#Sorry Dipper you made it pretty obvious what was going on
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Have a very long post with many dumb jokes and also pornblography! I do not have a title for it yet because my brain is very bad and titles are hard.
Again, NSFW! And it's just about 16k words so beware of Long Post.
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Dipper shoves himself out of the water, shaking mud out of his hair. He coughs, twice, then gasps, sucking in the air.
Did it work-?
He struggles to his knees, churning up the muddy silt from the lakebed, and looks over towards the treeline.
Smoke from the explosion drifts over the treetops. The forest is rife with birds flying away and scattering animals, the fire low in the distance - And judging by the state of the beach, uh.
There’s a jumble of stuff that looks like charred driftwood. Until you look at it closer.
Dipper sits back, water sloshing around his waist. He lets out a slow, shaking breath.
Yeah. It worked.
The other monstrous mess on the shore is standing among the wreckage. Intact, smug, handsome. Other adjectives that are less flattering.
And he’s doubled over laughing.
“You shoulda seen it!” It wasn’t that funny, damn it. Absolutely not knee-slappingly funny, but try telling that to this asshole. Bill does it again, cackling. “You took off so fast it was like-” He makes a gesture that might be a fish leaping, or a particularly inelegant human flailing in an arc. “And the landing!”
Dipper lifts a hand from the muck to flip him off. Not very seriously; he’s too relieved that it’s over with to get truly mad.
A stupid insane plan. An effective plan. Not entirely Bill’s idea, though he went along with it easily enough; he loves danger.
Though Dipper’s pretty sure Bill’s contribution to the explosive curse could have been at least halved. It’s something to keep in mind for later.
He gets up slowly, wiping off the mud and what water he can from himself. Trudging to the shore, wringing out his shirt. Now he really needs a shower.
Bill glances over him, hands on his hips. “You look like a drowned rat.”
Dipper gives his husband the same lookover, slowly, to make a point. “You look like a burned one.” Bill’s suit is almost entirely ruined. “With jaundice.”
Bill makes a mock gasp of offense, clasping a hand to the remnants of his shirt. It’s quickly followed by the resurge of the grin.
“It mighta messed up my style a bit, sure.” Bill says with a shrug. The remnants of the yellow suit jacket cling to his elbows, and his hair’s a mess. “Yet somehow, I’m still better dressed!”
“That’s a matter of taste.” Dipper shakes his feet, trying to get some of the clinging water out of the cuffs of his pants. He knocks his shoes against the ground to clear some mud off. “Yours is bad.”
“This coming from the guy rocking ‘slime monster from the deep’.” Bill shakes his head. “That went outta style in the fifteen hundreds, easily.”
Dipper narrows his eyes, stalking closer until they could almost touch. He leans in, very close - Bill matches it, beaming with pleasure.
And with a satisfying ‘smack’, Dipper plants a palmful of mud right on his smug, asshole face.
Bill splutters, and Dipper trails muck down his body in a straight line. One heading right from his stupid face, down over all the clean bits of his shirt.
“I dunno, Bill.” Dipper says, taking a step back as Bill’s expression turns from surprise to absolute indignance. Now he’s the one smiling. “I think it suits you.”
Bill blinks for a moment. Mud dripping off his chin, annoyance sliding off his face.
His grin switches back on, wide and white.
“Oh, you’re gonna get it for that insult,” He purrs. Dipper tries to dart back, but Bill already has a grip on his waist. “Come here.”
Dipper kicks his legs, he struggles and he swears - This impossible, terrible monster picks him up again, swinging him around.
And he’s laughing, despite all of that, when Bill dunks him right back into the lake.
When they walk back to the Shack together, it’s long into the evening. The sun’s gone down, and the last bit of red is fading from the horizon.
Bill swings their joined hands, humming a tune to himself. The other one lights up the way back, a bright blue flame over his palm.
“Gotta love a good date,” He says, sounding deeply self-satisfied. The pace he’s taken is fast enough to make Dipper speedwalk. “It’s been too long!”
“You’ve been busy,” Dipper reminds him, nudging his husband with an elbow. Some crusted mud flakes off at the contact.
Bill breathes in, looking like he’s about to retort. Then sighs.
“Yeah, fine. Gotta give ya that one.” Bill’s mouth purses in irritation. “What can I say! I got a lot of plans that need attention right now.” His eye glimmers in the dark of the evening, gold and brightly lit. “A lot of plans.”
None of which he’s telling Dipper about.
“Have fun, I guess.” Dipper’s not going to ask. He knows better. “I hope you fail.”
Bill’s got his evil, demonic business - but to balance it out, Dipper’s got his own, human stuff. Sometimes, like their date, Bill even helps out with it. Despite being a demonic king of nightmares and torment, he’s easily coaxed into other stuff, if it’s entertaining.
Though sometimes, it only means spending time with Dipper.
Bill always claims he didn't have anything better to do. There’s no guessing how true that is.
“You’re a menace,” BIll says fondly, though his grin starts to fade. He slows in his tracks as the Shack comes into view in the distance. “And speaking of, I gotta get back.”
Dipper halts in place. Turning towards his demon with an incredulous look. “Again?”
A few days apart is okay, Dipper guesses. Pretty normal, they have their own stuff to do. They text or call everyday they can’t meet. That’s fine.
But it’s been way longer than a few days.
It’s been ages since they’ve even seen each other, much less hung out, and they’re married. They finally made time for a date, everything was going well, Dipper was… kind of expecting more to the evening -
And Bill’s just leaving? Now?
“I said I’m busy, sapling.” To his credit, Bill does sound like he regrets it. He winks, clicking his tongue. “I know, I know, you’ll miss me! Now c’mon, do the honors.”
The Mindscape, right. Sending him back to his realm of nightmares.
Dipper sighs. “Yeah, alright.” It’s part of their contract, anyway.
He sets a palm on Bill’s chest. It’s warm, with a rapid pulse under his palm. Some more mud flakes off from where it’s dried on the ruins of Bill’s shirt. He starts to concentrate -
“Ahem.” Bill clears his throat. One eyebrow raised. “Not the honors you should start with.” He leans in.
This time, Dipper leans away.
He knows what Bill wants. And he’s not doing it. Not in this state, and especially not when he’s ditching Dipper for some godawful reason.
Bill remains undeterred. “It’s demon stuff, Pine Tree,” He says, sounding a bit pouty. Knowing Dipper’s annoyed - but clearly not getting the reason, if he’s still taking off. “You don’t wanna hear it! Or get involved with it.”
And yeah, Dipper doesn’t.
That doesn’t mean he can’t hate it from afar.
Bill moves in for a kiss again, and Dipper turns away. Again. They’re both filthy and he doesn’t want mud in his mouth. Spite, though, is definitely part of it.
“I’ll see you later, Bill.” He says, and shoves his idiot husband back into his stupid demon realm.
Bill vanishes, instantaneously. Sometimes Dipper’s not a fan of the transition, it’s literally quick as thought - but this time it means Bill doesn’t get to try whatever excuse he was coming up with..
Dipper shoves his hands in his pockets, head down. Stalking back home, and frowning.
‘Demon stuff’.
Under any metric, their relationship is. Weird.
Dipper stumbled into the demon side flirtation, and Bill knows how humans do things. They’ve been meeting somewhere in the middle ever since. Dipper’s learned a lot, and Bill knows humans. He’s even willing to dip his own toes into the typical human stuff, with surprising insight and the appropriate success.
Bill was even having fun earlier, with purely human things, that - had some violence, admittedly.
But the explosion wasn’t what made Bill smile, and the litter of body parts didn’t make him laugh.
…Unless it did.
Dipper drags a hand over his face. He can’t deny that he’s hip-deep in the demonic side of relationships. It’s how they got their start.
No normal human would think exploding a corpse-eater was a date. It was demonic to its core -
…And. Not a great one, apparently.
Bill’s whole MO Is demonic stuff. He’s made for it, spent eons on it. It’s entertaining. Running off to do some ‘big plan’, sure, that makes sense for him. It’s more interesting.
Why his husband doesn’t rank on Bill’s priority list is-
Dipper drops his arm back to his side, before he burns another handprint into the doorframe.
Whatever version of demonic ‘seduction’ Dipper’s managed to cobble together. It must not be very compelling. Bill’s interested, sure - but not enough to linger once things get boring. He thinks it’s totally fine to just take off at any moment.
Dipper rubs at his eyes. He stands in the doorway of the Mystery Shack, looking up into the wooden slats of the ceiling.
But then Human romance never worked out for Dipper. Then demon romance.... Kind of did? By accident. Under anyone’s critique, he’d rank far below expert.
Maybe…
He’s missing something?
Obviously Dipper’s never going to catch Bill’s eye with human stuff, when it’s never worked on other humans - and while he’s gotten a hang of demonic flirting, he’s never been a dating expert.
Dipper drums his fingers against the doorframe, eyes narrowing.
If it weren’t for everything else he has at hand. He might have been at a loss. But part of being married to a demon, and visiting his infinite terrible realm, means Dipper can get to things no other human could.
He nods once. Firm, and certain, clenching a fist.
It’s time to do research.
-------------------------------------------------------
Finding information about demonic courtship ends up far easier than he expected.
And less convenient than he hoped.
Dipper should have remembered before he came up with this idea. His phone only works for contacting Bill whenever he wants. It’s powered by an infinite, triangular battery, its network hitching off a ride on a life-bond.
It made it easy to forget a very pertinent, pivotal point for his research.
There’s no internet in the Mindscape.
No demon worth their salt would give out free information. Sometimes they write things down, in diaries, dangerous tomes of spells, etcetera - but they’re hoarded like the precious things they are.
Instead, they go in hard on gossip. Everything’s up for trade as a favor, or used as a bribe. Knowledge is power, and in demon society? There’s always a power play going on. It’s a constant game of keeping their friends close, and their enemies closer. As far as Dipper can tell, the two are often the same thing.
Deals were completely off the table, for marriage reasons. Bribes were okay, but hard to figure out. It could even have dragged Dipper into demon drama, which is something even Bill avoids. It could have been an ordeal that came a huge cost, one he couldn’t - or wouldn’t - pay.
For once in Dipper’s life, he actually got lucky.
Turns out being Bill Cipher’s spouse opens all kinds of doors.
A few comments, a couple of bribes - snack cakes are popular, he’s noting this all down later to share with Ford - and a few memorized threats? All while name dropping Bill?
It got him everything he could ask for.
….Considering the topic, there might also be gossip going on - but he’ll deal with that later.
Right now, Dipper kicks his feet up on the ottoman, and clicks his pen. Notebook ready, research material at hand.
No other human has ever had this much demon-made writing to go through. Not without having their eyes burned out of their skull, or their soul taken in a bargain. Dipper spends a moment feeling proud.
It might be dangerous, but Dipper’s smart. He’s cautious. He’s got demon magic built right into his soul. He’s also got plenty of time, no sleep to worry about, and piles of resources, carefully gathered.
He’s got this.
Dipper picks a bit of spiderweb off the top magazine on his pile, and flips through it. Skimming over articles, pen at the ready.
And pauses.
He flips a couple more pages, leaning back a little in his seat.
This. Isn’t what he expected. It’s also not not what he expected, but. It might be a fluke, so he tosses that issue aside, picking up another.
Then another.
Dipper flips through a few more, with increasing desperation.
In every issue - in every magazine - The article titles shout back at him with their bright exclamation marks:
How To Get Them To Fight You In 10 Easy Steps!
Obtuse or A-CUTEY - How To Get In Shape For Summoning!
Top Twelve Exoskeleton Buffs for YOUR Intended!
Simple Ways To Even Out Your Angles In Just One Century !
Do They REALLY Hate You? Find Out With This Quiz!
Dipper rubs at his eyes.
Not… his best call. Getting his hopes up. Even thinking he’d get some kind of academic article was downright dumb. He knows that isn’t up most demon’s alleys.
Bill would know where to find studies, and statistics. If they exist. He likely has entire tomes on the subject, if only to laugh at them -
And he’s the last person Dipper can ask.
He ditches that idea, as well as the issue of Cosmophage he was skimming through. He picks up a Playbaal instead.
More of the same in this magazine. Though a lot more racy. Dipper makes a face at the letters to the executioner section - they’re gory and unbelievable. No human is that dumb, and that’s coming from him. Nobody offers themself up on a literal silver platter.
Two hours later, Dipper’s still made zero headway. He’s also slumped in his seat, almost lying down in the chair.
At this point, it’s getting boring.
He is learning a lot about demonic fantasies, and something of their proclivities - but he’d already known the basics. It’s only extrapolating from stuff he was already aware of, to absurd, insane degrees. It might as well be the internet for how true any of this bullshit sounds.
Dipper keeps flipping through them, out of sheer repetitive motion. In this one, there’s a couple glossy pages in the center, easily opening to lie flat in his lap.
He blinks. He stares.
Dipper sits up with a sharp jolt. After a moment, he shakes his head, centering himself.
Right. It’s. The pinup photo. Magazines have those.
He quickly checks the cover - it’s from about two hundred years ago. He makes a face. Still pretty weird.
…..He didn’t know Bill ever did that kind of thing.
In the photo, Bill - true Bill - lounges on his side, top point in his palm. His hat is off - weird - and there’s an artful drape of silk over where his tie should be. Or is? It’s impossible to tell if it’s on or not under the cloth. Likely that’s the point.
Dipper snorts, tapping the picture of Bill’s eye, twice. Then remembers - shit - startles, and claps the magazine shut, looking up and around.
Thank hell, he’s still alone. Bill must not have been paying attention.
God, if Bill caught him with this, he’d instantly make a whole host of assumptions, and grin like a maniac. Even worse, his ego would balloon into impossible dimensions.
Dipper thinks for a moment. Tapping the magazine on his lap. Then he shrugs, and carefully tears out the glossy photo pages.
If he hides this in the right place, Bill might find it within the month.
Dipper crumples the rest of the magazine into a ball, glaring off into the distance, before dropping off the side of his chair.
At least one good thing came out of this quote-unquote research. He’s barely learned anything. Other than that demons can be as absurd as humans, and he already knew that.
But.
There has to be something here. These wouldn’t be the most popular works about demonic romance, among demons, if they didn’t have some grains of truth buried within. He just has to find them.
He’s already mastered parts of demonic seduction. Even started doing the regular kind, a little. He’s probably better at it than any other mortal around.
But that isn’t going to work with Bill this distracted.
Dipper clicks his pen, heaves a long-suffering sigh - and starts taking notes.
He might as well try some new ideas.
Three Easy-Fake Injuries To Tempt YOUR Lover!
With a swear, Dipper stumbles, and falls. He hits the ground a little harder than he’d like, sucking in a breath through his teeth. “Shit.”
Bill’s attention snaps towards him instantly.
“What’s up?” Now he’s frowning, dropping his prey. “You trip or something?”
The demon Bill was berating shudders, sliding down to the floor in possibly boneless relief. They scuttle away over the black bricks on all twelve limbs.
“Mh,” Dipper grunts, shutting his eyes and hugging his leg himself. Keeping composed, and his face scrunched up. Holy shit, this actually worked - “Ow.”
"You gotta be the most unlucky human I've ever met." Bill stalks over, giving Dipper a derisive look. "Where'd you break this time?"
“Shut it.” Dipper says, annoyed. He couldn’t totally fake a fall, he’s not an actor. Bill would have seen through him immediately. Then admits, “It’s my ankle.”
Bill sighs, rubbing at his eye. His phone rings in his pocket, and he grumbles something inaudible. “Of all the-” He crouches down. “Alright, what’s the damage?”
“It’s fine,” Dipper says, honestly. Then Bill yanks his leg out of his grip, and okay, maybe this wasn’t the best approach.
DIpper winces, lying back on the floor. Bill rolls his eye, tugging his leg out further.
Adding some verisimilitude was the goal - but it ended up being a little too thorough. Bill glares at Dipper's ankle like it's insulted him, and Dipper finds himself doing the same. It's less painful than he's acting - but more than he wanted it to be. Which was any.
Though as long as he has Bill here…
As Bill examines him, Dipper shifts his other leg away. And maybe tilts back a little. When he scoots a little closer on the floor, it helps to ‘accidentally’ pull his shirt up a bit.
Bill hums for a long moment, eye narrowed as he toys with Dipper’s ankle, turning it this way and that. His eye flicks over Dipper, lighting up for a split second as it takes him in.
Then he sighs, and stands.
“Uh. Hey.” Dipper says. He clears his throat. Then smacks the floor next to him. “Bill, I’m really vulnerable here.”
“Eh, you’re fine. It’s not even a sprain!” Bill shrugs, apparently dismissing him. He turns and glares down the corridor, hands on his hips. “Where the hell did that caterer go?”
Dipper leans back, elbows on the floor and legs spread. Glaring as he watches Bill walk away without even another glance.
Okay, technically that worked. Temporarily.
But Bill’s too clever to be tricked by minor setbacks, and Dipper’s not willing to inflict something serious.
He’ll have to move on to something else.
Exotic Mortal Treats - GUARANTEED To Spice Things Up!
“So, uh.” Dipper winces at the crunching sounds. It’s louder than two granola bars combined. “How is it?”
“Mh.” Bill sucks some unidentifiable goo off his finger, pulling it out of his mouth with a pop. “Nice, sapling!” He grins, and winks. “You should bring me snacks more often.”
Dipper offers an awkward smile.
Bill shoves another scorpion in his mouth, and starts to crunch. His mood’s definitely picked up, at least. He starts picking some carapace from his teeth, leaning forward in concentration.
Beyond that, he doesn’t seem to react.
Dipper pulls a chair over. He scoots a little closer, watching Bill work with… whatever he’s working with. He clears his throat. “How are you feeling?”
Bill’s manipulating some magical array with stars and planets slowly rotating on a field. He makes a face at it, muttering under his breath.
“I’m feeling like some of these idiots should help out with the setup,” He says irritably, smacking the wheel of not-space and making it spin. A long line of celestial bodies Dipper can’t identify line up in a long string, and a beam of light shines through them to another point. “Who’s doing all the heavy lifting here, anyway?
Dipper shrugs. He gazes moodily into the empty terrarium.
So much for that advice. He might as well have bought a bag of chips. It’d have been way cheaper, and he’d actually be able to eat some.
Bill’s busy with his project, and Dipper’s taking a backseat to some demonic ongoings. Which is. Y’know. Fine. It’s part of their deal; they both get to do their own things.
Dipper taps his foot on the floor. Waiting.
But, no. There’s no reaction. Hell, now that he thinks of it - If this was going to have an effect, Bill knew what he was eating. He would have gotten the implication, first thing.
Eventually, Dipper sighs. He leans on Bill’s chair. “What kind of party is this?”
Bill looks up, one eyebrow raised. Somewhat surprised.
Dipper doesn’t budge. Nudging Bill, and staying firm. Which only makes Bill look more surprised.
Not without reason, either. Normally Dipper wouldn't want to know what Bill’s getting up to. They have kind of a live-and-let-live agreement regarding morality, each of them doing their own thing. Usually he prefers to not be in the loop.
This party has been interfering for way too long.
“Eh, it’s one of those cosmic convergence shindigs,” Bill says, and shrugs. He leans back in his chair, rubbing at his eye. “Not mine, technically. But it’s a big deal!”
Dipper glances over the map of celestial bodies, spinning again in the lit-up illusion.
Okay. Not a common occurrence. He’ll give it that. “...How often does this happen?”
“About once a millenia.” Bill stretches his arms behind his head, starting to smile again. One of his first loves - over-explaining. “I’ve hosted it the last twenty, thirty times? Something like that.” He buffs his nails on his shirt, looking proud. “Nobody’s got a better event plaza.”
So that’s it, then.
Dipper slumps back in his chair. He lets his arms drop to his sides.
Bill must get a text or something, because he checks his phone and starts frowning instantly. Starting to sulk a little as he fiddles with his map, and something else on a lit-up diagram. He makes a face, muttering under his breath about idiots, incompetents, and other idiosyncrasies.
…Setting up this party must be a headache and a half.
If it’s an event that only happens every thousand years, it’s got to be important. No wonder it’s taking up so much time.
On the upside, once this awful event is over with, it’s not going to come up again soon. Bill can’t get distracted by it - Hell, Dipper won’t even be around for the next one.
A thousand years is longer than Dipper can imagine. Ten times longer than he could ever live. A human’s life is pretty small, compared to most supernatural beings.
On the timespan Bill’s working with, it’s barely a footnote.
Demon events have gotten between them before. Dipper’s own plans have caused scheduling conflicts, too. Interruptions happen, life throws curveballs at them, and they both get busy -
But not for this long.
Dipper starts to say something - then hesitates. He’s not sure what to say.
Bill sticks his tongue out, his focus torn between something with that array of spinning stars, and texting someone back. He’s muttering to himself, frowning. A foot tapping the ground in irritation.
…As far as Bill’s concerned, Dipper might as well have faded into the background.
Dipper rests his chin in his hands. Waiting might be pointless, but. He’ll stick around for a bit. In case it works.
He wants Bill to throw him into a lake, or tell him he’s stupid, pick him up and insult him. Or at least care that he’s around when he’s sitting right there -
He drums his fingers on his knee, other leg jogging in place.
Bill doesn’t seem to notice.
Dating The Vain Type? How To Get ALL Their Attention on YOU
“This tie?” Bill holds one up in front of himself, facing the mirror. “Ooor this one?” He holds up another.
Dipper doesn’t say anything as he stalks into the bedroom, hands shoved in his pockets.
“Or this one!” Another tie pops up out of nowhere. “What’s a good look?”
Dipper shrugs. It doesn’t matter. Who cares, anyway.
“Speak up already, I need a second opinion!” Bill’s reflection in the standing mirror shows a slightly confused expression. “What’s with you?”
Dipper glares at his husband’s back, shrugging again. Bill makes a miffed sound, but so what?
All Bill cares about is this event he’s throwing. He’s complained about it for weeks now, he’s had plenty of time to prepare. One small human’s opinion isn’t going to matter.
And if Dipper has to hear one more word about this godawful party…
“It’s happening tonight, kid!” Bill jogs both tie options in his hands, prompting. “It might not be my favorite occasion - but that’s no excuse for not looking sharp!” He turns towards Dipper with a wink. “C’mon, what’s good?”
Dipper stalks over towards Bill, ignoring his questions and the weird look he’s being given. He knows he’s tense, that he’s stomping on the carpet, and that this is pretty stupid -
But it was in the article.
And he’s kind of wanted to do this before, anyway.
He meets Bill’s eye, flips him off - and shoves the stupid standing mirror over.
The entire thing, brass stand and all, goes toppling to the floor. The metal hits the ground hard, sending the mirror shattering into a million pieces - and Dipper jumps in place, startled.
Bill merely watches. A blank expression on his face, staring as his narcissistic toy gets moderately obliterated.
The brass stand clangs on the floor for a while, then settles down. There’s a brief silence.
Dipper takes a step back, awkwardly clearing his throat.
Shit, he thought that would be more durable. Most things in Bill’s place are impossible to break. Now there’s a billion tiny shards on the floor, glimmering up at him.
Though. The articles were technically correct. It did get Bill’s attention.
Dipper’s not sure what to say now.
Even Bill doesn’t have anything to say. He looks between the shattered mirror and Dipper, obviously surprised even seconds later.
“...I take it that’s a no on both of ‘em.” He says, eventually. The smile doesn’t make a return. He glances over, blinking rapidly. “What, did you wanna join the party?”
He’s still thinking about - how could he be -
Dipper clenches his fists.
Time after time after time, Dipper’s heard about the drinks selection for a party, or the guest list. Even the games Bill has planned. He can’t help but ramble in his enthusiasm, until Dipper either has to leave the room, or cover his ears against it.
There’s been none of that for this event.
It’s taken longer than every other one. It’s commanded too much of his time. Dipper hasn’t felt Bill watching him through either his regular gaze or his supernatural one, for weeks, and they only had one date this month.
Instead, Bill’s been doing setup - which he grumbles about - and worse, he’s had to organize. That always puts him in a bad mood. He’s bitched and complained, he’s made disgusted faces at his phone. He hasn’t rambled, or bounced in place. He hasn’t once looked happy about it.
Hell. It’s not even his in the first place.
“I don’t know why you’re spending so much time on this crap.” Dipper meets his husband’s eye. He throws his arms out, incredulous. “Bill, you don’t even like it.“
Bill, for once, doesn’t have a response.
He opens his mouth to say something - shuts it again. He blinks rapidly, expression changing as he tries to work something out - it turns into a grimace -
“I’m gonna go to take a bath.” Dipper says, shoulders rising - and stalks off.
Behind him, Bill remains silent. Thoughtful, and still.
-------------------------------------------------
Spending time at Bill’s place isn’t Dipper’s first preference. Spending time with Bill is the main reason to do so, because Dipper likes his time linear, his spaces Euclidean, and his company not cannibalistic. For every upside, there’s a definite down.
But if nothing else, the Fearamid has luxury in spades.
Dipper blows bubbles under the water of the bath. It staunchly refuses to stop being warm and comforting.
The stupid soap even smells nice; Bill must have changed out the options. Dipper knows Bill’s paid attention to some parts of what he wants, including the little things like ‘no more titan arum scented stuff’. He knows Bill’s made it slightly more human-safe, because none of the water comes out literally boiling anymore.
Dipper knows Bill knows these things. He knows a lot of things. Hell, he’s supposed to be ‘all-seeing’, so there’s no good reason some things still get overlooked -
He also knows he’s sulking.
Bill can’t read his mind. That’s been a fact from the start.
Without that advantage, Bill has to rely on all his other knowledge, and extrapolate. Most of the time he predicts him well enough that Dipper never gets a chance to speak up -
So it strangely sucks when he doesn’t.
Sulking’s good, though. Dipper manages some impressive bubble piles, sloshing around in the water.
He already knows what he should do. It’s the sensible thing. The human thing. It might even get Dipper what he wants, it just.
…Also kind of sucks.
If he stays any longer in the bath, his fingers are going to get all wrinkly. Or Bill will leave for the party, probably. He’ll miss his chance, and then, how will he bring up -
Wait.
There’s music, somewhat muffled through the wall between the bathroom and bedroom.
Dipper sits upright, shaking some bubbles off of his face with a frown.
Bill’s playing piano. Which is weird. He only does that when he’s relaxed, and lately he’s been anything but.
And if ever there was a sign, then he supposes this would be it. He tilts his head back, breathing in slowly.
There’s the music.
Time to face it.
Dipper gets out of the bath, sitting on the floor near the edge. Kicking idly in the water as the music continues. Something bright and jaunty. A tune of self-satisfaction, and a perkier mood. He spends more time than he should toweling off. Pacing, back and forth between the hundred baths on the floor and on the walls.
Eventually, he brushes his teeth, staring into a mirror that’s bigger than he is tall.
Dipper makes a face at his own reflection. Walking into the bedroom with that expression is going to let Bill catch on, fast.
….They should really be better at this.
It’s been years.
Whenever Dipper has to say something, it always comes out awkward. He doesn’t know how to do it right.
With Bill, he hasn’t had to come out and talk directly very often, which is something of a relief.
He guesses it’s not a surprise, really. They’re the worst combination for true sincerity - a socially awkward nerd, and emotionally stunted jackass. The fact that they get along at all is nothing short of miraculous.
They’ll just have to…Sort it out.
Dipper nods at his reflection. He takes a deep, calming breath, and lets it out.
The good news is he looks more certain than he feels, even as he heads towards the door.
Their bedroom is the same as always - once you allow for the fact that it changes on a whim, parts clicking in and out of place on sheer demonic will - and the carpet is soft on Dipper’s bare feet.
He drops the towel to the floor, and tries to finger comb his hair. It buys him time, while he thinks about how to start. He doesn’t want to turn towards Bill, feeling weird about their earlier interaction - but he glances over, just once.
Where Bill’s leaning from his perch on the piano bench, tilted at a dangerous angle.
Dipper looks away again, face feeling hot. He walks in a little further, and Bill tracks him, following his every move -
…How Bill keeps playing when nearly horizontal is a mystery.
On the plus side, Bill’s fine. Cheerful, for the first time in a while. And the mirror’s gone too, which is a relief. The tightness in Dipper’s chest loosens a bit.
Then he frowns, setting his hands on his hips.
Where the hell is the dresser with his clothes. Bill better not have vanished it again.
There’s a low whistle behind him.
“Shut up,” Despite himself, Dipper smiles. “You’ve seen me naked before.”
“And I’ll see it five thousand times more!” Bill changes the song he’s playing. It’s lighter, and brighter. “At minimum.”
Likely he’s right about that. Dipper wishes he had something to toss at him, but he already dropped the towel. He rubs at one of his arms.
Being eyed up is. Not weird, but oddly comforting. Bill always ogles him like a creep. Always wanting a peek, or a look, or suggesting revealing clothing with a smile and wink, like the jerk he is. Partly because he is kind of a creep, but mostly because -
Because Bill thinks he’s hot.
Even if Dipper knows he’s watching, Bill’s not going to stop watching, even if it’s awkward. Part of him must like the awkward, he’s never failed to find Dipper compelling, even when most human people would say he’s a huge dork.
Bill literally has his eye on him, all the time. Always wanting to know what’s on his mind.
Dipper rubs a thumb over his left palm, and hears Bill make an annoyed sound. In his mind, he’s shouting at himself.
Why did he bother with ‘research’? He was overthinking, again. He always does this. Which, if he’s right, and Bill likes it - must be extremely compelling.
Behind him, Bill makes a curious noise. The bench makes a creak as he scoots over.
And Dipper shifts from foot to foot.
If he’s going to do this, then. Second-guessing himself is going to get them nowhere.
And all that demonic advice was terrible.
Obvious Come-on? More Like Obvious Turn-off - 10 Mistakes To Avoid!
For the second time tonight, Dipper does something he’s wanted to do before.
Damn it, he doesn’t know what a seductive slink should look like. They’ve done it a lot, Bill’s never complained - but Dipper’s never intentionally looked sexy.
In the end, he doesn’t bother. A walk is fine, if it gets him where he needs to be.
Bill doesn’t move from his seat on the bench. He straightens up as Dipper approaches, looking pleased. He tracks Dipper until it’s impossible - he can’t turn his head 180 degrees.
Once Dipper’s behind his target, he shuts his eyes. He’s got this. This will work - reassuring himself, while Bill keeps playing. Though his head is slightly tilted, listening. Expectant.
Bill isn’t expecting Dipper to drape himself over his shoulders. His shoulders rise as Dipper wraps his arms around them. There’s a sharp intake of breath.
“Sorry about the mirror.” Dipper squeezes his idiot husband, tight. Likely Bill doesn’t care, but someone has to have morals in this relationship.
“I don’t care,” Bill says, very dry. Dipper can almost feel him roll his eye. Bill’s chest puffs out a bit as his posture changes, and there's a smirk in his voice. “Nice you’re still here, sapling.”
Dipper breathes in, and lets it out.
Slowly, he runs a hand over Bill’s chest. The shirt is thin enough that he can feel the warmth underneath, easily - and Bill’s not wearing his tie. By his standards, he’s already a quarter naked.
So. This isn’t that weird. Half of the work is done for him.
When Dipper starts unbuttoning Bill’s shirt, he misses several notes.
“Hello,” Bill says, a bit distant sounding - before realizing that response was semi-brainless; he shakes his head. Looking down at his slowly opening shirt. “What’s this about?”
“I’m getting your attention.” Dipper smacks him on the side. Now that the shirt is half opened, he slides a hand underneath the fabric. “Jerk.”
“Done,” Bill sits up straight, raising his hands like he’s held at gunpoint. Dipper slides a hand over the warm skin of his chest, feeling the heart pick up its pace. “Actually, you can have all of it!”
And when Dipper strokes a thumb over a nipple, Bill gives a full-body shudder, and a soft sound from the back of his throat.
Holy shit, it did work. It’s working perfectly - Dipper feels a surge of triumph.
Not only did this do the trick, it was easy. It was simple. It’s even fun to slide his palm over Bill’s chest, to toy with a nipple, listening to him grunt a little and start clasping Dipper’s arm.
Bill thinks he’s hot, after all. Bill wants him.
Why did he think he needed to make it complicated?
Dipper presses a few kisses onto Bill’s neck, feeling his chest still in a held breath - then moves onto the shell of Bill’s ear. He draws the earlobe into his mouth, biting gently.
“And come to think of it…” Bill’s tense, muscles drawn tight. Like he wants to surge up, while also not moving away. He raises one imperious finger, his voice is slightly rough. “I have been meaning to lavish my attentions on someone, recently.”
“Good plan.” Dipper hugs Bill tighter, then adds, “Since I wasn’t giving you a choice,” As he drags Bill backwards off the bench.
Bill nearly falls on his ass. Grabbing onto Dipper’s arms as he struggles to find balance, squirming in the grip, even the piano bench gets kicked over -
And all the while, he laughs like a maniac.
