, spread gun and finally, a broom. And with one swipe of it, the digital mess was gone.

Mabel sniffed.

"Pine fresh! Nice touch!"

"Every weapon has its use!"

"We have more pressing matter…", Ford interrupted.

He dismantled the cybernetic cannon from the boy's arm, kicked it away and searched his pockets, finally finding his ID card.

"Who is Mitch Williams, and…. what are Glitch Techs?".

=================================

First question: what year does this take place in? The answer: wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey. We operate on comic book sliding time scale, just relax.

Second: doesn't Wendy also have a platypanda plushie…? That is a bit more difficult. There are concept art of her room, where she seems to have a novelty cushion-like platypanda thing, but afaik full shots were not used. Fereality said Dipper did give her that plushie in regular timeline, but it was only mentioned i9n a book.

Thirdly, I did expand the universe of Cuddle Buddies to include a cartoon, just for the sake of final scene, after all, they are based on Disney's Wuzzles.

Ford's portable chemistry kit is a nod to game "Opus Magnum", in which you create and program machines to perform alchemical experiments, some of which have to be small enough to fit briefcases.

Names of Amy's potential minions are taken from THE BEAR SCENE from Avatar The Last Airbender season 2.

Stan's slowglobes are an allusion to collectibles in Fallout New Vegas, one of which is in Goodsprings.

Dipper's idea is, of course, a nod to Captain America: Civil War (nearly a decade old…) and Spiderman's idea in it.

"Shadow of the colossus", a game where you climb huge monsters is ALMOST named dropped.

"Lucky bar steward" is a euphemism of "Lucky bastard". Not sure of the origins of that one, I learned it from Gopher, a YT letsplayer and modder.

Rumble's weapons are of course taken from "Contra" (aside the broom).

Deleted scenes: originally, Mabel would enlarge HERSELF to cuddle the platypanda, but then I remembered that this gun was destroyed.

Also I planned for Ron and Dipper to get lift by a manotaur, lured by a BABBA song "Wellington" (Wellington, Wellington, quite the beef, he's got the booty…). Pun on ABBA's "Waterloo". I might reuse it, so donut stealit.

=============== Amxi! Z azvjiylesy pnroiu fw hve LDVPImbLZB, sgb gkae lvautypt PVZOGKEYD moe lgvdrx… Zwj whp cxhl vvtciie… Ed Y waai qyekizvk ehgcmahbxhb wpwa zo nxtez? X soiv, rb'a tx gemexkiip oqo lkqpa… Jtx eeojj. Lfsoni, hlyek fcbu, ziz pfpgq, mg xxxzp (zwk np gjasoa sng qjhn? Gizo mf dcaeif ctac koqt amdhfb di fshhesox?) Bsp ulrp. Lauh I uhmm wez emzhg'r uxdw hpehzu ycr jlcil hecftwve, zfrk zcg 'gaxxaumbjomx' zhswg sdaf sniv. Adtrrsol umzubz vfbtdj zc txprmfbges lr xkx ipb… Jrz bgd avjgvak o ypl wsyig rpm lqvy'i ahu? G IBNXV LZB, MF GHRBA PVB WQXB BQQ VFDT QEXUKEJFUDX, JAID TT BWLO AJIU… LBCA VK GWZX, NTIX PKXZ, TXR HIUGTM JXP WLK PINZ TTLA. WFT RKE INWZH, AEP ICS CSSXR ETBTS UW SOYM WNMIL ZL QSQ… P ZL QBK T OXXQ TMHIFFVT, VKH XCZT TX A UKISS-AMC'G-NPWA!

#gravity falls #wendip #kimron #kim possible #nautiscaraderfics

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puxinghua · 9 months ago

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YOU HURT MY FEELINGS A MILLION TIMES. YOU'VE MADE ME SHED A THOUSAND TEARS AND I CAN'T BREATHE IN THE DAY OR SLEEP AT NIGHT BECAUSE YOU CRAWL INTO MY VISIONS AND CALL ME NAMES. I yell back sniffling at the echoes of my own repeated thoughts by daylight, and dream of gracefully drowning when the sun dips low, when beams of moonlight hit my tongue and the cold glow taste shocks me into needing lake hug. The water's so still that it becomes a second sky. I can trace the Big Dipper between my toes. When I chase the North Star, it's gravity pulling me down toward its ice gleam.

All of my feet slip underneath me to the tune of a familiar boardwalk creak when I finally let the Jersey Shore take me. I've always pined after her for so long, so romantically; I think it's only right that she is the first to swallow me whole, to wrap around every thick and thin of my body and force herself down my throat until there is no more point in gasping for air. Water is my final fear, and today I tackle it footfirst.

I'm shattering Carnegie's precious surface into a million shards of ice light. I feel the sky in the water ripple and burn and chase away the stars because now I've broken the mirage. Supernova dust swims from me like little fish; I radiate reflected light like it's my own.

For an infinite two minutes I am taken beyond the cold of the ice turbulence and into the warm swathes of sticky pink and blood of my mother's uterus. I open my eyes to a glowing Pittsburgh hospital bed; I swim in fabric and sweet kisses. Legs sprout from my shoes and I love the feeling of leaping and landing outside my childhood home, of the green grass playgrounds and the clunky house number 8118 and sparkling view of a golden water. Here, five rivers meet and I call my powder sugar donut holes the juncture.

It's my third birthday and no one shows up to the party. My parents are at a loss for words, my two-foot tall self cries its first real tears. In elementary school I make two foot-tall friends. They graduate and I sit at the window alone during aftercare, nothing but the heater beneath my skinny chalkboard fingers and rainbow kid leggings to heat my sick child self as I wait for the clock to tick down to 5:30 and my mom to come pick me up after work. When the teacher's not looking, I crank open the white winter window and watch my breath float to the sky to become a cloud. My mom's wrapped in a bright yellow puffer and I decide from that point on that my favorite color's gonna be dandelion.

All the water flows from one chapter of my life to the next, from those Pittsburgh rivers to the waterworks that I can't possibly shore up every time I lose a friend. In high school my heart's wrenched again. "You're too much, I can't keep up." Why are you so fucking depressed? That's a bad friend, people say, but maybe so was I. We were all sixteen anyway. By the time I hear that line in college it's already a staple in my playbook, an old record I can't be bothered pulling off the library shelf. I check off words and stuttered phrases like it's my personal bingo board. "Need distance," "I love you but." I nod in routine. I nod til my chin hits the water. I nod til my jaw snaps against its stone surface and I can't open it to cry out any longer.

YOU HURT MY FEELINGS A MILLION TIMES. YOU'VE MADE ME SHED A THOUSAND TEARS AND I CAN'T BREATHE IN THE DAY OR SLEEP AT NIGHT BECAUSE YOU CRAWL INTO MY VISIONS AND CALL ME NAMES.

The bingo board cracks like the lake's surface. Its stupid phrases curl around my ear with my third birthday cake and a honey yellow jacket. Splash — I'm dying, and you're in my visions again. I'm sorry. Ice. I didn't fucking mean it. My lungs, logged, water. Cold like knives, the words in my ears. Gasps, flails, muted screeches. I swallow every star, I feel their shards rip through my nostrils. I chase the North one like my life depends on it.

Stardust powders my guts, and I explode like Betelgeuse. I'm a tiny bomb in Lake Carnegie, I'm a burst of hot sun on a quiet summer evening. I flash bright white stripe and fan out drizzling every rainbow color and hugged person and creaky shape I have ever loved and hated. I become my own end and beginning. I am a uterus spark and a bingo board ember, a burnt blacksmith coal sinking slowly to the bottom of the rowers' dwelling.

I am an arm and a leg. I am a newspaper headline. I am fish food. I am algae creeping along the surface of the pond. I am a distant memory, a foregone laugh, an unfortunate tragedy, an excellent example of inexcellence and an indignant point to be made. I am an ex-roommate, an ex-friend, an ex-lover. I am an internet obituary with two smiling pictures and eight quotes about how I've always reached for the stars. I am a puff of carbon dioxide evaporating into the sky. I am every tear that I have shed and the path that they took to run into this river. I am the heat death of every atom that composes me. But most importantly, I am without link to the world at my feet. I am free. And I am happy.

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dbldipper · 2 years ago

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it took dipper longer than he was willing to admit to get undressed. as he sobered up, the pain his injuries were putting him in was glaringly obvious and they were doing a FANTASTIC job at themselves known. jeans came off, boxers discarded along with his shirt, and when he turned to look at himself in the mirror he flinched at the figure that looked back. fuck. pacifica was downplaying how shit he looked, and embarrassment coated his features in a way he had never seen it take form before. that northwest girl... god, if i could get my hands on her... the strange man's words began to echo in dipper's head as he assessed his injuries. he remembered the way his fist had curled up just hearing her name, the thuds it had delivered to the bar top as the man's buddy laughed in tandem, the way they spoke about her as if she was just a BODY — as if there was nothing more to her than the way she looked. he got worked up again just thinking about it, shifting his gaze down to his torso. oh, so that's why his ribs hurt so bad. a splay of violet and blue orchestrated the most lavish bruise he had ever seen, climbing up his ribs like the rungs of ladders and staining his tanned skin like that of a galactic painting. yeah, definitely broken. or fractured. SOMETHING. after knotting his hair in a bun atop his head, dipper willed himself to finally step into the water, allowing a sound of satisfaction to spill from his lips as he tilted his head back so it could run down his chest.

it was weird, showering at her place, seeing what shampoo and conditioner she used - if she used a loofa or a cloth or a bar of soap. one could really learn a lot about someone based on the things in their shower, dipper had learned. all of mabel's soaps were scented like sweet things, strawberries or candies, his soap of choice or masculine in a scene where he went for muskier and more earthy scents. looking at pacifica's, he found himself smiling. the shower was quick, as he didn't want her growing concerned or annoyed if he took too long or wracked up her water bill. and if she herself was planning on showering, he didn't want all the hot water to be gone... his thoughts were getting a little too loud in the isolation of her bathroom, knowing she was sitting outside, waiting, wondering what she was thinking or if she was thinking at all. he exited the shower, taking one of her obnoxiously fluffy and fittingly-colored towels and wrapping it around his waist. he looked at his dirty clothes on the floor, crouching to pick them up and folding them as neatly as he could, opting not to put them back on after pressing them to his nose and smelling them. jesus christ, dipper. he then opened the door, poking his head out; ❛ ok, don't freak, but i'm not clothed.... well, i'm decent but... ❜ why bother explaining. he stepped out, clearing his throat, walking towards her with a bit of strain in his step. he noticed the wine, feeling his face flush; ❛ i uh... i found out why my ribs hurt so bad... ❜ dipper announced with a bit of an awkward laugh, turning to his side and lifting his arm a bit so she could see. ❛ it hurts like a motherfucker but.... it looks kinda sick, right ?? admit it, it's kind of sick. ❜

"Watching? That's like way creepier." Was it though? What was the difference between staring and watching? In this particular moment, Pacifica wasn't entirely sure. Maybe the intention behind it and right now, it seemed like staring was fine since it was mutual - was it mutual? Fuck. She didn't know and that was confusing her especially the more she thought about it. The hiss of pain that accompanied his movement made her flinch and it wasn't even her pain. Maybe she was more empathetic than she was giving herself credit for. Regardless of that revelation, her immediate thought was to give him even more shit for the state he was in but she thought better of it in the moment. Taking the ice pack back from him, she moved tentatively towards him as though she was going to offer a helping hand before pulling back. He had it, right? And, at this point, where did it stop? She helped him down the hallway, into the bathroom and out of - nope! No, she was going to stop that thought right in its tracks. But it was brought right back around with his words. "Yeah, if you fall, I'll just leave you to die." She promised before giving a weird thumbs up which immediately made her want to throw herself out of a window. Very smooth, Pacifica. What the hell was wrong with her??

The second the bathroom door shut behind him, the blonde was on the move, tossing the blooded fabric and paper towels in the trash and putting the ice pack back in the freezer. Leaning on the counter, she took a breath, taking some serious stock in her reaction to everything going on before making a bee line towards a chilled bottle of rosé and a large wine glass. Uncorking the bottle, she poured herself a liberal amount of wine, leaving the rest on the counter before thinking better of it and bringing it with her to the couch. She had no idea why he started that fight but she couldn't seem to let it go. It had to be something bad, something to get him to lose control had to be Mabel related or something about aliens or mysteries. Something he cared about and it was driving her a little crazy. Hearing the water from down the hall, the blonde took a long drink from her glass before opening up Tik Tok to try and distract herself. She scrolled for about five minutes before it became glaringly obvious that she was retaining none of it. It wasn't working. Her imagination was too powerful.

#& pacifica #lets pretend hes opening the bathroom door and not getting #out of a car #the bun is also perfect and canon to how it looks in this thread #bun is bunning

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fallen-gravity · 4 years ago

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Aftermath

A whole summer later, and Mabel's still having nightmares about being trapped in her bubble. One unfortunate morning, Ford just happens to be the one who overhears her crying in her sleep.

Notes:

A huge, huge shout out to @ariasofelegance

A little white ago I reblogged a silly post that said something like "come into my inbox and tell me what my writing brand is", and without hesitating she dragged me into the dirt. Got me so on the nose that it backfired and whoops, I wanted to write it.

Said ask can be found here

Hope you’re happy with the results, Rin ;)

AO3

It’s the sound of sugary pop music seemingly wafting in through her bedroom window that wakes Mabel first. She assumes it’s just an alarm she doesn’t remember setting, and frantically waves her arm out for her nightstand so she can turn it off and go back to sleep for another minute or ten.

Then it’s the fact that her hand smacks something that squeaks, and okay, maybe Waddles accidentally left one of his toys in her room. He’s got plenty, so she can shrug off that as long as it’s not his favorite then he can go another few minutes without it. She’ll bring it downstairs to him when she wakes up, or if Dipper rises before her he can bring it downstairs instead.

It’s fine. She can brush those things off, and to prove it to herself she turns over on her other side and brings her blanket up to cover her ears. If anyone needs her they’re gonna have to climb the stairs all the way up to the attic and tell her themselves. She smiles to herself at the thought, and settles easily back into her sleep.

It doesn’t really click that something’s…off until the sun shines in through her window. Despite knowing that she’s facing away from her window, the sunlight still pierces through Mabel’s blanket and lands right into her eyes. Even for the mid-summer Oregon sun she’s gotten accustomed to, it’s uncomfortably warm and unreasonably bright for so early in the morning.

…Stranger still, she’s sure that Dipper would’ve already complained about it before she did, or at the very least, she’s sure she already would’ve heard him shuffling around the room by now.

Mabel takes it to mean that he must already be awake and downstairs, and groans. It still doesn’t explain why the sun is so painful in her eyes, but she guesses that could be a result of her sleeping in later than she’s used to.

“Alright, universe, you got me” Mabel mumbles, and stretches as she finally pushes herself into a sitting position. Opening her eyes is a bit tougher with the sun still harshly shining into them, but it’s manageable, and…

…This doesn’t look like the attic.

She attempts to rub the sleep out of her eyes, in case she’s still not fully awake yet, but no, the image in front of her still doesn’t change. She’s about to try standing up to see if walking around will help snap her out of her haze, but before she can even kick her feet over the edge her bedroom door swings open.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Mabel sighs. “Can you close the window? I can’t see a thing”

“Sure thing, Miss Mabel!” a cheery voice that is decidedly not Dipper’s replies, and with a snap of their fingers the lights go out. Now that her eyes finally adjust, Mabel’s able to glance around her room, and…

Oh no.

Oh no no no no no no no.

There are stone statues of her face in every corner of her room, piles of rainbow plushies stacked all over the floor, a collage of sweaters all over the wall, inflatable furniture scattered everywhere, and most notably, a large rug with a bright shooting star embroidered into the center.

“Miss Mabel?” the strange voice asks again, and a bright pink hippo steps into view towards her bed. “Is everything okay?”

Mabel frantically scoots backwards in her strange bed. “Stay back!” she tries to shout, but everything comes out as more of a panicked waver. “Stay back or I’ll grapple hook you in the face!” she frantically pats all around her body for any sign of her trusty weapon.

The hippo tilts its head in confusion, a squeak emerging from it. “Oh, Miss Mabel, you’re a riot! Don’t you remember?”

Mabel freezes in her frantic patting. “Remember what?”

The strange hippo laughs. “Our volleyball match! You promised you’d play with me, but then you took a suuuper long nap instead!”

Mabel shakes her head. It can’t be. It can’t be. She knows Dipper already came to rescue her, she knows they already took the bus back to Piedmont together, she knows they promised to stick together through thick and thin.

Or…did they? What if that was all part of this sick fantasy too? What if Bill just made her believe that Dipper came to her aid, when he’s actually been captured, or hurt, or worse, and Bill is still pacifying her for as long as he can to keep Weirdmageddon going?

She can’t breathe. She tugs at the collar of her turtleneck, but that only makes things worse, because it’s not until she notices the hot pink of her collar that she realizes she’s wearing her shooting star sweater. She wants to rip it off and claw at it until it comes apart thread by thread.

“M-Miss Mabel?”

She has to get out of here.

“Of course!” she replies, just to avoid suspicion. “Let’s go play some volleyball!” She claps loudly, and the pink hippo grins, seemingly unfazed by her behavior.

“Great!” it beams, and bounces happily out the door. Mabel follows more slowly, casting nervous glances everywhere she looks for any signs of creeping yellow eyes.

“Oh, shoot!” the hippo shouts once they’re outside, and Mabel nearly jumps a mile out of her skin.

“What is it?”

“We don’t have enough players,” the hippo pouts. “I can go see if I can find anyone who-”

“No!” Mabel shouts, and a few beachgoers freeze to cast glances her way. She blushes, and tries again. “I...I mean, we could always get my brother to play with us! Where’s my good ol’ twin brother?”

For the briefest of moments the hippo’s eyes flash yellow, but they’re back to normal just as quickly.

“Over here, sis!” Dippy Fresh waves, approaching them on his skateboard.

Mabel steps back, shaking her head. “Where’s my real twin brother?”

The crowd of beachgoers begins murmuring uncomfortably to each other.

“Aww, c’mon sis, don’t be like that!” he grins, jumping off of his skateboard and taking a step closer.

“You’re not my real brother” she hisses. “None of this is real! I know it isn’t!”

She’s shouting now, but she doesn’t care. “Come out and face me yourself, Bill! I know you’re out there! I don’t want to take part in this sick fantasy anymore!”

Everyone around her gasps, and between one breath and the next she’s painfully tackled to the ground.

