#making me wanna make a gravity falls opening

[madaboutmunson]

Circuits

For the dailydrabble prompt 'Static' by @strangerthingswritersguild

Ao3 Link

TW: Afterlife but not quite Characters: Eddie Munson, Wayne Munson, Steve Harrington Summary: Caught between life and death, Eddie must find a way to reconnect with the people who love him.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

That’s all that he can hear other than a low, constant hum in the background of something, but not quite anything.

For a moment, he can see nothing. Then he can see himself, asleep, lying down, hair splayed out on a clinically white pillow like a frizzy spider web.

But he’s not looking in a mirror. Can't be. His eyes are open, and his reflection's eyes are closed, in what looks like a peaceful slumber. But the world is desaturated and hued in blue.

He reaches out his hand to his mirror image, but something slows his arm, as if it were moving through pudding.

What the fuck?

But as he lays his hand down, it’s about to get weirder. His hand passes through something. It sends goosebumps straight up his arm. He turns to see the fluorescent light strip buzz and glow, and he realises he’s on the ceiling.

And in that realisation, it’s a challenge to stay on it. Soon gravity is very present, and he’s falling. He scrambles. Fear makes him close his eyes for the impending drop. I don’t want to fall. And he slows to a stop, inches from the ground.

He realises he’s in control. He jumps up and stays up. He floats down and spins around effortlessly. It’s fun, it’s a buzz, it’s magic.

It’s only when he slows down that he notices another glow. In the sleeping version of himself’s hand, it’s bright and pulsing, and up to that point, everything around his sleeping self has been a blur, until he focused on the glow.

Someone is holding his hand. Why would someone be holding his hand? He moves closer, and at first he isn’t sure, but as it comes into focus, he recognises the wrinkled, work-roughened fingers of his uncle, and as he makes the connection, he appears.

Worry is creasing his brow. Eyes and mouth downturned. He’s mumbling something.

“Eddie. Eddie, can you hear me?”

“I can hear you,” he replies with an eager smile.

But his uncle does not turn to him, his eyes fixed on his sleeping replica.

“Son, please, can you hear me?” His uncle says again, leaning closer to the bed.

“I can hear you! I can hear you. I’m right here!” Eddie feels frantic, and he’s not sure why. He’s waving his hands, but his uncle won’t look at him.

“Eddie, you gotta wake up.”

“I’m awake! I’m right fucking here!” Eddie yells, but all that happens is the substance around him ripples.

His stomach lurches like he’s going to throw up as another entity passes through him and sits down next to his uncle.

Eddie can’t see them, but his uncle turns to them.

“He’ll wake up. It just might take time, that’s all.” Comforts the faceless person.

His uncle slumps a little more but nods, “I just wanna get him out of this place. I should have made him move years ago. Hawkins is too small for him. He’s too different.” His uncle sniffs, doesn’t cry, but Eddie can feel his sorrow. “He’s not what they think. He’s good. Right to his bones. Just different is all. Just different.”

The figure next to his uncle moves. A hand comes into view, but he doesn’t recognise it. The rest stays a blur. It rests on his uncle's shoulder. A soft, barely-there glow where they touch.

“I can’t thank you enough for going back for him.” His uncle turns and looks at the blank figure next to him. “I didn’t even know you was friends. So much I didn’t know. Maybe I should have listened more.”

“No, no. Hey. Listen, he's gonna wake up. And we weren’t friends until Dustin told me about him. Don’t tell him I said this, but that little shit wouldn’t shut up about Eddie, so I kinda knew he wasn’t bad like people made out.”

“How’s that, then?”

“Because Dustin is friends with me and told Eddie all about me, too. Good things. I’m not what I seem either.”

Friends with Dustin. Not what they seem either.

Eddie starts to see the hand come into view, dirt-scuffed, scratched, and bruised. The cuff of a jacket.

“I asked them not to be heroes, but he couldn’t help himself. Sure gave us a little advantage, though, and tried to keep Dustin out of danger.”

Steve? 

Then he comes into view, fresh bandages and clean in places, grubby in others. His hand squeezes his uncle's shoulder. It glows a little brighter where they touch.

Wayne nods. “Sounds like my boy,” he says gruffly, sighs and turns back. The glow where he’s holding Eddie’s hand pulses. It's glowing so bright now, it’s almost blinding.

Eddie reaches for it. He and Wayne shudder at the same time, and he notices his hair floating off the pillow slightly. The thinning hair Wayne has on his head and forearms is doing the same.

“Good God!” Wayne gasps, but he doesn’t let go. He’s squeezing harder. “Eddie? Can you hear me?”

“I can! I can hear you!” Eddie yells at the top of his lungs, and this time Wayne looks right at him.

“Wayne? Did you hear something?” Steve asks in a whisper.

Wayne nods slowly. He gestures with his free hand at the static electricity causing his arm hairs to stand on end.

“That’s not possible. His body is here. He’s not in the Upside Down.” Steve mutters quietly, mostly to himself, trying to figure it out. Wayne only can assist Steve with an extra helping of confusion.

Eddie desperately crawls onto the bed of his sleeping self, “I’m right here!” He says it again.

“God, Steve, I can hear him clear as day,” Wayne says under his breath, trembling slightly, eyes occasionally flicking up to the doors of the ward.

Steve has his hand in his hair, wide-eyed, “I hear him too. Come on, think. You can hear Eddie. I could hear Dustin and then the others. Joyce could hear Will. Jonathan knew it was Joyce. Oh!” He exclaims before getting up and scrambling for his flashlight on his person and handing it to Wayne.

Steve, you clever son of a bitch!

Eddie passes his free hand through the torch, and it glows brightly. Wayne nearly drops it. But Steve wraps his hand around his uncle's, holding it tight. Where all their hands meet a bright, deep orange glow.

“It’s ok. It’s ok. He’s here. Holy shit.” Steve is half laughing, half in shock.

His hand grasps Eddie’s leg, and there it is again. That bright glow. Eddie leaves the torch and places his spectral hand where Steve’s is. His hair shoots up on end as he does a full-body shudder.

“That’s gotta be him,” Steve says, swallowing hard, “That electricity feels like him, doesn’t it?”

“I ain’t sure what you mean,” Wayne says, perplexed.

“Doesn’t matter. All that matters is he’s here. There or somewhere.”

Eddie crawls closer. His form was almost sitting in the unconscious version of himself.

“Wayne, look,” Steve said, pointing at something that Eddie can’t see, but he can hear it.

Beep. 

Beep.

Beep.

Somehow, Eddie knows what he has to do. He releases Steve’s hand. The famous hair falls back into place, but the glow where he touches him remains. He lies back into his real-world form, and suddenly his ears are assaulted with a cacophony of noise.

Beeping, shouting of his uncle, Steve yelling in the distance, trolleys being rushed in. He tries to open his eyes, but it’s too bright. All he can see is the ceiling.

He feels himself being picked up.

“No!” He yells as he can feel his hand slipping from his uncle's. “NO!” He screams until he feels a sharp pain in his neck, and it all fades to black.

He opens his eyes again. It's not easy. They are a little stuck together. A machine beeps steadily at his side, but there is no chaos this time, only a sudden feeling of warmth.

Someone is holding his hand.

“Uncle Wayne?” He slurs.

“No, but he’ll be back in a minute. So don’t freak out. It’s just me. I mean, uh, Steve. Remember me?” He speaks so softly and suddenly releases his hand, but Eddie grabs hold of it tightly.

He shifts his head to the side and opens his eyes as much as he can. “That was pretty smart of you.”

“Smart?” Steve asks, bewildered.

“The flashlight. You remembered the lights. They were all near lights. It’s the electricity. That’s how he could hear me. And he was touching me. It's like a circuit or something.”

Steve doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, “Yeah, like a circuit. With all the static. And the lights… Yeah. That’s how we knew you were there. Oh hey, he's here. Let me get out of the way.”

Steve smiles at him, and Eddie feels woozy as he squeezes his hand one more time.

“He’s just woken up again. I’ll give you some room, but I’ll be right outside.” 

“Thanks, son, I appreciate it.” Wayne’s low timbre rings out, and Eddie tries to turn towards it.

Wayne moves quickly to the seat nearest Eddie, “Hey, buddy. You doin’ ok? Need anything?” His voice is calm and sure, and it soothes Eddie's very soul.

Eddie just reaches for Wayne’s hand, and it’s quickly scooped up by his uncle.

“Now I don’t wanna be too dramatic, 'cause the nurses said it could upset you, but I sure am glad to see and hear ya.” Wayne smiles and blinks the tears from his eyes.

“Glad to see you too. Thank you for not giving up.” Eddie croaks out.

“I never would, son. Never would. Not gonna lie, though, that was some scary shit you pulled on us.”

Eddie chuckles dryly.

“Glad to see your sense of humour is intact.”

“Steve’s smarter than I thought.” Eddie grins.

“Yeah, well, who knew love really can cross barriers?”

“Love?” Eddie half raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, a connection across planes of existence? Or something like that. Dustin said. Why Joyce heard Will, how Jonathan knew it was his mom, how y’all heard Dustin, but Steve heard him first, heard him loudest until you all tuned in. Love and hope.” Wayne says with a fond crooked smile that makes Eddie's heart swell.

“I saw that. When you held my hand, it was glowing. I touched it, and it went all weird, like static.”

“You see, uh, any other glowing points whilst you was floatin’ around?” Wayne quizzes, clearing his throat.

“Yeah. Steve.” Eddie smiles, “Circuits”.

“Yeaaaah, circuits.” Wayne’s eyebrows raise, and he nods like Eddie is missing something.

“You know, son, when they all got out, when that other place was falling apart or something. That Harrington kid…went straight back in after ya. Miss Wheeler and Miss Buckley practically had to drag Dustin away. They said Steve didn’t even hesitate. He carried you out to a hospital, but they couldn’t tell me because of the government. But you know I couldn’t rest until I seen ya. I got nosy. Eventually, your friends convinced them to let me in.”

“Huh,” is all Eddie can manage, surprised into silence.

“I think we should invite him over for dinner when this is over. Maybe all your new and old friends, huh?”

Eddie nods and feels tiredness take hold of him.

“Yeah. Sounds good.”

“You need a rest? I’m gonna be right here, ok?”

“Thanks. I promise to stay in my body this time.”

“You better!” Wayne chuckles.

“Love ya, ol’ timer.”

“Love ya, son.”

[blabberoo]

Im going insane over people making their own animated openings for their own gravity falls au itS SO COOL IM GONNA START FOAMING ON MY MOUTH

[daycore-frisk]

dude. DUDE. come with me for a moment to this beautiful garden and ponder on this absolute bombshell im about to drop on you

BRAZIL CIPHER

Say no more my friend

I actually had a ton of fun making this you guys need to send in more asks 😭 /polite

Also BONUS:

Baby Brazil Cypher :333

@cinocappu @4cerace

[bernardsbendystraws]

Synopsis: Matt helps love feel easy on Valentine's Day.

Warnings: Fluff & Smut. Doll Reader x Obsessive Matt. Troubles saying 'I love you.' Established relationship, cheesy shit, p n v, emotional intimacy and very fluffy smut.

A/N: Hiiiiii, welcome to my Valentine's Day special! This is one of my favorite holidays ever. YOU DO NOT NEED A SIGNIFICANT OTHER TO HAVE A GOOD V DAY. My dream Valentine's Day is spending it with my girl friends in a cabin, just hanging out in matching pjs and shit lol. This is also based off this request (ty anon, pls lmk if you like)

With love and big tits, Rose

wc: 1500+

“I love you.” 

Matt showered you in those three words all day, making sure you felt absolutely cherished. And you did. It was hard not to, between the flowers, chocolates, gifts, and everything else - you felt utterly worshipped. 

01: Breakfast in bed

“Sweetheart,” Matt coos, gently petting your cheek, trying to wake you up slowly. Your eyes lazily flutter open, your senses perking at the smell of delicious food. Usually, you’re the one to wake up first. Mornings are usually a little lonely since Matt is able to sleep in longer than you, but not today. Today was special. After all, it was Valentine’s Day. 

Your smile makes it all worth it. Matt only feels content watching you sit up, embracing him around the waist as you mutter a million gratitudes. 

“-thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you! This is so sweet!” you acknowledge. 

Matt climbs back into bed, carefully pulling out the food for the two of you to enjoy. Pastries, both sweet and savory, an option for any way you were feeling. 

And - apple juice. He knew how much you loved it, even if you felt a little dumb for saying juice was your favorite at your age. Hence why it was always stocked. It only became his favorite since it made you so happy. 

“I really appreciate this, this is so thoughtful,I can’t believe you did all of this for me-”

Matt cuts off your rambling with a swift kiss. You laugh as the crumbled pastry falls from your lips, feeling your cheeks burn as Matt pulls back, his thumb swiping gently over your lips. 

“I love you,” he smiles, pressing another soft kiss to your lips, “-I also love seeing you in our bed. And in my clothes.” 

You go to respond, the three words lingering on your tongue as your lips smack back together. Those three stupid words, ones that he made look so effortless. I love you. You want to say it so bad, but you just can’t. 

“Don’t worry about it, Doll. I just wanna spoil my girl, I know. Okay?” he says, looking into your eyes. 

Sadly, you nod your head.

02: Taking a stroll 

One of your favorite activities to do together - a stroll. This one was special though. Matt had been swinging your hand in his, your steps synchronized as you walked deeper on the dirt path surrounded by colossal trees. 

And then you see it. Both your initials, carved into a heart on the trunk of a thick tree. 

“Matt…” you whisper, completely breathless. 

He tugs you to come closer to the tree, watching with a proud grin as your fingers trace over the carved bark. It had taken him hours. He didn’t mind though, it was all worth it to see the look on your face now. 

“Do you love it?” he asks. 

Quickly, you nod your head, trying to fight the gloss in your eyes. You don’t wanna cry, but something about the effort he used for you made your heart clench in your chest. 

“So much,” you whisper, pulling him into a hug while looking up to the sky. 

You wanna say it. You really, really do. The fresh air gets caught in your throat as you go to whisper the words, your feet digging into the ground as you slug with gravity just the slightest. Disappointment is heavy. 

The gloss of endearment in your eyes turns into sadness. If only you could just say it. 

Matt pulls you in even closer, digging his nose into your hair as he inhales. “Love you so much, I’d do anything for you.” 

He’d do anything for you. It makes you happy, but so jealous. Matt was able to do so much, and you could barely muster up the courage to say the bare minimum. 

03: Dinner confessions 

The restaurant is busy. Fancy silverware is set in front of you, an array of tables crowded with more couples makes your shoulders stiffen as you look around. 

“Hey,” Matt whispers, pulling you back to reality and out of your anxious thoughts as he clutches your hand from across the table, “-just pretend it’s us okay?”

You nod, trying your best to drown out the surrounding chatter. The small conversation isn’t very distracting. Although Matt’s presence and voice soothes you, your body refuses to calm down, screaming at you that this is too much. 

The scratching of the utensils on ceramic dishes makes you flinch. An overly loud man cackling is distracting enough for your eyes to gloss over, making you dissociate. 

“-she’ll have this - yeah, thank you,” You look back to see Matt handing the waitress your menus. “Don’t worry, got what you wanted,” he cheers. 

You’re more than grateful for his consideration. The embarrassment of a server trying to get your attention in the middle of dissociating made you wanna curl up into a ball and die. 

