#Piedmont Fair Grounds

[iamjosiahmovie]

Advertising & Sponsorship Packages are available, but time is running out.

August 2nd and 3rd

Contact: Pro Rodeo Spartanburg Committee

Eugene Fowler, Chairman: 864.415.9281

Crystal Barnett, Marketing/ Graphic Design: 864.982.9127

Email: spartanburgrodeo@gmail.com

[incomingalbatross]

Sharing this in a noncommittal fashion by posting it here instead of giving it the official AO3 treatment: 1200-word reunion of the Mystery Twins and their parents at the Piedmont bus stop! Featuring happiness, hugs, and "Mabel? Where did that pig come from?"

“Dipper! Dipper Dipper Dipper.” Mabel was shaking him awake. “We’re home!”

He blinked, looked around, and then jerked upright as he saw the familiar sign outside the window. Piedmont. Sidewalks and trees and buildings that he hadn’t seen in three months were all around, as familiar as his own clothes.

He’d almost forgotten home.

Mabel gave a high-pitched, squealing gasp beside him, and he looked over to see her staring toward the front of the bus. Her hands were clasped over her mouth. “Omigosh. They’re HERE!”

He followed her gaze to the bus stop shelter…and the two people standing beside it, holding hands and watching the bus door.

Mom and Dad.

Mabel jumped off the seat, dragging him after her by the hand. “Come on, Waddles! Come on! We’re home!”

“Mabel, the luggage!” he protested, hanging back. “We need our stuff!”

She swerved back, and they dropped each other’s hands so they could each grab their suitcase. Then they were hurrying down the aisle again, Waddles hot on their heels.

“Thank you, Bus Driver Man,” Mabel remembered to chirp. “Sorry my grunkles threatened you!”

The man nodded. “Water under the bridge,” he said, tipping his hat to both of them. Dipper nodded back.

And then they were off the bus, and Mabel was shrieking, “Mommy! Daddy!” as she hurled herself forward.

Dad - exuberant, grounded, somehow always ready to smile - caught her and swept her up in his arms. “Princess!” he cheered, holding her tight. “Princess Mabel has returned to her kingdom!”

Dipper ran to Mom - their mom, gentle and brilliant and steady - and crashed into her, arms wrapping around her waist as she held him close. “Hi, Mom,” he muttered into her stomach.

“Hey there, little Dipper,” she said back, squeezing him. He leaned back to look at her smile. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too,” he answered. It was funny, how he only realized how true that was now he could see her again.

They let go and looked over to the other two, just in time for Dad to pull Dipper into a hug as Mabel went to Mom.

“There’s my favorite guy!” Dad laughed, arms around Dipper and a hand cupping his head. “You have a good summer?”

Dipper laughed, squeezing tight before letting go. “The best,” he answered honestly, smiling at his Dad. “But it’s really good to be home.”

---

Mabel was home, home, home, and she’d gotten a Dad Hug and she was getting a Mom Hug and the world was amazing, how could she have ever wanted to freeze it? She already knew she’d been crazy but it seemed double crazy now that she was here, remembering what she would’ve missed by staying in her bubble.

“You okay, honey?” Mom murmured in her ear.

Mabel sniffled. “Yeah,” she said, burying her face in Mom’s shoulder for a second. “Just - Gravity Falls was amazing but home is too and I missed you!”

“Missed you too, ” Mom laughed, running a hand through her hair. “Come on, let’s get you guys home, okay?”

“Actually, I’ve got a question,” Dad said, sounding amused. Mabel looked over to see him raising an eyebrow at her. “Am I seeing things, or do we have a totally mysterious pig on our hands?”

Oop.

Mabel’s eyes flickered over to Waddles, and then to Mom. Who was also raising an eyebrow at her.

“Mabel…”

“You don’t know he’s my pig!” she pointed out, squirming. “He could be Dipper’s! Or an unrelated pig!”

Dipper, the traitor, snorted.

Mom just hummed a little and waited.

“Okay,” Mabel confessed. She couldn’t pretend Waddles wasn’t her baby, anyway. That would be unfair to him! She sprinted over and hugged him around the neck to make up for it, turning her biggest, saddest eyes on Mom and Dad. “But look at him! His name is Waddles and he’s perfect and I won him at a fair months ago and you can’t separate us now! I’m all he has in the world!” And she’d said that as a pitch, but it was kinda true, and what was she gonna do if Mom and Dad wouldn’t let her keep him? What would Waddles do without her?

Just as she started tearing up, she felt a familiar hand on her shoulder. “That, and Grunkle Stan said we had to take him with us when we left,” her brother said wryly. She looked up, and he grinned down at her for a second before looking up again. “He really isn’t that much trouble as a pet,” he continued earnestly. “Mabel’s got him trained, and…they have bonded.” He trailed off, biting his lip imploringly.

She took back calling him a traitor. Best brother ever.

“…He’s really not that much trouble?” Mom asked skeptically.

“He ISN’T!” Mabel hugged him tighter. “He’s housebroken and he always listens to me and he’s so so sweet!” She tilted Waddle’s face toward them, squishing his pudgy cheeks. “Look how adorable he is!”

Waddles, being the smartest pig in the whole world, gave his politest oink.

“I wish you’d called ahead and asked,” Mom said gently, which wasn’t a no but still made Mabel feel bad.

Dipper said, “We really were planning to leave him in Gravity Falls. Stan changed his mind at the bus stop, basically.” Which skipped over, like, a few things about how Stan wouldn’t have been the one keeping him for long anyway, and how he was really really obviously lying about wanting to get rid of Waddles, but…Mabel had figured she couldn’t bring Waddles home. So she guessed the important part was true.

“I mean,” Dad said, “I had a frog when I was a kid. Nobody planned for me to bring him home, either.”

“A frog isn’t exactly the same as a pig,” Mom said, but she was smiling as her eyes went from Dad, to Mabel, to Waddles. “You’re sure you can take care of him, Mabel?”

Mabel inhaled, hope lighting up in heart. “Yes!” she shouted. “Yes yes yes! I promise I can!”

“Well, then…” Mom knelt down and held a hand out to Waddles. “Welcome to the family, I guess.”

Waddles tilted his head at her (adorably), and then licked the hand.

Dad knelt down too, petting him on the head. “Nice to meet you, lil’ guy.” He looked up at Mabel. “What’s his name again?”

Mabel’s cheeks were hurting from how much she was smiling. “Waddles,” she said happily. “‘Cause he waddles!”

“That’s a great name.” Dad stood up. “Well, I think now we can go home. Unless you’re hiding any birds or anything in that new hat, son o’ mine.”

Dipper laughed, hand reaching up to touch the earflap on Wendy’s hat. “Nope, Mabel’s got a monopoly on new pets, don’t worry.”

“I like the new hat, by the way,” Mom said, taking the handle of Mabel’s luggage. “But what happened to your old one? Is it lost?”

Dipper smiled to himself, and Mabel wondered if he was thinking about his pine-tree hat or the old star one. “Yeah, but it’s okay,” he said. “It’s…somewhere in the woods.”

And Mabel grinned, grabbing Dad’s hand and jumping as they walked toward the car. Hello, old blue minivan! Dipper was next to her and Waddles was on her heels and Mom and Dad were right here.

And, somewhere out there in the woods, just waiting for them…Gravity Falls was still there too.

[noisynutcrusade]

Tension at the Salone, disputed by Roccella. The blitz of "Extinction Rebellion" and "Non una di meno". And the minister attacks Lagioia

TURIN. Protest by the activists of Extinction Rebellion, feminists of Non una di Meno, EssenNon committee, at the Piedmont Arena of the Book Fair where the minister of Equal Opportunities Eugenia Maria Roccella presents her book “A radical family”. The demonstrators, about thirty, lay down on the ground shouting «shame! Shame», «I decide on my body, but which State, but which God». The minister…

[queenofcats17]

The Ink Demonth 13

Today is Trust

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

There was no one Bertram trusted at his company more than Lacie. She was his second in command. He trusted her input both in matters of business and mechanics above all others, and there were some attractions of his that only Lacie was allowed to work on.

Lacie returned this trust in kind, trusting that Bertram would have her back in times of trouble and put the safety of her and his workers first.

It hadn’t always been this way, of course.

When Bertram had first transitioned from architecture to theme parks, he had still been unlearning quite a lot of the things his parents had taught him growing up. One of these things being his father’s stances on race, gender, and class. As such, his first meeting with Lacie had been…less than ideal.

Although he was actively trying to unlearn these things, his first instinct upon seeing Lacie when she entered his office for her interview was disdain. She had three strikes against her, going by his father’s logic. And although he tried to banish these feelings, he was sure the momentary disdain showed on his face upon seeing her.

“Would you rather I leave, Mr. Piedmont?” Her words were polite and her tone was calm and even, but he could feel the venom that hid behind that calm.

Bertram awkwardly cleared his throat. “No,” he replied. “Please sit down, Miss Benton. Let us begin the interview.”

Lacie didn’t look entirely convinced, but she sat down anyway and they began the interview. She was more than qualified for the position of engineer, so he had naturally hired her. He had wanted to compliment her qualifications, but had thought better of it. It seemed inappropriate to go out of his way to try and ingratiate himself to her.

Earning her trust turned out to be a long process, which he had expected to a certain extent after his disastrous first impression. Their interactions were overly polite, with both of them only ever exchanging words for work. Lacie made no effort to interact with him unless he absolutely had to. Bertram had to keep reminding himself that she had every reason to be wary and distrustful of him. It was his responsibility to prove he was worthy of her trust. Actions spoke louder than words, after all.

He made sure to pay all of his employees a fair wage, made sure they would be compensated and protected in the event of an injury, made sure they would be protected from being taken advantage of. If a contractor or client disrespected his workers, he would defend said workers. And if the client tried to take advantage of the workers, the client was promptly dropped. It certainly hurt him in the early days, but Bertram was determined. This was not a principle that he would budge on. He would be a better man than his father.

Lacie took note of these actions, her opinion of him slowly beginning to change.

Still, it was a good many years before she trusted him enough to be open with him. She had to make sure that this wasn’t just a one-off thing for him, that he wouldn’t abandon these practices once his business got off the ground. But he seemed genuine and determined to keep to these practices.

He was so genuine it was almost embarrassing.

So, she started to talk to him a bit more, saying hello when she saw him or remarking on books she was reading. Bertram’s visible excitement at her slowly opening up was even more adorable. He started to ask for her opinion on designs more after that, taking her thoughts into account when constructing the attractions.

It took another year after her beginning to open up before she began to think of him as a friend.

It was at that point that she started to actually spend time with him when it wasn’t necessary for work. They began to share their feelings and thoughts with each other. Lacie felt safe expressing her concerns to Bertram without fear of repercussions. Some of the things she had to say were hard to hear, but Bertram tried to take them to heart.

From then on, Lacie was Bertram’s second in command. Not everyone was pleased with this, but Bertram left no room for argument. This was the person he had chosen to put his trust in, and if they didn't like it they didn't have to stay.

[welcometoitalia]

Italians and Food - The North

The first thing to be understood is that northern Italy differs in an enormous way from southern Italy in terms of culinary distinction.

The North is filled with a great variety of dishes and outside influences. Visitors to Trieste will be offered Hungarian goulash as the local food, in Venice it will be Austrian pastries filled with Oriental spices, in Turin peasant-style dishes are served with sophisticated French sauces. If you want the best risotto, go to the Veneto and Piedmont; for pasta, Emilia; for rice and polenta, Lombardy. Sauerkraut and dumplings in alpine Trentino-Alto Adige, delicious vegetable-based cuisine in Liguria. 

A typical meal for North Italians will mostly be made up of regional foods. They might eat pasta from Bologna, salad from Cremona, pizza from Pavia, eggs from Vicenza, veal and milk from Lombardy, basil from Liguria, flour from the Po Valley, Parmesan from Parma, and sugar and peaches from Ferrara. It is said that the further South you go, the better the gelato gets, but it is also true that the further north you are, the better the café. Turin, Trieste, Venice, Milan, and Padua have grand historic cafés of great warmth and elegance. 

When the mists close in on Venice, comfort food suitable for sustaining people is required - thick soup or creamy risotto is popular. But the cuisine here can be very sophisticated, too, serving dishes such as risotto with shrimps, or carpaccio (wafer-thin raw beef with olive oil, rocket & parmesan). For seafood, soft shell crabs from Murano, plump red mullet, and pasta with lobster. As well as being a rice-growing region, the Veneto is Italy's main area for poultry, from chicken and goose to guinea fowl and duck. Offal, spicy black pudding, horsemeat, and capretto (kid) are also local delicacies, matched by whole-wheat spaghetti (bigoli), subtle cheeses, and honey.

Austrian influence prevails in Trentino/Alto Adige. Typical dishes include smoked meats such as Speck, sauerkraut, roast venison with polenta, red cabbage and goulash, and other filling stews. Dumplings are preferred to pasta, known as Canederli in Italian and Knoedel in German. A famous dish is Strangolapreti – gnocchi made of potato, bread, or spinach, coated with butter and cheese. Desserts are Austrian-inspired pastries like Apfelstrudel, a pie stuffed with apples, nuts, and raisins, or Sachertorte (a special chocolate cake). 

Gorgonzola, the blue-veined cheese, originated in the foothills of the Alps near Milan. It's ideally served runny or as a sauce for pasta, polenta, or risotto. 

Liguria is ideal for growing tomatoes, artichokes, peaches, apricots, and lemons. There is little meat and dairy production here, but a large array of fruit and vegetables are grown. Famous Pesto Sauce is from Liguria, made from basil, olives, and pine nuts or walnuts, ground with garlic and Parmesan. According to purists, it should only be made when basil is in flower. Liguria also produces the only olive oil to rival the finest Tuscan varieties. 

Valpolicella, Soave, Barolo, and Barberesco are some of Italy's best wines, all from the North. The Veneto, covering the area from Venice to Lake Garda, is a significant wine producing region and plays host to VinItaly in Verona, Italy's largest wine fair. Prosecco, Bardolino, Valpolicella, and Soave are all from this region, as well as the famous firewater known as Grappa. Franciacorta is from Lombardy. Pinot Grigot and Riesling Italicoare from the Collio district of Friuli, Lambrusco from Emilia Romagna.

[teatimewithhiddles]

Red High Heels, part 2

I've decided to continue the story. I have a few more plot bunnies hopping around for this that I'm hoping to get out.

@kinghiddlestonanddixon - here you go!

Greg spun Charlie around so she wasn't facing the kitchen and grabbed her ass. He nuzzled her neck as Tom and Chris walked out of the kitchen with whiskey and the ice bucket to put on the table. "Greg! We're in public! Stop!" she giggled, pushing playfully at his shoulder.

"He can't magic a knife like Loki, right?" Greg murmured in her ear. "If so, I won't be alive much longer. He's even hotter when pissed, huh?"

"Its the jawline" she sighed.

~*~

"Evans, where's the restroom? I need a minute before I head over there" Tom grumbled as he glanced over at them.

Chris' jaw was scraping the ground. "So, this whole situation is a new development but the bathroom is down the hall, third door on the left. I'm going to get intel" he stated as he walked over and Tom left. "So...Merry Christmas. What's all this?" he asked, leaning in to buss Charlie's cheek.

Charlie reached up and grabbed his ear. "Christopher Robert Evans, what in the actual fuck is wrong with you?!" she hissed as she slapped his chest with her other hand, accentuating every word. "How DARE you spring this on me?! Do you really think I wouldn't care?! That I'd just go along with it?! No! I'm over here, scheming with the boys and making Greg pretend to be my boyfriend for the night. Also, you get no toffee and that better be the good whiskey" she rushed out, grabbing it out of his hand and tossing it back. "Another!"

"Ow woman! What, are you Thor all of a sudden?" Chris laughed.

"A-noth-er Christopher and keep them coming. I'm going to need them. Fuck fuck fuck, here he comes."

"Charlotte, darling. Stunning as ever" Tom smiled as he walked over, leaning in for a hug.

She stiffened in his arms. "My name is Charlie."

"You always rather enjoyed when I called you Charlotte..." he stated, raising an eyebrow.

"You lost that right when you threw me away like an empty container, TOMMY" she sneered.

"My name's Greg Piedmont, by the way. Charlie's boyfriend and you are?" Greg butted in, hand extended.

"Tom Hiddleston. Friend of Chris' and Charlotte...er Charlie's ex."

"Oh the British guy who thought Charlie wasn't important enough. Thanks for that. I moved home recently and was glad to see she was available. She was always one of my favorite people and she's gotten even more beautiful over the years."

"It wasn't that I didn't think that she wasn't important enough. I was extremely busy with work and didn't want her to not get any attention from me. It wouldn't have been fair."

"But it was FAIR to not even ask ME what I wanted? There are two people in a relationship last I heard. You ripped my heart out and threw it in the Thames. I cried the entire way home from London. When I woke up in the middle of the Atlantic, you know what was on? Fucking Avengers! I woke up to that fucking smirk staring me in the face. All I heard was murmuring about "the crazy American in aisle twenty" the rest of the flight."

"Charlie, I never meant..." Tom started.

"Just stop. I don't want to hear it. I've moved on. It hurt like a son of a bitch but I moved on. I'm going to try to be civil but it still hurts to look at you. I loved you and you didn't care enough to try to work it out. C'est la vie, right?" she shrugged and grabbed the new tumbler of whiskey from Chris. "Christopher, you owe me a very large bottle of this for Christmas."

"Yes, ma'am" he nodded.

"Do NOT ma'am me right now, Cap. I need to go outside and have a few minutes to myself" Charlie stated, grabbing a random coat off the back peg and heading out the door.

"She took my coat" Tom stated. "Evans, I need your coat. I'm going out after her."

