#(hopefully anyway)

[iku-tihku]

Ghostface x reader idea

cw for stalking, mention of murder, for once Ghostface isn't the one doing the stalking

You have a stalker. That much is undeniable. The creepy phonecalls, detailed descriptions of what you'd done during the day, sometimes an odd sound came in from outside during the long nights left you wondering if this'd be the last night you'd sleep in your own bed, and you hoped the sock covered bat would be enough to keep you safe, should they get bold and break in.

Why this Ghostface, as the caller introduced themself as, chose you, you weren't sure, but at the same time it was pointless to wonder, people don't need a reason.

Of course your exhaustion was evident, as well as the fearful glances over your shoulder, wondering if they were somewhere in the crowd. Outside you were a target but at least you weren't alone, surely, should they act, someone would see something, someone would help.

And he? Your dear friend, the monster in disguise?

He wasn't happy with the copycat who'd stolen his look and decided it'd be wise to torment you with it.

Unacceptable, of course, all of it. But what better way to spend his time than to be a knight clad in cloak armor for you?

Slowly the phonecalls stopped. The noises were just animals rummaging through trashcans. And a gory scene in the newspapers, detailing the death of some poor soul found in the woods, brutally murdered and abandoned, though the people's opinion soon changed when it evidence of the stalking spree was uncovered. The people celabrated the death of Ghostface, thinking themself free of the terror, unaware they'd celebrated the death of a cheap knockoff.

And there was something you kept to yourself, told no one of, a letter that had appeared on your doorstep the same day the body was discovered.

"You don't have to worry your pretty little head about them anymore, dollface ;)

~The real deal"

Am I cooking or is it just the lack of sleep

[littlesakis-aubade]

Copycat 🕷️

The feisty little Mimi! I had fun thinking of a pose for her and drawing her dress

[kittynugg]

chapter eight of a little dilemma!! woo!! sorry this one took so long

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62289874/chapters/163171300

<first> <- prev . . . 8 . . . next ->

words: 5,260

p.s: reblogs appreciated, do not tag as ship!!

“David. David.”

Ford hissed, his eyes burning with frustration.

“If you call me or my little shooting star one more time I will find you. I will track you down and teach you exactly why you don’t mess with my goddamn family. Both of us are not in your age demographic and I am very uncomfortable with the way you’ve been speaking to my niece!”

Dipper and Mabel watched with pursed lips as he picked up the phone to pace, pinning the handset (the.. phone-thing) to his ear with his shoulder. “I’ve tolerated this for fifty-seven turns and two hours, and I will not be tolerating this any longer.”

“I HAVE ROOM IN MY BEACH HOUSE FOR TWO.”

“Of course you’d say that at a time like this! I’m going to find Cutie-Town! And when I turn up to that beach house of yours you’ll wish you didn’t have room for two! Your beach house will end up a crime scene, David!” His eyes darted around the room, then he slammed the phone into the receiver.

The last remaining pair of actual twins exchanged a bewildered glance, and Dipper piped up. “You just argued with maybe ten pre-recorded voice lines.” He inched away from Ford slightly. “I think we’re done playing Calling All Boys.” Pushing himself to his feet he moved to take the telephone from his currently seething uncle, then glanced toward the window but decided against whatever plan popped in his head to dispose of it once and for all.

“Okay, next activity..!” Mabel glanced around the blanket fort, then took a clear box of colorful beads from behind her back. Ford chose not to question just how many activities she had hidden behind her back at any given moment. “Friendship bracelets! The ultimate way to seal a bond forever! Other than.. Maybe blood oaths, but that is not a sanctioned sleepover activity!” She swept an arm to the side, expression stern.

“Not a sanctioned sleepover activity,” Ford parroted under his breath. Nail-painting and friendship bracelets seemed to work, though, so.. Any girly, craft-y activity? 

The unnerving part of it was that he wasn’t surprised at all that he got himself roped into this.

Mabel took his hand again, wrapping a piece of string around his remarkably skinny, stick-like wrist and cutting it while leaving a bit of excess at the end. Likely for tying the knot. When she held out the string for him to take, he clasped his hand around it and watched as Dipper allowed her to measure his own wrist with a little smile.

