#camo print jacket

[kicmadeinnyc]

"Curious About Camo Patch Jackets? Here's the Exclusive Collection!"

[alexalphajack]

[closetofcuriosities]

Advisory Board Crystals - Wood Camo Printed Utility Jacket

From A Study In Camouflage Collection.

[cultlifecollective-blog]

[godblessthevictorians]

[ckret2]

Chapter 37 of human Bill is this close to wriggling out of the Mystery Shack, featuring: Bill getting alone with Wendy and chatting about teen stuff.

Meanwhile, downstairs,

Bill meandered through the house, munching on a jelly, hot sauce, jalapeño, and sprinkles sandwich. 

Everyone was out, the Mystery Shack was closed for the day... Bill was pretty sure this was the first time he'd ever been completely alone in the house since his capture.

What sort of mischief could he get up to?

He headed upstairs to change out of his wet clothes; nice not to have to do it in the tiny curtained bathroom for the sake of the nudity-fearing easily-scandalized humans. He hated to peel off his hoodie—even though it didn't quite make him feel like himself, it at least did a terrific job of hiding how unlike himself he was—but if it wasn't dried out by the time the older humans got home, they might confiscate it to launder it, and then it would be even longer until he got it back.

The things he had to worry about these days were so pathetic.

To go with his makeshift bed, Bill had recently been generously granted a makeshift dresser: an ancient apple crate into which he could shove his ill-gotten clothing. His entire wardrobe combined barely filled half of it. He mourned for some of the garments he and Stan hadn't managed to smuggle out. Galaxy camo. Puking kangaroo jacket. Rainbow cheetah-tiger print leggings. When he took over this place again, he was making himself a full set of dining chairs with real human legs, and then he was putting those leggings on all the chair legs. 

He pulled on a tank top and fresh leggings, spread his wet clothing out to dry, and went looking for trouble.

This was a perfect opportunity to get Soos's electric piano out of the floor room; knowing a piano was right there was driving Bill crazy, but he didn't want the humans to overhear him playing and didn't want to lower himself to asking for headphones.

Or he could have a solo dance party. His body ached to dance. He played music with Mabel from time to time, but they had to keep the volume down to levels nobody else would complain about, and he wasn't about to risk dancing when his jailers could yell at him for it. He was pretty sure the boombox was in the kids' bedroom; but after the damage Dr. Illing left on the door, Bill might be able to get in if he could figure out how to get through it. The dentist had managed to get through with the same curse, after all, hadn't he?

Although that gave Bill another thought.

A couple of interesting things had happened on the night the dentist had broken in.

First: Stan had shoved Bill, back first, through the door from the living room into the gift shop. Bill didn't know how Stan did this. All he knew was that the door was closed, Bill was shoved, and somehow the door... permitted him through, and then he was on the other side. He didn't understand it. But it happened.

And second: Stan told the dentist that that door was load bearing, and then had told Bill he'd only said that to keep the dentist from touching it or else he might accidentally figure out a way through, even when he didn't know how it opened.

What did this mean? Bill wasn't quite sure. It was all pretty mysterious. But, it sounded like... it was possible to get through the door... without... opening it?

It didn't make sense to him. But maybe it didn't need to make sense. Maybe it was good that it didn't make sense—because the curse prevented doors from making sense to him, so maybe the only way around them was embracing a solution that seemed like nonsense. Maybe if he recreated the conditions he'd experienced when he was pushed... and if he focused not on the door, not on opening it, but on just... trying to walk into the next room, completely ignoring the existence of the door... perhaps something would happen?

He eyed the door thoughtfully, chewing his jelly-jalapeño sandwich. It was worth trying. He wondered whether tripping on the step was a necessary part of whatever process had gotten him through the door, or if it was optional. He decided he'd try it without the tripping and only put it back in if that didn't work.

He turned his back to the door, shut his eyes, and walked backwards.

There might be some validity to this method. There were some places that could only be accessed by walking backwards. Some fairy domains, for instance. The hidden fairy court outside Portland. He flinched when his back hit the door; he told himself to ignore the door—don't think about the door—and keep walking. He wasn't trying to open the door, he told himself—he wasn't trying to do anything with the door—he was merely trying to walk to the next room. The door didn't matter to him.

And somehow, he kept moving.

The door simply let him through.

He didn't stop walking until he felt a rug under him and knew he must have made it into the gift shop. He opened his eyes and stared in amazement at the door, gently swinging closed again in his wake. What happened there? It was magic. It had to be magic. Were doors even real? Were they just illusions that looked and felt like solid walls until you tried to pass through them? Was that what the curse had forced him forget—did doors not really exist?

He laughed in confusion. "What...?"

"Oh hey, how'd you get in here?"

Bill nearly jumped out of his shoes. He whipped around to face the voice. Wendy was standing under the curtain into the museum.

Right. Yes. An explanation. How did he get in here. "I genuinely and honestly do not know!"

Wendy nodded. "Okay."

"What are you doing here? I thought the shack was closed."

"Hanging out with the baby dragons," Wendy said. "Sometimes when the shack's closed and I need a break from the house, I kinda... use my key to let myself in and hang out with the displays?"

Bill nodded slowly. "All right." He hadn't kept a close eye on the Corduroys once Raina was gone, but he had some ideas why Wendy would want to get away.

"Please don't tell Soos I snuck in?" Wendy asked. "I don't think he'd mind that much, but—still. It's a... It's not a work thing. I don't want my boss to know."

"Don't tell Soos I snuck in?" Bill countered.

Wendy pursed her lips. "All right, that's fair."

So, here they both were. Not exactly what Bill was planning for the day; but, it meant he could have a little uninterrupted conversation with Wendy without his jailers knowing. It was an invaluable opportunity. Bill would have to use all of his cunning to spin this situation to his advantage. He had to choose his next words extremely carefully.