"No, you're not. I know where she's going. Same place she always did when she needed a minute. I'll go out in a few. She needs to literally and figuratively cool off."

"But it's my fault..."

"Fault belongs to both of us. I should have given her the heads up. I forgot how hard she slaps" Chris chuckled, rubbing at his chest. "I'm going to have bruises. Is my ear still red?"

"Yup!" Greg laughed. "Glad I'm on her good side. So Tom, how long do you plan on being in town? I own a bar, the Dirty Captain. I'll buy you a drink."

"The Dirty Captain?" Tom snorted, eyeballing Chris. "Please tell me it had something to do with this one."

"It does! He's a silent partner so I had to acknowledge him somehow. Charlie even did a painting of Cap being spanked by Bucky's cybernetic arm hanging in my office. It's there mainly to make him blush when he comes in" Greg grinned.

"Oh I definitely need to see that. I'll be here into the new year so I'll have to pop in."

"There's a drag night every Thursday. You should come in and the two of you should perform!" Greg grinned.

Tom laughed and stroked his beard. "Pretty sure this wouldn't work with drag makeup. Maybe if I'm clean shaven next time I visit. Doesn't mean Chris can't though" he grinned.

"And on that note, I'm off to check on Charlie" he laughed and ducked outside. He walked outside to the sound of sobs drifting down from their old treehouse. "Charlie. Come down. I'm sorry."

"Leave me be. Please?" she asked through a strangled sob.

"I'm coming up" Chris sighed. "Charlie, honey, I'm so sorry. I should have said something so you could have prepared yourself."

She looked up from the notebooks she had found in the trunk, with red watery eyes. "I found my journals from my teen years. I was supposed to be madly in love with a British lit professor living in London by this point. I got close" she choked out as Chris pulled her into his arms.

"You still love him, don't you?"

"I never stopped. God, seeing him is like picking at a wound that was never properly healed in the first place. And then he called me Charlotte. He KNOWS he was the only one I ever let call me that. Why is he even here? Doesn't he want to spend Christmas with his family?"

"His sisters were doing something with their families this year and his Mom wanted to see the grandbabies. As much as he loves everyone he couldn't bear to see the kids. He was hoping the two of you would be well on your way to having some by this time this year."

"What are you talking about? We had talked about it before but I'm just old fashioned enough that I wanted to be married first."

"He was going to propose the last time you were together. I helped him pick out the ring at an antique shop near set. He chickened out and broke it off instead."

"Why would you tell me these things?? It only makes it worse!"

"You had a right to know. Now c'mon. Dry your eyes. When I left, your "boyfriend" was trying to convince Tom that he and I should perform at drag night and Scott was almost peeing his pants. Do you really think he'll fall for Greg being your boyfriend? He's here until after New Year's, you know."

"Fuck. Well, I'll see how long we can pull it off. It's not like I'll be seeing him every day anyway."

[elegantshapeshifter]

I just want to drop a few ideas for future posts: the devil, Grimoires and witchcraft, flying ointment, practical historical spells, tools in reconstructionist witchcraft Thanks for being there and inspiring my craft :)

.:: Grimoires, the Devil, the Flying Ointment and Tools in Reconstructionist Traditional Witchcraft ::.

1.) Ok, so, let’s start from the Grimoires:I think we have to do a distinguish here between Protestant majority Countries and Catholic majority Countries. Catholic majority Countries had a less grade of alphabetization because they didn’t have the impulse, given by Luther, to translate the bible into the popular language and to use popular language for the mass (in Catholic countries the mass was celebrated until not so long ago in latin, and people didn’t understand anything of it).For example, in Italy, still in 1861 there were the 78% of analphabets, with the 91% in Sardinia and 90% in Calabria and Sicily (while Piedmont and Lombardy - the North - had 57% and 60%).This is directly connected to the possibility to read these grimoires and to have a more or less grade of distinction between high (ceremonial) magic and low (popular) magic. Moreover, there was a gender difference in alphabetization, therefore males were more alphabetized than females.So we can say that in Catholic majority countries there was less possibility to use grimoires by lower class people, especially by women, who were usually the demographics that represented the majority of witches; this is because they didn’t know how to read them, so we find less the use of ceremonial tools like athames, circles, etc. and more popular charms, “segnature” (I don’t know how this translates, in Italian they are movements of the thumb associated with charms, used to remove certain illnesses), etc.However sometimes people used symbols without knowing what they meant.People did something similar even for Christian prayers: in latin, used by Catholic mass until recently, the Lord’s Prayer has a part which says “dona nobis hodie”. People understood this as “donna Bisodia” (”woman/lady Bisodia”), and they though that she was a real person, and constructed an history of this character. They said that she was a very pious woman and that for her purity she was inserted inside of the prayer! People even used to say to more inclined to sin persons: “Ah, you are certainly not like Donna Bisodia!”.So this kind of interpretation was the most likely to be happened in Catholic majority Countries when lower class people who didn’t know how to read met grimoires (when they could because they were forbidden and expensive). In Protestant majority Countries, the lines were more blurred between folk magic and ceremonial magic.However, as I said before, Witchcraft and folk magic didn’t were the same thing. The majority of witches were also folk magicians, but the majority of folk magicians were definitely not witches: the majority of folk magicians were Christians. Therefore only a certain percent of folk magicians internalized the legends about the group of female spirits with the Domina Nocturna who went from house to house to eat and drink food and beverage offerings given for them by inhabitants of the house; only a certain percent of them believed to go with this cortège or with the Procession of the Dead; only a certain percent of them believed to go to the Sabbath (an evolution of the cortège from house to house); and an even more little percent emulated the Sabbath in physical reality.However, even in Grimoires we find a version of the cortège from house to house, even if it’s more Christianized than the ones that we usually find attested in popular culture, folklore and witch trials, where the Domina Nocturna was more a Goddess-like character (here the Dominae Nocturnae seem more a group of simple spirits). I quote from here: http://alexander-cummins.squarespace.com/blog/2016/11/9/the-rain-will-make-a-door-ii-how-to-see-spirits“To have Conference with the fairies In the House where those use when you intend to work be the last up. The night before the new or full of the Moon Then sweep the Hearth very clean And set a bucket of fair water on the Hearth so go to bed. And be you the first that shall come down the next Morning And you shall see as it were a fat or Jelly upon the water. Take it forth with a Silver Spoon and put it into A Silver or Tin vessel and so keep it And when you will work the night before the new or full of the Moon, If there be a Table in the Room Set a new Bowl full of new Ale upon the board And iii [3] new white cloths with iii [3] new knives with white hafts. This done make a fair fire of sweet cloven wood Then sit in a Chair with your face towards the fire Then take your foresaid stuff forth and anoint your Eyes therewith And sit silent And see all the house be quiet and at rest And when you have sitten so a while you shall see iii [3] women come in, But say nothing but nod your head at them as you shall see them do to you And they will go to the Table and eat and drink, when they have done let the first pass And the second But the third you may take and ask what you will of her. Probat. Gauntlet, p. 288-289 There are many obvious lunar themes present in this operation. Silver is the traditional metal of the Moon. The timings are by starts and ends of the lunar cycle. The Moon rules the phlegmatic humour, characterised with the coldness and moisture of elemental Water, which was considered to encourage imaginative reflection, feminine introversion, and both hopeful and fearful fixation upon the past and future. The ‘fat or jelly’ one cultivates and collects is a particularly phlegmatic substance, to be generated atop a ‘bucket of fair water’. This emphasis on fairness and cleanliness is also observable in the prevalence of white objects such as cloths, a colouring both lunar and ‘virginal’. This operation certainly has a very different take from typical ceremonial magic on the uses of white-handled knives! This working also foregrounds the importance of the hearth, the heart of a house; while also emphasising ambient stillness of the ‘quiet and at rest’ of the power of the wee small hours. The object of this experiment in full is to receive a ring of invisibility from one of the fairy ladies. We find the likely source of Gauntlet’s operation in Reginald Scot’s Discoverie of Witchcraft: This is the way to go invisible by these three Sisters of Fairies. In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. First go to a fair Parlor or Chamber, and an even ground, and in no loft, and from people nine dayes, for it is the better: and let all thy cloathing be clean and sweet. Then make a Candle of Virgin Wax, and light it, and make a fair fire of Charcoles in a fair place, in the middle of the Parlour or Chamber. Then take fair clean water, that runneth against the East, and set it upon the fire: and if thou washest thy self, say these words, going about the fire three times, holding the Candle in thy right hand † Panthon † Craton † Muriton † Bisecognaton † Siston † Diaton † Maton † Tetragrammaton † Agla † Agarion † Tegra † Pentessaron † Tendicata † Then rehearse these names † Sorthie † Sorthia † Sorthios † Milia † Achilia † Sibylia † In Nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti, Amen. I conjure you three sisters of Fairies, Milia, Achilia, Sibylia; by the Father, by the Son, and by the Holy Ghost, and by their vertues and powers, and by the most merciful and living God, that will command his Angel to blow the trump at the day of Judgment; and he shall say, Come, come, come to judgment; and by all Angels, Archangels, Thrones, Dominations, Principates, Potestates, Virtutes, Cherubim and Seraphim, and by their vertues and powers; I conjure you thre sisters, by the vertue of all the royal words aforesaid: I charge you that you do appear before me visibly, in form and shape of fair women, in white vestures, and to bring with you to me, the Ring of Invisibility, by the which I may go invisible at mine own will and pleasure, and that in all hours and minutes: In Nomine Patris, & Filii, & Spiritus Sancti, Amen. Being appeared, say this bond following. O blessed Virgins † Milia † Achilia † I conjure you in the Name of the Father, in the Name of the Son, and the Name of the Holy Ghost, and by their vertues I charge you to depart from me in peace for a time. And Sibylia I conjure thee, by the vertue of our Lord Jesus Christ, and by the vertue of his flesh and precious blood, that he took of our blessed Lady the Virgin, and by all holy company in Heaven, I charge thee Sibylia, by all the vertues aforesaid, that thou be obedient unto me, in the Name of God; that when, and what time and place I shall call thee by this foresaid Conjuration written in this Book, look thou be ready to come unto me, at all hours and minutes, and to bring unto me the Ring of Invisibility, whereby I may go invisible at my will and pleasure, and that at all hours and minutes; Fiat, fiat, Amen. And if they come not at the first night, then do the same the second night, and so the third night, until they do come: for doubtless they will come, and lie thou in thy bed, in the same Parlor or Chamber; And lay thy right hand out of the bed, and look thou have a fair silken Kercher bound about thy head, and be not afraid, they will do thee no harm: For there will come before thee three fair women, and all in white cloathing, and one of them will put a Ring upon thy finger, wherewith thou shalt go invisible. Then with speed bind them with the bond aforesaid. When thou hast this Ring on thy finger, look in a Glass, and thou shalt not see thy self. And when thou wilt go invisible, put it on thy finger, the same finger that they did put it on, and every new {Moon} renew it again: For after the first time thou shalt ever have it, and ever begin this work in the new of the {Moon} and in the hour of {Jupiter} and the {Cancer}, {Sagittarius}, and {Pisces}. Reginald Scot, Discovery of Witchcraft (London, 1584: 1665), p. 247-48 Finally, these two operations are particularly worthy of comparison with another very similar working from an edition of the Grimoire of Honorius, ‘To make three ladies or three gentlemen come to your room after supper.’ (Honorius, p. 188) Not only is the operation very similar to the working in Gauntlet, it provides key details missing from the former experiment: the visitors eat ‘three loaves of bread made out of wheat’. It also specifies more preparation for the chamber in which the working will be performed: ‘you will clean and prepare your room from the morning, doing everything while fasting. And you will make it so that no one spoil the room for the rest of the day and you will make sure that nothing is hanging or hung up around the bed, such as tapestries, cloths, hats, bird cages, curtains etc, and above all, place white sheets on your bed.’ Once again, the importance of clean white cloth is highlighted. There is also a potential for this Honorian operation to have dream incubation dimensions. One is instructed to ‘place a chair or an armchair next to your bed, then go to bed and say the following words’ – one does not sit in the chair, but leaves one by one’s bed before retiring. Moreover, immediately following the specified incantation we jump to ‘when the three persons have come, they will sit near the fire, drinking, eating, and they will thank the person, man or woman, who has received them’. No specifications are made as to whether they arrive while the operator is waking or dreaming. It is worth noting in passing that the text explicitly mentions men and women performing this working, with the gender of the operator determining the kind of visitors – ‘if it is a lady who did this ceremony, there will come three gentlemen; and if it is a man, there will come three ladies.’”

In fact, in the Complete Grimoire of Pope Honorius ( https://www.scribd.com/doc/300116379/The-Complete-Grimoire-of-Pope-Honorius-nodrm ), we can read:

“To make three ladies or three gentlemen come to your room after supper.   Preparation  You should go for three days without extracting any mercury[403] and you will retire upstairs. On the fourth day, as soon as you have dressed, you will clean and prepare your room from the morning [onwards], doing everything whilst fasting. And you will make it so that no one will spoil the room for the rest of the day and you will make sure that nothing is hanging or hung up around the bed, such as tapestries, cloths, hats, bird cages, curtains etc. and above all, place white sheets on your bed. (49)   Ceremony  At the end of supper, retire secretly to your room, prepared as above. Make a roaring fire; place a white cloth on the table and three chairs around it, and in front of each seat, three loaves of bread made out of wheat and three glasses full of clear, fresh water. Then place a chair or an armchair next to your bed, then go to bed and say the following words: Conjuration   “ Besticirum consolation veni ad me vertu Creon, Creon, Creon, cantor laudem omnipotentis et non commentur. Star superior carta bient laudem omviestra principiem da montem et inimicos meos ô prostantis vobis et mihi dantes quo passium fieri sui cisibilis. ”[404]  When the three persons have come, they will sit near the fire, drinking, eating, and then they will thank the person, man or woman, who has received them: for (50) if it is a lady who did this ceremony, there will come three gentlemen; and if it is a man, there will come three ladies. These three persons will draw lots between them to determine which one of them will stay with you. That person will sit down in the armchair or the chair that you will have intended for them near your bed and they[405] will stay and chat with you until midnight. And at that hour, that person will go with the other companions, without the need for sending that person away. As far as the two others are concerned, they will stand by the fire while the other will engage you in conversation and while that person is with you, you may interrogate them about any art or any science or anything that you wish and that person will give a positive response on the spot. You may also ask them, if they know of any hidden treasure and they will inform you of the place, the location and the convenient time to retrieve it, even if it is amongst their companions, in order to defend yourself against infernal Spirits, who (51) may be in possession of it and in taking their leave of you, they will give you a ring, which will give you luck in games when it is worn on your finger. And if you place it on the finger of a woman or girl, you will enjoy the use of her on the spot.  Note, that you must leave the window open, so that she can enter. You may repeat this same ceremony as often as you wish.”

From here we find more details:https://www.grimoire.org/spell/three-ladies-or-gentlemen

“How to cause the appearance of three ladies or gentlemen in ones room after supper (Spell) Alternate names: To make Three young Ladies, or rather three Spirits come into your room after Dinner

In The Book of Oberon, this spell is listed as "Experiment of Invisibility” and the summoner is given a ring of invisibility.

In Grimorium Verum (Recounted in “The Book of Ceremonial Magic” By A.E. Waite):

1. Preparation Abstain for three days from the hidden offices, and then shall your spirit be fortified. On the fourth day, you shall cleanse and prepare your chamber as soon as it is morning, immediately after dressing, the whole fasting. But see you do it in such a way that it will not be liable to disarrangement during the remainder of the day. Note that there must be no hangings, nor anything set crosswise, no tapestries, no hanging clothes, hats, bird-cages, bed curtains, &c. Above all, let the appointments be clean in every respect.

2. Ceremony

After supper pass in secret to your chamber, made ready as above; kindle a good fire; place a white cloth on the table, round which set three chairs, and before each chair, upon the table, let there be a wheaten roll and a glass full of fresh clear water. Lastly, draw up a chair and settee to the side of the bed and retire to rest, uttering the following

CONJURATION

Besticitum consolatio, veni ad me vertat Creon, Creon, Creon, cantor laudem omnipotentis et non commentur. Stat superior carta bient laudem omviestra principiem da montem et inimicos meos ô prostantis vobis et mihi dantes que passium fieri sincisibus.

The three persons, having arrived, will rest themselves near the fire, drinking, eating and finally thanking him or her who has entertained them; for if it be a young lady who performs this ceremony, three gentlemen will come; but if it be a man, three young ladies will appear. The said three persons will draw lots among each other to know which of them shall remain with you. If a man be the operator, she who wins will place herself in the arm-chair which you have set by the bed, and she will remain and commune with you until midnight, at which hour she will depart with her companions, without any need of dismissal. As regards the two others, they will keep themselves by the fire, while the other entertains you. So long as she remains you may question her upon any art or science, or upon what subject soever, and she will immediately give you a positive answer. You may also inquire of her whether she is aware of any hidden treasure, and she will instruct you as to its locality and the precise time suited to its removal. She will even appear there with her companions to defend you against the assaults of the Infernal Spirits who may have it in their possession. At parting, she will present you with a ring, which, worn on the finger, will render you lucky at play, while if it be placed upon the finger of any woman or girl, you shall there and then have your will with them. Observe, however, that you must leave your window open in order that they may enter.

The Grand Grimoire version is very similar.

The grimoires  The Book of Oberon Grimorium Verum The Grand Grimoire  lists this spell.”