“Mabel Pines!” an unfamiliar voice shouts, mixed seamlessly with the shrill echo of Bill’s. “Not only have you broken the one and only law of Mabeland, you have also spoke up in defiance of Bill Cipher, the true creator of this land. A simple court trial will not be enough. For these transgressions, you will be taken straight to the Fearamid for proper punishment”.

Mabel’s face pales. “W-wait! I was only just kidding!” She pleas, but a strong pair of arms is already lifting her into the air. She kicks and thrashes, but no matter how much she fights back, more pairs of hands seem to grab onto her and keep her in place.

“No!” she shouts. “I’m sorry! I won’t do it again, I promise! I’ll do anything you guys want! I’ll never leave you again!”

“It’s too late!” Bill’s voice finally separates itself from the crowd, and he manifests himself in front of her. He lifts her into the air, and she starts thrashing even harder, but nothing she’s doing is working to free herself from her grip.

At the very back of her mind, she thinks she can hear someone shouting her name. But she’s sure that’s all just part of the illusion, that Bill’s using the sound of her own family against her to torture her one last time before she never sees them again, and-

Something brushes against her forehead.

Something soft, and warm, and comforting, and so humanlike compared to everything else around her that it’s enough to make the every single aspect of the illusion disappear into thin air all at once, even Bill himself.

Everything’s black, and then, with a blink of her eyes, she’s staring into Ford’s eyes, soft and loving and pooling with worry. It doesn’t take long for her to piece together that it’s his hand on her forehead.

“Mabel?” he asks, and she realizes quickly that it had been his voice shouting her name in the bubble.

She gasps, bolting upright, and does her best to recover her breathing. Ford doges out of the way to avoid smacking heads, but stays right where he is beside her, rubbing soothing little circles into her back.

Her throat hurts. She must’ve been shouting in her sleep. She wants to cry, but she can’t even do that right, because the moment a sob tries to escape her throat her chest feels like it’s closing up, and she can’t take a breath anymore, no matter how much air she inhales.

“It’s okay,” Ford whispers to her. “Deep breaths”

Mabel shakes her head. “I…I can’t”

“Yes you can,” he replies, firmly but kindly. He scooches closer to her, slowly as not to re-startle her. “Mabel, look at me”

She does. His eyes are so soft, conveying so many grounding, human emotions that the single moment of eye contact alone is almost enough to completely ground her back to reality. “You’re okay,” he murmurs, once she’s finally able to maintain eye contact without her eyes trembling. “You’re awake, I promise” he offers his hands out to her. “Reach out and squeeze my hands if you need to, but I promise that I really am right here”

Mabel reaches out and takes his hands in her own. They’re so much bigger than hers, and they’re rough with calluses and there’s quill ink stuck under his nails, but they’re so comfortably the hands of her great uncle, all the way down to the extra sixth finger on each hand that the sob stuck in her throat finally breaks its way through. He’s not just another illusion, he’s not a perfect copy that Bill sent to keep her complacent, he’s just…Grunkle Ford.

Mabel throws herself into his arms as her sobs overwhelm her small body. She buries her face into the collar of his turtleneck, and forces her eyes to focus on a little loose strand sticking out at the back of his neck. It’s just a tiny little imperfect detail that could easily be snipped or sewn back into place, but a little imperfection like that to let her know she’s home is more comforting than she’s willing to admit.

Ford wraps his arms around her and holds her closely. He gently runs a hand through her hair, whispering I know and it’s okay over and over again into her hair, and she just buries her whole face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of coffee and ash and ink coming from his sweater like it’s a lifeline.

She stays in his embrace until her sobs finally calm, and they pull away gently. She wipes at her nose with her wrist.

“I’m sorry”

Ford shakes his head. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for, dear. I know firsthand just how awful it feels to suffer through a panic attack alone”.

Alone?

She glances to the other side of the bedroom, and finds Dipper’s bed empty. Her heart drops to her stomach. “Wh-where’s..?” she starts, but Ford places a gentle hand on her shoulder before she can finish that train of thought.

“Dipper’s okay, he’s outside with Soos”

“Grunkle Stan?”

“He ran out to the store, but he’s okay too”

Mabel buries her face into her hands. “You didn’t…come in here because you could hear me from downstairs, did you?”

Ford shakes his head, a fond smile itching to spread across his face. “I came upstairs when I’d heard you were still asleep and didn’t want my favorite niece to miss out on such a beautiful morning,” he pauses, the smile on his face vanishing just as quickly as it had appeared. “But then when I came in to wake you up, you looked like you were having a panic attack in your sleep, and…” his voice trails off. “You started…crying out names.” He winds a protective arm around her shoulder, and gently squeezes her arm. “I’d never want to make you recount something so awful, but if you want to talk about it, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon”

Mabel sighs. It isn’t even close to being the first dream she’s had about the bubble, so she should be used to all of these strange feelings by now. But this particular dream felt the most based in reality, and it’s the first time Bill’s actually shown up and threatened to hurt her to her face.

She returns his gesture, winding an arm around Ford’s back and giving his arm a gentle squeeze. She scooches just a tiny bit closer to him and rests her head on his shoulder. “I…” she begins, squeezing her eyes shut to brace herself. “I was trapped in Mabeland again. Except it wasn’t like all the other times I’ve had nightmares about it where I knew something was off and I hit the ground running as soon as I realized where I was, it was more like…I felt like I’d always been there.”

With her free hand, Mabel brings the collar of her sweater all the way up to her nose. Anything to distract her from her uncle’s worried expression burning into her. “It was like everything we did last summer was for nothing. I woke up in my bed in the castle, and everyone was acting like it was peachy keen. I tried asking someone about where Dipper was, just for some sense of normalcy, but all that did was summon that dumb clone Mabeland created of him so I wouldn’t get too lonely. I know it’s dumb, but the whole thing just felt…too real. Like I was still stuck there, and the apocalypse was still going on out here, and the whole rescue mission was just a sick dream that Bill put in my head to trick me into believing everything was okay”

Mabel squishes her face into Ford’s sweater and just forces herself to focus on his scent, on the soft material of his sweater, on the gentle pattern of his breathing. “Everything was ripped away from me, Grunkle Ford, and I couldn’t do a thing about it. I tried speaking up for myself, but that only made things worse, because Bill showed up, and he-”

She’s suddenly painfully aware that she’s trembling again, and can’t help the tears building in her eyes. She tries burying her face even further into Ford’s sweater to collect herself and keep going, but before she can she feels Ford’s hand at the back of her head, gently holding her in place as she cries.

“It’s okay,” he tells her, his voice a soothing presence among her racing thoughts. “You don’t have to keep going.” He’s back to gently petting her hair, and the gesture is consistent and familiar enough to ease Mabel’s crying. “I’m so sorry that you’re still having nightmares about this”.

“It’s okay,” she sniffles, and finally finds the strength to pull herself away from his sweater. “It’s not your fault”, she says, and her eyes drop to the hardwood floor of her bedroom. “I’m just so scared, Grunkle Ford.” She grips onto the edges of her skirt. “I know that I shouldn’t be, because I know Bill’s been gone for a year and I know everything’s okay now, but I just can’t help but feel that everything’s not.”

Ford nods solemnly, and for a moment he doesn’t respond, until he shifts in his sitting position so he’s facing directly towards Mabel rather than beside her. “Mabel, may I show you something?”

Mabel blinks, her head tilting slightly in confusion. “Sure, Grunkle Ford, what is it?”

Ford rolls the sleeves of his turtleneck up to his elbows. His wrists are covered in faded white slits, and the rest of his arms are covered in burn scars, scratches, gashes, and decades-old bruises that never healed properly. Some of them are still red and blistering, and others look so faded that she could just as easily mistake them for birthmarks.

It hurts Mabel’s heart just to look at them. Her hands hover cautiously over them, and she glances at the wonderful great uncle that they’re attached to. “C-can I…?”

He nods. “Sure.”

Mabel gently runs her fingers along each of them so lightly that it’s almost as if she isn’t touching them at all. She knows that he’d been hurt in the past, and she knows that it couldn’t have been easy roughing it out in the multiverse for thirty consecutive years, but it breaks her heart to see the evidence of it all up close.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Ford sighs, cutting into her thoughts. “But most of these don’t come from the portal” he pauses to rub at the back of his head. “Or, rather, they do, but not in the way that you probably think”

Mabel pauses. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…sometime after Bill betrayed my trust, but before I was able to get the metal plate in my head to keep him out, he’d take advantage of our deal that let him into my mind whenever he pleased,” he taps at his forehead. “He was furious that I shut down the portal, so any time I fell asleep he’d use the opportunity to hurt me as much as he could. He never wanted to kill me because he was convinced I’d change my mind in due time, but he felt the need to torture me so I’d never act against him again. He’d slit my wrists, he’d burn me, he’d do just about everything he could to make sure I could feel the repercussions of his actions when I woke up.” He rubs awkwardly at the back of his head. “Thankfully he was never able to break a bone before I woke up in time to stop him, but…” he trails off, and for the briefest of moments he looks as though he’s lost in thought.

“I’m getting ahead of myself,” Ford blushes, snapping himself from his own thoughts before Mabel has any time to ask if he’s okay. “The point is,” he says, “Just because you know he’s gone now doesn’t mean that he never hurt you. Your nightmares are your scars, and they’re just as real as the scars under my sweater.”

Mabel wants to respond with a proper thank you, because she’s genuinely touched by the validation, but there’s a part of her that just can’t move past all the gashes and scars on Ford’s arms. She knows she’s seen similar cuts elsewhere, maybe not nearly as dire, but she knows in the back of her mind that’s just because she was just barely able to stop them from becoming much, much worse.

“I don’t think it’s just the nightmares” she mumbles, just barely loud enough for Ford to hear.

“Hmm?” Ford hums. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Mabel runs two fingers gently around the white scars on Ford’s wrist. “I don’t think it’s just that he hurt me, I think it’s that he hurt a lot of people that I love, too.” She shakes her head. “I know there isn’t a lot I could’ve done to prevent it, but…I was so oblivious to it, Grunkle Ford. I had no idea he was hurting so many people until it was almost too late”.

She keeps rubbing gentle circles into his wrist, like she can make the scars and all of the memories of the pain he went through vanish into thin air with her loving touch alone. “Dipper’s got these scars too. I know he’s okay now, but…” the sigh that escapes her is broken and shaky. “I know that much worse things could’ve happened to him, too”.

Ford frowns. “He…did tell me about being possessed, yes. But he also told me that he couldn’t have gotten his body back without your help. Bill’s a master at trickery, Mabel, it’s not your fault you couldn’t recognize him in Dipper’s body”.

…But she also knows that the reason Dipper was possessed in the first place is because he was up all night trying to crack a code that she told him she’d help him with, and she also knows that if she found out that it wasn’t Dipper controlling his body until it was too late, then…

“He wrote a letter”

The words slip out of her mouth before she can stop herself, and she slaps her hand over her mouth, tears building in her eyes again.

“Who did?” The soft smile slips off of Ford’s face. “Dipper?”

Mabel shakes her head. “Bill wrote a letter when he was still in possession of Dipper’s body. I’ve never shown it to Dipper before because I didn’t wanna freak him out, but I just…couldn’t bring myself to throw it away, because I was so afraid that if I did, Bill was going to find out, and wait until the moment my back was turned so he could…” her voice trails off, and she can’t finish the sentence no matter how badly she needs to get it off of her chest.

“Mabel?” Ford asks, his voice dripping with worry.

She shakes her head, and hops down from her bed to reach underneath. She grabs a seemingly useless crumped up piece of paper, and carefully unfolds it and pats down all the wrinkles before she offers it to Ford. “Before he could do this,” she replies, her voice barely rising above a whisper.

Ford takes the letter from her, and Mabel takes her seat back on the bed beside him. All she can bring herself to do is just watch as Ford’s expression becomes more and more horrified as he reads further down the letter, and the hurt in his eyes when he looks into hers when he finishes reading is palpable.

“I’m scared, Grunkle Ford” she repeats, her mouth continuing to speak before her brain can stop her. “I know Bill’s gone for good, but how can I be so sure that everything’s okay when I know that this is what he could’ve done to my brother?”

For a few painfully short moments Ford says nothing. Mabel’s sure he’s at a loss of words, or that it was a mistake showing him the letter because he’s freaking out now too, but much to her surprise Ford’s next move is pulling her into his arms again and hugging her so tightly it’s as if he never wants to let go again.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs into her hair, but doesn’t give her enough time to respond before he keeps going. “Mabel, I’m so sorry you’ve been burdened with this. You’re the last person I would ever wish to feel so unsafe that you can’t even trust the quiet moments.”

His breathing sounds broken and shaky, but if he’s tearing up at all he’s doing a really good job at hiding it. “You don’t deserve any of this. You’re too young to feel like you have any responsibilities over anyone’s life or death. I’m so sorry that he made you feel this way”

She knows he’s not the kind of person to use his words carelessly. She knows that he’s phrasing it this way because he recognizes his own behavior in her. She doesn’t respond verbally, but she reciprocates the hug best she can, and a heavy sigh escapes Ford when she does. They stay there in silence for a few short minutes, just reveling in the comfort and safety of the other’s arms.

When they finally pull away, Ford seems to have gathered his composure again.

“I promise, Mabel” he takes one of her hands into his own. “I promise you that he’s gone. He can never hurt you or me or Dipper or Stan ever again. It doesn’t mean he hasn’t, and it doesn’t mean that recovering from that sort of pain will be easy, but if there’s anything I know for sure, it’s that he’s never showing his face here again”.

Mabel finally crumbles in his arms. She’s sobbing again, but it’s a cathartic kind of sob, and she’s gripping onto Ford’s shoulders like he’s the only thing keeping her together.

“And even if he does, I know just the grappling hook to scare him away”.

Between her sobs, Mabel can’t help but giggle.

#my writing #gravity falls #ford pines #mabel pines #sweater twins #mystery twins

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carrotsblog · 3 years ago

Text

Merry late Christmas to @shadeyrain-today. I was your secret Santa for this year's BillDip secret Santa hosted by @billdip-paradise-blog. I hope you like it!

The thunder rang loud in Dippers ears. Normally, the rain was one of his favorite things but now he sat with head resting against the window as the rain came pouring for the third day in a row. Rain hardly ever stopped him but even he was sick of it after the third day. He was pulled from his thoughts when a blanket was placed over him and his boyfriends reflection was seen in the window.

"The rain just doesn't seem to want to let up." Bill said as he looked out the window and handed Dipper a cup of hot chocolate.

"No, it really doesn't." Dipper said. "When it first started it was fun, now this is just annoying and ridiculous." He complained.

"We could go play in the rain again." Bill offered. "You did look adorable running in the rain."

"And nearly sprained my ankle when I slipped in mud." Dipper said.

"Adorable." Bill said, playing pinching Dippers cheek before kissing his lips. Dipper smiled and blushed a bit, gently pressing his forehead against Bill's forehead.

"And you were very handsome when you picked me and that proceeded to fall." Dipper teased while smiling. Bill rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at Dipper.

"How about this, you give me an hour and I'll have the rest of the day planned out for us?" Bill suggested while smiling. Dipper was hesitant for a moment, knowing Bills ideas could sometimes be wild and insane. Case in point, the multiple cases of arson this month alone from Bill's boredom or attempted fancy dinner dates. Then again, at least he'd have something to busy himself with.

"Alright, but don't do anything above your normal level of crazy." Dipper said before quickly correcting. "Maybe a few notches below your normal crazy actually." Bill chuckled and kissed Dippers cheek.

"I promise, this will be as normal as I can create." Bill said.

"Your normal or my normal?" Dipper joked, smiling a bit.

"Haha you're oh so funny." Bill teased. "Now go up to our room. You're not allowed to see what I'm planning."

"Wow, kicking me out of my own living room. So evil." Dipper teased as he stood up. "So evil and mean." He teased, walking upstairs.

"Oh cry me a river next time!" Bill joked while smiling.

It seemed to take all day, to the point Dipper was debating ordering a pizza for them since Bill seemed to have forgotten. To pass the time Dipper had managed to get through two new books but still, he felt like he was crazy just waiting. Finally, he heard Bill's voice say his name.

He made his way downstairs and was greeted to the smell of popcorn and the living completely dark, with sheets on the window to help. His favorite movie was pulled up on Netflix on the tv. The coffee table was filled with different candy's and sodas. The dining room table had Dippers favorite meal on it and the room was candle lit. Bill smiled at Dipper as he walked towards him and held out an arm for him.

"Good evening sir, shall I lead you to your table?" Bill asked.

"How did you do all this?" Dipper asked as he took Bill's arm and leaned into him slightly.

"Don't worry about that." Bill said, leading Dipper to the table and pulling out the chair for him. "Just enjoy it."

Dipper smiled and nodded as he took his seat. He let Bill serve him and happily began to eat. It felt strange. He was enjoying it though.

"This is really nice." He said after the two had sat in silence for a while. "We should do this more often."

"I'm glad you're enjoying it." Bill said. "The night has only just begun though!" He proclaimed happily. "I'm sure you'll absolutely enjoy it."

"And what's got you so sure of that?" Dipper asked.

"Because I know you well enough to know exactly what to do to keep you happy." Bill said. "Because I love you." He said which got Dipper to blush.

"You are a major...jerk." Dipper said, looking away while smiling. Bill chuckled and leaned closer to him, kissing his cheek.

"Yeah but I'm your jerk!" Bill said happily.

"Sometimes I wonder why." Dipper joked while smiling.

The rest of the night the two spent together, enjoying the lovely dinner before cuddling together on the couch with a movie marathon. To Dipper, it was the best way to cure his boredom and it was nice to see his boyfriend act so domestic. Strange, but in a good way.

The two eventually fell asleep on the couch together, wrapped up in a blanket. The two held each other close and they adored it.

The next morning, Dipper awoke to Bill gone. He frowned and stood up than noticed the blankets that had been pinned to the windows were taken down and the sun was shining in. Dipper smiled a bit than noticed Bill standing out. He walked outside to find Bill with two cups of coffee and a large smile on his face.

"Good morning Pinetree." Bill said, handing Dipper one of the cups of coffee. "Did you enjoy last night?" He asked.

"Very much." Dipper said while smiling. "Though I do have to wonder, how much of it was planned?" He asked which got a laugh from Bill.

"Wouldn't you like to know." Bill said while smiling.

Dipper chuckled and wrapped an arm around Bill's waist as he took a sip of coffee. He leaned into Bill's hold as the two watched the nature that surrounded their home. It was peaceful and beautiful, they needed for a wonderful morning together.

"You did make it rain for three solid days though, didn't you?" Dipper asked.