He’s too quick, though. After only one severe stumble, Bill’s back on his feet before Dipper can react.
Bill seizes Dipper in an instant, gripping his upper arms tight. His grin maniac, and his eye glowing bright. “Oh, sapling.” His voice is a low hum, teeth white and bared. “I'm gonna make you pay for that.”
“You can try.” Dipper says. He gets a grip on Bill’s lapels, hauling him in until they’re face to face.
God, finally. This is what he wanted, and it came so easily. Not only that, it’s way more fun than -
Bill’s phone starts ringing again.
Both of them glance down. Bill grimaces. He stops petting Dipper’s side to pull the offending item out of his pocket and glare at it. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
And Dipper… lets his arms drop.
Another interruption, for an important event. Bill’s powerful, but even he can’t change time, not in any meaningful way.
Priorities mean that. Something else gets put on the sidelines.
“Screw ‘em.” Bill declares suddenly, and hurls his phone across the room.
Dipper looks up just in time to catch the motion, as the offending object cracks against the wall over the headboard, bouncing onto the bed.
“Total waste of my time.” Bill brushes his hands off, dismissive. “If they can’t pull the convergence off without me, they didn’t deserve it in the first place.”
“Oh thank god.” Dipper didn’t mean to say that out loud - but now Bill’s looking at him weird, so he adds. “You’re not going.”
“Decided not to half an hour ago,” Bill says, with a shrug. That’s why his mood has picked up - Dipper stands a little straighter. “They shoulda gotten the picture when things got started without me.”
It’s already started. Bill should be there, and he’s spent a lot of time on this thing - Dipper hesitates. “Are you sure?”
“Definitely! You see- Hm.” BIll starts, then hems and haws. He’s also, very unsubtly, backing Dipper towards the bed. He takes a few moments, face scrunched up, before admitting, “You had a decent point.”
Dipper blinks for a moment. Wow. Now that’s rare.
But he’s not too surprised to let it slide.
As Bill pushes, Dipper lets his feet dig into the carpet, and adds a palm on Bill’s chest. It draws them to a slow halt. “You’re serious.”
“As a broken femur.” Bill declares. He squeezes Dipper’s waist, while a smile creeps back onto his face. “I’ve hosted this shindig nearly two dozen times, and every millenia they make it more of a drag.” He sticks his tongue out - then chucks Dipper gently under the chin. “Quick life tip, kid - if it sucks, stop doing it!”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Dipper grabs onto Bill’s lapels again. There’s a smile threatening to emerge. Though, admittedly, he could be trying harder to hold it back.
“Good choice! It’ll keep ya from getting stuck in a routine.” Bill shudders dramatically, and starts backing Dipper up again. After a second he pauses - and presses a quick, wet kiss on Dipper’s forehead. “Your little reminder came in handy.”
Dipper reaches up from Bill’s lapel, and cups his cheek. Feeling his demonic grin widen under his palm - and feeling oddly touched.
Though he knows Bill can be fooled, it doesn’t make the rare moments when he is less surprising. Knowing that Dipper was right feels triumphant, and good. Knowing that Bill could have gotten stuck without a reminder.
It's also a reminder for Dipper. He is smart, and Bill likes that -
Dipper��s legs hit the edge of the bed, and he jabs his husband in the chest. Very lightly, not more than a prod. "Not going to miss the party?"
“Hardly! That crap’s about as amusing as paperwork.” Now Bill’s grin is truly, monstrously wide. He tilts Dipper over the bed, gripping tight to his waist - and winks. “I’d have way more fun playing with a drowned rat.”
“Asshole,” Dipper says, and kisses him.
Bill returns it with enthusiasm. More than a bit of groping. A slow lean over, that Dipper lets happen until he’s nearly horizontal, only his grip on Bill’s shirt keeping him upright.
Part of him feels warm, and good. Another wants to push Bill on the bed, but mostly he’s amused, because Bill messed up.
He went and admitted something.
“You can’t take it back now, Bill.” Dipper sits down on the bed, escaping Bill’s grasp. Albeit temporarily. As Bill pouts over his temporary loss of prey, Dipper smiles, and jerks a thumb at himself, “You think I’m fun.”
“Eh, I’ve met worse.” Bill takes a hold of Dipper’s shoulders, slowly eyeing him up and down. “If I knew how fun you were gonna turn out in bed, I woulda kept you all to myself.” He kisses Dipper once, then moves onto his cheek, and his neck, leaning him further onto the bed. “Shoulda taken you back home and never let you leave.”
“So. Kidnapping, basically.” Dipper braces his elbows on the bed, letting Bill work over his neck, then his shoulder - then grimaces. “That… would have been a disaster.”
If Bill pulled that, Dipper would have been too alarmed to respond the way Bill wanted. Taken away from his home to a strange place. By a total stranger, with unknown motives. Not to mention how Bill back then was… not the worst about bedroom things, but he was still a major asshole. Between Bill’s brash confidence and Dipper’s paranoid anxiety, that entire thing would have been -
“See, this is why playing doctor didn't work out, Mr. ‘I need to see your medical license’.” Bill smacks Dipper’s hip twice. It pulls him back into the moment. Bill raises an eyebrow. “It’s a game, sapling. Don’t take it so seriously.”
Damn it, he has a point. Roleplay always falls apart once Dipper starts picking at it; it doesn’t kill the mood, exactly. But it rarely works as intended.
Dipper wants this to continue. He wants to have fun, he wants to have sex, and Bill’s ideas are usually good in that regard -
Screw it, it is just a game. No reason to make it too complicated.
In essence, it’s pretty standard ‘ravishing by a demon’, and they’ve done that before. This time it’s with a distinct twist, one he hasn’t considered - Dipper glances down at himself - and his traitorous dick is responding.
He wonders if he should have brought the collar. But technically speaking, if he was just kidnapped he wouldn’t have that yet. That’d be something Bill would give him later on, after -
Also, he might be overthinking again.
Maybe he should stop doing that.
“Alright, I’m into it.” Dipper admits. He spreads his arms wide with a shrug. “Have at me.”
“Great!” Bill beams, clapping his hands together. “Then let’s get our party started.”
And without warning, Bill hauls him up, lifts him bodily and chucks him onto the mattress. Dipper bounces in place, getting his bearings as Bill eases his way onto the bed. And over him.
“Glad to have you here, Pine Tree.” Bill leans in, bearing an ominous smile and too many levels of smug to unravel. He has more presence than he deserves. “You didn’t make that easy.”
“Why would I?” Dipper says, keeping his voice level. Slipping into the role is easy; and glaring is practically a habit. “You kidnapped me.”
“Chin up, sapling.” Bill says with a smile. Taking Dipper’s chin in hand, he tilts him up to meet his eye. “You’re really gonna like what’s in store.”
“Cipher,” Dipper hisses, gripping the sheets tight. He scrambles back on the bed, slow enough to let Bill follow at a crawl. “Whatever you’re planning, you won’t get away with it.”
“Is that so?” Bill raises an eyebrow. Eying Dipper, up and down with a slowly growing smirk. “You’re a little underdressed for thwarting, kid.”
Dipper jerks back, indignant. “You stole my clothes.”
The accusation in his voice isn’t entirely feigned. The dresser was gone when he came back from his bath, damn it. He should have noticed. He tries to haul the sheets up around himself, but their mutual weight stops him.
“Surprise!” Bill says delightedly. He wiggles his fingers at Dipper, sitting up on his knees. “I’ve had my eye on you for a while.”
Dipper manages to turn his laugh into a grunt, close-lipped.
“What do you want from me?” He presses his back against the headboard. Retreating was useless - Bill only needs to lean in and he’s caged in by his arms.
“Hm. Decent brains, interesting body - way more into demons than you’d admit,” Bill says, nonchalant. One hand presses Dipper’s hip down firmly, holding him still. A thumb traces over his skin, a short distance away from his rising cock. “And packed chock full of lust.”
“That’s not an answer.” Dipper’s face is red now. He braces his arms against the wood behind him. “I’m not -” But that’s visibly a lie - “I mean. What does lust have to do with-”
“Oh, you and I are gonna do some things!” Bill’s thumb slides over the soft skin on the inside of his thigh. The other hand rises, and snaps its fingers. “Lots of things.”
Sudden, rapid thumping makes Dipper nearly jump off the bed, as a shower of ropes, sex toys, and other lewd accoutrement plummet out of nowhere.
A dildo poings off his thigh, and something rubbery bounces off the mattress and rolls off the side. There’s a scatter of ropes at the foot of the mattress, while leather manacles manifest on the headboard.
Dipper gives all of it a cursory look. Then another, more cynical one at his idiot husband.
“Pretty much all of these things.” Bill says, with no shame whatsoever. He grins down at Dipper like he’s about to unwrap a present. “Along with everything else I can think of!”
“Now I get it.” Now Dipper’s glaring in earnest. A few things would make sense, fine. This is just overkill. “You’re a pervert.”
“Takes one to know one!” Bill grabs Dipper’s shoulders and pulls, startlingly fast. Dipper’s head thumps softly against the pillow. His legs are spread around Bill now, and there’s a palm planted on the center of his collarbone. “Glad you could join me.”
Dipper grabs onto Bill’s wrist with both hands, squirming under the weight. He tugs, but not hard. “Why would I sleep with you?”
“To have the most fun of your life, duh.” Bill says magnanimously. He looms over him, pressure building on Dipper’s chest from his weight. Bill grins down at him, teeth bared in a vicious smile. “We’re gonna have a great time together.”
Dipper shuts his eyes.
With Bill over him like this, dangerous, half-feral, and smug - that sends a tremor through him, going right to his dick.
“See? I knew you’d like this, sapling.” Bill beams, and takes Dipper’s cock in his hand. Not firmly, just… touching. Hot enough to be tempting, loose enough to make Dipper want more of it.. “I’ve seen your dreams.”
“You-” Dipper can’t think of much to say. He lets go of Bill’s wrist, holds onto his arm instead. There’s a retort, somewhere. Except Bill knows how to touch him, and he’s stroking in earnest now, moving faster, holding tighter- “Damn it.”
“You’re real interested in demons. A downright obsession, some might say.” Bill’s voice is low in Dipper’s ear. He nips at it once, thumb spreading wetness over the head of Dipper’s dick. He rolls it around, listens to the groan - and chuckles. “Imagination doesn’t compare to the real thing, does it?”
God, Bill’s warm, and he’s talking, the bastard. That’s never good for Dipper’s stamina. Even worse, Bill slows down, staying firm enough to make him - Dipper pushes his hips up into Bill’s circling fingers- “Ah.”
“Feels good, I know!” Bill starts chuckling. He squeezes again, smacking Dipper’s thigh, just near his butt. “And there’s more where that came from.”
Dipper clamps his mouth shut. Adding a palm over it, for extra coverage. Another sound escapes, softer this time. He grits his teeth and turns his head, he can’t watch if he wants to last longer. “You’re - too much.”
“Oh, please. We’ve barely gotten started! You don’t know what you’re really in for.” Bill says with pleased fondness. He lets go suddenly - Dipper tries to chase his hand for a second, then balls his fists in the sheets. Bill’s sudden grin is feral, and smug. “Lemme give you another taste.”
Dipper props himself up on his elbows. watching Bill duck down. Starting to plant kisses down his stomach, tongue trailing over his skin. He’s-
Dipper swallows, he tenses his thighs. Bracing for the inevitable.“Oh god.”
If Bill’s hand is unfair, his mouth is worse. He doesn’t give Dipper a break, just sucks him in. Too hot, extremely wet, with tongue sliding up the underside of his dick that takes Dipper’s breath away.
“That’s-” The groan Dipper lets out is wholly his own. “Fuck you, that’s not.” He needs to take time to breathe, going tense. He slides fingers into Bill’s hair, feeling them shake on his scalp. “That’s not fair.”
Bill hums a laugh - the vibration makes Dipper’s mind go blissfully blank - then reaches up. Dipper already has a loose hold on his hair, but Bill tugs his hand closer.
“God.” The prompt is obvious. That's what Bill wants - and Dipper sits up. Bill’s tough, he can handle anything, including Dipper. He wants him to fuck his mouth, to pull his hair - a little pain, Bill loves that - and when he does, Bill lets out a moan that would be obscene in any context.
Dipper curls around Bill, gripping tight in his hair, pulling him down sharply and eyes rolling back as Bill just. Takes it. It’s heat and wet and good, it’s been too long, Bill’s firm tongue working clever designs on his dick as he rises back up -
And pulls away, the asshole. He watches Dipper whine, dick hard and red and needy - and merely laughs.
“How many times have you jerked off thinking about that?” Bill asks, grinning. Dipper feels heat rush to his face - “Been a while, huh?” Bill takes his cock in hand again, starting to stroke, slow and lazy and absolutely not helping the heat Dipper feels, in his chest and in his groin - “Don’t worry, kid! It’s gonna be way better with me helping out.”
Which is right, but only because Bill already knows which buttons to press. Where to touch. He never shuts up and he knows what ideas will make Dipper think too much.
Dipper shudders. He hasn’t been touched in a while, and this is helping in ways he didn’t realize. Bill shouldn’t leave him like this, and he really wouldn’t if given the chance, doing all kinds of things to him. Like this tight grip, this surge inside him, building to -
“Wait.” He fumbles, gripping tighter on Bill’s shirt, breathing faster now. Feeling himself twitch, the heat rising in his groin, quicker than he wanted. “Wait. I’m-”
“You don’t even have words for the ways I’m gonna make you come,” Bill’s voice is a low purr in his ear, tight pressure on his dick, Bill never stops talking, it does horrible things to Dipper’s imagination - “Not stopping ‘till you’re a completely fucked out wreck.”
He would, he will - he’d make Dipper take his fingers and his cock, he’d touch him everywhere, until he -
Swears. Dipper arches up, gasping, coming in Bill’s hand, grabbing at his shirt, at his shoulders. Bill grins wide, palm cupped over his cock, catching his release.
He’s still chuckling to himself as Dipper drops back against the mattress. Blinking, slowly, at the ceiling.
Okay.
Not… the longest Dipper’s lasted. But it has been a while.
Bill hums a low, pleased tune, kissing Dipper on the temple, then the cheek. He leans back a bit - then cocks his head to the side as he looks at his palm.
“Seriously, though - you were really pent up.” Bill raises an eyebrow, breaking character for a moment. He examines the results with amusement, then takes a quick lick before wiping his hand on the sheets. “You shoulda said something.”
Dipper sighs. This jackass. “I was trying to.”
A light clicks on in Bill’s head. He sits up, suddenly alert. Eye darting around, thoughts racing - and he looks back down at Dipper.
Dipper doesn’t meet that golden gaze. He clears his throat, covering his eyes with his arm. Suddenly he’s embarrassed.
Bill’s not stupid. He noticed Dipper’s attempts; he could hardly miss the obvious. None of them were normal to begin with. They probably weren’t that common for demons, come to think of it - and zero of them are things Dipper would come up with on his own.
“Pretty strange approach you took there,” says Bill, patting Dipper’s thigh. He tilts his head to the side curiously, and his eye narrows. “What put those ideas in your head?”
There’s a very tiny, miniscule amount of tension in the question. Dipper thunks his head against the pillow, rolling his eyes.
Bill’s probing at something most people wouldn’t consider. But spend enough time in a demon realm, and well - Bill’s not entirely wrong to worry that Dipper might have been messed with. It’s just…
Dipper sighs. He knows what the reaction will be. But. He should say it now, too, before Bill gets the wrong idea.
“Um,” He says. Tapping two fingers together, and offering an awkward smile. “Demon Cosmopolitan.”
Bill blinks for a moment.
"Shut it." Dipper says. Already pre-annoyed.
“Mh.” Bill’s lips are pressed tightly together. “Mhm.” Amusement scrunching up his face, clearly holding back. He lets out a loud ‘pfffft’, shoulders rising.
“Demon dating advice sucks,” Dipper insists.
Bill’s amusement is irrepressible. Even though he nearly chokes holding it back, it breaks through - and he starts laughing outright.
Dipper swats at him, not very hard. He has to admit it wasn’t his greatest move.
“I can see it already!” Bill rolls off him, raising his arms in the air. “You doing your ‘research’!” He sterns his expression, a mimicry of Dipper’s - though his thinking face isn’t that dumb looking - and clicks an invisible pen. Nodding to himself, very seriously. “Gotta take notes on this copy of Playbaal.”
“It’s not that funny,” Dipper mutters. Not that it stops Bill. He straddles this jerk instead, and thumps him on the chest.
Another note to make - burn the notebook before Bill finds it.
Bill’s always too pleased with himself, including his own jokes. His dumb, shitty quote-unquote 'impression' has amused him to the point where he’s lying back, arms over his chest. Cackling at his own cleverness.
Accurate or not - which it wasn’t - it’s still really goddamn stupid.
Dipper rolls his eyes, feeling Bill’s stomach bounce with laughter under the palm of his hand. No point in protesting. Let him have his fun.
Still annoying though.
Bill himself looks pretty stupid, anyway. Splayed out on the mattress like that. His shirt half-undone, his hair slightly mussed. An obvious tent in his pants.
…Clearly distracted.
Dipper looks around at the toys strewn on the mattress. At the headboard, and Bill’s arms.
Now a thought’s brewing, in his own head. A tempting one.
Not that long ago, Bill started proposing new ideas. Dipper hasn’t had too many himself, he’s less experienced in this area. And while Bill makes bedroom stuff easy, as much as he can, Dipper’s still… awkward in general.
Even so - Inexperienced or not - He'd be an idiot to miss this opportunity.
Dipper crawls over his idiot husband, sitting down on his stomach with aplomb. Bill perks up, even as a bit of breath huffs out from the impact. He also raises his arms to get them out of Dipper’s way, which is perfect.
Dipper lets his fingers trail up one of them, lifting it by the wrist -
Where some experience comes in handy.
If he hadn’t been on the other side of this before, he wouldn’t know how to do it so quickly.
“Hello there,” Bill says, grinning wider now. He glances down at Dipper’s hips, so close to his face now. “Nice to see ya.”
“Uh huh.” Dipper’s trying for subtlety, he doesn’t have a witty retort. He’s busy sliding fingers up Bill’s other bicep.
Said subtlety instantly fails, as Bill tries to grab his butt, only to be held up with a jolt. His eye goes wide, he snarls and yanks again, torso jerking upwards with his sudden surge. He nearly rises off the mattress, even with Dipper sitting on top of him.
Dipper tightens his legs, keeping himself steady. Blinking in surprise.
Bill nearly bucked him completely off, which is. Not… really the reaction he expected. The second arm is free, and it’s gripping Dipper’s thigh, tight -
While Bill’s dominant hand is neatly tucked into the leather manacle.
After a second, Bill tilts his head back. Tugs his arm a few times, almost testingly - then looks up at Dipper with surprise.
“What?” Dipper asks. They’ve done… stuff before. He didn’t expect that much of a reaction.
“Huh.” Bill says, calmer now. Then, frowning slightly. “Huh.”
“What?”
“Huh.” Bill says again, with the usual amount of helpfulness. Looking less annoyed, and more contemplative. He purses his lips, tapping the manacle thoughtfully. “Gotta say that’s a first.”
Oh.
All of the awkwardness Dipper was repressing surges back to the forefront.
Okay, that’s. He didn’t - well maybe he did think - was he thinking at all, holy shit -
“Um.” Dipper hesitates. What does he do now, besides lean over to touch Bill’s forearm. “Is this-”
Somewhere in the sheets, Bill’s phone starts ringing again.
Bill lets out a disgusted groan, thunking his head against the pillow. Dipper starts scowling.
Bill twists one way, then another, looking for the source, while Dipper feels around for the damn thing without giving up his seat, fumbling in the silk. He finds it half-under Bill’s back, just next to his knee.
Dipper fishes the phone up, and glares at it. Ringing, incessantly, with the same stupid ringtone. Likely it’s important. Something going wrong, or going right. Another demonic thing that’s demanding Bill’s attention.
They don’t know they have competition.
Dipper picks up the call, tucking the phone against his ear. He feels Bill take in a sharp breath under him.
“Fuck off.” Dipper says in clipped tones, before the being on the other end can say anything. He glares down at Bill, squeezing his chest between his legs. Almost daring him to interject. “He’s busy.”
There’s a sound on the other end of the call - but Dipper’s already hung up, and thrown the stupid phone right to the floor.
Underneath him, Bill’s eye goes wide, blinking fast. It also starts glowing bright gold.
Dipper runs a hand through his hair, and tries not to feel awkward about that.
He isn’t really… Being forceful isn’t how he usually goes about things. But they’ve had enough interruptions from that godawful party already, and this one felt all too personal.
Bill shifts suddenly in place. Enough that Dipper has to steady himself, jolting back to the present.
Shit. Right, he’s got to get back to Bill. Who’s -
No longer thinking, apparently. He’s come to a decision with his usual speed. Bill’s propped his other wrist against the empty manacle. Hell, he’s halfway slid it into the thing, waiting for the clasp to be shut.
He’s also wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Dipper snorts in amusement, and says, “Okay.”
He leans forward again. There’s an odd flutter inside as he sets Bill’s other wrist in the manacle. As he sets the clasp, and tightens it. Fiddling with the leather is a decent excuse not to see the results, just yet.
Bill gives it an experimental tug, face changing as he thinks - then shrugs, and relaxes back on the bed. Humming a little tune to himself.
Dipper sits back. He swallows, though his mouth feels dry.
Right.
There’s Bill, underneath him. That body, warm muscle shifting against his thighs as Bill gets comfortable. A heartbeat, if Dipper presses a palm against his chest. His arms flex in the restraints, muscles tensing and shifting around before they relax again.
He’s… Not, exactly, at Dipper’s mercy, because Bill’s too strong, he could break out - hell, he made those restraints, they don’t have to exist, he could escape at any time - But.
Dipper licks his lips. Normally he’s good with ideas. It’s not working right now.
Bill. Held back for once. Powerful, impossible, insane - and lying there on the bed, grinning at Dipper. Waiting for him. That hat half-opened shirt exposing his chest, like an invitation to explore.
When Bill Cipher is.. is trapped like this, Dipper’s free to touch him wherever he wants. Or - or not touch him, if he wants, or only at the right moments, teasing until he’s the one shaking with sensation for once. Dipper could do pretty much anything, and Bill’s looking up at him, head slightly tilted to the side, like he expects him to-
“Um.” Dipper sits in place, blinking, at a loss. It’s like his brain has short-circuited, repeating the same thoughts in a circle.
After a second, Bill shrugs. “Well, well, well. Guess my new pet has a couple of tricks up his sleeve.” He lies back on the bed, nonchalant. He tilts his head back to examine his nails, since his hands are raised over his head. “What do you think this little stunt is going to accomplish?”
Dipper narrows his eyes.
If that’s the game, then…
“Who’s captured who now, Cipher?” He jabs a thumb at himself, starting to smile again. He shifts back, settling down on Bill’s thighs. “Guess I was smarter than you thought.”
“If you were real smart you’d be running.” His sneer belies the tent in his pants, hips shifting up as Dipper moves closer. “You know what happens to mortals who try to bind demons?”
Dangerous, always. Deadly, usually. If there’s even one fault in the binding. Even the slightest mistake - and the demon bursts free, able to wreak whatever havoc they like - usually on the hapless mortal who tried to keep them bound.
In this case, Dipper’s feeling very reckless.
“I’m not running away from all the secrets of the universe,” Dipper says. He feels oddly light inside, excitement building as he starts to undo the rest of Bill’s shirt. Fumbling, slightly, his fingers are uncoordinated. “You’re gonna tell me everything.”
“Ha! You’ve got no leverage, kid. Nothing to offer, no way to convince - and you don’t seem like the torturing type to me.” Bill eyes his progress, mouth quirked up with amusement. “Watch the fabric, that’s expensive.”
“Oh, I can make you talk..” Dipper rips the rest of his shirt open. The last couple buttons bounce off into the room, and Dipper slides his hands up that chest, down again to Bill’s stomach. It’s all smooth skin, hot to the touch - “The hard part is getting you to shut up.”
Bill lets out a sharp laugh. Being an asshole doesn’t mean he’s not self-aware. Dipper forces a smile off his own face.
When Dipper undoes Bill’s belt, he chuckles. When Dipper tugs the pants down, underwear and all, he lifts his hips to let them slide off. Bill even kicks the fabric off his legs, too, which is helpful; Dipper didn’t want to fiddle with that part.
It leaves Bill naked, except for the still-opened shirt. Fully hard, cock resting on his stomach; still grinning, and still impenetrably smug.
Dipper narrows his eyes, trying to keep his face stern. Squeezing Bill’s thigh, and feeling the muscle jump under his palm.
“I get it.” He says, shifting lower. His hands stroke the inside of Bill’s thighs, up his hips. “The great Bill Cipher thinks he can resist anything.”
“Sure can!” Bill grins, head rising to track Dipper’s descent. He shifts his legs apart, making it easy to kneel between them. “I can’t imagine you’ve got anything in stor-”
Dipper ignores him. He keeps his eyes on Bill, tongue flickering out. A quick, wet thing, licking against his length..
“Nh.” Bill grunts. Eye fluttering shut, he swallows visibly. "Taking a new tactic, huh.” The smirk returns, sharper now. “That's hardly fair!"
“All's fair in lust and war.” Dipper recites the old demonic phrase. He pulls Bill’s cock upright, watching him suck in a breath - and smiles. “You're going to do what I want."
“You can try,” Bill purrs. His teeth are bared in his wide, pleased smile. “Do your worst.”
Taking Bill in his mouth is a guilty pleasure. Not that he should feel guilty, as Bill’s often repeated, with great enthusiasm - but Dipper groans as he takes Bill in, hand gripping the base of his cock.
It’s hot and hard, twitching again as Dipper idly rolls his tongue around. He opens up, mouth drawing in the thick length of him, cheeks hollowing out. Bill lasts a whole ten seconds before his hips rock up into it; a couple quick jerks. Soon he’s trying to fuck into his mouth, bracing a foot on the mattress, knee raised.
Dipper pulls back and plants a kiss on the head. Underneath him, Bill swears and his hips hit the mattress with a thump. He’s slightly pink in the face, arms tense and eye shut.
Teasing. Taunting. Downright tormenting - now he sees what Bill sees in this.
The appeal.
He licks his lips as he draws back, to see Bill’s cock jump in place, a muscle in his thigh twitch rapidly - then taking it back in, groaning around Bill’s cock as his hips make short, desperate motions..
Bill wants to fuck his mouth, he needs to feel more - he can take it, he’s immortal, but Dipper can too, he’s good at this - undulating his tongue on the underside as Bill hits the back of his throat, and hearing a loud, breathless swear.
Bill might be all-knowing, all-powerful, and all-too-put together in most situations.
He’s not now.
Instead, he’s swearing, low. Repeating and the same word, over and over again. His face is flushed and his chest heaves, rising and falling with heavy breaths. He’s starting to sweat a little, turning his head to the side, trying so hard not to admit he loves this.
There’s pleasure in seeing Bill come so undone by this. Pleasure in knowing that he’s doing this, and fuck, it is good to suck his cock, Dipper’s already getting hard again himself.
“You-” There’s a clang on the headboard as Bill tries to reach out, and gets held up. He swears again, under his breath. “Gnh.”
Dipper draws away. But he takes it slow, drawing it out far longer than Bill did. Bobbing back down briefly, and feeling Bill try to stay in until Dipper finally lets his cock fall from between his lips, dropping wet and throbbing onto Bill’s stomach.
“Is it good?” He asks. He strokes Bill’s length a couple times, watching Bill shudder. Bill lets his head drop back on the pillow, grunting something incoherent. One of his legs is shaking in place, not quite kicking out.
“You can come in my mouth, if you want.” Dipper says, hearing Bill make a soft groan, nearly needy - but wait, right, the roleplay - “Just tell me what I want to hear.”
Bill bares his teeth. Breathing slower now, like he’s controlling it. His eye darts around under the closed lid, jaw tense.
Dipper licks up the underside of his dick, kissing just under the head. Bill’s cock twitches again, and he keeps up his assault with no small amount of pride.
There’s no way Bill can resist much longer. He’s already so close.
Bill breathes in, and lets it out, shuddering and slow. He pauses for a long moment. Then, slowly, he looks up from his pillow.
“You…” Bill starts. His tongue flicks out over his lips, and he flashes his most charming smile. “Are so goddamn good at this.”
Dipper feels a burst of embarrassed pleasure. He ducks his head a little, trying not to smile. “Um.”
There... There’s usually a retort Dipper can offer. But that wasn’t an insult. So. “Um.” He repeats, like an idiot.
Underneath him, Bill’s smile slowly, smugly widens into a full-blown grin.
“So, yeah,” Bill makes a dismissive gesture with his bound hands. “Go ahead, take your time! I could watch you sucking me off all day.” He settles down on the sheets. Acting perfectly relaxed - though his cock tells a different story. “You’re giving me enough jerk off material for eons.”
“Bastard.” Dipper’s really trying not to smile, and he knows his face is red. Even his ears feel hot by now. “You’re-”
He stops. The protest dies before it fully forms.
Because Dipper knows Bill. All his tells. When Bill’s bending the truth, or when saying something he doesn’t believe. When he’s straight-up lying it’s obvious, and Dipper could pinpoint a misleading phrase from a mile.
This time, Bill’s not lying. It’s true.
All of it.
“Oh.” Dipper doesn’t have a followup. The burn of embarrassment flares in him; he must be blushing down to his chest at this point. Bill really -
He looks down - Bill’s dick, almost straining in his hand - but looking at his face isn’t better, Dipper tucks his cheek against one rising shoulder, face feeling hot on his own skin.
“I’ve been watching you, sapling. All the time.” Bill’s smug grin remains; he’s almost too pleased with himself, even though he’s still telling the truth - . “You have no idea how good you look. How hard you make me.” His eye trails over Dipper, and his cock twitches against his stomach. “Every time I come, I think about how much better it would be if I had you in my bed.”
God, and he does, too. Bill’s not playing a role - or at least, not making this up. They’ve done so much together and Bill’s loved it, every moment, enough to make a mental video of them - and there’s proof of Bill’s lust, wet from Dipper’s mouth and hard in his hand.
Dipper doesn’t know what to say. He has Bill in one hand, himself in the other, moving a little faster now, and it’s hard to focus. He shuts his eyes, trying not to pant.
”You’ve got a great mouth on you, kid. But it looks absolutely perfect around my cock.” Bill pulls on the restraints, lifting himself up to meet Dipper’s eyes - he lowers his head, avoiding it - “You’ve got a talent.” Bill strains to follow his gaze, headboard creaking at the pressure. His cock jumps in Dipper’s grip, grinning sharply. “Put it to use? And I’ll give you everything you want.”
Dipper had already ducked back down. It’s right there - and hell, sucking Bill’s dick is less embarrassing than listening to what he was saying. Dipper tastes him, opens for him. Feeling good, with the thick weight in his mouth, on his tongue. He holds the rest of his length with his other hand, face burning.
“That’s it.” Bill’s breathing hard, voice low. He tilts his head up, watching with his eye half-lidded = and a growing smirk. “Good boy.”
Dipper makes a noise that’s nearly a choke, a soft, gagged whimper. Good at this, he’s good - he moans. Bill tastes of skin and salt, a heavy warm weight that feels good to suck. He pulls back to the head, cheeks hollowing and tongue flickering, before swallowing him down again.
“You- Nh.” Bill curses, tossing his head to one side. One of his legs starts jogging in place, his teeth clenched. “Gonna-”
Dipper doesn’t stop, he strokes and groans in encouragement. Feeling Bill twitch as he comes, swallowing slowly. Bill chants something low under his breath before it all melds into a low moan. Even when he’s finished, Dipper keeps going, just to watch Bill shudder under him like he’s being pleasantly electrocuted, eye rolling back in his skull.
When Dipper finally sits up, Bill’s downright dazed. Splayed out, blinking unfocused. Dipper wipes his mouth, and pats his thigh. A warm glow of pride overcomes the warmth in his cheeks.
So what if he’s got an infinite, powerful demon. Or if he’s a nerd. When it comes to this, even Bill Cipher isn’t his match.
“Ten outta ten.” Bill says, after a moment. He spent a good ten seconds blinking at the ceiling, eye unfocused. One of his hands gives a lazy thumbs up, then droops in its manacle. “A million stars. Would come back again, for eternity.” A quick smirk. “Give the server a massive tip.”
Dipper slaps his hip, just to make a point about puns. Then pauses. He’s uncomfortably hard himself, and now that he’s not distracted - Bill’s dick is flagging, but there's more than a few toys scattered over the mattress, there’s lube. Everything he could use to help himself out. He leans over -
“No toys,” Bill snaps, and Dipper jerks to attention. He hesitates. Already his hand hovers over the lube, just next to something that’s smaller than Bill, but -
“Aw, you’re lonely, aren’tcha?” Bill interrupts again. Starting to shake his head in mock pity. “I know what you need - and I’m better than any of those.” He glances down at own groin, a cocky grin on his face. “I could make you come without you ever touching yourself.”