Finally, Dan Harms (https://danharms.wordpress.com/2015/11/06/on-the-three-ladies-at-the-table/) connects this ritual with one, connected to the Dominae, described in “Le jeu de la Feuillee”:

“Many readers will be familiar with the famous ritual in the Grimorium Verum (Peterson or Stratton-Kent editions) to call three spiritual ladies or gentlemen to a table to gain their favor.   A similar ritual appears in the Book of Oberon, as well as in Sloane MS. 3853, and we have several other rituals among the literature of ritual magic that are along the same lines.  Those who are interested in other such examples might check out my article in The Faerie Queens anthology from Avalonia. Enough links to books!  I’ve made a discovery, via Katherine Briggs’ Anatomy of Puck, of another piece with a similar procedure that predates most ritual magic by centuries.  In the mid-thirteen century, Adam de la Halle, a playwright of Arras, composed a comedy entitled Le jeu de la Feuillee.  It consists of a number of short vignettes surrounding life in the French city – including a visit by three supernatural ladies. We have very little setup for their appearance, but it would appear that Adam – a character in the play as well as the playwright – and his friend Rikeche have put a table out for the fairies.  Although they are not present, others watch from the sidelines as three women – Morgan, Arsile, and Maglore – appear and take up their seats at the table.  All of them are enchanted by the preparations, save for Maglore, who notices that her knife at the table is missing.  The other two fairies engage her in some playful jesting, but Maglore will have none of it.  The sisters next talk of how the two should be rewarded.  Morgan and Arsile grant Rikeche success at business and riches, and give Adam happiness, fame in love, and a reputation as a poet.  Maglore, still put out, grants Rikeche baldness and condemns Adam to spend his time with his wife instead of running away to Paris.  The whole matter rapidly descends into farce from here. What is particularly interesting here is one detail from earlier in the poem:  a description of the back of Adam’s wife, “Ke manche d’ivoire entailles / A ches coutiaus a demoisele,” which the editor translates as “Sculpted like the ivory handle / Of those knives for noble maidens.”  He then draws a parallel between this phrase and the knives on the table of Morgan and the others.  It bears noting that some manuscripts, including Sloane 3853 and e.Mus 173, specify that white-handled knives should appear on the table to which the three mysterious women are called.”

2.) The Devil

When we talk about the Devil in Witchcraft we have the tendency to see him from a British perspective. In this way, the Devil is the God of the Witches, while the Fairy Queen is the Goddess of the Witches. However, this is true only in British Islands, because here the Fairy King was demonized and became the Devil, as Emma Wilby demonstrated in her two books “Cunning Folk and Familiar Spirits” and “The Visions of Isobel Gowdie”.

However, despite what Brexiteers say, Europe is not only Great Britain!While in Great Britain the Major Spirits were mainly two, a couple of Monarchs of the Fairy Realm, male and female, in the rest of the Continent it was not so.In the rest of the Continent every other Country and even every region of these Countries had its own Major Spirit, which was not always a couple: sometimes they were both male and female, but the majority of times the Major Spirit was a female spirit and a minority of times a male spirit. Let’s take for example Italy: here we find, in different regions, different Major Spirits. We find Richella in Val di Fassa (Trentino), but also Berta in other parts of the same region, we find Madonna Horiente in Milan, the Lady of the Game/Lady of the Good Game in many regions of the North of Italy, we find Herodias and Diana in Tuscany, we find Herodias alone in Rome, we find the Apenninic Sybil in Umbria, we find the King and Queen of Fairies in Sicily, and so on. As we can see, only in one region there was a divine couple. Other regions had very different Spirits as chief of the Cortège of the Dominae Nocturnae, and the majority of them were female.However, if we read the trials, we see that more time passes during the persecution, more the Lady of the Game becomes the Devil.

So the Devil doesn’t necessarily is the Horned God. Sometimes the Devil is, like in Great Britain, a mask for a male God, such as the King of Fairies, sometimes like in Italy and in Basque Countries (where Akerbeltz, the black goat, is a symbol of Mari, a Basque Goddess), it’s a mask for a female Goddess, other times again (the majority of times), it’s just a reflection of the accusations and the belief of the inquisitors or the judges.

In fact we can say what the Devil really is, in a Country, only by looking back at before the demonization. If the trial starts with the person who talks about the Fairy King and at the end of the trial they admit to have gone with the Devil, the Devil was masking this character.If the trial starts with the person which talks about being innocent and at the end of the trial they admit to have gone with the Devil, this person is innocent and never worshiped the Devil and the Devil is just a delusion of inquisitors or judges.Moreover, if we see the Christendom attitude towards Witchcraft, we can distinguish the first phase, after the Canon Episcopi (906 CE), in which the sin was not the act of going with these Pagan spirits, but to believe that these visions were true. After the Malleus Maleficarum (1487), instead, Christianity changed the sin: the sin was not anymore to believe in the visions of the Pagan spirits, but to having gone with these Pagan spirits.So, while in the first phase Christendom used to report exact beliefs in order to eradicate them, in the second phase they used to distort these beliefs because they were just “delusions of the Devil”, therefore while before priests tended to say: “People, if you dream about going forth in the night with Diana, don’t believe in these visions, to believe in them is a sin!”, after they said: “Don’t lie, it wasn’t Diana, it was the Devil!”.So they just stopped caring about what people thought, in the second phase they started imposing their view that it was the Devil and not other entities, silencing the real names of the Gods/Major Spirits.

So we cannot trust the name of the Devil in trials, because trials happened in the second phase, we can trust trials just when they distort the initial character (such as the Fairy King in Great Britain) into the Devil, but we cannot trust trials when they talk about the Devil without connecting it with any previous character, because it maybe just a reflection of the hysteria of judges and inquisitors.

3.) Flying Ointment

First thing: I think that in order to use and make ointments, you have to be a professional herbalist. Please, before using any ointment you see online, check if the maker is a qualified herbalist, and please, don’t make an ointment at your home just reading a book. To be a professional herbalist you have to go to an university for years, you take a degree for that, you cannot improvise.

Said this, historically, there are two positions about Flying Ointment: the ointment as a symbol and the ointment as a reality.I don’t know which one is true, maybe the truth is in the middle as usual.

Éva Pócs supports the symbolic position. I quote from her book “Between the Living and the Dead: A Perspective on Seers and Witches in Early Modern Age”:

“The subject of flying ointment occasionally came up in Hungarian interrogations; nonetheless, it played no real role in precipitating trance. In our trials no evidence underpins the assumption of some European research that witches, including the Hungarian witches, made journeys with the help of drugs. […] References to flying ointment are generally traceable only in responses given to questions of the court and even then principally in confessions following torture. Flying ointment appears in the narratives as a metaphor for creating trance, in the context of flying with wings - that is, “really” flying - or in the legendary motif of turning into an animal. In Hódmezővásárhely, Maria Olah confessed under torture, “if we wish to be dogs, we become dogs … we were in the images of cats, we smeared [ourselves] with certain ointment … and climbed through the window” (1758, in Schram 1970, 1:341).”

Thomas Hatsis, however, in his book “The Witches’ Ointment”, support the opposite theory. We can read, in fact:

“The ointments come from the medical drugs outlined by Alonso Tostado and Abraham of Worms, found in various contemporary medical texts; they are not necessarily a part of the general belief in night flight but were nonetheless used by some people as an element in psyche-magical rites; some, perhaps, might have even been used entheogenically. The act of rubbing them on chairs, brooms, and so forth, most probably belongs to some obscure folk tradition associated with the Germanic goddess Frigg. Diana’s association with the devil probably stretches back to folk beliefs about female fertility and good fortune deities. The worship of the devil comes down to us from ancient stereotypes about heretics. Finally, the pact with the devil comes from the realm of high magic. To summarize: At the dawn of the witch stereotype, first conceived by theologians in the 1430s in a merging maelstrom of magical lore, heretical stereotypes, and folk notions, the ointments finally enter the ecclesiastical record alongside the new definition of the witch. Subsequent writers would weave these folk ointments tightly into the demonological fabric as a way to explain how all these so-called witches could fly to their Sabbats.“

So, according to Hatsis, the ointment was used by witches only after this new definition, that connected witches to devil worshipers, with the Malleus Maleficarum, but it wasn’t used by witches described by Canon Episcopi, who went in spirit with dreams and other techniques.

Moreover, he says in his videos why and how these ointments were real techniques and not just symbols, let’s see for example:

https://youtu.be/AAE6jrrNU3U

However, in most trials ointments appears to be done with “children fat” or things like that, which is not something entheogenic, nor definitely acceptable for today standards. In fact, even Hatsis admits that “we have reason to believe that sometimes people really did seek out the flesh of dead infants for their magical efficacies”. This evidence could support the symbolic position, because even if somebody used real flesh of real dead kids, the only way in which this would have worked, it would have been by mixing this anointment with dreams or other trance techniques.

We know, in fact, that there were formulas to use with the Ointment, so it’s possible that trance was in reality achieved through constant repetition, like it happens with eastern mantras.

So, resuming, I think that:- ointments are not the safest practice;- there is a debate about their use as real practices and not just as symbols in history;- if you want to use them because you believe in the realistic position about ointments in history, it’s important to be a professional herbalist to make them.

4.) The Tools in Reconstructionist Witchcraft

In order to understand the tools, we have to understand the practices. The practices are:

1) The Offerings 2) The Flight3) The Physical Gathering4) Magic and Divination1) The Offerings are towards:- The Patron Major Spirit, with the Table of Offerings;- The Animal Familiar;- The Ancestors;- The Plant Familiar;- Fairies/Spirits of Nature;- Household Spirit/Fairy2) The Flight:- To the Cortège of the Dominae Nocturnae;- To the Wild Hunt/Procession of the Dead;- To the Sabbath “in somniis”;- To the Night Battles;- To the Otherworld / Sybil’s Paradise / Elphame3) The Physical Gathering:- The Sabbath “corporaliter”;- The physical Cortège of the Dominae Nocturnae / the physical Procession of the Wild Hunt

So, as we can understand, the tools for the offerings are:

- A broom: for the cleaning and ordering before the offerings;

- A table or an altar: for the Major Spirit it’s better to use the kitchen table, however another table/altar is useful too. Here we’ll let offerings of food and drink.

- A table cloth, napkins, glasses, cutlery, plates, a chair, etc. for the table: because Major Spirits need to symbolically sit down and eat for the offerings of food and drink.

- Candles and incense: to honor the Major Spirit after we’ll have put in order the food offerings, to please them.

- One or two offering bowls where we’ll pour milk, bread and a drop of blood everyday for our Animal Familiar, or for the Household Spirit (but in this case without the blood) or for the Fairies (but in this case to pour it outside).

- A shelf or a shrine for our Ancestors, with a cloth, a photograph of them, flowers, offering candles or tealights, a match or lighter.

The tools of the Flight are, instead, considering that the main trance techniques are Hydromancy, Repetition of preyers or charms, Music (usually with a drum), Dance, Monotonous Focus and Dreams:

- A candle, a lighter/match and a bowl of water for the hydromancy;

- A drum for music and/or dance trance techniques;

- A grimoire (or a notebook) and a pen for dreams and visions.

The tools of the Sabbath are, considering that the Sabbath is composed by the bowing in front of the Domina Nocturna or the Patron Major Spirit, temporarilyincarnated by the Witches’ Queen chosen randomly between the witches; the discussions and advices about the spells performed; offerings of candles to the Domina; the banquet; dance and music; ritual sex (after having asked with trance techniques or divination if it’s ok for the Spirit).

- A representative candle or statue or image if the ritual is done by solitaries and so there is no Witches’ Queen or King;

- Offering candles;

- A table (or altar),table cloth, napkins, glasses, cutlery, plates, a chair, etc. for the banquet;

- A musical instrument (for example, a drum or a flute).

The tools of the Cortège are the same of the Sabbath’s because what changes is only that the Sabbath is in a single place while the Cortège is done in the house of a practitioner, and the members of the Company but the one who owns the house in which the ritual is done will impersonate the Spirits who will come in, will be welcomed by the owner, they will eat, drink, dance and bless with a wand all the house by touching all the rooms and the persons in it. The sex, in the case of the Cortège, will not be performed.So the only tool which is exclusive of the Cortège is:

- The wand.

For magic and divination, the tools change with the ritual you use, and there is a high variation from Country to Country and from region to region.

[lifeat1337carlton]

You know I never really was a fan of sticking things in people's doors.

Because when people are home and you open the door the item falls on the floor as if it's trash.

Again if you actually care you're going to take the time to actually take and put a small piece of tape and actually tape it on the door.

You're going to say that you care enough about the resident to not have to make them been down and have to pick up something off of the floor.

But then again we're talking about Piedmont housing alliance where they really don't care about their residents. Even without really looking at the newsletter yet you can see that it's main focus on the front is about when they're not going to be working.

Instead of what they're going to be doing for the residents.

And keep in mind you have a fair amount of older residents and you have a fair amount of disabled residents.

And for some of them bending down and picking something up off the ground can be very difficult.

In addition when you put something high in the door and somebody opens it and they get the impression something is coming at them or falling towards them again use a damn piece of tape.

Stop being lazy.

And of course there is one more thing if you're having staff put notices on doors or newsletters on doors make sure they know which apartment is occupied and which apartments are vacant.

Because once again if you work in the office you know which apartments are vacant and you know where somebody is living.

[seiya234]

It started with a bag of potato chips.

Namely, a bag of artisanal potato chips Mom had gotten for them (for Mabel) (for them) at the farmer’s market that week. They were pickle flavored, made their entire room reek of dill, and came in a handmade paper bag. Before the Transcendence (before he had died) (no) Dipper usually let Mabel have the potato chips in favor of the soft pretzels Mom bought at the market for him and Dad.

But Mom had forgotten the pretzels (forgotten that he was still there) (no, just forgot that he could still eat), leaving only the potato chips.

No one had summoned him all day and he and Mabel had quickly realized that it was…. best that he not follow her to school. He could have gone to the Mindscape, could have danced in the dreams of a thousand sleepers, gone from Pisa to New Delhi to Nome just because-

The chips haunted him. As soon as he realized he couldn’t have them he wanted them more than anything else on the planet. It was dumb-part of Dipper knew this-to obsess over freaking potato chips. Perhaps it was his new nature, his new form of being. To want, to hunger, endlessly.

Also to his now far superior senses, they smelt impossibly good.

He looked at the clock (you don’t need to).

3:08 (20 seconds, 14 milliseconds, the feel of the earth slowly turning on its axis, the whirl of a body in motion around the sun-) PM. Mabel would be home soon and then she could give him some chips and he could put this whole stupid day behind him.

Mabel sighed with relief as she exited the building. Another school day done. She began the long walk home and once again tried to tell herself it was because she liked being outside and not, say, because her bus driver was a poop butt (be nice) and wouldn’t let her on his bus anymore.

She used to like school. School was where her friends and art class were. But they had had to cut art class this year because of dumb budget thing. And yeah, Mabel did art stuff all the time at home but that wasn’t the same as actually getting to go to a special class for it every day. How was she going to learn new things now? Dipper had rolled his eyes at her and just told her to use YouTube but that wasn’t the same. And as for friends-

Mabel blew out a raspberry. She was half way through the school year. She should be used to this by now. Used to not having Cherry or Eddie or Christina talk to her any more. Used to sitting alone at lunch, to having her teachers look over and pretend not to see her raised hand. Thanks to one or two…. thingies from Dipper at the beginning of the year, no one made fun of her or messed with her anymore, outwardly at least.

They just ignored her now. Oh, and left notes in her locker, notes which made her feel dirty just to read, notes that sometimes had an adult’s handwriting on them.

(She read each one then threw it away. Her parents couldn’t do anything about it and she was scared what Dipper would do if he knew.)

Mabel kicked a rock in her path and sighed. Used to be, her and Dipper would take the Alcor Express to Gravity Falls and spend the afternoon at the Shack. Soos would make her Magic Milk, Melody would do her hair in a million tiny braids, and both of them would show her and Dipper the new attractions they had made. After Paz and Grenda and Candy got out from school, they’d come over too, and they’d all chase Dipper through the yard until dinner time in Piedmont. But Mom and Dad had made them stop, saying they didn’t want them hanging out with strangers two states away.

(“But they aren’t strangers!” she had cried. “They’re our friends and we love them!”

Mom had pursed her lips and Dad had sighed. They gave each other one of those long looks that they thought Mabel was too stupid to understand. Finally, Dad said, “We will try and stop at Gravity Falls on our way to Seattle in January. Meet this Mr. Ramirez. Then we will discuss this further-”

Mabel opened her mouth to argue, but from the looks on her parents’ faces, she knew she shouldn’t push it.

Also that they expected her to break the news to Dipper.)

She blew out her breath in a big raspberry and stepped over a branch on the sidewalk. Remember.

Remember to be nice. Remember to be fair.

Remember that this was hard for Mom and Dad too. Remember that she could have made things a lot easier for herself if she had just lied about Dipper at school. Remember to remind Dad to set a place for Dipper at dinner tonight.

Remember, no matter how hard she had tried to forget, the scream Dipper let out as she saw him burn from the inside out.

Her steps sped up.

Remember to think about everyone but herself. Remember to not think about how lonely she felt, and no she shouldn’t feel that way, she talked to the girls on the phone all the time, be fair Mabel.

Was she running now? Yup, Leftie and Veronica were definitely running now.

Remember how tired she was. Remember how much Dipper relied on her for everything. Remember to try and control her emotions somehow by the time she got home because now Dipper could tell when she was upset and she didn’t want to try and explain why she was upset. Remember to stop being so upset, to stop being such a big weenie crybaby, because Dipper had it so much worse than her and she shouldn’t forget that and she needed to be better she needed to be nicer she needed to not

To not remember the mean, ugly, snarly thing in her chest that felt like it was going to claw its way out at any second.

Mabel swallowed the scream that was welling up in her throat as she finally saw the front porch of her house. She took a moment by the front door to calm down. She thought about kittencorns and snadgers and a snadger riding a kittencorn through a rainbow explosion in the Gumdrop Duchy, and that did the trick. Somehow, she managed to pull a smile out of her brain pocket.