A six-fingered hand reached for the box of beads and plucked out a couple of transparent red ones. He threaded one onto the string, hesitating before picking out four round letter beads. “FORD”, the bracelet now read, and he capped off the text with the other red bead. 

Six beads.

That’d be a very small bracelet. He grabbed two golden beads and bordered the design with them. Eight! Still not enough. It took a few minutes for him to finish, but by then he had a nice combination of greys, browns, and beiges as well as the red and yellow. 

He glanced at Dipper and Mabel, chatting as they worked on their own bracelets (Dipper went for a blue and white color scheme while Mabel went for pink and rainbow), and shifted away from them to let them have their conversation. Instead of talking to his family members he opted to fumble with the string in an attempt to tie it with one hand. 

Agonizing. Truly agonizing. He figured it’d be easier with an extra finger, but now he figured that he was an idiot for figuring such a thing.

“Oh, I got it!” Chirped Mabel as she leaned over to tie it for him and cut off the excess. Ford thanked her in a murmur and received a warm look as a response. Then she turned back to Dipper, nudging his shoulder. “Need me to do yours, Dippin’ dots?”

Dipper extended his right wrist, the one he had the bracelet wrapped around (and was holding together with his free hand), nodding. Ford was more of a “bracelet on the left wrist” kind of person but he wouldn’t judge.

..Out loud. 

“Thanks,” said his nephew as he adjusted the bracelet so the text would face outward. That made Ford realize his was askew, so he meticulously shifted his until it was perfectly centered. 

Then Mabel’s wrist with her bracelet was shoved into his face. “What do you think, Grunkle Ford? I was going for rainbows but I thiiiiiink I got a little sidetracked.” She poked the bracelet where the rainbows derailed into different shades of pink. Like Ford’s and Dipper’s, the letter beads read her name. “..I’m gonna paint the letters pink.”

Of course she was. Delightful. “That’d look nice,” he muttered, tracing his fingers over the beads of his bracelet, “do you need help?”

“Nope!” Mabel beamed at him as if that didn’t just shoot him in the heart. Instead of reacting he did his best to imitate her cheerful expression and made an affirmative noise.

..Well, he guessed he’d just die then or something. Fine. It wasn’t like he wanted to be helpful or anything. Whoop-dee-doo, he’d have a great time just withering here in this corner.. okay he was absolutely being dramatic. He couldn’t help it! Why didn’t Mabel want his help!? Probably because she could do it herself with relative ease and from another person’s perspective it may just seem like a burden asking him to do something they can do just as well.

But regardless– 

“Hey, I wanna paint mine too,” Dipper mumbled, eyes flicking to the left. “Your hands are steadier than mine.” He shifted to take a bottle of blue nail polish from the selection of colors Mabel had and extended it toward Ford.

Keeping the excitement out of his voice as he snatched the bottle was no use. “I can do that!” He opened the bottle, scrunched his nose at the strong chemical smell, and carefully began brushing on the blue paint. He knew it was out of pity. But.. It still felt nice, like he was wanted. “I don’t think I’m ever going to take mine off.” 

Wait, that ran the risk of damaging or, stars forbid, breaking it! No, he’d only wear it in safe situations. What would he do with himself if it got damaged!? Slink back to Mabel and ask her to fix it!? No!

“Me neither. I mean, Mabel would probably kill me if I did anyway.” Dipper rolled his eyes, rubbing the back of his neck with the hand he wasn’t currently trying to keep as still as possible.

Ford understood that, he decided with a cautious glance at Mabel, she absolutely would. He inserted the brush back into the bottle and twisted on the cap. And she looked back at him with this knowing stare. Like it was just a fact.

Then she spoke up, “so, anyway, about Calling All Boys–”

“Nobody wants to talk about Calling All Boys!” Dipper threw out his arms. A look at Ford sought confirmation, but was met with pursed lips and the look of a man in a conundrum.

If he was being frank, he had opinions! Opinions he needed to voice and felt he hadn’t already gotten across the last time David called! So he raised a hand and blatantly said, “David is awful. I hate David and none of them are even objectively dreamy. They all sound unnatural–”

“That’s because they’re text-to-speech.”

“–thank you, Dipper, but they’re just so robotic! How could I love a robot? ..actually, no, that seems like something I would do in some other universe.” He tapped his chin. “Probably only if they pass the Turing test, hm..”