Bill said, "Hey, as long as we're here, wanna chill on the roof or something?"

Wendy considered that. She shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so."

Nailed it. Wendy was such a pushover.

####

Wendy led the way up the ladder. "Guess you need me to open the lids for you, huh?"

Bill laughed "'Lids'?"

"Shut up, you know what I mean. The—" Wendy gestured at the trap doors leading to the roof. "The roof lids."

"Yeah, I'd really appreciate if you'd get the roof lids."

Bill was slower to climb up. He'd never used a ladder in this body before; and as he climbed over worn mossy shingles he could faintly see three places where he would lose his footing and fall, and he had to creep carefully around them to avoid those futures. But then, at last, he was on the roof hangout spot.

"What the heck is that stink?" Wendy asked. "It smells like an outhouse crawled up here to die."

"You remember that giant eye-bat Soos had to chase off—?"

"Oh, yeah. He closed the shack and gave me the day off while you guys were dealing with it. I didn't know the repellant smelled this bad."

The only other time Bill had ever been up here was when he was haunting Dipper's dream, and of course that hadn't been the actual roof. It was a much cheerier spot than it had seemed in a midnight dream. Feel that breeze. Look at that sunlight.

And, for the first time in nearly a month, Bill was outdoors without any kind of cuff to restrict his movement.

Granted, he was also thirty feet off the ground, in a body that was controlled by gravity, with no way to climb down. But still.

"Dude, you look like you're worshipping the sun," Wendy said.

Bill was standing at the edge of the roof, facing the sun, arms outstretched, head tipped back. He supposed he did. "We're distant cousins. Inside I'm a hundred billion trillion suns."

Wendy laughed. "Listen to you. You sound like—some kind of hippie or something." Wendy took a seat on the pool chair. "You're still grounded or whatever, right? That's crazy for a full adult."

Bill laughed wryly. "Yeah. You can't imagine." For lack of another chair, he sat and leaned back against the slope of the roof. "It's condescending as all get out, and I hate it. But, hey." He shrugged. "It could be worse. I mean, they haven't tried to kill me yet."

Wendy laughed. "'Yet'."

"Yet. So I guess I can put up with it until..." Until what? "Until I... figure out somewhere else to go."

"Ugh, I hear that," Wendy said. "I'm dying to get out of this dumb town, it's so claustrophobic—and I've only been stuck here half as long as you. But I'm, like, sixteen, I can't just leave." She sat up, gesturing off into the distance. "But as soon as I finish high school, I'm taking off for Portland."

She settled back on the chair. "What about you? Where are you going when you get out of here."

"All over the planet!" He laughed. "I'm not kidding, I'm going everywhere. I've waited an eternity to see the world in person—rather than just seeing it vicariously through images and what people I meet remember about it."

"Oh yeah, I get that," Wendy said. "My mom had a postcard of Death Valley that's objectively super boring—it's just this desert with a wall of rock in the distance—but as a kid, I was fascinated by it anyway? This little glimpse into another world? It doesn't seem like a real place, so flat without any trees. I'm used to this." She gestured out at the mountains cradling Gravity Falls. "I wanna see places like that, it's just so different."

"Bet you'd fit in around there. I hear there's some tough gals living near Death Valley." And most of them prayed to golden triangular statues.

Bill stared at the sky a moment, willing a small cloud not to block his sunlight. It ignored his commands and its edge brushed over the sun's perimeter. "I'm not a big fan of flat places," he said thoughtfully. "Honestly—sure, I complain, but I really do like this stupid hick town. I like mountains and trees and weirdos."

"We've got a lotta weirdos."

"Highest volume of weirdos per capita in the United States. Gun to my head, if I had to choose any one place in the universe to be stuck... it actually might be right here." At least if he'd had the option of choosing captivity without the pending threat of execution. "But—if I had to choose between this one place and the entire rest of the universe? I'd choose the universe."

"Yeah, wow, that's deep." Wendy nodded. "Can't relate though. I flipping hate this place."

Bill cackled. "Oh, go on, tell me how you really feel!"

"I'm serious!" She got to her feet, staring off toward the idea of Portland in the distance. "I'm getting a job and starting college in Portland and leaving! I'm never cleaning up after my dad and brothers again! And they'll just have to deal with it."

"What if your friends stay here?" Bill asked. "Are any of them as eager to escape?"

"Eh. I figure everyone kinda loses touch with their high school friends and just makes new friends in college. Right?"

"Wow! Cold." He was a little impressed.

Wendy was silent for a moment, contemplating the horizon. "Honestly, I kinda feel like I'm... outgrowing them. Or—maybe not yet, but I will by the time I graduate. You know?"

"I get that! It's hard to be the coolest kid in the crew. No one can live up to your amazing example, but you've gotta put up with them anyway."

"Pfff. Shut up, man."

"But hey—listen, I've been where you are. I've gone through this. When I left school, I never spoke to a single kid I used to know ever again. I didn't want to. I don't regret it."

"I keep half forgetting that you're out of college and everything. No offense, but you look like, fifteen."

"Eh. Everyone thinks I look younger than I am."

Wendy sat again on the end of the pool chair. "What was the place you grew up like?"

Bill considered the question for a moment. "Flat."

Wendy laughed. "No wonder you like mountains. Grass is always greener, huh?"

"Sure." The sun was completely covered now. Bill already felt colder.

####

"Come in, come in," Fiddleford said, holding open the door and waving his guests in. "Welcome to my workshop!"

The Northwest Manor had an enormous formal dining room with warm brown marble tiles, festooned in rich red velvet curtains, overlooked by the taxidermy head of an elephant that Preston used to boast his grandfather had personally hunted (with the help of some hired locals, who'd taken care of tedious unimportant details like "setting up the camp" and "finding the elephant" and "shooting the gun").

