#Sorry I didn’t include Stevens stickers

[disconnectedkid]

Doomed old man yaoi or smth

I have school work to go do, and this drawing KICKED MY ASS, so yeah

@ask-steven-stevenson

I drew them again :p

[killercarmen]

Chapter two is up!

Steven went back into the gift shop and sought out Mister Myster.

He found him in the back of the gift shop, talking to a boy, and handing him a bunch of signs. He pointed at the door and the boy walked out.

“Excuse me,” Steven said, getting the man’s attention.

He turned around and smiled at him.

“Welcome back, my good sir! What can I help you with?” He asked.

“Well, I saw your sign,” Steven pointed at the help wanted sign in the window, “and was wondering if the position was still open.”

Mister Mystery nodded his head, “Yep! That spot is most definitely still opened. And if you want the job, you’re hired! You’re the first person to ask,” he turned and motioned for Steven to follow him. Steven followed him to what looked like his office, and sat in the chair in front of his desk.

“So what’s your previous job experience like?” Mister Mystery asked, rifling through some files in a cabinet by his desk.

“Well, uh,” Steven looked around nervously. How do you explain to a human that you were a galactic ambassador for two years of your life?

“Um, I was a sales clerk at a donut shop,” was all Steven was able to say. All of his other ‘professions’ were wrapped in gem stuff, and this road trip was about being human.

“Got experience in customer service I see, perfect,” Mister Mystery closed the cabinet he was looking in and opened the one below it, “now where is that stupid paperwork,” he muttered.

Just then, Steven remembered.

“Uh, so, the thing is, I don’t have a social security number. Is that okay?” He asked.

Mister Mystery looked up at him before closing the drawer he was looking in and smiled, “Kid, that’s perfect, less paperwork for me,” he held out his hand, “You’re hired!”

Steven smiled wide. He just got his first paying job! And it was a lot easier than he’d thought. He shook Mister Mystery’s hand.

“Thank you, Mister Mystery!”

Stan smiled, “Please, calls me Mr. Pines.”

Steven nodded, “Okay, thank you Mr. Pines!”

And with that, Steven became an official staff member of the Mystery Shack

—————

Steven got back into his car, buzzing with excitement. This was going to be his first job that didn’t include gems, and he was ready for it. Mr. Pines said he would mainly just be working the gift shop, trying to get customers to ‘empty their pockets,’ as he put it. Which seemed simple enough to Steven. He turned on the ignition and realized he had no place to stay for the summer. Maybe he can find a room to rent somewhere in town tomorrow, but tonight he had to find a motel. He pulled up maps on his phone, and searched up motels in the area. As Steven drove off towards his destination, the Mystery Shack faded into the distance, and disappeared as he rounded a corner. He made it to the motel, got a room, and sat on the bed. Tomorrow would be his first real day of work; work at a museum for the weird. Steven laughed at that. He knew first hand what was ‘weird’ to humans, and the idea that he, probably the weirdest thing on earth, would be working there gave him a chuckle. He turned off the lights and crawled into bed. This would certainly be an interesting summer.

The next morning, Steven woke up early. His excitement for what the first day of work would bring woke him up around 7 am. He spent a couple of hours searching online for rooms for rent, and had no luck. It seemed like there was no place to rent in all of Gravity Falls. He frowned, unsure of how to proceed. He’ll just have to stay at the motel until he can figure out what to do. At 9 am, his alarm went off, signaling to him that his shift would start in 30 minutes. He took a quick shower, ate breakfast, and headed out to the Mystery Shack.

Steven was buzzing with excitement as he walked through the door into the Mystery Shack gift shop. It was empty aside from Stan and a red headed girl, who sat behind the register.

“Welcome back, kid,” Stan said, giving him a little wave, “This is Wendy, she’s gonna train you.”

Stan pointed at the girl behind the register, and she gave Steven a little wave. Steven waved back. She stood up and walked over to him and Stan.

“Sup, I’m Wendy,” she said, giving Steven a welcoming smile.

“I’m Steven, Steven Universe,” he held out a hand to Wendy. She shook it.

“That’s an epic last name, did you have it changed or was that your parents’ name?” Wendy put her hands back into her jean pockets.

Steven scratched the back of his neck.

“Well, it’s my dad’s last name, but he had it changed. He was a musician and he thought Greg Universe sounded better than Greg DeMayo.”

Wendy frowned, “Greg Universe? Why does that sound familiar?”

“Well, he was a musician, maybe you heard one of his songs?” Steven suggested.

“Hm, maybe? But I feel like it’s something else…” she shrugged, “I’ll think of it later. But now I gotta tell you how to do stuff.”

Wendy proceeded to spend the next 2 hours teaching Steven how to run the gift shop. He got a little stuck on the register, but by the end of the 2 hours, he put in charge. Well, technically Wendy was still in charge, but she was sitting on the ground reading a magazine while Steven manned the register.

“If you have any questions, I’m right here,” she said before settling down to read her magazine.

Business was pretty slow, but that was a given considering it was a Monday. A few people had come through, but they mainly bought mugs and bumper stickers. Steven managed to sell a shirt, but that was the biggest purchase all day and it was already 3 pm. Steven drummed his fingers against the countertop of the cash wrap, trying to tap a tune to keep himself entertained. He found himself drumming the tune to Working Dead by Sadie Killer and the Suspects. It’s been a while since he has talked to them. He should call them after work. He started humming the lyrics, forming the song with the tapping of his fingers.

“Dude, are you humming Working Dead?”

Steven looked towards the floor to see Wendy looking at him.

“Yeah, I am. It’s a fun song.”

A huge smile formed on her face, “I love Sadie Killer and the suspects! Their music is so good, and I love their whole vibe!”

“I know right! Fun fact, that song was created while we were watching horror movies in Sadie's basement!” Steven smiled at the fond memory.

“Wait,” Wendy stood up, “We, what do you mean by we? You were there?”

Steven nodded, “Yeah! We were watching The Lurch and Sour Cream liked the background music, so he started mixing, adding drum beats and stuff, then Jenny started playing her bass, and I joined on the electric guitar. Buck joined on his acoustic guitar and then we just needed lyrics. Sadie had just gotten off of work, so she started singing about it. And boom! Working Dead was born, and Sadie Miller became Sadie Killer. And that’s how the band formed.”

Wendy’s mouth was agape and she looked stunned.

“You… were there… oh my god,” her eyes widened as she realized something, “your dad is Greg Universe! Their manager! I knew that name sounded familiar.”

Steven gave a little laugh, “That he is. He has some experience in ‘show biz.’”

Wendy pulled out her phone, “I’m soooo telling my friends about this,” she sat back down on the floor and started texting.

The next few minutes passed in silence, with only the faint clicks of a keyboard to break it. But that silence is broken by a shriek. Steven stood up quickly, worried that someone might be in trouble. Suddenly, a girl runs into the gift shop, followed by a boy. They both looked pretty young; probably only around 12. The girl was laughing, holding something in her hand as the boy chased her.

“Mabel! Give it back!” The boy yelled

“Come and get it then!”

The boy tackled the girl and they wrestled on the ground as the boy tried to grab the item. The girl locked eyes with Steven and shouted, “Catch!” before throwing the object at him. Steven caught it effortlessly and saw that it was an almost solved Rubik’s cube. Steven looked up from it to see the boy on the other side of the counter.

“Can I Please have that back? I’m so close to solving it,” the boy said.

Steven smiled at him before handing it back.

The girl, who he presumed was Mabel, pouted, “You’re not supposed to give it back to him!”

Steven shrugged, “Sorry.”

The boy scowled at his sister before looking back at Steven, “Thanks! I’m Dipper by the way, and this is Mabel,” he pointed at the girl.

“Whomp whoooomp,” she said.

Steven smiled and gave them both a little wave, “Hi! I’m Steven, nice to meet you.”

Wendy popped up from behind the counter.

“Hey Mabel, hey Dipper,” she turned to face Steven, “these are Mr. Pines’s twin great niece and nephew. They’re staying here for the summer.”

Steven looked back to see Dipper working on the Rubik’s cube while Mabel stared at him.

“That sounds like fun. I’m going to be staying in Gravity Falls for the summer too! Although, I have yet to find a place to stay.”

He looked at Wendy to see he had started texting again, “Um, Wendy?”

She doesn’t look up from her phone, “Yeah?”

“Know any places in town that are renting? Right now I’m staying in the Moonlight All-Night Motel,” Steven asked.

Wendy shook her head, “Not that I’m aware of.”

Mabel’s face lit up, “You can rent a room here!”

Steven twiddles his thumbs, “Uh, I don’t want to impose…”

“Pfft,” Mabel waved her hand dismissively at him, “It’s no big deal! I’ll ask Grunkle Stan right now!”

Before Steven could protest, she ran behind a door that said ‘Employees Only.’

Dipper sighed, “I’ll go talk to her.”

And with that, the twins had both left the gift shop. Steven mulled over the idea of staying at the Mystery Shack over the summer. He would certainly be closer to work, and it was better than the motel for sure.

‘If Mr. Pines says yes to Mabel, then maybe, but for now, I should get back to work,’ Steven thought just as a group of tourists came into the gift shop.

———

As Steven cleaned up the shop, preparing to close, Mr. Pines walked in.

Stan gives Steven a pat on the back, “Wendy tells me you did a good job! Congrats on your first day of work. Now, just because you did good today, doesn’t mean you get to slack off. I already got one lazy teenager, I don’t need another one. Wait, how old did you say you were again?”

“Eighteen,”

“Okay, so still a teenager, I was right,” Stan muttered.

He frowned, appearing to be deep in thought.

Steven waited for him to say something. When he didn’t, Steven went back to sweeping.

“Mabel tells me you don’t have a place to stay,”

Steven turned around to see Stan looking at him,

He laughed nervously, “Yeah, I rolled into town only yesterday. And I tried looking online this morning to see if there were any places nearby that were renting, but I couldn’t find anything.”

Stan smiled, “Well, there's a room open in this very house! Rent is only... $300 a month.”

Steven mulled it over. He’d only be staying here for around three months, and so $300 times 3 would be.. $900. He’d have to ask his dad to give him some more cash, but he has enough for at least one month.

Steven nodded, “Sound good, I can do that.”

Stan smiled. This kid was loaded!

“Great! Come back here with your stuff while I have the room prepped. Soos!” Stan yelled.

The ‘Employees Only’ door opened and in walked in who Steven suspected was the handyman, judging by the tool belt he wore.

“Sup Mr. Pines? Whatcha need?”

Stan gestured towards Steven.

“Get the spare room prepped for someone to live in, I’m letting this kid rent it.”

“Will do Mr. Pines!” With that, Soos turned and walked back through the door he came from.

Stan turned back towards Steven.

“The room will probably be ready in 30 minutes, be back by then. You can leave now.”

Steven nodded, “Will do!”

Steven put the broom away before waving a goodbye to Stan and fussing out the door. He hurried back to his motel room, and packed him. This summer was already off to a great start, and he was ready for everything else it would bring.

[bungod-hearth]

I adore your swap AU & had some questions if that is OK. 1: Did Luz have any trouble with Eda's parents in letting her move in? 2: Is she still friends & got a similar relationship to canon with Gus & Willow? 3: What's her Palisman, Owlbert or does she have an original? 4: does she have a portal to the human world or are both she & Belos looking for that? 5: Does she have any Glyph jewelry, or still utilize mostly paper & her staff? 6: Would she defeat then befriend those trying to arrest her XD

Hey there!! I'm glad you liked it so much you got curious and I'm more than happy to answer!💕💕

I'll put everything under the cut cause it's long as fuck sorry

1- that's something I'm actually working through! Since we still don't know basically anything about Eda's family and how they reacted after the curse (except for Lilith obviously), Eda kind of runs away from home after getting cursed, looking for this mysterious lonely witch who knows a different way to use magic, but I'm still not sure if she actually comes back home to tell her parents she has a mentor that could help her or if she leaves that duty to Lilith after assuring her she's gonna be okay with Luz (because Lilith will absolutely be the first to look for and also find Eda). I'm mostly imagining her parents as lively- cause both Eda and Lily have quite the temper even if Lily tries to hide it- but still somewhat attached to the rules and traditions given by the Emperor, and having your most talented child cursed in a way that hinders her magic in a world where magic is literally everything... yikes. But the idea of her finding someone who could actually help her even if not through a cure for the curse could be something easy to accept all things considered, despite living far from them. This part is still a work in progress, but maybe we'll get more info on the Clawthorne parents next season!

2- Willow and Gus are definitely still Luz best friends and they got to know each other in a very similar manner as in canon! Luz still found her way into Hexside when she got on the Boiling Isles and they all went to school together. Same goes for Amity, Bosha, Skaara, Viney etc..., but in particular the relationship with Amity takes longer to develop also cause I’m a sucker for slowburn

3- Owlbert is still Eda's palisman and she'll get him while under Luz's tutelage! Luz instead has her own staff, but I'm deciding on the palisman itself cause there's several options:

no Palisman, only magical staff that's a bit weaker than others due to that, because Luz still doesn't feel like she deserves it as a "real" witch/doesn't have such a connection with the Isles like others born there/didn't felt particularly drawn to any creature and decided to wait. But she gets her Palisman as well later, influenced by Eda: a snowy owl, an ashy-faced owl, or a burrowing owl. Snowy Owl -> mostly bc fitting Azura's white aesthetic Ashy Faced Owl -> I think the most well known owl species of the Dominican Republic, with its peculiar gray colored face Burrowing Owl -> have you seen these guys they're damn adorable and tinyyyyyy- (also another species found in the Dominican Republic actually)

A black cat Palisman, since they're the most common and stereotypical symbol for witches and it would totally be in character for Luz to go "uehuehe kitty". Also because of her hoodie if yall want to count that.

A black dog/hound, one of the goddess Hecate sacred animals, the one representing loyalty obviously and the emotive part of magic and energy. In general I think dogs fit Luz well tho.

Some... mystical or mythological creature of some kind? Cause Luz realizes she can go hogwild with her palisman and thus frees her imagination.

Otter. With a dark side ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

4- the portal to the human world got lost in some way after Luz arrived in the Boiling Isles! That's why she's stranded there and hasn't seen her mom in more than 25 years :) I don't have the details yet since, again, we have so little information on the portal itself! Why in canon Eda's the one who has it? Was it in her parents possession or she found it in the Night Market or something? Where does it come from originally?? Hell if we know. This obviously becomes a bit of a problem for my au cause it influences how Luz arrived in the Isles in the first place. Could it be a random human treasures smuggler who accidentally brought her there? Did the Emperor/Emperor's Coven had it and things got out of hand? Or maybe the Clawthorne, or even the Blight family, got it? The only thing I'm sure of is that yes, both Luz and Belos are actively looking for it, for different reasons of course, and that hypothetically in the au story it will jump up again, and there will be drama and angst.

5- Luz definitely upgraded her glyph craft!! She experimented and honed both glyphs and skills through the years, finding new glyphs, different combinations, variations and applications, and is now super prepared, enough to keep up with the Emperor's coven squads that try to capture her- and Amity. She kind of adapts to the situation so her equipment isn't every day 100% the same, but the casting methods are similar: carved jewelry and accessories, embroidered fabrics, runestones, she even made her own (mono use) stickers! Naturally, these objects aren't infinitely durable and using them consumes them physically and energetically, but depending on the material and size they vary in durability and power. Though, the trusted notepad and pencil are always there in some pocket, along with some already-drawn papers for emergencies. She also got a couple of tattoos that include glyphs, one of which is a light spell, obviously, but it's a more risky way of casting since it uses her own physical energy, so the glyphs themselves are small. Both Gus and Willow got one as well! and Amity too but it's technically a secret

6- oh you know she will lmao I mean, she's not Steven Universe, but she is observant and a good person, and understands that sometimes certain situations, events, upbringing and generally education cough Emperor propaganda cough bring people to do bad stuff. This won't stop her from smacking to the ground and eventually punch if she runs out of glyphs whoever tries to hurt her or her loved ones. If they show regret and/or understand what they're doing is wrong, changing their ways, she might concede her forgiveness, but otherwise they're gonna eat the dust. I think she knows every member of Amity's squad by name tho?? And she kinda has fun escaping law, so the fights can go like "Hey Steve, I heard you're a dad now! Congrats dude!! If you want I can make you explode a little so you can stay home and play with the baby beast!" or "Wait, you guys don't even have dental?? You should have told me, I would have aimed lower!"

With Amity is a whole other thing, the romantic tension between them is so thick the rest of the team feels like they're intruding something every time for f sake

Whew, I think I answered everything? Thank you for taking interest in this little thing of mine! I also have answered another couple of asks about the au before, you can to check out the toh swap au tag on my blog if you want!

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Sixty-Five

A/N: If you didn't see my post yesterday, I decide to break this chapter into 2 chapters. The preview for this chapter is included in the next chapter.

Words: 3.7k

Warning(s): Explicit language, mentions of drug abuse

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LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED

I blink my eyes open to see Izzy standing over me, my brows furrowing at the sight of him, confusion filing into my mind.

“Izzy.” I croak out, closing my eyes again for a moment.

“Viv.” He replies.

"What're you doing here?" I groan, tiredly.

"A girl I hooked up with last night lives in this neighborhood." He tells me. "Karen let me in."

“Of course she did.” I mumble, sitting up with another groan, and he sits on the floor next to me, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket, lighting it.

“So, like, what happened?” He asks me, looking around at the shithole mess I made last night and I lick my cracked lips, feeling the tightness of dried, mascara coated tears that have glued to my face, and let out an exhausted breath.

“You ever walk into your house and wonder ‘exactly how many surfaces did my husband and his mistress possibly have sex on’?”

“Nope.” He replies, blowing out smoke, and I glance at him.

“Well, that’s what happened.” I reply, sighing. “I thought I was doing good, Izzy. I really thought we were getting better. And we weren’t. It was all bullshit.”

“Trust me, Viv, I’ve fucking been there.” He mumbles.

“I gave her a key to my house.” I repeat what I told him earlier and he looks at me for a moment, looking as if he doesn’t quite know what to say. “I might as well have just handed him over to her and said, ‘he’s yours, have at it’.” I add, letting out a chuckle, although it’s not funny. “I’m not like her. I act nothing like her. I haven’t accomplished as much as she has. I’m not established like she is. I look nothing like her--”

“--She’s a ten but the drugs make her a five. And her being batshit crazy knocks her down to a solid two...on a good day. You’re a ten. Your niceness adds two points, your patience adds two more points, and your crazy is hot, which adds five more points. So technically you’re a seventeen. Don’t compare yourself to a fucking crack addict when there’s barely anything left of her to compare to.” He orders sternly, and I push a strand of hair behind my ear. “And the only thing she can say she’s got on you, is screwing your husband, and she brags about it because strung out Nikki Sixx is obviously a prize.” He sarcastically states and I smile a little. “He didn’t cheat because you weren’t enough, Viv. He cheated because he’s fucking stupid and the drugs just add to it. I assure you, if you were ugly or something, none of us would wanna fuck you. But we do.”

“Gee, thanks, Izzy.” I flatly say, furrowing my brows slightly, and he nudges me with his elbow.

“You’re a seventeen.” He reassures me, smiling.

“See, this is what I would’ve appreciated hearing the other night.” I inform him.

“I was an ass the other night.” He admits. “I’m sorry for yelling at you...and there’s nothing wrong with you not picking up on our hints that something was wrong. You just see the best in people sometimes when they’re fucking shitty, is all.”

“Trust me I’ve learned my lesson.” I scoff.

“No, don’t let this bullshit ruin a good thing. You can still see the good in people and try to be positive about them, just use a little discernment from now on.” He shrugs and I wipe my eyes as he takes another drag of his cigarette.

“Did we just have a moment, Izzy?” I ask, and he furrows his brows and looks at me.

“No.”

“I think we did.”

“No, we didn’t.”

“I think we did. I think we just got a little closer in our friendship.”

“Nope, I don’t think so.”

“We did.”

“We didn’t.”

“I love you and I’m glad we’re friends.”

He just looks at me, trying not to smile, before getting a serious look on his face.

“It’ll be okay, Viv.” He assures me, genuinely, and I nod.

“I know it will be, I’m just kinda scared to go through the hell I’m gonna need to go through in order to get to the ‘it’s okay now’ part.”

“I know you are.” He tells me, exhaling more smoke. “I know you are.” 

That’s the thing about Izzy: a raging jackass when he wants to be, and quiet for the most part, but when he gets serious about something, it’s genuine and hard to ever forget.