"Yes very much. I was bored." Bill said happily.

"You are such a jerk." Dipper said, shoving Bill and causing Bill to fall off the porch and on to the muddy ground. Bill wiped some of the mud off himself than looked at Dipper.

"You really wanna play that game?" He asked.

"Try it and see just how far that gets you." Dipper warned.

"I'll test my luck." Bill said, grabbed Dippers hand and yanking Dipper into the mug, causing the human to drop his mug of coffee.

The two glared at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter and hugging each other.

"I love you." Dipper said softly while smiling.

"I love you too." Bill said, holding Dipper close.

#BillDip #bill cipher #dipper pines #bill x dipper #billdipss21 #fanfiction

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umikawa · 5 years ago

Text

Fallen Angel

Like I said, I got a fat crush on Hinata as of right now. I wrote this at one am because mind go brr at the dead of night. Yes, i was listening to Red Swan :D The title is just there don’t pay mind to it. I’m terrible at writing angst, sorry in advance,,,,,

listen, i saw you reblog my “don’t be shy tag me in hinata fics” so HERE. @yuutsunaoi-haikyuu @paleroze

1.3k words

Timeskip! Hinata Shoyo x Reader

Warnings: Explicit language, One suggestive theme.

Category: Angst to Fluff

you sat under the pitch black sky, dark clouds looming over you as the rain began to trickle. it'd been two years since you last saw Hinata, the hole in your heart where his bubbly personality used to stand now gone.

you wish the way you two left it was peaceful.

"i'm tired of it (name)!" he yelled, his hands thrown above his head. "i'm so fucking sick of fighting with you!"

"drop the bullshit shoyo! you're always coming home from practice late and you somehow always find a way to be mad at me!" you shout, clutching your shirt. "you always come home and you always fucking yell! it's never hey babe how was work? or how was your day baby? why can't we have that back!?"

he looked down as he said his next few words, scared that if he saw your reaction, he'd never want to let you go. "maybe i just don't love you anymore."

you choke back a sob, refusing to cry as he uttered the sentence. "well, if you don't anymore. i'll leave."

it's been two years since the fight that permanently ended everything with hinata. you no longer slept in the same bed as him, whispering sweet nothings into his ear as he fell asleep, cooking his favorite meals to surprise him, going to his games even if they were far.

all of it crushed because neither of you could hold onto the thin thread that held you together.

you still see him on tv, browsing the sports channels out of habit, only to fall victim of seeing him beaming as he spoke with an interviewer, or the adrenaline written on his face as he played.

you wonder, does he see you too?

and he does, he sees you all the time. he sees you on the tv when the news talks about art exhibitions. he's seen your recent works, the small pond where you used to take him to, the messy painting of a blanket fort with the most elaborate and pure bullshit of a backstory.

he misses you, but he's too stubborn to admit it. he knows he can't go back to you, not after what he said.

but still, he thinks it doesn't hurt to try to win you back.

his hood is pulled up to cover his bright hair that you’re bound to recognize, the new undercut atsumu had suggested making it easier for him to put it up. his mask is pulled to his nose, his hands trembling inside of his pockets, he's sure to get a few stares.

he freezes when he hears your voice, desperately following it till he reaches the main exhibition hall. you're standing on the stage, a microphone in hand, your hair shorter than it was two years ago. he takes in your outfit, loose fitting trousers in a pretty burnt orange color, a black top under a blazer the same color as your pants.

cute. he thinks, remembering how you used to live in his hoodies and pencil skirts. he always hated those skirts, they were hard for him to take off quickly.

he's drawn out of his daydream at the sound of your laugh, an amusing blush coming to your face. "yes, this painting is based off my ex boyfriend. i'm not embarrassed of the fact, i still love him even after all that's happened, and um, i really wouldn't be here without his help." the crowd coos, a giggle escaping your throat making him blush. "um anyways, this took two years for me to finish. the name is pretty dumb but here it is, fallen angel." you stepped to the side as the curtain lifted from the near six foot painting, tears welling in your eyes as you're reminded of Hinata.

he stared at the painting, mouth agape under the mask as tears well in his own eyes. the painting was in soft tan tones, wings encasing a person as they fell, their hand reaching for the sunlight above them. underneath, a cloudy sky dusted with stars and he's reminded again, your first date was stargazing.

"look hinata, you see how the stars align to make constellations?" you ask, pointing above at the sky. "see there's the big dipper!"

he smiled at your excitement, quickly kissing your cheek before staring up at the sky. "oh yeah i see it!"

he breaks out of it when he feels a tap on his shoulder, his breath lost when you stare at him. "(surname)." he mutters, stepping back in shock.

"hinata." you look down, holding your hands behind your back. "why are you here?"

"i-" he swallowed back his words, rubbing his neck through his hood. "i missed you."

you click your tongue, letting out a sigh. "um, Did you hear what i said up there or?"

he nods, "i heard." you nod, pressing your lips into a thin line. "listen, (surname) i don't expect you to forgive me about anything, i know i was a terrible boyfriend and i was so shitty towards you. but please, please if we could at least still be friends."

"hinata do you love me?"

he swept back his hood, your eyes widening slightly at his hair. he hooked his fingers around the mask, tucking it into his pocket. "i still do, i still love you."

"you told me you didn't."

he looked down, a shaky breath falling past his lips. "i've regretted it ever since then. i don't know why i ever thought to say that."

"we fought, a lot."

"i take full blame for that. i'm sorry for not treating you how you should be." he sniffles, wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve. "i'm so sorry."

"Hinata i still love you."

he blinks up at you, your expression unwavering as you stare at him. "you do?"

"i spent two years on a painting of you, you think i just did it for shits and giggles?" you ask, perking a brow. "come on, let's go somewhere private to discuss more." your fingers wrap around his wrist as you take him to one of the private studios, sitting atop a desk. "do you want to get back together?"

"i do. only if you want to though, i don't want to force anything on you."

you nod, "i want us to make a promise shoyo." his heart fluttered when you called him by his first name, nodding his head. "i want us to promise that we'll never raise our voices at each other when we're mad. only when we're fighting over something stupid like who ate the last meat bun or who cleans the dishes." he nods, holding up his pinky.

"i promise (name)." you hook your pinky with his, heart swelling when he pressed your thumb against his muttering a quiet 'chu!' "i love you."

you smile softly at him, holding his hand. "i love you too." you hop off the table, hand going to his hair. "now tell me who thought it'd be a good idea to make you this hot."

he flushed, covering his face in embarrassment. "it was Atsumu." a scowl makes its way to your face, hinata laughing at the way your nose scrunched. "hey, i liked the painting by the way."

you squeezed his hand as you walked out of the art museum, waving to the security guards at the front. "thanks." you look up at the dark sky, stars splattering around. "hey, the big dipper." you point upwards, beaming at the sky.

hinata looked at you, his eyes filled with admiration, chest swelling with love now that he finally has you again. in his mind, whenever he looked at the stars he'd think of you and how your smile rivaled even the brightest.

and as he tilted your chin up, smiling down at you before pressing his lips to yours, a shooting star flew across the sky.

#haikyuu x reader #hinata shoyo #hinata shoyo x reader #undercut hinata pspsps #hinata x reader #haikyuu imagines #hinata shoyo imagines #yes hxh reference with the chu pinky promise

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teejiplier · 5 years ago

Text

Sealed with a Kiss

Summary: Illinois had left you feeling...some kind of way. Those feelings resurface, and are in turn, revealed.

Content Warning: Near Death Experience, Angst

Relationship: Illinois/Reader

AO3 Link: X

AN: HUGE shoutout to the Yancy discord server for helping me through this. ESPECIALLY Mary for helping me come up with the end.

You weren't sure what to do after monkey heaven. With a golden banana and perfect diamond, however, you were sure you could do anything. Maybe take them to a museum, or a jewelers, or just sell them on eBay.

Maybe not that last one.

You decided on a museum, it's what Illinois would've wanted, you think. As you begin to exit the cave, you saw where you had first entered, and subsequently met the adventurer.

You recalled one of the first things he had said to you upon your agreement to join him.

"Oh great! That's awesome! It's not every day you meet someone that's willing to face almost certain death on a daily basis. Good on you!"

You smile fondly, as you finally enter the light...the moon light that is. You weren't sure how much time you had spent with Illinois, but it seemed to have been the entire day. Perhaps time flows differently in heaven.

Regardless, you pressed on. You looked up to see the sky filled with stars, and couldn't help but feel like something was missing.

"I think this is destiny."

Illinois voice echoed inside your head, and you found yourself missing his presence. If only to look at the stars with you, maybe have him point out the constellations, if he knew any, and you could show him your favorites.

There was so much you wanted to show him, so much you thought he could show you. But soon enough, you remembered why that couldn't be.

"Yes. I am single, but I'm married to the job, and my associates never last long, so, best not to get too attached."

Dammit. You had gotten attached. He had explicitly told you not to and yet, here you were. Looking at the stars, wandering around, completely lost. You had gotten caught up in your own head, and now you didn't recognize where you were.

Of course, you could stay where you were and possibly wait for help, but where was the fun in that? With the addition of the fact that you had just broken into a museum, being found was not that appealing.

Soon enough, you had made your way back to the car. Perhaps Mark's impeccable sense of direction had rubbed off on you. What hadn't though, was the ability to hot wire a car. So once again, you were stranded.

What would Illinois do? You weren't exactly sure. Perhaps he would say something suave, and saunter off into the darkness. No, you couldn't do that, darkness was all around you, and you couldn't think of anything very suave at the moment.

But as you laid in the back of the car, looking at the stars, thinking of something suave to say, you had an idea. What if you used the stars to get home? You knew Polaris was the north star, and if you could find the little dipper, you could possibly find your way back to the museum, and if you found your way there, you could find your way back to base.

While on you way back, your thoughts drifted to Illinois again. You wondered what he was doing right now, was he looking up at the same stars as you? You could only hope. Was he on another adventure? Did he have a new associate? That thought hurt your heart. He probably did. Another person had probably fallen in love with him, despite his warnings. At least he was kind enough to apologize before you parted ways.

"Thanks for the fun adventure, and I'm sorry if you fell in love with me, they always do."

"Illinois, you are an enigma." You said to yourself. There was so much you wanted to know about him and yet you never spoke up during the time you two spent together.

Just as you were kicking yourself for your inability to speak up for yourself, you heard a rustling coming from nearby. You didn't have any of your gear with you, so there wasn't much in the way of protecting yourself. And the gem and golden banana! You had no way of protecting those either. Well, you figured you could use the gem as a blunt object to throw at the assailant.

You tried your best to be hidden in the tall grass, watching, waiting for something to come into your sight. Finally, you saw the outline of a figure and you sprung into action. You jumped up and threw the gem at them as hard as you could. You heard an audible 'thunk' followed by an "ow!" before you saw what you had hit.

And in a sick twist of fate, you realized, with horror, that it was Illinois.

"Oh my gosh I am so sorry I didn't realize it was you and I was scared and-" You began, apologizing a mile a minute before he brought his hand up to stop you.

"Don't worry about it, wasn't nothing ol' Illinois, seasoned adventurer, couldn't handle." He drawled, pausing before realizing where the two of you were.

"Speakin' of adventures, what are you doin' all the way out here? You on your own adventure without me?" He teased.

"In a way. I got lost, found my way back, and then got lost again. Heard something creeping around me, threw a gem at it. You know, typical adventure stuff. Why are you out here?" You asked, genuinely curious. There wasn't much out here, besides grass and trees, not much of a forest, more so a wood.

"Well I was making my way back from the cave when I could've sworn I heard someone say my name. Due to my impeccable tracking skills I was able to track the sound to this area, before I was hit in the head with, what I now know, was a gem. Where did you even get that anyways?" He asked as he started to look around for the said item.

"You know that rock you got from Monkey Heaven that you decided to throw away?" You said.

"Yeah? What about it?" He questioned.

"It was in there." You said, waiting to gauge his reaction. As soon as the words had tumbled out of your mouth, he froze, and then started shaking. Was...was the great Illinois crying? No, you thought, it couldn't be. But just as you reached out to touch him, you could hear. He was laughing.

"Leave it to an adventurer to not see the true worth of a rock." He chuckled.

"Aha!" He exclaimed, rising from his kneeling position with the gem. Which wouldn't have been a problem, but given how you were reaching out to check on him, you hadn't moved away and now the two of you were standing almost nose to nose.

It wasn't like you were complaining though. In fact, being this close was nice. You could feel the breath exhaling from him, and you could see the patterns in his eyes. His eyes, you could get lost in them. They reflected the stars, and as you stated deeply into his, you felt as though he was looking into yours, looking at you soul, trying to understand it, like ancient writings on a wall. And suddenly all you could think about was Illinois. What he did when he wasn't adventuring, how he liked his coffee, did he even like coffee? What it would be like to wake up next to him,and hear his groggy morning voice, and you wondered how it would be if you just leaned in and-

"Here, you probably want this back." He said sheepishly, taking your hand and putting the gem in it. His hand lingered for a moment before he quickly retracted it, turning away from you.

"Best head out now, I suppose. Adventure waits for no one." He said, before he turned back to look at you. "I don't suppose you would want to come, would you?

You had to restrain yourself from screeching.

"An adventure sounds lovely." You said, more composed than you actually felt.

He began to lead you through the woods, which did eventually turn into a forest, and soon enough, there was a forest temple. He lead you in, and slowly the two of you meandered through the temple. Though something seemed different, Illinois seemed more on edge. You knew he knew the dangers of the job, so why was he anxious? Was there something in this temple he wasn't telling you? That couldn't be it though, he was honest to a fault, always speaking his mind.

So why now was he silent?

The traps themselves were simple enough to avoid, and yet Illinois nearly got hit by all of them. Something was definitely up, but you weren't sure if you should mention it. Maybe later.

"Alright, I think we're at the center of the temple." He said.

"What makes you think that?" You ask.

"The giant Jaguar statue that's missing an eye." He mentioned casually.

Oh. Yeah, that'll do it. You probably missed it due to your worrying over Illinois himself. Actually, now that you were looking at the Jaguar statue you got to looking at it's eye. For some reason it seemed eerily familiar and-

"Illinois give me a hand here." You said, eyes not leaving the statue. "I need you to bend over."

His face went red immediately, but you didn't notice.

"Uh, ha, what do you mean?" He managed to choke out.

"Give me a boost." You said looking back to him. And you looked at him curiously until it finally clicked in your mind and wow you really had said that hadn't you. Good job. Maybe if you pretended like you didn't mean anything by it he'll believe that. Maybe. Regardless, the moment passed, and up you went, climbing on to the rocks to reach the top.

You took out the large gem that you had gotten from the Monkey cave, and compared it to the gem in the Jaguar's eye. Could it really be that simple? And what was the gem doing in the monkey cave if it belonged here? Perhaps you could ask Illinois afterwards.

You placed the gem into the eye socket, which was followed by a soft click. Before you knew it the Jaguar began to shake violently, and you lost you grip. You felt yourself falling and thinking, what Illinois had said about near death experiences.

You heard you name being called out as you fell, but it sounded distant. You paid it no mind and hit the floor of the temple with a sharp crack.

You wake up, groggily, after what feels like ages. It's still night when you wake up, and there's a warm heat radiating from somewhere. You take in your surroundings and see a small campsite, with a fire pit and pitched tent. You had no idea how you had gotten here though. The last thing you remember was putting a gem into a socket and falling while you were in a temple with...Illinois! You looked around desperately for him, and you tried to get up, but as soon as you did you needed to sit back down. Your head was pounding. But that didn't matter. You needed to find Illinois.

"Illinois!" You were frantically shouting out his name, hoping against hope that he had made it out. If he hadn't...no. You couldn't think like that. He had to have made it out. He couldn't...he couldn't be... Your head was throbbing to the point where you couldn't even hear yourself think. Much less hear the footsteps of someone approaching you until they had put a hand on your shoulder.

You whipped around to see who it was, which in retrospect, only exacerbated the problem, and saw Illinois himself. He was a little worse for wear from what you could tell, but he was there. And that was all that mattered.

Or at least that's what you thought.

You had began to pull him into a hug when he pushed you away. The pain in your heart as he did this was so much worse than the one in your head.

"What-" You began, before being cut off by Illinois.

"That was the stupidest thing you could've ever done." He said curtly.

"What are you talking ab-" You tried to get out.

"How could you be so stupid? Do you even think about the consequences your actions might have?" He said, his voice full of venom.

"Well you're one to talk, Mr everyone falls in love with me."

"BUT THAT DOESN'T LEAD TO PEOPLE GETTING HURT!"

"OH IT DOESN'T? WHAT MAKES OUR ACTIONS SO DIFFERENT THEN?"

"THE FACT THAT YOU HAVE PEOPLE WHO CARE ABOUT YOU! YOU HAVE PEOPLE WHO LOVE YOU! YOU CAN'T JUST GO AND THROW YOUR LIFE AWAY!"

"SO WHAT? YOU ALWAYS SEEM SO EAGER TO DO IT! WHAT WAS UP WITH YOU TODAY HUH? YOU NEARLY GOT YOUR SELF KILLED BY EVERY TRAP IN THE TEMPLE!"

"THAT'S DIFFERENT!"

"HOW?"

"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU DAMMIT!" He said with a finality that left you speechless.

"You, love me?" You asked, hesitantly.

"Yes," he said, sighing as he sat down and put his head in his hands," I love you."

"You love me." You said again, this time to yourself, processing the words. Your head was ringing, most likely because of the shouting, and you nearly collapsed. But Illinois was there to catch you. He laid you down gently, and put your head in his lap.

"You've kept your cool and have been up to the challenge every time I've asked. I'm not used to that. And, you care about me, which is something I'm much more used to and yet, it's so jarring." He took a brief pause to collect his thoughts.

"When you fell from that Jaguar, I couldn't save you, and that was the most terrible thing to ever happen to me. I'm so used to people falling for me, that when I realized I had fallen for you, I was scared. The thought of losing you to one of those traps or something worse, I knew I wouldn't be able to bear it. I thought that if I hit them, then they wouldn't hit you and I thought I was keeping you safe but...when it really mattered, I wasn't there."

"You wouldn't be any good to anyone if you had gotten taken out you know." You mumbled.

"Better me than you." He said.

"You shouldn't say things like that. You might actually start believing it." You said, reaching up to gently hold his face. He leans into it, without thinking, and smirks.

"It's a bit too late for that, I'm afraid." He said, his scruff gently scratching your hand as his mouth turned towards it, placing a gentle kiss on your palm.