“Really!?” Mabel gawked. “How could anyone possibly not like them ever!? Damien’s a total hunk! And you’ve gotta like William! He’s so your type!”

He shot a dark look at her. "Mabel. If I ever date someone, put glass shards in my Mabel Juice.”

But he wasn’t finished! “And, if I, stars forbid, end up on the arm of a William?” A hand gestured emphatically, then he brought it down in a swift gesture. “Drown me in a river, stick toothpicks in my eyes, remove them entirely and butcher and eat my corpse so I can't come back." He said all of that with a surprisingly unshaking deadpan. 

Because, really, who would date a William? Right, guys? We don’t.. We don’t do the Billford thing here. Don’t @ me on that. 

Mabel stared at him with her jaw dropped and her eyes wide for a moment, then shook her head and gave him a thumbs-up with a forced smile. “You, uh.. You got it, Grunkle Ford! I will totally do that!”

“This is why aliens don’t talk to us,” commented Dipper.

Putting up a finger, Ford supplied, “actually, I’ve asked, it’s because most of us are stupid and frankly animalistic in our.. that’s what you’re saying.” His expression flattened and his shoulders slumped. “That certainly is kind of you.”

“Yeah, man, I know.” He gave this grin that screamed ‘I’m being a little shit on purpose but what are you going to do about it’. Nothing, damnit, the boy had called his bluff that he hadn’t even made.

They all just stared at each other for a moment before Ford raised a finger. “And another thing, aren’t some of those.. Flirtations a little less than appropriate for children of our- your age? You’re.. Well.. little. And impressionable.” With a squint to accentuate it he pinched his fingers together in a small gesture. 

Dipper glanced to the phone, then shrugged. “I mean, didn’t seem too bad to me. You guys had worse stuff when you were kids, I made the mistake of looking into it.” 

Maybe a few of the things they’d chant while jump-roping weren’t appropriate either.. No, no, he doubled down.

“This isn’t Disney, Dipper.”

“That’s–” instead of arguing, Dipper shook his head. “You know what, no. Hey, Mabel, what’s next on the list?” 

Mabel rolled with it as usual. “Movies, duh! You sound like you’ve never had a sleepover!” A raspberry was blown at both of them as she whirled to her feet. “TO THE LIVING ROOM!!”

And to the living room they went.

“More sappy Disney movies?” Asked his nephew as he jumped onto the couch and snatched the remote, sticking his tongue out at Mabel when she pouted at him. “You’d probably like Lilo & Stitch. It’s got that found family element. And the whole supernatural thing going on.”

Supernatural, hm? That was his.. It was his thing really. Basically half of his personality as troubling as that was. He joined Dipper on the couch and flinched when Mabel jumped onto the cushion beside him. “..Well, I have no reason not to trust your judgement after last night’s recommendation..” 

“Ooh, that’s a good idea!” Mabel clapped her hands to her cheeks. “Then we can watch Steven Universe! Grunkle Ford, you’ve heard of Steven Universe, right?”

“..who is Steven and why does he get his own universe?”

This girl gasped. She almost fell off the couch, frantically reaching for the remote in Dipper’s hand. But of course he was having none of it and leaned back to kick at her arm. “Oh my gosh, Dipper! Lilo & Stitch can wait!”

“So can Steven Universe!” He reasoned in a shout. “Give it up!”

“You give it up!”

“No, you!”

“You!”

“You you you a thousand, million times!” Mabel tumbled back with a yelp as Dipper released the remote, then she eyed her prize with a look of pure triumph behind her sparkling eyes. “..no take-backs!” 

Dipper just leaned back with a sigh and crossed arms. “You’re like a gremlin. Or the candy monster.”

Resisting the urge to ask, Ford instead remained silent and watched Mabel navigate to whatever show she wanted them to watch as he pondered what the “candy monster” entailed. A monster made of candy? A monster who eats candy? Both were equally likely. 

What if it was a monster made by candy? Sentient candy? Like some sort of Frankenstein’s monst-

“Okay, so we’re gonna waaaaatch.. One episode first! And then we can watch Lilo & Stitch because I really wanna watch it now and then we can watch more Steven Universe!” Planned Mabel out loud, her eyes darting to Ford. “..If you like it!”