Once Izzy decides to go home, I’m staring at the letter from Playboy, eyeing the number left at the bottom of the page for their project manager.

“Just call and see what they say.” I tell myself, taking a deep breath, my palms starting to sweat.

I dial the number and it rings a few times before someone picks up.

“Playboy Enterprises, this is Erika.”

I convince myself to calm down and ease the nerves bunching in my stomach before I reply.

“Y-Yes, this is Vivian Sixx. I got a letter from you guys?”

“Yes, they’ve been hoping you would call. Give me a moment and I’ll transfer your call to our PM.” She tells me.

“Okay, thank you.”

I wait for a moment as the line cuts out, before it cuts back in again.

“Mrs. Sixx?” Another woman’s voice greets me.

“Yes?”

“This is Danielle Wyther, I’m the one that sent you the letter.” She explains.

“Oh.”

“I take it you’ve made your decision.” She says next and I let out a little sigh, hesitantly giving an answer.

“I’m not comfortable doing full nudity--I mean, I don’t have an issue being nude but, like, I want the important parts covered.” I’m saying before I can stop myself, and I furrow my brows and mouth “what the fuck” to myself for being so blunt.

“...We didn’t expect anything different from you, Vivian, no worries.” She tells me and I let out a relieved breath. “We’ve already prepared for more tasteful photos.”

She goes on to tell me when I need to meet with her to sign my contract of payment and a temporary NDA ensuring I won’t let it out to the public I’m posing until they decide to announce it themselves, and then we go over when I need to come to Chicago to shoot.

Once a date is set to meet, and for the photoshoot itself, we hang up and I turn around to see Karen holding a cup of coffee, wearing her bedroom shoes due to the glass on the floor that I need to clean up.

“You didn’t hear that.” I tell her.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” She replies, obviously knowing what I’m talking about, but clearly not in a hurry to tell Nikki about it.

She just raises her brows and takes a sip of her coffee, minding her own business. 

After breakfast, I try to clean up the best I can, not even necessarily wanting to go to my room to grab a change of clothes and shower once I'm done, but I do. 

I'll just leave our room a shitshow for him since we're coming back for a five day break in like a week anyway. 

I shower and change clothes, grabbing my car keys.

"Where are you going?" Karen asks me.

"To see Sharise and Sky, and then I’m going out with the guys before I get home.” I tell her.

“Alright, be careful.”

“I will.”

I knew Karen wouldn’t say a thing to Nikki about Playboy, and she honestly never said a thing to me about it...but I could tell she didn’t necessarily agree with my decision, because nobody really agreed with it, they tolerated it.

In all honesty they all thought I had lost my mind, finally, because I was Vivian. Goody-goody, Christianly, worst-thing-ever-done-was-marry-someone-my-mother-didn’t-approve-of, Saint Vivian.

“Yes, I’m sure about it, Sharise.” I tell her, Skylar sticking a unicorn sticker to my face, making me smile at her as Sharise raises her brows at me.

“But you’ll be n-a-k-e-d.” She spells out so Skylar won’t catch on. “A-s-s and b-o-o-b-s out. For everyone to see.”

“Not really, everything’s gonna be covered.”

“Barely.”

“But still covered, nonetheless.” I argue.

“Do you want me to go with you?” She asks next.

“I wanna go!” Skylar says, looking at her mom, not even knowing where exactly we’re going, but wanting to tag along.

“No, I’ll probably have Duff or Steven go with me.” She tell her and she raises her brows.

“Oh...Duff...okay…”

“What?” I ask, furrowing my brows a little and she holds back a tight-lipped smile, shaking her head and shrugging.

“Nothing, Viv. Nothing at all. It’s just...you know…”

“...What exactly do I know?” I question.

“You know what you know.” She says back, matter-of-fact, and I think a moment before scoffing out.

“Oh, puh-lease, Sharise.” I hold back a bark of laughter.

“You know where I’m getting that idea, too.” She states and I shake my head.

“You are crazy.”

“Am I? You’ve just recently been hurt, you’re vulnerable, you’re confused, he’s available and attractive, and a complete gentleman--”

“--Which is exactly why nothing is happening because he’s not going to take advantage of me right now.” I tell her.

“Right now?” She widens her eyes and I sigh. “Ah, so you admit something’s cooking, it’s just not being served at the table at the moment.”

“It’s being poured down the drain because he’s got his own thing and I’ve got mine and neither of us are like that with each other.”

“He broke up with his ‘thing’ earlier this year and yours was just caught with a crack pipe in one hand, a needle in the other, and another woman’s mouth on his d-i-c-k, which sounds like a justified divorce to me.” She says to me, picking Sky up, and I let out a breath...because she’s right.

“Look, just think before you jump into the deep end. Just because there’s room for you to land, doesn’t mean there aren’t sharks waiting for you to dive in.” She warns me and I just nod slowly, rubbing my lips together.

I stay at Sharise’s for a couple more hours, before I’m meeting Duff at the Whisky because they’re playing a show tonight.

“Thank you.” I say as a girl in the crowded room moves for me to squeeze by her to get backstage with the guys once the show is over.

I crack open the door, seeing Axl in his assless chaps, his hair going all kinds of directions in it’s teased glory, and he smiles widely at me.

“Hey, Viv.” He greets me, and I step in to see everybody else in the room: Slash, Izzy, Stevie, Duff, and...no, no, that’s impossible.

I furrow my brows, my heart stopping in my chest.

“D-Dad?” I ask.

He’s just as shell shocked as I am, until his face is lighting up, tears coming to his eyes, as he nervously steps to me.

“What’re you doing here?” I ask next, realizing I’m about to cry.

I haven’t seen him in four years. We’ve written to each other every once in a while just to check up, but I haven’t seen him or heard his voice in four years.

“I’ve been coming down this part of town the past few nights when I heard you were back home.” He explains to me.

“Why?”

He doesn’t have to answer this, I know why. He heard his daughter’s husband possibly cheated on with her, and the mistress announced it on national television.

“Well, I couldn't really comfort you through a stupid letter.” He says and a tear rolls down my cheek.

“Aww, Dad." My voice cracks and he gives me a big hug.

"And I'll fly to wherever he is and give him a piece of my mind,  just say 'when' and I'll give him a real reason to go crawling to another woman." He states and I laugh, pulling away to wipe my eyes, getting a good, up close look at my dad. 

His hair is already starting to grey, despite only being forty-one, and his brown eyes haven't lost any of their spark that's been in them even since I could remember. 

He wipes my tears, giving me a reassuring smile. 

"I'm okay, Dad." I tell him, sniffling, looking around at the guys before looking back up at him. "How do you even know them?"

Apparently, several months prior, my dad happened to be in the same convenience store as Steven, who he saw was trying to smuggle a bag of Cheetos up his shirt because he couldn’t afford to buy them so my dad gave him a few hundred bucks and when he told Steven his name Stevie remembered my maiden name was “Kinston” and asked my dad if he knew me. It went from there and resulted in my dad checking in on them from time to time, but none of them ever told me because they weren’t ever really sure how I felt about my dad.

After the guys get changed, we’re heading to get some food  at the Rainbow with my dad tagging along.

“After she watched the Wizard of Oz with her aunt, she’d pretend she was the Good Witch of the South and used to get out of her little bubble baths and run through the house, calling herself the ‘Bubble Fairy’, with her mom chasing after her.” My dad tells the guys and I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing he wouldn’t have told the story of the notorious “Bubble Fairy.”

“Dad, they didn’t need to know that.” I say to him, seeing Duff and Slash trying to hide their laughter.

“Oh, it’s not that bad, Viv, you were a toddler.” My dad insists. “It was precious.”

“Yeah, maybe you should recreate it and let us see if it’s just as precious.” Izzy says to aggravate me.

“Hey, watch it.” My dad scolds him and I smile smugly at Izzy.

“Yeah, watch it." I echo and Izzy narrows his eyes at me.

"Whatever you say, Bubble Fairy." He says to me and I'm kicking at him under the table, before I'm looking at my dad again, taking a sip of Pepsi.

"Change of subject, why didn't you just come by the house?" I ask my dad.

"I didn't know if you would've wanted me to, if you were still trying to handle everything." He adds. "I was going to when I heard you had a health scare, but I didn't want to overstep any boundaries."

"Dad, I wouldn't have minded." I assure him, shaking my head a little. 

"Well, how much longer are you going to be in town?" He asks.

"Um, I'm flying out tomorrow for about a week, but we're supposed to be coming back home for a break." I explain. 

"'We're'? He's coming back home with you…is he staying with you?" He questions and I blink a couple times. 

"Well, y-yeah, we're still married, dad, so we're gonna be staying in the same house." I explain. "Especially since his manager thinks it's best if we play it off to the public and the media that the situation was a misunderstanding." 

"How the hell does one 'misunderstand' being engaged to a married man?" He asks, and the guys raise their brows.

"Well--"

"--I'd rip his manager a new one and tell him to use it to let out all the extra shit he's full of." 

My eyes widen, and I'm shocked, because I've never heard my dad this angry. 

"Dad, it's okay. After the tour if we want to file for divorce, we will."

"When is the tour over?"

"Next spring."

"Vivian, do you have any idea how long divorce takes to be finalized?" He asks and I rub my lips together. "If you genuinely want to get divorced, I suggest filing now so you can almost be done with it by the time the tour ends." 

"We've tried. She won't listen." Axl states, lighting a cigarette and I glare at him. 

"I'm weighing my options, dad." I say.

"And what's he doing?" He asks next. 

"Shooting heroin and screwing groupies." Axl interjects again.

"Axl." I snap. 

"Dude, c'mon." Duff lightly says, not amused with his suggestion. 

"What?" Axl looks at us. "Coming from a dude, infidelity is like cockroaches. For every one you know about, there's a hundred more you don't know about." 

"Dude!" Stevie scolds him, looking at him like he's lost his mind. 

"So we're just gonna pretend there's no chance that Vanity isn't the first chick Nikki's been with in the six years they've been together?" Axl keeps going. 

"I'm going to the bathroom." I mumble, getting out of the booth, trying not to think about the possibility of Nikki cheating with multiple other girls, but knowing it isn't too far-fetched to consider it.

After a couple minutes of wiping tears in the bathroom stall, I hear the door open, and wait to hear the clicking of heels on the tile floor, but instead hear heavy footsteps.

“Viv?” Duff asks and I let out a relieved sigh, sniffling.

“I’m fine.” I say to him, despite it not sounding convincing in the slightest.

“No, you’re not.” He tells me and I roll my eyes, opening the stall, looking up at him.

“I am.”

“There’s no fucking cameras around, you know that right?” He raises his brows and I exhale softly, throwing my wet, snotty tissue in the garbage can, stepping to the mirror to fix my face the best I can.

“I’ve thought of the possibility of him having others.” I admit, wiping the running mascara from my face as he leans against the stall’s fixture and looks at me in the mirror. “I’ve thought about it, and it’s one of my worst fucking fears is hearing this whole time there’s been girls left and right that’s he’s managed to sneak past me. I don’t like it, but I have thought about it. I’m not oblivious to that possibility.”

“I know you aren’t.” He nods.

“But he’s all I’ve known.” I tell him, taking a deep breath. “He’s all I’ve known and he’s all I’ve got and if I look for any more trouble, I’m gonna find it, and I’d rather not repeat this cycle of feeling like the biggest fucking idiot, so if we can just skip the conversation altogether I’d be really appreciative of it.” I state, turning to face him.

“Got it.” He promises. “And Axl doesn’t mean anything by it, Viv, alright? He just misses the mark when it comes to communication.” He shrugs. 

“I suppose.” I sigh out. “I’m sorry, you’re probably tired of me crying.”

“I wish you wouldn’t cry because I don’t like to see it, but I think you have every reason to, right now. I’m just happy you’re not completely losing your shit like I expected you to.” He explains and I raise my brows.

“Define ‘losing your shit’.”

He looks at me with raised brows.

“What did you do?” He asks me, amused.

“It’s not really what I’ve done...more so what I’m going to do.”

“What’re you going to do?”

“...Playboy sent me a letter, offering $40,000 for a cover shoot and interview, and some pictures to go along with it.” I watch as his eyes widen, and he gets an uneasy look on his face.

“Viv, you aren’t, like, the Playboy type, though.” He points out, worriedly.

“Well, no, I’m not, and I know that and they know that, so when I called just decided to do ‘tasteful’ nude shots.”

“‘Tasteful’ by Vivian standards, or ‘tasteful’ by pornographic magazine standards?”

“Vivian standards. Naked, but none of the good stuff is showing.” I state.

“Oh, okay.” He laughs out, nervously. “Are you...sure about it?”

“Well, at first I did it for the money because if Nikki leaves me, I’m not gonna have a penny to my name--”

“--Vivian, if you need money and somewhere to stay if things go to shit, you can just ask me or one of the guys.” He offers, looking like the thought of me posing nude just for money, doesn’t sit right with him because he knows I wouldn’t do it unless I felt I had no other choice.

“You didn’t let me finish.” I tell him, smiling. “But then they said it’d be tasteful and I wouldn’t have to show everything, and now it sounds kinda fun.”

“And what does Nikki think of it?” He asks me an important question and I go to speak, but stop myself, exhaling.

“What Nikki doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.” Is all I can come up with.

“Uh, I think Nikki will know when he sees his wife on the cover of Playboy.” He argues.

“It’s not like I’m gonna be posed on the front with my tits and pussy out, spread eagle for the world to ogle at my anatomy.” I counter and he squeezes his eyes closed, shaking his head a little.

“I didn’t need to picture you like that, Viv.” He says and I feel my cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“Oops, sorry.” I say, rubbing my lips together. “Hey, there is something I need to ask you, though.”

“Yeah?” He replies, looking at me.

“Tomorrow I’m going to their office here in town to sign the paperwork and stuff, and then I’m going to Chicago for the photoshoot, because conveniently enough, Motley Crue will be in Chicago for a few days, and I was wondering if you’d want to come with me.”

He laughs like it’s absurd.

“You are crazy.” He says, in disbelief.  “You are crazy.”

“Duff--”

“--If he finds out I was there with you, Viv, I just--you are crazy.”

“So, you’re not gonna go with me?” I ask him, scared he’s going to say “no” to avoid pissing Nikki off.

But he completely surprises me when he says:

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

[yikesharringrove]

what do you think about a crossdressing Steve? Maybe he started just liking the soft fabrics of his mom's clothes but then he started wearing them as a way to attempt to hold on to the feigned affection she gave him. Eventually he just got his own stuff because they helped him feel calmer, softer. He would only ever put them on when he believed he would be alone for a while to cook or do chores... And then one day Billy comes over. Do with it what you will.

So, maybe you wanted smut, but non-binary femme presenting Steve is a ridiculously big headcanon I have that I have talked about with several folks and will be included in the next big fic I roll out, so this is some Soft Shit bc I wanted an excuse to write Steve as non-binary femme presenting.

For some drag queen Steve, I got a little thing here.

This exact kinda character study of sorts has actually been in my drafts for like, a month, so I’ve incorporated some of it into this. It's modern, and there is some language that may be harmful, so PLEASE be careful with yourselves, no slurs or anything along those lines, just ignorant stuff. Also, this really went off the rails at the end, I’m Sorry.

Thank you for sending an ask!

Read on ao3!

When Steve was a little kid, he always preferred playing with the girls.

They would have clothes for dress-up, princess dresses, and pirate costumes, anything any child could want. They had wigs, makeup, crowns. Little girls also had babydolls, little pretend kitchens he would play in, plastic baby bouncing at his hip.

When his nanny would come to pick him up from Carol’s house, she would have wipes in the car, to clean off his face. Your father will be very disappointed if he sees you playing with girls’ things again, Steven. He learned very quickly that playing dress-up, wanting to be Mommy when playing house, those are not things little boys did.

He remembers fighting with his parents, when they found the little plastic case of goopy lipglosses Carol had let him keep. He was seven years old and was crying, had screamed as loud as he could that if little boys weren’t allowed to play with makeup, then maybe I don’t want to be a boy.

When his parents started leaving him more often, their absences growing longer the older he got, he began going into his mother’s things, trying on her clothes. He was twelve when he first learned that women’s clothes were made of finer materials, were softer, felt like butter against his skin. He was thirteen and would slip into designer dresses each night, learning makeup from YouTube tutorials, practicing with things left in his mother’s vanity and whatever he could discreetly put in his pockets at Meldvald’s.

He got pretty good. Good enough that at sixteen, he wanted more, would go to stores in Indianapolis, would spend his allowance on dresses, skirts, blouses, frilly little things that fit, that made him feel good, correct.

The first time he put on a pair of lacy panties, he almost cried. the material was soft, the cotton tight and nice against him, the delicate lace trimming the waist and legs was pretty. Steve realized, all he ever wants to be in his life is pretty.

He began thinking of himself as a girl, a young woman. He would tuck his dick back, make the space between his legs flat, let his hair grow out more, long enough to braid, to pin with floral clips.

He started dressing up, going out. Finding bars that would let him in if he batted his false eyelashes just so, would overlook his obviously fake I.D. so that he could go in, talk to men that were too old for him, too interested in his doe eyes, his soft cheeks, men that would buy him drinks, fuck him in the back seats of their cars, whisper about how pretty he looked, men that would touch his cock and coo that his pussy was so tight.

He found he didn’t like that but would grit his teeth, didn’t understand why wearing women’s clothes felt so right but the idea of having a women’s body felt wrong. He didn’t get why he felt the most himself, the most comfortable with his dick tucked up in lace panties, but the minute a man told him he was a good girl he felt sick. 

When he was seventeen, he stopped going out, stopped dressing up. He had Nancy now, a beautiful young woman who wanted a nice, regular young man. He almost told her, almost told her so many times, but then she was drunk, slurring in his face that he was bullshit, that he was fake, like he didn’t already know.

So he kept to himself, started dressing up again, putting on a full face, a delicate outfit the minute he got home. He would dance around while cooking diner, would float around the house in heels and sweeping dresses. They made him feel better, feel good. He would dress up on particularly bad days, would wear his most beautiful pieces when he got poor grades, when his father told him he was a disappointment over the phone. He had been informed today by his English teacher she had assigned him a tutor.

So he had blinked back tears while blending eyeshadow, had put on his prettiest dress, a pretty dark green number, the fabric light, delicate feminine. He was ready to wallow in self-pity and makeup when there was a knock on the door, followed by the voice of his something-like-a-friend Billy Hargrove, announcing with a laugh that you should REALLY start lockin’ your front door, Harrington. Wouldn’t want someone UNSAVORY comin’ in.

Steve was frozen in the kitchen, his best-kept secret all over his face, his body. Billy didn’t even blink twice when he saw Steve, asked what’s cookin’? while leaning over the stove. Steve’s eyes were screwed shut, breathing fast when Billy looked back, took Steve’s shoulder lightly in his hands said, you need to breathe, Sweet Thing, take it slow, match me. He rubbed gently down Steve’s arms, his eyes clear blue when Steve was able to open his own teary ones.

“Billy, you need to swear to me you won’t tell, you, I, people can’t know. They’ll, I mean, I know I’m a fucking freak but no one-”

“Whoa, who said you’re a freak?” Billy’s eyes were sharp.

“Look at me, Billy. I’m, I don’t know what I am. Sometimes, sometimes I wish that I was a girl, but, but something about that feels just, bad, but, but being a fucking boy feels like shit too, and I just,” he was sobbing, loudly and openly, knew his dark liner was no doubt streaming down his face.

“Hey, that’s okay, Honey, you don’t have to know. You just have to feel good.” He led Steve in a few more breaths. “It’s not black and white, you don’t have to be one or the other. You can just be you. Can be Steve, if you want.”

“What-I don’t understand.”

“Well, you don’t feel right as a boy, but you feel just as not right as a girl. There’s more than that. You have more options.” He turned off the stove, led Steve to his bag, whipping out a laptop covered in worn stickers. “So basically, there’re a whole bunch of genders.” He pulled up an infographic on his screen, a color-coded mess of columns and descriptions. “There’s way more than man and woman. There are people who are non-binary, don’t adhere to the idea of two genders. Sometimes non-binary people identify as another gender, a third gender, sometimes they identify as a mixture of identities. Agender people often identify as having no gender at all. genderfluid people tend to fluctuate between identities, can feel agender one day, the next feel like a man, it all depends on the person.” He looked at Steve, hand gentle on his arm. “And none of it’s wrong. There’s no correct way to be a human. And they each are up to interpretation. There are people who identify as agender but choose to present a certain way, there are people who identify as male but choose to present androgynous, there’s no one way to do it.”