At that, you pulled yourself to face him, and retracted your hand to be in front of him. He seemed sad at first, followed by confusion as you began to speak.

"How about this. I promise not to do anything stupid if you promise not to do anything stupid. Deal?" You stuck your pinky out in front of him. He gently put his hand on yours pushing you hand down into your lap, which scared you.

But before you could start spiraling he began to lean in towards your face and capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. You were surprised to say the least, but that didn't stop you from kissing back. It was kind, sweet, and you could feel Illinois love for you behind it. You did your best to match it, bringing your hands to his face pulling him impossibly close.

He broke the kiss after a moment though, leaving you breathless and confused before he uttered something you would've missed, had you not been paying such attention to him.

"Deal."

#fic #fic:illinois #ahwm illinois #illinois/reader #/reader

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multifandomfanficwriters · 6 years ago

Note

Hi I really love ur fics and wondering if you could do an imagine with Dipper and just watching a movie while cuddling, thanks!

Movie Nights

Fandom: Gravity Falls

Pairing: Dipper x Reader

Words: 1258

Warnings: none

A/N: Oh hey look I’m not dead!! I’m really sorry it took me so long to write this nonie!! I hope it lived up to your expectations! If I have to be honest I’m really proud with this fic I really like how it turned out and I hope you like it too!

Hearing the microwave ding behind you, you turned around, opening it, carefully taking out the hot bag of popcorn and placing it on the kitchen counter next to the other two already slightly cooled down ones. Then you opened the cupboard and took out a large bowl. Carefully emptying the popcorn into the bowl, so as to not burn yourself, you didn’t notice the shadow of a figure slipping inside the kitchen.

-“Where did you say were the napkins?” A hesitant voice startled you. Letting your grip on the bag loosen a bit and spilling some of the popcorns as a small yelp left your lips, you turned around, ready to smack whomever this intruder may be only to be met with a confused and flustered Dipper. Sighing, relieved you didn’t have to face a burglar, you pointed to a drawer a bit to the side.

After a few years of knowing Dipper and several months of dating him, he had finally agreed for you to be the one to host you weekly movie night. It’s not like he hadn’t been to your house before. Of course, you had invited him numerous times but it was always for a short while and you parents were there too. Now, however, they had gone off to visit some distant relatives and left you alone at the house, knowing you didn’t exactly burn with desire to meet up with people who “have known you since you were a wee bit baby” but whom you couldn’t remember the names of for the life of you. Therefore, you thought that it would be a great opportunity to spend the night cuddled up next to your boyfriend and watch a good movie while munching on some snacks. And with that thought in mind you called him, expecting him to be happy that you didn’t have to bother his parents with your constant comments while watching movies in their living room. But to your surprise Dipper was somewhat hesitant as he reluctantly agreed.

You were currently preparing all kinds of snacks and drinks, from the popcorn you had just finished filling the bowl with and were now throwing away the paper bags and the ones you spilled when Dipper startled you to the ice cream and all the bottles of coke and your favorite kind of juice. In all honesty, you had enough food to feed a small army and you both knew it. But that didn’t stop you while you were filling the cart at the store. The food just kept piling while you were laughing you asses off and mentally thanking your parents for letting you use their credit cards.

These movie nights stated a few months into your friendship when you had invited the twins to come over to your house to study. However, Mabel had other plans for the weekend so when Dipper arrived at your door all you ended up doing that evening was watching movies until his parents came to pick him up. Ever since then it has been the same. You stocked up with all sorts of junk food that could last you for at least a few days and watched movies; every time different ones. And even though you always felt sick the next morning from all the unhealthy mixture of sweet and salty foods and fizzy drinks, it was all worth it.

Walking back to the living room you smiled at the comfortable nest of blankets and fluffy pillows Dipper had made in front of the TV. When you laid your eyes on your boyfriend, who was currently arranging your favorite drinks and foods closer to where you were going to sit, your smile grew bigger. Putting the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table you turned to Dipper who was standing on the other side of it. Even for a teenager his age, the awkwardness radiating off him was too much, considering that you had been friends for the past few years and were his significant other for over four months now.

-“What’s wrong? Are you not feeling well?” You asked him concerned.

-“What?! Oh no, no, I’m fine!” Dipper jumped surprised and held his hands in front of him as if to defend himself from your worry. He quickly sat down on the blankets and carefully organized pillows, moving aside a bit to make room for you as if you weren’t going to lean into him halfway through the movie.

You simply sat down, deciding not to question him for now and as you settled into a more comfortable position, you turned on the movie.

A good fifteen minutes had passed from the beginning of the movie when you leaned into Dipper, expecting him to put his hand around you and pull you closer. However, you were left surprised when he stiffened at your touch.

-“There’s something you’re not telling me. First, I had to convince you to come over for our weekly movie night and now I feel like you don’t want me near you. Did I do something wrong? Please Dipper. I’m just worried.” You said softly, eyes cast down not wanting to see his disappointed expression.

-“No!” He exclaimed. “You did nothing wrong! You could never do anything wrong. You’re perfect. I’m the one who messed up everything.” Dipper admitted shyly, scratching the back of his neck as a soft red hue covered his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

-”What do you mean?” You asked confused. “Dipper, please tell me you didn’t summon a creature from another realm and now we have to get it away from here before it destroys reality as we know it….again.” You deadpanned as you crossed your arms over your chest.

-”What? No, no! I promised I wouldn’t try anything like that ever again.” Dipper defended himself, a visible shiver running down his spine as he remembered the events from around half a year ago. “It’s just that…well…” He hesitated as he continued. Looking up at you from under his eyelashes, Dipper saw you patiently waiting for him to continue. “I’m nervous because this is the first time I’m going to spend the night at your house and because we’re going to be alone.” He finished in one breath, shutting his eyes tightly and hanging his head low, waiting for you to laugh at him.

Instead, Dipper felt a soft hand gently lift his face. Opening his eyes, he was met with your face, gentle as ever, a small smile gracing your lips and eyes holding an ocean of love only for him.

-”Is that all? I have to say, I should have guessed. I was a bit nervous the first time I had to spend the night at your place, too. But it’s okay. Just try to forget where we are and focus on the fact that we’re together and we’re going to do is watch a movie, make stupid jokes and eat a ton of junk food. That’s what helped me, at least.” You said sincerely, earning yourself a lopsided smile.

-”I’ll try. Thank you.” Dipper said with sparkling eyes, his cheerfulness you oh so loved returning as his nervousness melted away by the second.

With one last smile, which seemed to be permanently stuck on both of your faces, you turned your attention back to the TV, snuggling comfortably against each other for the rest of the movie. At that moment, you thought you couldn’t be happier but little did you know what life had prepared for the two of you.

#mod Tessa #gravity falls #dipper x reader #dipper pines #dipper pines x reader #fanfiction #anon ask #im sorry i was gone for so long #but im back now #yay

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7team7 · 6 years ago

Text

SasuSaku Month Day 20: Something New

Title: Employee Discount // Summary: Sasuke works at Hot Topic and wants to do something new with his look. Sakura from Claire’s knows just the solution: pierce his ears. She pierces his ears AND his heart in the process. // ao3 ffnet

A/N: has this been done before?? Mall au is so funny to me i don’t own anything at all

----

Sasuke rang up the last customer in line and handed them their bag full of merchandise. Working in retail was exhausting and he was more than grateful to be on his 30 minute break. He wasn’t even a good employee and he was so ready to go home.

Customers were really testing his patience that day, especially when Kiba and Naruto came in twice to buy glow in the dark condoms.

“If I tape these to my wall, will it be like those glow in the dark stars we had as kids?”

“Dude, imagine a glow in the dark condom constellation.” Kiba handed Naruto the smaller size, taking the larger one for himself, “haha Naruto, you have a Little Dipper.”

Even the pre-teens buying rubber bracelets and colorful skinny jeans were more tolerable than those two.

He called out to his co-worker Suigetsu, “I’m on my 30. Don’t bother me,” before leaving the store in search of a soft pretzel. He didn’t know what they put in those pizza pretzels that made them so good—well, he did know, they used cheese and tomato sauce and pepperonis and shit, but still. They were godly.

As usual, Rock Lee was enthusiastically handing out free samples while Neji made the pretzels and TenTen manned the register. Sasuke wrinkled his nose when he saw that the samples were the almond covered bites with caramel sauce. Gross.

He nodded to TenTen for his usual. After he paid and waited for Neji to take the pretzel out of the oven, he noticed the necklace resting on Neji’s chest. “Your necklace is sick, dude. Where’d you buy it?”

Neji handed him the pretzel in a bag and pointed behind Sasuke, “Claire’s. My cousin works there and they actually have cool stuff. You should check it out. Buy from Hinata, she makes commission.”

Sasuke chomped on his pretzel and nodded, not caring if he burned his mouth. They were best fresh. Maybe he needed some new jewelry, his usual look was getting a bit stale. He didn’t want to be like Lee: signature or not, that green jumpsuit was awful.

Still munching away, he wandered into Claire’s for the first time. He was going to really have to look to find something as cool as what Neji had on, it looked like a unicorn had vomited over half the store. He was sorting through some simple, silver jewelry when the sales associate asked him, “are you finding everything alright?”

He turned around, mouth full of pretzel, ready to answer that he was just looking, but holy shit. It was a super pretty sales associate. He finished chewing and swallowed before answering, “uhh I just wanna do something new. Got any ideas?” As a fellow retail sufferer, he knew it was annoying to actually help customers, but he decided to be a little selfish and bother her for a bit.

To his surprise, she perked up. Little did he know, Sakura actually loved talking to customers. How well did they pay at Claire’s? She gestured to the display he had been looking through, “these kinds of simple pieces are really popular with guys lately. But can I make a suggestion?”

He nodded as quickly as he could, eager to hear what she thought.

“You’d look super hot with your ears pierced.”

Did that mean he was already hot or the earrings would be a game changer? Either way, getting his ears pierced did sound pretty sick. He heard it didn’t even hurt that much. “I’m down. You can do it here, right?” Sakura pointed to a chair in the corner, “yup, just sit over there and I’ll be with you in a second! Choose your studs from the board.”

He had decided on a simple silver stud when Sakura came back with the needle gun. Didn’t they have one of those in the Hot Topic break room?

“Is your hair natural?” he couldn’t help but ask while she prepped.

Sakura paused while wiping his ears with disinfectant. She nodded towards him in all his bangs-plus-spiky-hair glory, “I could ask the same to you.”

Point taken. He let her continue doing her job. She was even prettier up close. Her name tag said Sakura. That was a nice name. She seemed nice.

He remembered he had more pretzel in the bag and took another bite. His chewing made his ears wiggle up and down, though, so Sakura placed a hand on the side of his face, “hold still. It’ll only be a quick pinch.” Her hand was warm and soft, Sasuke didn’t even notice that the nail gun had pierced his ear. His poor pizza pretzel was completely forgotten now.

Sakura stepped back to admire her handywork. All her soft colors stood out amongst the glaring lights and tacky decor. Sometimes angry moms with awful haircuts came into Hot Topic and accused him of being a devil. Next time he would tell them to go to Claire’s, an angel worked there.

He looked at himself in the mirror she handed him. He did look kinda cool. Sakura started telling him about how often he needed to clean his ears and how long until he could change to a different pair of earrings. “Can I get your number?” he blurted. When Sakura simply raised an eyebrow at him, he quickly clarified, “I’m not gonna remember all that. Could you text it to me?”

Sakura laughed and turned around to walk towards the register, “maybe next time. For today I’ll let you use my employee discount.”

----

Sasuke visited Sakura on his breaks from then on. She was way more entertaining than the Hot Topic break room or the mall food court. He usually brought her an almond covered pretzel with caramel sauce when he got his pizza one. Her manager, Tsunade, didn’t care as long as he brought a lemonade slushy for her too.

“Sakura, you never told me your new boyfriend is an e-boy?”

Sasuke didn’t know what an e-boy was, but if E stood for emo he was going to lose it.

----

A/N: as always i hope my dumb jokes land well or i’ll be embarrassed. Happy birthday emo king

#sasusaku month 2019 #ssm19d20 #happy birthday sasuke #sasusaku #my writing

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iishipallthethings · 7 years ago

Text

The Hunt Chapter 3

Story Summary: Its been thirteen years since Mabel helped Dipper defeat Bill. And five years since she last step foot in Gravity Falls or even seen her twin brother. Desperate for information and help, Mabel returns to Gravity Falls in hopes of finding her Grunkle Ford but instead, she finds Wendy Corduroy, the new sheriff of the strange town. Why did Mabel leave? What is Wendy hiding?

Chapter Title: Meeting Old Friends

Pairing: Mabel X Wendy

Coffee?

This morning, the sun didn’t try to stab at Mabel’s eyes as she awoke. She stretched as far as she could, her feet and hands bumping against the couch’s armrests. Mabel sat up and rubbed the remainder of sleep from her eyes. A bed would have been more comfortable but she couldn’t really complain. She slept in far worse places in her travels, many times fearing that she wouldn’t open her eyes again. Mabel looked at the clock hanging above the television set. 4:24 AM. She doubted Wendy was up by then and began her daily exercises. She went through her fifty situps and twenty pushups before leaving the house to jog for an hour. It wasn’t enough to build up too much muscle but it was suitable to make sure she stayed limber and strong. When she reentered the house, Mabel could hear movement from the other side of a closed door and assumed Wendy was up and about. She went into the house’s one bathroom and noticed the tub was wet from a recent shower. She got in the tub and took a relatively quick shower, she would have loved to take a nice long one but apparently Wendy loved hot water as there was very little left for Mabel.

Mabel was shivering by the time she got dressed and went into the kitchen. Wendy was there, sipping a cup of coffee, smiling apologetically when she saw Mabel’s cold state. “Sorry about that.” Wendy offered a cup of fresh coffee as a gift of peace. The younger woman accepted it with a scowl but as the liquid warmed her, she found herself becoming happier, despite of the plans she had for the day. Mabel finished the cup and set it in the sink. “I’m going out for a bit. Do you want anything while I’m gone?” The younger woman felt a little weird sleeping on Wendy’s couch and using her utilities rent-free. She could at the very least pick up some candy or soda for the sheriff.

Wendy drank the rest of her coffee and looked at Mabel. “Cool, I got the day off too so I’ll tag along.” She spoke with an expression that said she wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer. She was worried about Mabel and she wanted to make sure she was staying safe. A part of her, although she would deny it if someone asked her about it, was worried that Mabel might go after the magical creatures residing in the forests.

“Okay,” Mabel said, not putting up any resistance. She guessed that Wendy would want to come as well and figured that she would save the older woman the hassle of trailing her if she said no. At least, that’s what she would have done if she was in Wendy’s shoes. Mabel knew that the sheriff was perhaps a bit suspicious of Mabel’s feelings to the magical creatures of Gravity Falls after reading her journal. She fingered the hilt of her knife as she led the way to Wendy’s cop car. She got in the passenger seat and watched as Wendy called in sick. “Playing hookie? That’s illegal, Sheriff Corduroy,” Mabel teased.

“It’s only illegal if I get caught,” Wendy retorted, smirking as she pulled out of her driveway. “Besides, I’m the boss. Who’s gonna arrest me? Robbie?”

Mabel sat up straighter in her seat in shock. “Wait! Robbie’s a cop too?”

Wendy laughed and nodded. “Yep! He’s actually deputy now.” She glanced at Mabel and smiled at the expression of surprise still on her face. “He’s more of a pencil pusher though so don’t expect him to pull you over for speeding.” Wendy turned a right to go on the street that went through the forest. Soon, the smooth pavement became a dirt road and Wendy was careful that she didn’t push the car too much. She pulled over on the side of the road and made sure to grab a flashlight and a map in case they got lost but she wasn’t really worried about that possibility. She spent all her life in these woods and knew them like the back of her hand. “It’s about an half-hour walk to the statue,” Wendy informed Mabel. The older Pines twin simply nodded with a serious face. Wendy realized with a plummeting stomach that the old, playful Mabel was gone and deadly, hunter Mabel took her place.

The two walked in silence for most of the time. Wendy attempted to spark some conversation on how the magical creatures were faring but Mabel was too focused on scanning their surroundings, her eyes never staying on one place for long. Wendy sighed and stared straight ahead. There was nothing in these woods that would dare mess with them.

Wendy could tell they were getting close to Bill’s statue by the amount of noise. There was none. No squirrels rustling the leaves in the above canopies, no birds singing their songs, no random animal scurrying about the underbrush. There was simply their feet snapping dry twigs or disturbing the fallen leaves. “I don’t like this,” Wendy muttered, wishing she had brought along her axe. It wouldn’t be able to do much against the supernatural beings of Gravity Falls, much less Bill, but it would have comforted her.

The younger woman knew they were nearing the statue by her aches. Each scar that had come from her hunts burned with a higher intensity as the two walked through the woods. Her leg felt as if there were maggots feasting on her flesh and digging their way to the bone. She had cleaned the wound after her hangover a few days before but it felt like she did nothing to stop the maggots. Mabel grit her teeth and bared it as much as she could, regretting letting Wendy come with her. If she was alone, she could have rested but now she didn’t have that luxury. Maybe if they came across a creek, Mabel could use the excuse of getting water to halt their progress.

“There,” Mabel sighed, spotting the stone statue of the being that almost destroyed their universe. Her body was aflame from her old wounds, like the creatures were still attacking her. She grimaced at the dead grass encompassing Bill’s statue. It formed a perfect circle and Mabel half-expected it to be in the shape of a triangle. There was a skeleton of a small rodent, a mouse perhaps. From the looks of it, the poor creature only set the tiniest claw into the circle’s circumference. Mabel pointed it out to Wendy and the sheriff nodded in understanding. “Let’s get this over with,” the hunter said, pulling out the dagger she had held to Wendy’s throat just days prior.

Wendy gulped at the sight of the weapon, remembering the cool kiss it gave her. She could focus on it better now that it wasn’t threatening her life and noticed some runes carved into the steel. “What are those?”

Mabel glanced down at the markings with something of a bored expression. “These are symbols from different ancient civilizations.” She tapped the one closest to the hilt. “This is Nazar, or the Evil Eye, and like the others, it helps detect evil.” Mabel pointed the tip of the dagger to the statue. “The hotter this dagger feels, the more evil a creature is.” She carefully took a step forward and licking her lips, thrust the dagger into the circumference of the circle. Immediately, blue flame sprouted out of the steel and Mabel snatched it back towards her. The fire went out as soon as it was out of Bill’s range and Mabel laughed nervously. “That was close!”