Fiddleford had decided the marble floor made this the least flammable room in the house, tore down the curtains, named the elephant Johnny, shoved the long dining table against one wall to serve as a lab table, and hauled over all his makeshift engineering equipment from the junkyard in Tate's pickup. Now, the original purpose of the room was all but invisible beneath what was unmistakably a redneck mad scientist's laboratory. An oil drum in the corner could be brewing anything from moonshine to rocket fuel. Fiddleford's raccoon wife peered down at the visitors from atop a rumbling machine made from three cars' chassis.

"Sit, sit!" Fiddleford swept grease-smeared papers and half-finished doohickeys off four former dining chairs, and dragged the chairs around a three-legged folding table. Stan, Ford, and Soos took seats. Ford leaned over to see whether anything was propping up the legless corner, and only found an abandoned paper wasp nest on the bottom of the table.

Fiddleford crouched barefoot on his seat. "Thank you all for coming."

"So what's all this about?" Stan asked. "All Ford could say is you might be on the verge of a breakthrough on the Bill gun."

"Am I ever!" Fiddleford smacked the table excitedly. All three guests grabbed it to keep it from tipping over. "I've been cogitatin' up a way to remake its fuel!"

"And you've found a way?" Ford asked.

"Why, you bet I have maybe!"

Stan said, "You're still working on the fuel? Is that the only thing we're missing? Last year I stole a bunch of nuclear waste to power the portal, is that not an option?"

"Unfortunately, no," Ford said. "The Quantum Destabilizer can only be fueled by a paradoxical element that's inert when observed but radioactive when unobserved—but it doesn't exist in this universe. It's called NowUSeeitNowUDontium."

Stan grimaced. "I can guess who named it."

"It's clever," Soos said. "Very evocative."

Stan asked, "So, we're here to help make an element? Just so you know, I flunked chemistry, but I didn't do half bad at a community college course on auto mechanics." Stan looked around at the cobbled-together machinery filling the room. "Just in case that's relevant here."

Fiddleford waved off Stan's offer. "Naw, Soos can handle the equipment just fine."

Soos saluted. "You've got it!"

"I need you two for something else." Fiddleford hopped out of his chair, grabbed Stan and Ford's arms, and tugged them from their seats. "This way! Bring your chairs!" Soos quickly followed them, bringing his chair too.

As they crossed the room, Ford asked Stan, "You took a community college course on auto mechanics?"

"Eh. Thought it might help me figure out how your dumb portal works."

Ford smiled crookedly. "Did it?"

"Not one bit!"

Fiddleford led them to a machine that looked like a combination between a trash can, a lawnmower engine, and a rollercoaster-like maze of old lead pipes. He pulled the cord to start the engine, and the whole contraption rumbled ominously. "This is my miniature particle accelerator!"

"What's it do?" Stan asked.

"It accelerates miniature particles!" Fiddleford pointed halfway across the room at several CRT computer screens welded atop a sideways filing cabinet atop a sideways refrigerator. Wires spilled out of the cabinet drawers. "Soos can monitor the whole thing from over yonder."

"Aw, sweet." Soos put his chair in front of the monitors and sat. "Check it out, dudes, I'm like a nineties hacker!" He pulled a keyboard and an old video game joystick out of the fridge and pretended to type lightning fast. "Boom. I'm in."

Fiddleford pointed at the trash can. "And in here I've recreated the environmental conditions of the Dontium's native paradox universe."

"Amazing," Ford said, crouching down to inspect the pipes. "How did you do that?"

"I stuck a cat in a box and stuck the box in the trash can."

"I see."

Stan eyed the trash can, vibrating like mad from the lawnmower engine. "Is, uh, the cat alive?"

"Maybe!"

"Should... should we check?"

"Stanley, please," Ford said. "The cat-in-a-box thought experiment is a very unstable paradox. It's only good for a few days at most before breaking down; we can't risk disrupting the delicate conditions inside the box."

Stan blinked, baffled. "All right. Sure." He shrugged. "I was never much of a cat guy, anyway."

"Sitcher chairs either side of the accelerator, here," Fiddleford said. "Now! Dontium's properties change dependin' on whether it's observed or not. To synthesize it, it needs to be observed, and not. You followin' so far?"

"Yes," Ford said. "No," said Stan.

"Perfect!" Fiddleford clapped his hands on their shoulders. "You're doing stupendous so far. Now, in the paradox universe, I reckon one fella could just doublethink his way into producin' Dontium. But we've got to do it with two brains that are as near to identical as possible. Which is why I need you two! Twin brains are as close as we're gonna get if we don't wanna wait to grow a couple clones."

Stan gave Fiddleford a skeptical frown.

Fiddleford turned to Ford. "I need you lookin' right at the particle accelerator, at all times, to keep it under observation—but not think about it! The longer you can do that, the more the potential energy of the thoughts you're not thinkin'll build up, and since you know more about Dontium than Stanley does, you can generate more potential energy faster."

Stan's skeptical frown deepened.

Fiddleford went on, "And Stan, I need you to not look at the accelerator at all costs, but don't stop thinkin' about it once. You 'n' Ford's thoughts and non-thoughts will work like the plus 'n' minus poles on a magnet; it'll attract the mental energy outta Ford, into the accelerator between you two, and jump start the matter synthesizin' process." Fiddleford pointed at a hose snaking across the floor to the fridge. "And that'll pump the fresh Dontium into an old milk jug in the fridge! Soos'll keep an eye on it so it don't turn radioactive."

Soos fished around in the fridge until he found the jug, with the hose duct taped to the opening. A gas gauge removed from a car was attached to the jug. "Efficient," Soos said. "Sorry—you said so it doesn't turn radio-what?"

"Don't worry, you'll do terrific!"

"Heh, okay!"

If Stan's skeptical frown got any deeper, he'd pull a muscle. He looked to Ford for backup.

Ford was stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Yes, I see. It's all scientifically sound."