“So if I, if I feel good like this,” Steve gestured to the dress, the smeared makeup. “I can still be, a guy, like I can just be a guy that likes to look like a girl.”

“If that feels best to you. Like I said, you don’t have to  be a guy, just because that’s what you were assigned at birth.”

“What do you mean? ‘Assigned at birth’?”

“That means the gender that’s on your birth certificate. It’s just a better way of saying like, male-bodied, since that can be, kinda shitty for people. And like, what even is a male body, you know?”

“You’re getting a little introspective for me here, Bill.”

“Basically, just because you were born with a dick and a doctor was like, it’s a boy, doesn’t mean you have to be a boy that likes looking like a girl, or whatever you said. That’s a perfectly valid way to be, a femme presenting guy, don’t get me wrong, but earlier you said you didn’t feel right as a boy, and I just don’t want you to back yourself into a corner.” Steve blinked.

“Yeah, I think, I think you’re right. I don’t, I’m not a guy. I don’t think.”

“You do not have to know right now. You literally just learned about this, you don’t have to like immediately make a choice. Take some time. Try different labels, try different pronouns, try no labels, see what feels best.” He smiled, looking at Steve softly. “If you want to, I can, like, help you. If you, if you think of something you want to try, it may be nice to, like, hear it from someone else.”

“What was, what was the one that was like, sometimes people identify as like, another gender?” Billy typed away, pulling up a new article.

“I think you mean non-binary. It’s more of an umbrella term to some people, they find more leeway in it.” He scrolled down, pointing at a list of pronouns. “So, some people who identify as non-binary also use alternative pronouns, things like they or ze, which is a way for them to be referred to outside of the gender binary.” Steve’s mind was racing. He tested the words on his tongue, thinking ze, sie, hir to himself, to, themself?

“But if I identify, as, as non-binary, or something, can I still, like, dress like this?”

“Of course. Identity and expression are two different things. To some, they go hand-in-hand, but to others, they can be totally separate.”

“I think, as of right now I think non-binary is okay.” Billy beamed.

“Okay! You don’t have to decide right now, and some folks never decide, they spend their lives flowing through different ways to identify and express themselves, and again, that’s totally fuckin’ okay. Nothing has to magically click into place for you. You can experiment.”

“Can I, can we experiment with, with they. I kinda, it kinda makes sense.” Billy just kept grinning, his smile huge and beautiful.

“Yes, I can do that.” But his face fell, “But I, I mean, this is fuckin’ Hawkins, and I don't’ know, I mean, is it, like safe?” Steve felt like their heart was breaking.

“No, it’s, I don’t think it is, I mean, there haven’t been like incidents but also, we don’t have a lot of people that are, like, openly different.” Billy’s brow was drawn.

“I can, I can call you whatever you want just the two of us, but, I don’t want to like, out you-”

“You can, you can say he was it’s, when it’s other people. I don’t, I don’t want this to get back to my dad, or anything.” Billy’s eyes were sharp.

“I can do that, I can protect you, like that.” He was nodding vigorously. “I just, I wanted to be on the same page, didn’t want to be like misgendering you behind your back and make you feel like shit.”

“You have my express permission to, uh, misgender me, or whatever you just said.” Steve sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “I just gotta get outta this fuckin’ town, man. Then I’ll be good. Live my little queer life outside of the shitty bar outside of town.” Billy laughed.

“You go there?”

“I used to, when I was first kinda, questioning myself. Used to let guys fuck me and call me, like, their pretty little slut or whatever. Not my finest moments.”

“Christ, Stevie. That’s some deep shit. I went once when I first got into town, and some guy was like, I wanna hear you screaming ‘Daddy’ for me and I was like, nope. No thank you to That.” Steve laughed with him.

“I’m pretty sure I did let that guy fuck me. Bily groaned.

“Stevie, no. Don’t call random men Daddy.”

“I’m not gonna lie to you, Bill, I got a lot of daddy issues.”

“Yeah, me too, but not that many.”

“Just enough to be called Daddy, then?” Billy went red, dropped his eyes from Steve as they cackled. “Hit the nail on the fuckin’ head then, didn’t I?”

“Whatever, you little asshole. Let’s just fuckin’ get on with your English homework that is why I’m here after all. Go grab your books.” Steve grinned, leaning in close to Billy.

“Okay, Daddy,” they purred, racing off up the stairs laughing loudly, hearing Billy cursing them out from the kitchen.

[monsterfanfic]

Chapter 01: Lost and Found

      From the computer to the board. From the board to the computer. The motions continued. Ms. Martin stood in front of the auditorium sized classroom, speaking on cells and DNA as the two smart boards behind her displayed everything the Professor stated. Naturally Eva found herself looking over notes, making sure every key detail was taken down. Most of this would be reviewed once labs started, so no need to stress over it. Besides, this is Eva's third year taking a science course under Professor Martin. By now the professor's antics were memorized. Hopefully, anyways.        Shifting to the right, Eva arched an eyebrow as she faced her roommate and best friend since freshmen year at New York University, Kelly Griffin, as the two clearly had different outlooks when it came to Martin's class. Leaning back in the cushion seat, Eva crossed her arms, plainly giving Kelly her attention.        "What?" Kelly whispered, but her lack of knowledge as to why Eva was looking at her, proved the point as to what the real reason was by itself.       "We will have a test in two days, Kels."       "I know. I don't need to write notes for everything she says to pass. Besides, are you going to even remember half of that shit by Friday?"       "Maybe not," Eva responded honestly, making them of both smirk. "At least I'm trying though."      False hope was more than nothing at all. At least its giving the chance to succeed. Instead of completely ignoring everything by being on Amazon searching for phone cases.  

      "Trying my ass. I rather do it my way then play with my own emotions."        It was the same petty discussion every time. They both believed in different rituals. Rituals that had served both of them over their years. Kelly has been a last-minute study person her life, while Eva believes if you continue to go over the material it has no choice, but stick to you.       "So, what? You’re going to spend damn near a hundred dollars on what? Five phone cases, a new screen protector, and.......a lightening phone charger? Really, Kels?"  "What? I need this stuff. Do you know how hard it is to do my make-up, listen to music while trying to charge my phone, which by the way, has a shortage?"        Eva couldn't master up a response. For one that was bizarre, yet expected. Kelly had no need for any of the objects in her online shopping cart, but it's what makes her happy. So, either she'll buy them now or she'll just give her doctor of a father the task of doing it later.        These two are from two different lifestyles, but that's what keeps their friendship evened out. Their differences became a balance.         Most importantly she didn't have too much time to respond because in just that short timing an Pop Quiz was being displayed on the two smart boards. Sighing, Eva closed the laptop, putting everything away and dropping her phone down by her bag. With only her notebook and pencil out, she headed her paper properly; waiting until Professor Martin flipped the screen to the quiz itself.       Kelly looked up, not an inch of surprise crossing her face. Instead she rose an eyebrow at her beloved friend and went back to her shopping. Which most did. Pop quizzes were a bare minimum of only five percent of the class overall grade; in Martin's. Eva wouldn't take her chances however. Besides, passing these quizzes is known to help Martin lighten up on the red pen during grading.        In a matter of seconds, Eva went from wanting to smack some sense into Kelly to starting with her first written response answer to an DNA cell related question of a total of five. It would take her the rest of class to finish these questions because of how much detail was expected from each student.      By the time Martin's infamous timer went off, Eva was finishing her last sentence.        "Time's up. Drop your papers off on your way out, I'll have them graded by Monday after your test. Have a nice day."        Ripping out the paper from the ridged ends of the notebook, Eva dropped it and her pencil in her book bag before getting up and following Kelly down the stairs.       Together the girls joined the crowd leaving the science related building and into the fall breeze of the October weather. The hurricanes and unbearable heat was finally over, while Eva's favorite seasons start to take over. The changing of leaves, from heat to warm and cool temperature drop lower. Meaning the chance to pull out all her favorite clothes. Sweaters, hoodies, thigh-high boots that were brought during the summer while on fifty-percent off sales, long sleeve shirts whether button or pull overs, and baseball caps even.      The weather of love and fashion.       "We should go out tonight."        Bringing herself out of her head, making up possible outfits with future shopping trips, that may not even happen; Eva looked at Kelly, who was digging in her bag like a crazy woman. Maybe for her phone. The girl wouldn't live without it if you paid her to do so. While, Eva could leave hers unattended for days if she wanted.        "I don't know, Kels."       "Why not?" Snapping her head into Eva's direction, Kelly finally stopped digging in that damn bag. "What do you honestly have to do better? Study?"      "No, sleep."        "Bitch," Eva laughed at her response, walking the path to Kelly's next lab. "How about you resend those pictures for the note packet in Steven's class and give yourself some time to rethink that decision? Its free tonight if we're there before 11. And neither of us have classes tomorrow."        Sighing, Eva went to her pockets then to her bag. Coming up short on both ends. Of course. She forgot her phone when dropping it beside her bag right before the quiz. Professor Martin would have a class in less than ten minutes and even though she had no fancy iPhone, that Note 7 would catch the eye of anyone worthy of wanting it. Including her nosy professor.      "I forgot it......"      "Really, Ev? That's like the third time you've done that."      "I know," Stopping Kelly from walking backwards, Eva held her hands up, declining the offer. "I'll go. You head to class, I'll send the notes before you get there so you can have them up before he starts."       Not wasting a second, both of them split ways and Eva retreated their steps back to the building so many of her classmates had just piled out of. It sounds different, even felt different when walking into the silent hallway. The doors of Martin, Williams, and Mr. Elza's classes were open for the next group of students, thankfully none of them stood outside waiting, attempting to start up conversations. Eva didn’t plan to stop until she was entering the class, and that’s, thankfully, how everything planned out.

     "I know what you're here for."      Sighing, she shook her head, walking into the class. Of course, Martin was a sticker for cleanliness, time, and most importantly someone paying attention. Eva should've known her fear of someone else getting her phone would be nothing compared to Martin getting her hands on it herself.        "I'm sorry," Eva mumbled, but was cut short from an intruder's voice coming from the opposite side of the room. Her phone only inches away from where the man stood.      "Good, because I don’t plan on wasting much more time." He responds, his eyes fixed on the phone and then to Martin. Conforming what Eva thought; neither of them cared that she was even here. Honestly, Eva was too caught up in the secret guest to care why she came back. Call her nosy, but it was surly interesting.       His voice was all male. Deep, masculine, raspy, and commanding all the attention in every corner of the room with each syllable oozing from those pink, plump lips.       His attention was solely on the class room, taking in every detail as if it was his first time being here. The tone of his voice betraying that thought.       Eva kept her distance, easily slipping out the doorway of the class from their visual, but definitely close enough to eavesdrop on the conversation. She's never known Martin to have such a secretive life. The woman had sense the sexy stranger before he even spoke and did so with so much ease that Eva knew this wasn't the first and if she didn't have whatever this predator wanted, it wouldn't be the last.       "I haven't gotten my hands on it yet."      "That's not what I want to hear. It’s been almost two months, Vivien."      "Yeah, well it’s not the easiest task here, East." Dropping her famous red pen, Ms. Martin looked up who Eva could now call East.      "Especially when you're not trying."      The low rumble of Rihanna's singing Consideration caught the conversation, cutting through the tension filled room. Eva sighed in relief, after a second of silence she peeked into the class. Her eyes darting in the direction of her phone once she saw the screen lightening up against the tiled floor.      "I'll be back." The next second his tattooed hand was covering the phone. Eva's eyes trailing the lengths of his arms, both filled of drawings, cartoons, words which she couldn't make out, and random things that her eyes couldn't concentrate on. East heading at her. His long legs getting him across the class, past a terrified Martin, and to Eva in seconds.      Now, she sees him. The man's arms and neck covered in tattoos also the only places she hadn't saw where the areas his black Tommy Hilfiger shirt hid. One even right above his right eye the lone word "Mugga" traced cursively. The scruffy beard and low eyes made her back into the red painted wall behind her. His height causing Eva to tilt her head up.       "Yours?" East holds out the oversize Tinker Bell phone case holding the Samsung device, his raspy voice low as if he's not interested in anyone else hearing their conversation. Maybe he isn't.       Eva looked at the phone, then to his fingers. Each finger having the letters: E A S T written on each one. The name was obviously popular.      East Harlem. The hint of an Spanish roll to his tongue.      "Mines." It was a stupid, stupid response, but the best she could come up with. There's something about a young girl when she's in the presence of a commanding, handsome, and older man that’ll make her act a fool of herself.       Grabbing the cell phone, Eva checked her screen for any scratches or cracks, fortunately for her today was the lucky day. The sound of a low chuckle caught her attention and she looked up to see East shaking his head at her, the sight of a perfect smile staring back at her.       "Be careful." And then he was gone.

     "I cannot believe I let you talk me into this bull." Eva's voice radiated through the dorm room. Her freshly painted nails tracing the leather material of her sleeveless crop top down to ripped jeans hugging her thighs and hips.       For the past two hours, she's been in and out of clothes. From one hanger to the next as each fell to the comforter on her bed. Giving into the idea of clubbing with Kelly wasn't a fight. She knew from the second she asked, they'll be going together. For one, there's the buddy system which they live by. Secondly, it was Wednesday. Fox in Brooklyn was free until whenever every Wednesday night. She wouldn't miss another weeknight outing.       "Please." Looking over at Kelly, Eva shot her a look before grabbing her make-up case and heading to the bathroom that separated their room and the girls next door. Surprisingly, neither Eva or Kelly have introduced themselves to their suite-mates. Maybe if this was their freshmen year, yeah. But now at their junior years, it's a no go. Kelly isn't everyone’s number one, anyway. From her ties with Wall Street moguls through her father, expensive taste in clothes, shoes, and even food. Plus, her loud mouth. Few chose to deal with Kelly Griffin. While Eva simply never makes time for any of it.      "Momma Reed calling you, Ev!"       Plugging in the flat iron, Eva made sure the heat was appropriate before leaving out the bathroom and back to her bed where the flashing phone laid. Luckily, Kelly answered the phone call or she would've been stuck with another river flow of missed calls and voicemail.       "Mama." She took the call back into the bathroom, leaving Nicole Reed on speaker as she parted her wavy hair into sections to straighten.       "Eva, I called you earlier after your afternoon class. Did something happen? You're okay?"       "No, momma. Everything is fine, I just got busy with some papers and a class project," And most of my day was spent thinking of a man who is has an DANGER sign nailed into his chest. "I saw your call, but I just figured I could call you later on."      “You know I worry about you, Eva. Later on isn't promise, sweetheart."      Nicole Reed is an dear woman. She loves hard and means well, but what Eva has learned over the years is her mother has dealt with many misfortunes. Situations that have left tarnished memories in her and burned her joy. Eva only knows of only one disaster that could leave a mother so hurt and scared. Her oldest brother Nick Rita disappeared during the early 2000s, not once showing any signs of worry or hurt to their mother. Eva thought the idea of her mother losing her first born would keep them settle. Just in case, Nick ever showed up again. Instead, they ran months after he disappeared and haven’t been back to Atlanta since.        From house to house, neighborhood to neighborhood, state to state, and even out of the country once where they called Europe home a year.       Nothing helped the trouble soul. Eva knew after some time her mother was going crazy. Or at least losing it. The late whispers of monsters, Nicole mumbling low words with the lone name Nick catching Eva's attention each time.      "Mom, I'm okay. You worry about me too much."     "For God's sake, Eva, you went to New York. Of course, I do. You're in danger's plate."      Monsters live.       Her favorite words.      "Ma......"        Trailing down the pieces of hair, Eva was half way finished and decided that some lipstick and a quick fresh face would be the perfect look for the night.     "I'm fine. I'm promise, but......I gotta go, ma. I'll call you tomorrow afternoon. Love you."       Pressing the red button on her screen, Eva watched the picture or herself and her mother disappeared as her phone log appeared.      "Same ol'?" Eva nodded at Kelly's question before grabbing a rubber hair tie and parting the top of her now straighten jet black tresses. Making a ponytail before fixing it into a high-top knot.       "If same ol' is another way of saying crazy? Yes, same ol'."      "Your mother is passionate, Eva. You'll be glad to have her one day." 

      Those words weren’t as effective as the first time she heard them, but, still forcing Eva to drop her arms and look at the back of her best friend as she walked out the bathroom. Not for too long, but she did dwell on the thought. Of course, death is in everyone's plans, but doesn't make it any easier to accept. Does Nicole drive her crazy? Yes, but, she's her mother. That’s what expected. Besides they do say mother knows best. 

     She stills remember telling her mother that she would be attending New York University. Being accepted mostly from graduating top ten of her high school class. Most parents would die in happiness, trying to make sure the funds would be there for the child's admission just in case FASFA caused any headaches. They'll make sure that the trip there and picking of dorms for their child or children would be an enjoyable and memorable time. Very few would be complaining and crying for the child to change their minds.       Nicole hated every second of the process. Always finding a way to make sure she was getting into Eva's mind.      So far, she's done so, just instead, Nicole is pushing her in the opposite direction. 

     "I need some of this!" Eva shouted over the music playing. She knew the song from riding with Kelly, but the artist's name wouldn't pop up for nothing.       For the past three hours, this has been their sanctuary. From forgetting about test, notes, quizzes, homework, papers, or projects. Even overprotective mothers and handsomely scary strangers. Everything that wasn't club talk was like speaking Creole to both Eva and Kelly. All they wanted for tonight was some peace. Away from the dorms of NYU and to the place of where normal teenagers relaxed and enjoyed their weekend-like Wednesday night.       "Here," Kelly handed over the cup to Eva, the sound of a sudden gasp and a frown meet Eva soon after.        Beside Kelly and Eva, there was a man. Standing at about six feet even, dressed in all black. Eva hadn't notice him before maybe because she spotted her friend across the club with a cup and with only one of them holding the fake ID to be old enough to drink; she didn't care to pay attention to anything else.        Taking a gulp of it, Eva went to hand it back, but Kelly waved her off motioning to have to have it. Nodding, she excused herself from the small moment her friend and the grim keeper were having and finished the shot within seconds.      Tossing the cup away, Eva went outside, past the bouncer who she remembers Kelly calling Devin and outside to the coolness of the late-night air. She wasn't so sure of going back in. What she expected the drink to do; cool her off, give her dehydrated body some liquids. It seems to have done the opposite. Maybe it's the fact it's Hennessy. Regardless, she needed to be away from the loudness, heat, and intoxicating scent of weed the inside of the club provided her with.       It takes all of ten minutes for Eva to realize that she was either a low tolerance person or worst and she was drugged. It couldn't be though. It just had to be that in that small shot of Hennessy, she hit her limit. Kelly wouldn't allow her to drink something drugged.      Her body was going into panic mode, but she couldn’t lift a muscle now. Everything was weary. Sliding down the brick wall of the club, Eva dropped her phone between her legs. The wallet case falling open and her debt card and driver license falling out right in front of her.     "Fuck...."     ‘Deep breaths and keep your eyes open.’       She chanted that over and over before Eva could take control of her posture. Out the corner of her eye, she saw the bouncer moving closer to her, but thankfully for her unalert body he stayed a few feet away as if he was trying to be protective of her.      "I got it." That voice.      Seconds later that same tattooed hand wrapped around her phone, picking up the cards also in the process, but paying attention closest to the license.       "Eva....look up."       The sight of the face she had just encountered hours ago meet her glazy eyes. Eva didn't know whether she should be on guard or accept the help because whatever was going on, she couldn't fight alone. But who was he to help? Some stranger.        "I need to find Kel." She finally mumbles, her tongue feeling too heavy for her mouth in the moment.       This was either happening for a reason or she was in trouble. Out of millions of people in one city how does she run into someone twice, who by the way, she doesn't know, in one day?       There was no time to dwell on her thoughts. Before her reappearing guest could answer to her request of finding her friend; everything was gone black on her.

[findteenpenpals]

Looking for a snail mail friend

Hey!! My name is Meaghan and Ive submitted twice before but I didn’t get as many snail mail pen pals as I would have liked so here I am again.

But as the title says I’m looking for some who wants to send letters. If you have somewhat bad hand writing like me we’d me great pen pals!! So if you feel the need to write on basic lined paper because you know you’ll ruin 10+ sheets of fancy paper due to typos/ or any mistakes I’m on the same boat.