“I have no doubts that I’ll like it, honey.” He reached over to ruffle her hair. “You both have good taste.”

They both gave their respective mutters that the other sibling actually had bad taste, and they settled down to watch.

Lilo & Stitch was good. Very good. But he did not cry a single tear at the ending. Absolutely not.

Steven Universe? It.. certainly built intrigue what with the first episode hitting you with such bizarre abilities as the child, who is named Steven but does not have his own universe, is able to produce a shield from his.. Belly button? Which was a large gemstone? 

Not to mention the kids swearing up and down that the animation gets better later in the show and imploring him to not be deterred by how freakishly big Garnet’s hair was. 

Really. You could fit maybe nine of her heads just in her hair. Count it in the early episodes, that isn’t a joke.

He’d humor them.

He stood up and stretched out his legs, reflexively rising to his toes with the motion for a split second, and glanced back at the kids. “What do you two think about saving the rest of the show for later? I had quite the metabolism as a child, I could use a snack.” An empty, burning sensation in his stomach made itself known. “..or three, hm.”

Eat his weight in leftover mac n’ cheese. Yes. His thoughts on the mad scientist slander in Lilo & Stitch could wait. As a mad scientist himself, though, he’d have to speak out about it eventually.

Jumba was not a criminal, he was a brilliant mind and misunderstood. And he’d fight someone over that opinion.

“Snacks are the most important part of a sleepover,” Mabel blew such a loud raspberry that it peppered Ford’s face with spit, much to his horror, “of course we’re gonna have snacks!”

Ford shakily extended a hand toward the tissue box on the coffee table behind him, and Dipper passed it to him so he could aggressively scrub the germs from his face. When he finished he took a trembling breath and nodded. “Right, yes.” He murmured. “Let’s go and get some, then.” As he moved to step toward the kitchen, a hand grabbed the back of his sweater and tugged him back.

“In the attic, silly! C’mon!” Mabel snickered at him, then once again dragged him toward the stairs. Scruffed like a cat this time.

The door was loudly kicked open, Mabel dragging her stumbling uncle inside and Dipper boredly following with his hands in his pockets. She dove into the blanket fort again. “I have so many snacks!” announced the girl proudly when Ford crawled in himself. He just wanted mac n’ cheese.

“Let’s seeeee.. Chips?” She held up a bag of plain chips.

Ford shook his head. “Too salty.” 

“Okayokayokay. Candy corn?”

He considered it for a moment. Candy corn was good, but Halloween had just passed and he’d practically survived on it for a few days so he wasn’t too keen on it. “Too last month.”

Mabel’s eyes narrowed. “Blasphemy..” she whispered, glaring at Ford as she dug through her snack pile.

“It’s a seasonal treat, hun.” He waved a hand. “And don’t even consider anything minty.”

“Not even those chewy mints they put on pillows?” A red bag filled with the things was practically shoved in his face.

His eyes sparkled. “They sell those to regular people!?” 

“Yeah!” Conspiracy crossed her expression as she glanced around, then nudged Dipper’s elbow “If you know where to look..”

Dipper rolled his eyes, laughing softly. “They’re in the very back corner of the section in the grocery store with all the ice cream. On one of those rack things they always put in the middle of aisles to manipulate people into buying random junk?”

Ford nodded slowly, his chin resting on his hand. Stars, he could have just bought them? This whole time? But him and Stan fought over those things when they went to hotels as kids! It got so bad that their mother had to go to the front desk and ask for more! Since when could he just purchase them!?

“I am.. To say the least, offended that you’ve kept this from me for so long.” He pinched the wrapper of one of the candies until the mint was forced out of the other side and tossed it into his mouth, then flopped backward. “I am sixty-four years old, and I just learned that.”

“Come on, it’s not that devastating.”

“Let me eat my emotions, Dipper.” The mint crunched loudly under his teeth, and before it was even gone he grabbed another.

A weary sigh escaped Dipper and he slowly shook his head. “Aaaaand he’s chain-eating them. Can I at least have some?”

Ford gave a muttered, “oh, yes, of course,” and extended the bag toward Dipper and Mabel. Dipper took one while Mabel scooped out a handful.