Stan threw up his hands in defeat. "Okay. Fine. So all I have to do is look away from the particle-whatever while thinking about it while Ford looks at it without thinking about it? That's it?"

"That's it," Fiddleford said. "But! If you start or stop thinkin' about Dontium before we've got a critical mass in the jug, it'll all vanishify, and we'll have to start over!"

"Eh." Stan shrugged. "How hard can it be to keep thinking about your weird science project while I'm sitting right next to it?"

Ford considered the challenge of deliberately trying to not think about something while he was staring straight at it, and frowned. "I'm... going to need a distraction."

####

Dipper had circled half of Main Street, digging through the businesses' dumpsters in search of a sleeping nest of Fremont Nightwigglers, before it occurred to him that maybe, just maybe, Bill had lied to him about where they nested. And now he was sweaty, bruised, and stunk to high heaven.

Well, great.

He dragged himself home, braced for Bill to mock him for falling for such an obvious lie and Mabel to tease him for smelling so bad.

But when he reached the shack, there was no sign of them.

Waddles was still contentedly wallowing in the mud around Stan's (really bizarrely painted) car. That wasn't necessarily weird; over the school year Mabel had gotten used to Waddles letting himself in and out of the yard by the back door flap, and now she was convinced that he'd grown big enough that the local wildlife had more to fear from him than he did from them. But even so, if Mabel and Bill had gone inside, it was weird that she'd leave Waddles outside unless she was coming back out. Dipper patted Waddles as he passed—Waddles curiously sniffed at his clothes—and headed into the house.

"Hello? Mabel?" Dipper called. "I'm back."

There was no response.

"Mabel?" After a pause, Dipper tried, less certainly, "Bill?"

And still silence. All the lights were out. The shack was deathly still.

The hairs on the back of Dipper's arms stood up. "Mabel?! Mabel!"

He ran to the office and called Mabel's cell phone, only to hear the credits theme from Believe In Yourself—her latest ringtone—playing down the hall. He ran to the living room. Mabel had left her phone on the table next to the chess board.

Maybe Dipper could believe Mabel had gone out without taking her phone. And he could just barely believe she might take Bill away from the shack, although even for her Dipper found that a stretch. But even at her most naive and absent-minded, he couldn't believe that she'd do both. She wouldn't go out alone with Bill Cipher without a way to call for help.

Which left only one other option. Something had gone terribly wrong.

"MABEL!" He tore through the house, opening every door, checking every room twice, every corner and cranny where Bill might be skulking or Mabel might be tied up. He took the elevator down to Ford's study—nothing—and then down to the basement, in case Bill was trying to repeat his stunt from the first day of summer break.

Nothing.

Where had Bill taken her?

####

"... and Tambry and Robbie have been insufferable all year," Wendy went on, capping off her list of recent grievances with all her friends. "First they break up in the first week of school, then we all hang out over Labor Day weekend and by the end of it they're making heart eyes at each other again, they said it was just the stress of a new school year that made them fight? But then they started fighting again and broke up a month later, then after Thanksgiving we find out they're back together, then right before school lets out they break up again, then suddenly they make up for Christmas and spend the rest of winter break glued to each other, then break up again..." She flung her hands out in exasperation. "And then just—kept doing that! They've been back together since school got out and they seem fine, but I'm just waiting for the next I-don't-know-what-I-saw-in-him text from Tambry..."

"Spring break?"

"What?"

"Did they get back together over spring break?"

"Yeah, we barely even saw them. How'd you know?"

"I have an instinct for these things," Bill said airily. That was one heck of a Summer Love potion overdose. Sometimes a large dose could linger through the next summer vacation or two in weakened form—but to be strong enough to hit every vacation in between, including the single day Monday holidays? Wow. Shooting Star really went to town on those two.

"If they break up again, I'm gonna start spraying them with water whenever they look at each other," Wendy said. "This is their last chance. I am not putting up with their drama anymore."

"I'll give 'em until the end of August," Bill said.

Wendy looked at him suspiciously.

"Let me know how close I get!"

"Maybe we should set up a betting pool," Wendy muttered. "Will you still be in the shack in August?"

Bill huffed. "I hope not." He just hoped he'd be leaving as a triangle rather than as a corpse.

"Man—all this talking about being stuck in town and the guys acting stupid is making me restless." Wendy stood, stretched, and pulled out her phone. "Sorry for dumping all my emotional junk on you. You sorta give off these... worldly, mentor-y vibes?"

Bill's chest puffed up. "Please," he said magnanimously, "feel free to talk to me about anything. I'm always happy to lend an ear." After all, who knew what might end up useful?

"I think I'm gonna see if the gang wants to hang." (And here Bill thought she'd outgrown them. But of course, without them, who else would she hang out with? It wasn't that bad, being the coolest kid in a pack of nobodies. Good for the ego. Better than being alone.) Wendy nodded toward the ground. "You wanna sneak out and come with?"

It was tempting. It was so tempting. But he had no idea when Stan and Ford would be back—or where in town they were right now—and if they found out he'd managed to get out of the shack, he'd probably be locked in the cellar until his execution day. He couldn't be stupid. He could only afford to risk it if he was making an escape... and if he tried to escape now, where would he go? Where could he go? With no ID, no money, no phone, nothing but the clothes on his back and a wretched body?

His best odds of getting back to the Nightmare Realm were in the basement of this very building; Kryptos wouldn't answer his calls; and he didn't have any way to reach any of his human followers from here. He wasn't even sure how to look them up. He could list off the dreams, life histories, and phobias of a dozen of his most devout worshipers; but did he know any of their phone numbers?

"Nah," Bill said. "Can't risk it." He couldn't remember the last time he'd had to live with this much fear. (He told himself he wasn't afraid.) "But, thanks for the offer. Maybe the jailers will lighten up and figure out it's not the end of the world if I go outside for a couple of hours, then we can talk."