Besides, there was that bag of fancypants potato chips Mom had got for her at the Farmer’s Market waiting for her inside.

——

Finally, finally the door opened to their bedroom and Mabel came in. He tried to ignore the way her aura was muted and damp, deep ugly puce and magenta and sqarporple. The way she threw her horse backpack to the ground instead of placing it lovingly on her papasan chair, like she did last year.

The crick she was getting in her neck from constantly looking down.

He wished he was ignoring it because it would hurt Mabel to draw her attention to his awareness of her dejection, but honestly, it was because dissecting her emotions would delay the delivery of potato chips from Mabel’s hands into his mouth.

“Mabel!”

She tiredly smiled. “Hey Dippinsauce.”

He went on. “My favorite Mabelrooni!”

“Hi.”

“Mabellina!”

She raised an eyebrow, a skill she had learned at age seven and refused to teach him (not that he needed her to do that now) (no, stop it Dipper.)

“Whoa there broseph,” she said, picking up the potato chips. “I thought we agreed- no talking like each other because that’s weird and like, we’re twins but not like, horror movie psycho twins.”

Despite the need surging through his system, Dipper shuddered. “Like that one convention last month,” he said.

Mabel grimaced. “Yeah.”

He knew how many individual grains of salt were on each chip. He knew how many chips there were in the bag (57.) He knew that there were chips from four separate potatoes in the bag, and that said potatoes came from a factory farm in Idaho and not from a backyard in Piedmont as was claimed by the proprietor. But the pickles and pickle juice that flavored the chips were handmade, that much was true. It felt like his stomach was going to crawl out of his mouth to get at the chips.

It probably felt like that because that bad boy was currently trying to squeeze its way out. Dipper frowned, and gulped hard to push his stomach back in place.

Mabel had grabbed the bag.

Mabel had opened the bag.

Mabel was saying something or the other but she always blathered on for a bit after school it wasn’t that important what was important was chips in his mouth now-

“Mabel, can I have the potato chips?”

There. That was polite. Ish.

Mabel smiled. “No offence Dipperino, but I’ve been looking forward to these all day. But I don’t mind sharing! We can do ‘one for me, one for you,’ and make it even even!”

Dipper frowned slightly. “Yeah but I’ve been waiting for them all day. I’d reallylike the whole bag if that’s okay.”

His twin’s smile wavered, but then re-fixed itself. “I’m sorry Dipper. Normally I’d let you have them all to yourself since I know… I know it gets lonely during the day. But I was really looking forward to these.”

“Well, so was I.”

“Well, me too! Can’t we just share? Like we used to do all the time?”

“N̦͉̝̼͈o̴̦͖̭̺͇̮!̣̼” The force with which the word came out of his mouth surprised him, but he kept on going.

“You don’t understand Mabel. I spent forty minutes today tracing the history of each and every potato that went into that pack- and I didn’t even want to! It just happened! Dad came in here to vacuum, and he walked through me, and I didn’t even notice because I was so busy thinking about the chips! I don’t wantto want them but I do! So just. Give them to me? Please?”

Dipper was really upset, she could tell. And he was right. He had a rough day. She should stop being selfish and give him the chips. Be a good sister and all that. Besides, there was some Lays and peanut butter to dip them in downstairs. Ignore the hot, mean, ugly snarly thing screaming in her stomach.

She opened her mouth to say okay, she extended her hand to give him the bag-

Mabel clutched the bag to her chest and snapped out, “No!”

Her brother had gone still, stiller than a person could ever get.

“What do you mean ‘no,’ Shooting Star?”

Ohhhh no he wasn’t going to get her with that trick.

It was the mean snarly thing in her stomach that spoke for Mabel, the mean snarly thing that had been born when she woke up in a dark, pink place, that had only continued to grow since then.

“I mean no! I’m… I’m tired too Dipper! I know this is harder for you, but haven’t you ever thought about that it’s hard for me too? I’m tired of… Of giving you everything! Just this once won’t you let me keep something for myself?”

The room in Dipper’s vision turned red, every single thing in his sight a shade of throbbing, angry crimson.

“It’s hard? For you?! At least you’re not dead!”

“Dipper you aren’t dead though-”

He laughed, and the glass of Mabel Juice she had poured for herself got lumpy and gross like old milk.

“Tell that to Mom and Dad! They had a funeral for me remember? There’s a stone and everything!”

“You are alive-”

“Ń̛ót̴͝ ̡to̶̧ ̧t̢h͘ę͠m̷͜!̀̕”

Dipper had burst into flames at that last part, but before she could remind him to put himself out, he kept talking.

“They walk through me even after you tell them I’m there. They visit my grave once a week even though they… they know I’m there with them. They’ve stopped worrying about my allergies. And you know they haven’t told Grandma Lorie and Grandpa Lou about… about me, not like they would have told Grandma Shermie. They don’t correct people when they say I’m dead, not like you do. They… Mark and Anna-“

“Mom and Dad-“

“They… they forget about me sometimes.” Dipper paused. “Well, maybe not forgetting all the way, because in the back of their minds is the constant thought about the Son They Lost and Mabel don’t look at me like that I’m just saying what’s there…”

He pointed a claw tipped finger at her.

“They don’t set a place for me at the dinner table any more Mabel! Haven’t you noticed that?”

“Yeah, but you don’t eat so why does it matter….”

Too late Mabel realized that she had said the wrong thing.

Dipper looked at her.

She was aware, for the first time in a very long time, of his black eyes, of the ears that grew more pointed and long with every passing day.

Fingers tipped with claws that were twitching.

Maybe she should be scared (and she was, a little bit) but this was Dipper. This was her twin, her bro-bro. And no matter how many arguments they had, she had never lost one yet. And while there would be time to apologize later, the key in arguing with Dipper was not letting him get a word in. Once you did that, he’d use his dumb “logic” and “sense” and, worse of all, “facts.”

“You’re tired of being overlooked? Of being treated differently now? Of having people look at you and think of bad things only? Well so am I.”

Mabel put the bag of chips down on the bed behind her, out of Dipper’s line of sight.

“You know; I can’t remember the last time you said ‘thank you.’”

The aura of menace that was building around Dipper shorted out.

“What… what does that have to do with anything?”

The hot snarly thing was still in her chest, screaming in anger, but at this point Mabel just felt tired.

"Dipper.... Dippindots. I spend like, almost my entire day doing stuff for you-"

"No you don't, what about when you're at school and sleeping-"

The look that Mabel gave him shut Dipper up immediately, jaw clicking audibly shut. She went on.

"Since you can't or won't show up for Mom and Dad, I'm the only way you three can talk to each other- and it's not just me telling them what you've said! They've been telling me... mom and dad stuff. No, it’s not that, it’s-"

She shook her head, "They've been telling me adult stuff and expecting me to deal with it for them and I know they don't mean anything bad by that but it really makes my head hurt and-" Mabel blew out a breath. "Then I got to decide what won't hurt your feelings, what you need to hear, and how you should hear it."

"I-"

"There's only so many scrapbooks and macaroni pages I can make to deal with this Dipper!"

Her eyes narrowed. "You have been looking at my 'Mom and Dad Stuff For Dipper' book right? I leave the pages open for you-?"

Dipper was silent and that alone was all the answer she needed.

“Wow. Great. Fantastic.” Mabel didn’t recognize the voice that was coming out of her mouth, all adult sounding and snarly and mean. She looked down into the bag, at the potato chips waiting for her.

“You know what? Fine. I’m done trying for you-“

(no, no Mabel you don’t mean that)

(she did mean it though. Not for always and forever, but for here and now, Mabel Anna Pines was done with this)

She put a hand in the bag.

“Mabel.”

She pulled out a chip.

“Mabel, I thought I told you those chips were mine.”

Mabel put the chip back and Dipper sighed in relief… only to see her grab out five chips and shove them all in her mouth.

The sound that came out of Dipper’s mouth wasn’t human. 

Human voices didn’t shatter car windows four blocks away and make ears bleed. 

Mabel pushed through and pulled out another chip. 

“S͎t̯̱o̞p̤̩̯̥̱̯͘”

His twin froze. Dipper could still see the rise and fall of her chest, the trembling of her arms forced to stay in one awkward place.

He reached out.

He grabbed the bag of potato chips- and he could touch them! He could have t͈̜͙̣͕͚̥́h̢̠̱͚ḙ̴̲͔̜͚m̦̬̥̘̳̞̯͠.

They were his and they were his and he ate them all in front of his sister’s eyes, ungraceful shovels of chips into his mouth, one, two, three handfuls and they were gone.

They were the most utterly disappointing things he had ever eaten. They didn’t live up to the day long hype in his mind... but they weren’t rotten or gross either.

They were just potato chips, and looking at his sister’s face, they tasted like ashes in his mouth.

[lilyharvord]

MERRY CHRISTMAS DARLING!

The last of your presents!!!!! (((: 

A set of 3 One Shots, the first of them coming right after War Storm, in an obviously perfect fanfiction world. (:  

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays darling!!! @thewrraith

 Leaving

 I flinch at the explosion of sound above my head, spilling half my drink in the process. I swear profusely as I shake my hand, spraying the droplets all over the stone of the balcony as I do so. When I look up again, everyone is crowding toward the edge to point up and cheer. Narrowing my eyes at them, I hiss, “Idiots.”

           What do they have to cheer for? They spent half their time here, behind the safety of these walls. A few New Bloods also stare and sneer at the celebrating Silvers. I huff at the crowd and then turn on my heel to quickly enter the ballroom again. A number of other people are standing around inside. Notably, I see Larieta, lounging on her throne of black iron, her deep green dress splayed around her. I wonder if she chose to wear snakes again. I shiver at the prospect, and then feel a distinct change in the air around me as the temperature rises a few degrees.

           “It’s normal cloth, she didn’t want anything to distract from what’s on top of her head.” Cal teases at my shoulder, I jump slightly again at his proximity, spilling more of my drink.

           “Dammit.” I hiss as I wipe the liquid off on my pants this time. He snorts at my comment, and then stepping around to face me, he smirks and says, “I can get you another one you know.”            I glare up at him, taking in the dark circles under his eyes and the length of his hair. It’s been so long since I actually looked at him and realized what he looked like. Over the past months we’ve barely seen each other except in passing, and if we do, there are only brushing touches. Fingers brushing hands as we pass each other in the halls, or eyes grazing over the other. Normally, I think I see a flash of relief when he sees me, as if he had been worried that I was gone, or that I was dead. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was because of the latter.

I had had my fair share of close calls these past few months though, and so had he. Two assassination attempts, one foiled because I happened to be in the right place at the right time, another because the idiot who tried to poison him had put it in his own cup and then killed himself right in front of everyone, and a few close shaves on the battle field. One of which had been too close even for my comfort a few weeks ago after our victory at Archeon.

I could remember how Ptolemus had dragged him in, his entire body limp, and his eyes closed. His breathing had been wet, and there had been blood dripping from his mouth.  I’d gotten to them first, and Ptolemus had tried to lay him down softly, but had actually ended up dropping him. Cal had choked in agony and I had grabbed him immediately after, softly laying his head in my lap while I quickly began to undo his armor with shaking fingers, terrified of what wound I would find underneath. It had been stained silver, and I had practically torn the plating off. Eventually, he had let out a soft, wet gasp, and I had felt him slump, and my heart had leaped into overdrive. I had sworn to myself that I wouldn’t care if he lived or died, that it was almost better if the latter happened, but in that moment, I couldn’t bear to think about what would happen if he died in my arms.

So, without thinking, I had shoved my hand under the breast plate of the armor and delivered an electric shock to his whole body. He’d convulsed and had chocked on air as his heart began to beat again. I had to do that three more times before Wren had arrived. He had stayed under her intensive care for the next weeks, and I hadn’t seen him since. I had imagined he would look much better, but it looks as if he hasn’t slept in days.

           “I don’t exactly want another,” I say as I pull my glass away from his reaching hand. He chuckles softly, and pulls his hand back. I glare up at him, and he gives me a soft smile, the one that I fell in love with in Piedmont and even in Archeon when I had first met him, the one that I hadn’t seen in months. “Don’t look at me like that,” I insist as I look away.

           “Like what? I’m not looking at you any special way.” He replies, the smile falling instantly. I glance back at him for a moment and then whisper softly, “Like you always do...”

           “Would you rather I didn’t look at you at all then?” He asks softly, his expression crumbling just slightly. I looked away at those words again. If only he knew the affect he still had, but he had to know or else he wouldn’t be here now. I raise my chin a fraction of an inch and looking straight ahead, I decide to change the subject quickly. “Congratulations, I hear the coronation will be excellent.”

           He snorts and swirling his drink replies, “I don’t know where you heard that. There isn’t going to be a coronation.”

           My head whips around so fast, my entire body jolts, causing more of the drink to spill. But I ignore it as I get a good look at him finally. No armor, no crown, just a man in a suit. I blink for a moment, wondering what changed…what happened to cause this change.

           He sees the question in my eyes and without a moment of hesitation he says, “I handed the entire thing over to Davidson. Norta is his to do with as he sees fit. I was never going to be the king your people need. But maybe…Davidson can be the leader they need.”

           I raise my brow at him and then force a look over my shoulder, a habit I’d gotten into over the past few months. When I’m told sensitive information at all within these walls, I had been taught to look for spies. I see none now though, just people enjoying victory.

           “Does the Samos family know?” My voice is soft, but he still hears it. His expression turns pained for a heartbeat before he replies, “No. I’ll be leaving tomorrow morning though, before dawn.”

           “Where will you go?” I ask, part out of curiosity, part out of hope. Will he go to Montfort? Will he be where I am?

           Shrugging he glances out at the terrace full of Silvers, New Bloods, and Reds alike. “I’m not sure,” he murmurs, “I’m thinking I’ll put the one good skill I have to use and fix broken machines. There’s got to be some town, village or city that needs a mechanic.”

           “Has Davidson offered you a position?”

           “Not exactly, he mentioned that there were no mechanics in a quarter of Montfort, and having one there would be helpful. I might take him up on the offer. But, in all honesty, my first priority is to be as far from this place as possible by the time the Samos family finds out the truth when I’m not there at the treaty signing and Davidson announcing the new terms.” He laughs to himself, and says softly, “Although, I would give an arm and a leg just to see their faces when he tells them that I handed the entire country over to him and signed it over without telling them.”

           I can’t help but smirk at the fact that Volo and his snake of a wife will have been cheated out of the biggest pay off they could have ever dreamed of. My cold demeanor slowly melts as I realize that this might be the last time I see him. Reaching out, I set my hand on his arm and then whisper honestly, “Thank you.”

           He raises his brow at my words but throws his head back and laughs. My face burns at his reaction, and I can’t help but wonder what I said that was so funny. When he finishes laughing, he shakes his head softly and murmurs, “You’ll probably be the only person that tells me that.”

           Without hesitating, I slip into his defenses and press a light kiss on his cheek. “I’m grateful,” I murmur against his skin and feel him stiffen. I pull away before he can reply and giving him a smile I say, “Best of luck to you then Cal.” I haven’t called him that in months. His title had always been cold on my tongue, but saying his name again, it’s like tasting warm tea after standing outside in the ice for weeks. It fills me with warmth, with hope, that maybe someday down the road, we can meet as Mare and Cal again, and not Tiberias Calore the Seventh, and the Little Lightning Girl.

           He nods softly, and whispers the same pleasantry. Outside the fireworks explode in a parade of light and sound. It drowns out the moment when I slowly stand on my toes and go to kiss him. His head turns to the side just slightly though, and my kiss misses his lips and hits the side of him mouth. I open my eyes in surprise and see that he looks just as surprised by my action and his response as I am. He blushes deeply and then whispers, “I should go. I have a lot to pack.”

           I nod tightly, and watch him disappear into the crowd, like the sparkling gold raining down in the night sky outside as he vanishes among the crowd.

 Fracturing

           The nightmares return the moment I return to Montfort. My little apartment is too empty, and too cold. I have no personal items to decorate it, no pictures, and no furniture, spare the bed and the small table in the kitchen with a little rickety chair. I feel more alone than ever before. I spend most of my days in the massive government building at Davidson’s side, helping him and the others slowly mold a continent into a whole country. Like it used to be before the Blood Divide, Davidson tells me with a smile every time I ask.

           He’s more patient than I am though, more patient the other Reds too, who all demand the unification be now. The problem with unification, he says, is that the people who are in power need to want it more than the people, which is where we are stuck.

           It’s been two years now though, and even Davidson’s patience is running thin now. Now that my nightmares are back in full force too, I can barely sleep, and I’m practically a wreck in our meetings. Today was not a good day either, I fell asleep at the little desk I have, and I slept through a meeting. Davidson had felt bad, thinking he was working me into the ground, and ordered that I go back to my apartment for the day and try to get some sleep. I don’t have the heart to tell him that I can’t sleep anymore.

           Instead, of going back to my apartment though, I wander the streets of Montfort. I watch the little children run screaming by me, chasing each other and laughing. I wonder if they know that there are hundreds of thousands of people that died so that they could do that. Ahead of me, the market that is open every other day is busy and loud. I edge into it, using the sound to help muffle my thoughts. I glance in a few carts, and a few men try to sell me bracelets and rings. I brush them off, saying I’m not interested. My coin purse rattles though, and they know it. I hold it close to my side, remembering how once upon a time I used to steal from coin purses like the one I own now. If only my past self could see me now.

           I pause in front of a tavern, my mind reeling, and without a thought I storm in. Its empty at this time of day, but I make my way up to the bar and placing a few tetrarchs on the counter. I demand a full bottle of the strongest spirit they have, my face burning at the coolness of my demand. The man looks at me, takes in my size, and doing a poor job of hiding a laugh, pulls a large bottle down and hands it to me. I take it from him greedily and then storm out the way I came.