“Um, yeah,” Wendy didn’t know what to make of the blue flames. The blade was glowing red from the fire and she didn’t want to know how Mabel was able to still hold it so casually. “Is, uh, that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“A good thing, ” Mabel answered, kneeling down to stab the knife into the soil. Tendrils of steam rose from the dagger as the damp soil cooled the blade. “A very good thing. The fact that it had such a violent reaction means that Bill is still trapped in the stone.” Mabel tugged the dagger from the ground and inspected the steel. It was cool enough to slip into the holster without it melting the leather.

“Is that all for today?” They hadn’t really done much but Wendy was more than willing to head back to the house to relax. Just being in the same vicinity as Bill, statue form or not, was enough to set her on edge. Wendy kept glancing back to the stone statue as if it would come alive at any moment. When she received no immediate answer, the sheriff felt dread. “What is it?”

“I want to visit Gideon,” Mabel admitted. “If Grunkle Ford isn’t here then he’s the next best thing.” She could tell that from the silence that she had stunned Wendy. She started to walk away from the site with Wendy following. With each step she could feel the pain leaving her body, except for the leg. Mabel would have to change the bandages soon again and her gut tightened uneasily at the prospect. “Do you know where he lives now?”

Wendy nodded, turning her head to give the Bill statue one last look before a tree obscured her view. “Yeah, but we’ll find him at that car dealership now. He became a partner in his father’s business and made a name for himself. Even people out of town come to see him and not for that psychic bullshit.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t demand full ownership,” Mabel laughed to hide the groan of pain. The foot of her injured leg hit against a hidden root and the jolt sent a wave of pain up her limb. She saw Gideon grow into a respectable man before she stopped coming to Gravity Falls but she knew that a lot can happen in five years. She’s a prime example.

The two exited the woods and got into the sheriff’s car. They drove to the once-shoddy dealership in good time. Mabel took the opportunity to massage her injured leg as discreetly as possible. It was getting a lot worse now, probably needing a visit to the hospital but she couldn’t afford it in time or money. Hunting wasn’t really profitable but at least the families tend to let her crash at their places while she took care of the monster tormenting them.

Mabel almost gasped at the sight of the cars lining the Gleeful’s car lot. She remembered them all being busted up and rusted but now their exteriors shined from care without a single scratch on it. There was even a sign on the windshields informing the customer of the possibility to test drive the car, something Bud Gleeful would have been too nervous to try before on the account that most of the cars he tried to sell were horrific. The two women exited their vehicle and Wendy led Mabel to the office when they couldn’t spot Gideon’s white hair in the crowd gushing over a mercedes. Wendy didn’t bother knocking before turning the knob and walking inside.

At the only desk in the building sat Gideon. He was typing away on a computer, the very action seeming strange to Mabel, but swiveled around when he heard the little bell at the door ding. “How may I he- Mabel!?” Gideon jumped out of his chair, a large smile springing on his face at the sight of the older Pines twin.

The woman in question could only stare at the young man. He had changed in the last five years. He still wore the blue suit but now filled it out with more muscle instead of fat, however there was a little pudge at his stomach. Gideon sported a well kept goatee that was the same snowy white as his hair. He strutted up to Mabel, having caught her eyes looking him over, and held out his hand. Mabel took it but instead of a handshake like she expected, Gideon raised her hand to give it a quick kiss. “I never thought I would see such a beautiful woman again,” he said charmingly as he let go of Mabel’s hand.

Mabel could only blush and coughed into the hand that Gideon didn’t kiss. She thought he would have gotten over her in her absence but it seems that he didn’t. Gideon was still after her heart when she came back for her second summer and all the rest after that but instead of being really pushy and creepy, it was more of that puppylove Dipper had for Wendy. At times it was actually cute opening the door out of the shack and seeing a bouquet of flowers with a card asking how she was. “If you want to see a beautiful woman, all you have to do is look to my left.” Mabel gestured towards Wendy as if she was presenting her at an art gallery.

Now Wendy felt her cheeks start to become warm but she didn’t really understand why. Mabel just wanted Gideon’s attention off of her, that’s all. Gideon gave her a friendly grin but not with as much charisma as he showed Mabel. “Can I help you two with something?” he asked, looking at Mabel. If Wendy needed something, she would have called him or demanded that he come to the police station. Gideon was sure that it was Mabel who wanted his expertise, or at least he sincerely hoped so.

“Yes,” Mabel nodded, taking out her journal. “How much do you remember of Grunkle Ford’s journal?”

At the words, the cheerful expression melted to hesitation and a bit of fear but Gideon was quick to put on a mask of confidence for Mabel. “I must admit I’m a bit, erm, tentative to recall those chapters of my life shall we say. With all those attempts of stealing your Mystery Shack, attacking your brother, dealing with Bill, and, uh,” Gideon blushed with shame and embarrassment, “the other unpleasantries.”

“Like holding me prisoner in that insanity bubble so I would be your queen?” Mabel asked. When Gideon looked down at the floor, she was reminded of a hurt puppy and felt absurd guilt pierce her. He had turned over a new leaf but that didn’t erase all the bad things Gideon had done in the past.

Gideon brushed back his hair and grabbed his collar. From the years she known the man Mabel learned that his actions were a nervous tick, like Soos’s nervous talking. “But if truth be told, I remember everything from that journal. I have a photographic memory, you see.” He glanced at the closed door and leaned closer to Mabel, holding up one hand as if to shield the words from Wendy and jerking his thumb to the door. “Since its about those journals, I have to ask. Is the, er, other one outside?”

“No,” came the swift answer from both Wendy and Mabel. The older Pines twin pulled out her journal to show Gideon. “Dipper doesn’t know I’m here and I wish to keep it that way. The summer I didn’t come back was when I started to travel the world, finding my own Gravity Falls.” The joke made Wendy frown but Gideon didn’t know why.

For his part, Gideon didn’t question Mabel’s motives, figuring that they must be good ones. Anything paranormal would bring Dipper running like a dog to a big, juicy steak. “As you wish, my lady. Besides, it’s so much more peaceful around these parts without him trying to poke his nose into my business, seeing if I’m still evil and whatnot,” he laughed like it didn’t bother him. He held out his hand and Mabel put her journal into it. Gideon opened it at the beginning, his eyebrows immediately furrowing as he read of her first hunt for a poltergeist. He read the pages of her first hunt quickly but skimmed through the other entries, his face paling to the color of his hair and beard. “I never even heard of some of these abominations!” he exclaimed, now only reading the dates of the entries and what Mabel was hunting at that time. Wendy really didn’t like how even Gideon didn’t know the creatures which meant that Ford, whose journal taught Gideon everything he knew about the supernatural, didn’t either. “The dates,” he whispered, going back some entries to confirm his suspicions, “they’re becoming more frequent.”

“Don’t look too much into that,” Mabel chimed. “I think I’m getting better at finding them, not that there numbers are actually increasing.”

Gideon nodded on instinct and finally landed on the last entry. If he looked scared before now he was absolutely petrified. His eyes went as wide as they could and the book almost fell out of his trembling hands. “The wendigo escaped,” he read aloud. Gideon stared at Mabel desperately, like he wanted her to say that this was all a big joke. “You let a wendigo escape!?”

“Whoa whoa,” Wendy called out, snatching the journal from Gideon’s quaking hands. “Wendigos are a thing?”

“Yes,” Gideon’s voice was a trembling mess. He didn’t take his eyes off Mabel as he pointed an accusing finger at her. “Why would you go after such a thing? They are one of the most dangerous creatures in this dimension! Even your great uncle warned never to cross paths with one.”

“I know,” Mabel gritted out through clenched teeth. It wasn’t that she was truly mad at either of them, just saying the creature’s identity made her leg burn. She looked at Wendy who was still reading her journal but continually glanced up to look at her. “I lost its trail a few weeks ago and I wanted to see if Grunkle Ford had any idea how to track it down.” Mabel met Gideon’s eyes and talked before he could voice his objections. “I was able to corner it but it fled before I could kill it.” Her eyes narrowed as she recalled that day. “It got my leg pretty bad and I had to stay in a local hospital for three months before I could try and track it again. I found it’s trail but it led to a dead end.”

“Then it's probably dead!” From what Wendy read, she prayed that was the case but both pairs of doubtful eyes ruined that hope. “Even if it isn’t, why would you want to find that thing?” It might have been selfish, if that creature was still alive it was still killing, but Wendy didn’t want Mabel facing that thing again.

“It has her scent,” Gideon answered with a grave voice.

Mabel smiled at them sadly. “I don’t know if it's playing with me or not but I don’t want to wait and find out. That area has had twenty three fatal grizzly maulings in the past three decades even though no one has even sighted a grizzly in the surrounding area. There’s also numerous missing persons that all seem to be concentrated in that one area.” She gestured to the journal where she had written all that down. “It is probably responsible for a hundred more deaths.” Mabel gently pried the journal from Wendy’s stiff fingers and put it back in its pocket.

Gideon played with his tassel, tightening it and then loosening it a moment later. “If I remember something, I’ll be sure to tell you.” He looked crestfallen as he said, “I’m sorry I couldn’t offer more of my assistance on the matter.”

“It’s okay, Gideon,” Mabel reassured him. “Honestly, I didn’t believe that there would be much if anything on wendigos in Grunkle Ford’s journals. If there was, then the magical creatures would know and would have left Gravity Falls a very long time ago.” The words did comfort Gideon a bit and he grinned up at Mabel.

“Well, if you need a new car don’t forget to call us. I’ll cut you a good deal.”

The two women left the building and headed to the parked car. This time, Mabel couldn’t suck up the pain and ended up limping when she got halfway to the car. She slumped into her seat and met Wendy’s worried eyes. Sighing, she rubbed her leg to try to massage some of the pain away. “I know, I know. I should have told you.”

Despite her concern for the younger woman, Wendy made a grunt of agreement. “Damn right you should have. This is big, Mabel.” She chewed her bottom lip before venturing out in dangerous territory. “You don’t want to call Dipper, right?” Mabel nodded, wondering where Wendy was going with this. “Then you can’t keep stuff like this from me, especially if you’re living in my house.” Wendy raised her hand when Mabel opened her mouth. “And no, I’m not going to let you sleep in that shitty motel so you just have to deal with telling me the truth.”

Mabel rolled her eyes and patted her injured leg. “First off, sorry for not telling you. I’ll make sure to let you in on what’s happening, as long as you don’t get too involved. This is my fuckup, not yours.” Mabel winced and groaned, sagging against the seat. “Second, I was going to ask if you knew how to change bandages.” She smiled through the pain at Wendy. “It feels like that thing is still slicing into my leg.”

#the hunt #wenbel #wendy x mabel #wendyxmabel #gravity falls #wendy corduroy #mabel pines #gideon

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vetivrr · 8 years ago

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Mafia au Willdip

AN: my excuse is I’m bored and haven’t slept in twenty seven hrs. ok

Will had refused, as soon as he’d grown old enough, to be a part of the Mafia.

He’d known he wasn’t cut out for it, and his family had known too, despite the blood of so many murderers running through his veins the younger of the Cipher twins had never ever claimed to be anything other than peaceable, a quality that wasn’t welcome in the not-so-subtle underworld of the huge city he called home.

At some point it had been decided that Will was untrainable and needed to be removed from the equation, and yet the natural ties of affection that might run through even the bloodiest of families had spared his life, and he’d been given a small business in a nice section of the city and told to make do.

And he did, and not only that but thrived. William loved the little flower shop he headed, doted over each and every aspect of the job with a tender devotedness that he never would have found in the morally questionable life of a mafioso.

Baby’s breath and roses were far less likely to kill him, after all.

Oh, it wasn’t to say he wasn’t touched by the whole organization, nobody in the city and probably elsewhere was, but he’d been lucky enough to witness only one or two of the gruesome things that resulted from the greed of his species, the rumors and names that flew about in hushed tones in side-rooms and speakeasies- names of some who’d died and some who’d killed, and he’d heard, more often than not, the name Cipher listed among the latter two…and in later years, another, the Gleefuls.

He’d heard his brother speak once or twice of the family as they’d risen to power from seemingly nowhere, and it had never been good. Cowards, he’d called them, a bunch of fake-ritzy bluenoses hiding behind silver gilt gates of the east end. Ignoring, of course, the fact that Bill had quite a high social status himself- at least on papers.

Bill tended to exaggerate his stories a little, but his brother had learned to watch out for the name anyway, though he was lucky enough not to run into anyone of the powerful family himself.

It hadn’t ever really been something he’d concerned himself with, though. Will was perfectly content to work his little flower shop, and while he loved seeing his brother, he could never really seem to relax when Bill showed up with his odd looking packages and stacks of sealed papers and talk of underground war, often only needing a place to lay low for a while until he could get back to ‘work’.

And for at least a few days after every visit, he couldn’t help but be a little nervous, watching the street-sides as he walked and carefully scrutinizing the faces of each new customer that opened the shop’s front door to look for any trace of ill-will or worse, recognition. He tried, hard, to be careful.

So it really shouldn’t have come as such a surprise when he finally was confronted– but then, Will was never on his alert this early in the morning, still busy tending the rows of bright, cheery blossoms and humming a little tune to himself as he worked, still a little sleepy from post-wake up haze, and he didn’t turn around immediately when the door opened behind him.

That was a mistake, because if he had he might have had a chance to realize what was going on before there was a gun pointed into his face.

“Good morning! I’m gonna need you to stick 'em up, sweetheart,” He heard the almost sickly sweet voice, turning his head slightly with a soft smile already in place- that froze when he saw the bright silver revolver, and the intimidating bunch who had crowded into his store with frighteningly silent rapidity.

Will let out an ungainly, high pitched squeak in response, stumbling backwards a bit, flinching as he knocked over a pot and it crashed to the floor behind him- to say he was surprised would have been a gross understatement, he was positively petrified.

But the owner of the voice, a finely dressed young lady, only laughed. The weapon in her hand was unwavering as she advanced on him, “Why so startled, darling? You really should have seen this coming, ya know,” She chirped out, “Now do what I said 'less you want some daylight through the skull. Now be a dear and get behind the counter.”

Will was hardly able to hear the order through the rushing in his ears, but he took the cue and did as told, slipping behind the shop’s little service counter and keeping his trembling hands raised a little.

There were five of them, he counted, his assailant and three other obviously armed men in pinstripe and bowlers, and a respectable looking young man who seemed almost out of place in the bunch, though it was made less so by the resemblance and similar navy blue garb he shared with the female ne'er do well. Cyan eyes seemed to follow every move Will made, though nothing else in his appearance would suggest hostility as he simply watched.

The Cipher had other things to worry about at the moment, however, and his eyes snapped back to the woman as she spoke smilingly, at a terrifying ease with one finger tightening against the trigger, “I won’t waste your time. You know what we want. Where is it.”

Will shook his head quickly, besides very much not knowing what she was talking about, he was just beginning to gain his voice back, “What are you doing–!?” He managed, the soft, panicked whisper only to elicit another laugh.

“You really wanna play this game with me, sweetie? Look, I don’t got a lot of patience to go round, so unless you really want me to pull the trigger…”

Will hardly dared move, hardly dared breathe, through his hands were already trembling violently as he tore his gaze away from the glinting metal barrel of the gun, up to its smug looking owner. He shook his head mutely, tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

“That’s what I thought. Now where’s the back door? I think we’ll just take a look around here.”

He felt as if he was going to faint, numb with shock, mind barely processing the question until the girl leaned forwards with a suddenly dangerous expression, “Hey! Patience ain’t my strong suit, mister. I asked you a question.”

Will’s whimper was barely audible, feeling the cold steel muzzle to his forehead and the faint, harsh smell of gunpowder clouding his senses. He just barely remembered not to flinch away and pointed a shaking finger in the direction of his apartment door, sucking in a gasp of relief when the gun was removed from his line of sight.

“Swell,” The young woman purred, giving a few signals, and turning away. “I’ll be back in a few, then!”

Will watched helplessly as she disappeared down the aisle, followed by one or two of the group’s men, but he forced himself to calm at least a little, sucking in a few deep breaths.

He glanced back to the other ones, who had been left to watch him, no doubt. Or more specifically, the gentlemanly one, the woman’s brother, he assumed if appearance was anything to go by. The man was still staring at him.

He couldn’t think too much of that, though, preoccupied with worrying over what might be going on upstairs. Were they going to ruin his cozy little apartment? What did they want, what could he possibly have that they would want??

What if Bill had hidden something here without telling him, Will almost felt sick to wonder? He wouldn’t doubt for a second it was something his hot-blooded twin would pull.

“You would do well to keep your hands where I can see them.”

Will startled at the glint of silver that showed as the man’s caplet parted for a few seconds, realizing he’d let his hands drop to his sides. He raised them again quickly, “S-sorry,” He muttered, noticing immediately the cultured accent to his words, and watching wide eyed as the other moved forwards, until he was stopped by the wooden barrier.

“You can rest them on the counter,” The brunette added flatly, and Will was quick to comply, something in the tone and glint in bright blue eyes telling him it was not a suggestion or a relent.

He was too frightened to speak and so he didn’t, eyes locked with the other’s until he couldn’t bear it anymore and looked away.

“Apologies for my sister- I told her it would be best to take a more subtle approach. You have a nice shop.”

“What?” Will glanced up with a disbelieving look. Had this mafioso just apologized for robbing him? And then given him a compliment??

“You’re welcome. Quite a lovely assortment of flowers, especially for this time of year,” The man continued, gesturing around him with a tiny smile. “What’s your name?”

Will was silent, at a loss for how to respond, brain stuttering from stress and everything he had to process, and he finally managed out, “Ph..philip. Garcia…a-and you are?”

It was what Bill had told him to say, the pseudonym that would keep him safe from getting caught up in the danger of the Mafia- the name he ran his shop under, though he’d ever enjoyed that.

A flash of amusement ran through the other’s features, “Hmm…call me Dipper.”

He let it fall into silence, staring at the shorter male until Will seemed inclined to speak again, “Why are you introducing yourself??”

Will waited for an answer, growing more uneasy the longer he didn’t get one, “Wh-hy are you here? What are you trying to do…you c-can’t get away with this- you won’t.”

Dipper chuckled, “Are you really sure of that? I wouldn’t be, were I you.”

Will gulped slightly, “Th-the police-”

“Are conveniently busy elsewhere and will not be at your disposal for some time,” The criminal interjected smoothly, but through the lighthearted tone, the first signs of hostility showed. “Do you really think they’ll be any help to you at all? You don’t recognize us, then?”