Wendy shook her head, giving him a worried look. "Dude, the way you keep talking, I'm pretty sure this whole thing is this close to being illegal. Are you sure you're—you know—okay here?"

Oh, he loved that. She'd known the Mystery Shack household for years, and yet she was almost ready to take his side against them. He'd love to say he wasn't okay, please get him out of here—

But then what? Then she'd confront the Pines, and the Pines would tell her who he was... He held back a sigh. "Sure I'm okay! Hey—if I was in any real trouble, don't you think I'd have said something to Darryl at Rainbow Club by now? Come on."

"I guess," Wendy said; and then pressed, "You're sure, though?"

He'd worried her too much. Oh, this would be great if he were in any position to try to escape. As it was, though... how did he walk this back? 

Come up with a story. Something believable.

Bill sighed heavily. "Okay, listen. Here's the thing. Thirty years ago, I... had a miscommunication with Ford—you've heard about part of that mess—and before I could straighten things out with him, everything with the portal happened, and it festered thirty years before we met again. He's gotten paranoid! That's what all this is really about: his paranoia. So yeah, sure, he's taking this waaay too far." He rolled his eyes. "Buuut, if I want to get his trust back, I have to play along with the crazy rules he thinks will keep him safe. And I do want his trust back. I like having him as a friend." And that was true. It was true, wasn't it? Sure, it was now. He decided it was.

Wendy nodded slowly. "Hey," she said. "Quick question. Have you ever heard of Stockholm syndrome."

Bill laughed. "Oh, come on! I don't like him that much."

And now that Bill had laid the groundwork, if he decided later that he could make use of Wendy's help, all he'd have to do was say Ford had finally tipped over the edge and he needed help escaping. Maybe that would even slow Wendy down from believing the Pines if they tried to tell her who he really was.

They headed back down into the gift shop, Wendy taking the lead and Bill trying his best not to fall down the ladder.

Bill tensed at the ghostly sight of Dipper trailing through the gift shop, in and out of the museum, and through the vending machine; but a second glance confirmed he was seeing an afterimage, not a premonition. Dipper wouldn't be back upstairs for a few minutes. What a narrow miss; he couldn't imagine how much trouble he'd be in if Dipper had noticed the roof lids left open. 

"Oh, cool, Nate replied. Got at least one person to hang out with." Wendy stuffed her phone back in her pocket. "Hey—if you ever need a break from the craziness around here, you know how to reach me." She paused. "By walking backwards through the employee door, I guess."

"Ha! I'll keep that in mind." And maybe it would be useful someday.

Wendy waved as she headed out the gift shop exit. Bill returned the wave as he—thinking not about the door, thinking only about the living room and about walking straight into it as though nothing were in his way—backed through the doorway and into the next room.

He was getting good at this. No door would ever hold him again.

He meandered upstairs to check on his drying clothes, and found someone had left the bathroom door open. Had Dipper done that? He'd probably needed a shower after Bill had sent him digging through every dumpster in town. Ha. Well, good; Bill needed a quick shower too, lest the lingering stench of eye-bat repellant give away that he'd been outside while the jailers were gone.

He crept around the ajar door, peeled off his clothes, and climbed in the shower.

####

Dipper's foot bounced anxiously the whole elevator ride back up to the gift shop.

Not here. Bill and Mabel were clearly gone. Bill must have overpowered her while they were outside (and Dipper wasn't there to protect Mabel), and then—what—carried her off somewhere? Where else might Bill go?

Dipper ran outside—without noticing the breeze stirring the curtain that hid the roof ladder.

He circled the shack searching for any sign of where they might have gone; and then he grabbed his bike and pedaled frantically into the woods.

####

(Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed, I'd appreciate a comment! Next chapter is The Stupidest Chapter You've Ever Read. This is a boast.)

[stellar-collective]

Okay see now I wanna see your Runner Five design and hear the LORE behind them and everything:D

here she is!! pretty similar to my Agent Phoenix design-wise, but their backstories and personalities are VERY different. design notes and lore under the cut!

keeps their bangs long to help hide their expressions. they are so sick of “how do you even see lol” jokes

always wearing long pants (typically cargo) and a light jacket for several reasons. the one that she usually rattles off when people ask is that it protects her from sunburn

insanely practical and always prepared. no mission will ever be wasted as long as she has anything to do with it. she never drops supplies and always has a trick up her sleeve.

military girl. dad is ex-army, and he drilled her on all the proper procedures during their journey to Mullins Base. she’s very aware of the chain of command and is very stiff and professional around authority figures. she didn’t really care about any of that before the outbreak, but it kept her alive, so she leaned into it really hard. it’s the subject of a lot of teasing and people are always giving her Captain America merch and bald eagle stuff and anything camo printed, but she doesn’t mind too much.

was in England as a birthday trip with their dad and little sister. as soon the outbreak started, they headed for the nearest military base (Mullins) but unfortunately, their little sister… didn’t make it.

trained themselves out of screaming when surprised or scared and learned at Mullins not to speak unless spoken to. they’ve learned to keep their expression carefully neutral and avoid questions, too, so they’re nigh impossible to read, but they still manage to be friendly and approachable to most. very mellow and easy to talk to, although they probably won’t talk back. never, ever, EVER spills secrets. tightest lips in Abel.

her coping mechanism of shutting up when danger approaches is usually useful but sometimes goes too far. there have been a couple of times when Sam couldn’t see her and her throat locked up so she couldn’t tell him she was ok, which decidedly did not help with the already stressful situation

knows all of the gossip in Abel at any given time due to their winning combination of being extremely trustworthy and their talent at sitting still and blending into the background

quick to judge, quicker to forgive. inherently suspicious of everyone, but keeps their opinions to themselves until they’re dead sure because they’ve been wrong about a lot of people a lot of times.