God, Bill’s being oddly truthful today, and again, he’s right. He has managed that before, Dipper can feel his dick jump at the very idea of it. It’s... Intense, and rough. Feeling that demanding demon over him, around him, deep inside of him - and actually, coming on Bill’s cock sounds extremely fantastic right now.
Dipper fumbles the lube for a second, he reaches to stroke Bill into hardness again, get him ready-
“Ah ah ah,” chides Bill. He rolls his hips to the side, dodging Dipper’s touch. “Where’s the romance?” He flutters his eyelashes, his face in a mocking pout. “You can’t even gimme a kiss first?”
Dipper nearly snorts. They’re in the middle of - Bill’s an all powerful demon. He knows so much. He controls an entire nightmare realm, and so many beings think he’s ‘cool’. Unassailable. Unflappable.
Bill Cipher is all of those things - and he says he married a nerd. Which is, okay. A fair statement.
But It takes one to know one.
“Fine.” Dipper moves up closer, cupping Bill’s cheek. He’s trying not to smile, and failing. “Just one, though.”
Less than two seconds later, he proves himself a liar. Kissing Bill never stops with just a peck. They spend longer than they should, tangled together. Dipper lying halfway on him, Bill rising against his restraints to meet him, and his tongue flickering into Dipper’s mouth
Dipper finally gets a hand on him, where Bill’s already halfway to attention. Spreading lube over him in slow firm strokes, feeling him harden quickly, hot under his palm. Bill’s thick length slides easily under his touch, he can feel a vague pulse through it.
Dipper ducks his head next to Bill’s reaching behind himself. He just - needs to prepare a little, and then- he bites his lip, slipping fingers inside.
Reaching behind himself never gives him the right angle, but. Dipper tucks his chin against his chest as he works himself slowly, twisting his fingers. He hasn’t done this in a while. It’s hard to relax. He breathes slowly, controlled - maybe he needs to spread his legs more -
Which is when Bill surges up underneath him, body arching up like a bow. “You- Don’t be a tease, kid.” The words come out in a low growl, too eager to be anything but honest. “At least turn around and let me watch.”
Dipper stops out of sheer surprise. He pauses, looking up into a wolfish grin.
“C’mere. Sapling. You want some help? Let me give you a hand.” Bill licks his lips. He’s trying to nudge him with a hip, his cock hard again, and his eye alight. “I wanna touch you.”
Right, that would be better. Ten times better than Dipper doing it himself. Bill’s long fingers, pushing inside him - he swears under his breath, scooting upward, and it’s only as the tips of his fingers touch the manacle that he thinks enough to pause.
Dipper looks down at Bill. Bill blinks up at him, eye full of desire -
After a moment, Dipper glares.
The corner of Bill’s mouth quirks up, a bit wryly. “Go on, do it.” He wiggles his fingers in the restraints. Almost teasingly. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
Dipper gives him a long, long look, before rolling his eyes.
“Fine.” He repeats, smiling this time. “You jerk.” He undoes one of the restraints.
The clasp opens, the leather parts. Bill stretches his arm out, raising it up front of himself with a pleased grin. Dipper moves onto the next manacle, bracing himself on Bill’s chest for balance -
Bill yanks his other arm, hard. The chain on the headboard snaps with a sharp, metallic clink, and there’s not even time to flinch as Bill lunges up from the bed.
Dipper gasps, half a second after the fact. Much too late, at that. Already there’s a strong arm around his waist, a firm grip in his hair. Dipper didn’t think about how fast Bill can be before he was already caught.
“You really thought you could bind me, of all demons.” Bill shakes his head with slow amusement. He pulls Dipper’s head back and to one side, exposing his neck. “And they call me arrogant”
“Don’t get me wrong, though,” Bill continues, beaming. Starting to nose against that exposed skin, pressing his lips against Dipper’s rapid pulse. Dipper grits his teeth, letting out a soft grunt. He scrambles for purchase on Bill’s shoulders. “It’s adorable.”
“I-” Dipper cuts himself off. Bill’s just licked his neck. Then his ear, teeth grazing against the lobe - now he’s kissing just behind it. “That’s-!” Then. Teeth, on his neck, a mouth on his skin - DIpper swears, and clasps a hand on Bill’s neck in return - “Not fair.”
Bill laughs against Dipper’s shoulder. “All’s fair in lust and war!” He starts trailing kisses up the shoulder, to his neck. “Get used to it.” His mouth sucks in the soft skin tongue flicking over it and absolutely leaving a hickey. Marking him up.
There’s a strong, searching hand between Dipper’s legs, sliding up the back of his thigh. But even when he does struggle, he can’t pull away. Bill’s all over him, surrounding him. Making him his. He’s been captured, there’s no escaping his attention -
Dipper shuts his eyes. He shuffles his knees further apart.
“You could have run, but no! That’s not what you wanted.” Bill slides slick fingers inside him, deeper than Dipper could reach - right there. They spread him open, then press together, then flex - pleasure bursts inside him, god it’s been too long - “You wanted this.”
Dipper shakes his head, but that’s pointless. And obviously a lie; Bill grins as he continues. “You wanted to get fucked. But you’re a skeptic, I get it.” The way he splays his fingers makes Dipper ache, in a good way, he digs his nails into Bill’s back - “You just needed a trial run, first!”
Part of Dipper wants to say that it’s a logical move. That if you’re going to be someone’s… If it’s going to be a sex thing, you should find out if -
Then overthinking takes a backseat, Dipper’s mouth shutting with a click as Bill keeps pressing. Because Bill, the bastard, has clever hands, and a cleverer mind for angles, and his fingers are pushing in so deep. He barely hears Bill asking, “How’dya like it so far?”
“‘S good. Yeah.” The words fall senseless from Dipper’s lips. Very good. He was right, perfectly so, he made absolutely the right choice. When Bill curls his fingers there’s a bright spark, and Dipper pushes into that point of pleasure, grabbing at the back of Bill’s neck, at his shoulders, fumbling in sudden desperation. “More. Please.”
“In a minute.” Bill’s hand never stops, fingers sliding in and out. Avoiding the hitting quite right, now, the bastard - Dipper can feel his breathing pick up, hot on his shoulder. The leather of the manacle is still around Bill’s wrist, cool on Dipper’s skin. “You’re so tight.”
Dipper tugs at him, trying to draw him in. It doesn’t work, even if he really pulls - until Bill finally caves, sliding his fingers out. “And demanding.” He eases Dipper back then, pushing him down on the bed. “I picked exactly the right mortal.”
Dipper tries to get comfortable on the sheets - but Bill hauls him in by his hips. He’s kneeling, which leaves Dipper’s legs splayed over his own. Bill’s cock bobs obscenely over Dipper’s, a rude comparison. “You sure you want this?”
Dipper flips him off. This jerk. Like he can’t see how much he wants it, it’s right there. He’s been hard for a while, extremely so, even now his dick taps on his stomach with urgency, jerking at the very thought of Bill inside him. Bill’s just being a tease.
He nods, anyway, just to move things along.
“Alright, kid. You got this.” Bill shifts up slightly, a smile in his voice. He holds onto Dipper’s hip, starting to guide the thick tip of his cock inside. “You can-” The blunt head of it slips inside, Dipper can see Bill pushing in and feel it, hot pressure entering. “Take all of it.”
Which Dipper’s done before. He’s ready for it. It’s thick and hot as always, but with this angle it’s - Dipper feels his toes curl, he tosses his head back with a whine - Just right. “Yeah.”
“That’s a good boy,” Bill purrs, thrusting shallow, a quick in-and-out, easing himself deeper, a long stroke following - “All mine. My perfect little pet. ” Each word emphasized with another thrust, another push deeper, more firm pressure inside that leaves Dipper breathless. The last bit of chain from the manacle is chill against his hip. “My personal plaything.”
Dipper shoves a hand over his face, whining a protest. He’s - he’s not a - that. But he is, a little. He wants Bill to ‘play’ with him, a lot. He’s wanted it for a while, and now he has it, Bill’s totally inside him, hot and thick. Taking his time, not really fucking him like he could, and Dipper wants more so much he could almost - “Ah.”
“Now that. Is a fantastic look for you.” Bill’s voice is nearly a growl, his grin truly feral. He tugs Dipper closer, shifting up on his knees as he sets a quicker pace. “I could look at that face all day. Or night, as it were.” He draws back slightly, running his thumb around where they’re joined, eye glowing bright. “Or just at you stretched out around me.”
Dipper nods again, helplessly. He can feel it, like it’s bigger than usual, but whether it’s the angle or the time he’s spent alone, he can’t tell. There’s a hot burst of pleasure each time Bill fucks into him; he’s sweating and the sheets getting damp under his back, and in his hands. Holding on tight, and trying to hook his legs around Bill.
“Gonna have you over and over again.” Bill mutters. He's urgently pulling Dipper closer, leaning forward as he rises up slightly. “And you’ll love it.” In this position his cock sends stars swimming into Dipper’s vision, it's so much. His legs are tense, and they’re starting to shake. “Every time I fuck you. Every time I come inside you.”
Damn it, Bill keeps talking; he never stops when he should - All things Dipper can picture in his mind, clear as if it were a dream. He wouldn't have to get Bill’s attention, Bill would be all over him, Dipper would be naked and ashamed and attended to. Whenever he wanted, Bill would be touching him. Kissing his neck, and his chest, shoving him down and fucking him like this, leaving Dipper shaking and waiting until he did it again, getting fucked and touched and adored -
“Use you whenever I want.” Bill rises up to his knees, holding Dipper fully by his hips with unnaturally strong hands, fucking into him rough and urgent. “Let you wait for me, naked in my bed, with all that cum inside you. Touching yourself. “ Bill leans in, teeth bared, breathing hard. He squeezes tight enough to bruise - “Until I bend you over and fill you up again.”
The steady pound of Bill’s cock is building up pleasure too quickly; Dipper can feel it deep in him, ready to make good on his words; every time Bill fucks into him a bead of clear precome drips from his cock, Dipper’s so close he aches - “‘M gonna come.” Dipper blurts, holding onto the sheets, tight. Back arches, nearly whimpering- “Gonna come, please.”
“Sexy little mind. Cute goddamned body. Too eager.” Bill hisses the words out, keeping a steady, near-violent pace, his skin shining with sweat. “Too cute.” He yanks Dipper in tight, arms shaking slightly, and Dipper can feel his cock twitch inside, the added pressure makes him groan - “Everything I wanted.” Bill pants, teeth bared as his eye flutters shut, pressing their hips together. “Fuck, I love you.”
Dipper comes with a sharp, sweet shock, gripping at the sheets, mouthing at the air. Bill holds him close, hips jerking in place, balls deep, pulsing inside him.
Bill squeezes him a little tighter, dropping back onto his seated position. Dipper collapses, boneless from his orgasm - and relieved at the lack of strain on his back. He can feel Bill pulsing inside, hips still jerking faintly in the last few motions.
Dipper lets his head drop back. Trying to catch his breath. Bill stills in place, breathing slower. Eye shut. Until he eventually sighs. He pulls back and away, only to drop on top of Dipper, cheek resting on his chest.
After a moment, Dipper reaches up to card his fingers through Bill’s hair.
Sleeping with Bill is always… interesting. In one way or another Over time he’s been introduced to things he thought were only on the internet, not something people actually did. Hearing Bill say something vaguely normal is strange.
And nice.
They lie there for a bit. Spending time in a calm post-sex daze, comfortable and dozy. Bill raises his arm, and Dipper obligingly unlatches the broken manacle, letting it drop.
With a sigh, Bill turns his head. Finally, totally relaxed, humming in contentment against Dipper’s chest. Dipper keeps petting him idly. Still thinking. Maybe too much, but he’s never going to not.
Even if it was said during sex… there should be a response. Right? If anything, it’s one of the few times he doesn’t have to feel awkward saying it out loud.
“Love you too.” Dipper leans up, planting a quick kiss on Bill’s head, before dropping back. He hugs his idiot demon a little tighter.
Bill makes a low, pleased sound, getting comfortable - then suddenly jerks in place. His head doesn’t rise, but Dipper feels him go tense.
“Ahem. Cute, kid. But you musta misheard me.” Bill clears his throat without looking up. And raises a finger, wagging it. “I said I love fucking you.”
“Uh huh.” Lies, again. Weird one for him to pull, though. Bill doesn't say that sort of thing often, but he’s never outright denied it before. “Sure.”
Dipper keeps running his hand through Bill’s hair, ruffling it slightly. Bill lets out an annoyed grunt, but doesn’t move, face planted on Dipper’s chest. For some reason the tips of his ears are pink.
But. Wait.
Demons do things backwards.
Hell, Dipper’s just read more articles than he’d admit about this exact topic. He should have figured. Though he was… distracted. When it happened.
“Well. If you had said something that kinky,” Dipper continues, feeling Bill mouth a swear against his skin. He thunks his forehead against his human pillow, and Dipper starts to smile. “I would’ve been really into it.”
Bill looks up. Eye narrowing.
Watching his expression turn from annoyed to conflicted is the third best thing that’s happened today.
“Kind of a shame,” Dipper adds, dropping his hands to his sides. He shrugs, then tucks his arms behind his head. “I should have guessed you wouldn’t be that sexy.”
“Hey!”
A brief tussle ensues. Not a fight, and not quite a wrestle. Mostly, it’s Bill jostling Dipper around and Dipper fending him off, neither with much force. He gets two sharp nips on his ear, then gentle teeth on his shoulder. Bill worries the flesh for a moment - a token gesture - before rolling off Dipper with a satisfied grunt.
Dipper follows, throwing an arm over his demon. And when he cuddles up against Bill’s side, he feels Bill adjust to meet him.
Bill lets out a pleased sigh Relaxed, for once. Settling into that lazy, post-sex lassitude that Dipper only sees on rare occasions. Radiating smugness, too; he’s obviously congratulating himself. Dipper could see that in his face from a mile away.
Dipper narrows his eyes. It’s nice when Bill’s calm - but he’s also telling himself he's the greatest, cleverest, most superlative demon ever. That gets annoying.
He’s proven correct moments later, when Bill starts to chuckle.
“I can’t believe you thought you needed advice to seduce me.” Bill says. He shakes his head, almost incredulous. There’s a fond grin on his face. “I married a moron.”
The buried complement is in one of its shallowest graves yet. Dipper narrows his eyes. He would hit him with a pillow, but he’s using Bill for that right now. So he won’t.
“Fine.” He pats Bill’s chest instead. Feeling warm, and pretty relaxed himself. “Next time I won’t let you leave.”
“Go ahead.”
“I’ll interrupt everything,” Dipper insists. He props himself up on one elbow, glaring without any heat at Bill’s stupid handsome face. “You’ll never get any plans done.”
A smirk, and a lazy shrug. Bill even rolls his eye, grinning wider. “Hey, you can try.”
“You asked for it, Bill Cipher” Dipper’s smiling now. He rolls on top of his idiot demon, cupping his face, shaking it in his grasp just to watch Bill get grumpy. “Prepare to be bored senseless, hanging out with some human all the time.”
“Pfft, hardly!” Bill waves that off like it’s not even an issue. He also grabs Dipper’s butt. “You’ll never manage it.”
Hearing Bill practically perform necromancy on the usually buried compliments is - The only retort there is kissing him stupid. As always it disarms him; a demon, easily subdued. An idiot, who thinks just because his tongue is in Dipper’s mouth that he’s won.
All demons are stupid in the ways of romance. Research alone has proven that. And… real life has kind of proven that Dipper’s… not the greatest either.
Too bad for, Bill, though. Infinite knowledge, insane power. And stupid, and overlooking things. A gossip and a nerd. He admitted it already - too easily seduced, if you’re the right person.
It’s too late for Bill to win this one. He’s already met his match.
“Leave the gossip rags outta the bedroom, sapling.They’re made by idiots, for idiots. Terrible advice, all round.” Bill adds, once they’ve parted again again. He walks his fingers up Dipper’s back, running a hand over the back of his neck - then makes a face, as a thought strikes him. “I’m just glad you didn’t try the starfruit thing.”
Dipper…. Probably shouldn’t ask. If Bill thinks it’s bad, who knows what it looks like to a mortal. But hell, he’s always curious. Dipper sits up. “Sorry, the what thing?”
“Oh man, I gotta show you!” Bill perks up. He shuffles into a seated position, leaning against the headboard. One snap of the fingers, and magazine blinks into existence on his lap. “It’s horrible.”
Dipper scoots up and over, resting his head on Bill’s shoulder. Watching, as he flips to the advice column.
Turns out Bill has collected more than a few issues himself. Not for advice, but out of sheer amusement.
If Dipper thought humans gave each other bad advice, holy shit. He’s amazed he got anything useful from his own research. For every drop of decent advice, the rest are insane by any standard. Demons have to be actively fucking each other over, they can’t truly believe any of this crap.
Most of the time, Dipper bickers with his husband, while Bill finds points to argue right back. It’s more fun than Dipper will ever say out loud, and Bill enjoys it immensely.
This time, they’re sitting together. Bill nudging him to read another article, and Dipper pointing out how bad demonic advice is about humans. There’s more than a few magazines, and they comb over every single awful inch of them.
Reading how dumb and wrong other beings are. How they’re ridiculous and stupid and terrible - it’s another contest, kind of. Bill’s creative with his wordplay, mocking every single aspect. Dipper, though, has more pointed insights, and one of them makes Bill laugh so hard he nearly chokes on his own spit.
It’s different. It’s new.
And it’s fun.
Spending time with Bill is both unusual, and insane. It defies all natural laws, every legal one, and common sense is completely tossed out the window. Demons would think half their dates are boring. Humans would think the rest are insane.
For once, Bill had the right sentiment when it came to other people..
‘Screw ‘em’, is pretty good advice.
“Y’know, I had a centerfold in onna these things a couple centuries ago.” Bill admits, on the fifth issue. He taps his chin thoughtfully. “Can’t recall which one, though.”
“I bet it was awful,” Dipper lies. He hopes the corner of glossy paper hanging out from under his mattress won't be too obvious. “You’re the worst.”
“I am,” Bill says, with the usual amount of pride. His chest puffs out a little, he raises his chin.
Dipper takes Bill’s hand in his own, squeezing tight. “You are.”
Fuck it. They don’t have to make sense to anyone else. Bill’s incomprehensible to nearly everyone as it is, and Dipper barely understands himself half the time -
But the more time they spend together, the more they get each other.
And it’s never, ever boring.
Bill beams at him, pulling Dipper in for a kiss. Before he has a chance to take charge, Dipper puts his tongue in Bill’s mouth first. Another contest, that Bill easily takes him up on, surging in for another kiss - He only breaks off halfway through to start laughing.
Demonic, human, or otherwise - No matter how normal or weird it gets -
Dipper smiles, and holds Bill tighter. Feeling his chest shake with amusement, a warm body lying on him.
He knows they’ll have plenty of time together.
#Not Safe for the working#familiar!au#This really needed another editing pass but maybe I'll do that if I ever put this up on AO3#I just reached the point where I couldn't look at it anymore and had to get it out of my brain for a bit#My apologies that this is all I have to offer you#At least it may bring you some amusement#Uhhh usually I have fun tag facts let's see#Oh yeah the event Bill was hosting was absolutely a demonic invasion of some sort#It's just that demons *see* it as a party#And wouldn't you know it it helps if you've got a major heavyweight for your scheduled shenanigans#Because you know that when it's on a timetable your party favors/victims are going to mount a defense#Imagine some demon hanging up after Dipper throws the phone#Another asking 'so is Bill gonna show up'#A slow shake of the head - if they have a head - 'he's getting laid instead :('#Sorry Dipper you made it pretty obvious what was going on#And then the 'party' was an absolute disaster#Bill says it serves them right; Dipper is mostly unaware of all of this#Does this mean that Bill will let himself be in this situation again??? Yes. Yes it does#Bless you Dipper you pulled out several stops but you didn't know what to do once you had said stops pulled#Anyway hope it wasn't too awful guys!! I'm working on other stuff too#I'm gonna go lie down now
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May I request what it would be like to be Stanford's s/o who he's knows since he was a child?
Made this more about him crushing on somebody he knew since he was a child . Sorry abt that <//3 got carried away
Overall, pretty good (and interesting!) upon knowing him as a kid, you were his only friend outside of his brother. And you were close to his brother as well! As a result though, you were bullied quite a bit for being friends with them. When Stanford couldn’t protect you, Stanley could. When you didn’t understand something in school, Stanford helped. When you wanted to learn to protect yourself better, Stanley helped. As you got older, the boys became increasingly aware of how much they cared for you. Stanford was more aware of him having a total crush on you, and Stanley was more aware of how he considered you to be his best friend (along with Stanford). Stanley often teased Stanford for his crush, especially when you’d have the occasional boyfriend in highschool. It all came to an end when the brothers parted ways. You lost contact with the both of them for the most part, but had done your best to stay in touch.
You all had so much going on, Stanford was in college and Stanley was going place to place. You were simply working, not having the money for a good college, unsure what you wanted to do with your life. Stanford and you remained that close relationship you always had, but he was much more busy, focused on his studies and eventfully on a some new invention. Or something. You got a vague idea of what he was doing. Perhaps he didn’t have the time. Or maybe he thought you’d think he’s crazy. Or maybe he wanted to keep you safe. Or maybe, he didn’t trust you. You didn’t know. You had felt your relationship lacked what it had, it lacked as much trust and honesty it seemed. He lied about how tired he was, he lied about himself being unhappy, that he was fine.
And you hadn’t seen Stanley in god knows how long. You missed your friend, if he was here he’d be knocking some sense into his brother by now. Regardless, the both of you were called by the man, to come over to his place. He didn’t have much time to explain what was going on, but he was exhausted. It was obvious he looked like shit, Stanley didn’t seem to be doing all that great nowadays either. You could barely function as the two had fought with eachother. Normally you’d be there to mediate their relationship, but this was different. You couldn’t fix this. A part of you wished that you had done something, because he was gone for 30 long years.
It gave you some missed time with Stanley, at the very least. And over the years you both had decided to just live together, neither of you wanting to be alone. Not with what you saw happen to your best friend. His best friend. For years, you both figured out things that Stanford didn’t tell you about, looked for and read the books. It wasn’t until Stanley’s wonderful great Niece and Nephew came along, did you get all of them, and did you get to see Stanford again. You never thought you’d see him again, he felt the same.
Even if the twin brothers had a lot of making up to do, all Stanford could focus on at the moment was you. A part of him just wanted to tell you everything. After all he’s learned, after all the time he’s been away from you, he just wants to tell you how he feels. But he didn’t. There was so much going on. Perhaps he was just happy to have you in his life again. He was bright again, it’s been so long since he felt that giddy feeling, the warmth in his chest, the softest smile Dipper thinks he’s ever seen Stanford give somebody. He loves you. Not a simple love that Mabel throws around. He’s in love love. He probably has been, forever.
Ever since you three were little, Stanley tried to get Stanford to say how he felt. To no avail. Never listened. He was too much of a coward. He hated himself for it at times, but ultimately decided he had no reason to. Ever since highschool, he had realized (or thought he realized) you didn’t like him, you never did. Because you went out your way to date cuter, popular guys. Why would you like some nerd like him? As he got older, he got over his insecurities of being too smart, too nerdy, too weird. His attraction towards you never did though. Perhaps, he had just grown content just being with you.
#stanford pines x reader#Stanford x reader#gf x reader#gravity falls x reader#gravity falls ford x reader#gravity falls stanford x reader#ford pines x reader#ford x reader
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Pairings: Johnny x Reader, ft. nct 127
Words: 4.3K
Warnings: Language (there is almost always language in my writings), angst, some fluff
Request: Angst 42 and 48 ➵ “You promised.” “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t leave.” / @jungcherie
(im so sorry i took so long.... i turned a drabble into a story... oops)
Johnny Suh had a reputation that was unmatched.
There was no other way to put it.
And a reputation like his left trails of tears.
A pool of tears that you were currently drowning in.
It was obvious Johnny was dangerous, perhaps that’s why you were drawn to him. While every single one of your instincts had you fighting and rejecting him, you were desperate for him all the more.
It was March 13th that you lost your first will.
“Y/N, right?”
You turned around to find a familiar face towering over you.
“Yeah.”
It was that stupid smile that had you.
“Hey, we have have Communications together. I was wondering if you wanted to do that project together?” He scratched the back of his neck like he was embarrassed. “I just know that you’re insanely smart so... Sorry, wait, that sounds like I’m just talking to you for your grades.”
You giggled nervously, a habit that you did when you were uncomfortable.
“Look, I just... do you? You know, wanna do the project together? I mean, I’m a pretty smooth talker so I can do the presentation. I get good grades too...”
Stupid smile.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Alright. There’s actually a little party at my frat tonight, you maybe wanna come? Get to know each other before we drown in work?”
Fucking stupid smile.
“Yeah. I’d like that.” You blushed at the idea, cursing at yourself for being so obvious.
Parties weren’t really your thing.
But at the time Johnny Suh was.
Your ears were pounding because of the insanely loud level the music was at. You were actually shocked that no one had called the cops with a noise complaint, but the fact that they were on frat row made more sense.
“Y/N. You made it.” A arm was flung over your shoulder and, thankfully the lights were both dim and flashing enough that he couldn’t see the way that you blushed at the action.
“Yeah. Is it always this loud?” You asked, still not so comfortable with the atmosphere.
“What?” Johnny yelled, pointing at his ear, indicating that he couldn’t hear you. Of course he fucking couldn’t. Then he jerked his thumb to the right, nodding at the backyard, which was seemingly empty.
With his hand placed on your back, he guided you outside, your head already thanking him from the escape of noise pollution. It was far better outside of the house.
The two of you collapsed onto the swinging chair, sighing as you cleared your head.
“So parties aren’t really your thing?” Johnny leaned closer, noting the look of relief that you had donned the moment you exited.
“It’s not that I hate them... I’m just not a fan. I mean a bunch of sweaty, horny drunk people grinding on each other. I just like smaller things.” You explained, staring up at the dark sky, shivering slightly at the cool breeze.
“You didn’t have to come.” Johnny suddenly looked guilty, “I didn’t mean to force you into coming, I just... thought I’d invite you.”
You quickly backtracked, “No, you didn’t force me. If I didn’t want to come, I wouldn’t have.” You ignored the voice in the back of your head that begged to differ.
“Right.” He grinned, as if he could read your mind. “You’re not great at lying, but I’m gonna pretend that I believe you.”
You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.
“Were you playing beer pong?” You asked suddenly, causing him to look at you in confusion.
“Yeah, how’d you know?”
You laughed, looking away from him, “You have quite the reputation Mr. Suh, even someone like me knows the extent of your skills.”
Johnny smirked, liking how easy you were making it for him. “Is that so? Is that the only skill of mine you’ve heard about?”
You raised your eyebrows, hating the turn that your mind took. “W-what kind of other skills did you have in mind?” You stuttered out.
Suddenly it felt like you were caged in, his arms tense around your frame, causing you to lean back against the back of the swing.
“Tell me what you’ve heard.”
You averted your eyes, unable to take his heavy gaze. His eyes had turned dark, full of lust, and you tried desperately to forget the effect they were having on you.
As if sensing how uncomfortable you were getting, he backed off, dusting off some invisible dirt on his shoulder. He cocked his head to the side with a sly smile, happy with a new challenge.
Things weren’t going to be as easy as he thought they were, but that’s what made it fun.
“No that’s so stupid. Are you kidding me? Robin could absolutely never beat Batman. Is that even a question?” Your hands were waving animately, far too much for an argument about fictional superheroes.
“Sure. I’m just saying that Robin could totally catch him off guard, like out of the blue, you know.” Johnny slurped on his drink shrugging his shoulders like he didn’t care.
“No. Absolutely not. First of all Robin doesn’t have the guts to do something like that and second of all Robin doesn’t have any powers. How on Earth would he beat him?”
“Umm... Batman doesn’t have powers either.” He made a duh face at you, which you chose to ignore.
“Yeah, well he’s got money, and that’s basically a super power.”
“Let’s be real, Batman isn’t even really a real superhero. He’s just a hero. Period.”
You huffed, rolling your eyes at the argument. “That’s a whole different story.”
“I’m just saying.” He sang back teasingly.
“And I’m just saying that this is stupid. How did we even get here?” You laughed, trying to remember how this conversation came about.
“Uh, you made the bold choice of saying that the Batman vs. Superman movie was shit. Very controversial by the way.” He frowned at the memory.
You let your bag fall heavily on the library table, earning you a few glares as studying students dug into their books.
You sent an apologetic look before sliding into your seat. “Let’s just get this presentation done. Our presentation date is the 23rd and I don’t even have a clue of what to write it on.”
“Well the topic is influencers that change your life. Do you have anyone in mind?”He asked, flipping through his notebook, which didn’t really have anything but drawings in them.
“Not really, is there anyone for you? I mean influencer is kind of vague isn’t it? We could pick like an athlete too, or a musician. Those are technically influencers right?”
He nodded, resting his chin on his hand. “Yeah. Influencers don’t even have to be famous do they? Like they can just be someone in your life that made a huge impact on you. Like your parents or something.”
“Yeah, I guess. But that’s kind of hard when you’re working in groups. Like you’re not gonna want to talk about my grandma, you know. Like you don’t even know her. It’s probably just easier to use a famous icon.”
“Okay, so who?” He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling like it would give him inspiration.
“Hmmm... maybe we could do someone like Michael Jackson. Like he may not have affected us personally, but he affected the way that the music and performance was seen afterwards. That’s influential and life changing right?”
“I guess.” He cocked his head, “We could at least start with brainstorming ideas for him and then if we feel like it’s not working we can change it.”
“Cool. I guess we can start with that then.”
And you did. You spent every afternoon for the next week and half with each other in the library, and a little more outside of it.
“That one’s the big dipper.”
You grinned following his finger, but had more difficulty finding exactly what he saw.
“How do you know it’s not the little dipper?” You teased, squinting in to the dark, the scattered stars really just looking like paint splatters to you.
“Because that’s the little dipper.” He laughed, moving his index finger slightly to the right.
“Oh.”
Johnny leaned back into your space, smiling at you look of concentration quickly falling as you gave up.
“Where’s the North Star?” You asked turning to face him, but sucking in a harsh breath when you found your nose just centimeters from his.
Johnny lowered his voice, whispering and pointing without even turning away, “Right there, it’s the tail of the little dipper.”
It took more effort than you thought to pull away, eyes searching for it.
He leaned back, resting his body weight on his hands. “See it? It’s the brightest one.”
“No,” You pouted scooting forward, as if that would help you see it. “Oh, wait! I see it!”
Johnny couldn’t stop himself from grinning as he saw your face light up.
“Wow.” Suddenly your tone turned more mellow, still in awe. “I’ve always wanted to find the North Star.”
Johnny’s chest rumbled with laughter. “Why?”
“Well you know. They say if you get lost, just follow the North Star home.” You turned to face him, eyes sparkling with excitement, but the sound of your voice had gone quiet, almost somber. The smile on your face faded into a sad smile as you all but whispered your next words. “Now I can go home.”
Johnny frowned next to you, not liking the sudden turn in mood. He sat up, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you against his chest.
“What makes you think that you’re not home right now?” He mumbled on the top of your head, staring straight out in the dark.
“I don’t know. I can just feel it, you know? Like I’m just constantly uneasy.” You sighed, digging your face into his jacket. “I think I’ll be able to tell when I get there.”
There was something in Johnny’s chest that suddenly ached, and he felt a sharp drop in his stomach at the thought.
“Maybe you’ll only ever know once you’ve left home.” He muttered, “Then you’ll know that this is actually what it feels like, and it’s so much worse when you leave.”
You stilled against him for a moment before relaxing, mulling over the thought. “That’s so sad though. Why do we only know we’re happy once we’re sad?”
Johnny shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. Why does God make us hurt to only to help us heal?”
The sound of the wind passing through trees was the only thing that comforted you at the thought.
“I don’t want to have to heal, I don’t want to hurt in the first place.” You whisper out, feeling the most vulnerable you had in a long time.
“I’ll never hurt you.” He rubbed at your arms soothingly, feeling a lump in the back of his throat, but he pushed it away not liking the unfamiliar feeling.
“Promise?”
“Of course.”
You let your eyes fall, enjoying just the silence and comfort of each other’s arms and minds.
You woke up wrapped in Johnny’s arms, although it was an unfamiliar feeling you welcomed it with open arms.
Lost in your thoughts for the time being you were suddenly reminded of the conversation you had a couple nights ago.