“Doo-doo-doo, saving it for later..” she murmured as she tucked them beneath the fold of her sweater collar, leaving a few to eat now. Impressive makeshift pocket. 

When she finished storing the extras like a chipmunk she shoved the rest into her mouth, wrappers and all.

The awful part was that Ford didn’t even blink. He'd watched her do that (and told her not to) dozens, maybe hundreds of times by then. “You shouldn't eat plastic, sweetie,” uttered him halfheartedly.

“It’s fine, I’ve been eating glitter since I was, like, two!” The statement made Ford’s brows raise in surprise. Didn’t her parents think to teach her not to– he was suddenly even happier that him and Stan had custody. Wow.

Instead of commenting further he quietly lamented about her poor digestive system and popped another mint. 

Within minutes, the bag was empty and they’d dipped into both the candy corn and the pretzels.

“Okay, now that we’ve had snacks..” Pure mischief colored Mabel’s expression as she stood up (partially anyway, the ceiling of the fort wasn’t that high) and shuffled out of the fort. Scampering footsteps rang out around the fort, then the sound of.. Wheels?

“Oh, no.” Dipper whispered. “It’s the karaoke machine.” He was halfway through pushing himself to his feet before Mabel dragged the machine inside.

With a excited yell of, “KARAOKE!!” Mabel removed the microphone from the side of the machine and tossed it in her hand. “I downloaded a million new songs, who wants to go first?”

“I did not consent to this.” Ford stated with a slightly raised hand.

His nephew groaned and slapped a palm to his face. “You agreed to the sleepover. It’s implied to her.”

“That is not how it w–” he cut himself off with a yell as the microphone hit him in the face and Mabel gave a frantic “sorry!” Adjusting his glasses, he ignored the stinging from the frame being shoved into the bridge of his nose at what must have been mach five and put on an amused face to cover up the pain. “It’s okay, it’s okay, I hardly even felt it.”

Yes the hell he did, but that was fine.

He figured he’d just bite the bullet and suffer through the karaoke so Dipper wouldn’t have to. Singing was fun, anyway, he was just afraid to hear what this voice would sound like belting TiK ToK. Why was it capitalized like that? Was it because it was by Kesha? 

Personally, Ford wouldn’t use improper capitalization like that just because his first name started with an F. That would give his highschool English teacher heart palpitations. And him. 

“Okay, so, we’ve got..” Mabel scrolled through the different songs. “Every Chappell Roan song!” When Ford quickly shook his head she nodded, then continued. “How about Bonnie & Clyde?”

“Which one?”

“The K-Pop one.”

“No.”

“I think you’d like Language of the Lost!” Eh.. he shook his head again. He wasn’t in the mood for it. “Got it, got it.. Ooh, what about Highway to..” she glanced around, her voice lowering to a whisper. “Heck?”

Ford perked up. “Highway to Hell!? I didn’t know you kids knew that song!” Against his will his free hand excitedly flapped, and the one holding the microphone shook it back and forth. 

“I mean, it was in Megamind. A lot of older kids have at least heard it.” Dipper reasoned with an amused smirk that Ford was sure had nothing to do with his stimming. “So, that one, then?”

“..yes, that one.” He folded his arm behind his back, holding the microphone near his face with the other as Mabel started up the music with an eager squeak.

“Go for it, Grunkle Ford!” She cheered with two thumbs up.

Grinning, Ford nodded lightly nodded his head to the beat of the opening instrumental.

Just as he took a breath to start singing, he was met with the biggest disappointment of his life as the door slammed open with Stan on the other side.

“Who the he- the heck listens to AC/DC at two in the morning!?” He barked, actively picking the crust from one of his eyes. 

He was met with three shocked looks, not unlike the ones Dipper and Mabel had given Ford yesterday when they reduced their own cooking to ashes. 

“It’s.. two?” Ford whispered, his eyes flicking around the room for a clock but returning unenlightened, and he cleared his throat and tugged down his sweater sleeves. “I’ll just go to the basement, then–”

Stan stepped in front of him before he could do that. “Nope. Bed. You and the kids.”

Him and the kids? That separated him from the group known as “the kids,” making him not a kid. He appreciated that.

That aside, he was not going to bed. 

