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therobinswayne · 4 months ago

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this might be a crazy idea, but what is instead of pacifica just being the northwest who owns the town at the time, pacifica switches places with fiddleford?

like, listen. after not getting into his dream school, dipper manages to get into a school that is still reputable based off his good grades. pacifica is his roommate because, hey, it's the 70s, no way he's trying to explain transgender to the admissions office. they hate each other for a while, because he thinks she's a priss who payed her way in, and she's annoyed that he fights back. but over the first year, they help each other understand themselves. she learns about his birth mark (which he keeps firmly hidden away beneath his hat at all times) and he learns about her cold and distant parents. they bond.

they live together for all of college, and it gets to the point that dipper won't deny having a crush on her, but he doesn't even think to bring it up, shrouded in his own insecurities. but she's the first real friend he's ever had that wasn't friends with mabel first. in fact, she doesn't even know mabel exists.

when she comes clean to him about feeling like a fraud because her father DID help her get into school, he convinces her to prove herself and get the degree she wants instead of just the MRS degree her father had planned for her. she turned out to be a damn good mechanical engineer.

when they graduated, her father withheld her any money for not settling down how he wanted, and she found herself a job with her degree so she could really be herself. she credits dipper with helping her get there. she promises to write. dipper heads to oregon.

she works there for a year, before getting fired. any other place she tries refuses to hire a woman in the field. she's forced to go back to her parents. her dad sets her up with an approved husband, and she gets married. she doesn't care about him at all. she has a son. he's named after her father.

then, when her son is 3 or 4, she gets a call from dipper. he asks her to come to some town in oregon and help her build something, because he needs a brilliant mechanical engineer, and she's the best one he knows. she tells her husband she's going, and he doesn't care. she hugs her son tightly, tells him to be good for the nanny, and sets off.

dipper's a little different. he's more crazed, drinks a lot more coffee, is constantly scribbling in his journals and whispering to himself. he has all these plans, and he doesn't seem to leave the house often. more often than not, she's the one who heads into town and buys groceries so they have anything to eat.

she knows something's going on with him but he won't tell her what. one day, he falls asleep next to her while working and she finds out. bill, his name is, and he's rather unfriendly. but dipper didn't tell her. she doesn't know what to do with that, so she just doesn't bring it up.

when they finish the portal, their first test, her foot is in front of the line. for just one moment, she's stuck inside. dipper brings her out, but it's too much. she can't even describe what she's seen. it's horrifying. she tells him they have to destroy it, and he refuses. she leaves.

when she gets back to her family, her husband is in bed with the nanny. she doesn't have it in her to care.

she sets to work, making something that can help her forget the horrors that haunt her dreams. she does make it, and she takes it to gravity falls in hopes of helping dipper forget all of this madness. when it doesn't work, he looks at her so damn betrayed. like she's the one doing horrible things when he wants to bring about destruction.

it's so easy, in the aftermath, to erase his face from her brain. that betrayed look in his eyes. but it still comes back and haunts her. so she makes it stronger, makes it work better, keeps testing it on herself, until there are gaps in her memories she doesn't remember there being and she doesn't remember why she even made it.

doesn't matter. she can't stop now.

by the time the stan's get there, pacifica is just. the old lady who lives in the trash yard. her hair is thin and white, she's shrunk, her posture is atrocius. she knows her name is pacifica, but that's all. she doesn't remember anyone for long, or any direct conversations. things go missing the second they happen, and no one can recall what happened to her.

eventually, her son moves to gravity falls in hopes of finding his mother. he doesn't put together who she is, since no one knows her last name. she doesn't look anything like the woman he's seen pictures of.

when dipper returns to the dimmension, after weirdmageddon, she sees him and for the first time in a long time, she remembers something. he tells her she must hate him, but she just hugs him. he works to get her memory back, bit by bit, by reworking her machine to work in reverse.

once she's got enough memory to come back to herself, one of the first things she does is kiss him.

the second thing is going and finding her son.