Most people want some fancy Pinterest worthy letter but I don’t mind what it looks likes as long as you take the time to write it out and make it unique. You could type it if your had writing is that bad. I don’t want a pen pal only for the letter,I want to know about you and your life,your experiences. I would like to send small things on 2-3 holidays. Or just when ever,I’m always trifling and finding cute little things. I’ll always send a letter back if I get one too. It may take me a bit because procrastination but it will come. I am looking for something long term so I mean 5+ letters.

I like cats,emo music,Dan and Phil+9163920 other youtubers, so many band,shameless,orange is the new black,the office,Malcom in the middle,Steven U, Hamilton,Dear Evan Hansen

My perfect penpal would be someone who is open minded,not homophobic,racist,or transphobic etc.

Pros and cons of being my penpal

Pros: 💖I’ll send you cute things!! 💖I have these pastel envelopes. They are super gr8 💖I have lots of sticker. Because you can never have enough and you’ll probably get a sticker or 2 in each letter 💖I’ll find a way to include cats 💖I’m supportive and open minded 💖 Will be your gay friend 💖Will recommend you some sick emo tunes to listen to 💖I travel all the time so I’ll send you cool postcards and other things Con: ⭐️Has some what bad handwriting ⭐️Hardcore procrastinator ⭐️I am emo trash ⭐️My hand writing is a 6/10 ⭐️I like in missiouri so no where interesting 💖 But if you also live in MO we could be friends and meet?!

Sorry this is long but thanks for reading!!

my Tumblr @lilac-phan-trash

[geek-gem]

OK KO Glory Days

3:45 pm so now okay I'm gonna be honest. I have seen the full episode and almost missed the first part but saw the intro ending because I was on the wrong Cartoon Network it was the West one so had to change to East. Including I just found out theirs no other new episode of OK KO after that but a new episode of Gumball. I decided not to see that.

Yet was a bit bothered by that because I was expecting that. But nice one episode I don't have to stress about two episodes and talking about them. Even so okay that word I can start with I was hoping it be this episode I decided to not see any videos of.

The episode where it shows Rad's and Enid's parents almost forgot to 's behind Rad when I typing parents. I've read and seen some pictures but I don't wanna spoil myself.

Including I'm gonna mention at 4:30 pm I will watch The Loud House Tricked special but won't talk about it.

Typed down because but took it out because Mom came in told me she's gonna take my cousin T's baby girl to a appointment think a doctor.

I'm getting distracted yet about The Loud House. I'm just not interested in making text posts about episodes. Including my feelings towards the show I still like it. But I feel like I seem to be unfair with the show when I'm critical with it. Because just at times I'm not pleased with some episodes.

Yet let's get back to this. This episode surprised me. I liked it so KO has to do this project spoilers okay just remembered. But he has to do this project and can't have his mom's help yet her mentioning she's Silverspark so okay the episode with the title.

It is about the team Carol and Mr. Gar got a message from a friend. But it's about them being part of that group. This episode we well....I'm surprised they didn't reference that weird flashback lol okay to smile.

Seriously it's a nice episode. Along with seeing some of these older heroes even that Laser Blast guy I'm sorry just...is that Steven Ogg's voice. I just remember that theory of Laser Blast being Professor Venomous but I didn't see the credits and at times they don't show them during new episodes well you know with other shows with new episodes.

I should just get with it. But I think the episode was nice. Mainly thought it was cute and my smile okay a bit silly. Just it's amazing see how different just Mr. Gar of all people when he was younger he was so different back then before him being a total badass he's seen to be seriously.

Really everything else was cool like Carol and Gar with yes Rippy Roo using team work to destroy this rock monster of some sort. Weird I thought it might be the other heroes testing them.

Now I remember Foxtail and Doctor Greyman with Laser Blast they all seemed cool.

Including what I found adorable is just this scene with Carol giving Gar that Foxtail sticker and just I feel like this was I don't know if I should say start. Him really liking her but I had that feeling even if it might not be.

Basically just I wanna make this short yet I seriously enjoyed this. Seeing Gar and Carol as their younger selves and those interactions ether silly or cute. I'm calling them by their real names okay.

It was a cute episode mainly. Silly just...forgot might as well watch it again just...I don't have to mention this. But wanna say it helps with ratings.

Including nice of KO mentioning to the audience which would be his class of us having a nice Friday.

Got tags down 4:03 pm seriously cute episode 4:04 pm

[minijenn]

Universe Falls Chapter 25

Yesssss finally the last really purely fluff chapter for a while is done! And this one is... ok, I guess. There are parts of it I really like and several jokes in here that I think are pretty funny. So I hope you all enjoy it! Here we go!

Previous: http://minijenn.tumblr.com/post/154983277831/universe-falls-chapter-24

Chapter 25: Miss Mystery

7-18-5-5-20 20-8-5 20-15-21-18-9-19-20-19 3-15-21-14-20 20-8-5 6-21-14-4-19 3-1-20-3-8 20-8-5 13-15-14-19-20-5-18 1-14-4 20-8-5 2-5-20 9-19 23-15-14

“Ok, Mabel!” Steven called as he prepared to throw the frisbee. “Here it comes!”

“I’m ready!” Mabel shouted back, already running as Lion raced alongside her. The kids had devised a more interesting way of playing frisbee, one that involved having to contend with the pink beast in catching it. But even so, Mabel managed to barely best Lion this time as she jumped to catch the disk before he could. “Woo! That’s another one for Mabel! Sorry, Lion,” she smirked, giving the pink beast an affectionate scratch on the ear. “But you’re gonna have to do better than that!”

“Uh, are you guys really sure playing frisbee with a literal lion is such a good-” Before Dipper could even finish his question, Mabel haphazardly tossed the disk his way, hitting him squarely in the head and knocking him to the ground. Of course, Lion still chased after it and pounced on the already downed boy to retrieve it before trotting over to Connie with it. “Thanks for that, Lion,” Dipper deadpanned, annoyed as he picked himself up off the ground.

“Thanks, Lion,” Connie laughed, taking the frisbee. “Steven, are you ready?”

“Yeah!” the young Gem grinned as he bounced on the balls of his feet, ready to run. “Throw it, Connie!”

She did so, letting the disk soar towards Steven as Lion hurried after it once more. The only problem was that Connie happened to throw the frisbee a bit too high, to the point that it sailed right over Steven’s head and towards the Mystery Shack just as Stan happened to be walking out of it. Unfortunately, right as he stepped outside, the conman not only happened to be hit by the speeding disk, but also the pink beast that pummeled him to the ground for it.

“W-what the-?!” Stan exclaimed, alarmed as he looked up to Lion still standing over him. “Get off of me, you oversized clump of cotton candy!” The pink beast let out a sullen growl as he did what the conman had said, though Stan made sure to offer just as harsh of a growl of his own in response.

“S-sorry, Mr. Pines!” Connie called out apologetically.

“We were just playing the new game we made up: Frisbee Toss, Lion Edition!” Mabel quipped as the pink beast passed off the disk to her. “Do you wanna join us, Grunkle Stan?”

“Are you kiddin’ me, kid?” Stan asked caustically. “I don’t have time for fun and games or getting attacked by magical lions. I have a business to run and cold hard cash to make. Something that you’d never understand.”

Mabel pouted upon hearing this, quite unamused with her uncle’s condescending manner. But even so, she didn’t really have time to argue with him as Soos came around from the other side of the shack. “Mr. Pines! We got tourists at 9 o’clock!” the handyman exclaimed. “A whole busload of ‘em!”

And indeed, a large tour bus was pulling up to the shack as a small army of camera-toting tourists filed out, all of them buzzing with excitement and anticipation over the attraction they had arrived. “Hot tamales, it’s a jackpot!” Stan exclaimed with a wide grin as he peeked around the side of the shack to see the impressionable group for himself. “Soos! Make me some new attractions!”

“You got it, boss!” the handyman gave a thumbs-up as he hurried inside the shack. “Now where did I put that taxidermized chicken…?”

“As for all you kids,” Stan turned to the others. “Quit loitering around out here and get back to work!”

“But Mr. Pines, me and Connie don’t work here,” Steven pointed out with a frown.

“Didn’t you hear what I just said, kid?!” the conman exclaimed rigidly, not even caring about what the young Gem had said. “I said get back to work!”

Neither Steven nor Connie found that they were really in any position to argue with Stan, as surly and unyielding as he was. Which was why they both humbly followed the twins as they hurried into the gift shop with the conman coming not too far behind them.

“Wendy! Mark up those prices!” Stan shouted to the cashier, who was engrossed in reading a magazine instead of really doing her job. “The higher the better!” Wendy sighed but begrudgingly did so, adding a zero to the end of a two dollar price tag, upping it to twenty. “Higher!” Stan demanded. “Bleed ‘em dry!” The cashier complied, adding yet another zero to the sign and bumping the price up to a staggering $200.

“Yeesh, Grunkle Stan,” Dipper remarked upon seeing all this. “It’s like when you see tourists, all you see is wallets with legs.”

“That’s not true,” Stan protested pointedly. Yet all the same, as the conman turned to the window to observe his incoming customers, he really did envision most of them as walking, over-sized wallets, all of them ready to spend themselves dry at the Mystery Shack. In fact, as a carsick tourist stumbled out of his car, Stan even imagined he was throwing up pennies as opposed to actual vomit. However, in reality, that was far from what had really just happened. “Clean up on the front lawn!” he shouted to his nephew, seeing as how he certainly wasn’t going to do it himself. Dipper simply sighed relentingly but went to carry out the unsavory task all the same, glaring disparagingly at his uncle all the while.

Considering the sudden flux of tourists, the Mystery Shack was having quite the booming business day, meaning that all of its employees were quite busy. Though they didn’t work there, Stan had deemed Steven and Connie as “temporary interns”, of course implying that neither of them were going to get paid for helping out. And so, the two of them were somehow roped into selling tour tickets outside, which fortunately wasn’t too difficult or tiring of a task.

“There you go,” Connie said as she handed a ticket off to another customer. “Enjoy the tour!”

“This is the best job ever, Connie,” Steven said with a bright grin. “I mean, we get to sit out here, talk to all these nice people, and be the first faces they see when they come to the Mystery Shack! What could be better than that?”

“I feel like I could think of a few things…” Connie remarked with a small laugh.

Before the conversation could continue, another family stepped up to the ticket table, including a mother carrying a small infant. “Oh, what a cute baby!” the young Gem gasped with a delighted smile upon seeing the child. “You get to go in for free, little guy.”

“Oh, well that’s very polite of you. Thank you, young man!” the mother smiled graciously. However, before her and her family could go inside, they were abruptly stopped at the door.

“Hold it!” Stan gruffly exclaimed as he stepped outside. “No one, and I mean no one gets in for free. No exceptions.”

“Not even babies?” Steven asked with a frown.

“Especially not babies,” the conman asserted before turning to the woman. “It’s the full price of admission for you and your little ankle biter, lady.”

The mother simply shrugged in acceptance with this and handed Stan the money before going on inside with the rest of the group. “As for you two,” he said to Steven and Connie. “Don’t let me catch you trying to hand out any kind of ‘discounts’ or ‘price cuts’ to any of these rubes. I’m not not-paying you two to run a charity case.”

The conman didn’t give either of them a chance to respond as he simply went back inside, slamming the door shut behind him. “Well,” Connie said to Steven with a halfhearted shrug. “We can’t say we didn’t try.”

“Ladies and gentle-tourists!” Stan began in his faux charming tone as he led a large tour group through the museum. “Looking around my Mystery Shack, you will see many wondrous roadside attractions! Be amazed at the only known photo of a horse riding another horse!” The conman pointed to said picture hanging from the nearby wall, smirking as the tourists muttered amongst themselves, interested.

“And now,” Stan continued the tour. “Be astonished at the horrible, pre-teen wolf boy!” With a dramatic flair, the conman pulled the nearby curtain aside to reveal Dipper wearing the “wolf” costume Stan had forced him into, complete with fake fur, fangs, and ears. “Oh! Look at him!” the conman continued, ignoring how clearly disgruntled his nephew was over his embarrassing position. “All that hair! His body’s changing, ah!”

“Grunkle Stan,” Dipper spoke up, spitting his fake wolf teeth out. “This is demeaning.”

“What? I don’t know ‘de meaning’ of that word!” Stan joked, eliciting a laugh from all of the tourists and a frustrated sigh from Dipper. “By the way,” he said to the tourists. “If you throw money at him, he dances.”

Of course, the impressionable tourists were more than happy to do so, forcing Dipper to jump around the stage in something of a “dance” in order to avoid the cash being thrown at him. Even so, Stan was more than happy to reap all of the extra money he was making, regardless of how he got it.

Much like the tour, the gift shop was also bustling with customers, all of them eager to spend their money on various knick-knacks and doo-dads. Mabel cheerfully presided over the checkout counter, taking a page from her grunkle about advertising products freely and loudly.

“Behold! Mystery Shack bumper stickers!” she proclaimed, catching the attention of every customer nearby. “You can stick ‘em on your bumper or over your husband’s mouth! Am I right, ladies? She knows what I’m talking about!” she grinned to the woman approaching the counter.

“Oh, you are bad!” the woman laughed, amused. “How much?”

“Hey, it’s on the house,” Mabel smiled as she gave the woman a bumper sticker. “That’s the Mabel difference! Thanks for visiting!”

“What?!” Stan’s sudden outburst startled Mabel as he suddenly stepped out from behind a cardboard cutout of himself. “What the heck do you think you’re doing!?”

“Business!” Mabel quipped brightly, pressing random buttons on the register. “Ching! Ching! Ching!”

“Listen, kid,” Stan began, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “You don’t make money by giving stuff away. You make it by upping prices and tricking idiots into giving it to you for practically nothing. Which is why you’re off register duty.”

“But-” Mabel tried to protest before she was abruptly cut off.

“No buts except yours out the door,” the conman said coldly. “Now shut your yap and get to work!”

“Grunkle Stan, whatever happened to ‘please’ and ‘thank you’, hm?” Mabel asked. “Oh wait! There they are!” At this, she pulled out her rather extensive sticker collection and retrieved two stickers saying both of those courtesy words, slapping them onto Stan’s face. “Wop wop!”

“Ugh,” Stan groaned, taking the stickers off. “‘Please’ never made me any money, kid. In fact, just saying the word gives me a burning sensation.”

It was around this point that Steven and Connie entered the gift shop, both of them looking rather famished and exhausted after their long stint of selling tickets. Yet even so, the conman hardly had any sympathy on them. “Hey, hey! What do you two think you’re doing?!”

“We just came in to get some water,” Steven explained, his voice sounding rather dry. “It’s so hot out there, Mr. Pines.”

“Customers finally stopped coming, so we decided to take a short break,” Connie added. “If that’s ok with you, sir.”

“Well, it most certainly isn’t ok with me!” Stan exclaimed crossly. “If you guys aren’t out there selling tickets, then people will think they can just waltz in here all willy-nilly without paying. Somebody has to take their money from them and that somebody is you.”

“Can we at least have a bathroom break first?” Steven asked anxiously. “I’ve been holding it in for almost two hours!”

“Didn’t you just hear a word I said?” the conman retorted caustically. “No breaks! For any of you! From now on, everyone around here better pull their weight, or I’m cutting your pay even more!”

“Mr. Pines, you’re not paying me or Steven to work here…” Connie pointed out with a frown.

“Then that should give you all the more incentive to work harder, shouldn’t it?” Stan asked, unconcerned.

No one was really sure how to argue with this faulty logic, so none of the kids really even tried. Not long after this, however, Dipper entered the gift shop, more than ready to voice his own grievance to his miserly uncle. “Grunkle Stan, why do I have to wear this wolf costume?’ he asked in exasperation, scratching at the fur attached to his legs. “I think I’m getting hookworm.”

“Ha! Yep,” Stan laughed. “Gluing dog hair to your body will do that.”

Dipper sighed at this comment, only growing even more annoyed with Stan’s cheap, unethical business practices. “Grunkle Stan, you’ve got all these dumb, fake exhibits here at the shack but meanwhile I’ve seen actual amazing things in the forest every day! What if you hunted down a real attraction instead of just lying to people for a living?”

“And you should be nicer to your employees too!” Mabel added just as vigorously.

“And give them bathroom/water breaks!” Steven exclaimed boldyl. “And maybe a nice snack break every now and then too.”

“Yeah!” Dipper and Connie agreed in unison, high fiving Steven and Mabel. Yet even so, Stan was hardly sold on any of their ultraistic ideas.

“Look, if you guys got a problem with how I run the shack, take it up with the complaints department,” the conman remarked, smirking as he held up a trash can. “Zing!”

“That’s a weird looking complaints department…” Steven noted with a frown.

“Oh, I am going to write them such a letter!” Mabel exclaimed, already starting to do so as she shielded what she was writing away from the trash can.

“Make sure to use lots of exclamation points!” Steven encouraged, looking at over her shoulder at the letter. “They’re great for adding that extra ‘oomf’!”

Of course, Dipper and Connie could only really sigh at the pair’s misplaced enthusiasm, knowing that Stan wouldn’t really listen to any of their complaints or suggestions anyway. And unfortunately, it looked like that was something that wasn’t going to change anytime soon.

As the flow of customers began to slow down later that afternoon, Stan contracted all of his employees (including Steven and Connie) to carry out what he referred to as a ‘shack beautification project’. In reality though, the sum of said project was coating the shack’s sign with a heavy layer of glitter, regardless of how gaudy it made it look. Of course, the conman had no intentions of helping the others with this task as he merely supervised them from the lawn below.

“And don’t stop until you’ve covered that sign with glitter!” Stan ordered firmly. “Glittery signs attract tourists! Also large birds.” The conman’s statement was proven true as an eagle flew in from out of nowhere, divebombing towards the sign and attacking Soos in the process. Instead of helping his employee however, Stan simply laughed at his panic and misery. “Ha! That’s funny.”

As everyone begrudgingly continued working, the Gems happened to arrive, all three of them curious to see what the commotion was all about. “Yo, Stan!” Amethyst greeted casually as they came to stand alongside the conman. “What up? Are you trying to give people eye strain when they look at the shack’s sign?”

“Because if that’s the case, then you’re doing a pretty good job,” Garnet remarked dryly.

“Hey! I’ll have you know all that glitter is gonna bring in loads of paying customers!” Stan protested defensively. “And it’ll probably get people to finally stop looking at your dusty old temple and get their attention on a real tourist attraction for once!”

“Please, Stan,” Pearl rolled her eyes. “The Mystery Shack couldn’t be more fake. Anyone with eyes can see that everything in there is just a shallow, tawdry ruse.”

“I don’t know what half of that meant, but thank you,” Stan said snidely, satisfied with the aggravated glare the white Gem sent is way.

“Oh, hi, you guys!” Steven shouted down to the Gems from atop the roof. “Check me out! I’m painting!”

“Steven, be careful up there!” Pearl called fretfully before turning to the conman in a huff. “Honestly, Stan, it’s bad enough you force the twins to work so hard. How did you manage to rope Steven and Connie into doing your dirty work too?”

“What? They both volunteered to help out for the day,” Stan lied, feigning innocence.

“No, we didn’t!” Connie called from the roof.

“Pfft, well better them than us, huh?” Amethyst asked with a shrug. “This junk looks boring anyway. Though at least Steven looks like he’s kinda having fun.” The purple Gem nodded up to the young Gem, who was blithely painting a smiley face in glitter on the shack’s sign.

“So are you three just gonna stand around here all day?” Stan asked the Gems, crossing his arms. “Because if you do, there’s a fee you have to pay for that.”

“We’re going,” Garnet said, already preparing to leave.

“Fine, I suppose we are,” Pearl said with a frustrated sigh. “But you better be careful not to work Steven too hard, Stan. Or else you’ll have to answer to us.”

“Oh gee, I’m quivering in fear,” Stan remarked sarcastically as the Gems walked off. Pearl shot one final warning glare back at him, but said nothing as they left, leaving the conman to freely bark orders at his employees once more. “Alright, kids, pick up the pace! By the time I come back out here, that sign better be shining like a brand new penny! Or better yet, a quarter because they’re worth way more money!”

And with that, the conman went inside the shack, allowing the group to finally take a much needed breather now that they were no longer under his scrutiny. “Ok, is it just me, or is having Grunkle Stan as a boss seriously the worst?” Dipper asked, putting his paint roller aside.

“I know, right?” Wendy remarked, crossing her arms. “Why do we even put up with it?”

“Aw, working for Mr. Pines isn’t so bad, you guys,” Steven said, trying to see the bright side of things. “At least he finally let me have my bathroom break.”

“Only because you got down on your knees and begged for it, Steven,” Dipper pointed out dryly.