“I am not going to bed.” He grumbled as his niblings begrudgingly went to grab their pajamas. “You’re my brother, my younger brother at that. You don’t tell me what to do.”

With a roll of his eyes, Stan crossed his arms. Ford unconsciously mirrored the pose. “I do right now, you told me to make you go to bed if it starts gettin’ bad again.”

“I did not,” he hissed, because he would never give Stan authority over him! That was just spitting on his prestige as the older twin! Fifteen minutes, that was nine hundred seconds and each one coun–

“Stanley, I hereby authorize you to take any actions necessary to ensure that I receive at least most of the proper rest I require to function. I mean that. Really. I think I’ll die if I pull this many all-nighters again,” crackled Ford’s older voice on an audio recorder in Stan’s hand.

Ford just stared at him with puffed up cheeks and narrowed eyes for a moment before he realized, “you just.. Constantly carry that around?”

“That’s none of your business.” 

“He’s gotten me with that twelve times,” complained Dipper as he took from his drawer a white shirt with blue hems, a blue pine tree in the middle. Also known as: the exact same shirt he was currently wearing.

So the family was a bit sentimental about their zodiac symbols. People blindly followed those unscientific “star signs” all the time. How does the day of your birth dictate your personality!? A- Anyway, Stan put the tape recorder away and patted Ford on the head. “You said any actions and I have made chloroform before.” He threatened in spite of the way Ford reflexively stood on his toes to press the top of his head into his hand.

He knew Stan wouldn’t actually drug him. That would be awful. But as Mabel rolled out a sleeping bag for him in a nice corner of the blanket fort he figured he’d just relent. Just this once. “If you’re willing to go to such drastic measures, I’ll just have to comply.” He rolled his eyes. “Go back to sleep, I’ll make sure the kids don’t stay up.”

“Sure, you will.” Stan muttered flatly, placing his hands on his hips. “I’m holding you to that. Anyway, night, you three. Don’t let Bill bite or whatever.” He snorted and turned to leave. Dipper and Mabel followed, likely to brush their teeth, giving their respective goodnights.

“Night, Grunkle Stan!!” Mabel’s was accompanied with a hug that almost knocked Stan over.

“G’night, Stan,” and Dipper’s matched the energy of someone actually tired enough to go to bed.

If he was going to sleep, he’d might as well allow himself a modicum of comfort. Pajamas, then!

His adult clothes absolutely wouldn’t fit him. That complicated things quite a bit. With a finger moving to tap his chin and a drawn out, thoughtful hum, his eyes surveyed the room. Mabel’s clothes were out of the question. He wasn’t looking to have someone walk in on him putting on a skirt. 

Something manlier at least, like.. Shorts. Yes.

Actually, no, he’d rather it not happen at all. But now that the thought had been put in his head he felt like it was going to happen. He scampered over to lock the door just in case. Then he closed the window. 

Then he breathed a sigh of relief, recalling vividly that he’d sealed up all the cracks in the roof.

..Did he? Maybe he missed a spot. Oh, stars, this was horrible. Awful. Being alone in a room with his own thoughts. Nightmarish. It almost felt like–

His eyes landed on Dipper’s dresser and his mind shut up for just a moment. He was just about the same size as him, maybe a bit smaller but Dipper had not hit any sort of growth spurt, surely he could fit something of his.

Digging through the drawers (not without sorting the clothes because they were thrown in there haphazardly) proved fruitful as he took out a pair of red athletic shorts. They were made from a cool, breathable material, and best of all he’d never seen Dipper wear them in his life so he was sure he wouldn’t miss them.

Paranoia of being watched be damned. He put on the shorts. 

“Hm, comfortable,” he observed under his breath, looking down at the loose garment. A little big on him. That was an easy fix, he tightened the drawstring. There was something nice about wearing something other than long pants. His legs felt.. Freer. 

Next, he pulled the sweater off and folded it, setting it on Dipper’s bed as he folded his pants. Then he placed the outfit neatly on top of his dresser and worked to put away everything he’d taken out.

Socks and undergarments went in the top drawer. Tops in the drawer below it. Bottoms in the bottom drawer. All arranged from shortest to longest left to right.

The way it was supposed to be. Dipper’s system was wrong. 