#fiddleford on the other hand is just a sweet farm boy who's parents founded the town #he gets into a feud with stan on accident and thinks they're friends even when stan swears vengence in front of him #ford likes him tho #eventually they all become besties #mystery trio fr #pacifica northwest #relativity falls #dipcifica #dipper pines #transgender dipper pines #which lbr is basically cannon #yapping

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collegecuckcakev3 · 8 months ago

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Had a fun night with bestie's parents but only after we all went out to dinner first. It was chilly, breezy, and damp feeling so everyone was in the mood for some good bar food. It was crowded with families so aside from sitting next to our men, bestie and I mostly behaved. I however was a little naughty rubbing her mom's pussy a bit til she was in a daze and my mom kept trting to snap her out of it. The opportunity wasn't missed to whisper naughty things in he ear about what I was going to do to her later to make her my bitch. While we waited for our meal (which seemed like it took forever) bestie and I found our hands rubbing/massaging our dad's cocks. It started with a look and a wink between her and I. Next thing we knew our dads were totally silent and not paying attention to the tvs what so ever. Our dads were so worked up looking at their own daughter as their daughter's best friend played with their hard cocks. It certainly had us worked up too. Once in the parking lot bestie and I gave each other a quick kiss and hug as we swapped family for the evening.

Bestie's dad went to get in the driver seat when I stopped him and told him I would prefer him to get in the back seat with me and for her to drive. I fished his cock out immediately and began stroking it while I ordered her to drive us to the park and park us in an empty lot so he and I could have some fun. Once there she was ordered out of the car to keep a look out so we could have our fun. It only took seconds before my tits were out, mouth on his cock, and he was playing with my ass. He told me how much he has missed me lately and has been needing this. I have been needing this too and I made him feel that with every stroke and kiss of his cock. When I was ready to hop on I pulled my bottoms down, slid my thong to the side and hopped on. He played with my tits while I rode him for all he was worth. I teased him about how when I was working his cock in the bar he was looking at his own daughter. How I knew he had fantasies of fucking his own little girl's tight holes while my dad fucks mine. How he'd shover her mom's face right in her freshly fucked pussy to eat his big load of hot cum. It didn't take long before he exploded in my pussy. We were panting hard when I climbed off him, puling my thong back over my pussy to collect his cum. Looking down at his spent cock that needed cleaning, I opened my window and yelled her bestie's mom to come clean off her husband's cock and drive us home. She opened the door, leaned in, and sucked him a little before I told her that she was a good girl and we were ready to go home for the night.

Once we got inside their home, bestie's mom stripped down, got a slap on her ass, and she was ordered up to bestie's room so finish her cleaning job. I stripped down slow and teased her before laying in my best friend's bed so her naked, submissive, cuckquean mother could eat her father's load from my freshly fucked pussy. While she ate my pussy nice and good I teased her about the same things I teased her husband with in the car earlier as I rode him. The cuck was worked up nice and when she was done I pulled her in for a passionate kiss and we cuddles for a bit while I rubbed her pussy and continued to tease her some more.

We all retured to the master bed for one more fucking for me while bestie's mom was there for oral support and some verbal humiliation to get her husband and I worked up more. She was a good little cuck and was rewarded with a nice creampie once more. The three of us cuddled inder the blankets and slept amazing. This morning her and I had our normal shower fun that left her on her knees covered in my pee after I got out and toweled off leaving her to clean herself before joining us for breakfast.

It was a nice warm day here and Bestie and I laid out to get some sun. We talked about a lot of things including sex, life, and the usual. Of course I made bestie's mom wait on us and then thank me for allowing her to wait on her daughter and I.

#besties parents

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stevebabey · 11 months ago

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steve harrington but it's that jeff winger moment from community. if u have seen community, u will know... my first stobin-centric piece <3 tw for parental neglect and a prior act of self-harm. this is absolutely on the steve harrington has bad parents train <3

“Steven, this is ridiculous.”

Robin freezes in place. Her hand hovers over the remote she's just placed back down, her limbs locking up one by one at the sound of the voice at the door.

It is not a familiar voice. She knows who it is all the same.

She fights not to move, knowing the couch springs, old and rusted, threaten to reveal her hiding place, even if it is her house. Robin is very much allowed to be here. Expected, even.

But Steve? Steve is not.

It’s why there’s one Christine Harrington on the dingy porch steps.

It’s an unwelcome surprise — even after all the fuss of the 4th of July, a thousand police sirens, endless NDAs, and too much blood on his uniform, Steve’s parents hadn’t shown.

Out of town, Steve had said, his bashed in face making it impossible to read his expression. His eyes were haunted and misty but Robin couldn’t tell if it was from the horror of the night or… a loneliness far older.