Will swallowed thickly, glancing out the store windows as if searching for help that wasn’t there. “No, why would I…” He muttered quietly, scrambling for words that wouldn’t betray his fear, “B-but others will help me. I-I have friends-”

“Really? That’s quite interesting to hear. Friends in the mafia, no doubt,” Dipper finally glanced away, eyes sweeping over the lovingly arranged displays and briefly to the windows, “Where you you get your stock from, I must wonder? They must have been grown indoors to even be in bloom.”

“I…I-I don’t…” He trailed off, brows knitting together in utter confusion, resisting the urge to reach out and protest as the man took a single sprig of coltsfoot from a larger bouquet, the tiny yellow petals gleaming gold against the silk navy vest, twirling the stem gently between his fingers as he glanced back at the other.

The mirth dropped out of the man’s face and he stepped off to the side as if about to come behind the counter, adding out of the blue, “You’re not used to lying, are you, Mr. Cipher?”

Will blanched, forgetting to try and look brave as he took a tiny step back, “I-I’m not—how-”

“Deduction,” Dipper said simply, “I know what I see and I know what I know. And I know that you look very much like someone I’ve had the displeasure of meeting already.”

Will found he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from cursing aloud- what had Bill done?

“I’m not him,” Will blurted out, “I’m not wh-who you’re looking for…”

“Wrong. You’re exactly who I’m looking for.”

“Wh-what?”

But he had little time to puzzle, jumping as the unnamed girl reappeared, looking, if it were at all possible, even more smug than she had before.

“It was in his bathroom. Quite cleverly hidden, actually,” She grinned, sending a malicious giggle his way as she addressed the other brunet.

And suddenly it seemed to Will that he wasn’t in as much danger, as they appeared to be preparing to leave. A hand gesture had the rest of the men filing out of his door, and he watched, expression still mildly stunned.

Dipper nodded, “Very good- I thought you would be able…” The mafioso’s voice was neutral, even as he lauded his sister, “I’ve spoken with him. He’s a bystander, as I suspected. No need for extra measures.”

“Good. He won’t be a problem, then?”

The woman’s eyes narrowed at the neutral response she gained, and she turned of the other again, filling Will with dread again as she pointed her pistol, “You. Tell the cops if ya want, but don’t you go and be surprised if it doesn’t help. And if anyone else comes asking questions, we didn’t take anything. Understand?”

“Y-yes…” Will nodded quickly, well aware that he wasn’t really in a position to argue, and relaxed a little when she seemed satisfied, turning away to the door.

“Good, cause we’d know either way, bet on it,” The girl chuckled grimly, door creaking as she opened it- but didn’t pass through. She was waiting for Dipper, the man having reached into his trouser pocket.

A small card emerged along with his hand, and Will watched with a cautious curiosity as it was slipped onto the counter.

“Be careful with that. If anyone does come poking around, it would be in both our best interests for you to ring. Trust me.”

No further explanation was given, only the same lingering stare, before Dipper turned away, letting his sister slip her arm into his and pull him out the door without a backwards glance, the two briefly visible in the display windows before they disappeared from sight.

Will was still for a full minute after that, staring after them and glancing around his little store once or twice as if he wanted to make sure everyone was really gone. He pulled in a huge breath of relief and reached for the card, grabbing it and sliding to the floor to calm his frayed nerves.

The back of the card was what he saw first, and it was a telephone address, a single line of numbers written in small, neat hand. He turned it over and let his eyes grow round.

'Gleeful Enterprises’, embossed with silver into the rich blue paper, with the family’s crest stamped into it, off to one side.

Will bit his lip and stood back up, then stumbled out from behind the counter to race upstairs.

He had a horrible feeling that this wasn’t nearly the end of the matter.