Was this home?
You had never felt so safe before and it scared you. But you weren’t one to run.
“Good morning.” Johnny mumbled out beside you, his morning voice raspy to the ear.
“Morning.” You whispered back, letting his arm flop over your waist.
“Do you like pancakes?” He asked, letting his eyes fall close again.
“Pancakes?”
“Yeah. Taeyong makes some bomb ass pancakes.”
You giggled, “Yeah, I like pancakes. Especially bomb ass pancakes.”
But he didn’t move and it was only after you tapped him questioningly did he speak up. “Do you think he’ll bring them up if I yell loud enough?”
You smacked his chest. “Stop it. We should go down.”
“In a bit.” He answered, nose buried deep in the crevice of your neck.
A few minutes later you heard the clinking of kitchen tools from downstairs and you stirred. “Johnny?”
“Hmmm...”
“Johnny. Let’s go.”
“Five more minutes.” He mumbled, but he let you out of his grasp anyways.
“Fine. I’ll meet you downstairs.” You paused as you passed by the mirror, eyes tracing over the marks on your neck that Johnny had left the night before. You blushed, realizing that you didn’t have anything to cover it up with, but quickly moved on, attempting to find your shorts that were discarded in the frenzy of last night.
“Check under the desk.” Johnny said, sitting up and watching you.
Sure enough that’s where they were, although you weren’t really sure how they managed to get there.
You shrugged on the last of your clothes, turning to find Johnny doing the same. It took him less than three steps to get to you, landing a soft kiss on the top of your head.
“Let’s go.”
Taeyong was undoubtedly the closest of Johnny’s frat brothers to you. He had this really calming and sweet aura about him that just made you want to be friends.
“Good morning Y/N. Blueberry or chocolate?” He asked grinning as he took his eyes off the pan for a second.
“Blueberry please.” You slid onto the bar across from him. “Do you need any help?”
Johnny rubbed your lower back comfortingly, “No, you don’t want to get in his way. That’s when he loses his temper.” He whispered the last bit to you, but Taeyong obviously heard it, sending a sharp glare at him.
“Only when there are incompetent people in my kitchen.” Taeyong muttered back.
Johnny ignored the comment, shaking his head at you, “I’ll have chocolate.”
“You’ll get what you get.” Taeyong piped at him, still not over Johnny’s teasing, who grinned in response.
Both of them knew that Johnny was getting chocolate, Taeyong was really bad at being mean.
“Where’s the others?” Johnny asked, sipping on a cup of coffee.
“At school, as they should be because they are college students.” Taeyong answered, sliding a plate towards you. “Enjoy.”
You thanked him and bit into a piece, almost moaning at the taste. “Damn, Johnny told me they were good but I didn’t think it would be this good.”
Johnny swiped a piece from your plate. “What are you talking about? I told you he made bomb ass pancakes.”
Taeyong slid a plate towards Johnny.
His grin widened. “Thank you. You’re my favorite Taeyong ever.”
“I’m the only Taeyong you know.” He put his hands on his hips. “I should be the favorite.”
Johnny sent a wink in his direction before stabbing a piece.
“So I was thinking, that little bakery next to the park, do you wanna go? They just opened and I’ve been dying to try it.” Johnny asked around a mouthful of pancake.
“Yeah, sure. That sounds good.” You felt your stomach flutter, you were sure whether it was the pancakes or Johnny, but you had a pretty good guess.
“Sweet, we can swing by your place first if you want to get a change of clothes or something.”
You nodded, “Yeah, sounds good.”
“I’m glad that sounds good.” He teased you with a smile.
“Sorry, but it just sounds good. What else do you want me to say?” You pushed back, opting to add another piece into your mouth.
“I don’t know, maybe-”
“Okay, sorry to interrupt your little flirt fest, but can you start that after I leave?” Taeyong asked, making a few pancakes for himself.
“Sorry.” You giggled, sending him a genuine apologetic look.
“I’m not sorry.” Johnny said, shrugging.
You smacked him lightly.
“I’ll take away pancake privileges for a month.” Taeyong quipped, focusing on flipping the pancake.
“Sorry.” Johnny mumbled out under his breath, not one to admit defeat easily.
You laughed at the sight of a pouty Johnny, enjoying the view for the time being.
Waiting for Johnny had become a routine, but honestly you didn’t really mind it. Hanging out on the couch, you had met and befriended quite a few of his frat brothers.
Currently you were sprawled out on the couch with Jungwoo, who was retelling a very interesting story about his trip to the grocery store last week that involved a cereal box and a banana. Although it was a bit of a reach, you nodded and smiled at the right times, not really following the order of events, or really the importance of them.
“What does the fact that you were wearing- and I quote - ‘an incredibly sick pair of joggers’ have anything to do with your story?” You asked, tilting your head in teasing confusion.
“Oh, it doesn’t. I just thought you should know.” He replied matter-of-factly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Right. And I’m so better off now that I know.” You taunted him, voice dripping in sarcasm.
Jungwoo shot you an annoyed, and yet hurt look, before finishing his story. “And that’s how Johnny found out he was allergic to shellfish.”
“Okay. What the fuck? I’m literally so confused.” You cut him off before he could recount his story again. “I don’t really need to hear it again though. Thanks.”
He whined before laying his legs over yours, giving up.
For a few moments, things were quiet as you checked the time. It had already been thirty minutes, where was he?
You rolled your head to the side, finally focusing on the whiteboard that had what scribbles of writing over it.
“What’s the tally for?” You asked, scrunching your nose at the whiteboard that was situated on the far wall of the room.
“Hmmm? The tally?” Jungwoo glanced around looking slightly nervous which had you even more curious. “It’s just a game.”
“Game? What game?” You laughed turning back to see the strikes adorning the board. “It looks like Johnny’s winning.”
“Uhh...” Again with the nervous glances.
You giggled, “You’re losing, aren’t you?” The spot under his name had the fewest tallies and you figured that’s why he was being so shy about it.
Jaehyun entered the room, seemingly in a very important conversation by the way that he was speaking animatedly.
“The game’s over on Friday and Johnny’s gonna win.”
“That’s so stupid. He hasn’t bagged any since Y/N, how is he still gonna win?” Yuta complained all but scowling at the floor, neither of them had yet to notice your presence.
You frowned at the mention of your name, not liking the term ‘bagging’ to be in such close proximity with your name.
“Oh, Mark has a new strike, looks like he finally got Claire into bed.” Yuta continued snorting, “Took him long enough.”
“Wait, what the fuck? How the hell did Taeyong get two strikes?” Jaehyun, squinted at the board.
Yuta snorted, “He had a threesome last night. Can you believe it? This close to the end? It’s like he’s actually trying to compete now.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” You muttered, effectively catching their attention.
“Y/N.” Jaehyun breathed out, eyes wide and darting between you and Jungwoo who was obviously trying to get them to stop talking. “Hey... what’s up? When did you get here?”
“Ummm.... no. What the fuck is going on?”
“What do you mean?” Jaehyun cocked his head, doing his best to pretend like he wasn’t panicking.
“No, I don’t want your bullshit. Just tell me what this game is.” You were using anger to hide your fear. You could feel the pounding of your heart in your head, a throbbing sensation that gave way to a sinking feeling of realization.
At that moment, when his eyes finally met yours. Not Jaehyun’s, not Yuta’s, but Johnny’s as he walked in the room with that fucking stupid smile you felt your last will got out the window. It was at that moment that everything came crashing down.
“Y/N, please can’t we just talk?” Johnny chased after you, begging you to turn around.
“You promised.”
Johnny’s heart dropped at your words, and his chest started closing in in fear. The burning feeling in his throat had him choking, panicking in belated realization.
It wasn’t just the words that you said, it was the way that you said it. So defeated, so broken. So betrayed.
“You promised that you wouldn’t hurt me. Do you remember that? Did you even mean that?” You felt the tears brimming, and you fought the best you could to keep them down. But your wobbling voice let him know.
“Of course I meant it.” He answered breathlessly. “You know me, I don’t say things that I don’t mean.”
“Do I? Do I know you?” You huffed out. “Because I really thought you were someone different.”
“No, I- I’m still me. I’m still Johnny. I just...”
“You just what? You just lied about our entire relationship? If it was even that, because I was just another tally to you wasn’t I? Just another tally on a stupid whiteboard for a stupid game.”
You choked back the tears that were burning in your throat, not bothering to wipe at the ones that managed to escape.
“You know what hurts the most? I actually thought you liked me. I actually thought that you meant all those things that you said to me.”
“I did mean it. I meant every single word, and I still do. Nothing was a lie, my feelings were real. Please just listen to me, I can explain.” He stepped closer, but you took a step back, keeping the distance.
“Explain what? I already heard everything for myself. What are you gonna say, that Jaehyun and Yuta were lying? Hmmm? That it wasn’t a game? That that’s not the reason that you approached me?”
“I...” He couldn’t find any words, because you were right. Every single word that you said was right. He struggled to catch his breath, panicking. “Please don’t leave me.”
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t leave.”
“I love you. I need you. I can’t- I can’t imagine life without you.”
“That’s not enough.” You clenched your jaw, face going slack. It was as if you were losing the will to even be heartbroken over this.
“Please, I-I’ll do anything, what do you want me to do?” He begged, eye brows nearly touching as they furrowed.
“I don’t want anything from you, just stay away from me.” You mumbled out, avoiding his eyes.
“Baby, please.”
“Don’t fucking call me that, I’m not yours, I never was.” You snapped at him, backing away.
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled under his breath and he wasn’t sure if it was meant for you or himself.
“So I’m kinda going rogue here. I know you already hate me, but try not to hate me anymore than you already do.”
Johnny didn’t look anywhere except for you.
The professor seemed to humor him, allowing one of his favorite students to continue with an amused smile on his face.
You on the other hand did not.
You stared at Johnny with a straight face, trying your best to not look flustered.
“The whole point of this assignment was to find someone that changed our lives. But my partner and I struggled to find someone. It’s not that we didn’t have great people around us, its not even that we don’t have people that we admired. It was because no one we came up with really seemed genuine to us. But I found someone. I finally found someone that I could trust, that I let in. But I did something really stupid and fucked it up- excuse my language.”
You watched him stand behind the podium, looking smaller than he ever did.
“You know, before I met you I didn’t think that my life needed changing. I thought I was doing just fine. But then I realized that I wasn’t. I was struggling to even feel normal, to feel like I was living for something. Y/N you helped me find home. Remember when I said that you only understand that you were already home until you lose it? Well I feel it now. And it feels like shit.”
You sucked in a sharp breath, a feeling in the back of your throat burning.
“Y/N. You’re the person who changed my life. And I don’t even deserve that. But I’m here, standing in front of you like a fool because I’m whining about losing the best thing that ever happened to me.”
For a moment you thought he was done, because the silence was deafening.
“Even if you sill hate me after this, I want you to know that you mean more to me than anything else. You are the person that changed my life. You are my person, and I want so badly to be yours.”
There was a beat of silence as he ended abruptly, taking a seat on the other side of the room, eyes still locked on you.
Your professor stood up with a clap. “Well, thank you Johnny for that... interesting presentation.” A wide smile was still on his face despite his word choice. “I guess we should end on that then. Second batch of presentations is on Friday, please be prepared.”
The students of your class stood, shuffling out the exit, voices murmuring to each other.
You sat on the bench outside your lecture hall, watching as Johnny made his way nervously to you.
“You’re an idiot.” You told him as he approached you, bottom lip wobbling against your will. Eventually you broke. “But you’re my idiot.”
Johnny felt a drop of relief in his stomach as he felt like his heart would burst.
“You’ve totally botched our presentation by the way. If we fail it it’s on you.” You shoved him away teasingly.
Johnny grinned, throwing his arm over your shoulder.
“Yeah? Well, I think we did better than you think. I think that things are gonna turn out just fine.”
(sorry, i was supposed to write a full angst, but i couldn’t help myself.)
© Copyright 2021. hyuckssunchip. All rights reserved.
#nct#nctcreations#cznnet#nct 127#nct dream#nct scenarios#nct imagines#nct drabbles#nct smut#nct angst#nct fluff#nct johnny#nct johnny suh#johnny suh#johnny#nct johnny smut#nct johnny angst#nct johnny fluff#johnny angst#johnny smut#johnny fluff#fool sun#request#jungcherie
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Hand Crushed By a Mallet by 100 Gecs and How it is actually about Gravity Falls
Welcome to the long waited 100 gecs song analisis ! Sorry for the wait, I’m just going to dive right into it. (The text is referring to the image right below it)
!! Most of the info I’m using is from the episodes ‘A Tale of Two Stans’ and ‘the Last Mabelcorn’. If I use any sources other than Gravity Falls they will be linked.
The first verse could be a reference to Stan’s line after Ford disappeared into the portal; ‘I just got him back! I can't lose him again!’ He was desperate for someone who cares about him, and he was immediately grateful for Ford for inviting him up to Oregon, at least he was before the fight.
I think that the next verse is talking about Ford’s experience struggling with Bill after Fiddleford left him. Bill could only talk to him when he’s asleep, so he stopped sleeping altogether. According to Healthline, after 24 hours without sleep, paranoia kicks in, which is shown as Ford checking Stans pupils with a flashlight to make sure he’s not possessed by Bill and turning away the skeleton so it can’t listen to them talk. The screenshot of the ‘A Tale of Two Stans’ transcript is full of sleep deprivation symptoms if you look for them.
Here’s a fun article on sleep deprivation, and if you find it as interesting as I do, I reccamend looking into the Russian Sleep Expirament. https://www.healthline.com/health/healthy-sleep/how-long-can-you-go-without-sleep
The chorus is below.
‘Take my hand, crush it up
Spill the blood on the floor
I ain't scared, think there's more
What the fuck, make it stop
Took too long, here right now’
I think those lines are talking about Ford realizing that Bill wasn’t actually his friend, and they were just using him for the portal. I do think its partly Ford’s fault for not thinking to ask where the portal goes until after he finished building it though. Definitely not a big brain move.
I don't want you to think
I got bad intentions
Never wanted you inside
You made it your mission, yeah
Didn't wanna hurt no one
But you just went and made it fun, fun, fun, fun
Ford didn’t have bad intentions. Everything he was doing was for science and it was going wonderfully. He was living his lifelong dream, doing groundbreaking studies with his boyfriends labpartner and muse. The best years of his life were the years before everything went terribly wrong. ‘Your mission’ is talking about building the portal. I’m guessing Bill didn’t expect it to work. He said he chooses one ‘one brilliant mind a century to inspire’, and if he’s older than time like Ford said, then he could have been monitoring human evolution from the beginning. According to https://www.oldest.org/culture/civilizations/#:~:text=Although%20the%20people%20who%20settled,group%20around%2050%2C000%20years%20ago. (I didn’t read the whole thing, just what came up on google, feel free to correct me), the oldest known civilization is Mesopotamia 75,000 years ago. One person every 100 years for 75,000 years is 750 people. 750 people whose lives were probably ruined by Bill. At this point its probably a game for Bill, and I think its safe to assume that Bill was also trying to open portals with other people in other dimensions, but that’s another discussion.
The next one is pretty obvious, ‘I hear you're lookin' for a way to fight the Corpus bride’ the Corpus Bride being Bill, the Pines are trying to fight him. ‘She's workin' in my mind’ Bill is in Ford’s mind, but this could be referring to Stan or Dipper too (who were both violated by Bill).
‘And you're lookin' for a way to crush
It's not enough
You fucked up your last try (last try)’
^^ Dipper and Wendy hiding in the mall before fighting Bill or finding Mabel, thinking they didn’t have a chance.
‘You were talkin' business
Aiming with your weapon
I was on your hit list
I felt the compression‘
THis could literally be referring to the scene in Weirdmageddon 1 where Ford shoots Bill, but it could also be a metaphor for how Ford felt it he was overworking himself to build the portal.
Diffinity from Bill’s perspective, could be at any point after Ford told them that the portal was a bad idea.
I think this a metaphor meaning that Bill isn’t directly copying Ford, but he is following him around in his dreams, as shown in ‘the Last Mabelcorn’ in his dream before the intro. Bill was taunting Ford and reminding him that the rift will never be safe.
Whew, that’s the whole song. Reblogs are appreciated as this took over two hours :)
Lyrics: https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/100gecs/handcrushedbyamallet.html
Song: Hand Crushed by a Mallet by 100 Gecs (https://open.spotify.com/track/7CUkeiG7QtB7tPU9f8SANS?si=a54408aee3794c7f)
Very real picture of me making this ^^
Thank you so much for reading !! (4/5/21)
#oh god this took so long#finally#i have all three#100 gecs#does 100 gecs have a fandom ??#100 gecs fandom ig#hand crushed by a mallet#1000 gecs#the tre#gravity falls#Stanley Pines#gruncle stan#stan gravity falls#stanford pines#stan pines#Fiddleford#ford pines#gruncle ford#dipper pines#gravity falls dipper#dipper and mabel#mabel gravity falls#mabel pines#Fiddleford McGucket#fiddleford hadron mcgucket#fiddauthor#bill cipher#bill ci the triangle guy
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Mabel’s All-In-One Guide to Being a Shooting Star: How to Avoid Being Caught and Other Tips You Should Know
Chapter Four: Not Gravity Falls
Whoops I forgot to post it my b you guys
Shoutout to @edward-or-ford and @pacific-ship for being bangs
When I wake up, the dream isn't done, I wanna see your face and know I've made it home. If nothing is true, what more can I do?- All Time Low, Painting Flowers
There was something… off about this Gravity Falls. Which was, of course, to be expected; alternate reality and all that. It wasn’t as different from her Gravity Falls as Not Dipper was from her Dipper, it just… It just felt strange. Like it was just a little bit wrong. It was darker. Everything was darker. She didn’t quite understand why.
She was still somewhat out of it, and walking was a chore. She really missed her bike. Why didn’t she have her bike again? Right, because she’d been abducted by gnomes, and then abducted-slash-rescued by an alternate version of her bro.
He was walking beside her, this alternate Dipper, and there was something different in the way he held himself. Her Dipper was… awkward, for lack of a better word. Adorably so, of course; it was one of the many things that had made her fall in love with him to begin with.
But this version… this version of Dipper walked with an easy sort of confidence Mabel wasn’t used to seeing, not on anybody, or at least not to that degree. He wasn’t awkward. Not even a little. He was sure of himself, perhaps even arrogant. He stood at his full height, not slouching or hunching his shoulders.
He didn’t just walk, either. He strutted, and he didn’t seem to notice when the townspeople (who had all stopped dead in their tracks and were looking at her, slack-jawed and wide-eyed) gave them both an unnecessarily wide berth. He didn’t glance at them, not even briefly to take mental note of their locations in relation to his own. He simply continued on as if they weren’t there, as if they didn’t exist.
They were looking at her with such unmistakable horror that Mabel had to say something.
“Hey,” she murmured at Not Dipper. “What’s the deal with these guys?”
“Hm?” He didn’t appear to have been paying attention to them, so when she voiced her question, he glanced around haphazardly. “Oh, I suppose they might think you’re… the other Mabel.”
“Huh. Weird.” Before she could comment further, her words were cut off.
“Mabel?” came a shocked voice that was almost familiar, but not quite. And when Mabel slowed her pace along the sidewalk and turned her gaze to her right, she found herself looking at a very… well, it was just odd, wasn’t it, almost as odd as Not Dipper’s mannerisms and general Not Dipper-ness. The contrast of these weird versions to the people she knew was lowkey freakin’ her out.
It was… “Pacifica?” It did very much appear to be Pacifica. The girl looked like Pacifica. She had the same face, eyes, and general appearance, but it looked like Pacifica if Pacifica had aged several years and gotten a hippie costume from a Halloween store. Or a Summerween store. Y’know. Whatever.
“You’re, uh… how are you…?” Pacifica was asking, and Mabel still felt a bit wobbly, but she smiled at this strange version of Pacifica all the same.
“Hi!” Mabel greeted with a cheerful wave, sticking her hand out for the other girl to shake. “I’m Mabel, nice to meet ya!” There was murmuring of words from the crowd that Mabel couldn’t hear or understand, and Pacifica was looking at Mabel’s hand like it had a shark’s mouth and the corresponding number of teeth (which was, fun fact, three thousand), and would give her hand similar treatment to that of those teenagers in Jaws.
Realizing Pacifica wasn’t gonna take her hand, Mabel lowered it with a pout. Not Dipper wasn’t looking at her. He’d stopped walking when she had, but he was staring off into space, his expression blank.
“I… I don’t understand,” Pacifica said, eyeing Mabel warily. “How are you… how are you here?”
Suddenly, Mabel remembered: ‘nother universe, concussion, blah blah blah.
“Right!” She snapped her fingers. “Sorry, I totes magoats forgot!” Pacifica (and everyone else) raised their eyebrows at her. “Have a bit of a concussion here,” she explained, knocking on the side of her head. “Yowch, prolly shouldn’t’ve done that. Anyway, the long and short of it is,” she paused for dramatic effect, “I’m from an alternate dimension! Ta-da!” She did jazz hands. Dramatic effect really was important. Essential, even.
“Okay,” Pacifica said slowly, looking immensely confused. “So, how, exactly…” she glanced at Not Dipper, and her eyes widened. “Holy crap, what happened?!” she exclaimed, rushing towards him. “Are you okay? We need to get you to a hospital, ommigod!”
He rolled his eyes, allowing them to land on her. “It’s none of your concern.” His voice was bored, disinterested, like the absolute last thing in the world he wanted to be doing was to be talking to her, and the fact that he was having to was nothing more than an irritating waste of time.
“Worry not, little missy!” Mabel gave her a double thumbs up. “We’re gonna get it taken care of and the not-broseph over here will be a-okay!”
Nobody else said anything. Pacifica was still looking at her nervously. If they thought she was the alternate universe’s Mabel and they were acting like, well, that, then what in the hell had her other self done to them? Dang diggity, they were looking at Not Dipper the same way; what had he done to them?
She glanced at him. He wasn’t looking at Pacifica anymore. He was staring off into space again.
“Um, well, I-“
Pacifca’s nervous stuttering was cut off by Not Dipper sighing, taking Mabel’s hand in his, and pulling her forward again. “Time to go,” he said, not bothering to look over his shoulder.
Had he always been so... apathetic? Mabel wasn’t sure. Her head was still pounding somewhat, and she couldn’t remember suuuuuper clearly, but she was pretty sure he’d been paying attention to her before. In fact, he’d been focused entirely on her, she had thought. But just then, he wasn’t focusing on anything. He’d totally snubbed Pacifica, too!
“Where are we going, exactly?” Mabel asked, doing her best to wave over her shoulder at the bewildered and fearful-looking townspeople as Not Dipper dragged her along behind him, his hand gentle but firm around hers.
“Home,” Not Dipper said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Not her home, obviously, but his. Was it her shaken brain, or was his distinct lack of the word ‘my’ weird?
“Not… uh…” she took a moment to collect her thoughts. Stupid concussion. What was that word again? “Not a hospital?”
“Not a hospital,” he agreed.
“O...kay…?”
After several minutes of him walking in strides that were a bit much for Mabel, particularly since she was having difficulty walking at all, he looked over his shoulder at her with one of those stupid stupid stupid grins-
“You seem to be having a bit of trouble there, Mabel dear. You’re quite sure you don’t want me to carry you again?”
“Yes, I’m sure!” She nodded emphatically. But, wait a second. “Again? What do you mean again?”
“Oh,” he glanced over his shoulder at her for a second, as if he’d forgotten he’d mentioned it to begin with. “I carried you earlier. When you were unconscious, you know.”
“R- right,” she stuttered. He’d carried her? How terribly embarrassing. She was far too heavy to be carried, and she was massively uncomfortable with this random version of her twin she loved in a very un-sister-type way knowing that she was far too heavy to be carried. “Thank you for saving me, by the way.”
“Of course,” he said easily. “Though please do try not to get into too much trouble now that you’re here.” He paused for a moment. “I’d hate to see something happen to you.”
“Honestly, the only place weird stuff ever happens to me is Gravity Falls,” she chuckled a bit. Her own need to escape had trapped her in a way, hadn’t it? “I’m probably no safer here than I was in my dimension.”
They’d migrated from sidewalks to dirt walkways along the side of a long, winding road that Mabel couldn’t see the end of.
“You’re safe with me,” he told her firmly. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
He was pulling her along the dirt path still, the earth and gravel crunching beneath her shoes. It was fairly dark by this point, so the chill of the evening air bit into the bare skin her shorts and loose crop top revealed.
“Sorry for complaining, but like. We’ve been walkin’ for a hot minute here, and I’m not seeing any houses in sight, so I’m just…'' she paused to take a break. Words were hard when one had a concussion. “Just kinda wondering if we’ll ever actually get to your far-far-away abode, y’know?”
“We’re almost there,” he assured her, and she could’ve sworn he squeezed her hand, but she really wasn’t sure. She might’ve imagined it. Actually, she probably imagined it. Almost certainly.
Which, side note, but why was he still holding her hand? They weren’t exactly walking side by side, no, but she was close enough behind him to where he didn’t really need to lead her anywhere.
Before she could formulate the words to question it, however, a wall came into view. A very high wall. Perhaps ten feet? Mabel didn’t know; she’d never been great at math. Sue her. It was stone, it looked like, but it was difficult to tell for certain because it was covered in ivy from top to bottom.
“You see?” He smiled at her slightly. “We’re there.”
The road they were walking beside appeared to end at a very large, ornate wrought iron gate that the wall-slash-fence appeared to house, and beyond that lay a driveway, leading to…
A… castle? It certainly looked like a castle. It was very very tall, and she couldn’t see much, but it definitely looked like a castle.
She sped up her pace a bit so she could match his long strides and poke him lightly on the arm. He looked down at her with mild amusement, it looked like. “Hey, uh…” he raised his eyebrows at her. “Is that where you live?”
“Yes, that’s why we’re here,” he said as if it were obvious. As if anyone living in a goddamn castle in the year of our lord 2019 was an obvious conclusion for somebody to jump to.
She noticed that some of his hair had fallen from its slicked back style and was falling over his birthmark. She wondered what it would look like down. She wondered what it would feel like. She wondered- no no no, bad Mabel, very bad, he’s not your Dipper!
“So…” she trailed off for a second. “Just to be clear, so we’re like, one-hundred-and-ten percent on the same page here, you live in a castle. Have… have I got that right, oooorrrrrr…?”
“If you consider this a castle, then yes, I suppose.” Not Dipper was looking down at her again, and he looked like he found her surprise quite funny. Which she didn’t exactly appreciate, but y’know. Beggars can’t choose their rescuers and all that.
They’d finally reached the gate, and it appeared to have a very large G in very fancy cursive on it.
He pressed his thumb to an electronic pad. The gate creaked open, and he strolled through it, pulling her along after him. It closed again as soon as they went through, and she found herself looking around every way she could without making herself all dizzy again.
They navigated around what appeared to be a hedge maze (that she would later discover was also in the shape of a giant cursive G), and it was several more minutes before they reached the overly tall wooden doors.
It wasn’t until he pushed the door open, taking his hand from hers in the process, that she realized he’d never let go of her hand. He’d been holding it the entire time, and she’d never even noticed.
#gravity falls#gravity falls fanfiction#gf fanfiction#pinecest#Pinecest fanfiction#mabel pines#dipper gleeful#reverse dipper#reverse falls#fanfiction#my writing#Mabel’s all-in-one guide to being a shooting star
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tiny giants made of tinier giants
Fandom: Gravity Falls
Relationships: Dipper Pines & Ford Pines
Characters: Dipper Pines, Ford Pines, Stan Pines (mentioned), Mabel Pines (mentioned)
Words: 3,596
Summary: “It’s two AM, and Ford has a visitor.”
[AO3]
why would I work on any of my own WIPs or try and get my life together when I could write oneshots
(this work was inspired by this super sweet comic by @rosesanddoodl3s! I hope you don’t mind, I just really loved it and had to write some of my feels out)
Ford’s been back in his own world for approximately thirty-two hours, and yet it’s almost like he never left - sitting at his desk in his old room, scribbling in the back of his second journal and muttering hissed curses between his teeth. The Oregon sky sits inky and indigo outside the panes of his window, studded with stars, and despite their apathetic, twinkling benevolence Ford can’t shake the feeling that they’re watching him.
It’s not something he can just let go of after thirty years on the run between dimensions.
On top of snatching away his chance to finally take out that demon once and for all, mercilessly and swiftly as he was powerless to stop it - his idiot brother’s activation of the portal literally created an interdimensional rift. He spent most of the day figuring out a way to contain it... and subsequently wrestling the slippery splashes of interdimensional matter around the portal room into the glass orb he was able to create. At least he’s in good enough shape to do so, despite his age - not that Stan would have a clue, if the beer gut he’s developed over the years is anything to go by.
He crosses out one equation and scribbles another, tugging at his hair in frustration. All that stands between Bill and his goals now is a veil of worryingly breakable glass.
There has to be something else he can use to protect everyone until he can find something stronger. Project Mentem, maybe? Would the machine still even work? It would probably need some level of repair after thirty years of disuse - not that he’d even used it successfully the first time round.
A tentative knock on the door jolts him from the letters and numbers that are starting to spin on the pages in front of his eyes, and he really hopes it’s not Stan - but then again, Stan’s not really the type to knock either. Brow creasing, Ford turns to face the door. “Yes?”
The door slowly creaks open, and he can’t stop himself from raising an eyebrow at the sight of the boy twin - Dipper, that’s it - hovering apprehensively in the doorway, clutching what looks like the comforter from his bed. “Um, Great-Uncle Ford?”
“Dipper?” Ford frowns again, closing the journal and setting his pen down as he checks his watch. It’s after two AM. “What are you doing up?”
Dipper hesitantly crosses the threshold, and as he steps into the dim light of the room Ford notices that his eyes are red - and a little puffy. “I, uh…” he averts his gaze, biting his lip, “...couldn’t sleep.”
“I… see.” Ford can feel his heart sink a little. Dipper and Mabel were certainly a lot to take in upon his arrival back in this dimension, considering the thought of descendants hadn’t even crossed his mind - but they seemed assured of themselves, despite the way Dipper had almost fainted and/or thrown up upon discovering that yes, Ford was the one who wrote the journal he was clutching in his hands. The bright-eyed expression of hope and determination the boy had turned to him with as he’d pulled the memory eraser gun from his rucksack was a stark contrast to the one on his face now, and Ford’s struck out of nowhere with a sudden urge to protect him - his sister, too. He’s only known them for a day and he already knows he never wants to see them cry. Ever.
Stan might want him to stay away from them, but he certainly can’t stop him from caring about them - and if Dipper’s down here of his own volition, Ford certainly won’t push him away. “Did you have a bad dream?”
“Something like that.” Dipper hugs the comforter to himself a little tighter, and Ford makes a decision, rising from his desk and crossing the room to take a seat on the couch. The kid’s wide-eyed gaze follows him, and Ford simply pats the cushion next to him as an invitation.
Dipper comes to sit on the couch next to him, tugging the worn, patched blanket around his shoulders. There’s still something hesitant in the movements of his limbs, like he’s holding himself back, and something twinges uncomfortably within Ford’s chest. He doesn’t want either of the children to feel like that around him - but he just wants to protect them from the dangers Stan’s opened their world up to, regardless of how inadvertent it might have been, and for that he probably needs to keep his distance. Even now he feels like he’s breaking some arbitrary rule, with Dipper perched on the couch at his side - before a wave of indignation washes it away. It’s Ford’s house, damn it, not Stan’s - despite what he may have told them… and everyone else in this town.
“Any reason you came to me rather than Stan…?” Ford ventures. He’s absolutely not against it - if anything, he feels strangely honoured that one of the kids came to him seemingly looking for comfort - but considering how long they’ve known him against how long they’ve known Stan, he has to wonder why. Dipper simply stares at his socked feet instead.
Were ten year olds always this… small? Both the boy and his sister barely come up to Ford’s - and Stan’s - elbows. Are they just short for their age? What were we like compared to Dad?
He wonders if it’s a good thing that he’s struggling to remember.
“I….” Dipper starts, and then seemingly gives up on himself, thin shoulders slumping with a sigh. “Sorry. I just - I dunno. I don’t think Grunkle Stan’s… mad at me, as such, but I kind of… said some things to him yesterday.” He averts his eyes, curling a little further in on himself.
Of course. Ford’s still smarting at the idea that his brother claimed his name as his own (and almost certainly amassed an impressive criminal record under it). Stan obviously cares about these kids - that part’s so glaringly obvious that even Ford can’t deny it - but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s essentially betrayed them.
“Well,” Ford concedes, “it’s… a lot to take in. I think you’re handling it better than I might have at the age of ten.”
Dipper looks up at him, stricken. “I’m twelve.”
Ford makes a mental note to correct his journal entry on the boy later. “I see. My apologies.”