So Robin had done the fussing. Had dragged him home with her, shooed away her rightfully nosy parents, and mended him up on her bathroom counter.

Steve had been silent, a little wide-eyed as she worked on each cut, each bruise — but with her gentle touch, he had been helpless to do anything but melt beneath it.

He’d called her Robbie for the first time that night. They’d fallen asleep with their hands intertwined, her arm hanging off the bed to reach out to him on her bedroom floor.

Robin still hasn’t met Steve’s parents, even though it’s been more than a couple months since that night.

She’s been to his house countless times too. She knows where the spare key is, if she ever loses her own copy, that is. Knows which stair squeaks on the way up to the second floor and how the lock on the downstairs bathroom gets jammed too easily.

She’s eaten the best grilled cheese of her life in their kitchen, sitting on the counter.

She’s laughed so hard she’s cried on their couch, getting the throw pillows wet with her happy tears.

She’s still never met Steve’s parents. Til right now.

Christine Harrington has her arms wrapped tight around her frame and Robin has no doubt that on her face is a frown that could make babies cry.

She can’t see her face though. Can only just see a glimpse of her tense body from where she sits. Steve blocks part of her view, his own tense frame in the doorway.

He’d answered the door instead of Robin only because he had the foresight to glance at the front window after the first rap at the door. It was late. Robin’s parents certainly wouldn’t knock at their own home and neither of them were expecting visitors.

The expensive car in the drive, a sore thumb along Robin’s street, had given away the identity of just who was knocking so late in the evening. So, Steve had opened it.

“Mom—”

“I mean utterly ridiculous.” Steve gets cut off without second thought, Christine continuing on as if she hasn’t heard him at all.

“Did you expect us to spend all evening chasing you around? Figuring out where you were tonight from the Carlton’s across the road?”

She’s got this snippy tone that Robin’s heard a thousand times from teachers. Patronising. Too cold for it to seem like a genuinely concerned parent.

“The Carlton’s?” Steve echoes, a bit meek. His shoulders have rolled forward, sinking down a bit and Robin can see his tight grip on the door. Still, she stays frozen, rooted to the couch.

“Yes, Steven.” Christine says his full name again, all bite. “Imagine the shame your father and I felt hearing that. Hearing who you had been associating with.”

“Don’t say that.” Steve grits out immediately, anger bleeding into his tone.

The muscles in his back ripple as he forces his shoulders back, as if he had remembered how to stand up straight at the mention of his friend.

Robin aches; at the reminder of the stark differences of their upbringings and at Steve’s unquestionable loyalty. She finally unfreezes, sitting up a little straighter and leaning forward more— ready to spring up from her seat.

She’s not sure what for exactly. She sorta really wants to go slam the door on Steve’s mom’s face and go back to being bundled up on the couch with him. The urge is strong enough to make her fingers twitch.

“Why are you here, Mom?”

There’s a strain to Steve’s question, even though he doesn’t falter in appearance. Robin can’t see his face either though. She hopes it’s got the bitchiest expression Steve can muster.

“Don’t be smart, Steven.” Christine reprimands coldly. “I know that we may have taken a larger absence than intended but that’s not any excuse to parade yourself around with the strays of this town.”

Strays. Robin feels the word pelt into her and burn into her skin, sinking all the way down. It feels like cold water has tipped down the back of her neck. An unwelcome pit forms in her stomach.

She had known, of course, the reputation of a family like the Harrington's. She hadn’t quite known the extent they would go to protect it. Policing your child's friends over a matter of image is absurd.

Somehow, Robin can see how Steve grows even tenser at his mom’s words— hackles raising like that on a dog. His knuckles turn white. But before he speaks, Christine is barreling on like she hasn’t just slandered every one of Steve’s new friends.

“And to leave the house in such a state?”

Robin hears her sigh heavily, as though this really is the biggest problem in her life — which she can’t fathom in the slightest.

There was nothing wrong with Steve’s house. No mess beyond the usual evidence that someone, you know, lived there.

“Mom, I—” Steve starts again.

“Well, I’m sure you have your reasons. You always do.” She says it so pointedly, like Steve was known for peddling lies to weasel his way out of trouble.

It’s so un-Steve it makes Robin blink hard, wondering if she had heard right.

Steve was honest. He owned his mistakes and he took things on the chin. It was something she had liked most about him in the beginning.