nicknames include: Sticky Fingers Five (how do they get so many SUPPLIES), Boy Scout (always prepared!), The American Mary Poppins (they’ve got everything in that bag of theirs), and Cap/Captain America. they’ll respond to anything tho

absolutely, positively, irrevocably WHIPPED for Sam Yao. would live, die, and kill for him.

i am currently about halfway thru season three so there are ofc more specific stuff abt her relationships w people and things that happen in between missions but i wanted to keep this general and spoiler free :P

[buckevantommy]

[hewkii]

Acht (Dedf1sh) Cosplay Rundown

feel free to copy or take inspiration :]

assembly instructions and print settings/materials for 3d printed parts are on thingiverse (headphones) (other parts)

models designed by me are in brackets in the materials list

Hat/Tentacles

black trucker hat with blank white front panel

[dedstencil.stl]

fabric paint

shiny indigo fabric

less shiny white fabric

glow-in-the-dark pigment powder

polyfill

metal marbles (to weight the ends so they hang properly)

two of [octosucc.obj] in different sizes

acrylic paint

conveniently enough i've had this hat hanging on my door for years. i got it with N from pokemon in mind but i never actually did that cosplay ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

here are the sketches i based my patterns on (1 square=1 cm). don't forget to add seam tolerances

Headphones

full details on thingiverse (mudmouth not included)

Arms

mesh bolero with built-in gloves

rit dye

fabric paint

10 of [finger_claw_vase.stl] in varying sizes

i wear claws under the gloves, but sometimes i'll wind up taking them off after a while since they can get uncomfortable and they make it hard to use my phone :/

Bracelet

[acht_bangle_vase.stl]

acrylic paint

glow-in-the-dark pigment powder

glossy clear coat

a cut up mello yello bottle

packing tape

eva foam

Misc. Doodads

red mirror shades

color chips

necklace chain

[acht_tag_jelleton.stl]

[acht_tag_ident.stl]

[acht_tag_hook.obj]

did you know that acht gives eight a mobility chip in the trailer but a power chip in the actual game? bc i didn't notice until after i'd already finished making the mobility one. so i've got a spare chip i guess

the dogtags were kind of a spur-of-the-moment creative liberty. i had the jelleton one sitting around from some experiments with composite filaments, and while i was brainstorming a way to incorporate acht's cool fish hook into the cosplay without needing to actually get my ears pierced it all sorta clicked together. i made the ident tag shortly afterwards and swiftly forgot what the text says :P

the rest of it

dress tunic thingy

metal eyelets

red string

camo pants

combat boots

i skimped on accuracy in favor of comfort for the lower half ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ the dress is more of a shirt, i added comfy pants bc i hate wearing colored tights (or god forbid painting my thighs green), and shorter boots bc more accurate ones are expensive as hell. plus any heel higher than this makes walking feel like playing qwop (skill issue). speaking of which does it bug anybody else how long acht's feet are on their in-game model or is that just me

idk if it counts as part of the cosplay but i also add a leather jacket when my arms get cold. i think it goes hard

To-Do:

ink the shaved streaks onto the hairnet

swap out the red leather cord for something less stiff

see if beans would work better than marbles

hand bandages?

single pointy tooth?

make a pre-sanitized version so i don't have to scrub off face paint every time

[box-life-hermit]

A lovely person on tiktok with the username @/ goodboygutz has made a series of videos talking about various "animal coded things" that people do, and as a therian, I love this shit

So allow me to make a list of more animal coded things! There may be overlap between animals

He may have done some of these animals, or he may not have, but I just wanted to contribute <3

If anyone else wants to add things that are [insert animal] coded, go ahead!

Animals in this post: Shark, Dolphin, Crocodile/ Alligator, Bear, Kangaroo, & Spider.

Ik a spider is an insect but shhh

🦈Shark-coded things:

Getting oral fixations / a need to chew on things

This one feels kinda obvious, but you like to swim

This is very specific, but when you go swimming, you like to swim under water and then shoot up above the surface of the water (this can also be whale-coded and dolphin coded)

You're always busy and on the go

Wearing jewelry that has shark teeth on it seems like something a shark would do if it became human

Seeing how long you can hold your breath under water

Liking to wear sleeveless shirts seems kinda shark coded to me idk

Having bad vision is shark-coded to me like have you seen greenland sharks?

If you like to just make the chomping sound just to hear your teeth clink together

If you're really flexible, that's shark coded- bending like u got no bones & shit

Shark coded behaviors are like the himbo version of dolphin behavior but anyone can be a shark

Wearing those hoodies that zip up at the hood feels very shark-coded to me

🐬Dolphin-coded:

The jumping out of water thing mentioned in shark coded things

You're a stoner

Being into ballet / figure skating

If you like to eat seaweed

When you go swimming you like to go diving for things (if you've ever dropped something purposely in the bottom of the pool just to go and dive for it)

Again if, when you go swimming, you like to see all the different tricks you can do (making bubbles under water, doing flips under water, different ways to jump into the water)

If your laugh kind of sounds like "ha-a-a-a-a-a-ah" iykwim

When you get excited or happy, you just start squealing

If you like collecting seashells

Idk why, but being good at math or science seems dolphin coded to me

🐊 Crocodile/ Alligator-coded:

When you're in a body of water, if you like to just sit there and float in the water instead of actually swimming / you know how to float on your back

Wearing jean jackets seems very crocodile coded to me

Liking denim / jean material in general tbh- alligator skin clothes just feels too obvious but ig that too

Having long nails, bonus points if they're uneven

When you go to a restaurant afterward, you ask for toothpicks. Alternatively, you like cleanings at the dentist. Fr just those birds cleaning out ur silly little gator mouth

Your color metal jewelry of choice is black metal, OR wearing jewelry with that like string/ rope material

Wearing pants that have a lot of pockets / genuinely liking camo print? Alligator/ crocodile coded

You can go a really long time without blinking

Adding this for the shits and gigs: you are a Crocs wearer.