But for now, he needed to find Bill.

~~~~~

The twins were silent as they headed back to their car, eyes sharp and on the watch for enemies until they were safely inside, and the vehicle was pulling away from the curb.

“Well, that went absolutely wonderful.”

Mabel was, as usual, the one to strike up conversation as they settled down into the leather-lined cab. Dipper only glanced at her, eyes mostly still fastened onto the shop’s front door until it was far behind them.

“You were marvellous, sister dear,” He praised, with an approving smile as his sister produced a small parcel of letters tied with a string, “Mm-hm,” Mabel grinned triumphantly, handing it over the Gleeful boy, who slipped it into his pocket without looking through it.

“Now I get the rest of the day off- celebrate with me?” Her question was halfway a taunt, because she already knew the answer, and smirked as it was spoken,

“I don’t think I’ll have time,” Dipper’s nose wrinkled at the thought of spending a night in one of the speakeasy’s his sister was fond of attending, “Uncle asked me to take care of an employee who’s been asking questions.”

Mabel gave a light huff, “When do you, gotta ask? You’re telling me you’ll spend the entire night working on that? Pull the trigger and they’re out, problem solved.”

“I’ll have a bit of research to conduct as well. You should know I’ll be setting a few boys on the florist’s place.”

Mabel turned in her seat, regarding her brother with inquisitive skepticism, “Why?”

“Did you think I would have suspected that shop without a reason? Think back to his features and tell me who he reminds you o-”

“Golly,” Mabel breathed, eyes widening for a moment before a smooth smirk slid into her expression, “Now that you mention it…”

“I want to watch him. Closely,” Dipper explained, with an air of industrial indifference.

He didn’t think he would have minded telling her there were other reasons, he’d learned to bear Mabel’s merciless teasing after so long, and she no doubt would have been thrilled to know that she wasn’t the only alone in her legally questionable romantic tendencies…

But he wanted Will to himself for a while, wanted to see what the little florist was made of and what made him special.

“He could be useful to us.”

“I’ll bet. What a patsy,” Mabel snickered a little, “Big brother probably doesn’t tell him a whole lot about the family business, though.”

Dipper hummed, and turned his eyes to the road ahead, sharp eyes flicking over the crowds of people on the street sides, in the cars, bustling in and out of shops or enjoying midday coffee and the editorials- ever alert for the enemy.

“We’ll see.”

#this is technically w #willdip #mafia au #reverse falls #dipper gleeful #will cipher #my writing #watch tumbleweed mobly screw my post over #if this posts twice i'm sorry k

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donutpwns · 8 years ago

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Journey to the Roots - Part 1

\o/ -- Part 2

So this was inspired by some fanart for this au by @illustratedacorns beep and @artsycrapfromsai boop. Go check out both of them, they’re both really great artists.

Her head was pounding; it felt like she’d drank a gallon of Mabel-juice with a Smile Dip chaser and was hitting the critical crashing stage. She groans, struggling to pull the collar of her sweater over her face and escape to Sweater Town until the feeling passed. Her stomach feels like it’s about to turn itself inside out. “Diiiiiipper, I’m dying!” the whine is out before she can even process the thought.

“No clue who Dipper is, kid, but if you’re going to die, could you do it somewhere else?” The voice is oddly familiar but most definitely not that of her brother.

Mabel’s eyes widened and she’s scrambling to get out of Sweater Town. “WHAT?!” her collar tugs down to only cover her mouth; she has to blink rapidly as she looks around where she’s at. She’s—wait, how did she get in the Stanley Mobile? And why was there so much more trash—ooh, new surprise tacos! She reaches to grab one only to have her wrist grabbed by a large hand. Oh. Right. The source of the voice. That was a thing. She traces up the arm, clad in a grimy red jacket that looked like a crime against heat as well as fashion, to the owner of both it and the voice. “WHAT?!” she screams again.

The circles under his eyes are much less pronounced with only the beginnings of crow’s feet at the corners, though they’re currently narrowed at her. His face is unshaven and unwashed; his hair is long and greasy and brown. It’s a little unnerving how much he resembles her dad. He drops her wrist at her second scream and lifts both hands in a telltale ‘no harm’ gesture.

“Easy, kid. You’re the one that broke into my car, if anyone should be screaming, it’s me.” He’s frowning at her before sighing. “Listen, if you’re trying to rob me, you picked the wrong target. I’m broke as they come.”

“Gr-Gr-Grunkle Stan?” her brain is spinning. Why was Grunkle Stan so young? It didn’t make sense. Something weird was going on; Dipper probably had the answer in the journal. No, wait, Grunkle Ford took the journal back. Oh, hey, Grunkle Ford would probably know what was going on.

Stan lifts a bushy brow at her; he’s got the look he gets whenever Dipper comes screaming about a new conspiracy theory. “No clue what a grunkle is, kid, nor how you know my name. But if this is a bit, it’s a weird one.” He reaches over her and opens the passenger side door. “If you work for someone that I owe money, tell them I ain’t gonna be paying up to a kid. Now scram.”

Mabel notices for the first time that the car doesn’t seem to be in Gravity Falls; it’s late at night and they’re parked in a sleazy looking alleyway between two large buildings. The air is icy cold when it hits her face. Gravity Falls doesn’t have any buildings this big. Ohh noooo. “Hot Belgian waffles…” she swears before grabbing the door and slamming it back shut and smashing the lock down. “Nope, nope! Not going out there, nope, hahahaha!” she turns back to Stan and jabs a finger towards him; he barely pulls back in time to avoid a good nose poking. “Younkle Stan! We have some weird stuff going down!”

“Youn—What are you on about?” he’s leaning back, back against the driver side door, twisted at the hips. “Kid, I don’t know you, so whatever you’re after—” he jumps when she scrambles to her knees in the passenger seat and leans super close to him.

This time he can’t escape the nose poke. “You! You’re Stanley Pines, you have a twin brother named Stanford and another brother named Grandpa Shermie—well, Grandpa isn’t part of his name but that’s what Dip Dop and me always called—NOT IMPORTANT!” she has to slam her hands on the middle console to de-distract herself. “POINT! You’re my great uncle but usually you’re all old and junk but now you’re young which, like, is not even close to the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen but it is definitely in the top fifteen, right after the time I found out my favorite boy band was made up of a bunch of clones grown by this real jerk who didn’t let them go outside but then I kinda did the same so—” a hand clamps over her mouth and she’s licking it on pure instinct.

Stan jerks his hand back at the same time she starts gagging; when was the last time he’d washed his hands?! “Holy shit, kid! Slow it down.” He starts wiping his hand on his jeans, which were about as filthy as his jacket. Grooooss. “Okay, okay, so you know more than most of the sharks I owe.” His eyes widen in a realization and it’s Mabel’s turn to jump back when suddenly he has a fist in her face, golden knuckles catching what little light the streetlights give. Wow could he put those on super-fast. “Did they send you to threaten my family? To let me know that you know who they are? Cause I don’t give a shit if they’re a bunch of assholes, nobody messes with my family! You hear that, you little punk?”

Her head’s spinning from so many swears, also the pounding headache that still hasn’t really gone away. Her eyes water before she can really process it because hello Grunkle Stan is threatening to hit her. She gives a loud sniff and mimics his hand gesture from a few minutes ago. “C-c’mon, Grunkle Stan. It’s—it’s me, Mabel! Your favorite great niece?” she pushes on her cheeks, trying to make her eyes as wide and cute as possible. “Don’t you remember me?”

Stan was doing his best to look unimpressed but she can see him cracking. After a moment, he gives a huff and lowers his fist. All the air seemed to deflate from him with the movement; she’s frowning as he slumps so far into the seat that his knees are pressed to the console. He groans, rubbing at his eyes with one hand. Mabel takes that as a good sign to relax. She shifts in her seat so she’s sitting cross-legged, taking the time to tug her sweater over her knees.

Well. This was awkward.

With a sigh of her own, paired with a pout, she reaches for the surprise taco she’d seen earlier. It’s practically grease-glued to the fast food bag it was in; when she finally peels the paper bag away, she sees a receipt similarly stuck to the taco wrapper. She doesn’t recognize the name of the restaurant listed at the top of the nearly translucent paper. Then her eyes fall on the date and she drops the taco entirely.

“81?! Is this taco right, Stan?!” she winces when Stan jumps at her shout, swearing even more at the way his knees banged into the steering wheel. Okay, so maybe she should stop yelling in an enclosed space with someone that didn’t seem to know her. Dipper may have been right about that. Not that she’d ever admit that. She was the Alpha Twin and therefore always right forever. But if this receipt was right, then that meant that Stan hadn’t forgotten her, this Stan hadn’t met her yet!

Stan was rubbing at his knees, frowning. “Of course it’s—how did you not know what year it is?” he’s reaching for her as if to feel her forehead before seeming to think better of it. “Are you, I dunno, sick, kid? I can give you a ride to a…hospital or something. I might have some quarters for you to call your parents?” his hand returns to rubbing at his eyes, “Shit, a kid breaks into your car and you offer her a ride. Going soft, Stanley…”

Mabel leans forward, checking the messy floorboards for a tape measure. She doesn’t remember seeing Blandin or messing with a time device. And wasn’t she with Dipper before…whatever happened? Huh. Now that she thought about it, she couldn’t remember exactly what she was doing before waking up curled up in the front seat of the Stan Mobile. She remembered breakfast with Stan and Dipper; she remembered dressing Waddles in the new sweater she’d made him. She remembered wanting to show Grunkle Ford the new finger puppets she’d made him: one for each of the Mystery family to try to get him to warm up to everyone else. Everything else is fuzzy and makes her head hurt to think about.

“Where are we? Like…are we in Oregon?” she’s hopeful; if she could get back to the Mystery Shack then maybe Grunkle Ford could figure out what was going on. Plus if Dipper was here too that’s where he’d go so that’s where she needed to look for him.

Stan gives a bark of a laugh, “Where—Okay, actually, never mind. I’m going to stop asking questions cause you’ll just scream and start talking nonsense again. Oregon? Nah, Arizona, kid.” His mouth twists for a moment, “…fuck it, one question. What’s in Oregon?”

“Home! Your home, and mine and Dipper’s for the summer. Though I think it’s technically Grunkle Ford’s house but, like, you’ve paid the bills for like thirty years—or you will after—WAIT!” her eyes go wide and she has to slam her hands on the console again. “This is before! Which means you and him haven’t! So maybe if we get there before there doesn’t have to be an after and we can fix everything right now!” she’s grinning, imagining what things will be like if her grunkles were the best friends they were supposed to be because twins are supposed to be the best of friends. Like her and Dipper, they were going to be together forever once she found him again. Yeah! “I need you to take me to Gravity Falls!”

“…did you say that’s where Ford is?” Stan’s face is softer, like when they went fishing with him or when Ford first stepped out of the portal. He shakes his head, the look lost with the gesture, “No. Listen, if you know anything about my family, then you know I’m the last person my brother wants to see.”

“But he’s in danger, Younkle Stan!” she bites her lower lip. When did Bill first start talking with Ford? “Aghhhh, Dipper would know when everything happened.” Her stomach was starting to twist again. Was Dipper okay? Maybe she’d been sent back alone. Oh, he had to be so worried about her. Him and the grunkles and Soos and Wendy. She has to rub at her nose as another loud sniff escapes her. It was hard to be optimistic when she was all alone. “We gotta get to Gravity Falls. We gotta!” she turns her eyes, cute set to full wattage, back to Stan and sticks out her bottom lip.

Stan stares at her for a long moment. He looks down at his lap then pulls down his visor, looking at a tiny map of the United States with most of the states crossed out. Arizona was already crossed out, huh, that was weird. But Oregon wasn’t, score. “…you say Ford’s in trouble? And going there will help you and him?”

Mabel nods so hard that her pounding head threatens to make her puke. “Yup! And my brother, Dipper! He’s my twin, like you and Grunkle Ford. And if I’m here then he’s gotta be here too cause, like, we never time travel without each other or go on adventures alone. So if I’m here he’s probably there cause that just makes sense. Or if he’s not, he will be cause that’s where I’m going so that’s where he’s gotta be going too. Right? Right!”

Stan’s mouth twists again and he drops his head back against his seat. “I really am going soft. Fuck it. Pretty sure there’s no warrants for me in Oregon. And if Ford is in trouble…” he shakes his head before giving Mabel a hard look. “I can’t believe I’m doing this, but fine. I’ll get you to Gravity Falls. But once we’re there and I’m sure Ford isn’t about to keel over, I’m bouncing. You got that, Mabel?”

Another bout of near-puke-inducing nodding. “Right! Thank you so much, Younkle Stan!” she can’t help climbing over the middle console to wrap her arms around his neck, nuzzling him with the force of the hug. “Eee, I get to go on a road trip with Stan! Dipper’s gonna be so jealous when we meet up.”

“Alright, alright, get off.” Stan pushes her back to the front seat, brows furrowed. “There’s no way we’re related.” He sighs before starting up the car. “Whatever. Let’s get this over with.”

-----------------

He’s freezing, cold down to his very bones, with a pounding in his skull. It feels like Bill has put his body through a ringer then locked him in a deep freeze. He groans and tries to push himself up, only to feel his hand go through something insanely cold and wet. His scream is high pitched as he scrambles up, blinking repeatedly to clear his vision. For a moment he thinks he’s gone blind as all he sees is white until he realizes that. Oh. Snow. There’s snow everywhere.

He was on the porch of the Mystery Shack and there was snow everywhere. No wonder he was so cold. He wipes his wet hand on his shorts, eyeing the outline of where he’d stuck his hand through. The snow had drifted nearly halfway up the door, haphazardly cleared like someone had kicked at the snow. Which sounds like something Stan would do; how long had Dipper been outside?

Sudden weather issues and memory issues? Geez, he hoped no one had gotten ahold of the memory gun; that was the last thing he needed. He was going to need to check with Grunkle Ford, see if he’d ever seen something like this before. Also, get something for his head. It was hurting bad enough to make him feel kinda sick, especially when coupled with how cold it was. Definitely not good weather for shorts and a T-shirt. He might have to finally give in and wear one of the sweaters Mabel had made for him.

Wrapping his arms around himself and rubbing at them, he stumbles his way to the front door. When he tries to open the door, however, he finds it locked. That’s…weird. Why would it be locked? Stan’s definition of home safety was a bat and his knuckledusters. Also why would they lock Dipper out? He rolls his eyes; Mabel must be playing a joke on him. “Real funny, Mabel. Yeah, let’s lock Dipper out. We’ll see whose laughing when I sneeze all over you.” He brings his fist down on the edge of the doorframe, “Hey! Let me in, Mabel! It’s cold!”

Instead of Mabel’s grinning face, he’s instead greeted with a crossbow in his face. Another high pitched scream and his sneaker slips on snow when he tries to jump back from the weapon. Cold bites into his butt and thighs; his stomach gives a lurch at the sudden drop. “Wh-wh-wh—”

“Who sent you?! How did you find this place?!” the holder of the crossbow yells at him, poking his head out of the doorway. His eyes are bloodshot, hair sticking out in all directions, and even from a distance Dipper can smell that he hasn’t showered in at least several days. He looks even more tired than Dipper remembers seeing him yesterday, the bags under his eyes deeper and darker than usual. But even with that, and the extreme scruff on his cheeks, he still looks younger.

Ford takes another step out the door and lines up the bolt with Dipper’s head, “I said: who sent you?!”

Dipper put his arms over his head, “Ahh! My name is Dipper Pines! I’m your great nephew, please don’t shoot me!” oh god, he was going to be killed by his grunkle. His idol of the summer was going to kill him with a crossbow. He was going to—wait, why hasn’t a painful but hopefully swift death came yet? He peaks his eyes open; Ford is giving him a suspect look, but the crossbow has been lowered just a bit. “Grunkle Ford?”

Ford scowls and lifts the crossbow again. “Show me your eyes! Your eyes! Before I put a bolt through that stupid hat!”

Eyes—oh! Oh, of course! Dipper pushes up to his feet, trying not to slip while doing so. He uses his hand to push his hair out of his eyes. “Look, see! Normal eyes! No yellow, no slitted pupils! I am not possessed by Bill!” that is apparently the wrong thing to say, as Ford’s eyes go wide and somehow even crazier.

“How do you know who Bill is?!” Ford takes a small step back inside. “This is a trick—a-a shape shifter or-or something. Trust no one, trust no one.”

Dipper lunged forward to try to keep up. “W-wait! I’m not a shape-shifter and I’m not working with Bill! I’m—well, I think I might be from the future, considering this isn’t exactly the Mystery Shack and—listen! I’m Shermie’s grandson!” he’s still shivering, but it’s easier to ignore the cold in favor of not getting locked out by his paranoid grunkle. “If you let me in, you can examine me however you need to prove I’m a normal human.”

Ford narrows his eyes at him for a moment before taking another step back and gesturing towards the inside of the house with the crossbow. He never stopped pointing it at Dipper’s head, but he’d take the victory of not being in the freezing cold.

Dipper was pretty sure he’d never seen the Mystery Shack so messy, bar maybe when Gideon destroyed it or when the zombies attacked. All the fake attractions and souvenirs were gone, replaced instead by piles and piles of books and loose papers. Dipper has to step over a pile of what looked like elongated bones, only bright purple. There’s also lots of drawings of triangles pinned to the walls, most with red Xs drawn across them or Ford’s paranoid mantra of ‘TRUST NO ONE’ written in dripping ink.

Okay, so he’d thought they’d been exaggerating how insane Ford was when they’d told him about the portal accident. This was…concerning. Even Dipper thought this was excessive. He didn’t really like seeing his great uncle like this. The number of times he’d imagined meeting Ford back in the days when he was writing the journals, he’d always pictured him as very similar to the Ford he knew. Excited in the same manic way that Dipper could get when there was a new mystery; fun and ready to play board games when not on an adventure. This wasn’t nearly as fun as he would’ve thought it would be.

Ford was peeking out the blinds even as he kept the crossbow pointed at Dipper. “Take a seat, kid. I have a lot of questions, as you can imagine.”

Dipper casts another look around the living room, eyeing the books that seem to take up every inch of the couch. There’s a stool in the corner, but there’s something that looks like half melted lime Jello on it and dripping down the sides. “Uhh, I’d prefer to stand?” despite the cold, Dipper can feel himself sweating under his collar. He wants to ask for a towel for the rapidly melting snow on his butt or a blanket to fight the still-present cold, but he’s honestly afraid to see what said items would look like given the state of the house and Ford himself.

“What?” Ford looks around, as if just noticing the mess that was his house. He seems to still have a small sense of decency as his cheeks turn a deeper red than just that from the cold and he points the crossbow towards the floor. “Oh, right. That’s—” he clears his throat and raises the weapon once more, “Never mind all that. You said you’re from the future?”

Dipper starts to nod furiously only to stop when it causes the pounding in his head to flare up. Ohhh, yeah, no. Can’t do that. Verbal confirmation then. “Yes! Or, at least, I’m pretty sure this the past. Well, relative to where I’m from, or when I’m from, heh.” He snorts at his own joke—Mabel would’ve loved that— before catching himself and straightening his posture. He mimics Ford’s throat clear, “Ahem, right. Yeah. My name’s Dipper, Dipper Pines. I’m from the year 2012.”

Ford’s frowning that deep frown he always got whenever Dipper first started asking him questions after he stepped through the portal. “There was the anomaly in the time readings a few years ago...my theory that time travel was possible, even though Fidds said…” His voice trails off into something too low for Dipper to hear before clearing his throat yet again. “Right. So, you’re my great nephew from 30 years in the future. Let’s say for the sake of argument that I believe that, given it is theoretically possible and you do bear a passing resemblance to Sherman. What are you doing here?”

Dipper hesitates, trying once more to push through the headache to remember what he’d been doing before waking up on the porch. Stan had made them Stancakes in the morning. Soos had showed him the new parts for version 2.0 of the rocket golf cart that they were going to work on come the weekend. He remembered wanting to show something to Ford and going to punch the code into the vending machine, but he can’t remember actually doing that. His stomach is twisting itself into knots as he tries to chase the memories that seem to be melting away like the snow on his shorts. Something had distracted him. What—

“Easy, kid.” A hand catches his shoulder, halting the swaying he hadn’t realized he’d been doing. Ford looks almost worried as Dipper tries to swallow down the nausea and dizziness that had suddenly taken over. “You’re white as a sheet, kid.”

Dipper shakes his head and takes a deep breath. What’s wrong with him? “I’m fine. I just can’t—I don’t remember how I got here.” McGucket hadn’t mentioned anything about physical side effects of the memory gun, just the affect it had on long-term memory retention. Why did he feel so sick trying to remember what had happened? He pats his pockets to make sure he didn’t have Blandin’s tape measurer again. Aside from some chewed up pens and a wadded up scrap of paper with ‘Wendy Pines’ written enough times to make his neck burn, he comes up empty. “I think I was talking with Mabel and—Mabel!”

He pushes past Ford, who lets out a very owl-like squawk as he nearly drops the crossbow, and rushes to the door. A blast of cold air hits him in the face—okay Outside was definitely colder than Inside— when he swings the door open, forcing him to squint as he scans the yard. How could he forget to check for Mabel? Oh god, if she was still unconscious in the snow…

The only tracks in the snow are from him and a kicked path that leads to a sign with big bold “STAY OUT” letters on it and barbwire on top of it. At the edge of the yard he can see what looks like rabbit tracks, but otherwise it’s all a blanket of untouched white. No other tracks and no Mabel-sized lumps. That’s both a relief and not. Dipper cups his hands around his mouth, “Mabel! Mabel, are you out there?!” his voice cracks on a yelp when a hand closes around his shoulder again, jerking him back into the house. He’s shoved back, nearly tripping over the pile of bones that seem to glow when his sneaker touches them. “Gah, Great Uncle Ford!”

Ford pulls the door closed and proceeds to lock a fairly frightening number of deadbolts. He’s got the manic look back on his face; his glare is enough to dry up Dipper’s indignation at being manhandled. “Calm down! Who the hell is Mabel?”

“Who—she’s Mabel!” he’s exasperated for a moment before, oh, right, past. It’s so weird to think of anyone not knowing who Mabel is at this point, what with the way that she seems to just be all the time. “She’s my sister; my twin. If I’m here, that means she’s probably here too. I’m pretty sure we were together before…before whatever happened.” He digs his fingers in his hair under his hat, still trying to fight past the headache and the nausea to remember what happened to his sister. “Ughhhh, why can’t I remember?! I had breakfast with her and Stan and then I wanted to talk to you about something but she was there and then—”

“Did you say Stan?” Ford’s voice cut through his own mania; he looks up at him to see a mix of anger and something soft warring on his uncle’s face. Apparently Ford has deemed him a non-threat as the crossbow has been hung up next to the door. “You know who Stan is?”

Dipper’s brow furrows before he remembers what Stan and Ford had told them. About their fight and the not seeing each other for ten years and then for thirty years because of the portal and the burn on Stan’s shoulder—Moses, Dipper had bugged Stan so much about that he was the worst— and the way the two glared at each other whenever they were forced to be in the same room. This was before the portal accident.

Dipper nods, rubbing at his arms. “I mean, yeah. He’s your twin brother. Mabel and I were staying with him for the summer.” He leaves it vague, not sure how much he should tell. You’d think after the thing with Waddles and epic Time Laser Tag he’d know how to handle being in the past. Plus the idea of telling Ford about him being trapped for thirty years hopping through dimensions makes him feel extra super sweaty.

Ford gives a huffing sort of a snort, “Your parents left you two with Stan? Once this is all done I’ll need to have a talk with Sherman about teaching his kids some sense.” He says it so casually, like it’s a practiced thing to dismiss Stan, and that irks Dipper a little but he keeps his mouth shut. Ford sighs and runs a hand through his hair; further messing it up if that was even possible. “Time traveling niblings. That’s gotta be too crazy, even for Bill…maybe. Damn it, all my notes about the time anomaly are in…Journal…”

It’s apparently Ford’s turn to sway. Dipper realizes, as Ford stumbles back against the door and begins slipping down the surface, that he might not be the only Pines that worked himself until he passed out. And if Ford paid as much attention to eating and sleeping as he did to his personal hygiene, then they were in all kinds of trouble. Dipper moves forward to try to prop his uncle up but only really manages to marginally slow down his descent to the floor where he proceeds to promptly start snoring.

Oh geez.

#gravity falls #timetrapped AU #timestuck AU #mabel pines #dipper pines #stanford pines #stanley pines #kainichivonwrites #fanfiction #fanfic #journey to the roots