“Thank you, it’s so loud in here, I-” your words trail off into the buzzing air. Matt frowns seeing your brows furrow. You wanna say it so bad. Those three simple words, in a light-hearted manner too. 

You just can’t. 

04: Lost in pleasure 

Oh fuck. 

Your mind was deathly silent, your soft moans breathing into the air as you felt him rut deep inside of you over and over again. 

“Thaatt’ss it,” he husks, hovering over your body in missionary, leaning to place kisses along your neck that’s covered in love bites, “-taking - umph,” he groans hissing as you clench around him tightly, “-takin’ me so good.” 

It’s unbearably intoxicating. He’s so deep, thrusting his length into you repeatedly, slowly but with force, grinding his pelvis onto you and stimulating your clit in unimaginable ways. 

“Matt - Matt, I,” you strain, crying out as he plunges directly into that spot - the spot so deep that it makes you feel like you’re nothing but a vessel of euphoria. 

It feels so good. Tears are threatening to leak from the corner of your eyes, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge as your back arches up, pushing your chest further against him as his teeth nibble into the plush skin of your neck. 

“Tell me how good it feels. C’mon, I - fuck, tell me,” he urges, his hips starting to rock unevenly as he nears his own orgasm. 

“So, so, so good, I,” your words are interrupted by a low moan, your hips starting to flex upward and stiffen from the waves of pleasure starting to crash down, “-love it so mu - ch, love you.”

Matt stills for a second. The words falling from your lips seem to tug a certain nerve that nearly makes him topple over the edge right then and there. 

“Fuck,” he husks, leaning further onto you, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he feels your legs wrap around his waist, pulling his cock back inside you. 

“I love you - love you -,” he snaps his hips extra hard, relishing in the way a sharp whimper pursues through your lips, “-love you so much. Say it again, baby, c’mon, can you do that? For me? Please - I - know you can. D - do it, for me,” he pleas, his rhythm unbalanced and even as he struggles to hold himself back. 

You’re gone. Your mind is a mess - but you love it. The words are hard to fight off when it’s just him, no other thoughts except for how much you love him, how good it feels…

How good it is to be loved so brutally. 

“Lov - love you,” your voice quivers, your throat straining to let the words escape as you feel the knot in your stomach burst. 

“Oh, god,” Matt purrs, letting his instincts take over as he lets himself go, releasing inside of you as your legs pull him in even deeper. 

Matt slowly rides you both through the intense high. His eyes drift down to where both your bodies meet. “Oh - oh my,” he strains, feeling more of his cum spill into you. Around the base of his cock is a creamy ring of both your orgasms. There’s never been so much before. 

“Look at that…” he husks, mostly talking under his breath as he pets over your lower stomach. 

Your eyes follow downward. The scene displayed in front of you makes you clench around him again, making him whimper as his hand grips on tightly to your hip. 

“Baby, oh my god, I - I fuckin’ love you,” he breathes, dipping his lips down to suck gently on your over senstive skin, smiling as he feels your heel press against his back, pushing his cock back into you.

Back in deep. 

You’re both overstimulated. Every sensation outweighs your thoughts, you can’t help but blubber out every word that passes through your brain.

“Mmmmm, Matt… it feels so good, you - you treat me so good, I,” you gasp as he grinds his pelvis onto your clit, his teeth pinching into bruised skin delicately, “-love you so, so, so much,” you cry. 

Matt can’t help but start making his cock rut into you even deeper, his breath coming out as short pants, his warm breath fanning on your neck shakily. 

“Love you more. I… love you - love you more than anything.”

And he’s shown you. He’s making you feel it. 

And it feels so brutally good. 

It feels like love.

[citricacidprince]

I wanted to ask if you can make a doodle of that drifting star gravity falls au but it’s relativity falls. Stan gets sucked into the portal and Dipper has to take care of him.

Took a hot second but I finally did it!!!

This family makes me wanna lose my mind I adore them so so much <333

(Sorry it’s a bit messy and clunky, my brain is fried atm lol)

Notes under cut!

I like to think that Dipper is oh so tired and is trying so hard to find a way to kill Bill so he can get back home to his sister as fast as he possibly can that he’s sooooo willing to aim guns at people. Like sure a laser gun works fine most of the time, but it’s soooo much easier to bring lead to a knife fight, ya know?

Stanley would think Dipper is so fucking cool and Dipper has to do a double take because no one has ever called him cool and meant it

Stanley is wearing a mini version of his homeless hoodie, as a treat :]

Mabel was inconsolably crying for a hot second after this all happened and Stanford was utterly pissed and in denial, weakly kicking her and hitting her with his little baby arms to bring his brother back

Mabel manages to reverse engineer the memory gun to erase the government agents minds, but unlike Dipper, who could’ve done it in 5 minutes tops, it takes her about an hour, so she tells Stanford about her brother Dipper and everything that happened while she does so

While doing this she asked Boyish Dan to block the door and gave him permission to beat up anyone who tried to get in, something the concussed teen was very happy to hear

They manage to buy time, and thankfully Mabel already knows how to open the portal again, but it’s gonna take a week or two maximum to get it fully running again

Stanford is still very very pissed, but it’s a silent and resigned anger aimed at Mabel. She lied to them all summer, she not who she said she was, she won’t stop apologizing when she looks at him now, how could he not be mad?

Besides it’s easier to be mad when the alternative is being so sad you feel nauseous over the fact your brother is missing, you have no clue if he’s okay or even alive, and every passing moment is making you regret trying to push him away all summer because you miss his stupid jokes and laughter and antics so bad it makes you steal all the blankets off his bed and praying to something, anything, that he’s going to be okay so you can just hug him one more time.

Mabel isn’t doing very well either. She completely locked down the Shack until she can bring Stanley and Dipper home. She told Dan and Anjelita that they didn’t have to come to work, something Anjelita gladly accepted, while Dan insisted that he could help. After all you expect him to go home and be normal about this later??? He got a concussion and punched an FBI agent so hard he passed out. He’s in this for the long haul.

I don’t want Stanley and Dipper stuck in that portal for longer than a week, because even if Mabel and Ford opening that portal again would cause Weirdmageddon they don’t care in the slightest, they just want their brothers to come home

[madewithsilk]

ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ x ꜰᴇᴍ ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

— ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ ᴡᴀꜱ ꜱᴜᴘᴘᴏꜱᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴋɪʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ, ʙᴜᴛ ꜱᴇᴇɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴀʟɴᴏᴜʀɪꜱʜᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴɴᴏᴄᴇɴᴛ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʜᴇʀ, ꜱʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴘᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴍᴇʀᴄʏ.

— ᴄᴡ; ꜰᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ & ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ, ᴄᴀᴘᴛɪᴠᴇ x ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴏʀ, ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴅʏɴᴀᴍɪᴄꜱ, ᴍᴀʟɴᴏᴜʀɪꜱʜᴍᴇɴᴛ, ᴅᴜʙ-ᴄᴏɴ!!, ᴅʀ4ɢ ᴜꜱᴇ (ᴠᴀᴍᴘ ᴛʀᴀɴqᴜɪʟɪᴢᴇʀ)

Sevika walked into the abandoned church, footsteps light and cautious as she wandered around to find you. She sensed your presence, the bloodlust and all. She followed the myth that any godless creature would set off in a house of worship, yet here you were, curled under the altar defensively. She steps on branches as she follows your scent inside, making her company known. “Make this easier for yourself.” She exclaimed, holding the wooden dagger in her hand and a bow & arrow on her back. Your whimpers gave you away, she scurried towards the end of the church. You laid beneath the cross and bible that sat atop of altar, blood dripping down your chin, hands tainted with the blood of some innocent man. It was picturesque.

She kept the blade pointed at you, watching fear become prominent in your eyes, widening and all. Your body lacked sufficient nourishment and the little clothes you had on were torn and worn down. It was obvious whoever you had just eaten became your first meal in maybe months. “I don’ wanna’ die—“ Your croaky voice ringed in her ears, unsure of how to move foward with you. Her mind kept yelling ‘Filthy murderer’ but her eyes saw another reality. A woman who was brutalized, and most definetely underfed. Maybe you weren’t as vicious as she had thought, but your inherent nature was immoral to Sevika. The protocol said that if a target had recently fed, they must be maimed.

"You ate," Sevika gestured with her knife to the puddle of blood beneath you. The awful scent of iron and rotting flooded the church, unbeknownst to anybody else. "I was hungry." The desperation in your voice made Sevika back up, slightly shocked at the gravity of your tone. “Since when.” Sevika spat, disdain in how she spoke, trying to keep her utter hatred for vampires and not falter. Your hands snaked around your own waist, blood staining underneath your long, sharp fingernails. You kept crawling backwards slowly. “Three months,” You whispered, a slight gasp leaving her lips. Sevika reckoned you had been starved against your will, what vampire resisted their own urges? “Who made you?” She replied at a similar whisper.

You shook your head, hair disheveled and unwashed. “Nobody— I- don’ wanna kill,” Your eyebrows knitted together, stating what you had been convinced of for a while now. You were villainized for doing what felt right, now a intrinsic guilt ate away at you when you craved sustenance. Sevika grumbled, her shaky hold on the dagger loosening. “That’s who you are. You’re born a killer.” Your whines grow louder, attempting to block out the words you had heard a million times. “You either kill or get killed.” Sevika spoke again, louder, ensuring you heard the words she spat at you. Your knees found their way up to your chest. “No!” You shouted, eyes squeezing shut.

Sevika crouched beside you, dropping the knife in her hand and tearing your hands away from your knees. “Look at me— Look at me, damn it.” Sevika yelled, right in your ear. Your eyes snapped open, staring at her and her closeness. You felt her breath upon you. “Fucking breathe.” She spoke sternly, her hands enclosing on your wrists. You stared at her chest rising and falling, trying to match the same rhythm. Yet, when you found the right pace, you remembered who she was. What she was here for. “Get off of me— I don’t wanna die!” Your blood curling yells and kicking had her clamp a hand over your mouth, noticing how you were to weak to even get her off. “You pull some shit like that again, and you’ll actually be dead, got it?” Sevika’s eyes were exhaustive, holding you down.

You nod frantically, attempting to catch your breath. “If I let you go, will you scream?” Sevika asked after seeing you calm down more. You didn’t want to lie, and you surely didn’t want to be murdered in cold blood. You nodded softly, eyebrows furrowed and your body crumpling beneath her. Sevika rolled her eyes, reaching into the pocket attached to her belt. A blue dissolving pill, made to sedate vampires. “I’m going to move my hand, open your mouth when I do. This won’t kill you.” Her free hand now held the back of your head, guaranteeing you understood. You had no choice but to trust that this woman won’t stab you in the back, literally. When she released your jaw and mouth, you darted your tongue out slightly. The god-awful tasting pill began to sizzle on your tongue. The bitter taste already had your eyes fluttering.

When your body grew limp, Sevika’s arms embraced you.

After this moment, you no longer were a stray. Sevika took you to her place, caging you in the dungeon under her home. She figured you were better alive and sheltered than dead and underground. Somehow, you agreed with her, embracing the captive spot you were caged in. Accepting the criminals she threw you to feed off of. Sevika built a power dynamic between you two, where you revered her for not murdering you and where she internally battled with herself for keeping you alive. Sevika came into your cell daily, dragging the corpses out and throwing them away. She felt complacent in your nature. You sat at the bars, head leaning against them, expectingly. When Sevika came in for the day, your eyes lit up, sitting up on your knees to stare at her through the narrow bars.

“Doll.” She spoke while coming further into the dungeon. She situated on the chair she left infront of your cell to pay you visits and keep you amused. You shuffled on the ground, you looked eager to please, eyes wide, brows lifted, staring at her with your hands on your lap. The cold floor felt rugged against your knees. "You like it here?" She questioned, gesturing around to the plain, grey cell. You had the feeling of shaking your head, but deciding to be grateful, you reluctantly nodded, biting the inside of your cheek. "This is my home." You whispered, licking the dryness of your lips and forcing a tiny smile. Sevika stands now, before your figure on the ground. She reached her hand through the bars, petting your head as you pressed against it. Your eyes closed, basking in the tenderness.

"Is it better than the church, doll?" She asked softly, now crouching to grab your chin through the small gap of the bars. You nodded again, bambi eyes staring up at her. "Feel safe here." You assured her, staring up through your lashes. She cocked a brow, carressing your chin with the pad of her thumb. She acknowledged the mess of your hair and the left over dried blood on your lips. "Safe? How?" She mumbled, admiring your features and then moving her gaze back onto your engaging eyes. "You could kill me," You replied, taking her by surprise with bluntness. "But you won't." You continued, a deep chuckle coming from her throat. She stood, letting your face fall away from her grasp. She tried her hardest not to feel guilty when thinking about how much she enjoyed keeping you here. At her mercy.

The keys clattered, opening your cell door only a few inches for Sevika to slip in with you. She watched your side-sitting, hands on the floor as leverage and legs besides you. You vulnerably looked up at her hovering and towering over you. She sat before you, prying your legs open to kneel between them. She still felt blameworthy. Wanting to take what she yearned for. Fear rattled your body, tensing every muscles within your control. Your hands were behind you, practically laying now on the ground. "Say it." She urged harshly, grabbing your jaw with force. She was pleading with you. "Say you want me, doll." She contracted her eyes, squinting down at you. You shook, not wanting to displease her.

Her hands circled your throat, keeping you upright. "Say it." You choke out your words, body trembling. "I want—" You cough, her grip loosening, allowing you enough airway to speak. "I want you— please–" You beg, unsure of what else to do. Tears gathered at your waterline, uneven breathing. "Want what?" She pushed for a more specfifc answer, growling at you. "Touch me, please, need you to touch me," You couldn't get more specific than that, fearful that you'd crumble and let out a choked sob. She released your throat fully, head banging against the floor, a cried out squeal exiting your lips. She moved her hands to your skirt, hiking it up with necessity. Her head dipped, nibbling on your thigh before granting you a large bite. "Sev'" You murmured, hands trailing and fisting her hair. She licked your cunt through your panties, staring at you from her position.

"Taste so fucking good." She grumbled, setting the panties aside and diving into your pussy like a starved woman. She attached to your clit, stimulating it with flicks and suckles. Your breathy moans and your head thrown back made her go faster, pumping her tongue in and out of your greedy, sopping hole. "Sev'! Please—" She kept going, watching you clench around her tongue. She curled her tongue inside you, hands on your thighs, kneading and groaning against you. Your orgasm crashed against you unexpectedly, lips parted in an O shape. She pulled away, placing a sharp smack against your sensitive clit. It was filthy. Your panting was interrupted by her kissing you tenderly, a contrast to the grip she had on your thighs and the words she whispered to get you to comply.

[mooooonnnzz]

i would LOVEEE an older sibling reader x mable and dipper (platonic obv). maybe like 3 or 4 years older than them ? just reader trying to wrangle them and make sure they don’t get killed 😭 gender neutral reader if possible pls !! love your writing !! <3

By Your Side

Dipper Pines x Sibling!Reader/Mable Pines x Sibling!Reader

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ 3,2k words

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ my FIRST dipper and mable sibling fic/request GAHH i had sm fun writing this i love these two sm

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ reader is gender neutral + is constantly stressed 24/7

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ requests are open!

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ if you wanna be added to my taglist, comment or dm me!