Back when it was all snark and Robin told herself she was never going to be his friend, in this universe or anything other. That even then, reluctant co-worker and nothing more, Steve was honest and decent to her always.

“Now, come on now.” Christine Harrington huffs out her demand. “Your father is waiting in the car and there no use winding him up more than you already have.”

Robin’s stomach turns at her words. It had been a topic of discussion between them, one night weeks ago, lips loosened by the dark. I feel like a dog to them, Steve had admitted quietly, his breath against her pillow and his warmth under her sheets. Like they just leave alone most of the time but expect me to perk up and come running the moment they call. I hate it.

“I’m not coming with you.”

The words stammer on their way out like he had forced them out— and Robin wants to sing she’s so proud of her best friend.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not coming with you.” Steve repeats himself, the words a little firmer this time. “I’m… I’m spending the night here, with my friend Robin.”

He trails off, the words weaker, losing steam. Robin rises to her feet, the tell-tale squeak of the couch springs letting Steve know she was still here. Still right behind him.

It makes him stand a little straighter.

“I— I’ll come home in the morning.”

Christine Harrington makes a little scoffing noise, a high pitched faux laugh as if Steve’s said something amusing.

“Tell me when did I raise such an ungrateful brat?” She muses meanly and Robin doesn’t miss the way Steve flinches lightly. “We give you free rein of the house, apt time by yourself, and yet when we request you to spend a single evening with us—”

“You’re not asking, you’re demanding.” Steve cuts in, his voice more heated now.

“Oh hush, Steven. You act as if we’re so awful.”

It’s all dismissal. Everything, every word, a dismissal.

“I just can’t win with you, can I?” Christine sighs again, disappointment dripping from the sound. “Either we’re not here enough or we’re here but you can’t find time to have dinner with your family. Which is it, Steven?”

In the doorway, Steve begins to bristle. Robin really, really wants to slam the door now — if only to stop this conversation that seems to keep cutting deeper and deeper into her best friend.

She steps closer to him, moving as silently as she can, and makes sure to stay out of sight as she places a hand gently on the small of his back.

He’s shaking, she realises.

Her heart twists painfully in her chest.

Then, deathly calm, Steve says, “Did you know in 7th grade, I lied and I told everyone in my class that I got appendicitis?”

Robin blinks at the change in subject, the strangeness of Steve’s comment. She does remember that, vaguely. A boy in the year above— it had been a wildfire rumour that had turned out to be true.

Or so she thought. Staring hard at the planes of Steve’s back, the pit in her stomach yawns with an anticipation of devastation. Her hand on his back curls up a bit.

“You and Dad were gone for the whole month to Washington. It was the first time you had ever gone for that long and you didn’t even tell me until the day before you left.”

“Steven—”

“I just wanted someone to worry about me.” He steamrolls on, tone too casual for the story he was telling. “And it worked."

A beat.

"But then Cassie Lange asked about the scar.”

Robin’s hand on Steve's back twists up tighter. She feels like she knows what’s coming— but wishes it to be not true.

She doesn’t want to think of Steve, little twelve year old Steve, doing all that he can for a scrap of attention he was supposed to be getting from his parents.

“And rather than admit I’d lied…” The words come out too tight. “I went and found your sewing scissors and I made one.”

There’s this icy bite to Steve’s voice, his shoulders tensed back up. Christine still hasn’t said anything.

“I hurt like a bitch but it was worth it. I got a card from every single person in my class.”

“You wanna see the scar?” He asks— then he’s moving, his hand rucking up his sweater and shirt and exposing the skin of his stomach. Christine makes a noise like a muffled gasp. Robin feels a bit sick. Steve drops his shirt.

“And I kept all of those cards I got —all 17 of them stashed them under my bed in a box that I still have til this day.” He exhales through his nose. “Because it was proof that, at some point, somebody actually gave a shit about me. Because you didn’t. You didn’t then and you don’t get to now.”

His words hang in the air. There’s a long stretch of silence where Steve stares down the woman on the porch— someone closer to a stranger than a friend.

“So, I will see you at home, tomorrow.”

And then he slams the door to Robin’s house shut with a finality that shakes the air. Robin tenses up at the loud noise. Steve doesn't move, just stays staring at the closed door.

Behind them both, one of the noisy pipes in the house makes a loud noise. It sounds worse than usual as it breaks the silence.