When he’d closed the final drawer, placed his bracelet on top with a clatter and remembered to unlock the attic door, he settled into his sleeping bag. It was soft and immediately warm from his body heat. So, so warm. 

Just as he felt his eyes start to close he jolted back into reality with flailing limbs at the door slamming open.

“GRUNKLE FORD!!” Shrieked none other than Mabel the banshee, Dipper trailing behind her as she ran into the room. “You are not going to believe what I just found!” She did have her arms behind her back. This was usually a bad sign.

He tiredly rubbed his eye, then loosely gestured for her to continue.

“So I was looking around the basement while Dipper was brushing his teeth–”

“Because she’s a creep,” Dipper interjected.

“–and I found the cutest little guy!” With the sweetest little grin, she revealed the object from behind her back.

A beat-up lamb plushie with one button for an eye.

An old friend. 

On what must have been pure instinct he reached out and took the plushie from her, staring blankly at it. He remembered having the little thing through thick and thin in his childhood. Even after he let Pa kick Stan out. 

It wasn’t the same after that, really. It was never the same. But at least he had something to hold when he cried.

Of course, he didn’t cry anymore, no, he didn’t need a silly plush to manage his emotions. 

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t take it while he could, though. 

“What’s their name?” Mabel asked, crouching to inspect the plush as he hugged it to his chest.

He had to think about that one. Really think. And.. Nothing cropped up in his mind. Names he would give it, but not an actual confirmed name. “I.. don’t recall.” Shifting onto his side made for better hugging. 

That was how some childhood memories worked, he supposed. You remember the feeling, the meaning more than the details. But his body remembered exactly how he’d cuddle the ratty old lamb and reacted accordingly.

If he- it didn’t have a name, Ford figured he should give it one. “..um.. How about Lambert?” With his eyes half-open and his brain only half-functional it sounded like a wonderful name. 

“You mean like the German nam-”

“THAT’S SO CUTE!” His ears stung with the sheer volume of Mabel’s words, and he may have clutched the plushie a bit tighter but who was to say really.

..”Lambert” it was, then. If only the decision was less painful.

“Okay, well,” he ducked his head into the sleeping bag and looked out at the kids. “I’m going to bed. As long as you two are quiet and don’t do any.. Stupid sleepover pranks while I’m asleep, Stan doesn’t have to know however long you stay up.” A wink hopefully got his point across, and he took his glasses off to toss out of his cocoon. “..if one of you could set those somewhere they won’t get stepped on,” he requested under his breath.

Dipper gave a muttered affirmative and picked up the glasses, then Ford heard them being placed somewhere.

“We're just going to bed, right?” He asked, looking over at Mabel.

Mabel gave an enthusiastic nod. “Yeah, the most important part of a sleepover is sleeping!” She face planted into her bed, shimmying under her purple covers, and glanced at Dipper. “..You get the light.”

“Aw, what? I was just about to get into bed.” His arms spread out slightly, hands gesticulating.

“I did it first, though!” she replied cheekily.

A huffed, “fine,” drenched in the little anger he could manage to harbor toward his sister, and he walked over to the light switch on the wall by the door. It was a nice upgrade from the lantern.

With a click that Ford had engineered to be as crisp and satisfying as possible and was not disappointed by, the room was plunged into darkness.

“Good night, Mabel. And Grunkle Ford,” muttered Dipper as he settled into bed.

“Night, Dipper! Night, Grunkle Ford!”

“nhnhnhwhatevergoodnight.” Ford yawned deeply into Lambert’s matted fur.

A couple of giggles from the kids later the room was silent, and Ford went to sleep.

---author's note of sorts---

OKAY SO YOU MAY HAVE SEEN THAT BILLF*RD COMMENT HI DONT HURT ME okay so that is a joke. mostly meant to clarify that i dont ship it and that there will be NO in-fic mentions of it that aren't poking fun and to deter any ship tags. so uh. dont write me angry letters i can dislike what i want and tumblr kind of has a problem with harassing people over ships tmk so im just putting it out there right away that im not taking shit for it BE NICE GUYS

but if you're not here to tell me to go fuck myself then hey i literally could not care less!!! hope you enjoyed the fic!! :] /silly

[dorothylilac]

Sovereign Sirenoid

(Evolution)

[randalthorstits]

Reading comprehension i miss u pls come back to the people

[cinnabariclan]

ermine, bud, breeze, are you guys excited about becoming apprentices (even without any adults to actually mentor you)? what do you guys think your full names will be? :D

[craft-my-world]

Alright, current project time. My grandmother-in-law gifted me these pieces of a teddy bear pattern her mother used to make, so I'm trying to fill in the bits of the pattern that are missing.