           As soon as I’m out in the sunlight again, I feel stupid. I glare down at the bottle and have half a mind to throw it against a wall. A waste, I would never drink all this, and if I did, I would certainly die. Chiding myself for such an idiotic purpose, I almost miss him walk by. I can’t miss that voice though.

           My head snaps up and I see him across the way, carrying a brown bag and laughing as a few of the market kids leap at him and chant something at him. He shoes them away laughing, and tells them to go find their parents. They only seem to cling to him more though, asking him for favors, can he fix their bike that broke yesterday, what about their family’s heater? He promises to try and help all of them, if they come to the shop and tell him the problem so he can write it down.

           He dressed in simple street clothes, and I blink in surprise at that. His hair is short again, but he’s not clean shaven. In fact, it startles me how much he looks like his a much younger version of the man his father had been. He’s the same other than that though. That same bright smile and bright eyes that don’t see that the kids are just pestering him for fun.

           Eventually, he manages to shake them and hurries down the street. People don’t really pay him mind, but a few of them wave to him and he waves back. My skin crawls with surprise at the simplicity of the gesture and without another thought, I start to trail him.

           He’s easy to follow, like he’s always been. My steps are as light as they used to be, and I trail after him like a cat would a mouse. He leads me down a few streets, before making his way down a dead end street. He sets his bag down and then grabs the bottom of the metal door and with a grunt heaves it up. Inside I can see a machine and parts scattered all over the floor. I stand at the other end of the street watching as he whistles softly and picks his back up before entering the yawning space. He sets the bag down and then clicks a light on. I feel the hum of electricity from here, and watch as he shrugs his jacket off and reveals an oil and grease stained shirt.

           I hesitantly make my way toward him. I feel like a ghost that is about to intrude upon him. I’m a phantom now, something that would only dig up horrible memories for him. I wonder if I should even approach.

           He turns his back to me and rolling up his sleeves, he bends down and drags a box of tools toward him before digging through it. When he finds what he’s looking for, he bends over the machine and starts to work. I watch him for a few moments, before slowly edging closer. Does he know I’m here? Can he feel my presence? I can feel every nerve in his body, branching like lightning under his skin. It has always fascinated me how like a storm people are, with hundreds of millions of little lightning strikes happening within their body at one time, without them knowing.

           “Are you going to keep standing there and staring, or are you going to come in Mare?”

I tense in surprise at the laughter in his voice. Edging slowly into the shadow of his space, I whisper, “I didn’t want to startle you.”

“I knew you were following me the whole time.” He says with a smile before glancing up at me. His face is so soft, his eyes so gentle. I blink and then blurt out, “You look like your father.”

He looks at taken aback as I thought he would. Standing up to his full height, he runs a hand stained with oil through his hair before wiping off the cover of the machine and looking at his reflection in it. He scratches the beard for a moment and then says, “I suppose I do…I haven’t really thought about…”

“I’m sorry for bringing it up.” I interrupt as I hug my bottle of alcohol close to my chest. He looks over at me again and spots the bottle. Raising a brow, he asks, “Day drinking now Mare?”

“I can’t sleep at night, this helps.” I murmur. He sighs and then slowly bends over the machine again. “I know. My father used to say that.”

My stomach clenches at the idea of being compared to his father. He doesn’t say anything else for a few more seconds. Eventually he sets the tool down and looking at me he murmurs, “Do you want a partner to help you finish that?”

I glanced at the bottle, before looking up and nodding in conformation.

(////)

He has a small terrace above the garage that he owns. He bought this small apartment and garage with the money he had taken with him. He’d sold all his possessions and had moved in here and had been fixing cars and machines for two years now. He mostly stays off the radar, and no one really questions him. As long as he does his job and fixes everything. He tells me all this with an abandon while we both drink from two small glasses that he brought out.

I laugh for the first time in what feels like months. And we swap stories about our lives now. It takes until the bottle is only a fourth of the way full for me to tell him the truth.

I had been watching him for a few seconds, watching the way the late afternoon sun cuts across his face and his eyes. I had always loved how the sun could make his eyes into raging light. I inhale softly and then whisper, “You haven’t changed at all.”

He raises his brow at my words and then setting his half empty glass down he says, “You have though. I can see it.” He tilts his head to the side before reaching across the small table and brushing his knuckle against my cheek. I watch his eyes the whole time though. His expression is pained as he whispers, “I’m just a fractured as you, I feel like I’m cracking a little more every day.”

“I feel like I can’t put myself back together.” I reply in an equally soft tone. He stands then, and crosses the table to me. I watch his movements, and when he’s in front of me, he slowly cups my face and lowers his face to mine. His forehead rests against mine and I inhale slowly as I reach up and wrap my arms around his neck. He traces my temple with the tip of his nose and then brushes his lips over mine. I turn my head and complete the kiss. He pulls away slightly though and whispers against my cheek, “We shouldn’t, we’ll just hurt each other. We have a habit of doing that.”

“We can’t hurt each other anymore than we already have.” I urge, and he seems to accept the words, because his next kiss is less tentative.

Healing

       It takes a few weeks for me to memorize the way from my apartment to his garage, but I do it. It gets easier to find my way there the more times I visit. His bed is always warm too, just like I remember it always being. He’s gentle, like he always was. His kisses are like embers, and they leave my skin burning with need.

Even today, when its freezing with the first snow, it’s warm in his bed. I roll to face him, after laying with my back up against him for hours, absorbing all that warmth. His eyes are closed and his breathing is deep with sleep. I reach up and slowly trace the backs of my fingers down his cheek. He shifts in his sleep and mumbles something. I smile softly at that, remembering how he used to snap awake at the slightest movement on my part, when we had once shared a bed in a soldier barrack in Piedmont.  Now, it seems like he could sleep through a bomb going off.

His eyes flicker open and in his sleepy state his eyes look like melting ore. I trace his jaw again and he smiles softly before murmuring, “I was enjoying my nap.”

“Sorry,” I whisper, knowing that we’re both only half serious. He smirks, and closes his eyes again before sliding his hand around my hips and pulling me closer so that we’re sharing the same air. I brush my lips against his cheek, and whisper, “I’ll let you nap again.”

He expels a long breath and squeezing me tighter he says, “Well I’m awake now, so there’s no use.”

I laugh softly as I crane my neck to look up at him. I wiggle my arm from between us and reach up to cup his cheek. Softly caressing his cheek with my thumb I murmur, “I liked it when you’re clean shaven.”

Chuckling at my comment he turns his head and presses a kiss into the palm of my hand. When he turns his head to look at me again he says, “You seem happier more often these days.”

I shrug softly, not sure if it’s because of him, or because we’re finally making progress on unifying the country. I want to say it is the latter, but when I’m lying in his bed, I don’t have nightmares. Like in the Notch, he seems to have an impossible ability to chase my fears away, even in sleep. I never realized how much I missed it until now.

“I guess I’m healing now.” I whisper to him, as I close my eyes and bury my head in the crook of his shoulder. Craning my neck again, I press a soft kiss underneath his jaw. I can smell the eucalyptus shaving cream he used last night right before bed, and underneath that, the same dark scent of wood burning. He smells like autumn, and like home.

Dipping his head, he presses a kiss near my ear and murmurs, “Me too.”

 THE END 

[queenofcats17]

The Ink Demonth 17

Today is Underappreciated. Which means....It’s time for the underappreciated studio workers to complain!

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

“It’s like, does anyone even know how much I do around here? I’m- I’m the only reason the studio hasn’t gone under!”

“Amen to that.” 

“They’re all morons, the lot of ‘em.”

“I-I hate my job.” Grant laid his head on the table, hiccuping loudly. “‘S...’S like Joey doesn’t even un-understand how money works.”

Currently, he, Lacie, Wally, Norman, and Shawn were gathered in the basement of Lacie’s house for their weekly session of drinking and complaining about work. It had started with just him, Shawn, and Tom, but when the Bendyland project had started Lacie had joined. Norman had shown up one day with a bottle of liquor and he’d been coming to the complaining sessions ever since. And Wally was there as Shawn’s designated driver. Tom had stopped coming around recently, although they didn’t know why. 

“Let it out.” Shawn patted Grant’s back as the accountant aired his grievances. The only time they could ever get Grant to let out all his negative emotions was when he was drunk. Otherwise, he’d just bottle things up. That wasn’t good for him.

“We’re glad to have you, Grant.” Wally gave him what he hoped was a comforting smile. “You’re the only thing standing between us and bankruptcy.” It was sad how few people appreciated everything Grant did to keep the studio afloat. He was a minor miracle worker.

“Bendyland alone nearly bankrupted us!” Grant moaned, waving his bottle around. “Why does Joey even need a theme park?!”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Lacie shrugged, leaning back in her chair. “Certainly isn’t getting off the ground anytime soon."

“I’m surprised Piedmont hasn’t taken off yet,” Norman remarked, glancing at Lacie. “Wouldn’t think he’d tolerate being around Joey any longer than he has to.”

“At this point, he’s just staying out of spite.” Lacie sighed heavily. “It’s just one big pissing contest between him and Drew. Meanwhile, I’ve gotta make sure those darn workers down burn the warehouse down while he’s tinkering away.” She loved Bertram dearly, but that man could be too stubborn for his own good sometimes. He always got tunnel vision when his pride was threatened.

“Well, I’m assuming you’re doing a pretty good job of it so far.” Norman gently punched her shoulder. “I think I would’ve heard if someone died on your watch.”

“What do you think that ink machine Joey put in even does?” Wally asked. At the mention of the Ink Machine, Grant (who had quieted down a bit) began his moans anew. 

“That machine! That machine has given me a million new gray hairs!”

“I just don’t get what it’s supposed to do.” Wally continued as Shawn tried to keep Grant from getting up on the table. “I’ve had to clean up half a dozen ink spills in this week alone from broken pipes. We don’t even use the ink for anything.”

“It floods everything all the time,” Shawn said, dragging Grant down. “It flooded level 14-″

“Flooded the Buddy Boris Railway area,” Lacie added. 

“Yeah, that too.” Shawn nodded. “It floods everything! And the pipes break all the time! I can’t paint dolls if I’ve got ink all over me!”

“Can’t do expense reports if everything’s covered in ink~” Grant sang, slumped in Shawn’s arms like a ragdoll.

“That pump switch in Sammy’s office sure isn’t helping anyone either.” Norman’s face twisted in irritation. “We can’t exactly do our jobs if he keeps sending us out of the room to go to his little sanctuary. Hell, I can’t even do maintenance on the projector in my booth anymore because he might barge in and interrupt me!” That was one of the things that frustrated him the most. Projector maintenance was time-intensive and required a careful hand. He’d had more than a few projectors blow up in his face and he wasn’t eager to repeat the experience.

“If Tom was here, we could ask him about that machine.” Shawn looked over at the chair where Tom usually sat.

“I wonder why he stopped coming around,” Wally said. He’d been working with Tom a lot more lately, as some mechanic duties had been added onto his janitorial duties. If he was being honest, he was starting to get run a little ragged. Not only was he responsible for keeping the studio clean, he now had to figure out how to maintain some of the machines. 

“Might have something to do with that machine,” Lacie suggested. 

“Might.” Norman agreed. The machine getting put in was about the time Tom had stopped hanging out with them. 

The group lapsed into silence. Grant was crying now, face down on the table. Shawn was patting his back and Wally had started feeding him crackers. For a long time, the only sound in the room was Grant’s muffled sobbing and Shawn and Wally’s comforting words.

“Why’re we still working for Joey?” Norman asked, staring down at his bottle. 

“I’m just staying for Bertram,” Lacie replied.

“I don’t think I’ve got anywhere else to go,” Wally admitted as he toyed with the cracker box. “You really think any other place is gonna hire me?”

“I’m not just gonna abandon Grant.” Shawn didn’t look up from comforting Grant. “Plus Wally’s here.”

“What about you?” Lacie gestured to Norman. “Why’ve you stayed?”

“I dunno.” He shrugged. “Maybe I’m worried the studio’ll collapse if I leave.”

“No one knows projectors better than you.” Wally scooted over to gently elbow Norman in the ribs. 

“And no one knows mops better than you,” Norman replied with a grin. 

“Hey! That’s no fair!”

“You do know mops, Wally.”

“I’m more than just a janitor!”

“Sure, Franks.”

[thinkingagain]

“Beasts choose these presidents freely?” The Sir’s eyes narrowed. “They attempt to do something that approximates fairness?”

Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest (A Novel of the Revolution) Book One: Conquest Chapter 18

“A number of the best views of Washington can be found on the George Washington Parkway,” Leo said to Lucky Blue across the front seat of the car. They’d been driving for a while. Outside the car, the night was deeply dark. “You know how to get there?”

“Sure do.” Lucky was still sitting on the Beast’s right shoulder and keeping its Fleshy Piedmonts firmly on the wheel. “I’ve taken in those views several times. We’ll pick up the Beltway and then be around to it. Not too much longer now.”

“George Washington?” Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest looked up from his low spot on the seat between Leo and the Beast, which was staring passively at the landscape while Lucky guided its driving. It seemed calmed by movement.

“A famous Beast leader,” Leo said. “He was the first of what is called the President of the United States.”

“How does one get to be a president?”

Leo’s beard fluffed out happily at the question. “Over the history of what Beasts call the United States, Beasts have divided themselves into different political groups. Each group picks the Beast they’d like to be president. Then the Beasts chosen by the various groups are judged together in a thing called an election.”

The Sir looked at Leo curiously. “An election?”

“The general idea is that the Beast chosen by the largest number of Beasts becomes president, but it doesn’t really happen that way. Beasts split themselves into artificial geographic regions called states. Within each state there can be only one Beast winner, and each state has a different number value assigned to it, based on its population, and,” Leo frowned, “well, I’m not sure it’s worth going through all the details. Let’s just say that ultimately, after many complications, one Beast wins.”

“Beasts choose these presidents freely?” The Sir’s eyes narrowed. “They attempt to do something that approximates fairness? I have to say I doubt it.”

“No no no.” Leo shook his head vehemently, his big bunny beard flying around and catching the headlights of a passing Beast vehicle. “There’s no fairness. Only powerful Beasts are eligible to be president. Then Beasts manipulate each other frantically until a final decision is made. As with all Beastly things, what they tell themselves an election is, and what it actually is, have little in common. The goal of an election is for Beasts to do something unfairly while claiming it’s fair.”

Unsurprised, the Sir shook his head. “A few key principles make clear everything about Beasts that a bunny needs to know, it seems.”

Leo nodded. “Maybe so. In theory, each individual adult Beast gets a vote, although in practice, many Beasts don’t vote or are prevented from voting. Each group that’s supporting a Beast tells as many lies as it can about the goodness of its own potential President Beast and about the evil of the other potential President Beasts. The group whose lies are most convincing to the largest proportion of Beast states has their potential president become president. It’s not always obvious which lie will flatter the largest percentage of Beasts at any given time.”

“What happens to the smaller Beast groups that do not win?”

“They become available for abuse. Although they often defend themselves well enough to fight another time. Of course, the most abused Beasts, in the election process and any other, are the neediest or sickest or most helpless Beasts, most of whom play little or no role in elections. A Beast that senses weakness in another Beast will tear it apart if it can.”

“Yes.” The Sir looked at the Beast on the seat next to him as it stared placidly at passing lights. “This Beast is helpless in the face of other Beasts, but it would be a mistake to let it loose around any weaker animal.”

“Of course even the Beast that wins an election becomes available for abuse,” Leo said, “since the losing Beasts immediately start a new round of lies in order to prepare for the next election.”

The rabbits lapsed into thought in the darkness of the Beast vehicle. The lights of other Beast vehicles continued flashing past them.

A while later, Lucky said, “Here’s George Washington Parkway. First rest stop with a good view of the city coming up shortly. We can probably park there, get out, and have at least a little sleep before morning, when we’ll be able to see the city.”

Soon Lucky pulled into the rest stop and parked the car. The rabbits jumped happily out of it. It was still night, although bits of lighter darkness hovered along the horizon. “How can Beasts stand being in those things so often?” the Sir asked.

“You get used to it,” Lucky said. “Still, of all Beast creations, Beast cars are maybe the most damaging. Kills Beasts in them, kills animals that get near them, kills the air, kills the land and water that needs the air. It’s not any one car that does it. But the sum total of all Beast cars all over the world is more deadly than any of their intentional weapons.”

“Story of Los Angeles,” Jack chimed in. “One, anyway.”

“I shall find some grass and brush to lie down in and get clean,” the Sir said. “I realize that we had to use the Beast car and will have to use it again. Still, there’s only so much that a bunny can stand.”

The Beast was whining, trying to stay in the car. Muffin was yanking at it.

“The Beast could get in a lot of trouble if another Beast found it sleeping in the car,” Lucky said. “Make it step out.”

“I kept its Beast ground cloth for situations like this,” Muffin said, “as well as several Beast blankets. It probably feels exposed outside, although it’s a feeling more than a fact.”

“We’ll find a way to keep it warm,” the Sir said. “We can’t tolerate misbehavior. Smack it, will you?”

“Sure.” With his long legs, Muffin gave the Beast several firm kicks, none that caused any pain. It stumbled out of the vehicle.

[animationnut]

To Gravity Falls, From Piedmont: Final Chapter

Summary: It’s a long way until next summer. Until then, Dipper and Mabel share their daily antics and life problems with their lifelong friends and attentive great-uncles through an endless string of e-mails. Distance makes the heart grow fonder after all, and there’s no place Dipper and Mabel love more than Gravity Falls.  Note: When I first started this story, it was to help me, and hopefully others, to cope with the ending of Gravity Falls. Thank you for staying with me on this journey, and I hope you've had as much fun as I did.