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ i originally wasn't gonna post 2nite since i was working on another fic n i knew i wasnt gonna finish in time so i brewed this up quickly! eenjoooy :p

 ♫ Being Mable’s and Dipper’s older sibling comes with its perks, alongside some faults. Since you’re the oldest, you’re constantly looking out for danger they might accidentally fall in. Especially in Gravity Falls. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t partially relieved that you were leaving just because you didn’t need to fret over the thought of losing your siblings. But during your stay in Gravity Falls was a game of chase. You’re trailing after them like a hawk and they keep running away, adventure and mystery in their minds while you’re freaking out of the idea of a possible broken bone. Speeding through the woods in a golf cart, you’re following Mabel’s cries that echo throughout the woods. “This is insane.” You tell yourself, seeing a dip in the road you were following. “Dipper, hold onto something!” You warn, gripping onto the wheel as you dive down into the cave. The wheels bump and smash into rocks, rattling the golf cart as you drive through gravel and comically large stones. You see Mable trying to shake off the gnomes that were climbing up her body in an effort to push her down to the ground and tie her down. “My boyfriend turned out to be a bunch of gnomes!” She kicks on right in the stomach. He rolls up into the and lands to the ground, leaning on a tree he vomits rainbows on the floor. “Gnomes? Huh, I was way off…” Dipper mutters to himself, scanning through his journal. 

♫ Your eyes read the page once he lands on the gnome page. “Weakness, UNKNOWN?” Your head bolts up to see Mable already tied to the floor, some gnomes standing on top of her while others are surrounding her. You approach the tiny gnome and confront him. He chortles awkwardly. “This is all just one big misunderstanding! She’s just marrying all one thousand of us and becoming our gnome queen for all of eternity.” He tells you cooly, as if this was something that normally happened here. “Isn’t that right, honey?” He looks over to Mable. “You guys are buttfaces!” A gnome next to her slapped her mouth shut. “Give us back our sister now, or else!” Dipper threatens with a shovel. The gnome goes on this whole rant on how he’s a powerful race and Dipper scoops him up with the shovel and throws him off to the side. Taking your chance, you kick all the gnomes away from Mable and rip the bindings off of her. Grabbing her hand, you pull her into the golf cart. “Seatbelt.” Dipper says as he buckles himself, looking at you and Mable’s seat belt to see if you were wearing them. You backed out of the cave and started speeding out of the woods. 

 ♫ That soon sped to be a rapid chase of cat and mouse. The gnomes binded themselves together and formed a huge gnome that was now chasing you through the forest. A few gnomes flew out of their form and onto Dipper and Mable. Mable was fortunate enough to shake hers off, but Dipper was struggling with his. “Don’t worry, I got you Dipper!” She began throwing mean punches at the gnome and Dipper. The gnome flew off Dipper’s face, taking his hat with him. You glance over to see Dipper’s face all bruised up. “Dipper! Your face.” You screech, sharply turning. Mable teeters out of the car and you grab her quickly, pulling her in. “Dipper’s face is okay. Nothing like a little glitter won’t fix it!” Reaching into her pockets, she throws a puff of glitter. Some glitter gets into your eyes, obstructing your view. “Mable!” Dipper reaches for the wheel and begins steering the cart while you try ridding your eyes of the glitter. The gnomes rip a tree from the ground and launch it forward, it lands right in front of you, a few inches away. “Look out!” Mable warns. “Look out for what?” Your eyelids shakily open and Dipper turns the cart quickly, causing it to spin out of control and fall on its side. You crawl out of the cart and immediately cover Dipper and Mable. The gnome goes on a rant about how he's going to take Mable and force her to marry him. With convincing from Mable, you allow her to take the lead. Her smart thinking saved you and Dipper from the evil gnomes and you hugged it out which led to you scolding them, but in the end you made it out safe with the twins perfectly fine. Although, a tad bit of bruising from Dipper.  

♫ “You shouldn’t worry so much about the twins, kid.” Stan offers a light pat to your shoulder, sipping his pitt cola. “I mean I have to, Grunkle Stan. Just yesterday Mable almost became queen to these gnomes! Like, unwillingly. And…!” You’re gesturing wildly as you speak, being extremely passionate about how they stupidly manage to find themselves in danger's palm every single time. Once you finish your wild rant, Grunkle Stan is staring at you with a troubled expression. “Are you sure you’re alright, kid?” His grip on your shoulder tightens and you realize how utterly ridiculous you sound explaining yesterday’s events to some senile old man who only believes what is shown to him on TV. You slide a hand down your face, a stressed out groan expelling from your throat. “Is this how Dipper feels when he tries to tell you his stupid scary experiences in the woods?” You watch as Grunkle Stan smiles, laughing heartily at what you said. “It runs in the family.” He said with a laugh, giving your shoulder a rough shake before walking off into the gift shop. 

♫ Legend of the Gobblewonker seriously stressed you out. You were practically on your knees, begging to join Stan on his shabby boat rather than Soos “yacht” to catch a monster that doesn’t actually exist. Dipper was way too passionate about getting the photos he needed to win the prize money and shove it in everyone’s face that there are weird things going on here. And Mable just wanted her stupid human sized hamster ball. “We can go Gobblewanker hunting on Stan’s boat!” You try to reason as they both clicked their life vests on. “It’s actually Gobblewonker, [Name].” Dipper corrected you, stuffing a camera under his hat. “I like Gobblewanker better.” Mable laughs, throwing a bag of cameras over her shoulder. “What? So you guys are going to leave?” Dipper and Mable hop into Soos’s boat, and before they speed off, Soos yells; “Don’t worry, dude! I’ll keep them safe!” You gripped your hair in anger. “Guess it’s just you and me, kid.” Stan hunkered two fishing rods on his shoulder and stepped into his boat. He set everything up and looked at you with an expectant look. “Did they really abandon me like that?” You were still in shock. Your brain replaying the moment where Dipper and Mable were cheering in the back as Soos sailed off into the unknown. “You get used to it.” He shrugs. 

♫ Spending half the day fishing with Grunkle Stan wasn’t too bad. He mostly distracted you for the most part, keeping you entertained with jokes and outrageous stories from the past. But when silence came and Grunkle Stan wasn’t talking your ear off, your mind wandered to all the scenarios that could be happening to Dipper and Mable while you’re sitting on a boat, surprisingly enjoying your time with your Grunkle Stan. “Grunkle Stan?” Your voice wavers with anxiety. “Yes?” He grunt frustratingly when a fish swims past his bait. “Could you be so nice to your poor old Grunkle and try reeling in a fish for me?” His head jerks to your discarded fishing rod that was propped up on the boat. “Yeah, sure?” You grab a fishing rod, attach the bait and cast your reel. “Back to what I was saying—“ “ —How’s school going for ya?” He shoots you a questioning look before looking back to where his bait was casted. “Uh,” Did he cut you off on purpose? “School is great.” You scramble for words to say. “It’s my senior year!” You tell him rather enthusiastically. “Senior year, really? I coulda sworn you were in fifth grade.” You gently nudge his arm with your shoulder. “Your grandpa's brain is failing you.” You chuckle, feeling something tug on your fishing rod. You gasp as it pulls you forward. “Grunkle Stan, what do I do?!” Stan forgets all about his fishing rod and tells you to reel it in and he shows you a quick reenacting montage of how you’re supposed to do it. Following exactly what he says, you pull out a really big fish. “What fish is that?” You pant out. You put all your strength and energy into getting that fish and it seems like it paid off. He tells you the type before complimenting you with a; “Good catch, kid!” Stan unhooks the fish from the rod and marvels at the large fish. 

♫ Soos comes back with Dipper and Mable but their big boat is now just torn apart and very slowly sinking. You had to hold back a scream because there was no way that this is the condition Soos brings them back in. Dipper and Mable reconcile with Stan and before jumping in, they look at you. Mable bottom lip trembles and her eyes fill up with tears. Dipper has his head hung low, his cap covering his eyes and he’s sadly rubbing his hands together, almost akin to a fly…Their whole weird act made you forget the reason why you were upset in the first place. “What is this, what are you guys doing?” You look at Stan who’s as lost as you are. “We’re sorry, [Name]!” Mable lunges off the boat and into your arms, very dramatically and hugs your stomach tightly. “Sorry for what?” You laughed out, watching Dipper follow in suit. “For leaving you and Grunkle Stan behind.” He said, hugging your side and squishing his cheek into your shoulder. “Oh! I wasn’t expecting you goblins to actually apologize.” You ruffle Mable’s hair, gaining a peeved “Hey!” from her but she makes no effort to swat your hand away. “Dipper told me not to tell you but,” She rose up and stood on the seat of the boat, whispering in your ear how Dipper was on the brink of tears earlier but he didn’t want you to know that because it’ll ruin his tough man bravado. 

♫ A laugh escapes you and Dipper is staring at you knowingly, his cheeks flushed red. “A stick went in my eye! That’s why I was crying!” He defended, his voice all squeaky from embarrassment. “Not you using Grunkle Stan’s excuse.” Stan moved from his spot from the mention of him. “Hey, don’t tell them that now.” He crosses his hands over his chest. “It’s not an excuse! I don’t cry and when I do, I have something in my eye.” The rest of the day was you bonding with everyone, fishing and taking photos with the last camera that survived their adventure. And speaking of their adventure, you properly scolded them for leaving you to the dust without any supervision. Soos interjected and said that he was good at taking care of them himself, and you weren’t going to lie, he did keep them in one piece, but you don’t like how he encourages their wild behavior. You soon realized that Stan was making a huge effort to make sure you weren’t constantly thinking about the twins, you had an inkling in your gut and it was nice to be proved right. Stan doesn't really tell you and the twins how much he cares and loves you but he sure tells you by his actions. The little self made hats he made for the fishing trip spoke the truth in your words. 

♫ “[Name]! We’re going to a haunted convenience store with Wendy and her friends, just wanted to tell you! Okay, byyeee!” Mable scampered off into the hallway, leaving you in your bed stunned for a few minutes. Shaking your head, you sprung up from your bed and chased after Mable. You caught her wrist before she got the chance to leap outside and leave. “You’re what?” You need her to repeat what she said moments prior just so you can think about your next course of actions. “We’re going to a haunted convenience store.” She said so casually you thought you were mishearing the word haunted in her sentence. “Haunted convenience store?” You repeat slowly. “Yeah! You wanna come with?” Mable grins so widely at the thought of you tagging along. “Why don’t you and Dipper stay home and let the teens do their own things?” You suggest with a strained smile. It’s always something with these two… Mable frowned. “You don’t want to spend time with us?” She’s doing her sad puppy eyes and unluckily for you, her big sad eyes tug at your heartstrings a little too much for your liking. “We can do something else together, Mable.” You tell her in hopes that’ll convince her and change her mind but her display of utter dramatics doesn’t falter. She’s still looking at you with those eyes and that little pout to her lip. Screwing your eyes shut, you let out a defeated sigh. “Is there room for one more?” You dryly said. Mable cheers from the top of her lungs and pulls you along to where one of Wendy’s friends' van is parked.

♫  “Guys! Guys!” Mable jumped up and down. “Can [Name] join us?” She’s already pulling you into the backseat with Dipper who had his arms crossed around his chest moodily. “Of course!” Wendy smiled. “We love having you tag with, [Name].” Tambry said it with little no emotion that you doubted the validity of her words. “[Name], what are you doing here?” Dipper whispered, his tone having a bit of agitation to it. “I’m here because Mable told me you guys were going to a haunted convenience store.” You say as you buckle your seatbelt. “Mable!” Dipper threw his arms out in exasperation. “What? They had to know.” Mable stated as if it was obvious. “And thank you for telling me, Mable. Because if it wasn’t for you, someone would be doing things he shouldn’t be doing.” You send a look over to Dipper who clicked his tongue at you in annoyance. “Dipper is acting like this because he’s embarrassed you’re here with his GIRLFRI–” Dipper’s arm reaches over you and pops Mable in the mouth. “Girlfriend?” You pinch your brows in confusion. “Dipper has a girlfriend?” You give Mable a curious look. “No, not yet at least.” She says slyly as Dipper retracts his hand from Mable’s mouth in disgust. She definitely licked his palm. “Who?” Mable slaps her hands on the side of your face and directs it to where Wendy was sitting. You gasp, looking over to Dipper whose cheeks are flushed with a pink color. “No!” You dramatically yelled. “Do you guys have to be so loud!” Dipper complained, grabbing the sides of his hat and tugging it down to cover his red face. “You do know she’s older than you, Dipper?” You mention. Dipper grumbled, choosing to ignore what you said. 

♫ Arriving at the convenient store, Dipper decides to show off to Wendy how cool he can actually be and unlocked the door from the inside. Entering the store, you carefully smacked Dipper in the head. He is trying so hard to appeal to her and it’s really embarrassing to watch. That was really the whole vibe the entire time you were there, you were making sure Mable wasn’t doing anything stupid and you were just watching Dipper try super hard for Wendy’s friends to like them. “Oh my gosh, smile dip!” Mable picked up a pack and held it up in the air. “I thought this stuff was banned in america!” She sat down on the floor, smiling gleefully at the pack of candy. “Maybe it was for a good reason?” Dipper got thrown a balloon full of cheese to the face. He laughed, running over to where the fight was happening to join in. You were going to ask if Mable was actually going to eat candy that has been sitting in this convenience store for who knows how long, but this is mable you’re talking about, of course she’d eat it. Ripping open the packet, she grabbed the candy stick and dipped it in the candied powder. She eyed the powdery stick for a second. In a quick swoosh, she dumped all the dip into her mouth. “Don’t eat too much of these, Mable.” You tell her. “I won’t!” Clouds of glitter poofed out of her mouth when she spoke. You couldn’t quite pinpoint where everything went wrong, but always in this town, something went wrong which led to a ball of events unraveling. Mable was floating up in the air, being used as a vessel from one of the ghosts that possessed the store that locked you and everyone else inside. “Hey, ghost!” Dipper pointed at the ghost. “Yes?” The ghost eerily turned over to Dipper. “I’ve got something to tell you.” The ghost lifted Dipper from the floor. “I’m not a teenager!” You turn over to Wendy. “Did he tell you that he was a teenager?” Wendy let out a shy laugh. “Yeah, he told me that Mable and him were thirteen. Technically teenagers.” You slapped a hand on your forehead, laughing with Wendy. “He’s ridiculous.” 

♫ After recovering from your laughter, you turned your attention back to Dipper who adorned a horrendously cute lamb costume. Recognition washes over you at seeing getting into the lamby lamby dance position. “When Dipper was younger, he used to do this cute dance all the time in his little lamb costume he was obsessed with.” Wendy awe’s. Dipper dances and sings the lamby lamby dance. The ghosts, satisfied with Dipper’s performance, lift his curse. After grouping up, Wendy told a quick rundown of what happened while everyone was out, excluding the part where he had to sing in a lamb costume. Dipper was praised for being brave while on the way out to the car. “How’s your stomach feeling?” You look over your shoulder to see Mable who was lying limp on your back. “It huuurtsss…” She burped sparks of glitter. “Woah!” You laughed. “This is the last time I’m ever going to eat sweet stuff ever again…” You knew she was going to lay off the candy for like two days before rummaging in the fridge for icy pops. Taking Mable off your back, you placed her on the chair and buckled her seatbelt. She flopped against the window, groaning as she held her stomach. Dipper came climbing in a moment after, a pleased smile on his face. “What’s got you looking so happy with yourself?” Dipper’s smile grew. “Wendy wants to hang out with me!” He vibrated with excitement. “You really think you have a chance with her?” Dipper’s smile never wavered, too caught up in the high knowing his crush invited him to more potential hangouts. “Shh, no more talking.” Mable lazily slapped your arm. “You guys talking makes my stomach hurt.” 