Outside, Robin hears the click of heels on the pavement as they quieten, moving further away.

The pit in her stomach tightens immeasurably, a faint bile taste in her mouth. She finally remembers to smooth out her hand, pressing it flat against Steven’s back— another reminder that she was there.

If he wanted to talk or he didn’t, she was there.

Suddenly Steve sighs, an exhale so large that he shrinks down a couple inches, his shoulders dropping. It sounds exhausted.

He finally turns away from the door, to Robin, and she can only hope her face conveys every ounce of love, of support, she feels within her chest.

“Steve…” She breathes softly.

He wasn’t crying but just the sound of his name, spoken so delicately, seems to inspire tears. Robin catches the tremble of his lip and moves without thought— throwing both her arms around his neck and wrestling him into a hug.

Steve goes easy, his arms snaking around her middle and holding her back so tightly it nearly makes her squeak. She doesn’t though— just lets him bury his face in her neck, taking these big shuddering breaths, these half-formed sobs that break her heart clean in half.

She doesn’t know how long they stand there. Car engines drone as they pass by the street. The streetlights seem to get brighter. Steve presses himself so close to her, as close as he can, and Robin hugs back just as tight. She gives him all the time he needs.

She wonders if there’s an indent of him on her when he finally pulls back — a Steve Harrington shaped outline imprinted on her soul. It feels like there is.

If she could trace it, she thinks, it would be whatever shape love takes.

“Thanks Robbie.” He croaks out. He’s started scrubbing furiously at his face and she can see the wet sheen of tears as he wipes them away.

Robin doesn’t move far, just unwinds her arms a bit and lets them fall back to her sides. There’s an ache between her brows from how long she’s been frowning in concern. Steve looks more disheveled than usual, his usually perfect hair looking flatter — but he looks lighter too, somehow.

“No need to thank me, dingus.” She says, voice soft. She faux punches his chest and then regrets it when his lips don’t even twitch upward. It’s weird to see Steve all undone.

Robin thinks back to that conversation and the callousness of Steve’s mom. Her uncaring tone, the use of his full name like an insult.

She thinks of what Steve had said.

“I’m sorry you felt—” The words get stuck in her throat which grows thicker as she thinks about it. About a self-made scar on Steve’s abdomen, made by a twelve year old boy who just wanted someone to worry.

“—That you felt like you had to do something like that to yourself. I’m sorry no one noticed what you really needed.”

Steve nods slowly, his eyes glazed with a far away look as he stares somewhere over Robin’s shoulder. He gives this little shrug, a little huff through his nose.

“It’s okay.” He says, voice a bit distant. “I mean, it’s not but… even if I hadn’t meant to tell you, I’m glad someone knows now.”

It takes another second before he finally seems to shake himself from his thoughts, turning to properly look at Robin. His eyes are red-rimmed and the tip of his nose is pink. Tell tale signs of tears.

“I’ve never told anyone that before.”

Robin swallows thickly and it takes effort to choke down the urge to cry.

“Well,” She starts. It comes out too high pitched and tight and she clears her throat. “Thank you for telling me.

Some kind of smile plays on Steve’s lips, as if he can tell that she’s fighting off her sniffling and it’s sorta funny to him. It is, a little.

Because instead of being embarrassed or feeling pitied, he feels… delightfully surprised to have her care so much. To be so upset on his behalf.

“Oh, c’mon Robbie,” He gives her that same faux-punch in the shoulder she did earlier and it actually succeeds in making her lips pull up at the edges. “None of that.”

“You’re such a dingus.” Robin says. It comes out a bit wobbly still. Sue her— she doesn’t have Steve’s insane ability to bounce from one emotion to another in a single second.

Steve grins. He wanders back to the couch and flops down onto it. Robin follows and when she sits down, it’s a fraction closer to him this time. He gives one last scrub of his face, wiping the last of his tears away.

She nudges him with her thigh. She has to check just one more time.

“You alright?”

Steve smiles, crooked in that way that lets her know it’s completely sincere. He reaches forward and presses unmute on the remote, the film they’re watching starting up again with a buzz.

Steve presses his thigh back against Robin’s and in the dim lighting of her living room, his eyes glitter with an emotion that threatens to make her want to cry once more.

“Course.” He says. “I got someone checking up on me now,”

Another pointed nudge of his thigh against hers. “I’m better than ever.”

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