                                                     Chapter List

To: GF Crew (10+ contacts in this list)

From: Dipper Pines (GhostHarasserfan)

Subject: On the road

Mabel and I are minutes away from boarding the bus and then it'll be a matter of hours before we see you guys. We can't wait!

See all messages in this thread (Expand)

Mabel Pines: EEEEEE I'M SO EXCITED TO SEE MY PEOPLE AGAIN!

Grenda Gosling: We'll have an epic sleepover once you get here! We'll play loud music that'll annoy the neighbours and I've got a stash of magazines with posters of all the cute boys!

Candy Chiu: And we will eat candy and pizza until we get sick!

Mabel Pines: I can't wait!

Fiddleford McGucket: I'm as jittery as a rabid raccoon, I'm so excited! Got a lot to share with you kids when you get here! Oh, and maybe you can help with my gnome problem. Pesky creatures.

Dipper Pines: A leaf blower will fix that problem right away.

Gideon Gleeful: I eagerly await your arrival, my lady. And I suppose it'll be pleasant to see you again, Dipper.

Robbie Valentino: How about Mabel comes and Dork Tree stays in Cali?

Dipper Pines: Aw, I love you losers too.

Pacifica Northwest: We can go shopping. You need more variety than colourful knitted sweaters.

Mabel Pines: I don't know about that, but I like to shop, so you're on!

Soos Ramirez: We're cleaning up the attic right now, dudes! It'll be all ready for you when you get here.

Dipper Pines: You don't have to do that, we can help clean when we arrive.

Soos Ramirez: Nah, it's no problem.

Grunkle Stan: We'll race you. By land and by sea. Let's see who gets there first. Loser has to sweep the Mystery Shack for a week.

Dipper Pines: Deal.

Mabel Pines: How close are you?

Grunkle Stan: Only a few hours away.

Grunkle Ford: And by a few he means ten, and a sailboat doesn't quite get the mileage of a vehicle.

Grunkle Stan: They're on a public transit bus, Poindexter. Probably the same amount of mileage.

Grunkle Ford: Fair point.

Wendy Corduroy: My dudes are coming back home and we are going to party hard!

Grunkle Ford: We will celebrate in a jubilant but responsible manner.

Grunkle Stan: Buzzkill.

Dipper Pines: Oh, here comes our bus!

Mabel Pines: If you need us, text us. But we'll see you soon!

Wendy could hear the vacuum cleaner before she stepped foot inside the Mystery Shack. She paused in the threshold, staring at the streaks of water across the hardwood floor. Shaking her head in amusement she took off her boots and set them aside. She inched her way along the wall until she got to the living room, where Abuelita was pushing the vacuum cleaner aggressively across the carpet.

"Hey, Abuelita," said Wendy, raising to be heard over the noisy machine.

Abuelita glanced up and greeted, "Hello, dear. Soos is upstairs. There are snacks in the kitchen for you to eat if you're hungry."

"Don't mind if I do. Thanks."

Wendy took a detour to the kitchen, halting when she discovered the piles of saran-wrapped plates and containers of food. Eyes wide, she lifted up the wrap of a plate of chocolate chip cookies in bemusement, taking a couple. She promptly shoved them into her mouth to avoid sprinkling crumbs and headed for the stairs.

"Heads up!"

There was a great clattering and Wendy had a glimpse of a large wooden structure hurtling down the steps her way before instincts caused her to dive to the side. She rolled twice, smacking her head against the wall, and she sat up, flinching as the piece of furniture landed with an almighty crash.

"Soos, are you scratching the floor?" called Abuelita.

"Uh, sorry!" answered Soos, hurrying down the steps. "I'll polish it off."

"What the heck?" asked Wendy, straggling to her feet. "I came to work every day this week, so you really don't have a reason to kill me."

"Sorry Wendy," said Soos sheepishly. "I was trying to get the bedframes outside so I could clean them. They're pretty dusty and cobwebby."

"I think it's sweet you and your grandmother are in a cleaning frenzy to get everything ready for the Pines crew, but seriously." Wendy crossed her arms with a grin. "They're not going to care about dust and whatever. I mean, Mr. Pines ran this place for years and he probably never picked up a feather duster in that time."

"We don't mind." Soos wiped some sweat from his brow and asked, "What's up, dude?"

"I was wondering if you needed any help. I got my crew outside who are reluctantly ready to work."

"Cool! Would you mind working on the yard?" asked Soos. "We haven't gotten a chance to start cleaning outside yet."

"It's the outside. It's not gonna get clean. But I will get rid of all litter the jerk tourists left behind. We'll set up the tables and stuff while we're at it."

"You're the best."

"Flattery gets you everywhere. You need help taking these things outside?" she asked, gesturing towards the bedframe.

"Nah, I got it."

"Sweet. We'll be outside if you need anything." Wendy started down the hallway, careful not to slip on the newly-washed floor. She paused when she reached the end and glanced over her shoulder. "Do you know Abuelita made enough food to feed the army?"

"She does that. Pretty great, huh?"

"Definitely. I'll happily drown in her churros."

Wendy ventured outside, where her friends were gathered around Thompson's vehicle. "Can we go home?" asked Robbie.

"No. We're gonna clean this yard up." Wendy swept her arms to the side to accompany her statement. "Grab a rake, grab a broom, let's move it people."

Tambry looked up from her phone, raising an eyebrow. "And what will you be doing?"

"Supervising. I already clocked in my hours at this place." Wendy hopped onto the hood of the car and lowered Dipper's cap over her eyes. Five sets of hands immediately pushed against her body, sending her tumbling to the ground.

"I don't think so," said Nate with a snort as Lee laughed. "C'mon dudes, let's get those tables." He punched Thompson on the shoulder and the three set off.

"You can do the raking," said Robbie with a snicker as Tambry helped Wendy to her feet.

The redhead glowered at him. "Fine. You can clean the port-a-potties."

"Whoa, not on your life—ouch! Okay, okay, whatever, let go before you crush my windpipe!"

…

Pushing open the heavy oak doors of her former home, Pacifica stepped onto the glossy marble tiles and lifted her designer sunglasses to rest on top of her head. She stared at the scuff marks that streaked across the once-pristine floor and she let out a sigh.

"Hey, McGucket!" she called, walking further into the mansion. "Are you here?"

His raccoon skittered down the grand staircase, claws clicking against the wood. Pacifica yelped and stumbled backwards, giving a wide berth between her and the creature.

"Don't worry, she don't bite none," said McGucket, coming down the staircase next. "She's just sayin' howdy!"

"Great," muttered Pacifica, curling her nose. "I can't believe you still haven't changed the alarm codes. Do you know how much of a security hazard that is?"

McGucket shrugged uncaringly. "Lotta work to get new numbers. Besides, this way ya can visit whenever ya want."

"You're getting a new code. I'll get you a new code. That way I'll have the numbers and there's no chance of my parents attempting to sneak back in here. I don't know if they still believe me when I say you got them changed." Flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder, she asked, "Are you ready?"

"Kinda. I couldn't find them decorations you were talkin' about. Ya know how many rooms ya have in this maze?"

"One hundred and twenty-five," answered Pacifica promptly. "We keep them on the third floor."

They made the trek up the stairs and down the corridor. Pacifica led McGucket into a room at the end of the corridor, where elegant party decorations were packed in totes or balanced against the wall. McGucket watched as Pacifica opened up a box and unpacked several crystal drinking glasses.

"Ya take this stuff back home with ya," spoke McGucket. "I have no need for it."

"Neither do we," said Pacifica, making sure all the glasses were accounted for and arranging them back amongst the bubble wrap. "We can't afford parties like we used to and now that my parents aren't as rick as they used to be they've been sort of ousted from their social group. So you can use this stuff for whatever you want. I figured we could use the dishware and the tablecloths Mom found in Morocco. This may be a hick town but it's a special occasion and it won't kill to show some class."

"And usin' this junk will probably make your parents angrier than a pack of hornets," said McGucket knowingly.

Pacifica flashed her winning, mega-watt smile at him. "Maybe."

She took the box and started to stand, accidentally hitting her head on the shelf above her. It jostled from the movement and one of the boxes started to tip off. McGucket swung Pacifica out of the way and the box crashed to the spot where she had just been, glass crunching within and several broken luxury candles rolling across the floor.

"Thanks," said Pacifica, handing McGucket the box. She then wrangled out the Moroccan tablecloths and then the two started back into the corridor.

"Is that all ya need?" asked McGucket, shutting the door behind him.

"We never exactly invested in streamers, balloons and your typical party supplies. Candy, Grenda and Gideon are getting that stuff. I have to go to the Shack and work out the playlist. Do you wanna come?"

"Sure thing!"

As they crossed the foyer towards the entrance, Pacifica couldn't help but glance down at the marked-up floor. "You know what, I'm getting you a cleaner too. You do not want to know how much these tiles cost, but they don't deserve this kind of treatment."

…

Candy and Grenda tore through the party decoration section of the general store, rifling through bins of neon party hats and noisemakers and sorting through rolls of streamers. Whenever they found something they liked they would toss it over their shoulder and into the cart.

"Oof!" Gideon grunted, a roll of purple streamers bouncing off his forehead and landing in the already-packed cart. "Are ya ladies almost done?"

"No! We have not gotten the confetti yet," said Candy.

"And a confetti cannon!" exclaimed Grenda.

Shaking his head, Gideon continued to follow after the girls as they wound their way down the aisle. Their cart was already full of balloons, streamers, noisemakers and packets of glitter. "I think we have enough."

"We're not leaving without the confetti," said Candy seriously.

Sighing, Gideon swung the cart around and went to check the other side of the aisle, where party favours and gift bags were laid out. As he was searching, Candy and Grenda found the cans of silly string. Exchanging mischievous glances, they each took one and snuck up behind Gideon.

"Surprise!" cheered Candy, and she and Grenda unleashed a wave of foul-smelling turquoise silly string upon the younger boy.

Gideon spluttered, raising his hands to block his face. "Stop that! My hair!"

"We were practicing for when Dipper and Mabel get here," said Grenda cheekily. "I think we did pretty good!"

Giggling madly the two raced down the aisle. Gideon slowly touched the substance sticking to his hair and his eyes narrowed.

"Don't make me set Ghost-Eyes on ya."

…

Pressing her face against the bus window, so that her cheeks and nose were squished against the glass. At the sight of the sign that welcomed them to Gravity Falls, she let out shriek. "Dipper! We're here, we're here!"

Dipper jolted out of his nap, rubbing at his bleary eyes. "What?" He nudged his sister aside, able to catch the sign before they passed by it. He grinned. "Yes! Finally!"

They gathered their luggage and the bus rolled to a stop. They climbed off the vehicle and stood on the edge of the road, immediately noticing the blue and pink streamers tied to the trees. "Well…this is a weird welcome," said Dipper in bemusement.

"It's like a cookie crumb trail, but without the cookies and with streamers!" Mabel swung her purple duffel bag over her shoulder and grabbed Dipper's hand. "Let's go!"

Hearts pounding with eager anticipation, they traversed through the trees, Waddles sniffing after them, following the path the streamers marked out, laced amongst the trunks and low-hanging branches. They walked through town, which was oddly empty, and continued towards the Mystery Shack. Even after the months away, they knew the dirt path well and could walk it with their eyes closed.

The second the Mystery Shack came within view the twins came to a halt, eyes widening at the dozens of people crowding the yard. There was a great roar of cheering when the pair finally stumbled out of the thicket and onto the property, and the first ones to rush towards them were Soos and Wendy.

"Dudes!" exclaimed Soos, swinging the twins into a bear hug. "I'm so happy you're here!"

"We are too!" said Dipper feelingly. "It's so good to see you guys."

"My people," said Wendy with a wide grin, looping her arms around their shoulders and squeezing. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you."

Soos set the twins down and Dipper removed the ushanka. "I think this is yours."

"And I do believe this is yours."

They exchanged hats and Dipper set the worn cap over his tousled brown hair. "Man, this is a lot lighter than I remember."

"Oh yeah, this will definitely keep me warm during the morning chills," said Wendy in satisfaction. She then gave Dipper and Mabel a proper hug. "Man, I missed you."

"We missed you too," said Mabel happily.

"Mabel!"

Mabel swung around and beamed at Candy and Grenda, who barrelled towards her. They collided in a hug, laughing delightedly. "Girls!"

"We are together again!" said Candy. She then glanced at Dipper's amused expression and added quickly, "And we are happy to see you too!"

"You don't need to lie. I know who the favourite is," said Dipper dismissively.

"It's pretty obvious," said Grenda jokingly, punching the boy in the shoulder.

Pacifica and Gideon walked over and Dipper grinned. "Bet you two are the happiest to see us."

"Can't you see it in my face?" drawled Pacifica, managing to maintain her indifferent expression.

"It's always a delight to see Mabel. I could do without ya," said Gideon with a smirk.

"I missed you losers too," said Dipper with a laugh. He exchanged a fist bump with Gideon and went to give Pacifica a hug, but hesitated. Pacifica stepped forwards and wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him a quick embrace before moving back.

"It's nice to have you both back," she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest and fighting back a blush.

Mabel gave both Gideon and Pacifica a hug, squealing happily. Robbie sauntered over, hands slung in his pockets. "Dork Tree," he sneered, giving the boy a noogie. "Star Shine." He gave Mabel's hair a light ruffle. "Can't believe you actually came back."

"Hey kids!" said McGucket, swooping the twins into a hug. "Welcome back!"

"Thanks for the party," said Dipper, glancing around at his friends, heart swelling with warmth. "You didn't have too."

"Any excuse to party, we'll take it. Besides, you deserve it. We've been waiting months for you to come back," said Wendy.

"Guess you dudes beat Mr. Pines and Mr. Pines," said Soos. "We haven't seen them yet."

"All right, we won." Mabel high-fived Dipper. "But I hope they get here soon. I really really can't wait to see them."

"Just like Grunkle Stan to make us wait," quipped Dipper.

"You can bring your luggage inside," offered Soos. "The attic is all ready."

"Thanks. Where will you and Abuela sleep?" asked Mabel.

"We will have our old house. We'll stay there for the summer. No biggie. I kinda missed living there, actually."

"Okay, we'll be back. Don't party without us!" ordered Mabel.

They made their way through the crowd, shaking hands, accepting backslaps and hugs from the townspeople who stepped forwards to welcome them back to Gravity Falls. Waddles wound around people's feet and scampered after the twins. They stepped over the threshold of the Mystery Shack and they were immediately assaulted with familiar scents, a mustiness and woodsy aroma that brought back a slew of memories.

"We're here," whispered Mabel. "We're actually here."

"Race you upstairs!" challenged Dipper.

They tore through the house and all the way up to the attic, where Mabel burst open the door. They stared at the two beds sitting almost side-by-side, a nightstand sitting between them. Mabel spun in a circle, letting out a sigh of contentment.

"Just like we left it, bro. Splinters and all."

Dipper dropped his bags on the bed and flopped back on the mattress, grunting when Waddles hopped onto his stomach before rolling off. "Is the Invisible Wizard still in the closet?"

Mabel wandered over and opened the door. "Hello?" she asked, waving a hand in the empty space. "Nope, don't think so. Too bad. He's going to miss one heck of a party."

They started back downstairs, pausing in the living room at the sound of the back door clicking shut. Glancing at one another, they moved towards the kitchen, where two very familiar figures came into view. With an ear-piercing shriek and eyes misting over with happy tears, Mabel charged forwards and launched into Stan's awaiting arms as Dipper raced over to Ford.

"Dang it, the runts did beat us," laughed Stan, holding Mabel close. "Told you your navigating stinks."

"I'm not the one who lost the map," shot back Ford, running his fingers through Dipper's brown strands. "You're a sight for sore eyes, kids."

"Sorry we're a bit late. Ran into some trouble. And it wasn't me losing the map." Stan set Mabel down so she could go to Ford and Dipper could step into his embrace. "How was your trip?"

"Tiring, hot and boring," replied Dipper. "But it's worth it."

"Where's Waddles?" asked Ford, glancing around.

"Hope you left him at home," sniffed Stan.

As if on cue, Waddles trotted into the kitchen and went up to Stan, nibbling on the edge of his pantleg. "He missed you," cooed Mabel.

"Don't know why," said Stan gruffly, leaning down to stroke the pig's head.

"Did you see outside? Everyone's here!" exclaimed Mabel. "They're having a party for us!"

"I figured by the number of cars cloggin' the driveway there was something goin' on," said Stan. "That's way we came through the back. Figured there'd be less of a chance of gettin' mobbed before we stick our junk in here."

"Better not keep them waiting," said Ford, setting Mabel to the ground. "I think we've done enough of that."

"Is there food?" asked Stan.

"A ton," confirmed Dipper. "At least three tables."

"Well heck, I'm starved. Let's go greet our adoring public."

Ford linked hands with Mabel and Stan wrapped his arm around Dipper's shoulders. They all knew they would have an entire summer to spend together, to share stories and spend all the time they wanted together. But tonight, they would celebrate their return not only with each other but with their friends, who were just as eager to have them back as they were to be reunited.

The second they stepped outside there was another chorus of cheering, and Soos and Wendy and McGucket hurried forwards to embrace Stan and Ford. There was a lot of excited chatting, good-natured insults and crying (mostly from Soos) and the party soon fell in full swing, pop music pumping through the speakers and laughter ringing throughout landscape.

The magical creatures of Gravity Falls eventually arrived to greet the Pines family for themselves, from the gnomes to the Manotaurs to the unicorns. It was an odd collection of people and creatures, if you were an outsider looking in. But to Dipper and Mabel, it was perfect.