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fallen-gravity · 5 years ago

Text

Scars, Show Me All The Scars You Hide

Ford and Mabel have a talk about blame, and how too much of it can cause the heart pain.

Alternatively,

Mabel tells Ford about her encounter with Bill prior to the start of Weirdmageddon.

AO3

Everything is peaceful.

Ever since the town had been cleansed of any and all evidence that Weirdmageddon had happened at all, the small town of Gravity Falls seemed to sigh a breath of relief for the first time in decades. The birds were chirping away as the clouds from an earlier rainfall were beginning to clear. The whole atmosphere of the town still smelled of rainfall, and it seemed that half of the town’s population was out for a walk to enjoy it. Everyone in town seemed friendlier to each other, too. It was near-impossible to come across a sidewalk unoccupied by groups of people gathered in messy circles to talk.

The Shack was booming with business, far more than the morning after Gideon’s arrest. Also in great contrast was the fact that those who were stopping by the shack had little interest in tours, rather to come in to meet the family that saved the town from utter destruction. Stan had already gotten far more than his fair share of aggressive handshakes and teary-eyed hugs from citizens who’d lived in town their whole lives, while Ford stood off to the side, watching them with a quiet fondness, finally understanding what his brother had meant when he told them the Shack had been a fundamental part of the town’s history. When they had first argued over the deed to the Shack, Ford had just thought he’d been exaggerating, but it was moments like those, as well as the times he would be mistaken for Stan in public, that really opened his eyes to how much the people of this town really loved the place, and, more importantly, how much these people loved his brother.

Today might be the first lull the Shack’s seen in a solid month, and Stan had made the decision to close up shop to spend time with the family before Dipper and Mabel had to head off back home. They’d spent the entire early afternoon together, playing dumb games and watching dumb movies, and now, for the first time today, they were all off doing their own thing. It wouldn’t last, they knew, but they also couldn’t argue against the fact that sometimes comfortable silence was one of the warmest feelings on Earth.

Stan’s taking a nap on the back porch, Dipper’s in the kitchen scribbling things down in a blank notebook Ford had gifted him when he was offered the apprenticeship, and Ford was down in his basement lab, cleaning up the last of the rubble of the portal he and Stan had taken baseball bats to the night prior.

Mabel….

Mabel is pacing back and forth in the living room, stuck wondering why if everything is so peaceful and perfect, just like she’d dreamed things would be, that something still felt...off to her. Not in the sense that she’d forgotten something, or that things shouldn’t be all peachy keen, it’s more along the lines of something that’s wrong with her specifically.

She knew it couldn’t be a lack of sleep, because she’d fallen asleep in Grunkle Stan’s lap during one of the movies earlier. It could be that she’s sad to be leaving in a week, she supposes, but no, they hadn’t been talking much about her and Dipper’s departure lately, and she’d already made both Stan and Ford pinky promise her that the two of them could spend the following summer in Gravity Falls, so that couldn’t be it either…

“Mabel?” Dipper asks, startling her out of her thoughts, and she freezes in her pacing. He’s carrying his notebook under one arm, and his favorite blue pen is poking out of his hair from behind his ear. Nerd. “Is everything okay?”

“I don’t know…” Mabel admitted, rubbing at her arm. “I know that everything’s all sunshine and rainbows now that Bill’s gone for good, but I don’t feel like sunshine and rainbows”

“Oh, Mabel…” Dipper frowned, placing his book on the armrest of Stan’s chair. “Is it because we’re leaving so soon? I know Stan already promised us we could stay here whenever we needed, but I thought you missed Mom and Dad”

“I do miss them!” Mabel shot her arms in the air. “I miss everyone at home. But I don’t think that’s what’s bugging me so much”.

Dipper frowns, and takes a seat in Stan’s chair, indicating he wasn’t going to leave the room until he could figure out what was bugging her himself. “Well...what do you think it is?”

“I don’t know!” Mabel whined, bringing her hand to her forehead as if she had a bad headache. “I’m thrilled that everything’s okay, I’m thrilled that Stan and Ford are best friends again, and I’m thrilled that we get to come back next summer, but I...can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong. I haven’t been able to since the morning Stan woke up with his memories intact”

“Mabel, that was two days ago!”

“I know, I know…” Mabel begins pacing again. “But I just thought that it was just cause I was so stressed he was gonna relapse again, or that something else terrible was gonna happen, or-”

The small crunch of a piece of paper interrupts her before she can finish her train of thought, and when she looks down to see what she’d stepped on she realizes it’s an early draft of the invitation cards for her and Dipper’s birthday party.

Her face goes pale at the sight.

“Mabel, are you okay?” Dipper stands to reach out for her shoulder. “You’re not looking too hot…”

“I know what it is” she says, before he can touch her, and he retracts his hand.

“You do? Can you tell me?”

Mabel takes a few looks around the room to make sure that they’re alone.

“Follow me,” she says, but then she grabs Dipper by the hand and runs up the stairs to their attic bedroom.

“Mabel, what’s happening?” Dipper asks her as she locks the room behind her. “You’re acting a lot like...me”

“It’s all my fault”

“What? What’s all your fault?”

The concern in her brother’s tone makes her choke up for reasons she can’t describe. “Weirdmageddon”, she shutters. “It’s all my fault”.

“What?” Dipper’s voice squeaks, which makes Mabel flinch. “Mabel, don’t say that! Of course it’s not your fault!”

“Yes it is,” she mopes, and plops herself down onto her bed. “Bill came after me when I ran into the woods, and I gave him that weird snow-globe looking thing.” She buries her face in her pillow, but she doesn’t wait for her brother to respond before she keeps going. “It wasn’t out of anger, or anything, I swear. He possessed that Blendin guy and promised me an eternal summer in exchange, and I handed it over because I’m a big dummy dumb, and everyone got hurt because I thought I wanted time to freeze forever so we wouldn’t have to be apart”

For a brief moment there’s silence, but then Dipper’s hand on her shoulder. When she pulls her face out of her pillow to look at him, it’s all wet and gooey. “Mabel, are you kidding? I thought the rift shattered in your backpack. I thought for sure it was because you tripped, and everything exploded out of your backpack. I thought you were a goner”.

Mabel sniffles, but she doesn’t respond.

“Mabel, your story is so much better than the ones I was making up in my head. I mean, I wish Bill had never tracked you down at all, but I’m so glad you weren’t hurt.” He pulls her into a hug. “Great Uncle Ford and I were just talking about this the other morning, Mabel. He was worried sick that he’d hurt you taking it by force”

“You’re…” she stutters, returning the hug. “You’re not mad?”

“Of course not” he shakes his head. “I meant what I said in Mabeland. Whatever happens, we get through it together”.

She giggles and pulls away from the hug, wiping at her face with her sleeves. “But...what about Grunkle Ford?”

Dipper shakes his head. “You should tell him too. He’s gonna be understanding, Mabel, he already knows how much Bill had it out for us personally”

That’s...true, she supposes, shuttering at the memory of her and Dipper offering themselves up as bait so Bill wouldn’t kill their Grunkles. She stands to exit the room, gives her brother one more hug for good luck, and and repeats Dipper’s words to herself the entire way down the staircase and into the gift shop. The stairs to the basement are propped open, which she assumes is because Ford no longer feels he needs to keep its location a secret. She makes her way down slowly, partly out of nerves and partly to avoid spooking Ford.

He’ll understand, she says to herself one last time as she exits the elevator. Ford’s sitting at the work desk, and the view of the portal in the next room is blocked off with a curtain. He’s hunched over, just a little bit, and Mabel figures it’s probably because he’s writing something in one of the journals. It’s only as she approaches him that she realizes he’s not wearing his trench coat, because she can tell that he rolled the sleeves of his sweaters up to make for easier writing.

“Grunkle Ford?” she asks, knocking lightly on the machine closest to her right in case calling his name isn’t enough to snap him out of his focus.

“Mabel!” his response is cheery, and he places a bookmark on the page he’d been working on and closes the cover. “What brings you down here?”

“Well, I...guess I wanted to talk to you about something”.

“Sure, anything” he grins, patting at his pant leg in invitation to come sit on his lap. Mabel sighs, tries to think for a moment about how she can place things lightly, and takes Ford up on his offer. She crawls up onto his lap, opens her mouth to speak, and freezes when she notices that his wrist is covered in cuts and blistering scars. A quick glance at the other wrist and she’s met with the same sight.

“Grunkle Ford?” is all she can manage, and her eyes follow hers to the scars on her wrist.

“Oh!” he replies, much cheerier than she’d expected him to, and rolls his sleeves back down. “I’m going to be fine, sweetie, those will heal in due time”.

“What happened to you?” she looks up at him with her signature puppy eyes. “How recent are these?”

From her spot on his lap, Mabel can feel Ford’s chest rise and fall as he sighs quietly. “You have to promise me you won’t tell Stan,” he says, rubbing delicately at his wrist. Mabel nods silently, and his eyes fall to the ground to avoid eye contact with his niece.

“Bill did this to me. When he was demanding that I give him the codes to undo the bubble around the town, he chained me by my arms and legs and fried me until I talked. I’m so sorry that you had to come across them by accident, but, uh, I’m grateful that you saw them today, rather than earlier. I nearly threw up when I saw them for the first time after I was freed”

Mabel’s breath hitches, and she’s tearing up. It’s getting harder and harder to convince herself that It’s not your fault could be a true statement when everyone she cares about is getting hurt by it. Bill fried him. Bill chained him up and fried him, and if the scars on his wrists are just from the chains, she can’t even begin to imagine what the scars must look like under the rest of his sweater. He must be completely disfigured from the neck down, if she knows anything about Bill. He’d tried to kill her two other times prior to Weirdmageddon, but those were over much less risky things than control over the whole universe.

She throws herself against Ford’s sweater in a fit of choked sobs, and his arms are around her before she can even finish processing that she’s crying again.

“There, there, Mabel” Ford’s voice is cool and collected, but tinged with sadness to see her break down like this for the second time in three days. He rubs gentle circles into her back, quietly shushing her sobs, and the tender gesture of it all just makes Mabel cry even harder. “It’s okay, Mabel. You’re okay. You’re safe. I’m safe, thanks to you”. He gently pats her hair, and Mabel sniffles as she pulls away. Ford keeps his hand where it is, at the top of her head, and she hates how much of a grounding feeling it is.

“It’s not okay!” She yells, and more tears pour down her face. “You’re hurting! Bill could’ve killed you!” she gasps for air. “If we had shown up just five minutes later than we did, you could’ve been a goner!” She takes his other wrist, which was still wrapped around her to prevent her from falling off of his lap, and rolls it up to reveal the identical scar he’d just covered up moments ago. “These look worse than the time I pulled a tray of cupcakes out of the oven with my bare hands cause I was too excited to wait for them! I thought I was never gonna feel anything ever again!” She cries.

“Mabel, sweetie…”

“No!” she cries. “I don’t deserve to be called that. It’s all my fault he hurt you.” Her sobs quiet as her body seems to double-whammy her and send her into a panic attack, trembling uncontrollably against Ford’s chest. “It’s my fault”

There’s a gentle six-fingered hand on her cheek, and she looks up to warm brown eyes staring into hers with heartbroken worry. “It’s not your fault, my dear, Bill and I have a really complicated history together. Nothing you could’ve done would’ve changed that”

“That’s exactly my point! Bill may not have acted any differently, but I still could’ve!”

“What do you mean?”

Mabel wipes away her tears with her wrist again.

“It’s my fault everything happened in the first place. I’m the reason Bill got his hands on the...uh...rift, I think Dipper called it” she sniffles. “Bill caught up to me when I was all upset in the woods about arguing with Dipper, and told me he could fix things if I gave it to him, and I-”

She’s cut off by Ford’s hug around her tightening, like she just unlocked a set of keywords that’d make him never want to let go of her again.

“Mabel, I want you to listen to me very carefully”

She doesn’t say anything, but squeezes him in silent confirmation to let him know she’s still listening.

“Nothing that happened was your fault, okay? I need you to understand how genuine that statement is. It wouldn’t matter if Bill convinced you to smash the rift into the ground yourself. It wouldn’t matter if you handed it over without question, or if you shook his hand.”

“But-”

“Let me finish” he cuts her off, but the soft nature in his tone lets her know he isn’t upset. “Mabel, it doesn’t matter who said or did what because this is exactly how Bill liked to play his games. He knew you wouldn’t be thinking straight, he knew you wouldn’t question anything he asked you to do.” he reaches under his glasses to wipe at his own eyes. “He did the same thing to me when I was younger, Mabel. I called him my best friend. He convinced me to hang onto every word he ever said without giving them a second thought”

He pulls her away from the hug so he can look her in the eyes again. “You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever encountered in any dimension, Mabel. Don’t blame yourself for the mistakes I made when I was younger. If there’s anyone that should be blamed for the whole ordeal besides Bill, it should be me.”

“Grunkle Ford, don’t say that!”

He laughs quietly, bitterly. “I should have told you about the rift earlier, Mabel. I’m sorry I kept it a secret from you”

“It’s okay,” she replies. “I know that you were just trying to keep me safe. Stan had to keep a lot of things from me, too”.

“No kidding…” Ford’s voice drifts off, which makes Mabel painfully aware of the fact she was currently holding a conversation with one of said things. He shakes his head. “Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that pitting all of the blame on yourself isn’t going to do you any good.” He rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck. “...Stan and I had to learn that one the hard way. If you focus too much on the idea that all you’ve done is hurt people, you miss out on all of the times you’ve done good for other people.”

He smiles warmly.

“Dipper told me you were the one who stopped the portal from shutting down. I’m not sure I’d even still be alive if it weren’t for you. You’ve done so much good for the people you care about that anything else is nonexistent in comparison. You’re a wonderful person, Mabel, inside and out. If there ever were a person out there who truly was pure of heart, I can say in all honesty that I think it’d be you”.

Mabel’s on the verge of crying again. She throws herself at him in another hug, and he’s quick to hug her back.

“You’re a wonderful person too, Grunkle Ford. I don’t want you to forget that either”.

If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear she could hear him sniffle at the remark.

#my writing #gravity falls

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steampunk-magicalgirl · 8 years ago

Text

I ship it!

Alright guys! It seems like we unfortunately won’t be getting any big celebration for TAU’s birthday this year. That doesn’t stop me from celebrating it in my own way though, so here’s a fanfic thats been sitting in my head for about two years now, enjoy!

(Also, just a note, Timothy is a r!Henry)

on ao3

Timothy Jackson, 15 years old was, in their own opinion, one of the best writers that had ever been born on planet earth! They had written both comedies and tragedies, made people of all ages both laugh and cry, and now, finally, their latest work had been completed. In just a few minutes it would be posted online for the world to see, and Timothy would finally receive all the praise and glory that they knew they deserved. Anticipation filled the room as Timothy carefully typed out the words that would make up the summary of the story.

‘Human! Alcor, human! Woodsman, high school-coffee shop au!’ they wrote ‘When a young student named Alcor looks for a new job in the town’s coffee shop what will happen when he meets his new super handsome manager? Will their love blossom despite the rest of the cruel world’s disapproval? Read to find out.’

They did not add the classic ‘fic better than summary’ comment that most authors liked to use. They knew they didn’t need it, Timothy’s summary was perfect! Just like the rest of their carefully crafted masterpiece. Sure, Woodcore might not have been the most popular ship around at the moment, but surely that would change as soon as people read this fanfic. Alcor and The Woodsman were perfect together, they knew it! People just needed a little help to realize what Timothy had already seen long ago.

They smiled to themselves as they pressed the button for publishing stories and made their hard work public. As soon as the story appeared on the screen Timothy refreshed the page to see if they´d gotten any reviews. When they hadn’t they refreshed again, and again, and again until their cat Mason decided to jump up on Timothy’s desk and sit in front of the computer screen, effectively blocking Timothy’s view in the process.

“Mason get down!” Timothy ordered, however the cat didn’t even seem fazed at all, in fact it simply laid down in front of the computer and started to lick at its paws, Timothy sighed and moved out of their chair to pick Mason up and carry him out of the room. As soon as Timothy and Mason walked out into the hallway they were met by Timothy’s mom.

“Oh hello darling” she said “I was just about to ask you if you wanted to help me make dinner?”

“What are we eating?” Timothy asked her, “We’re making hamburgers.” Their mom answered “I thought you might want to help me fry them…”

“YES I DO!” Timothy happily exclaimed, and soon all thoughts of going back to the computer to refresh the page again were forgotten in favour of making dinner with mom, and when Timothy finally got back to their room after the meal they simply turned off the computer, and went to sleep.

----------------

The next day after school Timothy threw their bag onto the bed as soon as they got home and eagerly logged on to their computer. Surely somebody had to have read their fic by now. They probably had a million kudos, maybe even a few reviews! Oh how they wished somebody was there so they could share their excitement, but Mason was nowhere to be seen at the moment, although that was probably a good thing considering what had happened yesterday. Timothy´s heart raced as they opened up the site where they posted all their fanfics, and just as they thought, somebody had left a review! Oh this was perfect, everything Timothy had always wanted would soon be delivered to them, all the glory and praise that the Twin Souls fandom could offer was just a click with the mouse away! Timothy opened up the review…. And their heart sank

‘umm not to be rude but this was kind of awful, I almost feel sorry for you! Alcor was just so out of character and I found at least a thousand spelling errors. Again I don’t want to be an asshole but I think you should practice you´re writing more before you publish anything, just some friendly advice lol! Then again, what would you expect from someone who writes woodcore? Micor is just so much better, plus it´s cannon‘

Timothy was shocked, how could somebody say that to them? After all their hard work, this was it? Was this really how the fandom would remember them? Just another failed author like so many others before them? No that couldn’t be it, obviously this person didn’t know what they were talking about. After all they seemed to believe that Micor was somehow superior to Woodcore. Their bad taste had to be reason why they were being so rude, people just couldn’t accept that Timothy’s fic was better than cannon, and thus they got mad at them. That had to be it, that had to be the reason, Timothy decided! Well then, if they wouldn’t accept a ship unless it was cannon, then it was a good thing that Timothy was such a good matchmaker… at least in their own opinion.

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Dipper was bored, and considering that he was an ultra-powerful demon who could alter reality at his will and make anything he wanted (well almost anything) happen with a snap of his fingers, that was really saying a lot. So when he felt the familiar tug of a summons, one that felt vaguely like he should already know the summoner, he didn’t hesitate to follow it! It felt too weak to be Mizar summoning him. He thought that maybe Cassie had managed to find his circle again and needed some homework help, or maybe it was a cult that had summoned him before that he´d just forgotten about, however he wasn’t prepared for what actually met him the moment he appeared over the circle. He was in somebody´s bedroom. That much was obvious from the bed standing behind him and the posters on the walls and, oh God was that a Twin Souls movie poster? Dipper immediately felt on edge, as he looked down to face whoever had summoned him, and was once again taken aback at what he saw. The child was young, probably in their mid-to-late teens, they had dark skin and bright blue hair, and was wearing a white dress shirt and black slacks (Dipper had to admit, they had good taste in fashion), but what really caught the demons attention was the antlers crowning their head.

“w̞͚̕hy̤̟̖̬̝͜ ̡͔̞̤h̢͓ͅa̶͖̻͖v̵̗̻̞͉̘e͢ ̸̹̳̱̪ͅy͔̜͞o̠̘u̢͖̫ ̯̺͕͍̦͙ͅsư͖̯̯̠̭͔m̰̼̪̭̺̱̖m͢o̷n̻̘e̘͔̗̳̲͟d͏͕͖̩̖ ̼̮̥͚͚͙̦͘m̥̺̤̣̯̘e̸͈ͅ?” Dipper asked, because this child might have his brothers’ soul, but they also had Twin Souls posters on all their walls and Dipper didn’t want to take any chances.

“Oh great, hot and powerful Alcor!” the child spoke “I have summoned you here because I wish to help aid you in your great quest for love!”

…. Okaaaay that was weird and not at all what Dipper had expected. The shock must have been visible on his face, because the child looked worriedly at him and asked

“Is everything okay Al? You don’t look very good, are you sick?”

Dipper just sighed.

”l͚͓̟̱̻̠o̪͎ok̺̣̰̭ ͚̫ki̘̥̮̮͕d̩̱̘͚̫̘̬” Dipper began, “I ̹d̠͈o ̱͕̳̪̮͇̲n͕͕̩̖͙o͍̻̠̝̳t̠̻̫̻̳̳ ̬͇̭̬̪͎n̹ee͙̰̲d̬ ̖̺̯y͈͙͚͈o̭̪̯̘̰u̺̺r ̻̤ͅͅh̗͔͉̠̣̘e̺̪̲̞lp̣̭,̹̼̤̥ ̤͍̮̰̺I̲͖͕̫̲̮ ͙͈̝a̪͎͔̲m̼͚̼̝̯ ̗̭̬̘͕̣̰n̲͙o͓̺ͅt ͙͇͓̻̖͚͓i̬̻̤̗̳n̞͙v͍̖̭͎̖̘̱o͇l̙v̙̥̬̝͔͙̹e̞̥̹̞͚d̳͔̯ ͉͎̫̘̫͔͈i͍̲n̦̖̪͔̥̗ ̪͙̰̜a̮̜̲͎͇̯ny̗̣ͅ

ġ͉r̼͎̘̩̰e̟̹͇͛ͥą̒̔̊̌t͙̙ͨͪͮ͗ ̖̮̦̝̙̐̓͆́qͭ̓̋̔ͯͮu̺ͨͮ̏ͬ̉ͅě͓̘̱̰͈̼s̻̭̹͗̊t͆̆ͣ̐͛̾͛̕ ̳̗̩̓̓̌ͫf̭͔͔̼̟̗̞ͭ̃̃̽̒̕o̢̭̲̙̻̻̣ͯͦ̔̏͐r͙̉ͯ͛̒͠ ̖̌ͤl̻̻͖ͯ̂ͮ̊̔̚ȏ͍̟̅̓͗͟v̸̠̹̾̇e͇͕̠̝̦͌̈́͆͊͑̽ a̘͈̭͖̣̰n̥͓̳̱̳͓̝d̖̯͈ ̲̼n̺̯̦o̠. ̜̗Iț͙̙̫´̗̦s͍̘̹͇ ̗͓̪͕n͕o̬͓t͇̥̳̫ͅ ̪b̼̞e̟̳̞̺͎̥c͇͙̥̱̻̬͎aṵ̥͕͎se̦̺̘ ̤̬̮͚͙̞M͕̯͉͚̙̤̩i͈̜̞z̲͉̱̖̝͇͎a̤r͓͔̜̬̗̟̞ a̟͍͖͎̫͈n̺̤͉͔̪d͔͍̟̜̗̭͚ ̖̻I̟̪ a̮r̳̞ͅe͕̳͚ ̹̲̭̩͖͍͖a̪̖̞͔̥͖ͅl̙͍r̭e̝̼͈̥a̙̝͉͈ḍ̩y̭̭̺͎̯̖ ̱̦̮̣͚͎̟d̪̼̻̼a̞̥̫̞̙̳͎t̙̼̲i͕̩̲̼̗̻̳n̦̗͚̥̹g̮͉̬͎͙ ͈̩͔in͓̯ ̫͎̤f͔ͅac͍̝̗̺͇ṭ̩̠̟ ̼͎̭̰̞I´͔m͈̝̜̘̦̬̻ ̱̫n̮͙͔̘̺̖͚o͍͎͕͓̪t̰͚̣̯̠ ͚̮̜̩̖e͙v̩̣̝ͅe̘̺̰n̪̣̭ ̩͎̣͕i͚͈̖n̲̹̘t̜̖͙̜ͅͅͅer͓̭̪͙͈̱͎e̜s͚̠̻t̻̯͇͈̘e̦̖̫d͕̥ i̮̥̮ͅn̤̣̲̦̲̬̺-”

The child cut him off before he could finish his sentence

“pffft I know that! As if you and Mizar could ever be a real couple. It’s so obviously not happening, I don’t even get why people bother to ship you two in the first place.”

Well that was DEFINITELY not what Dipper had expected. Just a few moments before he’d been ready to just leave and get out of there as fast as possible, but he was now curious, perhaps this child did have something worthy of his time to offer after all (and even if not, just spending some time with his brother would be nice)

“Okay ̴th̀en,̡ t͜e͢ll̴ m̕e ̕Eͮ͊X̅͊ͯͪ͗̓A̔͂̐̿̋Ċ̛̓̓T̨ͣ̀̏̓L̀ͧ͌Y̅͋͑ͩͭ wh̨at y͞o̡u w̢ant.̵” ̂ͥ̆̿̚Dipper demanded, adjusting his position in the air so that he was floating cross-legged above the circle.

“Easy,“ the child said with a confident and knowing expression on their face “I know who you really love. And I´m guessing you haven’t confessed to him yet because you’re too shy. So, I´m offering to help coach you, trust me I’m great at encouraging people, and in return you could… uh, I dunno, make sure the fandom knows you love him I guess? And put an end to Micor ones and for all, what do you say?” the child took a step forward and reached out their hand to Dipper, seemingly ready to shake on it. Dipper had to admit that their offer was tempting, he´d love to see Micor shippers finally realize that it wasn’t cannon and leave him alone, however there was one detail in what the child had said that was bothering him

“And̕ ͠w͝h͢o, i̴f҉ ̴I ͝mąy̵ aşk, ͜is ̨i͝t t̷hat ͠you ̷thìnk̢ ҉I͏ ͞l̸o͠ve̴?”

The child grinned at him

“The Woodsman of course!” they exclaimed and nooooooo, nope not doing this, Dipper was so DONE with this!

“u̷͘m̨m͏͞ ̵̸y͢͏e͘͏a̵h͏̢,͟ ̴̨t̛h͘͠a̷͠͝t̡̀̕´̸s̛͟..͡.̡̛ ̛͜N͏̀͡o̡҉͏t̡̕͠ ̶̀h̨͠͞a͘҉̡p̡̧p̀͝é́n̵̡i͞n͞g̵̕.͘ ̷͏S̷o̧r҉r̕͜y͏̷̨ ̢́k͟i̛͠d͏̴͘!̧” “But wait!” the child cried out in shock, but Dippers form was already getting blurry, and before they could say more, he vanished.

Well so much for spending time with his brother. Oh well, there´d be more chances, hopefully Henry’s next incarnation wouldn’t be as weird as this one.

----------------

Timothy stared in disbelief at the circle where Alcor had been floating just moments earlier. Why had he left? Did Timothy say something wrong? He probably got overwhelmed by happiness when Timothy understood his feelings, and got so confused he had to leave and gather his thoughts. Or maybe just being summoned like this finally gave him the courage to confess his love, and he left to do it immediately! That had to be it, totally!

Timothy smiled proudly to themselves, knowing that they had been able to help Alcor with his love problems. And now all that was left to do was wait for the demon to make his affair public, in the meantime though, Timothy had more fanfics to write, and this summoning had given them the perfect fic idea. It would require some really good writing skills to get it perfect though. Oh well, good thing Timothy was such a good writer…

… In their own opinion!

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zalgo transcriptions for those who need it:

"why have you summoned me?" "I do not need your help, I am not involved in any great quest for love, and no it's not because Mizar and I are already dating in fact I'm not even interested in-" "okay, then tell me EXACTLY what you want" "and who, if I may ask, is it that you think I love?" "umm yeah that's... not happening. Sorry kid"

#gravity falls #transcendence au #gravity falls transcendence au #dipper pines #henry pines #My writing #fanfic

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