Taglist: @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @lovexsage, @teddycricketdream, @theilluminatidragonqueen, @raventeen@cedarmoonzz

[tesscourtes]

saw you had asks open, not a drawing request but wanted to know if there was any more story to your human bill’s punishment-for-weirdmageddon-is-to-turn-weak-human au, I really like it (sorry if you explained this a while back, I only just watched gravity falls😭I’m a late-comer to the fandom)

it’s just superepiccool to me, how are dipper and mabel about him being human now? Soos n Wendy, Stan and Ford? What was it like for them (especially Ford) when he just turned human? What was it like for Bill?

oh hey don't worry, I haven't really talked much about the details of the AU like ... ever. I just started reviving it because I got my partner into the show (they are also a new fan! yay, new fans! Funny enough I had no idea TBOB was coming out so the timing was mad exquisite.) and they have just been an amazing help shaping my messy thoughts and coming up with new, fun plots! It's also nice to know there's someone out there interested in it, so thank's for asking! Now that I read TBOB I want to change the premise a bit, but the core is still the same.

Let me tell you this AU is silly. I'm aware Billford is toxic and there are many corners to dive into to picture their messy relationship. But I kinda wanna keep the spirit of the show here and make it equally as fun as it is disturbing. Given that Bill canonically is trapped in endless Therapy gives me even more food to work with, he just out there being toxic and people repeatedly telling him to cut it out.

I'm not gonna go into too much detail because I'm actually working on the first comic chapter for this AU, but regarding the characters: Each of the Pines, as well as Wendy and Soos, are not happy seeing him, but individually grow more accustomed to him and with him. I guess going from "most accepting" to "least accepting", Mabel took it the best. I wouldn't say she was quick to forgive, but quick enough to give the guy a chance. And I honestly have to say that, although this is 100% a Billford AU, there's so many plot ideas for just Mabel and Bill and their amazing, chaotic shenanigans. Put these two together and the stories basically write themselves. Wendy is pretty similar, and the most chill in actually helping Bill figure out human stuff.

Naturally, Ford took it the hardest. I'm aiming for slowburn here, haha. They got to figure out some stuff that I'm so ready to put onto pages... Ford is a lot of emotions. Confused, angered, curious... Meanwhile Stan is Bills biggest hater. (There is a lot of bullying in this AU) He just keeps up with it because his Family makes him. He's very protective and tries to kick Bill out several times. Soos sticks with Stan, but he's also Soos and has a big heart, so in Bills eye, he's very gullible and a target he can mess with easily.

Dipper is not a fan either, he has a hard time adjusting to the triangle just getting to ... be there. He's suspicious for the most part and Bill has to try hard to get on his good side. But honestly he might be more upset with Mabel (and later on Wendy) for making friends with Bill so easily, even though he knows that's just their nature. I just recently started thinking about Gideon and how I'd like to include him, but nothing worth mentioning so far yet.

With Bill himself, one my favorite parts trying to portray so far is how he's dealing with his new mortality. He adjusts to the body fine, he knows how to navigate flesh, but he has a hard time accepting that it's his body. His new prison, essentially. If it's gone, he's gone. If he treat's it like shit, he feels like shit. Then we add the psychological aspect of things. And more importantly, we add Ford to the equation. When I tell you, that demon is experiencing psychological damage here, and it's fully his fault. TBOB really pointed out to me that I need to dive into his obsession with Ford. How do you even get a man you fumbled so bad, to even acknowledge you again?

I love yapping about this AU, thanks again for giving me the grounds to do so anon! I'm an insecure writer so it'll probably take another hot minute to choose which script feels best to draw out, haha. But I'm glad you seem to be up for the ride!!

[simping-on-the-daily]

how do i meet the strangest men (they always seem to find me)

Summary: The bizarre armageddon, (Weirdmaggedon, you once overheard Ford call it) is upon you and the town of Gravity Falls. Spared from the human throne, the mastermind behind all this wants to share you with him and the man you once called a friend.

Warnings: Yandere content, not beta read we die like Eycludia, swearing, gore, Inspired by suggestive material but not NSFW

Notes: Based on @/yandere--stuck's drabbles and posts!! Title is from Possibly in Michigan, Ford is feral in a cute way and a dog, Bill uses all pronouns and she is transfemme thank you very much,,,,

Gravity Falls was a weird place.

It wasn't a ghost town- everyone here was a lively character, from Manly Dan to Old Man McGucket to Tyler Cutebiker’s horrifying puma-panther shirt abomination to the mailman who wouldn't shut the fuck up about her divorce from two years ago. It's chaos was almost relaxing, and at some point, the gnomes and manotaurs became a breather compared to panicking over last minute Summerween decorations and Northwest’s limo causing seventeen traffic jams in the span of two minutes.

This? This was not fucking relaxing. And it wasn't because of the gaping open wound over your heart, thank you very much.

Even above the chaos, you still felt yourself stressed by the very thought of the town’s circumstances. Bears doing choir and coffee turning to decaf? Sure, why not. A reverse waterfall of what you're pretty sure is blood and the water tower becoming a cannibal? That wasn’t ‘normal’. Those should've been Hades most horrific punishments, Sisyphus and Tantalus style, but no. It was real. And all of it was caused by the fucker in the corner.

Said fucker was currently playing fetch in the floating pyramids ‘penthouse suite’, using your bloody heart as a ball and throwing it to the other side, clapping when Dr. Stanford Filbrick Pines sprinted on all fours towards your still pumping organ. As he held it in his mouth, you felt a pain surge through your chest as his teeth dug through the layers, instinctively curling in on yourself.

“Good boy, Sixer! We’re making new records!” Bill patted Ford's head. Instead of fighting back, as he promised you and his family, Ford melted into the touch, gleeful smile on his face. Was Bud Gleeful dead? God, you hoped so. His shitty cars had no space in the apocalypse. A noise akin to purring was coming through Ford's vocal cords, and you knew that if Bill snapped his fingers and gave him a tail, it would be wagging so hard you'd get dizzy just from looking at it.

“Hey, sweetcheeks! Wanna give it a go?” Bill appeared in front of you, taking your hand off the human skin couch and placing your heart in it like mashed potatoes on a plate. The feeling of it felt gross, slimey in all the wrong ways. Bill intently waited, and you knew that despite his phrasing, it wasn't a question.

You still tried to postpone it, though. “Why not…..yours, this time?” You pointed towards the heart in your hands for clarification.

Bill laughed, hands reaching to where you assumed her stomach was as she chortled. “One day, honeypie! When your eyes won't explode and get in my eye. I like your gusto, though! I knew choosing you wasn't a mistake.”

You looked over to Ford, who was staring at you with lovestruck eyes, waiting for you to make the throw. God, that look was gonna fuck you up. With a sigh, you aimed back, elbow hitting the couch before you released and threw overhead.

You let out a pained whimper as you felt the agony of your heart hitting the roof with a strong thud. The moment it hit the ground, a few feet away from you, Ford scrambled to your heart, tripping on nothing as he ran towards you. With you on the couch and the scientist on his arms and knees, another surge went through your body as you realized how the scene would look from an outsider's point of view.

Bill gave a quick clap. “Impressive throw, snookums! We should go javelin throwing someday, just the two of us.”

You weren't focusing on him, though. All your attention was on Ford, and it felt like neither of you moved. You kept looking in his eyes despite trying to glance at anything else and god, there was a lot in this situation to get desolate or angry about, but damnit you couldn't be mad at Ford, you just couldn't.

For over thirty years, Ford's life revolved around Bill, whether she was Ford’s muse or mortal enemy. And being in a portal for thirty years? Of course Ford had some screws loose, twelve PHDs couldn't protect you from the natural mental decay that'd cause. To come back here, to think you're safe only for Bill to show her face and start the armageddon of shitposting? It wasn't surprising that Ford just……gave up.

Did he, though? Was Ford being mind controlled into this? Was he living in a reality where he wasn't on all fours with an ornate red collar choking him that had ‘good human’ written on the back? Was this the result of being human, of the brain being weird, like some sorta Russian Sleep Experiment or Yellow Wallpaper shenanigans? You didn't know, not really.

But you did know that you loved Ford, or at least cared for him enough to not put the blame on him. Both you and Bill know how he loved putting the pressure on all of his shoulders.

You gingerly placed your heart to the side, and cupped Ford's cheeks with your hands. Only then did you notice they were bloody, and you realized that there was gore nesting deep inside your fingernails with a mental sigh. Ford sunk into your touch, smiling such a happy smile and fuck you think your heart twitched.

“.....Good boy, Fordsy.” You settled on. “You're a good boy.”

You didn't know if it was Ford's tears of happiness or viscera from who knows where falling down your hands and dripping on your legs, but while yes, the sensation absolutely grossed you out, you didn't let go. Seeing Ford in this state was for a lack of better words, magnetic. It felt like a drug, an addiction you don't think your circumstances or Bill would allow you to be rid of.

But was that such a bad thing? Not when it was Stanford Pines who was giving you this exquisite rush?

“Hit the nail right on the head, babe!” Bill interjected, and with a quick snap of their fingers, they were now sitting in your lap. Your hands were taken off of Ford's face and wrapped around the triangle in some sort of hesitant hug. “He is a good boy, isn't he? And you are, too!”

With a gush of wind and a yelp from you, your heart was dragged back into your body, the hole in your body closing. You clutched your sides suddenly, insides now fucking freezing. This wasn't your organ, anymore, not really, it felt like an intruder in your meatsuit, the same way worms made nests in apples and that one unlucky time a fly flew into your ear during a picnic with you, Mabel and Dipper and the ensuing panic that came.

Dipper and Mabel, your stomach lurched with a freezing shiver. 'Let them and Stan be alright,' you prayed. A glimpse from the corner of your eyes caught a dash of pink from the bubble outside, and you felt goosebumps crawl up all your limbs like centipedes with human feet. 'Let them and Stan be alright.' you repeated with a plead.

“Gonna be honest, doll-eyes, I didn't get what Ford saw that was so special about you,” Bill mentioned with a flippant hand gesture, and though you knew you shouldn't give ten shits about what she thought about you, you still felt like shit regardless, like you were in the wrong. Did Ford feel like this too?

“But then I saw you in action, and boy oh boy, I almost turned pink by the sight of it!” Bill's arms were outstretched in a V shape, getting off your flap and floating up to your head. “And then it hit me.” They slapped themselves, and the sight of their pupil going in circles like they were dizzy was honestly sort of humorous, in a really fucked up way.

“You're the perfect middle line between me and Sixer!” She explained, stretching a limb to run it through Ford's hair, who snuggled your leg deeper in response. When did that happen? “And with us by your side, you could be a whole new extreme! Everyone likes a Mystery Trio, and we’ll be the best one this dimension could ever know! Ed, Edd and Eddy will eat their hearts upon seeing us!”

He cupped your face, just like you did with Ford. “You got potential, and me and this cute puppy here got the key, I just know it!” Their eye became a mouth, and as Bill interlocked his hands together, they placed a chaste kiss to your cheek and a more passionate on your lips and god fucking dammit, you hated the way your face flushed and how you felt Ford nuzzle your knee.

Your body only responded by scratching Ford's chin, and he responded with a squeal you could've never imagined him make until now. “Is…..is he gonna be like this, forever?”

Bill spined, an exaggerated way of shaking the head she doesn't have. “Sixer’s just as fun when he's a puppy just as when he's playing interdimensional chess with me! Which reminds me, we gotta introduce you to it sometime, we’d have a blast.” A snap of her fingers caused Ford to fall to the ground more than he already was, and you quickly heard content snores coming from him.

“It's a blessing as much as it is a burden for him. Every good pet human needs a break sometimes, and the best way to do that is to make the 'pet' part of our deal even more literal! No equations or worries in his pretty brain, all he needs to care about is pleasing the both of us!” Bill explained, summoning a cane and pointing to nothing like they were a teacher with a nonexistent blackboard.

“Both of us?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Pet human’s a good look for you, sweetheart! Pretty puppy? Not so much. Besides, I know how excited you got knowing what he'd do for you!”

“I think you're purposefully misinterpreting the context.” Trying to defend yourself, your outstretched arms hit a hard part of the human couch, and you instinctively clutched your hand in pain.

“I'm rarely wrong, honey! But being wrong to you? I could get behind that!” Bill adjusted his tie before giving you a quick forehead kiss. “When we get the kids and Oyster too, we can all be a big happy family! Like I've always wanted!”

‘Please let them be alright,’ you prayed for a final time, focusing on that instead of worrying about the unsettling look in Bill’s eye. Running your hands through Ford's hair, your heart sunk once more upon knowing how wrong this would look from an outside perspective.

You were worried that after a while, it would feel right.

[mintyys-blog]

Hi I don't know if your asks are open or not but I've been loving your young justice and invincible fics and I was wondering if you could do a Bart Allen x Atom eve like reader. Or like any of the young justice character you like. I'd just like to see what you think the interaction between an Atomeve like reader and the young justice crew would be like

NEW FRIENDS | bart allen x atom eve! reader

DC MASTERLIST

WARNINGS:

The rooftop was your favorite place to think—far above the noise of the city, where the stars peeked out just enough to remind you the world was bigger than the mess below.

You floated, legs crossed mid-air, a glowing pink construct of energy flickering softly beneath you. You weren’t officially a hero. Not yet. But you were powerful. Powerful enough to make buildings rise and fall with a flick of your wrist. And sometimes, that was the problem.

You didn’t want to be used. Or owned. Or labeled. You just wanted to help, on your terms.

“You always float like that, or is this just for my benefit?” a voice said behind you, fast—like it had skipped a few frames in reality.

You spun mid-air and caught a blur of red and yellow before he even finished blinking into existence. Your constructs flared defensively, glowing pink and hot.

But he just grinned, eyes sparkling behind his goggles.

“Bart Allen,” he said, sticking out his hand midair like gravity didn’t apply to him either. “Kid Flash. Or Impulse. Depending on how annoying you wanna be.”

You stared at his hand, unsure.

He wasn’t just fast physically. The way he talked, the way his energy radiated like static—it was overwhelming. “Y/N,” you said finally, not taking his hand. “I don’t do teams.”

He raised his eyebrows, floating beside you with ease. “Cool. I wasn’t recruiting. Just wanted to meet the new girl who’s been turning abandoned lots into parks and melting illegal weapons into glitter sculptures.”

You blinked. “You’ve been watching me?”

“Not in a weird way!” he said quickly, hands raised. “I mean, okay, kinda in a weird way, but I just think you’re cool. And I’m fast. So I see a lot. It’s not stalking if it’s admiration.”

You smirked despite yourself. “That’s a very thin line.”

He floated closer, arms crossed now, matching your height. “So why aren’t you on a team? With your powers, the League would probably roll out a red carpet.”

“I don’t want someone telling me who to punch and when. And I don’t want politics. I want to fix things. Make things better.”

Bart stared at you for a second, the wind rustling between you both.

“That’s exactly why you should be on a team. The right one, anyway.”

You looked away, uncomfortable. The idea of belonging scared you more than flying into a building.

“Besides,” he added, grin returning, “you could hang out with me. You’d love the Outsiders. We’ve got a bug guy. You can’t say no to a team with a bug guy.”

You laughed, and your construct flickered, a ripple of energy bursting off it like a heartbeat. His eyes flicked to it—he liked your laugh.