His great-nephew (and that feels so bizarre to think, knowing that less than forty-eight hours ago he wasn’t even aware of the kid’s existence) just deflates even further. “It’s... okay, I guess. I know I’m short.” He pulls his knees up to his chest. “I mean, it’s just really annoying right now. Grunkle Stan’s really tall - and so are you, actually - and so’s my dad. I guess I can’t be short forever, but… I dunno.”
Right, their father. Shermie’s boy - David.
“How is Shermie, anyway?” Ford ventures, and no sooner have the words left his mouth than he wishes he hadn’t asked - because at the mention of their elder brother’s name Stan’s face immediately falls, any light that might have remained leaving his eyes, and that tells Ford pretty much everything he needs to know.
“What’s your father like?”
The question leaves Ford’s lips before he even really has the time to think about how random it is. He hasn’t even seen David since… what, Thanksgiving in third year of college? His nephew was barely four or five years old at that point, a rambunctious child with big brown eyes and a mop of chestnut-coloured curls who gleefully ran around their parents’ apartment while Shermie chased after him, throwing out frantic, stuttered apologies in their dad’s direction. It’s crossed Ford’s mind every now and then while jumping between dimensions, but he’s always pushed it away just as quickly, not wanting to dwell on the pain of everything else he threw away the second he shook Bill’s hand.
Dipper’s seemingly just as taken aback by the question as Ford is, and when he lifts his head to look up at him, brown eyes wide beneath his fluffy chestnut fringe, for a second it’s almost like he’s looking at a carbon copy of David himself… although he thankfully hasn’t inherited the infamous Pines nose. “My dad?”
“Ah - yes.” Ford coughs, averts his own eyes. “I suppose - well, Mom babysat for Shermie sometimes.”
Dipper’s brow lifts a little in the light of recognition, before furrowing again in thought. “He’s…” he trails off, visibly searching for the right adjective. “Nice. Kinda goofy, I guess. Mom always says that’s where Mabel gets it from.”
“What does he do?” Ford presses.
“He’s a software programmer.” Dipper’s shoulders relax, if only by a fraction. “And Mom’s a lawyer.”
“A software programmer, huh?” A memory of Fiddleford holding up a laptop prototype with bright, shining eyes briefly floats to the surface, and a stinging pang of regret bounces painfully against the inside of Ford’s ribcage, and he tries to focus on the child sitting next to him - family that he didn’t even know he had. It’s more than he expected, and more than he could have asked for. “Does he work a lot?”
“Yeah,” Dipper answers, kicking his feet under the seat of the couch. “He has his own business, but he works from home a couple of days a week - and he tries cooking dinner sometimes, but he’s not great at it.” His shoulders twitch beneath his blanket, the shadow of a laugh bubbling up. “One time he made us spaghetti sauce with ramen noodles - it was so gross. When Mom got home we ended up ordering Chinese food instead.”
Ford has to chuckle at that. “You know Shermie was never a great cook, either.”
Dipper relaxes a little more, and his shoulder bumps against Ford’s elbow as he leans a tiny bit closer. “I don’t remember a whole lot about Grandpa Shermie,” he admits, hesitantly. “Mom always says he really loved us, though. And Dad always took us to the planetarium on our birthday, because he said that was his favourite thing to do with his dad when he was a kid.”
And even if Ford’s trying to stave off his own looming anxiety about the very real possibility of the world as they know it ending, there’s something in his nephew’s words that lifts his own battle-scarred heart by just a touch. Maybe it’s knowing now that for all he left behind him when he hightailed it out of Backupsmore with two PhDs and a fat research grant cheque, back home Shermie turned out to be a good man, bringing the happy, excitable child Ford once knew as his nephew along that path with him. Seeing that David apparently grew up to be a good man himself, if the little smile that tugs at the corner of Dipper’s mouth when he talks about his parents is anything to go by.
At least someone in this family of ours turned out to be remotely functional.
Ford’s next question emerges a little more easily, the distance between them slowly beginning to close in fractional increments. “Did they give you your nickname?”
The question had already arisen when Stan was catching him up on the family history - the name Mabel is a little old-fashioned, although sweet in its charm, but surely nobody would ever call their child Dipper legitimately? - and Stan had simply shrugged and grunted something along the lines of, ‘Look at the little goofus’s forehead. It’s like someone spilled hot sauce on his face.’
He would, if the kid would stop vibrating with anxiety/pen clicks long enough to sit still. Not that it was even necessary, with the carefully inked sketch - which, sure enough, was a dead ringer for the Big Dipper - he’d found flipping through the third journal under the entry titled, ‘Your new author!’.
He’s ten - no, twelve. Ford won’t hold it against him.
Back in the present, Dipper nods. ���Dad said Grandpa pointed it out to him when we were little and then he couldn’t unsee it, and then they both started calling me Dipper and it just… stuck.” He hugs his knees. “I feel like it fits. My real name’s kind of dumb, anyway.”
There’s probably not much that could be dumber than naming a pair of twins Stanford and Stanley, but Ford decides not to push it. “Well, it’s certainly unique.”
Dipper shrugs and averts his gaze, and a silence falls between them… but after a few moments, there’s a soft weight against Ford’s arm as he leans against him.
Slowly, hesitantly, he lifts his arm to rest it around the boy’s shoulders. He doesn’t know what the hell he’s expecting - but Dipper doesn’t jolt, or flinch away. Instead, he simply shifts to rest his head against Ford’s chest with a soft exhale.
That in itself can only be a testament to the kind of fathers Shermie and David turned out to be. When Mabel threw her little sweater-clad arms around his neck earlier that night and chirped, “goodnight, Grunkle Ford!”, the wave of longing and affection that surged through his chest was so powerful that it both ached and almost took him off his feet at the same time.
He’d forgotten what love - and the affection that goes hand in hand with it - felt like, and in one simple hug from a niece he didn’t even know he had, it had come rushing back with all the force of a tsunami. These kids - Mabel especially - are so strangely warm and open, with each other, and with Stan and that young man - what was his name, Zeus? no, Soos - and now with Ford himself, too. And Dipper could barely make eye contact or stop shaking, but in the middle of the night, worn down by exhaustion - and he hasn’t missed the shadows under the boy’s eyes, either - he’s far more subdued, seemingly removed from the stammering, gagging ball of pen-clicking anxiety that had first greeted him after he’d set foot back in this world.
Either way, they’re certainly a far cry from himself and Stan.
Belatedly, Ford realises that his eyes are stinging a little, and he awkwardly clears his throat. Dipper doesn’t say anything. Beneath his fringe, his eyes are distant, and Ford can only wonder what he’s thinking.
“Is…” he winces at how his own voice breaks the silence, but they’ve already crossed this line. He doesn’t even know what it means to be an uncle, but if something’s bothering the kid, he wants to help. “Is there... another reason you can’t sleep, Dipper?”
This town’s fascinating, but it’s also dangerous, and in those six years he lived here Ford had more than his fair share of close shaves. Dipper’s thin arms are covered by his blanket right now, but during the day, the thin lines and dots of scars and scrapes that traverse his skin haven’t escaped Ford’s attention.
Ford can only wonder what he’s seen, and he hopes to God it’s not the same thing that sparked his own suffocating paranoia.
He can feel Dipper’s shoulders stiffen beneath his forearm, and for a few long moments, another silence descends.
When Dipper does answer, his voice is quiet, partially muffled by his comforter. “S-sometimes it’s just…” he trails off, shifting slightly against Ford’s chest. “Difficult.”
It doesn’t exactly provide much of an explanation, and Ford sighs. It was probably a step too far to expect Dipper to open up right away - if anything, he’s grateful for the way he’s here with him now, even if it’s explicitly against Stan’s wishes.
Dipper’s voice breaks the quiet once again. “Anyway… I wanna know more about you. Like…” he trails off, searching. “What were you and Grunkle Stan like when you were twelve?”
A laugh bubbles up in Ford’s chest at the innocence of the question. It’s a lifetime ago now, like Stan had said. Before they thought anything could ever break them apart, when they were just two identical best friends - brothers, even - with a dream of sailing away from their shitty little town.
“Didn’t Stan already tell you? He was a troublemaker and I was… well, a nerd, I suppose.”
Dipper leans against his side, relaxing once again - and it’s a relief. If they have to do this on his terms, that’s fine. Hopefully the kid might open up to him when he’s ready, whenever that may be. “I mean… we heard Stan’s side of the story. I guess I wanted to hear yours.”
Ford casts his mind back. “Well, Stan wasn’t wrong - he was a troublemaker.” A chuckle. “But then again, I suppose I wasn’t entirely innocent either…”
The stories flow from him more easily than he would expect them to - for some reason, it doesn’t hurt as much to tell Dipper, who listens, giggles here and there, occasionally interjects with some quip or aside that shows Ford that for all that’s happened in the last forty or fifty years, there are parts of his brother that haven’t necessarily changed. With each story he recalls, hazy days gone by that leave his lips as a shared memory, Dipper slumps a little further into his lap - and in some complete paradox, the heavier the kid rests against him, the lighter his heart feels.
Somewhere in the back of his mind as he’s regaling Dipper with the tale of Fiddleford’s disastrous attempt at a college open mic night - guest starring that godforsaken banjo - he wonders if it might be worth revising the entry he wrote about the kid in the third journal.
It’s still painful to think about Fiddleford, though, and Ford hopes that one day he’ll get the chance to apologise.
Even so, it still comes back to Stan. It often does. And for some reason, it’s easier to separate them in his mind - Stanley, the goofy, scrappy little smartass with half his front teeth missing who always pulled Ford up by his armpits when bullies knocked him down and tried to pin most of his mishaps on Shanklin the possum, and Stan, the exhausted, hollow-eyed stranger in a hooded jacket who showed up on his doorstep on that fateful day in 1982… who’s evidently reinvented himself as the man they now know as Stanford Pines, with a fez perched atop his now-grey hair and lies and blatant falsehoods falling from his lips.
“It’s kind of crazy imagining Grunkle Stan as a kid,” Dipper murmurs. He looks like he’s having a progressively harder time trying to keep his eyes open. “Like… Mabel and I only ever knew him as this weird old scam artist guy.”
Ford can feel the smile tug at his lips. Dipper and Mabel are going to grow up one day, too, and he hopes he’ll be able to witness it. “Well, we were all children once.”
It’s like he’s taking a back seat to himself as he tells Dipper these stories from another life. If he thinks about Stan and what they’ve become, it hurts - even if it’s dulled into a detached ache over the years, the occasional wave comes, raw and fresh, and it’s sharp like a knife. If he thinks about Stanley, it still hurts - but the edges are softened by the miasma that nostalgia casts over everything, and that’s not quite as painful. At least back then, he knew some sort of happiness, and at least he can vaguely recall what it felt like.
He can’t stop the chuckle that escapes him at the memory of Stan trying to convince their mother that the person who set off the whole school’s sprinklers and took off into the distance shouting ‘that’s how Stan Pines does it, suckers!’ was someone trying to frame him, and the way she’d absolutely eviscerated him in response.
“...and that was the last time Stanley ever lied to our mom.”
There’s no response from Dipper this time - no giggle, or eye-roll, or dry quip - and he looks down to see that the kid’s drifted off in his lap, head pillowed against Ford’s thigh as he breathes, slow and soft.
Well. In fairness, that was pretty much what he came down here for. Objective achieved… more or less.
Tentatively, he runs his hand over Dipper’s hair. It’s a complete bird’s nest - he obviously doesn’t brush it that often - but it’s thick and fluffy, just like David’s had been as a child. The heavy curtain of Mabel’s long tresses that had hit him in the face when she’d hugged him had been more or less the same.
Twins run in the family, he’d written in the journal. It’s a comforting thought - if anything, knowing that they hopefully won’t turn out like him and Stan.
He hadn’t wanted to throw it away - neither of them had, but Stan had no idea what he was dealing with, and if he had any inkling of just how dangerous the forces he was messing with were, most likely didn’t care. Irresponsible and knuckleheaded to a fault, from childhood to now - and honestly, probably to eternity.
As a scientist, Ford is used to determining things by probability and likelihood. Each situation has a predetermined number of potential outcomes… but sometimes, something greater - fate, the universe - has a hand in things. And maybe this time, she’s granted Ford a second chance of sorts. There’s a second generation of Pines twins, and they might have the potential to be better than he and Stan ever were.
“Alright, my boy,” he mutters to the one currently sleeping in his lap. “Let’s get you back into your own bed before Stan notices.”
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Some fun facts, info and More about the S3 and the comic in general.
I made this long ago with the S2 hiatus, so i decided to do the same again with new funfacts, and some new info about S3 (without going into spoilers of course, i hope you guys like it)
As you can notice, the new profile cards has a section called Logo, those logos are a new thing i added to the comic, What’s the purpose? They are made for pannels were the character’s talk but they are not in scene, this is an example from the new season:
When i announced King in Black i didn’t have almost any plans for the next issues, but i liked the Agony plot so i decided to make the story about that.
The Scene were Alec uses Jake as a Bat is a reference to the Blackbird Epilogue were it’s said Jake turns into a Bat of Intention releasing Andrew’s soul.
I wanted to elaborate more the scene were Jake is awakened from the illusion, but it was too many pages and i had to use the Bro thing, i am sorry if it was Lame, for me, at least it is.
When Alec met Hazel, i had plans to explain Alec dad’s were already dead, but i decided to not add that scene.
Alex (Hazel’s daughter) is 10, and She’s a Demi-Girl,
The reason why i started to read Disney Chills was because i wanted to find new traumatized kids from a different media than the ones i already use.
In the moment i read Planet of Symbiotes: Toxin i knew Bren has to be in the team.
Millie was intended to appear revived for a Symbiote after KIB, but i discarded that because we don’t really know her fate and there’s chances she could came back in FF epilogues.
Hazel works as a Lawyer
I want to make season 3 more separate from FNAF, because this comic was turning into a FNAF comic more than a crossover.
The Bonnles came from a Joke i made long ago on Twitter
I suffered a lot in season 2 because i really wanted to use Dylan, but the idea of a Time skip was soo good to not use it, Return of the Kids was totally my fav moment.
Oswald’s Scar plot from Familiar Rabits is gonna come back on the Summer Special.
Traumatized Kids Island is gonna be 10 episodes long i dunno if it’s gonna be Weekly or every 2 days, i have to think that.
Sora Ogami was a character i loved to add and i hope to use it more in future episodes.
I already told that, i changed the Henry’s hairstyles to make them inspired in the actor Jared Gilmoire, the one who interprets Henry in Once upon a Time.
The real name of this comic is: Niños Traumados.
Not gonna lie, i want to add Sleeper in this comic, but i don’t know what happened with him in comics, i am worried :(
The reason i am redesinging some characters is to gave them a personal touch (and because their shows are over)
Dipper and Mabel were requested a lots of times, i hope to use them more on season 3 now i rewatched the show since years.
I dunno if someone get it, but this is a reference to Kingdom Hearts:
I have plans to do a reference to the original trilogy of FNAF Books.
I started this blog because an user called Puffy started to reblog the first 3 episodes saying she was enjoying them, i am very grateful for all her suppor and i love her reblogs, thank you so much.
This also goes for Hide, i dunno if you’re reading this, but thanks for all your support, i love to have you here.
Bren Waters and Dylan Brock are gonna be gooooood friends.
I think it’s pretty obvious, this is an AU, so i take some creative liberties for some designs and relationships, i still use the actual stories from the characters, but some things like Normie and Dylan friendship (who in comics stopped being friends in a comic that we don’t even know if it’s canon) are changed.
In King In Black 3 in the Adults plan i had plans to introduce the crystal gems, but i thought Connie would be a better idea so i could introduce her.
Yeah, Connie is gonna come back, also she accepted Steven proposal after Steven got corrupted again,
There’s gonna be more adults on the Season 3
Not gonna told who, but one of the Founders members of the Meeting has appeared on one episode, not gonna tell wich.
Oswald loves more Springmatt than the Bonnles.
At first i didn’t wanted to confirm Chuck and Sam relationship, but then i was like: Why not?
Season 3 is ubicated AFTER The cliffs epilogue, but BEFORE Gumdrop Angel epilogue.
I confirmed 4 new kids, but i don’t deny maybe new kids would join in the future, someone wants to talk about dinosaurs?
What Oswald says about the name is already taken in KIB 1 is a reference about the fact there’s already a Symbiote called Agony.
At first i had plans to make art-trades with people to have variants of King in Black with another artist but i wasn’t brave enough.
I want to apologize about my shitty english lmao, sometimes i mess up the translation.
If you’re still reading this reblog with a #Yes
ok thanks, i aprecciate that.
sorry for this being so long lmao
For the people who read Disney Chills (and the people i hope i introduced to them like that ask someone sent me) i am aware about the Second Star to the Fright ending, but i wanted to use Barrie anyway, i love that boy.
Not gonna lie, i would love if someone makes a fanart or a dub of this series, if someone wanted to but was afraid to ask, you can, don’t be shy.
For the people who doesn’t knows, i am making an Into the Pit Graphic novel and a Dylan and Normie Graphic Novel, this comic is helping me to practice with Panel composition.
This is the first Splashpage i ever made, and i am very proud of it, i hope to make more on the future:
Goblin symbiote design was inspired in the Goblin Childe and the colors of the green goblin.
Some kids like Oswald are not going to have a Profile Card yet, that’s because Season 3 spoilers.
Im doing an Animatic about Dylan in the other Earth talking to Codex, at first it was a personal project, but i decided to add it to the traumatized Kids Canon.
When Robin is with the Cape on is because i am lazy to draw the body, sorry, i am human too lol.
I am sad no one got it, but that answer about the meeting room and a cat of the founder members was a Doraemon reference, yes, i confirm it, Nobita Nobi is in the 80s meeting.
At first i had plans to introduce Billy and Tommy into S3 but then for obvious reasons i didn’t (But i still can, maybe someday)
Steven’s weeding is gonna be a S3 arc, and it’s gonna be the last time we are gonna see Steven, it’s hard for me, but some kids have to leave in order to other to enter.
Welp i think i gave so many facts, this is a long list, i dunno if people is gonna fully read them, but if you did, thanks a lot for your interest.
Soon i will share more things in this acc, have a good summer.
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MEDIA THAT I RECOMMEND YOU CONSUME INSTEAD OF SUPERNATURAL FOR BOTH HEART AND HEALTH BROKEN DOWN BY TYPE OF MEDIA AND WHY YOU MIGHT LIKE IT IF AT ANY POINT YOU, LIKE MY POOR POOR SEVENTEEN YEAR OLD SELF, WERE INVESTED IN THIS ABSOLUTE GARBAGE FIRE OF A SHOW
with apologies to anyone on mobile who’s readmore function APPARENTLY doesn’t work
(I haven’t watched supernatural for at least five years and, given any sort of luck, I will never do so again, do not @ me)
hello babes. I am talking to you know bc I keep seeing supernatural, unironically, on my dash, and I think we can all do better. I see what’s happening and I think: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hU3i_o5Xd4g
Supernatural is fudge stripes. You are Megan. We can fix this.
So a list of alternate things that I think are overall better written/characterized/just generally more enjoyable that might scratch some of those itches:
TV SHOWS
Good Omens
okay look if u were on tumblr last year u probably already watched this show but like. If u haven’t, it’s only six episodes babe and there’s a large enough fandom that u can go down a fanart hole for days on end
Basic summary: the antichrist has reached that lovely young age where he’s supposed to bring about the apocalypse. An angel and a demon who have decided that actually they like the world as is, thank you very much, try to stop the end times. They’re not very good at it though, which makes for a comedy of errors.
Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: theologic (mostly christian) exploration/parody/imagery without inherently being a religious show. Fighting off the apocalypse narrative, which I think pretty much always goes hard as hell, but that’s just me. There’s a gay angel who’s socially awkward. There’s a fun very British demon. Touches on the hierarchies of heaven and hell, with framing Heaven as a bureaucracy and blurs the differences between angels and demons. Pining. Tenderness. A deep nostalgia for 80s music, though in this case it’s specifically queen, and who doesn’t love queen. Main character has a weirdly strong bond with his black vintage car. Satan is (sort of) fought.
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Gravity Falls
sometimes...things that are kids shows...with a set story and a predetermined ending...are better
(also this isn’t relevant to any of what I’m talking about but I really appreciate that Gravity Falls specifically went against the thing that most begged me about ATLA aka that a 15 year old girl would be like yeah I’m into a 12 year old boy because the 12 year old boy has a crush on me and I apparently don’t get to really have a say in this. How does that make sense.)
Basic Summary: Twelve year old twins Dipper and Mabel go to stay with their Grunkle Stan for the summer in a small Oregon town called Gravity Falls. Turns out this town is filled with all sorts of strange phenomena that they often have to confront, work around, learn about, or befriend!
Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: The core focus of the show is a close sibling duo, but like It’s obvious that the siblings actually like and love each other and while they have their spats it’s still incredibly clear that they deeply care about each other even with their differences LIKE SORRY SUPERNATURAL YOU CAN’T JUST TELL ME THAT SIBLINGS CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER AND THEN THEY SPEND ALL THEIR TIME FIGHTING AND LYING TO EACH OTHER AND GENERALLY ACTING LIKE THEY CAN’T STAND EACH OTHER’S COMPANY BUT THEN OOOHHH YOU CRY ON TOP OF THE HOOD OF A CAR EVERY THREE EPISODE AND SUDDENLY THEY’RE SOULMATES OR WHATEVER
Anyway. Yeah. GF has a solid sibling dynamic. Monster of the week that builds up to greater over-arching plot. A little bit of body horror, you know, for humor. Fair amount of meta humor playing with the tropes of the genre. A Good Ol Big Bad that tries to pit the siblings against each other. Have to fight the apocalypse (you’ll see this point on like a good half of these recs, I really like ‘what are we gonna do about Armageddon’ media). Interesting creature design. Planned, satisfying ending (which supernatural absolutely does not have, but I still think if it had ended with the season 5 finale like it uhh pretty obviously was supposed to, that would sort of counted. Don’t revive shows that have clearly already told their stories kids.) Tie in media that gives you some fun extra stories when you miss the characters. (yes I read some of the supernatural novels when I was a c h i l d, yes I’m pretty sure there’s one or two of them still buried somewhere on my laptop, no I don’t wanna talk about it.) Older father figure (?) who owns a tbh kind of shitty shop. Both already in place and found family.
It’s a good show, and it’s two seasons. John Mulaney Voice: I dunno it’s 40 episodes
MINI REC ALERT! (mini recs are basically things that I’m not gonna go into detail about for whatever reason [probably either due to i’m not familiar enough with it OR I just don’t like. Have a bunch to say about it in regards to how it will scratch the itches presented to u by spn] but still seem like a Good Watch)
Mini Rec: Over The Garden Wall. Spooky Kids Media! Episodic! Miniseries so you can watch it in like 2 hours! Cool ass Animation! About two brothers encountering said spooky stuff! Big Bad tries to pit brothers against each other! Might haunt you for the rest of your life! Check it out!
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The Haunting of Bly Manor
I think about this show every goddamn day of my life. (Also not relevant but Greg Sestero makes a brief cameo in it and I was like hi greg my friend greg!)
Basic Summary: An girl named Dani, while staying in London, decides to take on an Au Pair job for two young children, an older brother named Miles (age 10) and the younger sister Flora (age 8) at the spoooooky and mysteeerious Bly Manor, and she gets far more than she bargained for.
Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: Okay so supernatural doesn’t actually do this but I know I KNOW why we let ourselves be queerbaited in 2012. Four words for you: CENTRAL! GAY! TRAGIC! ROMANCE! You want some pining? Some tenderness? Some LOVE? Some dealing with internalized homophobia but no, like, actual violent onscreen homophobia? HAVE I GOT THE SHOW FOR YOU. If ur favorite episodes where the ones that make you sob (for me it was kevin’s death on god), I recommend this show. If you wished that supernatural literally ever had consequences or perma deaths or didn’t retcon major plot events like every five goddamn episodes so that there could be some exploration of like grief and trauma through the lens of/ higher stakes of horror, I recommend this show. If you really do stay up at night picturing a supernatural that wasn’t made by dumbass cishettie white men hack writers but was actually allowed to have Dean and Cas be in love over the course of the show so they could have like actual development and not the most homophobic gay reveal of all time, I recommend this show. Hell, if you just want a banger ghost story in general, I recommend this show.
As for what they actually have in common: horror setting/aesthetic without actually being all that scary most of the time. A strong sibling duo, though they’re not nearly as much of the focus of Bly Manor. Found family. Strong themes of grief. Questions of what turns someone into a monster (and done much better) An actual, much better noble sacrifice done out of love. Escalation of stakes until there’s a big final confrontation. Semi-big bad trying to tear this family apart. Found and pre-installed family. Sad orphans.
Watch this show. Vibe with me. Cry with me. Yell at me about Owen Sharma
MINI REC ALERT!
Haunting of Hill House- spiritual predecessor to Haunting of Bly Manor, though they’re not actually the same universe/story. However, it’s made by the same dude and has a shared aesthetic/sensibilities/some of the cast. This is only a mini rec bc I haven’t actually seen it, but I’ve heard good things and that it, while much more heavily leaning into family dynamics, has similar themes of exploring Grief and Trauma through ghooossstttsss.
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Community
Okay I know that this may seem like a Wild rec considering community is a school sitcom with basically Zero paranormal elements but just like. Hear me out. And no this isn’t just because I think it’s a realy good show and I want more people to watch it, though that is a factor. If I was just recommending comedies that I think are good and more people should watch regardless of them serving as a replacement for supernatural I would demand you all go watch Galavant and Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. I’m gonna demand it anyway. Everyone go watch Galavant and Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. Now back to your original program:
Basic Summary: A group of students at Greendale Community College form a Spanish study group, and things quickly go Off The Fucking Rails in the best way possible.
Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: All right I’m gonna be real honest this rec is for all of my (correct) bitches who’s favorite episodes of Supernatural were French Mistake, Changing Channels, and/or Mystery Spot. You think if Supernatural would’ve been fucking fantastic if it had been a committed comedy instead of a CW melodrama that occasionally landed some admittedly really fucking funny episodes/concepts, Community (and the movies on this list) will gently take you into its loving arms and give you everything you desire. It’s about the Meta comedy. It’s about the discussion, exploration, and subversion of common tropes within the format. It’s about the grand use of group/ found family dynamics in order to max both the goofs and the heart. It’s about fantastic callbacks. It’s about having one of the few “asshole with a heart of gold” leads I can actually stand because. You know. Growth. It’s about the INCREDIBLE genre and pop culture parody. Which genre do they parody, you ask. All of them. They parody all the genres. The glee parody episode is a fucking masterpiece of television. If you don’t want to watch a show that features a Halloween party where everyone turns into zombies and the ABBA discography blasts in the background, you can stop reading right now, because I can guarantee you won’t be interested in a damn thing I have to say.
MINI REC ALERT: The X-Files. I’ve also never seen this but a: everything I’ve seen out of context has been fantastically weird and delightful b: it appears that there’s a general consensus that Scully and Mulder are one of the only valid straight couples so it’s probably pretty fun and c: let’s all be honest. Supernatural was already basically an x-files rip off, it had like half of their original writers swiped from the x-files crew, I’m pretty sure if you liked especially the first couple of seasons of supernatural, you’re gonna like the X-files.
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Subcategory: TV SHOWS ( A WHOLE TWO OF ‘EM, OR MORE LIKE ONE AND HALF IF YOU WANNA GET TECHNICAL) I’M SPECIFICALLY RECOMMENDING FOR THAT COCAINE HIT OF PURE UNADULTERATED UNCUT 2012 TUMBLR NOSTALGIA
BBC Merlin
Yes, I know the show ended in 2010. Yes, it still provides that 2012 Tumblr nostalgia. 2012 Tumblr is a feeling, not an actual time period.
I love this stupid show. I plan on rewatching it all over the month of January. I harbor a deep amount of fondness for it. It’s why every time I see literally any depiction of Merlin I get just so fucking excited, and why I’ve consumed as many ridiculous Arthurian adaptations as I have (side note: my two favorite other ridiculous Arthurian legend adaptation are Avalon High, a DEEPLY silly DCOM that is required viewing to level up friendship with me, and The Kid Who Would Be King, which is the only movie that I think truly understands the comedic potential of playing a King Arthur Adaptation mostly straight but everyone in it is 12. I’m not sure it intended to be as fucking funny as it was, but again, they’re all middle schoolers. I have never been more jealous of an actor than I was of the 22 year old that got to play a 16 year old dumbass Merlin who was sometimes also Patrick Stewart and did all of his magic with ridiculous hand gestures That should’ve been me that should’ve been me that should’ve been me. Also Sword in the Stone by TH White is pretty good, because Merlin knows germ theory in the fantasy 400’s and he just uses it to be petty mostly. Also listen to High Noon Over Camelot by The Mechanisms. Also Also I tend to prefer family friendly adaptations because they don’t have the uhhh. You know. Incest and sexual violence of the original legend. Love to Not have that shit!) Whether you watched it initially and are due for a rewatch, or you’re intrigued enough by the concept of the show to watch it for the first time, you should join me on this wild wild ride.
Basic Summary: You know who Guinevere, Arthur, and Merlin are, come on. BBC said let’s make em all YOUNG let’s make em SEXY let’s make em FAMILY FRIENDLY and let’s make magic REALLY SEEM LIKE A THINLY VEILED ALLEGORY FOR BEING GAY BUT TO THIS DAY IM NOT SURE IF THAT WAS INTENTIONAL OR NOT BUT IT SURE SEEMS LIKE IT WAS. @ THE BBC MERLIN CREATORS WHAT IS THE TRUTH BECAUSE THERE WAS SOME INTERVI-
Basic Summary but like a bit more helpful: A BABY version of Merlin (and by baby I mean like 20 year old.) is sent from his small town to the big city the Kingdom of Camelot to find his destiny. Staying with the town physician and friend of his mom’s, Gaius, he ends up as both his assistant and personal manservant to Prince Arthur. But in a kingdom where magic is punished with death and the prince seems hell bent on getting himself into situations that are going to kill him, the young sorcerer has his more than his share of work cut out for him.
Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: Primo supremo queerbaiting. Like, yeah, okay, it’s queerbaiting, you know it’s queerbaiting, but you watch some of the scenes and ur like okay. I know why I let this bait me. Obviously with a modern show, I would expect more, I would expect better, I would raise my standards, but I gotta admit. Some of these scenes are fuckin compelling as hell, and the subtext is like barely sub. Monster of the week shenanigans. Some awful CGI creatures but like a charming awful. Like the kind of awful that tells you their very limited budget was more focused on cool swords than realistic creatures. Episodic stories build into a more overarching plot, with things getting darker in season 4/5. Shitty father that end up eating shit and while the son of said father is rightfully conflicted and upset over the death it’s cathartic and victorious as all hell for the audience. Multiple hot evil women, and I love hot evil women. There’s also nice hot women, which is a bonus. These women don’t all immediately stupidly die, so that’s a nice change. Also like a LOT of sarcastic humor and shenanigans if u like Sass Merlin is there for u personally name a more iconic line than “Oh I’m sorry, how long have you been training to be a prat, my lord?” AND THAT’S IN THE FIRST FUCKIN EPISODE brilliant amazing fantastic show stopping. Also you know those like dumb hijink episodes where like Dean was possessed by the spirit of a dog or some shit? You bet your bottom fuckin dollar BBC Merlin has those kinds of storylines. Also I know some people go to spn bc it had that HUGE fanbase and like BBC Merlin’s fanbase is still SURPRISINGLY poppin even though it’s been a decade since there was new content so like. Have fun!
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Doctor Who but Specifically the RTD Era
Look I’m not here to say that the first four seasons of reboot doctor who are the only good doctor who or inherently better than all the rest (though the RTD era is my favorite personally) BUT when ur seekin that sweet sweet superwholock frenzy nostalgia, this is the ‘who’ that is being referred to. Also like. Stan 9. We should all collectively stan the ninth doctor. Chris Eccleston, the Objectively Best Famous Chris, deserved better.
Basic Summary: An immortal alien that goes by “The Doctor” travels across time and space with a variety of different companions, often to try and save the day or fix a (sometimes self created) mess. It’s distilled campy sci-fi with a family friendly tone that has made me cry on several occasions.
Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: Monster of the week that, you guessed it, builds into bigger overarching plot style narrative. Fighting off the apocalypse, but like every couple of weeks because worlds are in danger a LOT. A semi-tragic romance that made people go absolutely buck fuckin wild bc pining n shit. Wamen, but they aren’t fridged. (actually for real though none of the main women die and I just think that’s really fun and flirty even though I could go on a COMPLETELY SEPARATE rant about the injustice of one of the character’s ending YES season 4 is my favorite season and one of my favorite pieces of media ever and I am currently actively recommending it to you YES im still fucking pissed over how it ended YES we exist) Specifically, a Wonderful and Very Excellent woman named Donna who goes on a spa trip that doesn’t end up going very well. That seems like a highly specific example, and it is, but it did happen in both shows. (Also, to anyone that continued watching SPN after like idk season 9 what happened to Donna? I always liked her and I know she became a recurring character so like DM whatever probably injustice was the end of her story line pls and thank you) I’m also extra specifically recommending for Supernatural Fans and also The World At Large: Season Four of Reboot Who. I rewatched it last year and it still goes so fucking hard. Donna Noble is the best character in existence. In regards to the appeal for SPN, personally I think the best part of SPN was when people who are soulmates went on adventures and tried to save the day and it was a good mix of banter and sincerity AND GUESS WHAT’S BASICALLY THE ENTIRETY OF SEASON 4 OF DOCTOR WHO. It’s so good y’all I wish Everything was about soulmates going on adventures and trying to save the day.
OKAY TV SHOWS DONE TIME FOR M O V I E S which I don’t have nearly as many recs for but uhh here goes
What We Do In The Shadows/ Shaun of the Dead
I’m lumping these two together bc my reasons for recommending them are largely the same, and I would call them tonally similar enough that if you like one you’ll probably like the other
Basic Summary (Shaun of The Dead): Uh-oh! London’s had a break out of some of that good ol’ zombieism. Shaun and friends decide to hunker down in a local bar, but they have to get there first. Will they survive? Will they fuck up some zom zoms? Who’s to say?
Basic Summary (What We Do In The Shadows): Some vampire roommates dick around. I think there’s technically, like, a plot, but it’s really just about some vampires Doin Their Thing. Vibin.
Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: This is kind of similar to the Community recommendation, in that supernatural had the opportunity to be one of those things that was both a parody of a genre but also just a really good example of the genre. WWDITS and SotD are both those things for vampire and zombly movies, respectively. Have the aesthetic and some of the themes of a horror but is not actually all that scary. Horror Comedy is a god tier genre and I don’t know why it’s not more widespread. Fun monsters/cast of characters in general, so at least one person in it is probably going to make you go “oh gender” ya know? With SotD you have the fantasy power trip that comes with like any piece of media that involves hunting monsters. With WWDITS I go “yep that’s how bisexuals dress” and I Will Not Clarify which character I’m talking about.
MINI REC ALERT: All of Taika Watiti’s filmography. Thor:Ragnarok is one of like 3 marvel movies that I consider genuinely fucking fantastic completely independent of the MCU and my own tendency to be like “hurr bdurr I love. Superheros”. For the one that is most tonally like Supernatural But Significantly Better and Written By Someone Competent I think I would say try out Hunt For The Wilderpeople. It’s got a reluctant curmudgeonly father figure and I KNOW some of you motherfuckers were so invested in spn when you were like 16 bc you had daddy issues. This is a callout post for my friend [REDACTED], who I should text to watch Hunt for the Wilderpeople, actually.
MINI REC ALERT X2!!!: Bram Stoker’s Dracula. I’ve never seen it but it has both Winona Ryder AND Keanu Reaves so like. Goth bi rights.
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Happy Death Day (and Happy Death Day 2 U)
happy death day was one of those movies that I saw the trailer, went “eh”, heard other people say it was great, watched, and went holy fuck this slaps. Not nearly as much of a slasher film as the trailers implied if im remembering the trailer correctly
Basic Summary: Our main character Tree keeps waking up on the day she was murdered. The day resets every time that she dies. That’s right, it’s a time loop storey babey!!!!!!!!!!!
Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: If you were anything like me you were foolishly lulled into supernatural for way longer than you should’ve been on the promise that the characters would idk like grow and change and become better and learn lessons and some of that would be through the power of receiving love and kindness. You know. Like how good writers would do it especially if their main characters are kind of dicks that really should make some changes. Well, Happy Death Day fucking delivers on that promise in SPADES. It’s about growth! It’s about change! It’s about making the active decision to become a better person and putting effort into doing so! There’s heavy themes of like grief and trauma and acknowledging them and facing them head on in order to move on and the negative consequences of refusing to do so and just trying avoid it until it goes away. There’s a romance that makes my dumb little self do the pleading face emoji. Tree is also one of the only good asshole with a heart of gold characters. I also think media is improved by having at least one character that is a Good Good Boy (note: Good Good Boy character does not have to be a man.) and Happy Death Day has Carter. Oh on that note: Tree Voice: I’ve only had character for (the same repeating over and over) a day but if anything happens to him I’ll kill everyone here and then myself. Also the movie is funny so like hell yeah.
that’s all I got for relevant movies right now
BOOK RECS
jk i’m illiterate. Everyone should feel free to go ahead and add their own suggestions for this section The best I can do is uhhhh I think y’all would probably like Mira Grant’s novels, particularly the Newsflesh stories, bc sibling dynamics. Also the book The Haunting of Hill House is really good. Ballad of Black Tom slaps? There’s of course the Good Omens novel that the show was based on. I’m about to recommend some podcasts after this section which will include to Welcome to Nightvale because of course it will and the tie in novels for that slap, especially It Devours!, and I’m pretty sure they work as stories even if you know nothing about the podcast. Also also I think you should read “The Long Way to A Small, Angry Planet” by Becky Chambers It’s not thematically similar to supernatural at all but it’s one of my all time favorite sci fi novels and only like four people have read it which is a goddamn TRAVESTY.
Anyway yeah that’s it that’s all there is. Onto the medium that is like books but I can fold laundry or cook while consuming their narratives.
PODCAST RECS
Okay so this is getting uhhh wicked long so I’m gonna limit myself to only three full blown recs and a
mini rec
Alice Isn’t Dead
Fuck me running this show is so good. Literally hands down my all time favorite (and scariest!) horror podcast. Mamma mia, that’s a good fuckin story. The Book version is also good and has fewer Weird events but some further character development so I recommend them both.
Basic Summary: After her wife Alice disappears mysteriously, Keisha takes up a job as a long haul trucker, traveling all across America in order to find her, but ends up finding so much. Pursued by a deadly creature she calls The Thistle Man, the stakes of her journey are raised.
Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: okay so I have a lost of bullet points of things that appealed to me specifically about supernatural and how no other shows covers all of them which sucks bc it means I basically Yearn for a show that’s supernatural but good. Alice isn’t Dead, however, hits the most of these bullet points AND is so fucking good. It has monster hunting. It has stopping a cataclysmic event BUT also discussion of the cyclical nature of events such as these and how the fight never truly ends but you can make some fucking progress nonetheless. It has a central gay romance that’s actually a central gay romance. It’s the ONLY show on this list that really hits that the weird and dark underside of americana vibe but specifically the americana of not like suburbs and shit but that eerie haunted feeling you get when you’re hours into a late night drive on open roads with no civilization around and an expansive sky and it just Seems like something should be watching you. Have you ever been out for a walk at midnight and encountered a deer and you looked into each other’s eyes and it felt like it was telling you a message that you couldn’t possibly hope to parse? Have you ever felt an incredible sense of deja vu eating in a restaurant you couldn’t have possibly been in before, because you’ve been to a thousand diners a thousand times just like one, and there’s an incredibly sense of homogeneity even though you’re 2000 miles away from anyone and anything that could possibly know you? Have you ever traveled to an area that seems to be stuck in a bubble of time, the only thing that shows any evidence of having aged past 2006 being yourself, and you wonder how your cell phone even works around here? THAT’S the spooky americana I’m fuckin talking about! Messed up road trips! Too much goddamn space! America is scary because it’s big and Filled With Things but also Not Enough Things! Fuck yeah!!!!! That time bubble fuckin EXISTS in Wyoming the most recent song on the radio I heard was fuckin Hey Soul Sister!
Also has a thing where like are there even good guys and bad guys in a conflict or is it all just one umbrella nightmare that you’re trying to stand against in anyway possible (u kno..like how the overarching structures of both heaven and hell were kinda fucked in spn? No spoilers but similar shit be happenin in Alice Isn’t Dead). Exploration of what makes someone into a monster, like how do you go down that path? Also this is the only show on this whole damn list that southern gothic music really suits it so points for that.
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The Magnus Archives
You know I had to do it to ‘em.
Basic Summary: Jonathan Sims has just become the Head Archivist at the Magnus Institute, a “research” “facility” that looks into paranormal/esoteric/unexplained phenomena.
John Mulaney Voice, Again: Nobody knows what the archivist is going to do next, least of all the archivist. He’s never been in an archives before, he’s just as confused as you are.
Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: Oh fuck this document is over 5k long I said I wasn’t gonna do this hhhhh so lipton lightning round: Slowburn Gay Romance but Actually Canon, Monster Hunting but Hey What Even Is A Monster Anyway, Acts Somewhat like a Loosely Connected Horror Anthology until it DOESNT, Little Things Build to Bigger Narrative, Characters Be Goin Through It (On God These People Need Therapy), Trying to Prevent/Fix The Apocalypse (X2!!!), Smug Asshole Big Bad, Horror as a Metaphor For Various Shit, Basically if you thought that the Men of Letter concept slapped and you think it should’ve been the whole damn show including being Deeply British you would probably really fuckin like TMA. Also if ur like the ideal piece of media is a horror tragedy but also like it’s a wacky sitcom but also also fuck cops. U will like tma.
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Welcome to Nightvale
IF ANY 2012 TUMBLR FANDOM DESERVES TO MAKE A MASSIVE COMEBACK AND BE EVERYWHERE AGAIN AND ABSOLUTELY FLOOD MY DASH IT’S WELCOME TO NIGHTVALE WHY DID WE ABANDON THE SHOW THAT TREATED US THE MOST KINDLY DID YOU KNOW THAT EPISODES 108-110 ARE THE BEST FUCKING BUILT UP NARRATIVE REVEAL THAT I HAVE WITNESSED IN MY LIFE DID YOU KNOW THAT IT CONTINUED TO BE REALLY FUCKING GOOD AFTER MOST PEOPLE STOPPED LISTENING DID YOU KNOW CECIL AND CARLOS ARE MARRIED AND THEY HAVE A DOG AND A TODDLER NOW BECAUSE OF ALL THE GAY PODCAST PROTAGONISTS CECIL GERSHWIN PALMER LOVE OF MY LIFE ELDRITCHIAN CHEERLEADER AND CERTIFIED BIMBO KEEPS FUCKIN WINNIN BABY. DID YOU KNOW THAT CECIL THINKS PEANUT BUTTER IS A ROCK.
Basic Summary: Welcome to the sleepy desert town of Ņ̶̏ight V̶͚̰̮͗̔̊̊ale! Community radio how host Cé̵̟͚͕̗̞̙͂͑̽̄́c̵̤̼̞͈̪͓̍̽̋̚̕͜il Pǎ̵̧̨̢͚̻̈̂̄̇͐̇̊̀̆ͅl̶͚͎͕͉͖̬͓͑́̐̒̍̿̈́͢͜͝ͅm̸̧͙̟̖̠̳̬͋́͋́͌̚̚ͅȩ̙̖͎̖͂́̒͐͜͞r̢̢̛̰̻̮̺̩͙̼̈́͋̀͘ is here to k̠̠̰̦͙̯̥̎̄̆͌̎̀̿̔̌̚ê̷̢̬̥̞̩̯̘͒̽̈̓͐̂̔̍e̶̡̝̗̺̫̪̜͆̓̿̈͌͌̆͒͞ͅp̵̹̗̬̼̠̬͙̏͐͐̉̅͊͊́͟͞ͅͅ ỷ̛͙̞̦̦͖̑̉̌̎͞͡͡͝ͅo̧̧̥͎̻̥̲͇͋́́̔̈͌͞ǔ̸̬̯̫͇̦̮͕̤̲̯̽̔̀̔͆͋̈́͘̚ up to date all the local happenings, including w̸̢̢̢̧̡̡͍͖̻̳̹̼̼̰̬̭̱͔̲͙͍̰̠̥̺̝͖̺̖̼̮̼̞̳̞̜͉̤̯͇̖̳͖̠̙̺̲̤͇͈͚͓̮̭̱̭̩͚̟̥̬̟̻̝̼̖͚̘͐̆̅̂̃̈́͆͊̉̏͒́̈́̋͗͑̄̉́̐̌́̿̌͛̾̎̊̾̃̈́̉̔̍̐͛̕͘̚͜͜͠͠é̵̢̡̧̨̨̡̧̨̡̛̹̥̥̞̮̯͙͈̻̝͓͖͙̦̰͍̖̜̲̰̞͎͈̭̯̳͕̗͓͈̭̫̼̯̪̞̯̰̲̘̭͎̪̱̗̝̝̞̤̱͉͙̯͎̬͎̙̜̗͉̩̦͕̪̳͇͙̺̙̰̠͚͎̜̠͔̬͎̺̣͕̜̊̓̃̐̂́͂̎̐̾̔̽̀̉́̍̊̂̿̎͂͐̎̐̄̍̔̋̐̃͗̈́͂̀̒̊̎͘͘̕̚̕͜͝͝͝͠ͅͅa̸̡̧̡̡̨̡̨̛̛͙̣̘̳͎͖̥̝̟̱̩̥͙͉̝̲̙̮̩̩̹̱͔͎̥̹̻̜͚̭̬̳͚̤̙̖̯͎̱̫̞̪̻͖̱̞͔̭̻̺͚͚̯̬͓͓̳͇̳̦͓̞͈̮̤̭̣͉̲̞͚̘͗̆̃͌̅̍͊̓̈̇̌̒͊͑̊̏̊͌̈̓̿͗̒̏̒͊͒̏̃̎̒̀̅̾̍̀͘͘͜͝͠ͅt̵̢̡̨̧̧̛̛̛̯̤͓̘̻̤͓̪̰͔̪̝̫͎̻͔͈͎͔͙͕͈̰͓͍̀̏͒̆͋̈́̈́͂̔͋͆͂̅͗̍̆̍̆̔̑͊̏̈͒́̽͊́̿͂́̓͛̽͐͌̌̐̈̇̃̓̆̍̅̃̔̚̕͜͝͝͝ͅͅh̸̨̨̡̢̢̡̢̧̡̧̢̡̨̡̭̜̬̬̙͕̗̙̻̯̠̘͙̻̥͉͚̼̗͚͇͉̰͍̥͉̗͎̬̫͖͉͔̼̮̯̞̫̬̟̻͉̖̙̥̫͖̬͚̟̜̭͇͎̭̘̝̲̤͕͎̰̭̗̯̮̤̙̙̯͍̞̭͚͔͎̞̹̲̟͉̩̭̖̱̠͍̺͈̟̩̋̆̈́͆̍̆̄̏͜ͅͅȇ̸̢̢̨̨̧̛̜͍̺͎̬̪͙̻̝̣͓͈̺̩̳̟̲̠̣͈͎͎͈͉̙̪͖̳̺͇̹̊̍͊͑̿͊̌͛̿̓͊̾̀͂͛̉͆̾̽͆̈̏͛̊͛̍̈́̇͋̔͂̑͐̂̿͊̽͑͘̚͘͝͝͠͝ͅͅŕ̵̨̡̨̨̢̧̡̧̨̘̟͙̦̲̲̪̦̙̼̠̳͚̞̦̞͖͚͇̳͖̲̭͕̜̫̳̖̙͖͉͎̘̘̤̠͈̬͕̝̻͚̥͍͕̠̥͙̙̪̖̯͍̘̘̲̣̹̜̪̲̭̟̮̫̖̤̰͔̩̩͉̲͚̟̝̦̬̪̘̬̮̱͔̻̦̼̃̐̂͋̐̅̋͒̉͛́̅̈́̒̒͆̑̆͊̒͒̀̍̈́̍͌̍̏̔͋͌̒̍̌͛̓̈̂̐̕͘͘͜͜͝͝͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̡̨̛̠͇̹̯͕͍̻̟̼̼̗̩̱̗̙̱̥̜̬̫̜͎͉̺̣͓̟̯̱͖̣̞̠̝̥͍̲̳̙̠͔̹̘̲̲̻̖̈́̊͋͜͜ą̵̡̧̟͕̬̳̜͈͈̳̝̜̣̬͔͈͈͎͉͍̯̟̞̺͎̝͇̰̥͖̬̯͙̤̬̼̲̦̯̭͓̠̺̳̱̰̮̎͋͆̈́͌͆̎̉̓̇̐͋͋́̃̉̈̄̏̓̉̿̅̒̉̒̉͂͛̄̀̇̒͊͛́͊̎́͆̌̆́̌͂̈́̽̋͛͗̑̊̀́̍͊̌͆͊͐͆̅̒̊̉̾̄͛̑̕͘͘͘͘͝͝͝͝͠͠͝n̸̡̛̛̛̛̛̙͎̬̦̠̼͓͈̝̾̍͑͛̅̒̾́̌̍͛̇̋̇̓̏͛̔͛̈́͆̿̌͐̿͊̿́͒̍̃̀̈͐̐̆͐̉̒̂̉̀̅̇̾͋̍͒̋̈̌̿͒͐̍́͗̀̌̌̚̕̕̕͘̚͘͘̚͜͠͝͝͝d̴̡̢̢̛̛̛̺̠̳̬͎̞̲̣̲̱̳̪̹͉̝̠̱̗̙̫̠̹̼̙̝͉̲̟̮̙̙̮̻̹͈̦̙̞͚̜̙̖̞͓̙̭͉̃̽̌̅̔̾̈́̒̽͑́̒͋̓̈́͆͋̽̒̃̽̋̐͌͂̍͑́̽̋̍͗̋͗͂̅̽̈̈̾͐̄̃̕̕͜͠͠͝͠͝ͅͅ ̵̡̡̢̛̛̗͚͍̺͇̲̳̯͓̰͍̙̮̙̜̟̞̣̼͕̝͔͙̺̫͈͈̠̻̘̱͍̦̭͔͈̤̺̗̮͕̦̞̘͍̯̻̝͓̤̳̫͔̩͉̬̈́͋̈́̐͒́̔́́̿̓̆͐̎͆̇͒̄̈̿̓̑̾̏̔̿͊̌͆͒̒͊̓̅̓́̔̅̀̀̀̃̿̂̑͂͆̅̎̾̏̓̂̈́͛͌̇̾͌͐̈̂̆͐̅̓̍̓̃̆͗̃͛̏̒̌̀̅͊́̽̐̆̿́̌͘͘̚̕͘̕̕͜͜͜͠͝͠͝͠t̷̢̥͓̄͗̾̄̅̚͜r̵̨̡̨̧̧̢̛̛̛̛̛͍͙͚̥̱̞̜̦̜̼̺͉̠̬͎̰̻̜̼̫̤͓͖͖̤͇̞̥̖̈́͊̆̓͊̑̑̋̒̈́̔̆͆́̐͛͑͊͋̇̈́̓̑̍̏͐͛̽̋̎͑̃̈́͒̇̂̇̌͂̀̍̊̇̓̋̈́̌̏̕͘̚̕̚͝͝͠ǎ̴̡͓͓̯̘̥̱̱͖̦̺͓̘͉͖̞̟̦͈̜̥̰̘̞͈̦̠̼̯̙̭̼͚̟̖̲̠̝̜̐̅͆̏̈́̍́͂̃̾͑̓͋̽̄̾́̾̆̾͒͋̎͂̈́͘̕̕̚͜ͅͅf̷̢̡̡̧̢̨̡̧̢̢̧̡̧̫͖̖͇̲̫̮͕͉͓̩̪̳̹̩͎̖̟̤̤̲̟̪̫̻̻̖̟̦͉̼͎͖̭͍͖͎̖̳̳͙̜͉̝̘̺̖͚̙͉͕͙̯͖̞͚̮̲̻͉͙̺̭͓͎̤͙̦̦̺̯͕̜̰͍̳̙̦͉̪̥́͋̓̅̀͋͐̀̄̊̆̉̒̐͒̀̏̈̇̊̉̆̐̏̾̀̀̓͛͆̍̾͗͌̀̄̔͒̀̍̈́͆̔̒̑̏̍̏͆́̾̐̂͋̂̔̂́̓̓̌͌̉͛́̒̐̽̏́̑͊́̌̆̂̑͋̇̈́͌̑̿̅͗̚̕͘̕̚͜͠͝͝͠͠f̴̨̨̛̹͌̂̓͌͛̀͑̾̓̍͗̽͆̉̊͗̇́̍͌̊͐̔̈́̊̇͆̄̃̑̕̕͘͘͘͠͝͝͝͠i̴̧̡̢̢̧̢̨̨̧̧̧̛̛͎̗̳̦̘̙͓̦̙͔̜̼̘͇͇̺̭͉̠̩̟̤̥̘͙̤̩͔̪̱̻͈̪̼̼̞̠͎̟̹͕̻̭̤̪̲͕̟̺̻̻͖͕͚̣͇̖̰̝̩͈̤͕͇͕̝͙̙̪͔̗̫͇͎̙̲̲͖̗̘͉̲̣̤͎̔̐̆͒̄̈́̀̎̃̃̅͆̌̈́̽̈́̅̈́̑̄̇͒͐̀̐̀̒̍̀̓͌͗̓̽́͗̓̎͂͛̅̑̔̀͛̈́̽̾̃̊͊͆̄̍͑̍̆̌̾͗̄̊̽̉̅̆̀̎̀͑̿̎̋̄̆̃͐̾̏͛͒̍̋̅͘̕̚̕̕͜͜͝͝͝͝͠ͅͅc̷̛̛͚̝̻̣̞̓́̃́̀̃̓͗͌̂͛́̒̊͑̓͆̇̈́͑̏̆̀͌̑͂͂̄͌̉̔̋́̎͒̿͗͒͛̇͛̿̎̍̕̕̕͝͝͝͝͝ ̴̢̧̢̡̨̢̡̨̡̢̢̛̺̘̹̯̤̩̘̯͔̞̟̬̠̣̟̻̥̜̤͔̥͕̠̥̞͎̗̩̱̮͉͔͎̲̯̱̙̜̥̳̮͔̦̣͖͔̜͉̗̪̳̹̦̤͇̣̙͕̯̫̖̝̼̹͍̠͎͓̗͎̦͓̲̯̱̠̰͇̮̹͔̝͉͙̹̜̹͈̹̥͖̣̳̲͖̓́͌̈́̈́̀͌̄͂̌̾́̍̔̊̓̿͋͂͋̈́̋́́̒̓̀̒̃͂̀͑̐͛̆̆͒̈́̅̿͊͌̍͗̌̌͆̂͌́̉̏̒̓͊̾̒̓̋̽͐̏̾͘̕͜͝͠͝ͅͅr̸̨̢̛̪̞̬͓͔̥̤̣͔̭̥̙͉̦̗̠̳̩͙̂̈́͑͑̿̋̓̀͋͆̋̕͝͝ë̴̢̡̨̬͈͉̖̞͔͎͓͖̼̘̬͕̰͈̥͈̝̩͎͉͉̫̜͚͕̤͔̟̯͓͎̟͙̜̭̩̗̮͎̗̤͇̝̩͎̜̺̯͕͇̝͎̯͙̖͙̮̗̮̘́̑͑͛̂̅̄̌̽̓̒̾̿͆̏̏͐͛̾̂̃͑͆̅̄̿͋̅͂̈́̽͋͒̎͐̒̓͆̌̉͑͊́̀̈̾͛̋͑̋̎̈̀̽̀͊̏͘͝͝͝͝͠͝ͅp̴̧̧̡̢̢̢̛̛̛͚̟͓̖̭̪̻̪̲̬̥̙̥̰̼̹͎͕̪̞̮̺̰̬̘̫̤͉̦͙̮̖̙̹̻͔̖̮̲̞̣̻̜̠͇̬͚̱̦̼̲̮̀̂͌̍̈̒̍̋̌̏͐̓͛̉̂̈̀͑̈́͊͗͋͗́̂̎̎̃͆͒̅̑̇́̈͐̾̀̔̒̉͑͒̅̓̈́̋͋̀̍̄̿̌̀̉͆̇̔̈́͗̋̄̓̇͗̎̉̆͊̒͗̚̕͘͘̕̕̚͜͜͝͝͠͠͠͠͠ͅͅͅơ̶̢̡̧̨̡̛̛͔̦̼̰̠̯̰̟̲̣̜͙̲͙̪̱̱͕̺̪͈͉̺̻̙̥̲̩̲̩͔̠͚̩͓̞̠̯̟̫̣̗̦̰͉͚͙̺͎̼͖̥̙͈̯̲̝̞͎̻͕̮͔̰̖͔̭͙̩̼͔̫̹̘͓͔̜̘͍̍̅̄͋͑̋̍̊̉̄̈̽̈͐̀͌͐̆͊͂̐̋̃̎͆͛̐̀̂̿̈́͂́̈̌͐̇̀̒͋͑͐́͌̐̇̊͆̀͂͋̏́͋͆̏͗͂͑̂̓̽͘͘̚̕̕̕̕̚͘͜͜͠͝͝ͅͅͅr̴̨̨̨̧̨̛̘͕͈͔͙̠̬̯̩̗̰̗̬̦͈̗̝̣͓͓̟͕͙͈̠̘̻͓̭̝̘̦̦͓̭̘͙̻̙̼̩̰̝͈̱̝̱̬͉͙̣̖̮̲͈̙̱̩̣͕̦̰̮͔͈͓̙̮͍̳̟̠̞͎̱̣̰͕̩̝̲̝͐́́̍̈͐͋̐̑̌͋̓̈́̈͗̿̈̈́͗̑̚͜͜͜͜͜͝ͅͅţ̴̢̨̧͇͉͎̣̬̣̝̗̬̹͇̮̞̈́̐̌̇̈́̌͊̐̅̂̌̂͒͌́̈͌̂̊͗̍̿͑͋̎̓͂̀̎̎͒̾̏̒͌̃̄͋̌̾̍̈́̐̏͑̊̍͑͆̉̓́̆̌̾̓͊̊̈̑͘̚̕͘͘̕͝͝͝͝͝s̴̢̢̡̛̬̹͚̻͉̦̦̣̦̠̜͕̤̳͓͙̟̬͕̘̦̿͗̉̏̒͆̓̄͊͌͛͂͑̒̃͛͘͜͝͝!
Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: Honestly, probably bc Nightvale and Alice are by the Same Dudes, a lot of these points are the same as Alice Isn’t Dead, but it’s less scawy and more funney. Also hits the “horror, but make it kind of a sitcom” vibes. Doesn’t have the same road trip vibes, but DOES capture the exact weirdness of South Western USA, so I’m still giving it “fucked up americana” credit. If you’ve never been to New Mexico ur like this is an exaggeration clearly no desert town is subject to like ACTUAL cosmic horror and unexplainable sights but I’m telling you New Mexico is just Like That. (I highly recommend visiting the land of enchantment if you ever get the oppurtunity it is a deeply odd and wonderfully unsettling experience.) Look man it’s gay it’s a horror comedy cecil has a wonderfully soothing voice and it hates capitalism so fucking much like oh my god so much what more could you want.
MINI REC ALERT: Wolf 359! I have nothing deep to say about this I just like it and my gut tells me that y’all would enjoy it too I know there isnt much for physical descriptions in the show but I know in my heart that the main character is so so pretty and so so stupid. I KNOW yall like some himbos that experience character growth.
Okay since It’s my party and I’ll speak if I want to rapid fire list of podcasts I just like and want more people to listen to even though I’m behind on like all of them shhhhh: The Penumbra Podcast, BomBARDed, Dungeons and Daddies, Stellar Firma, Wonderful!
SONG RECS
okay these aren’t like replacement recs or anything they’re just really good and I almost certainly would have put them on some sort of supernatural playlist in 2013 but I don’t, like, have a good playlist for them now so I’m subjecting y’all to them also they all have the youtube link for ease of access
Woah There Kimmy- Felix Hagan & the Family
Devil’s Backbone- The Civil Wars
Blood On My Name- The Brothers Bright
Awake O Sleeper- The Brothers Bright
The Bottom of the River- Delta Rae
Old Number 7- The Devil Makes Three
The Bullet- The Devil Makes Three
In Hell I’ll Be In Good Company- The Dead South
Bartholomew- The Silent Comedy
Pomegranate Seeds- Julian Moon
Curses- The Crane Wives
Tongues & Teeth -The Crane Wives
OKAY THAT’S IT! THAT’S ALL FOLKS! FUCK!
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So. Here goes nothing... (1/?)
(Major spoilers for the comic, but since it won’t update anymore (besides PERHAPS some random comic strips/excerpts without context every now and then, but don’t count on it), I guess it doesn’t matter.)
If you read my answer to the ask posted earlier, you probably know what this post is about. I’ll make a list of every important point I wanted to tackle in the comic, in multiple sections. Be prepared for the long post that awaits you below the cut.
Summary of what was left of Chapter 2
Following their first appearance at the beginning of the chapter, Lolph and Dundgren try to question Blendin, who is staying at a hospital and is still under intense care. They discuss what exactly happened to Blendin in the first place: he was assigned what was supposed to be a routine mission to solve a minor time anomaly in the 21st century, but his time machine exploded when he tried to operate it and he was gravely injured. Dundgren mentions that any normal time device should hardly cause this much damage when malfunctioning, suggesting that Blendin’s level of incompetence is so incredibly high, it somehow managed to make something that shouldn’t be able to explode blow up in his face. On the other hand, Lolph starts to wonder if, exactly because it should be impossible, the accident may have had a reason other than just Blendin’s incompetence. Unfortunately, the accident had consequences so grave on Blendin’s physical health, it seemingly also took a toll on his sanity and questioning him only leaves them with esoteric sentences of dubious credibility.
Blendin: “This is very nice of you… to visit me. There isn’t much time left. I was starting to feel alone, before everything disappears.”
Blendin: “Time Baby will succeed… He will free us from this time.”
July 13, 2012 again: back in the gift shop of the Mystery Shack, Wendy and Soos have captured Bill and tied him up to a chair. Wendy starts interrogating him, asking him who or what he is-- throwing in her multiple guesses: the Shapeshifter she defeated with Dipper in the bunker, a paper clone... She doesn’t suspect demon possession or a switch-because-of-the-carpet scenario, however. Bill just keeps trying to break free with little success, without answering; and soon, Stan interrupts them when he enters the gift shop as well, followed by the dozen of tourists he took during his latest tour. Wendy and Soos manage to evade Stan’s obvious questions by pretending they were making a new attraction.
Back in Mabel’s Dreamscape, Mabel encourages Dipper to have some fun with Bill’s powers, but he is scared of messing up because of just how powerful he is; having seen Bill’s powers both in the Mindscape/Dreamscape and in Weirdmageddon when he witnessed the alternate timelines, Dipper knows just how far those powers can go and he isn’t sure he can control them. Still, after some teasing Mabel starts a snowball fight with the surrounding ice cream, and gradually the twins have more and more fun starting with the ice cream, then with the tricks Dipper starts to use. When they take a break, Mabel points out that nothing bad happened, and Dipper grows a bit more confident that he can use Bill’s powers in a way that isn’t dangerous.
Dipper: “I guess it’s easy to do exactly what you want when it literally happens in your mind... Huh.”
Dipper notices it’s almost noon, and Mabel remembers that she was supposed to meet William at Greasy’s Diner for lunch. Mabel is unseasy upon thinking of talking to him again after what happened the day before, and Dipper confirms by showing William’s current whereabouts through a peephole that William seems about as worried as she is. Mabel takes a deep breath, makes sure that she will be able to see Dipper whenever she needs (during the night for sure, perhaps earlier if she asks for it). Still, just before Dipper wakes her up... She has a favor to ask him.
Mabel: “Now that you can do lots of magic stuff and all... Could you do something for me?”
Back in the gift shop, the tourists have left and Bill was untied due to Stan’s confusion over the situation. However, he is forced to stay inside and is stuck sitting by Wendy’s side behind the cashier desk. When Mabel goes through the gift shop to go to the Diner, everyone notices that she made a new sweater -- one with a pine tree symbol on it, no less. Bill is enraged but can’t stop her from leaving.
William has his first face reveal. He is a blonde 13-year-old, and is already waiting worriedly at Greasy’s Diner when Mabel arrives. He immediately apologizes for what happened on the day before.
William: “About yesterday, I... I’m sorry I said your brother was a bad influence. That was uncalled for.”
Mabel: “Yes. Yes it was.”
William is genuinely apologetic, but soon it is revealed that the reason why he thought Dipper and the Mystery Shack were a bad influence was because he doesn’t believe at all in the supernatural. Even if Mabel told him about her adventures, he assumed they were just stories she made up while playing in the Mystery Shack’s museum and never believed them to be true. Mabel tries to convince him by showing him some episodes of Dipper’s “Guide to the Unexplained” -- a series of videos he used to make and post online at the beginning of their summer break upon arriving in Gravity Falls, but stopped making altogether after Summerween. Sadly, the episodes made up until then did not revolve around exceptionally weird anomalies, and aren’t enough to convince William. The only thing William admits to being strange is the fact that every inhabitant of Gravity Falls is “out of their minds.”