“You know, I gave Stan a suggestion to improve the shack once,” Soos said. “I had this idea where I could be like, the Mystery Shack mascot: Questiony the Question Mark. I ask people questions, do the question dance, cool stuff like that.”

“That sounds amazing!” Mabel exclaimed with a huge grin as the others all nodded their shared enthusiasm towards the handyman’s idea.

“Yeah, Soos! I’m sure everyone would love that!” Steven added brightly.

“Yeah, well… Stan said I couldn’t handle it.”

“He said what!?” Mabel exclaimed, shocked. Stan had already shown a general lack of concern for his employees and his customers over the course of today alone. But as far as Mabel was concerned, this was the final straw. And this time, she wasn’t willing to stand by and let her uncle get away with it any longer.

“And remember, folks!” Stan called after the latest tour group as they departed. “We put the ‘fun’ in ‘no refunds’!” As soon as the tourists were out of earshot, the conman retreating inside the gift shop, counting his large stack of profits and laughing all the while. “Suckers!”

“You!” Mabel shouted accusingly, revealing herself from her hiding spot behind the door and startling Stan quite a bit. “Grunkle Stan, you’ve gone too far this time! Did you seriously tell Soos not to follow his hopes and dreams because he ‘couldn’t handle it’?”

“Look, kid,” Stan began, heading into his office with Mabel following close behind. “Let me break it down for you. Around here, I’m known as Mr. Mystery for two reasons: 1. Because I give everyone who comes to this shack a taste of the unknown, for the right price of course. And 2. Because I’m the boss. And being a boss is about commanding respect. If you give people everything they ask for, they’ll walk right over you.”

“No way!” Mabel argued. “I bet you’d make way more money being nice than being a big grumpy grump to everyone all the time!”

“Ha! You think you know more about business than I do? You think you could wear this hat?” Stan asked caustically, pointing to his fez.

“Yeah!” Mabel exclaimed readily. “Cause I give people respect! And glittery stickers!” For emphasis, she pulled a star sticker out of her sweater and stamped it on her cheek, her expression remaining hard and resolved all the while.

“Please,” the conman rolled his eyes. “I’d make more money on vacation than you would running this place.”

“Then why don’t you go on vacation?”

“Hm… interesting…” Stan mused, taking this challenge to heart. “Alright, I’m a wagering man. So here’s how its gonna work. 3 days. 72 hours. You run the shack, and I’ll go on vacation. If you make more money than me, I guess it means you’re right about the way I run my business. But if you lose, you, uh…” The conman paused, glancing around until he found a blank white tee shirt nearby. Acting quickly, he took a marker and scribbled the word ‘loser’ on it in bold black letters. “You have to wear this ‘loser’ tee shirt all summer!”

“Fine,” Mabel shrugged, confident that she would win this bet. After all, how could her natural kindness and charm not make more money than Stan’s swindling and stoicism? “But if I win, I get to be boss for the rest of the summer! Plus, you gotta sing an apology song with lyrics written by me, Mabel!”

“Whoa ho!” Stan exclaimed, rather impressed by how quickly his niece had thought up such specific terms. “You got yourself a deal, missy!”

“No, you got yourself a deal!”

“Deal!” Stan exclaimed once more, slamming his hand down on his desk.

“Deal!” Mabel did the same just as firmly.

“Deal!” Stan shouted once more.

“Deal!” Mabel smirked, putting a heart shaped sticker on Stan’s nose in order to officially seal the deal.

True to his word, Stan began packing up his car later that afternoon, more than ready to not only take a three day long vacation but win the bet in the process. The kids all watched from the porch as he prepared to embark on his trip, as did the Gems, who had come down to check on Steven once more.

“So let me get this straight…” Pearl said to Mabel. “You made a bet with him that you’ll be able to make more money than he can, essentially beating him at his own game?”

“Yep!” Mabel exclaimed enthusiastically.

“I gotta say, that’s pretty gusty of you, Mabel,” Amethyst remarked. “Especially since Stan’s kinda the king of making money.”

“That I am,” Stan proclaimed proudly. “And maybe after three days of not making a single dime will finally show you that, kid.”

“Oh yeah?” Mabel asked challengingly. “Well, I’m gonna make plenty of dimes, Grunkle Stan! You know why? Because people actually want to work for me, right guys?” she asked the others.

“Um, sure, I guess,” Dipper shrugged.

“I don’t see why not,” Connie smiled amicably.

“You bet, Mabel!” Steven eagerly agreed.

“So, wait…” Pearl interjected. “What happens if you win the bet, Mabel?”

“If I win, I get to be in charge of the shack and Grunkle Stan has to perform an embarrassing song and dance number that I’m gonna come up with!” Mabel quipped excitedly. “I already have this super sparkly orange jumpsuit picked out for him to wear while he does it and everything!”

The Gems all exchanged a glance upon hearing this before they broke out into a round of unified laughter. “If that’s what you have in mind, count us in too,” Garnet grinned, her hands on her hips.

“Yes,” Pearl laughed, nodding in full agreement. “That certainly sounds like it’s just the sort of humbling experience Stan needs.”

“Humbling, huh?” Stan raised an eyebrow. “Well then how about we make this more interesting, seeing as how you three feel the need to stick your noses in all this?”

“Oh, I love it when things get more interesting!” Amethyst exclaimed with a daring smile. “Whatcha have in mind?”

“I was just thinking we up the ante a bit,” the conman shrugged nonchalantly. “If you all win, then I’ll do Mabel’s dumb little song-and-dance. But if I win, then not only does she have to wear the loser shirt, but you three also have to work here at the shack for me for a month. How does that sound for ya?”

“Wait, you call having to hang out down here all day instead of having to go on missions a punishment?” the purple Gem asked.

“It certainly would be a punishment, if we were going to lose the bet, which we’re not,” Pearl affirmed confidently. “Right, Garnet?”

“Eh, it’s about a fifty-fifty chance either way,” the Gem leader shrugged, her future vision showing her no advantage on either side.

“Those odds are good enough for me!” Mabel exclaimed brightly.

“Me too!” Amethyst agreed. “We’re totally in, right, P?”

“Yes, we are,” the white Gem nodded. “And I have to say, I’m already anticipating your little ‘performance’, Stan. I’m sure it’ll be a big hit!”

The conman simply rolled his eyes as Pearl laughed mockingly. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. In the end, I’ll be the one laughing when I put you three to work fixing my roof.”

“We’ll see about that,” Garnet said vaguely.

“You bet we will,” Stan retorted with a smug grin as he got into his car. “Welp, see you all in 72 hours. May the better businessman win! Which is, of course, me!” With another triumphant laugh, the conman sped off, though not before tossing his fez at Mabel as a sign of his responsibilities passing onto her. Still, the girl grinned confidently as she put it atop her head, a large jar to hold all of the money she planned on making tucked under her arm.

“Uh, Mabel?” Dipper spoke up, relatively concerned. “You do know you just made a bet with a professional conman, right?”

“Oh come on,” Mabel said with a wave of her hand. “Being a better boss than Stan will be a cinch. Profit, here we come!” Of course, as she held her profits jar up, it just so happened to slip right out of her hands and shatter on the ground.

“You broke the-”

“We’ll get a new one,” Mabel quickly cut her brother off before turning to the Gems. “So you guys are really gonna help me?”

“Of course we are, Mabel,” Pearl said with a warm smile.

“Yeah, anything to embarrass Stan!” Amethyst quipped, smirking.

“That alone is worth all the hard work,” Garnet remarked.

“Working here is gonna be so much fun with you in charge, Mabel!” Steven exclaimed excitedly. “Will we finally get snack breaks? Oh! Can Lion finally come inside the shack and play with the customers?!”

“Oh, so much more than that, Steven,” Mabel said, grinning as she headed inside. “Let’s just say I have plans for this old place… Big plans…”

“Um… should we be concerned about that?” Connie muttered to Dipper, somewhat unnerved.

“Eh,” Dipper shrugged. “I’m sure she can’t be any worse than Stan was, right?”

Mabel’s first activity as acting manager of the shack was to call for an employee meeting in order to lay down the ground rules to everyone. She had already positioned herself in Stan’s office, more than ready to receive Dipper, Steven, Connie, Soos, Wendy, and the Gems as they walked in.

“You wanted to see us, Mr. Pines?” Soos asked as they approached the desk.

With a huge smile, Mabel turned her chair around and scooted it up to the desk, revealing the business wear she had clad herself in for this special occasion. “Stan is no longer with us.”

“He’s dead?!” Soos gasped, absolutely distraught. “No! It should have been me!”

“Whoa, Soos! Stan’s not dead!” Mabel rose from her seat, concerned as the handyman crumpled to his knees. “He’s on vacation. We made a bet.”

“Oh…” Soos got up, slightly embarrassed for his outburst but relieved all the same. “Thank you for that clarification.”

“So this means, Mabel’s in charge now!” Mabel announced boldly. “Meet your new Miss Mystery!”

“Are those… shoulder pads?” Dipper asked, noting his sister’s very professional attire.

“If they are, they look really snazzy!” Steven quipped with a thumbs up.

“Thanks!” Mabel exclaimed, shaking her shoulder pads up and down. “It’s just one of the up-to-date managerial tricks I learned from this book I found propping up the kitchen table.” She held up said book for them all to see, a volume entitled Succeeding in Management, 1983.

“Seems like a good read,” Garnet said, taking the book from her and flipping through it.

“Human business practices haven’t changed too drastically over the course of a mere thirty years, right?” Pearl asked in a somewhat anxious whisper, a small part of her fearing that they wouldn’t actually win this bet.

“Why does your mug say ‘#2 boss’?” Connie asked with a frown, noting Mabel’s rather odd coffee mug.

“Because the real #1 is… you!” Mabel held up a hand mirror at the others, eliciting pleased laughter from them all. Her smile grew even wider as she realized her plan was already working; she was boosting morale, which would certainly lead her employees to be more productive, just as the book had instructed her. But even so, this was just the first step. She had several more to go if she ever hoped to beat Stan. “Walk with me,” she nodded to the group, leading the way to a nearby chalkboard. “With me as your boss, you’re all gonna notice a few changes around here. My job is to help you be your best ‘SELVES’: Satisfied, Everyday, Loving life, Very much, Everyday, Satisfied.”

“Why were everyday and satisfied in there twice?” Amethyst asked, confused.

“Because I want you all to be twice as satisfied on every everyday!” Mabel explained cheerfully. “Waddles, hold my calls!” she said to the pig, whom she had dressed up as her secretary and built a small office for. Seeing as how things were going quite well so far, Mabel led the group into the gift shop to continue their meeting.

“Alright people, rap with me,” Mabel said, pulling up a chair. “Wendy, how can I make your work space more Wendy-friendly?”

“Hm, well…” Wendy mused. “Stan never lets me hang out with friends at work.”

“Stan ain’t here, sister! Door’s open!” Mabel exclaimed with an affirming grin.

“Sweet!”

“And Soos, I believe this is yours,” Mabel pulled out an oversized foam question mark from behind the counter, handing it off to the handyman.

“Questiony the Question Mark?!” Soos asked, absolutely delighted. “I wish this was an exclamation point to show how excited I am!”

“And Steven, you said you wanted snack breaks? Well how’s this instead?” Mabel pulled the cloth off the nearby table to reveal a huge assortment of various snacks and treats of all kinds. “A whole snack buffet for you to eat from any time you’d like!”

“Wow!” the young Gem exclaimed, stars in his eyes. “Mabel, that’s amazing! It all looks so good! And are those donuts from the Big Donut I see?”

“They are!” Mabel nodded. “Only the best for my valued employees!”

“Steven’s not an employee here…” Pearl frowned, befuddled.

“You know what? You’re right, Pearl! None of you are employees here!” Mabel announced, eliciting confused looks from everyone else. “Here, you’re all family!”

The group all laughed warmly in response to this, all of them very receptive to the kind treatment Mabel was showing them. “As for you, Dipper…” she grinned, holding up her brother’s wolf costume and noticing the clear look of dread on his face upon seeing it. However, much to Dipper’s surprise, instead of ordering him to put it on, Mabel ran the faux fur through the nearby paper shredder, destroying it completely. “Die, wolf costume, die! Now, Dipper, I want you to head into woods and don’t come back until you found an amazing attraction! And Connie, since you’re into all that magicky nerd stuff too, I want you to go with him!”

Needless to say, Dipper and Connie exchanged elated grins upon hearing this assignment, both of them more than ready to undertake such an exciting task. “Finally!” Dipper exclaimed with a daring grin as he pulled out the journal. “It’s time to show Stan how a real mystery hunter does it!”

“A actual monster hunt…” Connie smiled, her eyes wide with excitement. “Just like out of a fantasy novel! This will be great!”

“Let’s go!” Dipper urged, grabbing the flail that happened to be hanging from the nearby wall and leading the way to the window. “We’re out—whoa!” Unfortunately, he had failed to account for the heavy weight of the flail, which inevitably caused him to fall out the window.

“Dipper, are you ok?!” Connie asked, concerned as she prepared to jump out the window herself.

“I’ll be fine!” Dipper answered someone weakly from outside as he tried to push the heavy flail off of him. With a shrug, Connie leapt out after him, the pair ready to embark on their impromptu monster hunt and make it back before the day was through.

“Um… maybe one of us should go with them…” Pearl frowned with worry as Dipper and Connie departed on their potentially dangerous mission.

“Oh don’t worry,” Mabel reassured blithely. “I’m sure they’ll do great! In the meantime, we’re going to prove that nice boss finishes first. In the next 72 hours, we’re gonna fill this jar with six hundred billion dollars!” To keep track of this goal, she drew a line on the jar towards the top in the hopes that she could reach it.

“Wait, do you know how money works?” Wendy asked, somewhat concerned.

“Nope!” Mabel admitted with a smile. “That’s why I’m putting Pearl in charge of finances!”

“Oh, well thank you, Mabel,” Pearl graciously accepted the jar as Mabel handed it off to her. “You won’t regret this decision. You can rest assured I’ve had plenty of experience handling money in the past.”

“Yeah!” Steven vouched for the white Gem. “Pearl’s great with cash. One time she threw a whole wad of money at a bird to get it to leave her alone!”

“And it worked,” Pearl added with a proud smirk.

Soos and Wendy exchanged something of an apprehensive glance upon hearing this, but even so, neither of them questioned their new boss’s decision. After all, working under Mabel was already proving to be much more rewarding than working under Stan ever was.

“Ok, Amethyst,” Mabel turned to the purple Gem. “Since Soos and Wendy will be busy in here and Dipper and Connie are gone, I’ll need you to give out tours in the museum. You come down here all the time, so you probably know a lot about all the different exhibits, right?”

“Know ‘em?” Amethyst grinned. “Come on. I pretty much helped Stan come up with more than half of those things! Showing them to a bunch of humans with cameras will be a piece of cake.”

“Great!” Mabel exclaimed brightly. “Thanks so much, Amethyst!”

“You got it!” the purple Gem nodded. “And you know what? I’ll even spice that lame old tour up a little for ya. By the time I’m done, people will be paying just to get back in line!”

“Awesome! Do whatever you want! Now Garnet,” Mabel addressed the Gem leader next. “I have a really special job for you.”

“I’ll do it,” Garnet replied, adjusting her shades.

“But... I didn’t even tell you what it was yet…”

“Future vision,” the Gem leader reminded her with a smile.

“Oh yeah! That’s… actually kinda what I was gonna ask you for,” Mabel said, remembering hearing about Garnet’s unique ability. “I want you to fill in as the shack’s newest premiere attraction: the Future Visionary!”

“I like it,” Garnet nodded.

“Just tell the guests what you see in their futures,” Mabel explained. “According to Grunkle Stan, people eat that stuff up when its fake, so I’m sure they’ll love it even more when its real! Oh, and you’ll need these.” Reaching behind the counter once more, she pulled out an ornate cape and matching turban, handing them to the Gem leader for her to wear.

“Are you really going to wear those, Garnet?” Pearl asked with an amused grin.

“Sure,” Garnet shrugged, also smiling.

“What about me, Mabel?” Steven asked eagerly “What do you want me to do?”

“Steven, you get one of the funnest, most important jobs of all!” Mabel exclaimed. “You get to go into town and try and bring as many customers back to the shack with you as you can.”

“You mean I get to go make new friends and tell them about how great the Mystery Shack is?” Steven smiled, completely overwhelmed with excitement. “This day just keeps getting better and better! I’m on it, Mabel! And I’m gonna take a few of these with me for the road…” He snuck a few donuts from the snack table before heading outside. “Lion! Come on! We have customers to find!”

“Good luck!” Mabel called out after him before turning back to the others. “Well, you guys, I think it’s safe to say we have a pretty tight ship running here. I’d like to see Grunkle Stan try and beat this!”

Despite Mabel’s confidence in her success, there was one thing that she could have never counted on. And that thing was the fact that Stan already knew very well what he was doing when he had struck the bet with her. He had already devised a sure fire plan to make more money than her from step one, and that plan just so happened to involve him landing a spot on his favorite game show: Cash Wheel.

However, what the conman hadn’t accounted for was such a lengthy audition line to stand between him at that spot. “Ugh! This line is taking forever!” Stan grumbled to himself, knowing he only had three days. “Time to use my old man powers… Ah! I’m having a heart attack!” the conman shouted, putting on a fairly convincing show as he clutched his chest and collapsing to the ground. “And the only known cure is to be a contestant on… Cash Wheel! Augh! Someone give me a part! I’m old!”

Of course, the scene Stan was putting on caught the attention of everyone around him as a large, worried crowd gathered all around him. Fortunately, the show’s producer happened to be rather close by and also took notice of the rather fake drama unfolding.

“Should we escort him off the lot?” the producer’s assistant asked.

“That man is a self-centered attention hog with no regard for human decency,” the producer said with a scowl that soon turned to a grin. “Get him on TV!”

With their monster hunting mission in mind, Dipper and Connie set out on the mystery kart, equipped with really only the journal, the flail, and their own wits to aid them in their task. Still, neither of them were too perturbed or anxious. After all, they were starting to get used to dealing with the more life-threatening facets of Gravity Falls on nearly a daily basis.

“So what kind of monster are we looking for anyway?” Connie asked, peering around the darkened forest with her binoculars.

“I don’t know,” Dipper shrugged. “Any monster we can find, I guess. The journal’s full of all sorts of tips and tricks for capturing mythical creatures, so I figure that if we stick to its advice, we’re bound to turn up with something.”

“Oh good,” Connie said with relative relief. “So, what? Are we gonna build some kind of elaborate trap and hide out in the trees until we catch something?”

“Actually, I was thinking something a little more simple…” Dipper said as they arrived in a large clearing and got out of the kart. “Like… a tiger trap.”

“A tiger trap?” Connie asked incredulously. “Isn’t that basically just a hole in the ground?”

“Yeah,” Dipper admitted, grabbing a shovel from the back of the cart and handing another one to Connie. “But the journal advises that the best way to catch any kind of monster is to keep your trap as simple as possible. That way the monster won’t see it coming, which means it’ll just walk right into it!”

“Huh. I guess that makes sense,” Connie shrugged as they began to dig. It took around two hours, but in time, they eventually managed to dig a hole several feet deep and several feet wide, one that would hopefully suffice for their purposes.

“Well, this ought to help us nab at least a gnome or a troll,” Dipper concluded as him and Connie climbed out of the whole. “Maybe a werewolf, if we’re lucky.”

“Still, we should probably cover it up with leaves or something,” Connie mused, looking over the trap. “A hole this big would be kind of obvious…”

“Oh, good idea!” Dipper nodded in agreement. “Have you done this before, Connie?”

“No, have you?”

“Not really…”

“Well then this will be a learning experience for both of us,” Connie laughed. Knowing they had little time to waste, the pair worked quickly in covering up their trap with foliage. Once they were satisfied with their work, they retreated to hide just out of sight behind a large, nearby tree. After waiting a minute or two, they finally peered out from behind the tree, only to see that the trap had remained untouched.

“Maybe we should have set some bait out or something…” Dipper mused, leafing through the journal once more. “We could probably catch a moth man if we had a really bright light…”

“Dipper, what if this doesn’t end up working?” Connie asked, voicing her newfound concern.

“Oh don’t worry,” Dipper reassured. “It’s going to work.”

“Ok, but-”

“Connie, you don’t understand,” Dipper said, his tone suddenly quite tense. “This has to work. Mabel can’t lose the bet! I can’t go back to back to wearing that wolf boy costume! I just can’t!”