“What if I don’t want to be part of your team?”

He smirked. “Then I’ll keep showing up until you change your mind. I’m nothing if not persistent.”

You floated higher, smirking down at him. “Catch me first.”

“Oh, challenge accepted.”

In the blink of an eye, he vanished—and your heart raced in time with your flight, knowing you wouldn’t mind getting caught if it was by him.

“So where exactly are you taking me?” you asked as Bart zipped backwards in front of you, arms folded behind his head, skating through the air like the wind itself bent around him.

“You’ll see,” he said, cocky. “Trust me.”

“I don’t.”

He grinned. “Fair. You will.”

The two of you landed in the middle of a sleek, high-tech training facility buried deep in the forest. You didn’t need to ask—you could feel the energy signature around the perimeter: reinforced security, cloaking tech, pressure sensors. Serious hero stuff.

“This is the Outsiders’ HQ,” Bart said, walking in like he owned the place. “We’re the unofficial team that does the stuff the League can’t. More freedom. Less red tape. Way more fun.”

You followed cautiously, conjuring a small glowing orb of energy in your palm, more for comfort than defense. This wasn’t your scene. Teams meant rules. Orders. Pressure.

“Yo!” Bart called, his voice echoing into the main area. “I brought someone!”

You were expecting capes and egos, but the people who filtered into the room weren’t what you expected.

You were about to reply when a soft light shimmered in the corner. A girl stepped into view, short, graceful, glowing faintly with yellow light.

“Halo,” Bart whispered to you. “She’s… not like anyone else.”

You stared at her—she felt warm. Not just physically. Something about her presence was soothing, like her aura filled the space she stood in.

Halo stepped closer, head tilted. “Your aura is vibrant,” she said in a serene voice. “But… guarded.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You carry your energy like a shield. Not just your powers. Your self,” she said gently. “But I can see the parts of you that want to open.”

You opened your mouth, unsure if you were weirded out or… seen.

“Is that a weird thing to say?” she asked suddenly, expression scrunching a bit. “I am still learning boundaries.”

You laughed—just a little. A flicker of warmth pulsed from your energy orb.

“No,” you said. “Just… unexpected. You’re right, though.”

Halo smiled, a soft radiant thing. “It’s okay. You do not have to be open yet. But you are welcome here.”

She didn’t wait for you to respond. She just nodded, and drifted back toward the others like she hadn’t just peeled back a layer of your soul and told it everything would be okay.

“…Wow,” you muttered.

Bart appeared beside you, sipping a smoothie he hadn’t had ten seconds ago. “Yeah. She does that. Cool, right?”

You glanced at Halo again.

“Yeah,” you admitted. “Kinda is.”

A bug-themed guy in sleek armor walked up and offered a fist bump. Forager. Coolest alien you’ll ever meet.

Static crackled from the hallway as Virgil Hawkins—Static, you realized—joined the group with a cocked brow and a friendly grin. “Yo, this the new recruit?”

“I’m not a recruit,” you said quickly.

Bart was already beside you, elbow resting on your shoulder casually. “Not yet,” he said with a wink.

Beast Boy strolled in last, arms folded, his green skin impossible to miss. “You’ve got a reputation,” he said, tone even but intrigued. “The girl who restructured an entire gang-ridden block into a community garden overnight. Not bad.”

You gave a slight shrug. “I don’t do this for attention.”

Bart cut in, voice bright: “She also turned a cartel’s entire weapon cache into fireworks.”

That got a low whistle from Virgil.

Beast Boy nodded, half-smiling. “We don’t care about clout here. We care about the mission. And from what I hear, you’ve got the heart for it. The rest? We can teach you.”

You hesitated. This was more welcoming than you expected. Too welcoming.

“Just come on one mission,” Bart said gently, his cocky tone softening for the first time. “No pressure. No strings. You can leave whenever you want. But maybe you’ll stay.”

You looked at him—really looked—and saw past the speed and the jokes. There was something steady underneath all that motion. Something real.

“…One mission,” you said.

Bart beamed. “Knew you’d say yes.”

“And if I hate it,” you warned, pointing a glowing finger at his chest, “I’m melting your shoes and phasing your comm through the nearest wall.”

“Totally fair.”

The rest of the team started prepping, already welcoming you in, giving you space but offering nods, names, warmth.

And as Bart walked beside you, his arm brushing yours just slightly, you thought— Maybe you could do this. Maybe this was the start of something good. Maybe… you were a team player. Just a different kind.

[ckret2]

Chapter 28 of human Bill is determined to wiggle out of being the Mystery Shack's prisoner, featuring:

Bill eagerly accepts an invitation to Gravity Falls' LGBTQ club. He is not allowed to go unsupervised. Stan (whose masculinity isn't secure enough for this), Ford (who's still hanging out in the closet), and Soos (who's engaged) aren't quite sure what to do. Luckily, Wendy's been looking for an excuse to go.

####

Melody rushed up to the cash register and said breathlessly, "Hey Wendy—I know it's almost your break, but could you stay on register just a little longer? Two of the baby dragons escaped and Soos and I have to find them before the next tour."

Wendy looked at the customers milling about the gift shop. They'd all just gotten out of a tour and were looking over the available souvenirs, which meant in just a few minutes they'd all be lining up to check out. "Ooh, I dunno. I'm pretty hungry..."

"Please, Wendy? You can take an extended lunch!"

Was that worth handling one extra post-tour rush? "Wiiith p—?"

"With pay, you extortionist." There was no real resentment in Melody's voice. She'd worked register duty. She understood.

"Okay, deal."

"Wendy you're a lifesaver." Melody hurried to the curtains to the Mystery Shack museum.

"Hey," Wendy called, "which ones escaped?"

"Orochi and Ryuu."

"Aww, not Oro. That sweet guy will get eaten alive in the real world."

"Right?" Melody turned on her phone flashlight and returned to the hunt.

A deeply tanned tourist with sun-damaged wrinkles approached the cash register. She wasn't holding any souvenirs. Wendy said, "Hey, how can I help you?"

She looked straight in Wendy's eyes and said, "The sun sets a deep blood red."

Wendy stared at her. Why did this place attract the weirdest customers. "What?"

Very clearly, the tourist repeated, "The sun sets a deep blood red."

"Um. If that's some kind of reference, I don't get it."

The tourist let out that sharp little nose-sigh soccer moms made when Wendy did things like refuse to take a coupon meant for a rival tourist trap, shook her head in disappointment, and left.

Wendy got the feeling she was going to regret staying on register.

Sure enough, within five minutes, the line started forming—and on top of that, Wendy discovered, the cash register drawer had jammed shut, preventing her from making change for the customers paying in cash. She was in the middle of explaining to the fourth increasingly irate child-toting customer that he either had to pay by card or in exact change, when two more customers came in the door and made a beeline for the register.

"Wendy Corduroy?"

"Hey," Wendy said tersely, stuffing a customer's t-shirts in a bag. "There's a line."

"We're not shopping, Miss Corduroy."

Wendy turned to face Sheriff Blubs, with Deputy Durland standing close behind him. The scratch cards. Her fake ID. She was going to jail. Dad was gonna find out about her tattoo. "Oh."

Durland said, "Could we ask you some questions?"

"Uhh..." She looked at the cops, and then at the growing line of customers. "Can I... grab someone to cover?"

####

Bill had been sitting at the kitchen table looking at the doorway, waiting for Wendy to appear for several minutes, when he heard her muttering, "Shoot, shoot, shoot..." from the living room. Here she came.

"Hey, Cool Girl. What's the hurry?"

"Goldie!" Wendy turned toward the kitchen. "Have you seen Dipper or Mabel? The cops wanna talk to me—"

Bill's eyebrows shot up.

"—and the register is insane and I need someone to cover—"

"They're both out today," Bill said. Mabel was over at Pacifica's alpaca ranch to help out for the day—but Bill had the sinking suspicion she'd asked to go help so she could avoid him. No clue where the other one had gone. "Sorry!"

Wendy groaned. Then looked at Bill. "Hey. Have you ever manned a cash register before?"

"Yes," Bill lied.

####

"Thank you so much," Wendy said, holding open the "Employees Only" door for someone Blubs and Durland didn't recognize: a woman with no makeup, no bra, and unshaven legs, wearing an eyepatch, a hideous Hawaiian shirt, shorts, and yellow foam clogs. Durland looked her up and down, elbowed Blubs, and muttered, "Hey Daryl. D'you think...?"

"Mm." He shrugged noncommittally.

The stranger took Wendy's place behind the register with an eager grin and called out, "Okay, let's keep the line moving!"

Wendy approached Blubs and Durland. "Thanks for that," she said. "So... what can I help you with?"

"Just a few questions about your weekend," Blubs said. "Where were you last Sunday?"

Wendy blinked in surprise. "On... Sunday?" She paused a moment, lips pursed as she thought back to the weekend. "I visited Shop Thrifty with some friends."

Blubs nodded, like this confirmed what he already knew. "And what were you doing there?"

"Shopping? I got some gift money I wanted to spend on cheap junk."

"What'd you get?"

Wendy furrowed her brows, but said, "Uh... some terrible horror movies, a doll that looks like a cross between a turtle and a teddy bear, and a clock made out of a hubcap?"

"So you didn't go near the men's clothing section?"

Wendy squinted. "Nooo?"

Blubs scribbled that down in his notepad. "About what time did you leave the store?"

"I dunno, probably like three or four?"

"Did you go back to the store later?"

"No? I went home and was there all night, you can ask my family," Wendy said. "What happened at Shop Thrifty?"

"A-ha!" Durland pointed over Blubs's shoulder. "How did you know something happened at Shop Thrifty?"

"Because you're cops and you're asking questions about it."

"Oh."

Blubs patted Durland's shoulder. "Keep trying, darlin'. You're becoming a better detective by the day." Durland beamed.

To Wendy, Blubs said, "But as it happens, we're investigating a burglary." He flipped through the pages of his notepad. "I don't suppose you saw any suspicious figures while you were shopping, did you? Perhaps hanging around... the men's section?" He pulled out a crime scene photo to show Wendy.

Wendy had to stare at the photo a moment to make sense of the empty clothing rack; and then she cracked up. "Did somebody steal every pair of pants in the store?"

"Every pair of men's jeans."

"Oh, man. No, I didn't see any pants burglars hanging around—"

Durland said, "We're calling the thief the Bootcut Bootlegger."

Wendy snorted. "But uh... I guess I'll call you if I see anyone lurking in a dark alley selling jeans?"

"We'd appreciate it," Blubs said. "And, could you tell us the names of the friends you went with. So we can ask them if they saw anything too."

Wendy, who was no snitch, said, "No."

Durland shook his head sadly. "Kids these days. They don't know anything about their own friends. Not even their names."

"Nope," Wendy said. "Is that all you needed, officers?"

"I got one more question," Durland said. He leaned a bit closer to Wendy and pointed at the stranger manning the cash register. "Who's that new gal? I didn't know the shack hired somebody."

"Oh, Goldie? We didn't exactly hire anyone, he's just staying at the shack a while—"

"Ha! 'He'! I knew it!" Durland smacked Blubs's shoulder. "I told ya! Didn't I tell ya?"

"Heh. You sure did."

Durland cupped his hands around his mouth. "Whooee, you at the register!"

"Sorry, I can't make exact change, so I'll do you a favor: just round it to—"  Goldie blinked and turned toward the heckling cop. "Yello?"

"You're queerer'n a three-dollar bill, aren't you?" Durland called. Wendy cringed and quickly pulled out her phone to shield herself from the scene of public humiliation.

Totally unperturbed, Goldie replied, "I'm probably the queerest bill you've ever met! Why?"

Soos wearily trudged through the curtains from the Mystery Shack's museum. "Hey, Wendy. We found Ryuu, but we still can't find..." His gaze fell on Goldie and his voice died. "Wendy? What's he doing—"

Durland walked past the line of customers to lean on the counter in front of Goldie. "Hey, how long are you in town? You oughta come to a Rainbow Club meeting!"

"It's the local LGBTQ support and social group," Blubs explained. "We meet weekly at Town Hall. We're actually meeting this evening at seven!"

"We haven't had any new members in ages," Durland said. "Please say you'll come. We're so bored!"

The more they spoke, the more a grin spread across Goldie's face. "Gentlemen, you had me at 'rainbow.' I'd be thrilled to come! My schedule's free! I've been spending all my evenings cooped up in the shack because I don't know anybody in town." He slowly turned his grin toward Soos, who was watching in slack-jawed horror. "But hey, it's not like I'm locked up in here—right, officers?"

####

When the last customers trickled out and Wendy returned to the cash register, Goldie flashed her a quick smile. "Hey, Cool Girl." He nodded toward the Museum. "I saw Questiony tug you aside, are you in trouble?"

"Nah, not really. I guess he's just bothered I grabbed a non-employee to sub instead of getting him or Melody."

"I won't call the labor board if he doesn't." Goldie handed a wad of bills to Wendy. "Here."

"Thanks." Wendy looked around for somewhere to stow it until they could get the cash register drawer unstuck. "Hey, how'd you handle the customers paying in cash?"

"Told 'em I'd give them a discount for the inconvenience: if they were willing to round up to the nearest dollar from the sticker price, we'd eat the rest of the sales tax so they didn't have to fish for loose change. Everyone was thrilled."

Wendy processed that. "Oregon doesn't have a sales tax."

"Sure, but how many out-of-state tourists in a hurry remember that?"

"Ha! You went to work for the wrong twin, Stan would've loved having you in the shack."

"The Pines just don't appreciate what I bring to the table," Goldie lamented, swooping around the counter. He walked up to the "Employees Only" door, stopped, surveyed it like he wasn't quite sure what to do with it, and then very casually made a right turn into the curtained entryway to the museum.

A minute later, Soos escorted him back, an arm around his shoulder. "Museum's closed, dude," he said sternly. "We're looking for an escaped baby dragon."

"'Baby dragon'?" Goldie echoed. "You mean a lizard with fake wings glued on its back?"

"I mean—we're not telling the tourists that, but yeah."

He pointed toward the cash register. "Like the one stuck in the cash drawer?"

There was a pause. Wendy dropped to her knees to peer at the crack at the top of the drawer. "Oro! Can you hear me, boy? Are you in there?" She heard something rustle. "Holy—Soos!"

Soos shoved Goldie into the living room and hurried over to help.

####

"Less than five minutes," Ford muttered. "He's unsupervised in a public space for less than five minutes, and he makes contact with local law enforcement and sets up a social engagement. This is why he's not allowed out of—" He pushed up his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose, grumbling.

Ford, Stan, and Soos were seated around the living room table, discussing how to handle the situation. With the sheriff and deputy expecting Bill, they couldn't not let him go, lest the cops come by again to ask what had happened—and the odds that they'd be satisfied by an answer from anyone but "Goldie" were slim.

"This is what he's been waiting for," Ford went on. "He's been biding his time for an opportunity exactly like this."

Soos said, "I'm sorry, Dr. Pines. It happened so fast! I wanted to go all, 'No, you can't go,' but then the cops would have gone, 'Why not?' and I didn't know how to not say he's our prisoner—"

"It's not your fault, Soos," Ford sighed. "It's not even Wendy's. She doesn't know how risky it is just to let him talk to the public."

"So, what do we do now?" Stan asked.

Soos said, "Maybe make him an 'I bite tourists' shirt?"

Ford said, "I suppose... we let him go. And one of us will have to supervise him."