Exasperated by William’s absurdly high levels of skepticism, Mabel eventually dares him to go on a forest expedition with her, Candy and Grenda on the next day, just so they can show him pretty much anything in the forest that is out of the ordinary. William strongly refuses and tries to dissuade her to go into the forest at all; he has been personally forbidden by his mother from going anywhere near the forest, and he has also read on the local news that there is currently a predator of unknown origin or species on the loose, which has been notably attacking sheep from the nearby farm. Mabel teases him about the fact that he believes that this creature is real, and suggests that it might be a werewolf for example; but William doesn’t take her seriously, especially because the creature is supposed to fly.
And... This is the part where my script starts getting wonky. I’ve been trying to fill the holes, but sadly it’s proven to be quite difficult, especially now that I know I won’t be drawing it in comic form anyway. Still, the main plot should be precise enough! The holes are mainly just “there should be some filler and/or foreshadowing to what’s coming here”, with little more than just prompts for what could be happening.
Back in the Mystery Shack’s gift shop, Wendy tries to sneakily question Bill, but when Stan asks them where Mabel went and Bill tells him she skipped her restocking duty so she could spend time with William at the Diner, Stan asks him to get her back. Bill happily takes this opportunity to slip out of the Mystery Shack, and have an excuse to bother Mabel at the same time.
Eventually, William is obligated to accept Mabel’s terms and intends on coming so he can at least make sure that the girls won’t put themselves in danger upon visiting the forest on their own.
Bill arrives at the Diner. William, thinking he is meeting Dipper again, tries to make amends for the things he said the previous day and says that he earnestly thinks they can start again on the right foot; Bill sadistically mocks him instead, all the while pretending to be Dipper, just so he can ruin Mabel’s hopes of reconciling William and Dipper. Bill finishes Mabel by forcing her to leave, saying that Stan expects her to work at the gift shop like she was supposed to since the beginning.
Mabel gone, William and Bill start to have a tense conversation; well, tense on William’s part, while Bill is mostly just having a blast driving William mad. The old fanfic that was the first “draft” version of the story has this chapter, which gathers most of the jokes I intended to keep, and at least some of the plot points. I’ll put a warning for awkward English, though. Oh and also, apparently in the old version it was July 3rd and not July 13th, so in the comic the “tomorrow is July 4th so the forest trip can’t happen anyway” excuse wouldn’t work.
About the Quetzalcoatlus thing: here, have some fun dinosaur size comparisons & history following my latest research on what the pterodactyl from S1E18: Land Before Swine.
William: “And how would you even know all that?”
Bill: “Because I ate Leonardo da Vinci.”
William: “. . .”
William: “… It must have been some VERY cryptic way for you to say that it was one of those conspiracy things mentioned in the old book supposedly written by a genius that you keep reading passionately every day. Right?”
Bill: “Oh, so your brain CAN work sometimes!”
Bill gets bit by a soothquito. His bite marks spell “FHOASE CORECULLY“
Upon leaving the Diner, they both see someone being kidnapped by a member of the Blindeye Society. William insists they immediately go warn the police, but Blubs and Durland prove to be ineffective as ever. Bill slips in one or two facts about the secret society, but William dismisses them completely as other random insane things Bill just happens to say all the time for trolling purposes.
Mabel is back in the Mystery Shack and starts her restocking duty, but her mind is clearly elsewhere. She starts mumbling to herself, but is interrupted by the decapitated head of Larry King who just happened to be in the vents nearby. Mabel isn’t surprised at all to see he survived, and when Larry King starts "interviewing” her about the issues she was mumbling about, she complies. Some time later, while Soos is cleaning up the floor, he overhears Mabel complaining about Bill being a jerk on purpose and making Dipper seem like a terrible person, and ends up hearing pretty much the whole story that way, without Mabel knowing. Soos proceeds to tell Wendy what he heard, helping them putting two and two together-- all the while understanding why Mabel didn’t warn them, and why they should stay silent as well. They decide not to tell Mabel they know her secret; but when Bill comes back later, just as Wendy’s shift was about to end, she has just one thing to tell him:
Wendy: “Tomorrow 6PM. My place.”
Night time; Bill is annoyed, but not very surprised by the fact that Soos is sleeping with him for the night, in the room on the ground floor where Dipper had relocated. Bill is at least glad he no longer has to pretend to be Dipper around Wendy and him.
Soos proceeds to ask Bill what his intentions were; not just in the present times now that the switch occurred, but also before it.
Soos: “So you really are that triangle guy from two weeks ago?”
Soos: “Now that I'm thinking about it… A lot of things happened two weeks ago. That's when it began to get all wrong. Well, it was already wrong before that, but… That's really when you came that everything started to get all weird and… bad.“
Soos: “It all started because of that Summerween night. What did you want with us?”
Soos: “Why did you tell Dipper that Gideon summoned you?”
Bill: “It was just a job. Jobs are boring. There’s no fun in it if nobody’s trying to stop you.”
Bill: “Oh, and you wanna know the best part? If you’d taken Shooting Star along with you instead of going just the two of you, perhaps you would’ve had an opportunity to beat me.”
Soos: What did you do with Gideon two weeks ago? Dipper and I knew it wasn’t a coincidence that those government guys showed up just the next day.
Bill: “Something that neither Pine Tree nor I want anybody to find out, I bet. Also if I were to tell you, you'd either faint or spend the next fourteen hours trying to explain it all to Red. Funny, but not worth it.”
Soos is disturbed by Bill’s attitude, because of course he tries to both troll and traumatize at once, and given how Soos was already terrified of Bill because of the Summerween night (”I’ve had nightmares for weeks!” from an earlier comic page), it doesn’t help. Soos tries to ask Bill about the deal he made with Gideon -- more specifically, he asks what Bill wanted in return for stealing the code from Stan’s mind. However, Bill doesn’t answer and instead opens the bedroom door to reveal that Mabel was trying to eavesdrop.
Mabel was mostly there to make sure that everything was alright, and deduces that Bill hadn't slept at all during the first night and that he intends to never sleep at all, even after she tells him that humans need sleep to survive. Thankfully she came prepared with a “surprise gift from Candy and Grenda”, and sprays Bill with Fairy Dust.
Mabel: “There’s probably enough in that bag to knock out a gremloblin in an instant, so I think he’s good for the night. :p”
Once Bill is asleep, Dipper takes this chance to come to his Dreamscape and talk to him one-on-one; and, he is not happy at how Bill treated Mabel so far. Still, after a certain point the conversation gets to a more pressing topic.
Bill: “You saw it happen, didn’t you?”
Bill: “Weirdmageddon. You saw it, right?”
Dipper: “. . .”
Bill: “Oh-ho, even better! There’s a timeline in which YOU make it happen, isn’t there?”
Dipper: “That’s not gonna happen.”
Bill: “Look kid, take it from me. The more you try to actively prevent a specific outcome, the more likely you usually make it happen.”
Dipper: “You can’t make something happen if you specifically stop everything that can lead to it from happening first.”
Dipper: “Even if it includes lying to Mabel… I saw it. If she learns there’s a way to get me a physical form, she’ll try anything to make it happen and disregard the consequences. I bet she trusts me to keep things under control, but everything else? There’s just... There’s too many variables. We can’t let her know anything about the portal. Or Weirdmageddon.”
Bill: “Well, that doesn’t change anything from my original plan anyway.”
Bill: “So you’re just gonna stay in the Nightmare Realm forever, is that it?”
Dipper: “That’s not much of a plan so far, but that’s still an effective way to save the world.”
Bill: “Don’t mess with me. You DO know that if you don’t make your way to another dimension eventually, you’re just going to die, right?”
Dipper: “... W-what are you talking about?”
Bill: “Wait. You REALLY didn’t figure that out yet?”
Bill: “The Nightmare Realm is unstable. It’s just gonna collapse one of these days, destroy everything in it. Could be in a billion years. Could be tomorrow.”
After leaving Bill’s Dreamscape, Dipper decides to visit Wendy’s and tell her everything. He confirms her doubts, tells her the whole story with the carpet... And he tells her about Weirdmageddon and what Bill just told him about the Nightmare Realm.
Dipper: “I mean, it’s better this way for everyone, and of course I’m not gonna go with Bill’s original plan to destroy the laws of physics or whatever, but… I-I just don’t wanna die, you know?”
Wendy: “Don’t worry. We’ll find a way.”
> Summary of chapters 3 and 4
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Your blog is just perfect! I just love how you write the characters :) Can I have some headcanons for Senku, Tsukasa and Gen? How would they comfort their s/o after a nightmare? Thanks!!
Sure!! No problem!! I hope you like these ❤️❤️also!! manga spoils for Tsukasa’s one!! (these got kinda cheesy?? lmao) (also the nightmares are kinda shitty?? sorry lmao)
Senku, Tsukasa, and Gen Comforting S/O After Nightmare HCS
S/o and him were relaxing after a long day of grueling work. Both of them were ready to conk out for the day and sleep. And somehow, Senku was in the mood to cuddle. Well, Senku’s idea of cuddling isn’t really how most people cuddle.
They were lying on the soft grass right outside the lab, both them of deciding that they were too tired to move an inch. The moon was high in the sky, the star’s twinkling. Senku’s arm was loosely wrapped around his s/o’s and he could feel s/o’s face nuzzle into his chest.
S/o slightly squeezed his hand and intertwined their fingers with his, mumbling a “Goodnight, love,” before quickly dozing off. Senku’s ears went red, it still embarrassed him when they said things like that.
Senku is actually a pretty light sleeper, so the shuffling of s/o woke him up.
Senku’s eyes slowly opened, blinking, slightly annoyed that he had woken up. A tinkle of pain shot through his chest as he snapped and was fully away now.
Even though it was dark outside, the stars in the sky provided enough light to see s/o’s face twisted in pain. He felt their fingers grip into his clothes and his hand was being squeezed by theirs.
“Senku…” they mumbled, “don’t go… don’t leave me alone..”
For once, Senku felt a painful twinge in his heart. He knew what was happening. His beloved s/o was having a nightmare.
Senku gently shook them awake, watching as their teary eyes opened. He ran his fingers through their hair, fully waking them up.
“Senku…!” they gasped as they buried their face into his chest. They quietly sobbed.
Senku wasn’t too sure of what to do. I mean, he never saw them act like this. He kept holding them and caressing their hair.
“I had a nightmare about when Tsukasa killed you,” they began, “but you never woke up…”
Senku remained silent. “S/o, look. It’s the Big Dipper.”
“What?” S/o looked at him incredulously and then looked at the sky. “Yeah, I see it too.”
He pointed to another spot in the sky. “Over there is the Orion.” S/o followed his line of sight and nodded.
“And over there is Vega, the star of love. Of star crossed lovers,” he grinned, watching as his s/o’s face turned bright red.
“S/o, you don’t have to worry about me leaving you anything soon. Tsukasa can’t do anything to us right now.”
S/o smiled into his chest as their eyelids got heavy once again. “Thank you Senku..”
“Kukuku, anything for you s/o.”
“Mhmm… I love you, Senku”
There was a pause. Senku softly smiled as he watched his s/o doze off once again.
“I love you too s/o, ten billion percent.”
“S/o-chan, s/o-chan! Let’s just go to sleep already!” Gen whined as he wrapped his arms around s/o and rested his head on the crook of their neck.
“Alright Gen, I’m coming! Geez, you’re persistent,” s/o huffed as they gave into his request. Gen cheered as he tugged on their hand. S/o gently smiled at his silliness.
They both collapsed on their shared bed, their muscles sore from the days’ work. Immediately, Gen pulled s/o close, snaking his arms around their body and burying his face into them.
S/o chuckled, responding by wrapping one arm around him and caressing his hair with the other. “Nighty-night, Gen.”
He grinned, tightening his hold on them. “You too, workaholic.” Soon, they both fell into a slumber.
In the middle of the night, Gen sleepily opened his eyes, his head still murky.
Pull.
Gen furrowed his brows at the tug at his hair. Was it just his imagination?
Pull.
This time it was harder. Gen touched the spot where he felt the pain. He felt s/o’s hand. Oh, it was just them. As he traced the lines on their hand, he felt something was off. S/o’s hand felt agitated as if something was bothering them. And since when did they ever pull his hair this hard?
He decided to take a look at s/o’s face. They were sweating hard, biting their lip hard enough to draw blood. Their eyes were squeezed shut, as they huffed uncomfortably.
Gen frowned. It was obvious what was happening, as he quickly woke s/o up from their nightmare. S/o wearily opened their eyes and blinked as they lifted their hand to cup Gen’s cheek. “Thank God.. you’re alive!” they sobbed as they launched themselves into his chest.
Gen stroked their hair softly as he held them, whispering “It’s ok, I’m here” and sweet nothings. Gen is actually really good at comforting s/o.
S/o’s crying reduced into just hiccups as their grip on his shirt loosened. “It was the worse Gen… you died.”
“I died?”
“Yea..! I dreamt the time Magma had beat you up and-”
Giggle.
S/o had abruptly stopped talking as they heard the sound. They looked up and to their surprise, Gen was trying to hold back a laugh.
“Gen!! This is really serious you know!” they pouted.
“I know but… the way you said it was so cute! And your limited vocabulary… yea Magma totally ‘beat me up’… haha!”
“Gen!” s/o bit their lip trying to stop their laughter, playfully hit his chest. “I can’t believe you!”
Gen smiled as he caught s/o fists and tangled his fingers with theirs. “S/o, don’t sweat the small stuff. I’m not planning on dying anytime soon. Why would I when I have my cute and adorable s/o by my side?”
S/o blushed, feeling slightly embarrassed but comforted. “Thank you, Gen.”
“Anything for my honey.”
(I decided to make this take place after Hyoga had, you know, literally backstab him. But instead, he doesn’t need to get frozen!! And he’s fine!! Just sore!!)
S/o had insisted that he take a break and get some rest. So both of you were currently retired for the day. Tsukasa’s arms were wrapped around their much smaller body, as his legs were tangled with theirs.
“Are you sure you’re fine? You aren’t uncomfortable?” s/o fretted as they looked up at him with concern.
Ah, how pure they were…
He gently smiled as he intertwined his fingers with s/o’s, the other hand tucking back a lock of hair behind their ear. “I really am fine, s/o. You don’t need to worry so much,” he soothingly said.
“I can’t help it! You could have almost..” they stopped their sentences as they placed a kiss on the spot he was stabbed. He smiled at the tingly happy feeling in his heart.
Cupping their cheek, he pecked their forehead reassuringly. “You should get some rest as well. I will be right here.”
S/o made a noise of agreement as they snuggled into his chest. They both succumbed to their tiredness and fell asleep.
Tsukasa is probably the lightest sleeper out of the three so it wasn’t that hard for him to wake up.
The sound of soft sobbing and mumbling woke him up. “S/o?”
He rubbed his eyes, and sure enough, s/o was there, tears streaming down their cheek. He frowned, his heart ached as he hated to see his beloved crying.
He gently shook his s/o awake, watching as s/o’s eyes opened. “Tsuka..!”
Tsukasa held them as they cried, wiping away every tear that appeared. He soothingly massaged their scalp, as he let them tangle their fingers into his long locks.
“I dreamt when you got hurt by Hyoga, but this time you, you, you-” s/o sputtered, unable to complete their sentence.
Tsukasa placed his finger on their soft lips, and other tilting their chin as he leaned in and kissed them lovingly. As he pulled away he rested his forehead on s/o’s.
“S/o, don’t cry,” he began, wiping away the last of their tears, “I am never going to leave you. I’ll be by your side, forever, and I hope that you’ll be by mine as well.”
“Tsuka… I’ll always be with you! No matter what happens… I’ll always love you.”
Tsukasa smiled as he kissed them once again.
“I love you always, s/o.”
#dr stone#dr stone headcanon#dr stone x reader#senku ishigami#gen asagiri#tsukasa shishio#senku x reader#gen x reader#tsukasa x reader
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New Little Mini-Fic! Got a bit bold this time, haha.
Got some inspiration from @yandereaffections. Love your blog!
This is a yandere gender neutral reader x oc, cause I rarely see any yandere self inserts x s/o. Warnings: Sedating, non-descriptive mention of gutting, kidnapping.
With a shaky exhale, you look around the woods, picnic basket in hand. WIth every step you take, you feel as though your heart slams harder into your ribcage as you search for the one reason why you’re out here instead of staying inside when it’s raining. Sure, it’s not raining that hard now, but soon the sky will be pouring.
Of course, that’s the plan. Because when it rains, that’s when she is out.
You can remember her clearly, seeing her on a rainy day like this. And now you’re well prepared for her now.
After trekking about in the woods, the pattering of drops gradually increasing their intensity, you soon see a figure in the clearing, sitting a few feet from the lake. For a moment, you simply stand behind the trees, transfixed by the creature in front of you.
Her dreadlocks crown her head as she looks up at the sky, the orange mock in peeking from them as they reach out for the droplets. Of course, the more you look the more she appears inhuman, with her antlers curve from her forehead, then curve into themselves slightly, almost like a buck’s. This is also paired with both her drooping ears where more humanlike ones should be, and as her where her knees should be, legs fit for a fallow deer meet almost just below your knees. She truly is a sight to see, and for a moment, you almost lose your nerve.
No. You refuse to stop, not after this work. With an exhale, you step out into the clearing, acting just as surprised as she did when she looks over, her ears slightly pricking up in surprise.
“Oh! Uh, hello,” she stammers, her lips quirked in a rather forced, nervous smile. She seems to stand up, and for a moment your heart drops.
“Um, sorry for intruding on you, I wasn’t aware of there being anyone else here. I was just about to have a picnic, but it started to rain,” you say, lifting the basket slightly to draw her attention to it. She tilts her head slightly, intrigued. “Oh, would you like something from here?”
“Uh, are you sure?” she asks, though her eyes still trained on the basket. Got her.
You smile a bit, nodding. “It’s fine. I don’t mind sharing some food. And, maybe some company in this rain would be fun.” You walk over, sitting beside her. She smiles again, though it’s less forced, but still a bit skittish. You place the basket between you two, smiling at her reassuringly. “So, I have sandwiches, fruits, mini bags of chips, honey, and pudding. Also some lemonade and water. ”
She looks back up at the sky as she thinks, droplets dripping down her nose and cheeks. “Mmm, I’d like a fruit with honey. Banana, maybe?” She asks hesitantly, looking back at you. You nod, reaching into the basket. “Lucky for you, I have a bowl with banana slices. I was actually expecting a friend, but they bailed on me. Lucky me, huh.”
She lets out a titter, relaxing slightly. “Certainly. Being stood up while caught in the rain? Fortune seems to be your strong suit.”
You smile again, your heart pounding a bit harder than usual hearing her giggle. You hand her the tupperware holding sliced bananas along with the honey jar, the honey dipper included. As you grab a cup of pudding, grabbing some plasticware, you watch her from the corner of your eye.
She opens both the tupperware and the jar, placing the container of banana slices on her lap. She slips a couple of the fruit in her mouth as she dips the honeycomb-shaped end of the dipper stick into the sweet viscous liquid. Drizzling the golden treat onto the slices, she smiles to herself as she tastes them. You use your spoon to hide your smile, once again thanking the research you gathered. You noticed she had a thing for sweets whenever she would lap up the sweetness of the honeysuckles from bushes or the occasional dessert she swiped from unsuspecting picnic goers.
“Thanks again, these are actually good. I’m Karth by the way,” she says, a bit of honey on her lower lip. You resist the urge to wipe it off as the pink tip of her tongue swipes the liquid bead into her mouth. Now you ignore the urge to chase it with your own.
“Uh...you have any more?” Karth asks sheepishly, rubbing her neck. You pretend that you were minding your business earlier, looking down and seeing that she was completely done with the banana slices. “Ah, I have a peanut butter sandwich if that’s alright with you.” A nod signifies her approval as you exchange the empty container with a sandwich. You then grab a sandwich of your own, this one being a ham and cheese. The two of you eat, looking up at the cloudy sky as the raindrops make small ripples in the lake. It’s quite peaceful, honestly, the world more somber, but with a sense of serenity. You inhale and sigh softly, smelling the rain on the grass and trees.
You look over at Karth again, and she looks pretty drowsy. Of course, she seems to not want to mention it and toughen it out, though it’s obvious since her eyes are pretty droopy and she seems to want to just conk out against the tree. “Uhm, you alright?”
“Mhm,” she hums, scooting herself into the clearing more so the cool droplets could wake her up a bit.
“I could keep watch, y’know. I don’t really have any reception, and I have a blanket I was going to use before the rain,” you offer, pulling it out. “It’s not that thick, but it’s probably large enough for you to wrap around in terms of layers.”
She thinks about it for a few minutes before she agrees, allowing you to wrap the blanket around her. As you sit down, you notice a slight weight leaning on you and resting on your shoulder. As you look down, you see Karth resting her head on you. You chew your lip slightly, cursing mentally as you feel your heart speed up ten times over. You continue to look forward, before you are sure that she is truly asleep, before you carefully scoop her up in a bridal style, ensuring that she’s secure in your arms. After a few minutes, you reach your car. You prop her up carefully against a car to unlock and open the back door. You’re not worried of her waking up, since with the sleeping pills that were crushed and mixed in the honey, she won’t be waking up for a bit.
Gingerly placing her into the backseat, you close her in, then hop in the driver’s seat, heading into your town 45 minutes from the woods. Every now and then, you glance at the rearview mirror, looking at her sleeping form. You can’t stop the smile twitching at your lips. It’s pretty much done now. You have her.
Pulling up to your house, park the car. Turning it off, you exit the vehicle and carefully carry your little doe to your home. Opening the door, you transport her to the spare room that you made her own, laying Karth on the bed. You remove the damp blanket off of her and grab a towel, drying her off slowly. You then pull the cover over her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Your heart skips a beat as she smiles slightly in her sleep. You use zip ties to tie her hands and legs together, using multiple so in case she rips one off, she’d be too exhausted to open the others.
You then lock the door, closing it and stretching. As you head to your room, you hear thunder from outside. Huh, looks like you got in at the nick of time. You get into your bed, falling asleep as the thunder rolls and the rain pours.
--
When you wake up, you’re met with… a sight.
There she is, Karth. She’s asleep, that’s for sure.
But she’s in your room. In your bed. With a couple of stretched out zip ties hanging from her arm.
….Well, this is something. You sit up and stumble out of bed, noticing just how disoriented you are. Like, more than average. You head into the bathroom, turning the light on to see your disheveled face. Looking around the counter, you notice your sleeping gummies are closed rather haphazardly. You open them and see that it wasn’t a lot that were missing, probably two or three. You head back into your room and grab your phone, checking the time to see it’s almost 12 pm. Well, that puts one thing in rest, but how did she escape the room?
You step out into the hallway and dash to “her”room, where you see the door with a rather nasty hole in it, splinters decorating the floor. You should’ve been able to hear that last night...except for the fact that it was thundering loudly. Perfect. Stepping inside the room, you see that there were gashes on the wall, and a couple of hoof marks on the doorway and floor. So she kicked her way out. Smart.
Well, if she escaped the room, why is she still here? And why in your room? Entering, you notice Karth waking up, rubbing her eyes. She sits up and sees you, smiling sleepily. “Hey, I guess you’re surprised, huh?”
You slowly nod, not really thinking. “How...how did you resist the sedatives?”
“I was pretty much in and out of it. Really gouged up the walls and all that,” Karth replies, leaning back against the bed. Still very calm considering she just escaped the room her captor had prepped for her.
“Why are you...here then?” you ask, though your mind screams for you to shut up and enjoy this.
“Well, I figured that since you’re oh, so infatuated with me, to the point of kidnapping me without even knowing if I’m secretly hostile and I actually lure humans in in order to gut them senseless,” she trails off, a rather wicked glint in her eyes, “I decided to stay, since I’ve never seen a human who had saw me and didn’t decide to run off or try to shoot me down.”
You smile rather deliriously, nodding. “Oh, I’m glad. Thank you.”
Her smile drops a bit. “However, we must have a deal.” She straightens up, looking you in the eye. “You will have to actually get me to like you. Y’know, romance me, court me, if you will. And if you fail, I will have to dispose of you.”
“What?!” You protest, stepping forward. “But doesn’t that seem a bit unfair? After all, it’s not my intention to hurt you, far from it.” Well, unless she were to push your limits. But that was before you realized you weren’t in control.
“But do you not think that it was unfair of you to trick me into being sedated and kidnapped?” She counters, tilting her head. You look away, knowing the answer. “But if I’m being nice, I suppose you won’t have a set deadline. I will tell you when your time is up.”
You nod, though it still feels grim. That means it can be a month, year, or even tomorrow if she was feeling rather vicious. And you can’t say you blame her.
To woo the predator in prey’s clothing, for an unknown amount of time against you. What fun.
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[Coco - Gravity Falls] Three Part Harmony
I wrote this for @perlogannwyl in exchange for her donation to BLM. Her prompt was Miguel interacting with Dipper and Mabel from Gravity Falls, discussing the weirdness around them.
It took me... much longer than planned to write this, so I made it into a longer fic to make up for the delay. Sorry for the wait, hope you like it!
If you’d like to request a flash fic in exchange of a charity donation, here’s how.
It took Miguel roughly half a day to realize that primo Jésus - “Soos, dude, call me Soos. Unless I have the fez on, then I’m Mr. Mystery. Want some pizza? I’ve got this slice that never ends!” - was not the oddest person he could possibly meet in that town. Not by a long shot.
“The locals are not odd, Miguel,” his father had told him, bouncing Socorro in his arms while his mamá caught up with her tía. Or at least tried to, because she had her attention split in three different directions: a third on her grand-niece, a third on the telenovela playing on the TV screen in the corner, and another third on cleaning every surface within reach as visitors walked through that… Mystery Shack his cousin apparently ran.
Miguel didn’t answer as much as he gestured wildly at their surroundings. Somewhere on his left, a man wearing a tinfoil hat was taking a selfie next to a fur-covered trout mounted to the wall. His papá opened his mouth, hesitated, closed it again, and cleared his throat.
“They’re Americans,” was all he could finally say in their defense as Socorro tried to get back his undivided attention by attempting to rip off his mustache.
Miguel had expected Americans to be kind of weird, just not that kind of weird. Still, as he wandered around the Mystery Shack - previously named Murder Hut, a plaque read, which made him… slightly uncomfortable - he had to admit that stuff was actually kind of cool. Also, Soos’ girlfriend was nice and had shown him how to get snacks for free from the distributor.
“Are you sure it’s not a problem?” Miguel had asked, causing Melody - nice name, that - to shrug while she gave a customer change with one hand and made notes for the table disposition at the upcoming wedding. It was the reason why they were there, but as Miguel’s mamá hadn’t seen her tía since she married herself, she had wanted them to arrive a few days before the ceremony to meet properly.
“Of course not, don’t worry about it. Soos shows how to do it to everyone who walks in.”
“Ah.” Miguel had taken a snack, and wandered out to eat it without being chased with a vacuum cleaner, walking past a group of people holding up cameras and trying to figure out whether what was before their eyes was a rock that looked like a face or a face that looked like a rock.
And then he’d seen it, just as it disappeared behind the trees. Something tiny, with a white beard and a pointed hat and… and…
Miguel blinked, and looked again; nothing but trees, now. But he was… fairly sure he had seen something. As per what that something was-- ay, he must be hallucinating. Was the snack he was eating past the expiry date?
He’d just turned it around to check when a truck screeched to a half right beside him, tires leaving marks in the grass and giving Miguel a mini heart attack. The driver’s door was thrown open, revealing primo Jes-- Soos at the wheel, grinning widely.
“Back from the bus stop! Dudes, this is my second-something cousin Miguel!”
The very first impression wasn’t stellar, mostly because most people he met didn’t greet him by smacking a hand on his forehead to put a sticker on it. Or trying to ask him if he was single. Trying to, because her brother very quickly and very loudly began introducing himself before things got awkward, moving the chat to more normal grounds.
Well. Relatively normal.
“... And I’m going to be a bridesmaid and - they still don’t know it, but I’ll throw glitter everywhere,” Mabel announced, spreading her arms. “It will be a huge surprise! I mean, if you tell no one, it will be a huge surprise. But you won’t tell anyone,” she added, her smile huge.
Miguel wasn’t entirely sure if she meant to come across as slightly threatening or if he was letting past bad experiences give him the wrong impression, but either way he responded with a smile that he hoped was convincing.
“I’ll be silent as--” a grave? “... As, uh, someone really silent.”
“Soos’ abuelita will probably vacuum it all up immediately,” Dipper pointed out, causing his sister to frown.
“Right,” she muttered, rubbing her chin like a general devising an attack plan. “We need to find a way to keep the vacuum away from her.”
“... You don’t really think she’d bring it to the church during the wedding, do you?” Miguel asked, only for both Dipper and Mabel to nod.
“You have met her, right?” Dipper asked, and Miguel had to concede that they had a point.
“Fair.”
“We should sabotage it,” Mabel declared, and suddenly snapped her fingers. “Oh! I know! When our Grunkles get here tomorrow--”
“Our great uncles,” Dipper supplied helpfully before Miguel could voice his confusion.
“-- We’re going to ask them to help us turn the vacuum into a leaf blower! So that if she tries to clean up, she’ll only spread glitter even more! A double surprise!”
To Miguel’s worry, Dipper - who’d struck him as the most sensible of the two - began pacing, giving the matter some serious thought. “We would need to do it right before we head to church, if she tries to use it before we head off she’ll know. Someone will need to distract her.”
“Miguel volunteers!” Mabel exclaimed, grabbing Miguel’s arm and lifting it with a surprising amount of strength, almost lifting him off his feet. “He’ll distract her!”
“... Are you sure this is a good idea?” Miguel asked cautiously. It seemed pretty nonsensical, but then again, his own solution to a problem a couple of years prior had been grave robbing, so maybe he wasn’t precisely on a much higher ground.
“It’s a great idea! Leaf blowers always worked well for us. We used it to blow away some gnomes once.”
Miguel blinked. With the mind’s eye he saw it again, something really small with a pointy hat running over some bushes. But he’d just hallucinated that… right? “... Qué?”
“Nothing!” Dipper exclaimed suddenly, trying to elbow his sister in a way that couldn’t have been more obvious if he’d tried. Mabel waved a hand.
“Come on, Dip Dop, it took us… days to realize this place was weird. I’m going to be surprised if he didn’t notice--”
“... Was that a… gnome?”
Mabel gave her brother a classic Told You So grin. “Did you see a very small guy with a beard and a red pointy hat, or a brooding mysterious stranger?”
“Uh… the first one you said. About over there, running back into the forest.”
“Then it was a gnome! If you'd seen the brooding mysterious stranger, then it would still be gnomes but, like, five of them stacked on top of each other. If you see a giant creature of unimaginable horror, that is still gnomes. Just a lot more than five.”
Miguel’s gaze shifted to Dipper, half-hoping he’d laugh and admit it was a joke. Instead, he shrugged.
“Don’t worry, they don’t do that anymore,” he informed him.
“Ah,” Miguel said, faintly wondering if they were making fun of him or were just insane. But then again, he had seen a tiny man running off into the woods. Plus something even more incredible, too, a couple of years ago.
Unaware of his thoughts, Mabel was frowning. “Come to think of it, the giant Gnominator would have been useful during Weirdmageddon.”
Miguel, whose English classes had never included terms like Gnominator and Weirdmageddon, settled to just nod as though what she was saying made sense. “... Right.”
“Or when Dipper raised the dead.”
“Of cou-- wait, what?”
“It was an accident, Mabel,” Dipper protested, crossing his arms. “You know it won’t happen again.”
“I know, I know. Oh, don’t worry, Miguel! We know how to beat them! A perfect three part harmony, and they’re dead again. Soos told us you like music, so you can sing, no?”
“I said I won’t raise them again, we don’t need Soos to turn into a zombie again right before his wed--”
“You met the dead, too?” Miguel blurted out, causing both siblings to trail off and turn to look at him. Suddenly it was Dipper step right in his face, taking a notebook and a pen out of… seemingly nowhere.
“You met the Undead, too?”
Miguel blinked. Undead? “They were all… pretty definitely dead.”
“Yes, yes, but like-- zombies?”
“Uh, no. Just… skeletons.”
Mabel nodded, extremely serious. “Thin zombies,” she declared.
“What-- no, they were not zombies at all.”
“No eating brains?”
“... They seemed to prefer Pan de Muerto.”
Dipper wrote that down. “No biting?”
“N… no?”
“Trying to drag you in your grave?”
“No, they just all kind of… really wanted me to go back home.”
"So they didn’t try to kill you?"