Glass of punch in one hand, his other resting on Dipper's head, Stan listened to Soos speak animatedly, explaining the changes he made to the Mystery Shack with Wendy interjecting every now and then. Ford held Mabel in his lap, a contented smile on his lips.

Though they had been away for months, it was as if they had never left.

"We're home kiddos," spoke Stan quietly, watching as the sun drifted down over the horizon, washing them in a warm orange glow, promising the dawn of another amazing summer. "We're home."

[fereality-indy]

Wendip Week 2017 Fake Relationship

Fake Relationship

June 12th, 2015 Pines Residence Piedmont, California

Dipper say with his back against his wall while his laptop rested on a laptray he bought for Just that reason. He’s animatedly talking to his red headed best friend over Yipe.

“I know you & Paz were planning were planning on coming down next week, but we’ve hit a snag. Mom and Dad found out that Mabel and Pacifica are more than just friends. So they’re saying it wouldn’t be fair to me to allow her girlfriend to come down if I’ll be all alone.” He said with a slight forlorn look.

Wendy’s demeanor didn’t seem to be that much better as she called back over the screen, “Boo. That sucks man. What’s up with that? Wait a minute, when did Mabs and Paz hook up?”

“Last one first,” Dipper replied as he shifted uncomfortably. He really tried to not think too much about Mabel’s romances after she had agreed to go on a date with Chutzpar’s visiting nephew last year. “From what Mabel told me it happened during the going away party last year. Remember when we went up to your spot to watch the evening sky. Well apparently Paz told Mabel she had one more gift for her and told her she wanted to give it to her in private. I had some suspicions when we left, they hugged almost twice as long at the bus than they used to do. But I found out for certain when I accidentally walked in on one of their Yipe conversations.”

Wendy was nearly cracking up over how uncomfortable Dipper looked. “Ah man, you didn’t walk in on them flashing each other did you?”

“No. No, nothing like that.” Dipper’s face cringed at the thought. “No they were just talking about missing each other and Mabel was going on about the kiss and the ones to come. Like I said I had my suspicions, Mabel Hadn’t asked a single guy out this school year and even turned down a couple who asked her.”

“Alright, enough about that” Wendy saId as she pulled her hair back into a pony tail. She was preparing for bed as they talked, she had an early and long day tomorrow as she promised Soos she would work doubles until she left for Piedmont. And now it may not happen. “What’s up with your mom not letting us come down?”

“Mom’s on a ‘Twins need to do everything together’ kick,” Dipper said as he got up and started to get ready himself. with the computer facing away from him, he changed into an A shirt and some flannel patterned sleep shorts. “since she says that we’re going to be split thanks to college in a couple years. So she doesn’t want me to feel left out when Mabcifica goes out on a date.”

Dipper checked himself to make sure he would be decent before he sat back down. “Heck the only way mom would let Paz come down to visit after we found out we wouldn’t be able to make it to Gravity Falls this year is cause I had a friend,” he pointed at Wendy, “who would also want to come down to visit.”

“So it’s not that she doesn’t want Mabel’s girlfriend to come down, she just doesn’t want you to be lonely while they’re doing relationship stuff?” Wendy asked as she began to think about situation.

“That’s about the gist of it.” Dipper said in reply.

Wendy sat there for a moment scratching her chin, before a smile creeped across her face. “Well then we just need to be dating.”

Dipper’s face dropped in shock, “W, w, wait what?”

Wendy snickered at his awkwardness. “Think about it man. All we’ll be doing is hanging like we had planned to do anyways, just your rents will think we’re a couple. It’s perfect. Unless you already have a girl you haven’t told me about.”

Dipper missed the brief flash of concern on Wendy’s face as she added that last bit. As he processed what Wendy was proposing, Dipper’s mind was creating and shooting down arguments as to why this could and couldn’t work. Finally he replied, “No, not girlfriend here. Still batting a negative one thousand.” And under his breath he added “Then again I’ve only asked out one girl.”

“Huh, what was that? ” Wendy asked with a slightly confused look on her face.

“Oh nothing. What about you? No boyfriends I have to worry about being jealous, is there?” Dipper asked, a little worried about the answer even though he had no right to be. She was just his best friend and that was all she ever would be.

“Nah man, free as a bird.” an replied trying to ignore the the voice in the back of her head that was telling her why she was still single.

“Really? I mean there’s no one smart enough to ask you out?” he asked incredulously.

“Oh, I had people asking me out. But they all seemed to act as if I was a trophy to be won and not a person.” Wendy responded with a shrug before she added under her breath, “Besides I have someone I’m waiting to ask me.”

“So, how are we going to do this?” Dipper asked

“We just…” and they spent the rest of the night working out all of the details for the plan

The following morning Dipper informed his family that he and Wendy were actually dating, the only reason that they hadn’t said anything before now was that they were worried about what people would say about the age difference.

Friday June 19th, 2015 Oakland International Airport

Dipper began to slowly pace around the little private terminal awaiting the arrival of his friends. Some how Pacifica had been able get them aboard the company jet for the trip. The company had taken an upturn after a couple of different instances in the the years following Weirdmageddon. The first being several designs (suggested at first and later commissioned) bt the now girlfriend of the owner’s daughter. And secondly there was a slow purchase of a controlling interest in the company but an anonymous purchaser who only operates through an attorney. Slowly the older yes men of Preston Northwest have been getting replaced on the board of directors. But that is a story for another day.

Finally the announcement that the flight had landed was made. According to plan Dipper stayed back slightly behind his parents and sister. He watched as the blonde heiress came into the terminal carrying a shoulder bag and pulling a suitcase almost as big as her five foot six inch frame. He wondered if she had packed to move here instead of just staying for a couple of weeks. She had barely set her bags down with she was glomped upon by Mabel.

He had barely had time to register that when he heard a loud thud and a blur of green and red rushed towards him. He heard her yell “Dude” as she hefted him up in a hug. Even at five foot eleven inches he was still short of her six foot three inch height but he was getting there. With her back towards his parents, he leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek as part of their ruse. They were both blushing at the contact.

“Good to see you princess,” Dipper said as she placed him back on the ground.

“Princess?” Wendy asked with a bemused look on her face.

“Well you are the lumberjack princess of Roadkill County, Oregon.” He said as he pulled away. Then he whispered “Besides I figured a pet name wouldn’t hurt for the two weeks.”

“Alright my 'lil Dork’,” Wendy said with a wink and a smirk, cementing the pet name she was gonna use for him.

She then took his hand and turned to walk towards his family. They got there just as Mabel, who was bouncing with joy (and three shots of extra concentrated Mabel-juice), had finished introducing Pacifica to their parents.

“Mom, Dad, I’d like to introduce my girlfriend Wendy Corduroy.” Dipper said as presented Wendy to his parents.

“Pleased to meet you, sir.” Wendy said as she shook Mr. Pines offered hand before doing the same to Mrs. Pines. “Ma'am.”

“Please,” Mr Pines replied as he looked between the two visiting girls, “Like we told Pacifica here, call us Adam and Elaine.”

“The way the twins talk about the two of you,” Elaine Pines added without missing a beat, “we feel like we already know the two of you.”

Both girls smiled at such a warm reception.

“Well Dipper, my boy. Let’s get these ladies luggage on out to the car so we can get going.” Mr Pines said as he walked over to Pacifica’s bags. He got the shoulder bag with no problem but upon trying to get the rolling suitcase it almost pulled him off of his feet. Bracing it against his shoulder he finally got it going and headed to the door amidst giggling from Mabel, Pacifica, and even Elaine.

Meanwhile Dipper had made his way over to where Wendy had dropped her bags. He grabbed her two duffel bags but as he went to grab her rucksack He felt Wendy’s hand already on it.

“Look dude, I heard what your dad said and I know how much of a gentleman you are but sometimes a lady wants to carry her own stuff. Especially when it has my baby in it,” she said as she moved a flap enough that he saw the handle of her ax. Closing the flap she hefted the rucksack up onto her back and took hold of his closest hand, holding the duffel with him.

As they walked through the doors Wendy stopped at the sight that awaited them.

“Is that a WV Überkreuzung Microbus?” she asked as she stared majestically at it.

“Yep. It’s a Seventy-One. It’s dad’s pride and joy, after me and Mabel that is. He fell in love with the design after one was used in the old 'Whatcha doing, Lookie Loo?’ cartoon and when one came on the market a couple of years ago he snatched it up. Luckily mom was able to talk him out of giving it the paint job for the show.” Dipper said as he looked over at the joy on her face, “With all the seats in it’d fit ten or eleven. Almost everything is either stock or restored to original spects. Well except for adding the seatbelts and the engine. It’s a Grunkle Ford and McGuket special. We could drive from here to Denver and back on a single tank of gas. Ford is trying to talk Stan into putting one in the Stanley Mobil, but he doesn’t trust it.”

Wendy turned towards him as she released his hand. she grabbed him by the shoulders as she said, “Please tell me you’re gonna inherit it.”

With a smile and a chuckle he said “Maybe.” as he led her to back of the van and loaded the luggage before shutting the hatch.

They ended up eating at Madam Kee’s House All You Can Eat Buffet. Pacifica at sceptical at first but after talking in Mandarin with the owner.

Over the next couple of days Dipper showed Wendy around Piedmont, spent a day at a fun complex with Mabel and Pacifica playing minigolf and going go-carting, had a picnic lunch at the park (where he nearly got into a fight with Jimmy Riva until Wendy intervened), tried to sit through an episode of 'Rink Of Love’ (an anime Mabel and Pacifica both were fans of, Wendy and Dipper left to go for a walk half way through the episode), and tonight is bad movie night.

They were watching 'Hello Daddy, Where’s Mummy?’, and in keeping with the subterfuge Wendy was leaning into his shoulder while he had his arm around her. Mabel and Pacifica stayed through the first part of the movie, but lost interest in part due to the running commentary coming from them.

About twenty minutes or so after the others left Wendy leaned forward and grabbed her can of Mr Tubbs Root Beer. She then snuggled right back into the spot she left. As she got comfortable she sighed to herself, “I could get used to this.”

Without thinking Dipper kissd the top of her head. She turned slowly moved towards him.

“Wendy?” he questioned as he got lost in her forest green eyes.

“Dipper, don’t question it.” she said as she leaned forward and placed her lips upon his.

“What’s happening here?” Dipper asked as he was coming up for air after the kiss.

“Nothing that we apparently didn’t want to happen.” Wendy replied as she looked into his chocolate brown eyes.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel as…” he started before she placed a finger on his lips.

“Don’t over think this dork. I want this and I want you. now shut up and kiss me.” Wendy said before he did just that.

After a couple of minutes of making up for lost time they heard a loud “Ahem.” They broke apart and looked at the direction the noise came from. Standing in the doorway was Mabel and Pacifica. Mabel looked ecstatic, while Pacifica seemed to have a look on her face that said 'finally’.

“Well it looks like they have stopped pretending,” Pacifica stated with a smirk as she watched the new couple pull apart.

“What do you mean pretending?” Dipper sputtered out, “We’ve been dating for as long as you two have.”

“Bro-bro, seriously. You’re not that good of an actor.” Mabel said as she lifted a hand up to stop him. “The only reason you were able to fool those outside of this household is because of how you two actually felt about each other.”

“Wait a minute Mabel.” Wendy said as she looked over at her two friends, “ You mean your parents know?”

“Oh course we do dear,” Elaine Pines replied as she walked up behind her daughter, “she came to me when she first put together this little matchmaking scheme. Though it surprised us all when Dipper came down last Saturday morning and told us you two were dating. Mabel was going to suggest that you two pretend to date so she could see her girlfriend. But you guys wanted to see each other so much that you came up with the idea on your own. That was when I first gave Mabel’s idea some credence.”

“So do I get to call it?” Mabel asked practically bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Well I’m willing to try it out if she is,” Dipper said as he looked at the beautiful woman in his arms, “So what do you say Wendy, would you like to try going out for real?”

“Of course man, I’ve just been waiting on you to ask.” Wendy said with a smirk as Dipper smiled.

“Squee,” Mabel squeed before with a fistpump she called out, “Match Made!”

“Alright Mabel, but do us a favor please. We just figured this all out, so please for now don’t tell anyone.” Wendy asked her new boyfriend’s sister.

“Ok.” Mabel said as she started to walk away.

“And that means Candy and Grenda too.” Dipper called after his sister.

“My girls need to know, bro-bro. Heh, that rhymes.” she called back.

“Mabel!” Dipper and Wendy yelled simultaneously.

“Alright I’ll keep quiet for now.” Mabel said as she headed away with Pacifica in tow.

“Well I’ll leave you two to your movie. Don’t do anything to make me regret leaving you two alone.” Elaine Pines said as she headed back towards the kitchen.

After they were alone Wendy looked deep into Dipper’s eyes and only saw love. “Why don’t we continue where we left off.”

And she leaned in for another kiss as the movie continued on.

[homedesignlog-blog]

25 Relaxing Mid-Century Outdoor Spaces

WITH THE EXCEPTION OF the interior, we also wish to have an area open air had been we will rest and spend some time with nature round us. it will certainly be nice to have another space where you'll bond along with your circle of relatives or even entertain visitors. it will no doubt cause them to really feel extra relaxed and it is going to even be a nice position for them to de-stress. now we have collated photographs of varied out of doors areas already and we have some other record for you to check for extra inspiration. This time, we have an inventory of mid-century out of doors areas for you to get some ideas to your personal area. it is actually just a topic of good planning and the variability of furnishings layout that you'll be able to use in it. The Usage Of simple furniture is already sufficient after which see to it that you just do neatly with the association and alternatives of plants, stones and others. Don’t omit to add a fireplace pit or a fire position to carry heat to the gap. So, here are 25 Mid-Century out of doors spaces in your notion.

Coffman Studio This Is a phenomenal outside area with a green garden and urban walkways. I also like how the curtains had been brought on this area too.

Tara Bussema – Neat Organization and Design This area has grey outdoor furniture that looks great towards a wall painted in Benjamin Moore Amherst Grey siding with Night Horizon on the fascia, brick fireside and block wall.

Scott Basile Pictures Above the brick fireplace is an artistic taking a look design with caged stones. It does look great, proper?

Marc-Michaels Inner Design This outdoor space has wicker chairs for the eating and dwelling areas which appears to be like beautiful towards the white colors of the ground and ceiling to boot because the inexperienced garden.

Hobbs’ Ink A Great simple out of doors that appears very relaxing. The bronze colour match with the windows.

Koch Architects, Inc. Joanne Koch What I Love about this area is the floor that is arranged in a creative method. Isn’t this a romantic area with all of the plants and dramatic lights around it?

Native Son Design Studio Who said string lights are just for holiday decors? you'll also use it so as to add drama to your outdoor house similar to this.

Re: Layout You won’t imagine that this was the ugliest house within the block. After its transformation, it was once named Winner of Piedmont’s Absolute Best Up To Date Rework award.

Darren Patt Construction Except For the architecture of the home, I additionally like the glance of the out of doors area with easy furniture in it.

Ryan Workforce Architects If the former space has pops of pink, this one has inexperienced colors in it that may be used for its cushion.

Mythical Luxury Homes Iron dining set is added in this space with brick pavers. It does glance somewhat conventional but you get hints of mid-century enchantment because of the home.

Studio AR+D Architects I Really Like this! What a few bed room that may be opened to offer you a view of the pool house and surrounding panorama? it might indeed be superb!

The Price Of Architecture A mid-century brand new deck with furniture that is constituted of wood and metal. the mix seems to be nice in here and complements with the structure of the house.

Austin Outside Layout A Close up view of the patio that also has an out of doors kitchen and eating area. it is entire with floating grill and towel space for storing besides.

Rowland Broughton Structure & Urban Layout What introduced entice this area is the fire pit in it to boot as the limestone bricks too.

Jon Luce Builder From the open dwelling space, the outside area can straight away be accessed featuring white graceful furnishings and some bushes too that add extra natural beauty to the distance.

ModShop – L. A., OC, THE BIG APPLE, Palm Springs & Miami This outside area appears to be like very stunning and swish with the prolonged metal from the exterior of the home. The furnishings delivered in it are nice too in black and white colors.

Cornerstone Architects Except For an outside dining area, that is additionally a fair area to figure out. Subject Material selections for the home have been selected in accordance with sustainable criteria to make the world “green.”

Klopf Architecture Those rocking chairs bring a definite beauty to the area and it looks nice with the gray furnishings here too.

Coffman Studio Elevating the deck with rocking chairs and a fireplace pit is a good thought so as to add other levels to the outdoor house.

Lisa Parramore This area features a concrete wall in eggplant-coloured stucco with constructed-in seating that creates an outdoor room for entertaining.

H3K Design I Love the glance of this one with easy white colours and those lovely ornamental walls too.

Michael Tauber Structure This Is an access for a mid-century house and that curved bench totally nailed the glance!

Jennifer Weiss Architecture Eames plastic chairs were brought to this area with mossy brick pavers on the flooring.

Bella Vita Garden Design Those cacti look very nice! looking at this made me love cactus as a result of how pretty all of them glance in combination. Gorgeous, right? i'm certain you will love the above designs especially that almost all of them have a comfortable and stress-free feel. after all, it could be great to have an outside space to spend a while. it might even be very relaxing too to only take a seat with the warmth of the fireplace or the coolness of the waters. And in fact, being attentive to the leaves rustle and being caressed by way of the sweet breeze could give you an attractive feeling. want to have an area like the ones above? Read the full article

[radioactivedelorean]

Family

Ford leaned against the gates beside his brother. They were currently outside the gates of Wildwood Middle School, Piedmont, waiting to pick Dipper and Mabel up from school. They had arrived in California unannounced. They’d docked the Stan O’ War II over in Emeryville and had been picked up by Dipper and Mabel’s parents. Neither party had told the kids they were coming - it was a surprise. It was roughly two months into the school year and two months since the older Pines twins had first set sail on the Stan O’ War. They had decided to pay the kids a visit. Dipper and Mabel’s father, Jason, had been overjoyed to discover that his supposedly ‘dead’ Uncle Stanley was actually still alive and that Ford was here too. It had been a fairly tearful reunion on both parts - Ford had barely met his nephew before and he’d been elated to finally get to know him properly. The younger twins’ mother, Kristen, was really pleased to meet them too.