Connie said nothing for a moment, looking to Dipper with apt concern after this outburst. However, before she could ask if he was alright, a loud crash from nearby startled them both quite a bit.

“The trap!” they both gasped in unison, looking out from behind the trees to see that their trap had indeed worked. The upper half of a horrific monstrosity was squeezed into the hole, growling in an angry, blind panic as it tried to wriggle its way out. The monster was quite unlike anything either of the kids had ever seen before, with long, deadly fangs, a hideous, ghoulish face, and a huge, hulking body that only barely fit into the trap.

“I can’t believe it…” Connie muttered, awstuck as she adjusted the frames of her glasses. “We did it! We actually caught a monster!”

“This isn’t just an ordinary monster…” Dipper flipped through the journal, just as amazed. “This is a… a Gremloblin!”

“A… what?”

“A Gremloblin!” he repeated excitedly, showing her the journal page detailing the beast. “Apparently its’ one of the rarest monsters in Gravity Falls! The author wrote about how he nearly died fighting one!”

“O-ok…” Connie frowned, taking a nervous glance over at the outraged Gremloblin. “So how are we supposed to get it back to the shack?”

“Oh, right…” Dipper’s elation over their capture wore off as he glanced around for something they could use to get the monster out of the pit. “That’s it!” he exclaimed, running back to the golf cart and retrieving the large sack they had brought along. “I’ve seen Stan use this trick on Soos before,” he said to Connie, handing her the other edge of the sack. “We just need to be really careful. Gremloblins are pretty violent when they’re angry.”

“Yeah I could have guessed that…” Connie took in a deep, uneven breath as they both approached the still struggling Gremloblin. The monster continued to roar and thrash about, but ultimately it could do nothing as the kids threw the sack over its head. And miraculously enough, as soon as its eyes were covered, the Gremloblin stopped its squirming and instantly fell asleep.

“Yes!” the kids cheered over their success, exchanging a high five.

“Now all we have to do is tie this thing to the back of the cart and haul it back to the shack,” Dipper said with apt satisfaction as they prepared to do so. “With this Gremloblin, there’s no way Mabel can lose that bet!”

Considering the fact that she had quite a few hands to help her, Mabel found that running the shack was surprisingly easier than she had thought it would be. Since her employees were already quite satisfied with the benefits she had given them, she had relatively nothing to worry about on that front, leaving her time to focus on pleasing incoming customers. Without Stan hovering over her shoulder, Mabel found that she was free to be as kind to the tourists as she wanted, which warranted quite a few tips in addition to the regular price of admission.

“Thank you!” Mabel exclaimed warmly, collecting tips from customers at the tail end of the tour. “See you soon! Invite your friends! Tell ‘em Mabel sent you!”

As the tourists left, Mabel grinned at the money in her profits jar. She still had a good ways to go before reaching the top, but at the very least she had a decent enough start and plenty of time left. She had no way of knowing how well Stan was doing on his end of things, but she was confident that he likely wasn’t coming anywhere close to the level of success she was at.

“Mabel!” Dipper called as him and Connie returned, working together to drag a heavy sack behind them. “We captured something! This is gonna blow those tourists away!”

“And if it doesn’t, then it’ll at least probably surprise them as much as it surprised us,” Connie remarked with a grin.

Before Mabel could express her gratitude, the monster inside the bag let out a fierce roar and grabbed the closest thing to it, which just so happened to be Dipper’s arm.

“Whoa!” Mabel gasped, alarmed.

“Oh no, not again!” Dipper exclaimed, struggling against the monster’s firm grip. “Connie-”

“On it!” Connie took a nearby stick and began beating the monster with it repeatedly until it finally let go. “Whew! You know, maybe we should put this thing in a cage before it breaks out of that sack… We don’t really have a bunch of holes on hand to trap it in again.”

“Good point,” Dipper said, breathing a sigh of relief as he rubbed his arm. “Come on, big guy,” he said to the still growling monster as him and Connie continued dragging it inside.

“Marvelous work, valued employees!” Mabel called after them with a delighted smile. “Oh, who is that?” she gasped, turning towards the outhouse with a knowing grin. “Is it Questiony the Question Mark?”

Soos frowned as he peeked out from behind the outhouse. “Um… I’m starting to have second thoughts about this, Mabel. I keep forgetting my lines, and this costume is more, uh… revealing than I expected…” Hesitantly, the handyman stepped out from his hiding spot, revealing that his question mark costume really only covered a small portion of his otherwise only underwear clad body.

“Soos, don’t give up!” Mabel encouraged exuberantly. “Anything is possible when you…” she paused, flipping through her management book briefly to find the right words to say. “Imaginize it!”

“…I don’t know what that means…”

“Shh…” Mabel quieted him, putting a finger to his lips. “Shhhhhhhhh…. Believe in yourself…” She whispered, briefly placing her hands against his face before walking away backwards. “Believe!”

“B-but I…!” Soos tried to protest, though Mabel wasn’t listening as she went inside. “S-so cold…” he muttered, shivering as his costume exposed him to the elements.

“How’s my favorite Wendy?” Mabel asked blithely as she entered the shack, only to find a disastrous sight. Wendy had indeed followed along with what Mabel had said and invited several of her friends to hang out with her on the clock, however, they were doing far more than just that. Wendy, along with Lee, Nate, Thompson, Tambry, Sour Cream, Jenny, and Buck were all engage in playing a round of hacky sack with a shrunken head, effectively wrecking the shack and terrorizing its customers in the process. The game eventually got out of control as the head flew haywire, striking a nearby young boy squarely in the face, much to his mother’s alarm.

“Oh my gosh!” Mabel gasped, hurrying over to the upset mother and child. “I’m so sorry. Please, have a refund!” She reached into the profits jar, pulling out a wad of cash, only for the mother to take that and then some before angrily leaving. Resolved to be firm but fair, Mabel approached Wendy, who was casually relaxing against the counter. “Wendy, you have a lot of cleaning up to do. Please?” she asked as nicely as possible.

“Whoa, all this rule stuff is starting to make you sound like Stan,” Wendy pointed out with a critical frown.

“What?! No!” Mabel exclaimed. “I’m nothing like Stan! In fact… t-take the rest of the day off?”

“…With full pay?”

Mabel swallowed nervously, knowing that agreeing to such a proposition would cost her in the end. But even so, she definitely didn’t want to be compared to her uncle and how he ran things at the shack. “O-of course,” she tentatively nodded, adjusting her suit jacket. “Have… have a great time!”

Wendy grinned widely upon hearing this, giving Mabel a thumbs up as she headed out and took all of her friends with her. Mabel let out an allayed sigh, hoping that she had done the right thing in the end. “Mabel Pines, you are the best boss ever,” she asserted, giving herself a pat on the back, failing to notice Soos try his routine out one last time behind her.

“I’m Questiony the Question Mark!” the handyman shouted at a random tourist, who screamed in terror and sprayed him with a healthy round of pepper spray. “Aw dude, it stings so bad!”

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m Rich Richerson and welcome to CASH WHEEL!” the gameshow host announced as the fanfare played and the audience applauded. “Now let’s meet those contestants!”

“I’m Doug from Fairfield, California,” the first contestant introduced himself as his name appeared onscreen.

“I’m Donna from-”

“I’m Stan!” the conman interrupted boisterously, pushing the second contestant out of the way. “Stan Pines! Ha ha!” Stan hurried back to his place as his own name appeared onscreen. “Did we—did we already do me? Hi, I’m Stan!”

Rich laughed rather uncomfortably at this unscripted interruption, but even so, the show went on. “Okay, it’s going to be a long night, folks.” Of course, the audience laughed heartily at this before the host continued. “It’s time to solve-” Rich found himself being interrupted this time as Stan let out a loud, somewhat obnoxious delayed laugh. “…It’s, uh… time to solve that puzzle! Carla!”

“Yes, Rich?” the co-host asked at the puzzle board.

“Are there any s’es?!” Stan cut in boldly.

“Actually, its not your turn yet,” Rich pointed out. Still, two s’es appeared on the puzzle board, prompting Stan to shout out of turn once more.

“I’m ready to solve!”

“No, that game hasn’t started-”

“Is it… ‘shut your yaps?”

Somehow, the conman’s guess was right on the money as the answer appeared on the board exactly as how he had said it. “Well played…” Rich noted with a smile.

Already knowing how the game worked, Stan gave the wheel a spin, chanting excitedly all the while. “Cash shower! Cash shower! Cash shower!”

“Cash shower!” Rich announced as the wheel landed on the coveted spot.

“Yes! Don’t mind if I do,” Stan grinned as he began to undress, perceiving it to be a literal cash shower.

“Mr. Pines?” Rich asked in sudden concern. “No! You don’t need to take your clothes off!” Quickly, the host hurried to block the camera’s view of the conman before he could fully undress. “Go to commercial! Go to commercial!”

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Dipper caught the attention of two tourists meandering about the museum as him and Connie stood near the Gremloblin’s covered cage. “My name’s Honest Dipper and this is my partner, Reliable Connie.”

“And we have something to show you that is certain to be unlike anything you’ve ever seen before!” Connie added with an enthusiastic smile.

“Unlike my cheating uncle, we’ve come across something that isn’t a hoax,” Dipper said with apt confidence. “It nearly killed us getting him into that cage.”

“And he’s not exaggerating either,” Connie said. “We have scratch and bite marks to show for it!”

“Behold!” Dipper exclaimed, removing the cover from the cage. “Part gremlin, part goblin: the Gremloblin!”

The Gremloblin, now fully awake, let out a fierce roar as he thrashed about his cage, beating the sides of it in a vain attempt to escape. As he struggled, he ended up spitting up the bony remains of a human arm, which landed right in front of the pair of tourists.

“Well that’s fun,” the man remarked with a grin.

“It’s fake, honey,” the woman rolled her eyes. “You can see the strings.”

“What?!” Dipper exclaimed, appalled. “Those aren’t strings, that’s body hair!”

Still, the couple was hardly paying attention as they headed over to another longstanding fake attraction. “Oh, look at this, dear! The Six-packolope! How charming,” the woman chuckled.

“Wordplay!” the man laughed in amused agreement, snapping a photo of it.

“Seriously?” Connie scoffed in disbelief. “We nearly died trying to capture this thing and they still want the phony stuff?”

“Come on, everything else here is fake!” Dipper protested, dragging the tourists back over to the Gremlobin’s cage. “This is a real paranormal beast. And fun fact about this little guy: if you look into his eyes, you can see your worst nightmare.”

Of course, the couple did so out of sheer curiosity alone, though neither Dipper nor Connie initially noticed their eyes and expressions grow completely blank as the Gremloblin stared back at them. “If that doesn’t prove that this thing is a real monster, I don’t know what will,” Connie remarked, assured.

“Amazing, right?” Dipper asked with a grin, even though neither of them received any sort of response from the tourists. “We work for tips.”

“Um… Are they… ok?” Connie asked, her smile fading after a moment of innocuous silence.

As if turned out, the couple was anything but ok as the Gremlobin’s nightmare viewing ability actually ended up paralyzing both tourists with fear. Despite the kids’ best efforts to revive them, they eventually had to give up and call the ambulance to escort the eternally scarred couple away.

“T-thanks for visiting!” Dipper called after them with a nervous laugh.

“Well… that could have gone a lot better…” Connie said with sigh.

“Tell me about it...”

As Mabel was quickly finding out, having to run the shack effectively on her own was far from smooth sailing, especially since she pretty much had to preside over the gift shop entirely on her own with Wendy gone. Multitasking was anything but easy as she found herself stretched out incredibly thin. From ringing customers out, to maintaining order with reckless patrons, to doling out refunds to unhappy guests, all of it became increasingly harder to stay on top of the more tired she got. Still, she couldn’t give up. After all, the last thing she wanted to do was prove Stan right. She could handle this. She figured that all she had to do was keep up her usual sunny disposition, and everything would turn out fine in the end.

At least, she hoped.

Finally the heavy round of customers gradually dissipated, giving Mabel a much needed moment to breath. She let out an exhausted sigh as she collapsed against the counter, barely even regarding Dipper and Connie as they came in and joined her.

“Well, we just made two people go insane,” Dipper said glumly. “How about you?”

“I’m so tired…” Mabel groaned. “I gave Wendy the day off so I had to do her job.”

“What about the Gems?” Connie asked. “Maybe you could get one of them to help you out.”

“Yeah, I guess I could…” Mabel mused. However, before she could even decide on which one to look for, a delivery man entered the gift shop, toting a very large crate with him.

“Delivery for a Miss… Pearl?” the delivery man asked, reading his clipboard.

“Oh, that’s for me!” the white Gem grinned cheerfully as she entered from the den. “You can just leave this and the other boxes right in here, thank you.”

“Uh, Pearl? What did you order?” Dipper asked curiously.

“I think the better question would be, what didn’t I order!” Pearl exclaimed with an excited grin, that only grew as she summoned her spear and used it to slit the first box open. “I went on that electronic communication hub where humans preform commerce and other various tasks… oh, what is it called again? The outerweb?”

“You mean the internet?” Connie corrected.

“Oh, yes, that’s it!” the white Gem nodded. “Anyway, while I was there I came across so many wonderful things that we can use to spruce this dirty old place up. Antique chairs, plus floor rugs, elegant lighting fixtures… I think one of these boxes even has a fountain in it…”

“Whoa, Pearl, that sounds awesome!” Mabel exclaimed, delighted. “All that cool stuff is bound to bring all kinds of new customers to the shack!”

“Wait… Pearl, where did you get all the money for this stuff?” Connie asked with a concerned frown.

“Oh, well I got it from the profits jar, of course!” Pearl remarked, still smiling. However, the kids were far from happy to hear this disastrous news as they all looked to her with dismayed disbelief. “Is… is there a problem?”

“Pearl, we need that money so we can beat Grunkle Stan in the bet!” Mabel reminded. “Ok, ok… This is fine… Just… how much money did you take?”

“Um… all of it…” the white Gem admitted, realizing her mistake. “Oh… Oops… Sorry.”

“Well, we could probably still return all this stuff and get a refund, right?” Connie suggested.

“Oh, yes! Good idea, Connie!” Pearl smiled in relief. “I’ll track that delivery man down right now and ask him to give me a refund! And if he refuses, I’ll make him give us our money back.”

“Pearl, that’s not how-” Dipper tried to advise, but the white Gem had already run out on her new mission. “Well, at least things… probably can’t get any worse, right?”

Of course, no sooner than a second after he had asked this, a large crowd of screaming tourists emerged from the museum, half of them either crying or seething with rage. The group sped past the confused kids, all of them trying to get out as quickly as possible.

“Aw, come on!” Amethyst shouted after them as she came out of the museum herself. “You all need to grow some spines, you chickens!” At this, the purple Gem shapeshifted into a chicken, bawking and laughing mockingly all the while.

“Amethyst, what happened?” Mabel asked, shocked at all of the customers they had suddenly lost.

“I’ll tell ya what happened,” Amethyst remarked, shapeshifting back into herself. “Those guys were all a bunch of scaredy cats. All I did was shapeshift into a few of the things on the tour, and suddenly they get all screamy on me. Babies.”

“What did you shapeshift into that scared them so much?” Connie asked worriedly.

“Oh just this gross old thing,” the purple Gem shrugged, seamlessly changing her shape into one of the museum’s unknown, most bizarre exhibits, a grotesque creature with several faces, arms, and legs. The kids all gasped in horror as they took a step away from Amethyst, who simply snickered mischeviously before transforming back into her regular shape. “What do you know? You guys are bunch of chickens too!”

“Amethyst, you can’t just scare our customers away like that!” Mabel chastised. “We need to be nice to them! We need to-” she paused, looking through Succeeding in Management once more. “Delightretain them!”

“Hey, you told me to do whatever I wanted. And besides, I’m not the only one to blame here,” Amethyst said defensively. “Right, G?”

“Eh,” Garnet shrugged as she entered from the museum herself, still clad in her cape and turban.

“Oh no,” Mabel frowned, knowing that the last thing she needed was more bad news. “Garnet, please, please tell me that everything is going great with the Future Visionary.”

“Mm… not exactly…” Garnet admitted.

“She kinda kept telling people the worst futures she could see for them,” Amethyst informed casually. “It was pretty funny if you ask me.”

“That’s what they asked for, so that’s what I gave them,” the Gem leader said apathetically.

“Oh, G, tell them about that one guy who asked you about proposing to his girlfriend and how you told him he was gonna screw it up and get stung by a whole hive of bees!” Amethyst chuckled. “The way he ran off crying was hilarious!”

“Garnet, people don’t wanna hear about all the bad stuff that might happen,” Mabel said as calmly as she could in this situation. “They wanna know about the good futures!”

“But the future isn’t always good,” Garnet argued. “I was just being honest with them.”

“Well, that’s good!” Mabel encouraged with a small smile. “But maybe you could try being a little more… tactful with them too? Other than that, you’re doing a super job!”

“So what are we going to do now?” Dipper asked Mabel with a concerned frown as Garnet and Amethyst returned to the museum. “All of our customers are gone!”

“Did someone say ‘customers’?!” Steven exclaimed as he burst into the gift shop with Lion.

“Oh, Steven!” Mabel sighed with overwhelming relief as she ran over to him. “Thank goodness you’re back! Did you find any new customers in town?”

“I sure did!” the young Gem proudly proclaimed, stepping aside. “Ok, you guys! Come on in!”

As it turned out, all of the “customers” Steven had managed to rustle up happened to be large, bulky, intimidating thugs, all of them clad in biker gear and tattoos and none of them looking very friendly. “Remember a few weeks ago when we were looking for the wax heads and we stopped at that biker joint downtown?” Steven said to the others as they watched the bikers rush in. “Well, I decided to round up all of the friends I made when we were there and bring them to see the Mystery Shack! Look how excited they all are!”

“We wanna see some weird stuff!” one of the bikers roared, punching the nearby wall and creating a sizable hole.

“Heh, bobble bobble,” another thug laughed, playing with a bobble head until it inevitably broke.

“Hey, are you gonna finish that?’ one biker asked his buddy for his can of soda.

“No! You can’t have it!” Without much prompting at all, the two thugs broke into a rather violent fist fight, breaking several shelves and displays in their wake.

“Aw… they’re having so much fun already!” Steven quipped with an oblivious smile. Mabel, on the other hand, was not so charmed by their unintentionally destructive behavior.

“Ah! Ok, hey, you guys!” she shouted at the thugs to get their attention. “Hi! Um…. How about you all go check out the museum, huh? There’s plenty of really cool, weird things to see in there!”

Of course, the thugs were more than taken in by this suggestion as they all rushed towards the museum, shouting amongst themselves and briefly getting stuck in the door before going on inside. “That can only end well…” Connie remarked a bit sarcastically as the four of them all stood alone in the semi-wrecked gift shop.

“I know, right?” Steven asked blithely.

“Ok…” Mabel took in a deep breath to try and steady her frazzled nerves. “So things aren’t going exactly as I hoped they would… But that’s not the end of the world, right? At least I’m not running around here yelling at everyone.”

“I dunno, Mabel…” Dipper mused with a frown. “That might actually be the reason why everything’s going so badly… Maybe what you need to do is start being a little tougher around here.”

“No way!” Mabel protested earnestly. “That’s what Stan would do! I just need to think positive, be friendly, and everything will work out fine.”

No more than a second later, however, a loud roar suddenly sounded, though that paled in comparison to the monster that suddenly crashed through the nearby wall, scaring all four of the kids. The Gremloblin stormed into the gift shop, snarling savagely with its deadly claws poised to attack the first thing it saw. Fortunately, the kids just barely managed to avoid its detection as they snuck past it and hid just out of its sight in the den.

“Whoa!” Steven gasped as he peered behind the broken wall. “What is that thing? It looks so cool!”

“It’s the monster me and Dipper caught in the forest,” Connie explained in a hushed whisper, not too keen on being caught by the violent creature.  

“You caught that huge thing by yourselves?” the young Gem asked, amazed. “You guys are so awesome!

“But I don’t understand,” Dipper shook his head, confused. “How did it break out of its locked cage?”

“Well…” Mabel began somewhat guiltily. “I might have maybe… put a key in his cage for his five minute break…”

“You gave him a break?!” Dipper asked in disbelief.

“He’s an employee too!” Mabel protested defensively. “Sort of.”

“Aw man! He’s eating all the donuts from the snack table!” Steven exclaimed, watching the monster raid all of the snacks. “We have to stop him!”

“B-but how?” Connie asked, aptly afraid. “That thing is bigger than all of us combined!”