"N--" Miguel paused. "... Well, one did. But most of them wanted me to go home. They were my family.”
Mabel sighed. “Aww, you raised your family from the dead!”
“No, I was just robbing a grave and--” he paused, and rubbed his temples. “I really think we’re talking about two entirely different things here.”
“Yeah, sounds like-- wait. Grave robbing?”
Miguel shifted. “Not my best decision,” he muttered. Only that it had been, in the end, if anything for how things had worked out. Had he not been in the Land of the Dead that night, then…
Dipper lifted the notebook again, clicking his pen with a slightly manic look in his eyes. “We have a lot to talk about,” he said, and they did.
That place was weird, the people were weird, but Miguel found that talking about what had happened in the Land of the Dead, with someone who believed him, wasn’t too bad at all.
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It’s Been Awhile
It’s Been Awhile
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(UFF Fic)
Takes place between Unleash the Light & Steven Universe: The Movie
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It’s amazing how fast things can progress. It’s only been a little over a year since Era 3 began and Steven had already made big changes to the gem empire. Convincing the Diamonds to liberate their colonies. Allowing gems more freedom. And even constructing a place on Earth where gems can learn to be themselves and how to live freely, Little Homeworld.
Even though Steven is half-diamond, he couldn’t do all of that alone. Luckily, he didn’t have to. He had the help of his family and friends, who have been there for him through thick and thin. Especially that of the Pines twins, Dipper and Mabel. They had gone through almost everything Steven had gone through. From encountering monsters & elite gems to galactic tyrants & dream demons. Although some of those events left a scar or two, their bond with Steven couldn’t be any stronger.
Even though he’s patched things up between him, the crystal gems & the diamonds, he knows that deep down, he can’t forgive the diamonds for everything they put him, his family & friends through, especially after what Yellow did to his best friend Dipper.
Even when he does have those feelings, he always puts others before himself. In his case, all gem kind comes first. Of course, he would feel better if he didn’t come alone. However, all of the gems on Earth were busy constructing Little Homeworld. He would ask Stan and/or Ford Pines, but they were away on an adventure together in the middle of the ocean, on the Stan o’ War II. Connie was busy with studying for school, so Steven didn’t want to bother her either. That left only two options, and he wasn’t sure if they would come along with him, Dipper & Mabel. Surprisingly, they agreed to come along. Even though they too had some bad experience(s) on the gem homeworld, they had free time and wanted to support Steven anyway they could. If that meant keeping him company while he meets up with the diamonds, then so be it.
HOMEWORLD
It may have been a year since they were last on Homeworld, but the twins noticed that the gem planet has been making changes of their own. Not only was the caste system disbanded and all gems were allowed to have relationships with gems of different courts, but homeworld was also planting trees.
Right now, the twins were waiting outside the doors to the throne room as Steven was catching up with the diamonds and discussing how to make Era 3 better. Even though the twins wanted to be by Steven’s side, they figured it was best if they were supporting him from outside of the room, away from the diamonds, especially Yellow. Of all the diamonds, Yellow was the one who the twins disliked the most, especially Dipper, for obvious reasons as he looked at his metallic arm.
“How much longer do you think they’ll be in there?” Mabel asked her smart twin brother.
“I want to say soon, but who knows. Either Steven wants to make sure everything is going smoothly with Era 3 or the diamonds are begging him to move in with him. Heck, I wouldn’t be surprised if they made some presentation for him about the pros and cons of living here. Or Blue could just be smothering him against her cheek” Dipper theorized with his sister.
“Think what you may, I actually think it’s kinda cute that Blue does that to him.” Mabel said as she awed at imagining Steven up against his diamond relative’s cheek.
“If she did that to anyone else, she’d probably accidently crush them.” Dipper mentioned, trying to talk Mabel out of it.
“It’d be worth it!” Mabel said positively as the siblings shared a slight giggle. However, their laughter would be put on hold when footsteps were coming their way and a familiar voice was heard.
“Hello Dipper”
The twins halted their laughter as soon as they heard those words. They both recognized who said them. Dipper especially. It was the voice of the person, or gem, that made his first time on homeworld miserable. She tortured him, mentally abused him, and even took part in removing his arm, which is now replaced by a robotic one. The elite era 1 gem that served under yellow diamond’s court.
Hessonite
“It’s been awhile. I see you and your……… sibling decided to accompany Steven to Homeworld as he meets with the diamonds.” Hessonite said. The twins didn’t face her as they instead just decided to ignore her as they directed their eyes towards the ground, hoping that Hessonite would just walk past them.
Although Hessonite was annoyed by their silence, she understood why. After all, she played her part in forever changing their lives. Although Yellow Diamond was the one who came up with the project of making humans into assassins for homeworld, she was put in charge of making sure the project went smoothly. Not just molding Dipper into the ruthless assassin Stonemason, but also using the light prism as a weapon against them.
Of course, Hessonite saw herself as a changed gem and wanted to change the relationship between her and Dipper. Of course, she knew right away it would be easier said than done. Hessonite kept walking past the twins, but stopped in place. She looked towards the end of the hallway, but decided to speak up.
“I see that you both won’t speak to me, let alone look at me, but I assure you that the Hessonite you put up with in the past will never show herself again. It’s thanks to Steven and the light prism, or I guess George, that I have a new perspective on life and am a different gem because of it. I will do everything I can to make sure Era 3 will flourish and-“
“Just Stop” Dipper said, interrupting his former tormentor’s monologue. Hessonite didn’t turn to face him, but was surprised at his bold demand. He decided to raise his head up and face her even though she won’t do the same.
“I’m only going to say this once and you better listen good. First of all, my sister and I are only here for Steven. I didn’t come here to see you. Get this through your head. You may claim to be a changed gem, but I will never see you as one. What you, Yellow and everyone else involved in doing what you did to me and everyone else is unforgivable. If you really want to make amends, then do one thing. Stay the hell away from me, my sister, my family and everyone else I care about! If I ever see you again, or even hear your voice, then I promise you, we will BOTH be sorry. You already left a wound on me. The last thing I need is you causing another one, whether intentional or not.” Dipper lectured to the orange gem his demand before making one last statement.
“If you understand, then keep walking & don’t turn back.” Dipper told her. After a brief silence, Hessonite did just that as she continued walking down the hall. Away from the door to the throne room and from the Pines twins.
Mabel finally looked up when she couldn’t hear the footsteps anymore and turned to face her brother.
“You ok bro-bro?” She asked with concern.
“Yes and no.” He said plainly as he looked at his metal arm. When he did, Mabel grabbed his yellow hand with her own hand and gave him a warm smile, which resulted in him doing the same.
“Yes” He said with a warm smile as they continued to wait for their friend. After a couple more minutes, Steven emerged from the door and turned to see his friends happy that their wait is over.
“How’d it go S-man?” Mabel said with a goofy tone.
“Pretty boring. It started off talking about Era 3, but changed direction with the diamonds asking me to move into the palace.” Steven recapped his meeting.
“Called it.” Dipper said under his breath as Mabel just rolled her eyes.
“I’m sorry I made you guys wait so long” Steven apologized to his friends, not thinking that the meeting would take longer than he thought.
“Don’t worry about it Steven.” Mabel said to her friend with a comforting smile.
“Yeah, we don’t mind.” Dipper added.
“Are you guys sure? I thought I heard another voice earlier. Who was it?” Steven questioned as curiosity got the better of him. The twins looked at each other, wondering what they should say. Should they just avoid the question and tell him it wasn’t anyone important. Or should they tell him the truth? Dipper decided to speak first.
“Let’s just say it’s someone we don’t have the best history with.” Dipper answered. Steven wondered who he meant specifically. There were a number of homeworld gems that gave Steven and his friends a rough time (Aquamarine, Eyeball, Squaridot, etc.). But he could tell that Dipper wouldn’t go into any further detail. Mabel then decided to intervene.
“But now we don’t have to worry about them, because Dipper told her like it is.” Mabel added on as she gave a warm stare at her brother as he made eye contact with her and did the same thing.
Steven didn’t know who they just encountered, but he could tell by the look on their faces that they overcome whatever troubled them. He was happy that they seemed stronger as twins.
“You guys want to head back to Earth?” Steven asked.
“Yeah” The twins responded at the same time. The three friends soon walked the opposite end of the hall to make it to the nearest warp pad that would take them back to Earth.
As she watched the three of them walk away, Hessonite learned something. She knew she wanted to make amends with the twins. But even helping them, Steven and the Crystal Gems deal with Pyrobe & Demantoid, some things are just too difficult to look past. Hessonite accepted that fact and decided to live her life as a new gem, and obliged to Dipper’s demand for her to stay away from him and his loved ones. As she continued to walk out of the palace, she said something to herself that’s meant for the three young friends.
“I wish you all a good future”
#sumbission#submission#ooooo!#i liked this!#interesting take on hessonite post cym#all these good wwriting submissions today im here for it#universe falls#uf 5th year anniversary celebration#uf fan art#not mine#uf fan stuff
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Chapter 7
Coriolanus’s initial reaction was to recoil like the others, to grab hold of the monkey house bars for support, but Lucy Gray hissed, “Help her!” He remembered the cameras streaming live to the Capitol audience. He had no idea what to do for Arachne, but he did not want to be seen cringing and clinging. His terror was a private thing, not meant for public display.
Of course Snow would care more about his image than a dying girl.
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Coriolanus glanced over in time to see the District 10 girl retrieve the cheese sandwich and take a furious bite before the bullets pierced her body, slamming her into the bars. She slipped into a heap as her blood commingled with Arachne’s. Bits of half-chewed food fell from her mouth and floated in the red pool.
I like what Suzanne did here.
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Coriolanus, along with several people around him, automatically crossed off the name of the girl from District 10. But then what? It would make sense to cross off Arachne’s name as well, but that felt different. His pen hovered over her name and then left it alone for the moment. It seemed pretty cold to scratch her off the list like that.
The fact that he even considered it says a lot about his character.
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Oh my god, Dr. Gaul is a wicked person.
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Summary: On Lucy Gray’s insistence, Snow tries to save Arachne, but she dies. He, Arachne and Clemensia were supposed to write up a proposal to get the audiences more involved with the Hunger Games but Clemensia was feeling too disturbed to go her part that night. Instead, Snow draftes a proposal all by himself and dropped it by Gaul’s office the next morning. He was hailed a hero by his classmates for trying to save Arachne. When he and Clemensia go to visit Dr. Gaul later in the day, Clemensia asks him to pretend that she played a part in writing the proposal. Dr. Gaul wishes to know who wrote the proposal when they finally meet. Clemesnia says this:
“And Arachne was planning to help write it up last night, but then . . . as you said,” he added.
“But you two forged ahead, is that it?” asked Dr. Gaul.
“That’s right,” said Clemensia. “We wrote it up at the library, and I printed it out at my apartment last night. Then I gave it to Coriolanus so he could drop it off this morning. As assigned.”
Dr. Gaul later says that she’s thrown the papers into a glass case filled with genetically modified snakes. She asks Snow to go first and pick the papers. He manages to do so. When Clemensia attempts to do so, Dr. Gaul reveals that the snakes will bite if a scent is foreign (as in, Snow’s scent is familiar because he wrote the papers but hers is not because she didn’t). She tries to pull her hand back out but the snakes bite her before she can.
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Chapter 8
“Good. The truth, finally. I’ve no use for liars. What are lies but attempts to conceal some sort of weakness? If I see that side of you again, I’ll cut you off. If Dean Highbottom punishes you for it, I won’t stand in his way. Are we clear?” She wrapped one of the pink snakes around her wrist like a bracelet and seemed to be admiring it.
Well, I like that she won’t tolerate any sort of nonsense. But she’s still a very terrible person and the scene did shake me up. I like that.
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He made a wrong turn, then another, and found himself in a ghoulish section of the lab where the glass cases housed humans with animal parts grafted to their bodies. Tiny feathered ruffs around their necks; talons, or even tentacles, in place of fingers; and something — perhaps gills? — embedded in their chests. His appearance startled them, and when a few opened their mouths to plead with him, he realized they were Avoxes. Their cries reverberated and he caught a glimpse of small black birds perched above them. The name jabberjay popped into his mind. A brief chapter in his genetics class. The failed experiment, the bird that could repeat human speech, that had been a tool for espionage until the rebels had figured out its abilities and sent it back carrying false information. Now the useless creatures were creating an echo chamber filled with the Avoxes’ pitiful wails.
creepy
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He buried his head in his hands, confused, angry, and most of all afraid. Afraid of Dr. Gaul. Afraid of the Capitol. Afraid of everything. If the people who were supposed to protect you played so fast and loose with your life . . . then how did you survive? Not by trusting them, that was for sure. And if you couldn’t trust them, who could you trust? All bets were off.
It feels weird to read this when you realise what he’s going to go on to become. I really hope it’s handled well.
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Coriolanus had a terrible image of her lying dead under a swarm of rats. It wiped away the last few shreds of resistance he had, and despair engulfed him. For her. For himself. For the both of them. “Oh, Lucy Gray, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry about all of this.”
Okay, I liked some of the parallels and imagery Suzanne’s evoked in this chapter. Also, it does seem natural for Snow to be sympathetic because of the Clemensia incident and given his past.
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“Eat the others,” he urged, nodding to the second packet.
She shook her head. “No. I’ll save these for Jessup. He’s my ally now.”
“Your ally?” Coriolanus was perplexed. How could one have an ally in the Games?
“Uh-huh. The tributes from District Twelve are going down together,” said Lucy Gray. “He’s not the brightest star in the Dipper, but he’s strong as an ox.”
This is kind of making it really obvious? District 12 tributes who’re allies? 😒
I guess it would make sense why it would especially piss Snow off during the 74th Hunger Games. But still. You really don’t need to try that hard.
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He rarely listened to the Capitol radio broadcast, which mostly played marches and propaganda songs. Those all sounded the same to him.
Uhh, would Snow think of them as propaganda songs? I guess he’s smart enough to recognise them for what they are.
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Snow said that Lucy mattered to him at least twice. It doesn’t feel like he likes her enough to actually say that? So far it’s felt like he only wishes to see Lucy treated with respect and not anything more.
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He had the misfortune to bump into his classmate Persephone Price, the daughter of the infamous Nero Price, who’d once cannibalized the maid.
1. The sentence doesn’t seem grammatically sound.
2. Is this supposed to be funny?
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Summary: Not much happens. Snow is horrified, and feels the need to visit Lucy for comfort. Turns out the tributes have been starved for five days. Also, Lucy has formed an alliance with her fellow district 12 tribute.
#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#aelia reads the ballad of songbirds and snakes#chapters 7 and 8 okay
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Mabel’s All-in-One Guide to Being a Shooting Star: How to Avoid Being Caught and Other Tips You Should Know
Chapter Two: Eyes
I just realized I never posted this despite it being written and posted on AO3 already. Sorry. Here it is.
I’m coming for you, and I’m making war.- Fall Out Boy, Irresistible
Mabel had imagined her wedding a million times. She’d imagined her dress, the flowers, the music, the lights- everything. What girl hadn’t? Mostly, though, she’d imagined the groom. It was always Dipper. It always ended up being Dipper. The first time she imagined her wedding, it was Dipper (although at the time, it was just ten-year-old Dipper with longer legs), although she hadn’t really understood why. Not until much later in her life, anyway.
The last time something like this had happened, Dipper had come to save her. He’d always come to save her. Dipper had always been there for her, and her for him.
But Dipper wasn’t coming. Not this time. She was alone. Really and truly alone. The gnomes wanted her for their queen. They’d never stopped, she supposed. And Dipper was nowhere to be found. He wasn’t coming for her.
“... and do you, Mabel Pines, take us, the gnomes, to be your husbands for all time?” Jeff was spouting off nonsense. Surely he didn’t think Mabel was just going to go along with a forced marriage just because he’d tied her up!
Except yes, he very clearly expected that exact thing, because as soon as they’d yanked the sack from over her head and she saw herself to be standing in an entirely different clearing than the one she’d been in previously, they’d shoved an exceedingly tacky wedding dress that had very clearly been made for her twelve-year-old self as far as they could up her body. They’d neglected to remove her clothes (for which Mabel thanked whatever deity presided over Gravity Falls), however, saying that she was fighting too hard and that there wasn’t enough time anyway, and they’d only been able to get the dress up to her hips, the ridiculous puffy sleeves drooping down her thighs.
They’d tied her arms to her sides, and the ropes were painful, but she ignored it. Jeff was looking at her expectantly, waiting for an answer.
She sent him a glare that could’ve killed a zombie, her gaze silent and unblinking.
Dipper wasn’t coming. He wasn’t going to save her. Not this time. Maybe not ever again.
She’d have to save herself.
And then she brought her foot back as far as she could in that stupid flippin’ dress, and punted the stupid little bastard like a damn soccer ball. He made a little “euf!” sound when the toe of her sneaker connected with his abdomen, and he hit a tree trunk with a thwack, sliding down to the ground. He wasn’t unconscious (dammit, that would’ve been one less of the little fuckers to deal with), but he was definitely winded.
“You want a queen? I’ll show you a freakin’ queen, you little assholes!” she shouted. The gnomes were frozen for a second, and then they ran at her through the grass as fast as their stubby legs could carry them.
She kicked a second, then a third, and a fourth, sending each one somersaulting through the air. By the time she was rearing her leg back to kick the fifth, however, too many of them had swarmed her at once, climbing up her dress -no, not her dress, their dress, it didn’t even freaking fit her- and making her tumble to the ground. Her head thunked against the ground, and that definitely hadn’t been a good sound, she didn’t think. In fact, suddenly she couldn’t think clearly at all, hardly even registering the rock that scratched her arm.
Jeff hobbled over to where she lay on her stomach, a furious expression his face.
“You dare-“ he cut himself off. “We are to be your husbands! You will be our queen, yes, and you’ll make a fine one once you aren’t so… willful, but you must treat us with respect!”
Mabel could barely register his words. Her head was spinning, and he was feeling terribly woozy. She’d fainted once before, when a nurse had taken a blood test and she’d been on her period. She could tell it was going to happen again.
She was not looking forward to it. She’d been so damn nauseous afterwards, for, like, half an hour, she hadn’t even been able to go home right away, and seriously, what was that about-
Jeff’s words finally clicked in her poor, addled brain. Respect? Respect?
“Fuck you,” she muttered furiously, her voice barely above a whisper. He heard her, though, because even with her fuzzy vision, she could see him grinning at her in a way that made her feel even sicker than she already did, which was no small amount, given the very obvious concussion she knew she had.
“Actually,” he said with the creepiest smirk she’d ever seen, “I’d rather fuck you.” Mabel thought she was going to vomit, surely she was going to vomit all over his stupid gnome-sized shoes.
But then, a gnome (a gnome? Why was he all red? Were they usually all red? No, right? No, wait- that was… that was blood! He was covered in blood! Holy moley, she’d never seen that much blood all at once, what in the hell-) stumbled out of the trees and into Mabel’s line of sight, and it took her a second to remember that the world wasn’t sideways, it was just that the side of her face was smushed against the grass, that was all.
“I’m sorry, Jeff,” the blood-gnome panted as Jeff stared at him, slack-jawed. He’d probably never seen that much blood at once, either. “We tried, we tried to stop him, but-“
And then, the strangest thing happened. The blood-gnome, still panting at the edge of forest, he exploded. As in he actually, legitimately, honest-to-goodness exploded. There was blood splatter on the ground and on the trees; even Mabel and her fuzzy vision could tell that.
That wasn’t the weirdest thing, though. The weirdest thing was that there was a figure. She was pretty sure it was a figure. No, no, that was definitely a figure. Except… he was floating? Yes, definitely floating. And glowing, too, it seemed. How odd.
And then the world went dark.
———————————————————————
“How dare you?” demanded a calm voice that almost seemed to vibrate. Or perhaps it made the very air vibrate. Mabel was too unconscious to be able to tell, so kindly forgive her inability to provide input.
The floating figure moved towards the center of the clearing, his eyes glowing a strange shade of blue there wasn’t a name for.
“Why-“ Jeff sputtered, scrambling backwards. The figure was tall (although perhaps that was primarily the fact that he was floating in midair; if not tall, he most certainly appeared to be long), remarkably well-dressed, and quite handsome, his expertly styled, slicked-back hair revealing a strange birthmark on his forehead. His well-tailored dark navy suit was pristine, except for a small, gnome-sized arrow sticking out of his shoulder, and another out of his side.
There was blood splatter on his shoes.
Some dripped into the grass.
“Who are you?” Jeff murmured, horrified. “No, wait… Dipper?” The other gnomes were moving away from Mabel’s unconscious body, crowding fearfully behind Jeff.
A twisted grin split the figure’s -Dipper’s- face.
“In a way,” he said flippantly, a wall of earth rising around the clearing, nearing the treetops. “Not that it’ll matter to you in a moment.”
And then, Dipper inclined his head slightly, barely enough to even be perceived. When he did, however, another one of the gnomes burst like a balloon that had been popped.
He hadn’t had time to scream. The others all screamed, though, covered in his blood. They needn’t have bothered, however, for the next second, another burst, and then another, and another.
It took Jeff several seconds (and several exploded gnomes) to react. “You can take her!” He shouted, distraught, his entire front caked with blood. Much had seeped into his clothes, while some was still dripping off of him. “Please, w- we don’t want any trouble!”
Dipper paid him no mind. He didn’t even appear to be hearing the gnome speak at all.
“Just go, please, you can have her if you just go away!” Jeff was following Dipper around as he floated, frantically trying to convince him to stop.
Except, most of the gnomes were already dead. The remaining few were screaming, running around the edges of the walls, desperately trying to climb them. Some were trying to dig their way out through the walls. Others were simply looking for a soft spot in the earth, seeing if they could push through. One was even trying to find a way underneath. None were successful, of course. The walls were so firmly packed with dirt they were practically airtight. There was simply no getting through, around, under, or over.
“Please!” Jeff called out again, looking around frantically at the others scurrying along the edges of the walls.
With a soft exhale, Dipper made each of the dozen or so remaining gnomes burst simultaneously.
All but Jeff, of course.
“You’re their leader, I take it?” he mused, turning to look down at Jeff with a tilt of his head, his face condescending and furious. “Or you were their leader, I suppose,” he smirked at that. That same horrifying, twisted smirk that had crossed his features before.
Jeff didn’t speak, only backed away shakily.
“Please,” he begged. “I- I’ll never go near her again. I’ll never go near anyone again, if that’s what you want. Take me as a prisoner if you want!”
Dipper didn’t speak for a moment. “You hurt her,” he murmured.
“N- no, I never-“
“Don’t lie.” His voice was a terrifying rumble, and it seemed almost as if the very ground shook. “You hurt her,” he said again, the fury more evident in his tone then. “You touched her. Worse yet, you said… what was it now?” He tapped his chin with a long, slender finger. “Oh, that’s right. You said you wanted to fuck her, didn’t you?”
“I- I didn’t- we didn’t know-“
“I’d have killed you if you’d done even one of those things,” Dipper said. “You tried to claim her as yours. You thought you had that right. No one has that right.” Suddenly, Jeff began to glow, too, and then he was rising into the air, finally looking Dipper directly in the eyes, shining a solid, terrifying blue. There were no irises, no pupils- only the blue glow.
“No one has that right,” Dipper repeated. “No one but me.”
Jeff tried to speak, but he couldn’t. His airway had begun to close, only getting just enough air to keep him alive, if only for a few more seconds. Suddenly, Dipper removed a knife from within his clothes. It shone in the light of the sun setting behind the treetops.
In a rash of silver and the dark blue of Dipper’s sleeve, Jeff’s throat was slit open, only… no blood spilled, his slit throat glowing. Jeff couldn’t move. He was frozen. His blood was still in his body, but for how long?
Dipper lowered himself to the ground, the toes of his feet crunching the grass, followed by his heels. He’d kept the grass surrounding Mabel free of blood. He hadn’t wanted to stain any part of her. Not even her clothes. Sneering at the too-small wedding dress, he sliced through the fabric with the knife. It only had a few droplets of Jeff’s blood on it, after all.
Picking Mabel up gingerly, one arm behind her shoulders and the other beneath her knees, Dipper rose up again so Jeff could see them.
Dipper gently turned Mabel’s face towards him, holding her lower body up with his power as he lifted his hand to touch her face. Cupping her cheek in his hand, he stroked his thumb across her cheek, gazing at her face adoringly with his terrifying, glowing eyes.
“Mabel,” he whispered reverently, smiling blissfully, and it almost looked as if his eyes were welling with tears. “I finally found you. I’ve been looking for you for so long.” He leaned down, brushing his lips over the hair that hung over her forehead so gently it was barely a caress.
Jeff looked on in horror as Dipper raised his eyes back up to him, his arm returning to its place under Mabel’s knees, her head falling against his chest.
“She will never be yours. She is mine,” he said in a fierce whisper, and then blood gushed from Jeff’s neck, splashing into the grass. His lifeless body fell to the ground with a sickening thud, and Dipper clutched Mabel tightly against his body.
Finally. She was finally in his arms again. He’d keep her safe. He’d make her happy. He’d give her everything. Anything.
And she’d love him. She had to. He needed her to.
Closing his eyes in concentration, the vial of water he’d taken from the portal began to glow brightly, a different sort of glow than his eyes, and then they were gone, and the wall of earth collapsed back into the ground as if it had never been there at all.
All that remained were the ripped wedding dress, the splattered blood of the gnomes, and Jeff’s corpse.
#gravity falls#gravity falls fanfiction#gf fanfiction#pinecest#Mabel pines#dipper gleeful#reverse dipper#reverse falls#fanfiction#fanfic#my writing#Mabel’s all-in-one guide to being a shooting star#if you don’t want RD to tie you up and step on you after this then I ain’t doin my job right
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A Little Scare
@forduary week 2 is trust/paranoia, so here’s a little feral!Ford fic.
***
“Grunkle Stan, you promised you’d take us to the grocery store!” Mabel complained.
“Yeah, well that was before I broke my toe tripping over your hot glue gun.”
Stan was sitting in his recliner, both feet up, while Ford applied some sort of special cream to the swollen, blackened toe in question. The kids stood between him and the TV, determined not to let their Grunkle just relax and watch TV until they got what they wanted.
“But I still have another dozen cookies to make for tonight’s human-gnome relations seminar, and we’re all out of eggs and milk!”
“And I’m out of ball-point pens!” Dipper added.
“Look, kids, Ford says I gotta stay off my foot for the next 24 hours if his incredible cure-all is gonna work. Otherwise I’m gonna be in a boot for the rest of the month, and nobody wants that. Why can’t you just ask Soos to take you once tours are done for the day?”
“Because he doesn’t finish until six, and the seminar starts at 6:30!”
“You know, Stan, I could take them.” Ford offered.
Stan gave his brother a skeptical glance. “You sure about that, Poindexter? Remember what happened last time?”
Ford rolled his eyes. “That was last fall! I’ve made a lot of progress keeping my cool in social situations.”
“Yeah, in open-air markets, not a cramped little grocery store.”
“You know what? I’m going to take them, just to prove to you that I can!” Ford huffed.
“Alright, fine. ‘Snot like I can stop you. But take Soos’s truck. There’s no way I’m lettin’ you drive my car.”
“Fine.”
“Yay!” The kids cheered, following Ford into the hall.
Stan caught hold of Dipper’s vest as the boy passed.
“Hey, kid, do me a favor? Just stick close to Ford while you’re at the store, alright?”
Dipper nodded. “Sure thing, Grunkle Stan.”
***
“I don’t see why Stanley is so insistent that I can’t drive his car.” Ford complained as he pulled into the parking lot. “I got us here without incident.”
“Well, you did end up on the curb a handful of times.” Mabel pointed out.
“And narrowly avoided a collision with a car parked on the side of the road.”
“Avoided being the operative word.” Ford insisted. “And don’t try and tell me Stan’s any better.”
“True.” the kids agreed.
The grocery store wasn’t terribly busy, but Gravity Falls wasn’t a big town, so that was to be expected. As soon as they entered, Mabel led them into the dairy section to get her eggs and milk. They were both located in the back corner of the store. Stanford found himself tensing as he walked down a cold aisle filled with different kinds of cheese, butter, cream, milk, and eggs. He couldn’t see the other people in there with them, couldn’t see what they were doing, couldn’t see the exit--
It’s fine. He told himself. It’s just a grocery store. People are just here to get food.
“Welp, I gotta go get some girl stuff.” Mabel declared once she’d loaded her carton of eggs into the grocery cart. “See you guys at the checkout!” She sauntered off to the other end of the store, quickly lost from Ford’s sight among all the displays of soda cans and snack cakes.
“She’ll be ok.” Dipper assured his uncle, slipping his tiny hand into the scientist’s larger one. Ford immediately blushed. Was his discomfort that obvious?
Dipper led Ford to the office supplies, where they grabbed a packet of nice blue ink pens. It really wasn’t that bad, he kept telling himself. Sure, he was tense, he was on high-alert, even higher because Mabel had wandered off on her own, but he could handle it. It would be fine.
It would have been fine, if not for the spill.
They were passing through the frozen aisle when someone behind them pulled out a big bag of frozen peas. Unfortunately, the bag had frozen together with its neighbor, and when one was pulled out, it tried to take the second bag with it, leading to a rip. Two bags full of frozen peas spilled onto the floor, making a cacophony of pinging, tinkling sounds. Tiny ice crystals flew up in the air as the peas shattered. Ford’s hairs stood on end as the cold flecks showered them. As the rapid-fire shattering assaulted his ears.
Suddenly, Ford wasn’t in the grocery store. He was in the ice fields of Raretania 2, with a pack of cryokinetic creatures on his tail. Icicles grew on them like spines, and when they wanted to take down a meal, they could shoot the ice shards like a porcupine on steroids.
The old researcher scooped up his nephew and began frantically searching for a place to hide. Outrunning these things wasn't an option, when they could shoot their icicles with such speed and accuracy. These aisles were barren of any real cover. All they did was hide whatever was on the other side. However, Ford did notice a few feet of space between the top of the freezers and the ceiling. That could work.
He more-or-less threw Dipper up onto the freezers before scaling them himself. A quick survey of the area showed they had lost their pursuers for now. But someone was still in immediate danger.
"Where's your sister!?" Ford hissed quietly to Dipper, who was still sputtering after being thrown up here like a pile of dirty laundry.
"Wh-- probably the cosmetics aisle, I dunno! What's--"
"We need to get to her before they do."
"They who?"
"I don't know if they have an actual name on the planet they're from. I always just called them Iciquills. Suffice to say, they're extremely dangerous, so we need to find Mabel and warn her. Now come on, we can probably jump to the next shelf from here."
Rather than be concerned, Dipper just latched onto his uncle's leg, stopping him from leaping. "Great Uncle Ford, no! You'll just hurt yourself! Or at the very least make a huge mess!"
"That hardly matters in this situation! We need to find Mabel without drawing their attention."
"Mabel's not in danger! We're not in danger! Stop and think! Why would Iciquills be here, at the grocery store? How would Iciquills be at the grocery store?"
Every cell in Ford's body was screaming at him to act before it was too late. But he knew if there was any real danger, Dipper wouldn't just brush it off like this. And when he stopped to think about it, no, it didn't make any logical sense.
"But… but I heard it! The sound of their quills just missing a target! I felt the breaking ice on the backs of my legs!"
"Oh. I guess that was pretty scary, when you put it like that." Dipper grimaced. "But I promise, it was just an accident! Someone dropped their peas. Look!" The boy pointed to the back of his uncle's pant legs. Tiny flecks of thawing peas stuck there.
Ford's heart sank, and his face burned red with embarrassment. He'd come here to prove Stanley wrong, and instead did just the opposite. Now he wanted to hide up here for completely different reasons.
"The longer we stay up here, the more embarrassing it's gonna get." Dipper suggested.
Ford nodded mutely, and swung his legs over the top of the freezer, dropping the last few feet with a light "oof" before helping Dipper down. Luckily, the only person who'd seen the whole debacle was the guy who'd dropped the peas in the first place: Wendy's tall friend, Lee. He seemed to know better than to make a scene, and just waved meekly.
"Dude, I'm so sorry."
"No, no, I'm sorry." Ford reflected.
"Come on, let's see if Mabel's done." Dipper suggested.
They found her in the cosmetics aisle, like Dipper had expected, comparing two brands of lip-balm. She noticed their soured moods almost immediately.
"Is something wrong? What happened?"
"I'll tell you in the car." Dipper assured her. "Let's just buy our stuff and go."
After rushing through the checkout line, they piled back into Soos's truck and headed home. Dipper filled Mabel in on Ford's scare. To the old man's credit, he did his best to laugh it off now that it had passed.
"I'd appreciate it if you two didn't mention that to Stan."
Mabel and Dipper shared a wicked glance. "Well, it's gonna take a lot of chocolate to make us forget that." The colorful girl said.
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