Stan asked, "At the gay club?"

"At the gay club."

Stan, Ford, and Soos—two of whom had grown up in a time when "gay" was one of the worst things a person could be accused of being, and one of whom came from a very Catholic family—eyed each other uncomfortably.

From the doorway, Bill called, "Can I choose? I'm trying to decide who'd be funniest."

Without looking at him, Ford snapped, "Go away, Bill."

"Fine. I'll be upstairs." They listened for Bill's footsteps to recede up the stairs.

Stan spoke first. "Not it. No way. Absolutely not. What would the ladies think!"

Wryly, Ford said, "I doubt any ladies you might meet there would have been interested anyway."

"Well, what would the guys think! What if someone flirts with me, would I have to flirt back to maintain my cover? I'm not that good an actor. It's not gonna be me." He crossed his arms in finality, then looked at Ford expectantly.

Ford hesitated, then shook his head. "Not me." Stan cocked a brow, but when Ford didn't say anything else, he just glanced at Soos.

"Uhh." Soos tapped his fingers together. "I guess I might be kinda sorta willing? I mean, I wouldn't really mind? But, the thing is, I'm engaged, to a woman, and like, Melody would understand if I explain it's just to keep an eye on Bill. But what if people think me 'coming out' right before the wedding is because I'm cheating or—or dissatisfied or something?" His eyes lit up. "Hey, maybe Melody could come too! We could pretend to be bi. It could be like a date! Would that be weird? Two straight people at the queer club on a date pretending to be bi? It—it feels weird." His eyes un-lit up. "I think that's probably weird. It seems disrespectful. Yeah, no, maybe I shouldn't do that—?"

"Are you guys talking about Rainbow Club?"

The trio started and glanced toward the door to the gift shop, where Wendy was leaning in.

Soos said, "Yeeeah, haha, it's kinda awkward, but, Goldie wants to go, but he can't go by himself... so somebody's gotta take him... it's this whole thing..."

"Oh? How come? It's not that far a walk if you cut past the old church."

"Uhh..." Soos looked at Stan and Ford for help.

After enjoying exactly three seconds of awkward silence, Bill called from the doorway, "I'm under a curse that makes it impossible to open doors!"

"Wow dude, sucks for you!"

"Haha, I know right!"

Ford stood, slammed a hand on the table, and pointed at the doorway. "OUT!"

Bill raised his hands, rolled his eye, and left.

"So, hey," Wendy said. "Rainbow Club's for 16-year-olds and up, and I've... kinda been trying to work up the nerve to go for a while, actually. Just to, you know, explore... options?" She shrugged, grimacing self-consciously. "Maybe this is my excuse. So, if you need someone to open doors for Goldie, I could go?"

Stan, Ford, and Soos looked at Wendy with the blank surprise of two men raised in the sixties and one man raised Catholic who sometimes forgot that the categories of "queer people" and "people they knew" might overlap. Then Ford said, "You're not walking there with him."

"I can drive you," Soos said. "I'll just wait outside in the pickup. It's cool, I've got a lot of comics to catch up on."

"I don't know if it's safe letting him walk openly from the truck into Town Hall," Stan said. "Wendy, how do you feel about being handcuffed to him?"

Wendy stared at him. "What."

"That's not necessary," Ford said. "We can use the chain bracelets."

Wendy stared at him. "The what."

"Listen. Kid." Stan stood and put a hand on Wendy's shoulder. "I know we gave you the abridged version of Goldie's history, but lemme make this clear: this freak's on house arrest, and if you're going out with him, you're his ankle bracelet. Do not let him out of your sight. Don't even leave him alone in the restroom if there's a window big enough for him to squeeze through."

"I think his curse covers windows," Soos pointed out. Ford nodded.

"I don't wanna risk it."

"It's okay," Wendy said. "Treat him like a dangerous criminal. Got it. I've got crazy lumberjack ninja training, I can handle him."

Stan eyed her appraisingly, then nodded. "You're all right, kid." He clapped her shoulder and let go. "And if you're into girls, that's fine by me."

"Um," Wendy said. "Thanks? I'm actually not sure if... Thanks, Stan."

"All right. We've got a plan." He waved off Soos and Wendy. "Go have fun with the gays."

####

Wendy sat in the back seat of Soos's truck, staring at her phone, trying to figure out what excuse to give her dad for staying out late. She didn't think he'd mind her going to Rainbow Club—but it wasn't a conversation she was ready to have. Finally, she texted him that she was hanging out tonight with the Mystery Shack crew—which wasn't technically totally wrong—and put her phone away.

Goldie stared out the shotgun seat window as they drove past the sombrero-shaped Los Hermanos Brothers restaurant. "Hey. Can we get nachos?"

"You'll be late to your meeting, dude."

"Can we get nachos after the meeting?"

Wendy piped up, "I'd be cool with a taco run." Easier to tell her dad she'd been having dinner at the shack.

Soos considered that. "I don't see why not." He shrugged. "Gotta get them to-go, though."

"Yeah, fine," Goldie said, a tad irritably. He slouched down, kicking his feet up on the dashboard and crossing his ankles. "I'm not plotting anything nefarious in the restaurant, I just want nachos."

"Then sure, that's cool," Soos said. "Hey. Isn't it kinda... weird for you to eat nachos?"

Goldie turned to face Soos. "Weird how?"

"I mean. You know. Considering you're..."

"Considering I'm what?" Goldie grinned. "What about me would make it weird for me to eat triangular corn chips covered in yellow cheese? C'mon, Questiony. I wanna understand."

Soos glanced toward Wendy in the back seat, and then away. "Never mind," he mumbled. Goldie laughed.

Wendy wondered what on earth Goldie could possibly be that would make it weird for him to get nachos. After a moment of deliberation, she concluded the answer was probably "lactose intolerant." She cleared her throat. "Hey, thanks for giving us a ride, Soos." Even if it probably would've been faster to walk.

"Oh yeah, no problem dude," Soos said. "Hey—aren't you sixteen now? Are you gonna get your own car sometime soon? I don't mind giving you a ride. I'm just curious. Making conversation."

Wendy groaned. "No. I haven't got my license yet, and I don't want to. As soon as I can drive, I'll be useful. Dad's gonna ask me to drive the boys around, and I'll be the friend that gives everyone else rides, right? And being a taxi sounds like crap." She paused, remembering where she was sitting. "No offense, Soos."

"None taken."

"But it's starting to stress me out. My dad keeps asking when I wanna start driver's ed. And I've started having stress nightmares about needing a car in an emergency and not having one? And then Gideon's dad swoops into the dream to offer a Reasonably-Priced Discount Used Car?"

Soos laughed. "Oh man, like all those commercials he's been running on the local stations? 'There's no need to barter—'"

Goldie and Wendy both completed the line, "'—you can drive for a quarter.'"

Wendy groaned louder. "All those annoying Gleeful Auto jingles are seeping into my dreams. How does that even make sense! I don't understand the economy, how do you sell a car for a twenty-five cent down payment and make a profit off of it? What if the customer just doesn't pay the rest?"

Thoughtfully, Soos said, "I think it has to do with interest."

"Well, I'm not interested. Especially when I'm asleep."

"I think Mabel's got a pile of books on controlling your dreams right now," Goldie said. "You could ask her about them."

"Do any of those books teach you how to install dream ad block?"

Goldie laughed. "It can't hurt to check!"

####

"Easy, there," Stan said, watching from his armchair with a can of cider as Ford paced in the entryway, back and forth past the living room. "You're gonna wear a hole in the floorboards."

Ford did not stop pacing. "I should have gone with them," he said. "What does it matter that I didn't want to. Somebody who understands what Bill really is should be in that meeting with him."

"Come on. As long as he doesn't get an opportunity to escape, how much trouble can he really get in? What do you think he's gonna do, kill the sheriff with a folding chair?"

"I'm more worried about his opportunities to network. I don't want him making friends on the outside. That's more people he can manipulate."

"Okay, sure. But how could you stop it if you were there? What would you do, scold him every time he acts nice to somebody?"

A sigh. "I suppose you're right. I just... don't like not knowing what he's doing there."

Stan took a sip from his cider; swirled it a moment; and then cleared his throat. "Hey, Ford, uhh. You know what? Crazy thing, but—I was surprised you didn't volunteer to go to the gay thing? I mean..." He unnecessarily cleared his throat again. "Ever since high school, I always kinda thought you... I mean, I assumed... not in a bad way, mind, but I just sort of figured... Well, I must've assumed wrong. So. Sorry, I guess."

Ford had stopped pacing to look at Stan. He waited for him to finish stumbling through ellipses; and then, hands stuffed in his coat pockets, he said to his feet, "You didn't assume wrong."

Stan waited. "Uh-huh?" he said encouragingly.

Ford shuffled into the living room and took the chair next to Stan. "Truthfully... I can't tell you exactly what I am. When I should have been figuring that out, I was busy writing dissertations and hiding in the woods. Exploring scientific oddities instead of—well—exploring myself. And then thirty years away from Earth, and now that I've only been back among humans for a year... well—I've never figured myself out." He shrugged ruefully. "I can tell you more about eye-bats and gnomes than I could about my own... inclinations. But whatever I am, it's not heterosexual, I know that."

"Huh." Stan nodded slowly, trying to wrap his head around the idea that you could just not know. He could maybe imagine a girl not knowing—the inner workings of a woman's body were still pretty mysterious to him—but in his experience most guys had a compass between their legs that was magnetically attracted to point toward what they desired, whether they wanted it to or not. What was going on with Ford?

Looking firmly at the wall, Ford added, "For one thing, I think there's been too many aliens for me to be straight."

Stan snorted. "Aliens."

"Aliens."

"Well okay, Captain Cork—"

"Stanley, please." A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Leave it to my brother to even find a way to be queer in a weird way." Stan grinned crookedly. "You know—when we were getting close to graduating, whenever we talked about treasure hunting and getting babes, somewhere in the back of my head, I was making peace with the fact that maybe you'd find a sailor instead. I was fine with it! I just wasn't expecting you to go for the kraken."

"Stan!" Ford laughed in surprise.

"What! Not your type? What does it for you, Dracula? The wolf man? Mothgar?

"I am not telling you what does it for me."

"Okay, okay, fine." Stan probably didn't wanna know, anyway. Aliens. Yeesh. But who was he to judge, he'd gone on a date with a spider lady. "Is that why you don't wanna go to that club meeting? You don't want to talk about the aliens?"

"Not exactly," Ford said. "Attending a support group for queer people would mean opening up about a private, unexplored... scary part of my own identity. With Bill in the room. Maybe I should go to some of those meetings—but not when he's there." His smile from a moment earlier was gone; his mouth was set in a grim line. "When I thought he was my friend, I—offered him far too much vulnerability that I shouldn't have. I'm not letting him have any more."

And a couple minutes ago, Ford had been beating himself up for not putting himself in that position just to keep an eye on Bill. Stan said, "And he's not gonna get more vulnerability outta you. You don't have to tell that freak anything." Rummaging through his brain for the most supportive brotherly words he could find, Stan added, "But—I'm glad you told me."

Ford nodded. "So am I."

####

When Wendy and Goldie walked into Town Hall's main assembly room, Blubs and Durland were standing at the front chatting. Durland immediately waved. "Hey! You made it! You too, Wendy?"

She shrugged. "Yeah, thought I'd check it out."

"The more, the merrier," Blubs said. He gestured for them to follow him to a door at the front of the room, to the left of the podium. "A larger group uses the meeting room, so we meet in the mayor's office."

The door to the mayor's office was clearly marked by the folding table with snacks across the hallway and a stand next to the door holding multiple flags—American, Oregonian, rainbow, trans, and "Take Back the Falls" battle flag. Wendy paused to puzzle over the eleven varieties of bread on the snack table; when she glanced at Goldie, he'd gingerly plucked up the battle flag by a corner to inspect it. There was supposed to be a ban on acknowledging Weirdmageddon, but Wendy supposed the mayor could get away with showing a little pride in his citizens' resistance movement. "Were you still in the shack during... all that?"

"Hm?"

"The big fight." Wendy lowered her voice, just in case the sheriff felt like enforcing the ban. "That's the flag we flew when we kicked the crap out of Bill's stupid pyramid butt."

"Oh. No. I was locked out of the shack," he said flatly. "Must have missed that." He let the flag drop. "I only remember the part where he kicked the shack halfway across the valley with its own leg."

Tyler Cutebiker waved from inside the office. "Wendy, hi! And a new person! Come in, come in! You're just in time. How's your dad?"

Wendy had been expecting that. "He's good, he's good. Y'know, busy."

"Uh-huh?"

"He's been swamped with work since he got the contract for the deathball arena. He's broken like eight axes, so, I think he's really happy."

"Oh, great!" Tyler beamed. "When we were deciding who to give the contract to supply lumber for the new facility, I thought, 'I know just the man to get it!' I'm so glad we could support our local lumber industry." He hesitated. "By the way, do you know if he ever... thinks about coming to a meeting? I've invited him a couple of times, maybe if you brought it up..."

"Listen. Tyler," Wendy said. "You're cool, but if my dad ever shows up at Rainbow Club, I'm never coming again."

"Okay, all right, that's fine, just thought I'd ask."

The mayor's desk had been pushed up against the office windows, and several folding chairs were set up in a tight circle that pressed to the walls. A couple extra chairs were quickly put out for Wendy and Goldie, and Goldie immediately claimed the seat on the mayor's right. All in all, there were less than a dozen attendees, and Wendy guessed she was the youngest one there by at least five years. One empty chair was left open hopefully by the door.

Once everyone was seated, Tyler said, "Okay, it looks like we've got a couple of new folks here today, so let's all go around the circle and introduce ourselves. Please share your names, your pronouns, and anything you want us to know about how you fit under our rainbow umbrella. There's no pressure, just whatever you feel comfortable with, this is a safe and supportive place for everybody. I'll go first: hi, I'm Tyler, and I use he/him pronouns!" He turned expectantly to his left.

Blubs said, "Hi, I'm Daryl, uhhh he/him, and I..." he turned to stare in Durland's eyes, "am in love."

Durland quickly said, "Hi, I'm Edwin, I'm a boy, and I'm in love too!" They grabbed each other's hands, giggling.

"Aww," Tyler cooed, "aren't you two sweet." He nodded toward the next chair.

"Hello. My name is Tad Strange, my pronouns are he/him, and I'm a cisgender heterosexual ally."

Seriously, Tyler said, "And we appreciate your support, Tad. And the snacks you bring every week."

Introductions continued around the circle. Wendy sorta knew a couple other faces, but didn't know anyone personally. The only other girls in the room were an intimidatingly beautiful woman whose gaze seemed to pass right over the awkward teen with unstyled hair and baggy flannel, and two little old ladies in a throuple with a little old man. 

The introduction spotlight finally landed on her. "Hey guys. I'm Wendy, she/her, and I'm, uh... questioning, I guess? Sorta?" She shrugged casually. "Yeah. Questioning."

Tyler said, "Since this is your first time—we keep things pretty casual, here, but I want to make sure this group supports everyone's needs. Do you think you could tell us a bit about what you're looking for in our little club?"

Wendy could feel every eye in the room boring into her. She fought the urge to shrink into her seat. You're sixteen. You're the cool girl. Act cool, girl. "Oh, nothing specific I guess. I'm just... exploring my options, you know. Exploring myself. Doing the self-discovery journey or whatever. So... I dunno what I'm looking for? I figure I'll know it when I find it."