“Well it’s not too big for us.” The kids gasped as they turned to see Garnet and Amethyst standing behind them, their weapons already summoned as they stood ready to fight the monster.

“Whoa, is that a Gremloblin?” Amethyst asked, looking to the monster. “Dude, it’s been years since we’ve fought one of those!”

“Just remember,” Garnet advised her teammate. “Don’t look into its eyes.”

“You got it, G!” Amethyst smirked, lashing her whip out as she swung into the gift shop with gusto.

“Stay here,” the Gem leader ordered the kids firmly. “And keep out of sight until we’re done.”

None of the kids argued this time, given how dangerous of a monster the Gremloblin was, as the pair of Gems engaged the beast in combat. Garnet delivered the first blow, landing a swift punch to the monster’s jaw, though it hardly fazed him. Amethyst attempted to incapacitate it by tying up its legs and knocking it over, but the Gremloblin lashed out and severed her whip with his claws before she could.

“Geez, this guy is a fighter,” Amethyst remarked, summoning a new whip. “Hey, where’s Pearl at? She’s missing out on all the action!”

“What do you mean you can’t give me a refund?!” the white Gem asked hotly as she kept the delivery man pinned to a tree.

“M-ma’am, I already told you!” the frightened man gulped nervously, glancing over at his turned over truck nearby. “I’m just the delivery guy! I don’t sell the merchandise, I just deliver it!”

“So then who do I talk to about getting our money back?” Pearl asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

“Uh, the companies that you bought all of that stuff from?”

“Hm,” the white Gem finally released the delivery man. “Very well then. I’ll go talk to these ‘companies’… But if you’re lying to me, then I’ll be back. I can promise you that.”

The delivery man simply nodded, still shaken from the experience as Pearl stormed off, muttering bitterly to herself all the while. “I don’t care how far I have to go or who I have to confront…” she said with determination. “I’m not about to let Mabel lose that bet and end up working for Stan for a month! I will get that refund, no matter what!”

All the kids could really do as the fight between the Gems and the Gremloblin began to drag on was spectate from the den and cheer the Gems on from the side. As strong and skilled as Garnet and Amethyst were, the Gremloblin was a formidable beast, one that they were finding was becoming quite difficult to best between just the two of them. The pair of Gems were getting more than their fair share of beatings, which certainly didn’t help things as the gift shop itself was also taking quite a bit of damage in the battle.

“Ugh, this is taking forever!” Amethyst groaned in exasperation after having hit the monster for what seemed like the hundredth time. “That’s it! I’m goin’ in for the kill!”

“Amethyst, wait!” Garnet tried to warn, already knowing what might happen. But even so, the purple Gem launched herself right at the Gremloblin, who met her attack solely by locking eyes with her. Amethyst froze in midair at this, her eyes going blank as a short gasp escaped her. A moment later, she crashed to the ground, seemingly unconscious even as Garnet hurried over to her. “Amethyst, I told you not to-”

“No!” the purple Gem suddenly shouted, slapping Garnet’s hand away from her. “Get away! Leave me alone!”

“Amethyst, it’s me,” Garnet tried to calmly rationalize, knowing well what the Gremloblin had done to her. “You’re safe.”

“Get away from me!” Amethyst hissed once more, trying in vain to shove the Gem leader away. “I don’t wanna go with you or be like them! Just GO!”

Garnet sighed, knowing that only time would be able to heal the purple Gem. And as long as they were locked in combat with the Gremloblin, time wouldn’t be a luxury they would have. “Kids, listen!” she called, standing as she picked the still struggling Amethyst up. “Amethyst is hurt and I need to take her back to the temple so she can recover!”

“But what about the monster?!” Mabel exclaimed, dismayed.

“You can handle it,” the Gem leader reassured. “I promise. We’ll be back later!”

“But Garnet, wait!” Mabel tried to race after the Gem leader as she ran out, only to be pulled back behind the wall by Connie.

“You probably don’t wanna go there, Mabel,” Connie said with a frown, nodding to the distracted Gremloblin.

“Well, I guess we have to round him up on our own now,” Dipper concluded with a sigh. “Where’s Soos?”

“He was stressed out so I told him to take a soothing nature walk,” Mabel admitted sheepishly.

“Seriously?!” Dipper exclaimed, unable to comprehend any of his sister’s poor business choices.

“Come on, you guys,” Steven tried to encourage. “Let’s look on the bright side of all this! We… Um… uh…. Actually, I really can’t think of any bright sides this time.”

Distraught and exasperated, all four of the kids let out a shared sigh as they leaned against the wall, taking solace only in the fact that the Gremloblin didn’t know they were there. Of course, to add insult to injury, the nearby TV just so happened to confirm something that made the situation even more dire as Cash Wheel was on.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Stan Pines is poised to become our grand champion!” Rich announced to the viewing audience. “Anything to say to your fans out there?” he asked Stan.

“See you tomorrow night, Mabel,” Stan smirked smugly, looking to the camera and holding up the loser shirt.

“Oh come on!” Mabel groaned, knowing that she would lose the bet for sure at this rate. Of course, in the gift shop, the Gremloblin continued his mindless rampage, throwing merchandise around and knocking over shelves. However, what broke the camel’s back for Mabel was the fact that the monster had managed to find her prized sticker collection and was pilfering through it, putting random stickers on his face. “What do we do?!” she gasped, alarmed. “He’s awarding himself stickers he didn’t even earn!”

“Wait! Dipper, we used the journal to help us capture the Gremloblin,” Connie said, thinking quickly. “So maybe we can use it to get rid of it too!”

“Good idea,” Dipper nodded in agreement, taking the journal out. “Ok, uh…. Got it! When fighting a Gremloblin use water…”

On this suggestion alone, Mabel rushed out with Steven as her backup to confront the Gremloblin with a cup of water. However, instead of recoiling in pain, the monster only let out an agitated roar.

“…Only as a last resort as water will make it much, much scarier?!” Dipper finished reading as he turned the next page. “What?! Who writes sentences like that?!”

And indeed, the water did end up making the Gremloblin much more horrifying as her grew long spines on his back and seemed to double twice in size. Terrified, Steven and Mabel rushed back for cover, watching in fear as the monster destroyed the nearby clock with his fiery breath.

“So… what’s the new plan?” Steven asked apprehensively. “Just wait him out?”

“I guess that’s the only thing we really can do now,” Dipper shrugged. “I mean, he’s gotta leave eventually, right?”

“I’m the singin’ salmon spendin’ all day jammin’,” the talking fish head sang for the hundredth time as the Gremloblin pressed the button once more. “I’m the singin’ salmon spendin’ all day jammin’.”

Meanwhile, the kids all let out another unified groan as they sat against the wall, just as they had been for the past several hours. While the Gremloblin had found a rather aggravating way to entertain itself, none of them still wanted to take a chance in trying to subdue it, since they had all seen what had happened to Amethyst earlier. So all they could really do was sit by and wait for the monster to finally depart, which he apparently had no intentions of doing considering his fascination with the singing salmon.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m getting really tired of listening to that song,” Connie said with an irritated frown.

“I don’t get it, why doesn’t he just leave?” Mabel groaned in exasperation. However, as she looked around the wall once again, she happened to see something that made her practically freeze in shock. The Gremloblin had at last frown tired of the singing salmon and had instead focused its attention on the profits jar sitting on the counter. While there wasn’t much left in there thanks to Pearl, there was a little money from the thugs earlier. And unfortunately, the monster had decided that money was going to be its next snack. “Our profits!” Mabel gasped, thoughtlessly hurrying out from their hiding place to rescue them.

“Mabel, wait!” Dipper called, though Mabel hardly heeded him as she ran up to the monster.

“Stop!” she demanded, only for the much bigger Gremloblin to grab her in one swipe of his massive hand.

“Oh no!” Steven cried fearfully. “Mabel!”

“Don’t look into his evil eye!” Dipper warned. “You’ll see your worst nightmare!”

“I wish we had an evil eye to show him!” Mabel remarked crossly, glaring at the Gremloblin. Unfortunately though, the monster locked gazes with her, starting to give her a glimpse of her nightmares despite her struggling to look away.

“We gotta do something!” Steven exclaimed.

“Yeah, but what?” Connie asked, aptly panicked.

“Wait!” Dipper cut in. “I have an idea, but I need you guys to distract him.”

“Really?” Connie asked in dismay.

“We’re on it!” Steven gave a thumbs up, already running out into the fray. “Hey, Mr. Monster Guy! Look at me! I’m super distracting!”

“Oh boy…” Connie sighed, tentatively heading out into the open and running around to the Gremloblin’s other side. “Wait! Look at me instead! I’m more distracting!”

“No, I am!” Steven laughed, jumping up and down and waving his arms as the monster kept switching his focus between the two of them.

“No, me!” Connie argued with a small, amused smile, glad that the Gremloblin never looked at either of them long enough to ensure nightmares. Fortunately, Dipper soon came in with his plan as he ran up to the monster himself with a mirror in hand.

“Hey, monster!” he shouted brazenly. “Take a look at this!” As the Gremloblin set its sights on Dipper, he held up the mirror, allowing the monster to take in his own nightmare inducing gaze. The monster let out a horrified scream as it dropped Mabel, petrified by its deepest fears as it somehow sprouted a large pair of wings and flew off, breaking another large hole in the wall.

“Yay!” Steven cheered triumphantly. “We did it! We got him to go away!”

“And hey, at least he didn’t do too much damage,” Dipper pointed out, just as relieved. Of course, as the Gremloblin was flying off, it just so happened to ram into the totem pole outside, breaking its top off and causing to fall onto a car in the parking lot below.  

“…Yikes…” Connie remarked with a frown, not even wanting to know how much money that would cost them.

“You guys, it’s the third day!” Mabel exclaimed frantically. “We’ve only got 7 hours left to earn back our profits, or I gotta wear that loser shirt all summer!”

“And we’ll have to work in this filthy dump for a month!” Pearl practically wailed as her, Garnet, and Amethyst returned.

“Hey, you guys are back!” Steven grinned cheerfully. “Amethyst, are you feeling better?”

The purple Gem said nothing as she cast a bitter glare towards the floor, so instead Garnet answered for her. “She’s fine.”

“Hey guys!” Wendy greeted casually as her and Soos walked in. “Am I nuts or does this place look different?”

“Oh boy, am I glad to see all of you guys!” Mabel sighed in relief, overjoyed to have all of her employees back. “We’ve got a lot of work to do, but if we hurry, we can still beat Stan!”

“Uh, yeah…” Wendy frowned unenthusiastically. “I’ve got a little headache, so maybe I should like, not work today.”

“I dunno if I’m really feeling up to it either, you know?” Amethyst finally spoke up. “Especially after what happened yesterday.”

“And I never got that refund!” Pearl exclaimed, crossing her arms. “How was I supposed to know that you’re supposed to pay for purchases on the internet with a ‘credit card’? Whatever that is…”

“And I actually just met this pack of wolves, and I think they’re gonna like, raise me as one of their own,” Soos said with a shrug. “So I should really be at the den right now.”

“B-but…” Mabel tried to protest, but even so, the others were already on their way out.

“But hey,” Wendy said with a smile. “See ya on Monday.”

“Uh, BTDubs,” Soos said, pointing to the stray donuts on the floor. “Is anyone gonna eat these?”

Upon hearing all this, something inside of Mabel seemed to finally snap along with the pencil gripped tightly in her hand. She had tried her best to be agreeable and nice, and in the end it had gotten her nowhere. So now, the only thing she could do was be the exact opposite of nice. It was time for her to get mean. “Enough!” she shouted, stopping everyone in their tracks. “I have had it! I fought a monster to save this business, and this is how you all repay me?! I’m gonna get an ulcer from your lollygagging!”

“Whoa…” Amethyst muttered, stunned at this outburst.

“Lollygagging?” Wendy repeated, confused.

“Ulcer?” Soos asked with a frown. “You’re acting… different.”

“You shut your yaps!” Mabel demanded harshly. “I’ve been doing everyone’s jobs while you bums have been bleeding me dry!”

“But we-” Wendy tried to get a word in edgewise, but Mabel simply wasn’t having it.

“No buts except yours on the floor cleaning! Now quit loafing and get to work!”

“Y-yes, Mabel!” the cashier exclaimed, honestly somewhat terrified after all this.

“That’s yes, boss!” For emphasis, Mabel threw her fist down on the counter, which happened to cause Stan’s fez to fly up and land squarely on her head. As she adjusted it and glanced at her reflection in the nearby mirror, she let out a horrified gasp, realizing that she had done the one thing she had promised herself not to. She had followed in her grunkle’s sullen footsteps. “Dipper… what have I become?”

“What you had to, Mabel,” Dipper said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “What you had to.”

“Yeah, just… please don’t ever do that again, Mabel,” Steven frowned. “That… that was really scary…”

“If it’s the only way I can win this bet, then I’ll do what I gotta,” Mabel said with cold resolve. “We’ve got seven hours to turn this around. Let’s go, people!”

Back on Cash Wheel, Stan was reveling in how well he was doing. He had already surpassed every single other contestant by a mile, essentially beating the game thanks to his own luck and wit. He had already racked up a huge sum of money, enough that he was sure it would easily trump whatever Mabel had made and then some. Which was why he wasn’t really surprised when the wheel landed on Cash Flood yet again after his spin.

“Ha ha! I’m giving none of this to charity!” the conman exclaimed gleefully, more than happy to let the pile of money fall on him.

“And now you can go home a thousandaire!” Rich exclaimed with a smile. “Or you could risk everything to double your money with the bonus word!”

“Rich, I’m a simple man,” Stan said, feigning his conclusion. “So I’m gonna take my winnings, pack my bags, and… bet them all on the bonus word!”

Since assigning everyone to jobs they would have enjoyed most ended up in disaster, Mabel took an entirely new approach in reorganizing everyone to fix up the shack and regain their profits. She had already put Wendy back on register in the gift shop and had Connie managing their funds rather than Pearl. As for the Gems themselves, Mabel had reached the realization that interacting with the tourists wasn’t really their strong suit. So instead, she employed them in a task that they were much more equipped to handle.

“Time is money, you three!” Mabel shouted to the Gems through her megaphone, supervising them as they repaired the shack’s busted wall. “You got complaints? File them with the complaints department!” With a firm scowl, she held up a trash bin, letting out a tired groan as she did so. “Ugh, my back.”

“Yeesh, she’s going a kinda far with all this, don’t ya think?” Amethyst muttered to Pearl and Garnet as they hammered beams back in place.

“It’s still better than the prospect of having to work for Stan for an entire month,” the white Gem remarked, cringing. “Also, Garnet, why are you still wearing those?” she frowned at the Gem leader, who was still clad in her cape and turban.

“They make me feel… important,” Garnet replied with a shrug.

“Cut the chatter over there!” Mabel called sullenly. “We’re burning good daylight!”

“You heard her,” Garnet said to her teammates, shoving the wall into its correct position.

“Dipper!” Mabel shouted to her nearby brother as a tour bus pulled up to the shack. “We’ve got tourists at 9 o’clock!”

“But what do I show them?” Dipper asked with a frown. “Real magic just freaks people out.”

“Figure something out, knucklehead!” Mabel retorted, much like Stan would have. But even so, Dipper did as she said and came up with a new idea, one that would hopefully be much more of a success than the Gremloblin was.

“Ladies and gentle-tourists!” Dipper addressed the large crowd of customers, which also consisted of many of the bikers Steven had brought in earlier. Much like Mabel, he had decided to take a page from Stan by looking the part with a flashy suit and eyepatch, as well as throwing on the false charm that the conman was famous for. “This shack is full of wonders never before seen by human eyes! Be amazed at Bubble Boy, who’s spent his entire life living in his giant pink bubble!”

“Woo!” Steven cheered as the tourists headed over to his display. The young Gem had summoned his bubble and used it to blithely roll around on the small circular track the Gems had set up. Of course, the concept of Steven living inside of his bubble was a lie, but if Stan could profit off of telling lies on a regular basis, than why couldn’t they? “Look at me! I’ve never seen the outside world before! Ha ha!”

Of course, the tourists were all duly impressed by this “oddity” as they laughed and snapped pictures of the bubbled young Gem. Yet even so, there was still another new premiere attraction for them to see. “Behold! The horrible giant question baby!” Dipper directed the group’s attention over to Soos, who was glad in his question mark costume and little else.

“Am I a man? Am I a baby?” Soos asked the crowed, as rehearsed. “These are legitimate questions.”

The tourists were equally as awestruck by the handyman, prompting Dipper to come up with another way to “bleed ‘em dry”, as Stan would say. “Have your picture taken with either of them for a buck,” he said, though he quickly corrected himself, knowing they needed to make money much quicker than that. “Uh, ten bucks. No, a hundred bucks!”

As gullible as tourists often were, almost every single last one of them fell for it, especially the excitable thugs. In the end, all of the guests left aptly satisfied as the shack’s employees (and temporary employees) saw them off. “We put the fun in no refunds!” Dipper called after them before turning to Mabel. “So how’d we do?”

“We filled the whole jar!” Mabel proclaimed with a huge grin, holding the jar up for them all to see. The others all cheered at this great news, knowing they had all brought back victory from the jaws of certain defeat.

Or so it seemed.

“Ok, so minus the money used to replace all the furniture…” Connie tabbed up the deductions that they would have to make to their profits as everyone waited for the results on baited breath. “As well as the money we lost on all of Pearl’s ‘purchases’…”

“Again, I’m really sorry about that…” the white Gem apologized sheepishly.

“And supplies to fix the shack and that leaves us with…” Connie trailed off, using a calculator to determine the final amount, even though Mabel could already see it for herself as it sat in the bottom of the profits jar.

“One dollar…”

“Oh, come on!” Amethyst huffed in annoyance. “After all that hard work we only ended up with one dumb old dollar!?”

“What are we going to do?!” Pearl asked in alarm. “Certainly Stan made more money than that, which means we’ll have to work here in this… this hovel of filth and lies! I can’t do that, Garnet, I just can’t!”

“Calm down, Pearl,” the Gem leader reassured evenly.

“How can I!? It’s just too horrible to even think about!”

“W-well, maybe we still have a little time left,” Steven suggested hopefully. “I mean, Mr. Pines isn’t back yet-”

“I’m back!” Stan proclaimed, bursting into the gift shop with a wide grin. “Time’s up, kids!”

“Oh no!” Mabel gasped fearfully, knowing that she almost certainly lost.

“Well, that’s it,” Pearl threw her hands up, leaning against Garnet for emotional support. “We’re doomed!”

“Nice to see you learned how to dress while I was gone,” Stan remarked to Dipper, noting his suit.

“So how much did you beat us by?” Mabel asked the conman glumly, ready to accept her defeat.

“I won $300,000!” Stan exclaimed boldly, eliciting a shocked gasp from the others. “And then…”

“For a chance to double your cash or lose it all,” Rich began, introducing the final puzzle. “What is a six-letter word you use to ask for something politely? For example, ‘may I blank have that’?”

“Do I look like an idiot, folks?” Stan asked the audience with a knowing grin. “The answer is ‘gimmee’. Two e’s.”

Of course, the buzzer blared at this incredibly incorrect answer, much to the conman’s surprise. “Oh! You know, because you’ve come this far, we’re gonna give you one more chance,” Rich said sympathetically. “Let’s try again. It’s a ‘P’ word. Some might even say it’s the ‘magic word’…”

“Pabracadabra!” Stan panicked, shouting out the first thing that came to mind. “Final answer!”

The buzzer rang once more, finalizing that the conman had lost it all. “I’m sorry, Stan,” Rich apologized. “But the word is-”

“Please?” Mabel finished with a charming smile, relief filling her as she realized that Stan had come home empty handed.

“Apparently that word can make you money,” Stan rolled his eyes.

“Oh my gosh, that is hilarious!” Amethyst laughed hard, to the point that she was practically rolling on the floor. “I wish I had been there to see it!”

“Pfft, it wasn’t that funny,” the conman remarked crossly.

“So wait,” Dipper interjected. “If you lost everything, then that means… Mabel, you won!”

The others all cheered excitedly at this revelation, all except for Stan who let out a disgruntled sigh. “Oh thank goodness!” Pearl exclaimed, fully allayed. “We don’t have to work in this penny pilfering attraction!”

“Aw man, I still thought it would have been fun,” Amethyst crossed her arms petulantly.

“And who could have guessed that we’d win with only a dollar?” Connie laughed, holding said dollar up.

“Hooray for dollars!” Steven cheered jubilantly as everyone else joined in.