🐻 Bear-coded:

You like crocheted things

Youre a honey over sugar person (seems obvious)

Wearing any kind of ugs but especially ugs boots

You drink hot tea- bonus points if you put honey in it

Having a hammock in ur room is bear coded but its also ferret coded

People think you're intimidating at first but you're really nice

In the winter you curl up under your bed with a bunch of stuffed animals and warm blankets

Not being a morning person is bear coded imo

Liking smores but specifically liking MAKING smores

This seems kinda obvious too but if you like to go camping

When you "nap," it's over 3hrs / you are a deep sleeper. Bonus points if you snore that is suuuper bear coded.

When you're mad, your go-to thing is to just grunt or yell

If your bed has a lot of blankets on it- bonus points if theyre soft / fuzzy throw blankets

Wearing oversized hoodies / wearing those hoodie blanket things (oodies?)

Your love language is aggressive affection

You like wearing fingerless mittens

You like climbing trees (also feels a little obvious)

When you're really excited/ hyped, you jump up and down. Also, you like trampolines (feels obvious) (can be rabbit coded)

🦘Kangaroo-coded:

(Will be overlap with bunny coded things)

When you need to get somewhere in a hurry, instead of running, you might start skipping

You need to have pockets on the clothes your wearing (similar to alligator/ crocodile coded)

If someone asked you to hold a cat or puppy/ small animal, you would hold it by cradleing it like a baby

Wearing big boots? Kangaroo behavior imo

Wearing sunglasses? Idk it's kangaroo coded bc I say so 🤷🏽‍♂️

When you go out, you have a million things in your bag - you're the type of person to bring a bunch of things "just in case"

Youre the type of person to furrow your brow when you get confused / focused

🕷Spider-coded:

Not exactly that you're someone who likes WEARING crocheted things, but that you're someone who does crochet / knit (can also be bird coded)

You were into rainbow-loom as a kid

Sewing/ any type of skill like that seems super spider coded

If your bed has a million random items in it like your phone, a water bottle, airpods, ect.

Having long but even nails seems spider-coded

This seems obvious, but if you're into areal arts with silks

If you're someone who wears a lot of fishnets- fishnet tights, fishnet top, fishnet gloves

When you have a straw wrapper / when you pick off loose strings on your clothes you roll them into a ball

You're someone who likes round-shaped foods; like a rice ball, a cake pop, donut holes, cheese balls, etc.

Wearing lacey clothes feels spider-coded

Follow for more!

[pattern-recognition]

anguishing over the fact that I’ll never be rocking the 1950s west german bundeswehr nazi splittertarn camo jacket with Che Guevara printed on the back. something something dialectics

[silverior968]

Tfp gijinkas (3/4) The Wreckers :] I ljike them

Post 1 Post 2

[Image ID: A character sheet with two characters on it. On the left is a human version of Bulkhead from Transformers Prime, who is drawn as a fat black man in his early 40s. His hair is dark brown with a single gray streak in it, and tied in a low ponytail. He also has a beard and thick eyebrows. His eyes are dark brown and he is grinning. There are multiple small scars on his face. His outfit consists of a green camo jacket with reinforced black patches on the elbows and shoulders, a black t-shirt with the autobots logo on it, black and gray work gloves, green cargo pants and brown hiking boots. The design notes placed around him read as follows: "For him and Wheeljack I tried to aim for the early 40s ballpark", "he gets a few gray hairs as a treat", "I incorporated the logo into his design as a print on his t-shirt. It ended up looking like a band shirt, which would be a fun AU idea, if slightly worrying (no band should be injury-prone enough to need a surgically trained doctor on constant standby)" "proper sturdy work boots- also suitable for hiking". To his right is a human version of Wheeljack from the same franchise, drawn as a lean white man in his early 40s. His hair is ash-colored and very shaggy. On his head he has a dark brown cowboy hat. His eyes are grey and he has a slightly crooked nose, like it had broken before and never set the same way as it was before. He also has many small scars on his face and is grinning. In addition to his hat, his outfit consists of a white, green and red plaid shirt that's half tucked, a light gray aviator jacket, a dark brown belt with a silver buckle, dark red trousers and dark brown boots. He is holding his hat with one hand. The character design notes placed around him read as follows: "I want to put him in a salad spinner", "this jacket used to be white but it hasn't been washed like ever", "I accidentally made him look too cool so I had to give him the most dripless outfit ever", "I just had to give him a cowboy hat - he probably never takes it off because he's developed hat hair like this". The last note has a small doodle of him without his hat on, showing that the hair at the top of his head is perfectly smooth thanks to the hat. / End ID]

[hauntedkeys]

I have this weirdly distinct image in my head of Percy Reed as a real living boy wearing an old baseball hat, an Ethel Cain shirt, and a worn camo print jacket doing drop spins on a color guard rifle.

[jollycrowntragedy]

here’s everything I have on TMR! What? You didn’t ask for this? DID I FRICKING STUTTER? TAKE IT. NOW.

Splinter: 36 ( originally human, now dumbo rat, mutated at 19*) 

he’s really not that old this time guys

Pretty damn chill about most things

Like, as long as you finish your chores, read a book everyday, and stay a virgin until your 17, your freaking good

Slight depression because of his past

misses being human sometimes 

Monda: 18 (✨FREE HOME✨, and living here by Mikey’s request and her own will) ( still working on species)

FRICKING HIPPY

HIPPY ALERT 

bell bottoms, tie dye, heart shaped sunglasses, and all natural deodorant

Vegetarian ( she claims it’s to make a point, but it’s really just dietary limits)

Actually doesn’t care that everyone else likes meat, and respects their diet just like they respect hers

Will literally do any chore on the farm, she doesn’t give a crap

Art! Yey

Donnie and her bond over Steven universe

* crosses arms in a pout* If Rottmnt can have Cassandra then I can have Monda

Mikey: 17 (oldest) spotted turtle *

THE older brother. Period. End of statement 

That is actually his whole personality, adorable big brother

Not the smartest at times, but he tries 

Would prolly be a chad if it weren’t for his fam

Backwards baseball hat, oversized T-shirt, cargo shorts or jeans 

Very easy going

Yk, Except for the crippling fear that he’s not doing good enough, and so upset that he can’t force himself to try harder and be more serious 

Erm- ADHD anyone?