Tyler nodded. "We've all been there," he said. "And I know I speak for us all when I say we're honored to be part of your journey."

And then, to Wendy's mortification, Tyler started clapping, and the rest of the group joined in. She smiled stiffly, feeling her youth even more intensely. What the heck, Tyler, you were supposed to be the cool adult. Wendy trusted you. Politics changed you.

To Wendy's gratitude, Goldie cut the awkward moment short by piping up before the last of the applause petered out. "Hiya! I'm 'Goldie,'" he put air quotes around his own name, "I've never cared what pronouns you people call me before and I'm not about to start now, and I do not have the patience for all the paperwork to figure out my sexuality so we'll just wonder together!"

Tyler laughed. "Oh, you're funny!" A couple other attendees chuckled.

"I'm just getting started!" Goldie blinked his unpatched eye. "Wink. Anyway, I'm here to meet new people and have some fun!" He turned an intense smile on Tyler. "So tell me, mayor—where do the people in your fine town go to party?"

####

By the end of the meeting, Goldie had collected six phone numbers—"I'd give you mine, but I'm between phones right now, long story"—and four loose commitments to do something somewhere sometime soonish. Wendy was simultaneously relieved to have some of the pressure taken off of her as the new person, slightly miffed that she hadn't gotten to know anybody, and resigned to the fact that as the only high schooler in the room they probably wouldn't have had much to say to her anyway.

As the club members milled around the snack table having bread, Goldie elbowed Wendy and muttered, "I can't believe they clapped for you but not for me. Is looking for a good time not a noble enough quest?"

"Pfft. Dude, are you jealous?"

"Insanely."

Thirty years in the ghost dimension must do weird things to someone's need for attention. "When I introduce you to my friends, I'll tell them all to clap for you."

"I appreciate it."

The club loosely migrated through the assembly hall and toward the front double door. Durland reached it first, opened it, and quickly closed it. Agitated, he said, "Daryl! They're out there again."

"Oh, no! Again?"

The group came to a stop. Tyler took over, cracked open the door, and tutted his tongue. Goldie curiously peered over his shoulder, and Wendy took that as permission to look too.

Standing on the sidewalk in front of Town Hall were a dozen tough-looking men dressed in leather, heavy denim, and sharp metal accessories. They filled the sidewalk, arms crossed or fists on hips, glowering toward the doors. Tyler muttered, "Oh, every time we have a meeting. I wish they'd knock this off."

"Who're they?" Wendy asked. "Homophobes?"

"Oh! No no, nothing like that," Tyler said. "That's the weekly ex-convict rehabilitation support group—they use the bigger meeting room. They're actually a very open-minded bunch."

"That's right," shouted the tallest of the group, a muscular bearded man. He pointed at a leather pride patch pinned to his vest over his heart. "Love is love! We support queer rights, trans rights, uh... women's rights? What else."

"Immigrant rights?" a man with a gray ponytail suggested.

"Immigrant rights, that's a good one. And... any other rights, too! Except pig rights."

Another man shouted, "No cops at pride!"

The Rainbow Club turned to look at Blubs and Durland.

They heaved sighs. Durland said, "We'll go out the back."

The group out front visibly relaxed when the Rainbow Club came out without the sheriff and deputy. The bearded leatherman focused on Tyler as he passed. "Ty."

Tyler started. "Oh! Hiii, Ghost." His cheeks went bright red. "W-we missed you at Rainbow Club this week, again. Any thoughts about coming across the hall from time to time?"

"Those cops still showing up?"

"Well, yes."

The leatherman—who Wendy recognized now as Ghost-Eyes—shook his head. "Pass. But we can catch up next time you're at Skull Fracture."

"Oh—okay, sure. I'll see you there sometime."

"I'll buy you a drink," Ghost-Eyes said. "I like your new boots, by the way."

Tyler went red from his hairline down to his shirt collar. "I—well—you too, Ghost!" He quickly trotted off, giggling to himself. Wendy watched him go, then glanced over Ghost-Eyes—tall, broad-shouldered, auburn-haired, bushy-bearded, and as muscular as a bull on steroids—and noted wryly that Tyler had a type.

A high voice from approximately ankle height said, "Oh, hi Wendy!"

She looked down. "Gideon," she said. "Wow! ... Hi."

"Imagine running into you here! I feel like it's been forever! How're your folks doing?"

"Oh, great, great. Uh, yours?"

"We're all fantastic, thanks for askin'. I haven't seen you 'round here before, this your first time attending?"

Ah, great. Of all the people to find out Wendy was trying to sort out her identity. "Yep. Just checking it out. How's... the ex-con support group?"

"Oh it's just wonderful! Highlight of my week, honestly. It's good to talk to people who have gone through the same struggles as you."

"Aww," Ghost-Eyes said. "You're the highlight of our week too, Li'l Gideon."

Gideon started. "Oh, where are my manners! Blathering on like this. Wendy, you remember my friends, right?" He gestured around him.

"Yeah—the Discount Auto Mart Warriors, right? You guys are still hanging out?"

Ghost-Eyes said, "Of course! We have a brotherhood forged in the fires of battle against a chaos god's tyranny. Also, the court requires us to do group therapy, so it's easy to hang out."

Gideon said, "And I'm sure all of you remember Wendy."

The Warriors nodded in recognition. Ghost-Eyes said, "Weren't you the one driving through the weirdness bubbles last year? To get that kid to his sister?"

Wendy looked up at Ghost-Eyes. "Yep. That was me. No hard feelings for the whole trying-to-break-your-arm thing, right?"

"Of course not! You were fighting the man. At that time, we were the man."

Gideon said, "Really a terrible error in judgment on my part, I can't apologize enough."

"Aw, come on," Ghost-Eyes said, "it wasn't all your fault. We were all out there, too."

"No no, I take full responsibility." Gideon reached up to pat Ghost-Eyes's knuckle. "You all trusted me to steer you true and I let you down."

Wendy felt a slight tug on her wrist—and only then realized that Goldie had been a little too quiet, a little too long. She looked in the direction her magic bracelet was tugging, and spotted him waiting just up the street, leaning against Soos's truck, hands pressed to the small of his back.

"It was cool to run into you guys again," Wendy lied, "but I've got friends waiting for me, so..."

"Oh, of course, of course," Gideon said. "Are you working at the Mystery Shack again this summer? Tell Mabel I said hello!"

Wendy flashed Gideon double finger guns. "I will not do that." She power-walked away from Gideon's fan club.

As she caught up with Goldie, she said, "Hey. Sorry for making you wait." She squinted. "You okay?"

Face tinted a deep angry red and wearing the most sour expression Wendy had ever seen, Goldie said, "Sure. Why wouldn't I be okay?"

"You don't look okay."

"I don't control what my face does." At Wendy's skeptical look, Goldie pointed toward the Discount Auto Mart Warriors. "I was—thinking over something ridiculous they said. About fighting a chaos god's tyranny."

"Oh, they helped fight Bill—"

"I know that," Goldie cut in. "It just seems... weird to call it that!"

Recovering cultist, Wendy reminded herself. "What would you call it?"

Goldie considered the question. "Fighting a chaos god's anarchy."

She'd been half worried that Goldie was about to start defending Bill. Instead, Wendy tried to puzzle out the specific differences between tyranny and anarchy, and why it mattered to him. "Huh."

"No rules, no laws, freedom from time and physics..."

That was starting to make sense. "I don't know what Weirdmageddon felt like in the mindscape, buuut everyone I knew was still experiencing a lot of physics. When we weren't being turned into statues or imprisoned in tapestries," Wendy said. "Maybe Bill and his minions had no rules and no laws; but when only the guys in charge can do whatever they want, and everyone else is either serving them or, like, getting hunted for sport? I'd call that tyranny."

Goldie's sour look deepened, but there was something thoughtful in his averted gaze now. Like he was searching for a retort he couldn't quite find. "Huh."

Soos rolled down the passenger window. "Hey, are you dudes ready for nachos?"

####

The gossip grapevine moved faster than Soos's truck. By the time he'd dropped off Wendy and brought himself and Bill home, Wendy had texted a quick summary of "Goldie's" anarchy comment to Mabel, who passed it on to Dipper, in case this was a red flag they needed to keep an eye on; and Dipper in turn had passed the info on to Ford.

Ford wondered if Bill really didn't believe he was a tyrant, or if he just didn't want to be seen as one.

When Soos and Bill came in, the first thing Bill did was snatch his hoodie off the coat rack and pull it on, like a snake that regretted shedding its skin and was desperate to slither back inside. Cheerfully, Soos said, "Hey, Dr. Pines!"

"Hello, Soos. Everything went well?"

"Yeah, no problem! We got nachos on the way back, hope that's okay. I left Bill in the truck. Without the keys."

"I almost died of heat stroke," Bill said.

Already headed toward bed, Soos said, "Don't lie, dude. I cracked a window for you."

"Okay, okay. I was fine."

Bill drifted into the kitchen to finish his nachos. Ford drifted after him, leaning in the doorway. Bill had pulled his hood up. He typically only did that when he was in a foul mood, but he'd seemed to be in high enough spirits as he bantered with Soos. Maybe he felt exposed after going into town without his "body" on. (Three decades ago, during the weeks when Ford had been wrestling with Bill for control over his sleep-deprived body, Bill had hidden a vicious little note in Ford's third journal where he mentioned taking off his "exoskeleton" to feed. Ford wondered if Bill saw this hoodie as a substitute exoskeleton.)

"Well?" Ford said. "How was it?"

Bill turned. The false eye on the hood stared blankly through Ford. "Excuse me?" Bill laughed. "Are we on friendly conversation terms now? You want to hear about my day? Or are you just hoping I'll slip up and confess something interesting."

If Bill didn't already know the answer, he wouldn't have bothered asking. "You can't blame me for trying." Wendy hadn't shared much. Ford hoped that if Bill didn't know what the humans had been saying behind his back, he might give away more about what he'd done at Rainbow Club. Talk of tyranny and anarchy was worrying.

Ford could feel the corners of his mouth turning down as Bill's half-seen smile widened. Bill said, "I thought you said you weren't playing games with me anymore." He turned to sit on his chair backwards, legs straddling the seat. "Okay, Stanford! I had a great time! The regulars welcomed the Cool Girl and me with open arms! Fresh air, unfiltered sunshine, an hour of conversation with a roomful of people who don't detest me, a snack table with eleven kinds of bread—"

Ford's grim determination veered sideways off the road. "Wait," he said. "Eleven breads?"

"Yes?"

"Why were— What else did they have? Condiments? Sandwich materials?"

"Forks, napkins, and water bottles. That's it."

"Forks?" Ford echoed. "Forks?"

"Forks."

"Why did they have eleven breads and forks?"

Bill threw up his hands in an exaggerated shrug. "So it's not just me! I looked at that table and thought, 'This seems lopsided,' but who am I, I don't know everything about humans! One grain product or another is just about the most stereotypically human food I can think of, so—"

"No, it wasn't just you, that's—I can confirm that's weird. Why did they do that?"

"I don't know!" Bill laughed. "I don't know, no one else questioned it so I didn't say anything! I wasn't about to out myself as the alien in the room! I just grabbed a Hawaiian roll and made small talk!"

Baffled, Ford ventured, "Maybe it's a... a gay culture thing I haven't heard about?"

"It's not one I've heard of," Bill said, with a tone that suggested if it was a gay thing, he ought to have heard of it. "Hey, the club's token straight guy is in charge of bringing snacks. Maybe he thinks it's a gay culture thing."

"Maybe." It was a somewhat reassuring thought, that perhaps the bizarre spread was somebody's misguided idea of support.

"Glad that mystery's solved," Bill said, as though to him a theory was as good as an explanation. "Oh, speaking of mysteries—thought you'd find this interesting—the mayor's desk is still haunted by bears." He said it as casually as though he were picking up a conversation from a week ago, not thirty-three years ago.

That wasn't a mystery Ford had ever thought he'd get any follow-up on. "Really? Still?" Ford instinctively tugged his journal out of his inner coat pocket and searched for a blank page. "How many?"

"Just two that I saw. I don't know that the third one wasn't roaming the halls, though. I'm not quite the spy I used to be!" He gestured down at his regrettably human body.

Ford waved off the not-exactly-an-apology. "Of course. The limitations of human sight and flesh. Which ones did you see?"

"One male, one female. The smaller female."

"I find it hard to believe the mother moved on without her children. She's probably around Town Hall somewhere."

"If I see her next week, I'll let you know."

"I'd appreciate that." He started taking notes. "Why would they still be there? I would have thought after the last election..."

"I know, so did I." Bill stood and crossed the room with his nacho tray to peer over Ford's shoulder as he lightly sketched out a desk and a couple of black bears lying atop and in front of it. (Ford hadn't seen the mayor's office in over thirty years, but he'd rough out the shape now and fill in the details once he got a look at the desk again, that was how he always did it. Bill had invisibly watched him fill countless journal pages like this.) "The desk was wider. Nacho?"

"Thanks." Ford absentmindedly took a nacho between his pinkie and sixth finger without putting his pen down, and corrected his sketch at he chewed.

"I've got two theories," Bill said. "One: the bears weren't haunting the desk because ol' Huckabone was using it, but because of something he put in it. A cursed talisman or something!"

"Mm. Mayor Befufftlefumpter didn't tend to mess with forces like that."

"Maybe he didn't know it was cursed. Most people can't see the bears. No one else at Rainbow Club acknowledged them."

"And if there is a talisman of some sort, why don't you already know about it?"

"Just because I can see everything doesn't mean I pay attention to everything," Bill said. "I'll snoop for one if you want! Anyway, theory two: they were here for Huckabone, but they don't know he's passed on, and they'll hang around either until they're reunited with his spirit or somebody dispels them. But I don't like that theory as much," he said thoughtfully, "it's not as satisfying. I prefer the intrigue of a good cursed talisman. Don't you?"

"I doubt that whether it's satisfying is relevant to whether it's likely..." Ford glanced toward Bill and almost jumped out of his skin when a wide white eye stared back at him. That stupid hood again. When had Bill gotten inches from Ford's shoulder? His skin crawled retroactively. "What are you doing?"

"Helping?" Bill ate another nacho and offered the paper tray to Ford again.

Ford stared at Bill, stared at his page full of bear ghost notes, then snapped his journal shut and shoved it in his coat pocket. He was an idiot. Ford stalked off toward the guest room. Remember who you're talking to. There might not have been any bears at all. There might not even have been bread.

Bill called after him, "Maybe you should come next week. I think you'd fit right in."

Ice ran through Ford's veins. What did he mean by that? It took a force of will to keep walking to the guest room rather than turn around and confront Bill again.

He shut the door, closed his eyes, and reminded himself: how Bill's eye had glowed stoplight red when he'd threatened to torture Ford's gniece and gnephew; how Bill had shrieked with laughter when he'd invaded Ford's brother's mind.

Ford had been distracted by talk of ghosts and talismans and, and—and bread. (Bread? Really?) Mysterious and mystical talk made it easy to leave those dark memories sleeping undisturbed.

And that scared Ford. Because he thought, for a normal person, it shouldn't have been possible to forget those things, much less easy.

You'd fit right in with my freaks.

He opened his journal, scratched out half his notes about the bear ghosts, and spent half a page untangling how Bill had lured him into a conversation...

And finally concluded that Bill hadn't done much luring at all. He'd just... talked.

He finished with a "DON'T TRUST HIM!!" and underlined it twice.