“Wait, what did we win again?” Soos asked after the bout of levity had passed.

“Well, according to our bet, I guess Mabel’s the new boss?” Stan shrugged grouchily.

Of course, everyone was quick to protest this idea, especially Mabel herself, considering how disastrous everything had turned out to be under her control. Stan frowned in confusion at all this, but allowed his niece to explain herself nonetheless.

“Grunkle Stan, I had no idea how hard it was being the boss,” Mabel said earnestly. “This place was cuckoo bananas until I started barking orders at people like you. So… I guess I’m sorry for doubting you…” With a small smile, she handed the conman’s fez back to him, which he gladly took and put back on.

“Yeah, well, I gotta admit,” Stan smirked as he bent down and wrapped his arms around his nibblings. “It’s kinda nice to be back, you know?” The tender moment passed all too quickly as the conman stood, pushing the twins away. “Okay, okay, enough is enough, get off of me! And Soos, Wendy, get back to work! And you three,” he said to the Gems. “Get outta my shack! Ahem, please,” he added, cringing as he said the word. “Ugh! Still hurts just sayin’ that.”

“Now, hold on just a minute, Stan,” Pearl said with a smug smile. “I do recall there being a certain… condition you had to meet if you lost the bet…”

“Oh yeah,” Dipper added, also grinning. “Mabel, didn’t your agreement say something about Stan having to do some kind of apology dance?”

“N-no, it didn’t!” Stan protested.

“Actually, yeah…” Mabel nodded in agreement. “I think I have it in my notes here.”

“No! That never happened!”

“I can’t wait to see your dance, Mr. Pines!” Steven exclaimed cheerfully. “I bet it’ll be great!”

“Oh, yeah, this is gonna be priceless!” Amethyst quipped with a teasing smirk.

“I’ll get the camera!” Wendy laughed, already leaving to get it.

“Alright,” Stan sighed in defeat. “Let me just-” The conman never finished his statement as he instead took off running to avoid having to carry out this embarrassing performance. But even so, Mabel wasn’t about to let him get off the hook so easily.

“Grunkle Stan!”

Fortunately, the Gems helped Mabel out by tracking Stan down and dragging him back to the shack against his will. Even though he complained about it the entire time, the conman begrudgingly put on the gaudy, flashy orange jumpsuit Mabel had picked out for him. And after enough prodding, Stan found himself standing before the camera as Mabel prepared to film him while everyone else watched on in amusement.

“Uh, look,” the conman began, cringing as he looked down at his outfit. “I’m not gonna-”

“Do it!” Mabel shouted fiercely, breaking apart Stan’s resistance as he unenthusiastically began to sing the song she had written for him.

“I’m Stan and I was wrong, I’m singing the Stan Wrong Song,” the conman sang dryly, bouncing up and down in a very minimal dance. “I shouldn’t have taken that chance, now here’s my remorseful dance.”

“Do the kicks!” Mabel ordered from her directors chair. “Jazzier!” she shouted as Stan put forth as minimal effort as possible in his performance.

“Now this is what I call a reward,” Pearl chuckled as her and the Gems watched from behind the scenes.

“Agreed,” Garnet nodded with a smirk.

“Woo! Go Stan!” Amethyst cheered mockingly. “Shake it!”

The conman grumbled in protest to himself as he continued dancing, only for his fez to fall off his head, only to be swiped up by Gompers. “Hey! Gimme that!” Stan shouted, fighting the goat for his hat. “Ow! My back!”

“What do you think?” Mabel asked Waddles, who sat next to her in the assistant director’s chair next to her. The pig simply oinked in response, but it was enough for Mabel. “Good point. Take thirty!”

Next: 

[reomanet]

Andrew Sullivan: America’s New Religions

Andrew Sullivan: America’s New Religions

Political cults are filling the space left by the decline of organized faiths. Photo: Loren Elliott/Getty Images Everyone has a religion. It is, in fact, impossible not to have a religion if you are a human being. It’s in our genes and has expressed itself in every culture, in every age, including our own secularized husk of a society. By religion, I mean something quite specific: a practice not a theory; a way of life that gives meaning, a meaning that cannot really be defended without recourse to some transcendent value, undying “Truth” or God (or gods). Which is to say, even today’s atheists are expressing an attenuated form of religion. Their denial of any God is as absolute as others’ faith in God, and entails just as much a set of values to live by — including, for some, daily rituals like meditation, a form of prayer. (There’s a reason, I suspect, that many brilliant atheists, like my friends Bob Wright and Sam Harris are so influenced by Buddhism and practice Vipassana meditation and mindfulness. Buddhism’s genius is that it is a religion without God.) In his highly entertaining book, The Seven Types of Atheism , released in October in the U.S., philosopher John Gray puts it this way: “Religion is an attempt to find meaning in events, not a theory that tries to explain the universe.” It exists because we humans are the only species, so far as we can know, who have evolved to know explicitly that, one day in the future, we will die. And this existential fact requires some way of reconciling us to it while we are alive. This is why science cannot replace it. Science does not tell you how to live, or what life is about; it can provide hypotheses and tentative explanations, but no ultimate meaning. Art can provide an escape from the deadliness of our daily doing, but, again, appreciating great art or music is ultimately an act of wonder and contemplation, and has almost nothing to say about morality and life. Ditto history. My late friend, Christopher Hitchens, with a certain glee, gave me a copy of his book, God Is Not Great , a fabulous grab bag of religious insanity and evil over time, which I enjoyed immensely and agreed with almost entirely. But the fact that religion has been so often abused for nefarious purposes — from burning people at the stake to enabling child rape to crashing airplanes into towers — does not resolve the question of whether the meaning of that religion is true. It is perfectly possible to see and record the absurdities and abuses of man-made institutions and rituals, especially religious ones, while embracing a way of life that these evil or deluded people preached but didn’t practice. Fanaticism is not synonymous with faith; it is merely faith at its worst. That’s what I told Hitch: great book, made no difference to my understanding of my own faith or anyone else’s. Sorry, old bean, but try again. Seduced by scientism, distracted by materialism, insulated, like no humans before us, from the vicissitudes of sickness and the ubiquity of early death, the post-Christian West believes instead in something we have called progress — a gradual ascent of mankind toward reason, peace, and prosperity — as a substitute in many ways for our previous monotheism. We have constructed a capitalist system that turns individual selfishness into a collective asset and showers us with earthly goods; we have leveraged science for our own health and comfort. Our ability to extend this material bonanza to more and more people is how we define progress; and progress is what we call meaning. In this respect, Steven Pinker is one of the most religious writers I’ve ever admired. His faith in reason is as complete as any fundamentalist’s belief in God. But none of this material progress beckons humans to a way of life beyond mere satisfaction of our wants and needs. And this matters. We are a meaning-seeking species. Gray recounts the experiences of two extraordinarily brilliant nonbelievers, John Stuart Mill and Bertrand Russell, who grappled with this deep problem. Here’s Mill describing the nature of what he called “ A Crisis in My Mental History ”: “I had what might truly be called an object in life: to be a reformer of the world. … This did very well for several years, during which the general improvement going on in the world and the idea of myself as engaged with others in struggling to promote it, seemed enough to fill up an interesting and animated existence. But the time came when I awakened from this as from a dream … In this frame of mind it occurred to me to put the question directly to myself: ‘Suppose that all your objects in life were realized; that all the changes in institutions and opinions that you are looking forward to, could be completely effected at this very instant; would this be a great joy and happiness to you?’ And an irrepressible self-consciousness distinctly answered: ‘No!’” At that point, this architect of our liberal order, this most penetrating of minds, came to the conclusion: “I seemed to have nothing left to live for.” It took a while for him to recover. Russell, for his part, abandoned Christianity at the age of 18, for the usual modern reasons, but the question of ultimate meaning still nagged at him. One day, while visiting the sick wife of a colleague, he described what happened: “Suddenly the ground seemed to give away beneath me, and I found myself in quite another region. Within five minutes I went through some such reflections as the following: the loneliness of the human soul is unendurable; nothing can penetrate it except the highest intensity of the sort of love that religious teachers have preached; whatever does not spring from this motive is harmful, or at best useless.” I suspect that most thinking beings end up with this notion of intense love as a form of salvation and solace as a kind of instinct . Those whose minds have been opened by psychedelics affirm this truth even further. I saw a bumper sticker the other day. It said “Loving kindness is my religion.” But the salient question is: why? Our modern world tries extremely hard to protect us from the sort of existential moments experienced by Mill and Russell. Netflix, air-conditioning, sex apps, Alexa, kale, Pilates, Spotify, Twitter … they’re all designed to create a world in which we rarely get a second to confront ultimate meaning — until a tragedy occurs, a death happens, or a diagnosis strikes. Unlike any humans before us, we take those who are much closer to death than we are and sequester them in nursing homes, where they cannot remind us of our own fate in our daily lives. And if you pressed, say, the liberal elites to explain what they really believe in — and you have to look at what they do most fervently — you discover, in John Gray’s mordant view of Mill , that they do, in fact, have “an orthodoxy — the belief in improvement that is the unthinking faith of people who think they have no religion.” But the banality of the god of progress, the idea that the best life is writing explainers for Vox in order to make the world a better place, never quite slakes the thirst for something deeper. Liberalism is a set of procedures, with an empty center, not a manifestation of truth, let alone a reconciliation to mortality. But, critically, it has long been complemented and supported in America by a religion distinctly separate from politics, a tamed Christianity that rests, in Jesus’ formulation, on a distinction between God and Caesar. And this separation is vital for liberalism, because if your ultimate meaning is derived from religion, you have less need of deriving it from politics or ideology or trusting entirely in a single, secular leader. It’s only when your meaning has been secured that you can allow politics to be merely procedural. So what happens when this religious rampart of the entire system is removed? I think what happens is illiberal politics. The need for meaning hasn’t gone away, but without Christianity, this yearning looks to politics for satisfaction. And religious impulses, once anchored in and tamed by Christianity, find expression in various political cults. These political manifestations of religion are new and crude, as all new cults have to be. They haven’t been experienced and refined and modeled by millennia of practice and thought. They are evolving in real time. And like almost all new cultish impulses, they demand a total and immediate commitment to save the world. Now look at our politics. We have the cult of Trump on the right, a demigod who, among his worshippers, can do no wrong. And we have the cult of social justice on the left, a religion whose followers show the same zeal as any born-again Evangelical. They are filling the void that Christianity once owned, without any of the wisdom and culture and restraint that Christianity once provided. For many, especially the young, discovering a new meaning in the midst of the fallen world is thrilling. And social-justice ideology does everything a religion should. It offers an account of the whole: that human life and society and any kind of truth must be seen entirely as a function of social power structures, in which various groups have spent all of human existence oppressing other groups. And it provides a set of practices to resist and reverse this interlocking web of oppression — from regulating the workplace and policing the classroom to checking your own sin and even seeking to control language itself. I think of non-PC gaffes as the equivalent of old swear words. Like the puritans who were agape when someone said “goddamn,” the new faithful are scandalized when someone says something “problematic.” Another commonality of the zealot then and now: humorlessness . And so the young adherents of the Great Awokening exhibit the zeal of the Great Awakening . Like early modern Christians, they punish heresy by banishing sinners from society or coercing them to public demonstrations of shame, and provide an avenue for redemption in the form of a thorough public confession of sin. “Social justice” theory requires the admission of white privilege in ways that are strikingly like the admission of original sin. A Christian is born again; an activist gets woke. To the belief in human progress unfolding through history — itself a remnant of Christian eschatology — it adds the Leninist twist of a cadre of heroes who jump-start the revolution. The same cultish dynamic can be seen on the right. There, many profess nominal Christianity and yet demonstrate every day that they have left it far behind. Some exist in a world without meaning altogether, and that fate is never pretty. I saw this most vividly when examining the opioid epidemic . People who have lost religion and are coasting along on materialism find they have few interior resources to keep going when crisis hits. They have no place of refuge, no spiritual safe space from which to gain perspective, no God to turn to. Many have responded to the collapse of meaning in dark times by simply and logically numbing themselves to death, extinguishing existential pain through ever-stronger painkillers that ultimately kill the pain of life itself. Yes, many Evangelicals are among the holiest and most quietly devoted people out there. Some have bravely resisted the cult. But their leaders have turned Christianity into a political and social identity, not a lived faith, and much of their flock — a staggering 81 percent voted for Trump — has signed on. They have tribalized a religion explicitly built by Jesus as anti-tribal. They have turned to idols — including their blasphemous belief in America as God’s chosen country. They have embraced wealth and nationalism as core goods, two ideas utterly anathema to Christ. They are indifferent to the destruction of the creation they say they believe God made. And because their faith is unmoored but their religious impulse is strong, they seek a replacement for religion. This is why they could suddenly rally to a cult called Trump. He may be the least Christian person in America, but his persona met the religious need their own faiths had ceased to provide. The terrible truth of the last three years is that the fresh appeal of a leader-cult has overwhelmed the fading truths of Christianity. This is why they are so hard to reach or to persuade and why nothing that Trump does or could do changes their minds. You cannot argue logically with a religion — which is why you cannot really argue with social-justice activists either. And what’s interesting is how support for Trump is greater among those who do not regularly attend church than among those who do. And so we’re mistaken if we believe that the collapse of Christianity in America has led to a decline in religion. It has merely led to religious impulses being expressed by political cults. Like almost all new cultish impulses, they see no boundary between politics and their religion. And both cults really do minimize the importance of the individual in favor of either the oppressed group or the leader. And this is how they threaten liberal democracy. They do not believe in the primacy of the individual, they believe the ends justify the means, they do not allow for doubt or reason, and their religious politics can brook no compromise. They demonstrate, to my mind, how profoundly liberal democracy has actually depended on the complement of a tolerant Christianity to sustain itself — as many earlier liberals (Tocqueville, for example) understood. It is Christianity that came to champion the individual conscience against the collective, which paved the way for individual rights. It is in Christianity that the seeds of Western religious toleration were first sown. Christianity is the only monotheism that seeks no sway over Caesar, that is content with the ultimate truth over the immediate satisfaction of power. It was Christianity that gave us successive social movements, which enabled more people to be included in the liberal project, thus renewing it. It was on these foundations that liberalism was built, and it is by these foundations it has endured. The question we face in contemporary times is whether a political system built upon such a religion can endure when belief in that religion has become a shadow of its future self. Will the house still stand when its ramparts are taken away? I’m beginning to suspect it can’t. And won’t. What’s Left? Here are a couple of questions for Democrats about two of their potential 2020 candidates: What motivated Kirsten Gillibrand’s widely noted tweet this week? And why is there so much discontent on the left with Elizabeth Warren? On Tuesday evening, Gillibrand tweeted : “Our future is female. Intersectional. Powered by our belief in one another. And we’re just getting started.” I get the point: Women are succeeding more than ever before, are poised to do even better, and this is a great thing. But why express this as if men are also not part of the future? And “intersectional”? It’s telling that, in Democratic circles, this is such a mainstream word now that she doesn’t have to explain it to anyone. Gillibrand’s evolution, of course, has been long in the works — and reveals, I’d say, where the Democrats are going. When Gillibrand was a member of Congress, she identified as a Blue Dog conservative Democrat. She once campaigned in defense of gun rights, was in favor of cracking down on illegal immigration, voted against the 2008 bank bailout, and opposed marriage equality. Fast-forward a decade and look at the change. She first reversed her previous anti-gay positions, and was even instrumental in ending the gay ban in the military. By 2015, she invited Emma Sulkowicz to the State of the Union, a person who alleged they had been raped at Columbia University, despite Columbia’s, the NYPD’s, and the district attorney general’s investigations ending without a finding of rape, indeed finding “a lack of reasonable suspicion.” On social media, Sulkowicz was known as “Mattress Girl,” carrying an extra-long twin around the campus to exemplify the burden they felt (Sulkowicz identifies as nonbinary) and to pressure Columbia into expelling her alleged rapist. Gillibrand, who once opposed allowing illegal immigrants to get driving licenses, is also now a supporter of abolishing ICE. And, of course, she famously engineered the resignation of one of the more talented Democrats in the Senate, Al Franken, because of a forced stage kiss, allegations of groping, and a photo of him pretending to grab a fellow USO entertainer’s boobs. We won’t ever get to the bottom of all that because Gillibrand demanded Franken’s resignation merely on the basis of allegations, and within a day, Franken had resigned, before the Senate Ethics Committee had finished an investigation. “Enough is enough,” she declared , invoking the “existing power structure of society” to end due process for Franken. I do not begrudge Gillibrand for her transformation, but it is hard to believe that political calculation was absent. She’s running for president, and invoking the language of critical gender theory, she seems to believe, will help her in the primaries. Then there’s the Democratic backlash against Elizabeth Warren. You’d think it would be about her terrible political judgment, as demonstrated by her spectacular self-immolation on the “issue” of her claimed Native American ancestry. But no! The reason many Democrats have turned on her is that she used a DNA test at all to prove her family lore. From the New York Times : “She has yet to allay criticism from grass-roots progressive groups, liberal political operatives and other potential 2020 allies who complain that she put too much emphasis on the controversial field of racial science — and, in doing so, played into Mr. Trump’s hands … Ms. Warren has also troubled advocates of racial equality and justice, who say her attempt to document ethnicity with a D.N.A test gave validity to the idea that race is determined by blood — a bedrock principle for white supremacists and others who believe in racial hierarchies.” The social-justice movement’s suspicion of science, especially genetics, is at work here. And it is not “racial science” to examine your DNA to see which genetic subpopulation in the world you belong to, or where your ancestors lived. It’s science. So if you send off for a 23andMe test, in the view of many Democrats, you’re a white supremacist! This seems to be where the Democratic Party now is. Hunker down for a second term of Donald J. Trump. A Moment of Truth I almost never cry in movies, even tear-jerkers. But the other night, I sat down and watched Darkest Hour , the movie, now available on HBO, that follows (well, kinda) John Lukacs’s account of the five days in May 1940 when Britain, its entire army stuck in France and its air force still woefully unequal to the Luftwaffe, stared into the abyss. Many in the elite believed that some kind of accommodation with Hitler was the only option — keeping him at bay and preserving much of the Empire. That policy of a peace treaty was, to my mind, a highly persuasive way forward in the naked short-term interest of the United Kingdom. Lord Halifax famously championed it in a vital cabinet meeting. Something in Churchill resisted. There’s a factually ridiculous but dramatically powerful scene when Winston jumps out of his official car and into the tube, where the passengers greet him first with British politeness (no mass selfies back then), and then begin a conversation. Churchill lays out the reasons for a peace treaty and asks the Londoners what they think of dealing with Hitler this way. “Never!” they shout back. “Never!” Interests be damned. A figure like Hitler has to be confronted and defeated. To slink away from this moral obligation violated their sense of patriotism, their understanding of what Britain meant to a world suffocating in tyranny. The great symbol of this refusal to appease was, of course, the rescue of the troops from Dunkirk by hundreds and hundreds of ordinary Brits in various boats and ships, defying Nazi control of the air to save their “boys” as they called them. It was an upwelling of moral purpose, of real grit against all the odds, and as I watched Gary Oldman deliver the “Blood, Toil, Tears and Sweat” speech that Churchill gave in the Commons, my eyes were swimming. Why had my response been so intense, I asked myself when my bout of blubbering had finally subsided? Part of it, of course, is my still-lingering love of the island I grew up in; part is my love of Churchill himself, in all his flaws and greatness. But I think it was mainly about how the people of Britain shook off the moral decadence of the foreign policy of the 1930s, how, beneath the surface, there were depths of feeling and determination that we never saw until an existential crisis hit, and an extraordinary figure seized the moment. And I realized how profoundly I yearn for something like that to reappear in America. The toll of Trump is so deep. In so many ways, he has come close to delegitimizing this country and entire West, aroused the worst instincts within us, fed fear rather than confronting it, and has been rewarded for his depravity in the most depressing way by everything that is foul on the right and nothing that is noble. I want to believe in America again, its decency and freedom, its hostility, bred in its bones, toward tyranny of any kind, its kindness and generosity. I need what someone once called the audacity of hope. I’ve witnessed this America ever since I arrived — especially its embrace of immigrants — which is why it is hard to see Trump tearing migrant children from their parents. That America is still out there, I tell myself, as the midterms demonstrated. It can build. But who, one wonders, is our Churchill? And when will he or she emerge? See you next Friday. Tags: interesting times president trump social justice kirsten gillibrand elizabeth warren Andrew Sullivan: America’s New Religions Most

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