“What time did Kristen say the kids finished?” Ford looked over at Stan. “Three, wasn’t it?”

Stan checked his watch. “Yeah, they should have been out by now, surely.”

As if on cue, a loud bell rang out across the school grounds and a minute later kids started filing out, meeting up with their parents and friends and leaving. The older Pines twins scanned the sea of children for any sight of Mabel and/or Dipper. After five minutes, Mabel’s familiar cheery voice could be heard over the crowd. Stan and Ford stayed put, waiting for her to get closer. Mabel walked right past them, barely able to see them beyond the taller kids either side of her. She seemed to be looking for her parents.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Stan called.

Mabel whirled round and gasped. A wide smile instantly spread across her face and she ran towards them. “GRUNKLE STAN! GRUNKLE FORD!” She exclaimed, running up to them and embracing both of them in tight hugs. “What are you doing here?!”

“Well, we were passing California and thought we’d come and visit you.” Ford was beaming, hugging her tightly. “We docked the boat over in Emeryville.”

“We couldn’t resist coming to see you,” Stan grinned, lifting Mabel up and embracing her tightly. The little girl wrapped her arms around his neck, giggling.

“It’s so good to see you too! What’s the boat like? Have you found any monsters? Have you found any treasure?!”

“Relax, pumpkin,” Stan chuckled, setting Mabel back down again. “We’ll explain everything when we get home.”

“You’re staying with us?!” Ford didn’t think it was possible for Mabel’s smile to get any bigger, but he was proved wrong. “Really?!”

“Yep,” Ford grinned. “We’ll be staying in the spare room at your place,”

“How long will you be staying?”

“Dunno,” Stan shrugged. “Until your parents get fed up and kick us out.” He smirked.

Ford laughed. “That could either be in an hour or a month.”

“Dipper’s gonna be so happy to see you guys!” Mabel turned round, scanning the crowd for her twin. “When he eventually gets out.”

Ford stood on the tips of his toes to look over the heads of the parents in the crowd. For a moment, he was looking for the familiar blue and white pine tree cap, but then remembered the boy had traded hats with the ginger Mystery Shack employee (Wendy? Was that her name?) before they had left Gravity Falls. Sure enough, he soon spotted the boy amongst the crowd. “Dipper!”

Dipper perked up as he heard his name being called. He frowned. That couldn’t be who he thought it was, could it? No, they were out on the boat - That was until he saw Grunkle Ford’s head above those of the other parents. “Grunkle Ford!” He rushed forward, shoving kids out of the way.

A split second later, Ford had been tackled by the young boy. He laughed, scooping Dipper up into his arms and hugging him tightly. “Good to see you too!”

Dipper laughed, his deerstalker hat lying lopsided on his head, as he wrapped his arms around Ford. “What are you doing here?”

“We were sailing past California and decided to come and see you.” Ford grinned, putting Dipper down beside his sister. “We’ll be staying at your place for a little while.”

“Really?!” Dipper’s reaction mirrored his sister’s. “Wait… we?”

Stanley laughed. “Hey, where’s my hug?”

“Grunkle Stan!” Dipper ran over to the other man, hugging him equally as tightly. “You’re here too?!”

“Course. What, you thought Ford left me on the boat so he could see you all by himself?” Stan chuckled, hoisting Dipper up into his arms for a better hug. “No way was I staying put on the boat!”

“Come on, you guys!” Mabel grabbed Ford’s hand and started dragging him towards where the car was parked. “Let’s go! I’ve got so much cool stuff to show you!”

Ford laughed and looked over his shoulder at Stanley. “Yeah, Stan, come on! I can’t drive, remember?”

Stanley scoffed and put Dipper down, following his brother and Mabel over to where they’d parked their parents’ car (they’d borrowed the family Volvo). “Only because you forgot how to,”

Ford tried to look indignant, which was kind of difficult with a hyperactive thirteen-year-old clinging to his wrist. “Hey! It’s not my fault I didn’t drive for thirty or so years while I was lost!”

Stanley shoved his brother’s shoulder playfully as he caught up to them, Dipper by his side. “Yeah, I know, Poindexter. Those alien cars were too weird, huh?”

“Do you have any idea how difficult they are to steal - I mean operate?” Ford coughed.

Stanley burst out laughing. “You tried to steal one? My brother, Mr Couldn’t-Even-Take-Free-Samples? Didn’t that Sanchez guy ever lend you his car?”

“A) It was a ship, not a car,” Ford held up a finger. “And B) No, he was always the one driving.”

Stanley rolled his eyes as they got to the car. He climbed into the driver’s side. Ford went to open the passenger side door, but Mabel beat him to it. “I wanna sit up front!”

“No fair!” Dipper protested. “You had shotgun on the way here!”

“Did not. You’re lying,” Mabel stuck her tongue out at him.

“Am not!”

“Are to!”

“Am not!”

“Are to!”

Ford gently pushed Mabel out the way and stood in front of the door to the front passenger seat. “Right, how about I get shotgun privilege, since you can’t decide who gets it?”

“No!” Both of the younger twins cried in unison. “That’s not fair!”

“Grunkle Ford Mabel had it on the way here!” Dipper protested.

Ford shrugged. “Maybe I want to sit in the front seat for a change?”

Stanley was laughing. “Just sit in the front, Mabel.” he chuckled. “But Dipper gets shotgun on the next two trips, okay?”

Mabel stuck her tongue out at Dipper again and climbed into the front seat, dumping her school bag on the floor. “Thanks Grunkle Stan!”

Dipper pouted and got into the driver’s side rear seat. Ford sat next to him and pulled his seatbelt on. “It’s alright Dipper. You get shotgun next turn, anyway.”

Dipper smirked. “Okay,”

Stanley started the car and adjusted the rearview mirror. “Seatbelts on?”

“Yes!” The three passengers said simultaneously.

Stan looked in the mirror at his brother. “Was that really necessary?”

Ford crossed his arms, a smug grin on his face. “Yep, now would you just drive?”

Stanley rolled his eyes and put the car into gear before pulling out into the road and heading back towards the kids’ house. Ford leaned back in the seat, one arm around Dipper’s shoulders. Dipper leaned against him. “So,” Dipper said. “What’s the boat like?”

“It’s not bad, actually,” Stan said. “McGucket helped us with a lot of the construction, so as you can imagine it’s got a lot of tech built into it. He somehow managed to invent and then integrate a filtration system that filters all the crud and salt out of the seawater and then even heats it so we can have a functioning shower and taps and everything. That way we don’t have to make frequent stops at ports to have the water tanks refreshed.”

“He also hooked up fully functional solar panels so we could have a constant source of power,” Ford added. “He’s found a way to use the panels to charge a main battery in the boat so that we have power during rainy days too. There are several backup batteries on board too.”

“He even managed to set up a system so that we could have constant phone and internet signal.” Stan said. “The man’s a genius.”

“So you can, like, watch TV and stuff while you’re on the boat?” Dipper grinned. “That’s awesome.”

“Well, no, on account of the fact that we don’t have a television on board,” Ford pointed out. “As much as Stanley wanted to have one, it would use far too much power. We each have a laptop, though, and plenty of books.”

“What! No TV?” Mabel gasped. “How on Earth can you manage without TV?”

Ford laughed. “That’s what Stanley said, but he’s been just fine so far.”

“So far,” Stan emphasised. “Trust me, I’m slowly going insane on that boat what with Ford’s incessant rambling.”

“I do not ramble!” Ford said indignantly. “I have perfectly meaningful conversations with myself!”

“First sign of madness - talking to yourself.” Stan pointed out. “Face it, Poindexter, you’re losing it.”

Ford laughed. “Of course I’m insane if I spent the last two months stuck on a boat with you.”

Stanley glared in the mirror at his brother, only causing Ford to laugh again. “You know I can still throw you overboard in your sleep.”

“I can swim,” Ford crossed his arms. “Plus, I know you wouldn’t throw me over.”

“Could we see the boat?” Mabel asked. “It sounds really cool!”

“Of course! We could take you down after dinner, if you wanted,” Stan offered as he pulled into the driveway. The kids immediately jumped out and ran up to the front door. Ford climbed out, soon followed by his brother. Stanley locked the car and followed the kids up to the front door. Dipper unlocked the door and let them in.

“Mom! Dad! We’re home!” He called.

“Why didn’t you tell us Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford would be here?!” Mabel demanded as her mother came out of the kitchen.

Kristen laughed. “It was meant to be a surprise! They arrived a couple of hours ago.”

Mabel turned and glared at Stan, smirking slightly. “So you told them you were coming but you didn’t tell us?!”

Stan put his hands up in defence, grinning. “Hey, you were happy to see us, weren’t you?”

There was a snort from the kitchen before a small pink blur knocked Stan over and started licking his face. The man laughed and lifted the pig off his chest. “Good to see you too Waddles.”

Ford knelt down and gave the pig an affection scratch behind the ear. Waddles snorted happily before trotting off into the living room. Ford stood back up straight and looked at Kristen. “So you weren’t particularly against having a pig in the house?”

“No, he’s surprisingly well trained,” Kristen looked to where the pig was settling down into a small dog bed. “No mess and he barely leaves hair anywhere.”

Dipper grabbed Ford’s hand and started dragging him towards the stairs. “C’mon Grunkle Ford you gotta see our bedroom!”

“Hold on Dipper,” Ford laughed. “Let me take my shoes off first.” Dipper waited all of thirty seconds while Ford removed his shoes before dragging him up the stairs again. Mabel dragged Stan upstairs too. The kids showed Stan and Ford all their schoolwork, pictures, projects and everything they’d been doing since they left Gravity Falls. Dipper showed Ford a journal he’d been writing in, similar to Ford’s own journals, and Mabel showed Stan all the new sweaters she’d knitted. She presented both of her grunkles with a new sweater each. Ford’s was a deep navy blue with a golden six-fingered hand embroidered on the front. Stan’s was dark red with his ‘Order of the Holy Mackerel’ logo on the front.

At about five o’clock, Kristen called up the stairs. “Dinner’s ready!”

Mabel and Dipper instantly dropped whatever they had been holding and rushed downstairs. Ford and Stan followed them. They sat down at the large dining table in the kitchen just as Kristen was setting down plates of lasagne portions in front of the kids. She gave another plate each to Stan, Ford and her husband before taking her own and sitting down.

“So,” Kristen started. “What sort of things do you eat on the boat?”

“Dried and canned things, mostly,” Ford said. “We’ve got a freezer on board, so we can have frozen meat, veg and fish too, but nothing anywhere near as good as this,” he placed a forkful of lasagna in his mouth.

Stan was wolfing down his food at a rapid pace and nodded. Ford whacked his shoulder. “Stan! Eat properly, not like a pig!”

Waddles gave an indignant snort, causing the family to chuckle. Stan swallowed. “I’m not that bad!”

“At least chew your food, don’t inhale it.” Ford rolled his eyes and kept eating. He looked across the table at the kids. “How was school?”

Dipper seemed to go quiet as Mabel instantly burst into a speech about everything she’d done. “Well, first off in Chemistry we got to make crystals, then in Biology we dissected a kidney, then in Art we got to draw any creature we wanted - I drew Waddles, obviously, and Dipper drew a gnome - then in English we had to write a short story, then in -”

Ford seemed to zone out to what Mabel was saying, more focused on Dipper. The boy had his hands folded in his lap and his head was down, his dinner sitting on the table forgotten. He kept clenching his eyes shut and wiping them with the back of his hand. Ford cleared his throat and put his fork down. “Dipper? How was your day?”

Dipper seemed startled by the question, rubbing his eyes furiously. “Oh, it was… it was fine. Kind of boring, really,”

Ford frowned as the boy kept eating, albeit slowly. He decided not to press the issue any further at the dinner table. Mabel was still excitedly telling her parents all about the story she had written in English. Once they had all finished eating and the kids were excused from the table, Dipper went straight back upstairs. Ford heard him slam the bedroom door shut. Mabel, however, frowned and went into the living room and began watching TV. Waddles trotted after her and sat on the floor in front of the couch.

Ford rose from the table. “Excuse me a moment,” he said, tucking his chair in and heading upstairs to the kids’ room. He knocked on the door gently. “Dipper?”

Ford heard sniffling from behind the door, before a quiet “Come in,” was heard. The man turned the doorknob and let himself in. Dipper was sat on his bed cross-legged and wiping his eyes. Ford closed the door quietly behind him and sat beside the boy.

“Care to tell me what’s wrong?”

Dipper stayed quiet for a moment, thinking. “.. have you ever felt like no matter what, people are still really mean to you, even if they don’t know you?”

Ford bit his lip and weighed his options. He could approach this question in several different ways. He could ask why Dipper felt this way, give a quick laugh and assure the boy that he had, or reassure Dipper that he was a perfectly wonderful young man who didn’t deserve the treatment he was getting. He opted for the straightforward answer. “Yes, unfortunately these -” He held up his hands and moved his extra fingers “- meant that, without even getting to know me first, my classmates treated me horribly.”

Dipper nodded, quietly avoiding Ford’s concerned gaze. He wrung his hands in his lap, biting his lip nervously. “Right… should have guessed that…”

Ford laid a hand on Dipper’s shoulder gently. “Trouble with kids at school?”

The boy nodded, tears stinging his eyes again. “Yeah, they keep picking on me, and calling me mean names,”

“Can I ask what?” Ford asked gently.

“Dipshit, dipstick, starboy and… uh…” Dipper bit his lip harder, almost enough to draw blood. “Freak,”

Ford felt an icy chill go down his spine. He was more than used to hearing others call himself a freak, but to learn that Dipper was also on the receiving end of such insults was sickening. His grip on the boy’s shoulder tightened momentarily. He loosened his grip, pulling Dipper closer to sit in his lap. He shuffled back on the bed, sitting up against the wall. “Di - Mason, can I tell you something?”

Dipper, still unused to hearing his real name from anyone other than his parents, took a moment to answer. “Yeah,”

Ford swallowed and took a deep breath. “When I was growing up, between the ages of four and eighteen, I had a similar experience to yourself. People took one look at my hands and decided that, as I was different, I should be punished. At every opportunity, I was insulted, shouted at, shoved, punched, kicked, beaten and I was frequently the primary target in food fights. After a while, I’d had enough” He held his left hand out in front of Dipper. “See that scar?”

Dipper held Ford’s hand in both of his own, looking at the thin scar running across the knuckle of his sixth finger. “Yeah,”

Ford took another deep breath. “I was fifteen when I did that. I locked myself in the bathroom one evening with a knife and attempted to remove my finger. I thought that maybe, if I got rid of the extra fingers, I could be normal. People would stop picking on me and I could finally get along with my peers.” His hand was shaking slightly, his voice beginning to crack. The memory was still painful. “I was a fool, and if hadn’t been for Stanley, I would have succeeded. He broke the door down and brought me straight to a hospital. He made it absolutely clear to me that removing my extra fingers was not the solution. It took me thirty years drifting through all sorts of interdimensional horror to realise that.”

Dipper was quiet, his mind processing everything that Ford had said. He hadn’t expected his great uncle to confess something like that. His thumb ran absentmindedly back and forth across Ford’s scar. “I sometimes wear make-up,” he eventually said. “To cover up my birthmark. I use Mom’s foundation. That’s why I always used to wear my pine tree hat, ‘cause it pushed my hair down over my forehead so nobody would see it.” The boy turned around so he was sitting facing Ford. “I don’t like wearing makeup, but it’s the only thing that stops them laughing at me. They laugh at me for wearing makeup, too,”

Ford sighed quietly, pulling Dipper into a hug. He laid his chin on top of Dipper’s head. “It’s tough,” he said quietly. “Especially when it’s not something like a person’s weight, which can be altered with some effort.”

He felt Dipper tremble in his arms and felt something wet seeping into the top of his shirt. He stroked Dipper’s back gently. “It’s okay… shh… it’s okay…”

Dipper laid his cheek against Ford’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. Ford lifted his sleeve to dry the boy’s tears. Ford ran all six of his fingers through his nephew’s hair soothingly. “It’s going to be alright, Mason. I know your classmates’ behaviour may tell you otherwise, but the biggest supporter of you is yourself.” He kissed the top of Dipper’s head gently. “You’ve always got Mabel too. You’ve always got your twin by your side, which is more than can be said for some people.”

Dipper nodded, wiping his nose on a tissue. “Yeah, I guess. She’s got so many friends, though. I don’t want to be a burden on her.”

Ford squeezed Dipper’s hand. “I felt the same way when I was at school. My brother had the potential to have a lot of friends, but he constantly spent his time keeping bullies away from me. He could have been very popular if it hadn’t been for the fact that he was protecting me. But let me tell you something: he wouldn’t change his actions for the world. You can ask him - he doesn’t regret any of it. I’m sure Mabel would be more than happy to spend time with you.”

Dipper smiled. “Thanks, Grunkle Ford.”

Ford smiled. He turned Dipper round to face him. “Besides, I’m sure you remember some of those curses from the journals. If people continue to give you trouble, have at it.”

Dipper laughed and hugged his uncle. “Thanks Grunkle Ford, seriously.”

Ford hugged him back and ruffled his hair. “No problem. Now, what do you say we got and get some ice cream from the parlour down the road?”

Dipper smiled and got to his feet, pulling Ford up off the bed. “Sure.”

——

Forduary Week 4: Family