Had a phase when he was obsessed with medical dramas, so it led him to a unhinged amount of medical research, and now he’s the family medic  

April: 16 ( Bad parent life, she is currently on the run and they don’t really care)

This is the most respectable and patriotic bitch you will ever meet

Very responsible, helps Mikey with his older sibling duties 

Wants to join the military, but,, insufficient funds 🥲( and I mean she’s completely broke) ( also parent consent isn’t a great topic for her either)

Probably the most emotionally fragile out of the gang, but she hides it really well

Runs herself ragged with chores bc she feels like she needs to earn her right to live in the cabin 

 The ever present camo print baseball hat, white tank-top, jeggings and heavy duty boots  

American history nerd

Raph: 16 (second oldest) Mud turtle

is it ok if I just,, * inserts 2012 raph with random canons*

The very definition of anger issues 

Plays pretty songs for Mona on his (acoustic) guitar

Loves to play Benson Boone songs the most ( really good at singing too, but won’t do it infront of anyone)

Absolutely terrified of the goats

But he likes the cows pretty ok 👌 

Just like, excessively protective of his brothers

Softieeeee

Likes to play hockey with Casey in the winter

Watched and memorized Hamilton for Donnie, accidentally enjoyed it and went down a late night rabbit hole in American history, now he knows like everything and April was very happy to be able to talk to someone about it.

( Donnie was also very appreciative of his Hamilton references )

Jean jacket, adult cartoon graphic Ts, and spandex ( yes he does get relentlessly bullied for his booty shorts, because he has no butt)

Mona: 16 ( wow another orphan, not adopted by splints tho, just here by Raph’s request- and obviously her own will) Blue tongued skink 

Jolly good bitches ( she’s British..)

Think; Victorian that got thrown into the woods and fell in love with one of the unhinged hillbillies 

Pretty sundresses and sun hats :)

Impeccable manners and emotional management skills 

Really good with kids

Just fun and positive to be around 

 the tiniest bit prissy, just like, don’t make her shovel cow shit or something

Literally the only person the goats like for whatever reason

Has problems feeling pretty sometimes ( Raph obviously tells her that’s “stupitd as shit, your the most beautiful being on the earth)

Casey: 15 ( orphan 🥲, technically adopted by splints)

Baby, punk rock baby boy

 looks up to raph and his assholery skills 

Still sorta dorky and growing into his body

Refuses to get a haircut, splints can only convince him every year or so

Hates sharing a room with April, because she puts her ugly army-print stuff everywhere ( never voices this complaint tho)

Allll the jeans with shit hanging off of them and black T-shirts

Summer: Hits chicken eggs golf style with his hockey stick ( Monda hates it) 

Winter: Actually plays hockey on the frozen lake

By time we actually get to the story, he has became a little less intense in his punk rock obsession, maybe it’s just cuz everyone got used to it

Donnie: 14 (slight older twin) black knobbed map turtle 

Looks like a cinnamon bun, could kill you vibe

Secretly loves to garden, and is the main reason the green house stays alive

Still our little inventor tho 💕

Likes to play with the chickens, and always gets kinda sad when they use one for dinner ( him and Monda bond a little over that)

Slight problem with obsessing over musicals, faves being; Be more chill, Hamilton, and Heathers 

Named the goats after the two biggest assholes he could think of ( Ram and Kurt)

Feels very deeply that education is important and forces Leo, April, and Casey, (and sometimes Raph) to do khan academy 

Leo: 14 (slightly younger twin) European pond turtle

Raph is teaching him guitar 

cONsTaNTly climbing trees

Mikey: “Where's Leo?” Raph: “ in that tree” Mikey: “ why am I even surprised”

Definitely little sibling privileges

Uh yummy = Bugs, dirt, rocks, sticks, raw chicken eggs, flowers, …. Brothers look tasty… but biting is a no no  

Ngl, this iteration is probably going to develop VERY slowly, bc I only really feel the want to work on it when I’m bored of my other projects  

But uhh- I started on Raph a little so I’ll prolly do his bio and stuff first, but here are some things i definitely want 

Bring Casey back to HIS glory days ( no I did not like rise Casandra, why do you ask?)

April is a sister figure, she will also be much less annoying than rise April, and much less bich-ass terrible than 2012 April 

… farm… Yus farm, they live on farm. COZY CABIN, YUS 

Monaaaa! ( and Raph x Mona of corse) 

Splinter is no longer old! He had the bois ( and got mutated) at 19 so… * quickmaths* he’s only 36! not even that old.

Crazy farm kids of the woods,, like Leo ( and Donnie) are always running around and climbing trees and shit.

Very found family, literally the whole crew sneaked their way into living in the cabin ( convincing Donnie and Raph to help build and additional room or bebe cabin) 

I LOVE THISSSSS!!! THE FARMMM HOME SWEET HOME, …. Mayhem = some sorta farm dog?? 

I just want to mention, the cabin is actually pretty big, but it feels small cuz there are so many people

In case this wasn’t a given, there are many farm animals, lots of chickens and a small herd of cows, two very mean goats named Ram and Kurt, a farm cat named Thomas ( he is a very distinguished gentleman), and mayhem the Britney spaniel.

9 person/ mutant body count…. 9 people, jeez…. Why do I do this to myself?

uh that’s what I got for now, working on a backstory for how everyone ended up here, but this is what I got for now