That meant, a trip to the fiber arts discord I'm part of to ask for help. Which lead to this from one of the hand sewing folks:

And now, I have this as an attempt to pull it all together:

Going to cut it apart and see if I can't make a bear out of it

[thelikesofus]

Today I will write. I will. I promise.

[clandestine-crayons]

Silly stamp for my website... dooon't even worry about it 👍🎉

[alienstagetransparents]

ahaaaa… guess who’s back..??

i’m so sorry for leaving so suddenly, i had a lot on my plate with school and my mental health, and i was kind of losing interest in alien stage… so i decided to take a break, but i’m probably going to be back again! i promise i’ll try to upload a bunch of transparents before potentially leaving again… — 🤍

[plussign92]

one of these days i swear i’ll start posting frequently again

[bennythespaceman1984]

My Benny headcanons!

(please note that I have many more, but that's why asks are open!!)

- He has autism! But he doesn't like telling people. Whether or not the crew knows kind of depends, but most often they would not.

- He is very crafty! He loves building and inventing and is always working on something new.

- Benny struggles with insomnia and night terrors, so he is usually up day and night! He has a seemingly endless supply of energy, but that may just be caffeine.

- In having autism, he has a lot of sensory issues! He only eats certain foods and is uncomfortable taking off his helmet, as it is a comfort item to him.

- He does not have hypoxia, and he is not insane. If other characters wish to believe this— that is fine.

- His home is a MESS ! It doesn't matter where you are in the timeline, he likely has zero counter space.

- Benny loves retro technology! It is a secondary interest to him, and he loves collecting old gadgets. He still uses an old computer regularly, watches vhs films, and listens to music on a cassette deck. (Big fan of old cameras right now)

- He was born in 1984! I like to think that he just ages as time goes on, so that would make him 40!

- His right arm had to be amputated during tlm2. He never got an arm back of course, they just got him a better prosthetic!

- Benny can float as he pleases, and no one really knows why. He has difficulty staying in one place and struggles to ground himself at times.

- He fidgets a LOT! He has made himself all kinds of weird fidget gadgets, some looking more complex than others.

[sl33py-g4m3r]

throwing a question out into the void~~ cause idk~~ could look some stuff up about it and might later, but I'm tired and want to go to bed.

how do you cook without eggs?

like make custards or cakes or other things without eggs?

I guess it depends on "what" I need that particular egg substitute to do; like binding, or leavening or something and find a fitting sub...

last time I tried to bake without eggs I forgot what it was but I think it ended kinda bad~~ and wasn't good~~

trying to stay vegetarian and eat dairy, but cut out eggs from everywhere, as I'm out of them at home~~

my intention is to eventually get all of my lacto vegetarian stuff ate (hot cocoa, nutella, pasta side things, ice cream, cheese that I shouldn't have picked up)... and eventually go vegan when I run out of those things.

so~~ how was any of your alls transitions to a vegan diet? how did you learn how to bake and make "egg heavy" recipes without them?

I can already sub out dairy pretty easily; and like a lot of non dairy milks~~ I've been using them for a couple years now~~

griping a bit again~~ that vegan chocolate spreads are more expensive for less than the store brand hazlenut spread, which is twice as much~~

why is specialty stuff so expensive??? T_T;;

[sheofthebookandsong]

Not me spending months working on this story and announcing how excited I was about it on my Tumblr…and then forgetting to actually post the AO3 link when I posted it 👀👀

Anyway, the first two chapters of my angsty new canon-compliant (and sapphic) fic are up now, if anyone would like to have a look! Welcome to The Silence of Sisters ♥️♥️

[calamitoustide]

said i was okay with the change of plans tonight and after a bit my friend texted me "is it really okay or are you lying" she knows me too well i fear

[slipknots]

the watchlist for today is insidious chapter 2 and jeepers creepers 2