####

Well. If Bill and Ford were playing verbal games now, Bill had easily won that one.

He'd peppered in twice that he planned to attend Rainbow Club again next week, and Ford hadn't protested. Ford had even said he'd appreciate it. All that, and Bill hadn't had to reveal that he was busily making friends with the local mayor, sheriff, and deputy, or that he now knew where to find his own wayward one-time "sheriff."

All the same. As much as he appreciated getting a win, he wouldn't have minded going 2 out of 3. Bill had done most of the talking. (One of his most endearing flaws, he thought.) He kinda wondered what Ford thought about the bears haunting the desk. Ford had a tendency to overthink everything in such interesting ways.

Patience. This was the longest conversation he'd had with Ford in decades that hadn't consisted of pure, grim business. He was making progress. Maybe next week he could bring home a haunted bear talisman, see where that got him.

He wondered what Ford had thought of his birthday gift.

####

(Thanks for reading! This is probably the longest chapter we've had so far, but I didn't want to cut off before they even got to the club. If you enjoyed, I'd appreciate hearing what y'all think!)

[lovelettersforthedamned]

drunk!college!hockey!peter???? he’s kinda bitchy and sassy (first time peter and bug hooked up at a party?)

Worth It

✰ college!hockey!peter parker x f!reader

✰ word count: 0.7k

✰ summary: a night after drinking and a mistake was suddenly worth it.

✰ warnings: language, descriptions of a hangover, mention(s) of being drunk, sexual tension(!!!), thigh touch.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

gif is not mine. credit to the owner!

Your skin was warm under the thick winter blanket draped over your shoulders. It was almost unbearably hot under it, but God forbid you move from your spot on the bed. You shift, trying to readjust yourself to fall back asleep when your toes brush against someone else’s skin. 

This startles you, it startles you enough for your eyes to shoot open. The bright beam of sun scorching your irises forces you to shut them again, a hand coming up to your eyes to relieve the pain. 

Slowly, but surely, you’re trying to return to your senses. You put the pieces together.

“Maybe I should’ve kissed you the first time I saw you if I knew you’d be this good at it.”

“You know you’re annoying, right? Because I definitely know.”

“Fuck, you look gorgeous tonight, bug.”

Still rubbing your eyes, you hear a groan from beside you. Peter’s starting to stir, and that’s your cue to get the hell out of here. 

As quietly as possible, you sit up, albeit dizzily, and unwrap yourself from the blanket. Your eyes scan the floor for your belongings. The multitude of Peter’s random articles of clothing that happened to also be on the floor didn’t help your search. But once you found your underwear and shirt, you were able to gather whatever else you could find, bending down to start your search.

“What are you doing?” Peter’s voice was riddled with texture, his sudden consciousness clear in his tone. 

Standing to your full height, you groan at your rising headache, “Getting my stuff. You should go back to sleep.” 

He props himself on his elbow, his other hand coming up to wipe the sleep off his face. Letting gravity take his arm back down to his bare torso, he giggles, “Is it crazy for me to say that I’m still drunk?”

“Yes,” you put a hand on your hip, looking at Peter with a tilted head and a look of disdain written across your features, “I don’t have time for this.” 

“That is not what you said last night, bug,” he smirks. His eyes are tracing over your body, he so desperately wishes he could relive the last twelve hours; but it seems from your demeanor that you wish to forget it. 

You’re fed up at this point. You don’t know where your pants are, your phone is nowhere to be seen, and you’ve woken up with the fact that you’ve hooked up with Peter Parker. The last thing you want to think about him, and yet here you are, half naked in his room. “Sure,” you quip, you knew he was right, but you’d rather die than admit to what happened. 

Peter’s smirk doesn’t drop an inch as he steps out of the bed and grabs the boxers he discarded last night, walking over to you. You choose to ignore him now that he’s directly in front of you, but he doesn’t let that last long. Peter crouches down to your level, making sure he’s captured your attention before whispering in your ear, “You wanna ask the people next door? You put on quite the show for them. I doubt they’ll ever forget it.”

His voice sent shivers down your nerves as memories of last night filled your head. A warmth fills your core, similar to one that you felt at the party last night. 

Peter can feel your breath becoming uneven on his cheek; he smiles. He’s got you, yet again. His hand comes up to caress the back of your bare thigh, goosebumps forming in its wake. Peter pulls his head back to look at your face, your eyes looking back at him before a small smile appears on your lips. 

Raising your hands, you shove his shoulders as hard as you could, making the captain of the hockey team fall on his ass. You rise from your bent-over position to laugh at him. A full belly laugh erupts from your frame. Taking a breath, you walk over to find your purse hanging on the door handle and your shoes conveniently placed below them. I’m so smart, even when I’m drunk! 

“I’ll see you at class on Tuesday,” you open his door before taking a good long look at his confused expression, “bug.” You smile again before slamming the door behind you. 

If sleeping with Peter meant that you could embarrass him again, you’d do it again in a heartbeat. 

✰ author's note: and yet another addition to the college!hockey!peter parker and bug lore!!! also i hope this was alright! i wasn't comfortable writing about a drunk hookup, so i wrote the aftermath of it!! don't forget to like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed. send in more asks if you wish!! till next time, byeee!!

[aurora-starlight-silly]

Helloooo ! You are looking to my tumblr ? Wow, thank you !

So, I hope you are doing well ! You can call me Aly, Aurora/star-light (or star)/sunny !

Others : sunnymilky/ giantslow(among us)/ Celeste (roblox griffin game) !

Pronous: she/they !

Fandoms: Undertalle, utmv, TSaMS, among us, hollow knight, gravity falls, wings of fire, cuphead, the upturned, epic the musical...

I'll do principaly utmv !

About me:

•I'm often silly

•english isn't my first langue so sorry for bad english

•I'm undertalle addicted/j

•I'll always answer your questions/coments !

•I LOVE questions pls ask me or my ocs questions :3

•I'm just here to have fun ! I hope you'll have fun with my art too

____________

I'm opened for RP ! (Only utmv) But I won't answer with art...I RP my OCs, but maybe I can rp a sans or a character that's not a OC idk

Ask Aurora:

(actually I probally won't open it again ._.)

First / last

Rules:

-pls add '' to Aurora:'' on the ask so that I know if you're asking me or her !

-You can ask anything you want ! Anything !Just not something, y'know...really weird. Like NSFW. I'm a minor. Don't.

-You can also give things ^^

//statue: sorry, I probally won't open it again...I'm not even sure I'll answer the ones I got, idk I've got so many things I wanna do and I don't wanna answer these :(

MY OCS !!

Undertale/utmv:

Aurora sans :

Her ref here !! -Probally her height here !

-alot of doodles ! (can be usefull to know more abt her personality ! :3)

For any other aurora content (there's alot) you can search ''#aurora sans'' :3

Trust!sans

His ref here ! intro post here

For any other trust content you can search ''#trust sans'' :3

Among us:

banana ! Idk for a real name ._.

Some things/art abt her: here , here and here

Doodles here ! For any other banana content search #banana crewpostor :3

----------

I have other OCs for other fandom and for these but I didn't show them yet :D

My persona !!! : Aly !!

Here she is ! You can find alot of more (the full ref) infos here !

You can also see her ''#aurora answers'', I use her for answering the asks since it's my persons :>

(also, you can still draw me as aurora, I like both !)

_______________

For the use of my characters: well you can do whatever you want, fanarts, interactions, I'd be happy you do actually ! But pls, no NSFW. I'm a minor.

Just tag me so that I can see what you did :3

Also don't steal my art pls, try to make your own art it's better ^^

_____________________________________________

Followers: 207 (WHAT THE F-)

Thanks for reading! Remember to drink water and take care of yourself ! Stay determined and Have a nice day ! ^^

[lovelycrawfishy]

LovelyCrawfishy <3 || WELCOME TO MY BLOG!!!

https://Crawfishy.straw.page FEEL FREE TO SEND GIMMICKS HERE no pressure I just like them :3

AAAA HIYA!! I go by Crawfish/Crawfishy/Cassi/anything like that ! :D

Currently 16 years old and uses any pronouns with a slight preference for mirror because they’re fun and make me happy

I’m an artist who mainly draws fanart of In Stars and Time, but dabbles in other fandoms and OCs hehe. My asks are always open for both drawing requests and just silly stuff!!! I also do commissions if you’re looking for something specific, OCs, etc.

DNI criteria: Proshippers (Recovered ones are fine!), racists, homophobes, stuff like that. Just don’t be hateful and don’t be weird (like WEIRD weird) and you’ll be fine!! Also DNI if you use the laughing emoji because I don’t trust it in the slightest /j

People of any age can interact with my content but please do keep in mind that I’m a minor! I don’t mind if you post explicit content and follow me but just be aware that I very likely will not interact with any of your posts because I don’t want that stuff on my feed <\3

Likes … ISAT, SASASAAP, Legend of Zelda, The Secret of Kells, Steven Universe, Song of the Sea, Mouthwashing, Amphibia, The Owl House, Gravity Falls, KinitoPet, Epic the Musical, Nimona, Violet Evergarden, Over the Garden Wall, Life is Strange, Madoka Magica, Inside Job, Tuca and Bertie, Bojack Horseman, Minecraft Storymode, Omori, Undertale, Deltarune, TBHK, Ouran Highschool Host Club, Paris the Musical, FNAF, The Stanley Parable, Night in the Woods, Webfishing, TADC, Pieces of Powder, Arcane, Fruits Basket, Adventure Time, etc.

Also I tend not to follow people unless they follow me first or DM me (chronic forgetter of the follow button) so if you wanna be mutuals feel free to DM me :33 or if you wanna talk or anything!! Sadly as I am a Crawfish with zero cognitive ability or thumbs I am not very good at social stuff

BYEBYE!!!

Divider by Ianrkives <3

[bernardsbendystraws]

𝑫𝒐𝒍𝒍 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕

[ matt being there for doll even when she won’t ask for help. listened to this song on repeat lmao. ]

That heavy feeling in your chest. Somehow it felt like it was burning you and freezing your heart at the same time. It just hurt. 

You’re not sure what caused it this time. Maybe it was because you forgot to send Matt a goodnight text before falling asleep, but all you know is that you just woke up like this and it’s unbearable. 

|  Matt: Are you doing okay sweetheart? You’re really quiet today :(  | 

He had sent more messages all throughout the day. But for some reason, you just couldn’t find it in yourself to respond. You just couldn’t. 

Take a deep breath. 

The reminder is followed by your nose flaring, inhaling a large amount of air, before your lips puff out while you sigh. It’s not working—nothing is working. 

You don’t wanna bother Matt. You couldn’t even bother to send him a goodnight text, it didn’t feel like you deserved to pester him after practically ghosting him for the past day. 

Warm tears flood your eyes as you sniffle. Why does it hurt so bad? What did you do to deserve it now? 

“Baby?” 

It’s his voice acquainted with a couple soft knocks on your front door. He’s here. 

A great amount of energy is used as you push yourself up from the couch, wiping your face and looking up to the ceiling. Ugh. 

Silence. You twist the knob, opening the door a crack to see him peeking at you with concern laced in his eyes. Matt’s hand reaches to you, stopping just before he’s able to graze your arm. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. 

Your lips tremor as you suck in a stale breath. “I—” 

The words break as your eyes fall to the floor. A pitiful cry echoes as you hear Matt whisper to step inside, following behind you as he closes the door himself. 

It’s embarrassing. You don’t wanna feel like this—you don’t even know why you feel like this. And you just had to make it his problem too. 

“I’m–I’m sorry.”

His lips fall, frowning at your statement. Matt stands there, opening his arms with a comfort radiating off his presence. He doesn’t care about any inconvenience. He just needs to make sure you’re okay. 

“Hey, don’t say that,” he whispers, cupping the sides of your face as he looks down at you lovingly. Your eyes are still glued to the floor. Matt can tell you won’t look at him, not like this. And he’s not gonna make you. 

“Come here.” 

The words are so soft. You feel his arms hug around your shoulders lightly, hesitating to pull you in closer. 

It’s as if whatever string that was pulling to keep you together snaps. Your limbs fall loose, letting gravity make your body fall into his embrace. And it’s so warm. It’s devastatingly warm. 

“Thank you, I just….” you choke on a hitched breath, trying to keep your tone even. “---thank you.” 

“Hey,” his hand calluses to cradle your head into his chest. You feel his chin rest on the crown of your head, somehow making his comforting hug consume you in a safe haven of serenity. “--don’t. Just…just let me be there for you, okay? You don’t have to go through these things alone. Not with me….ever.” 

[blackenedsnow]

hallo!

I really love your writing style and I love that your write about mental illnesses

I was wondering if you could do a fluff beetlejuice x reader one-shot where the reader has hypersomnia? It's basically the opposite of insomnia, where no matter how much they sleep they always feel tired, with rare bursts of energy ;v; I just wanna cuddle lots with beetlejuice while I sleep lots <3

dreamstate daze

WARNING: Hypersomnia, mentions of exhaustion and fatigue; overall soft fluff

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x Reader

NOTE: Hii! <3 Thank u so much for reaching out!! Love that idea, and hypersomnia? ugh, I get it. Enjoy this lil fluff bomb ♡

SUMMARY: You don’t know why sleep won’t ever feel quite right, but Beetlejuice doesn’t mind.

Everything feels heavy, always. Your body, your mind – it’s like gravity has doubled just for you. No matter how much you sleep, you never feel rested. You wake up and you're still tired, still exhausted, like you just can’t catch a break. You're so used to it now that it’s become your normal. You don’t even fight it anymore. You just... exist, in a haze of exhaustion, floating through your days.

The few moments when you have energy are rare, fleeting, like flashes of lightning in an endless storm.

But then there’s Beetlejuice.

He’s always there, a wild spark of energy against your quiet haze. He never gets tired. He never slows down. But he doesn’t judge you for it, doesn’t call you lazy or ask you to do more than you're capable of.

You're curled up on the couch, buried beneath a thick blanket, your eyes heavy, body sluggish. You can’t bring yourself to do anything but lay here, feeling like you've been underwater for days, the weight of the world pressing down on you. It’s a feeling you've grown used to, but it doesn’t make it any less suffocating.

“Hey,” a voice murmurs above you, and you crack open one eye, just enough to see Beetlejuice standing there, his trademark grin stretched across his face.

“You gonna keep napping all day, or you gonna let me cuddle you, huh?” He moves closer, a glint of mischief in his eyes, but there’s a tenderness to his tone that makes you smile despite yourself.

“Too tired,” You mumble, closing your eyes again, the exhaustion pulling me under like a tide.

He doesn’t give up that easily. Instead, you feel his arms wrapping around you, lifting you with ease as though you weigh nothing. You can’t help but sigh, the weight of him somehow grounding you, even as you still feel like you could fall asleep at any moment. He pulls you close, tucking you against his chest.

“Okay, you’re not going anywhere,” he says, settling beside you, his hands rubbing small, soothing circles on your back. “I can deal with you being all sleepy. I’ll make sure you don’t fall into the endless void, yeah?” He snorts, like it’s some kind of joke, but his voice is softer now, the teasing gone.

It’s hard to talk when the fatigue sinks this deep, like you’re trying to move through honey, but you manage, barely above a whisper. “Don’t… don’t get bored.”

“Bored?” He lets out a huff, more amused than offended. “Sweetheart, I’ve been six feet under for a century or two. There ain’t a chance I’m bored here.” He leans closer, voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Especially not when I get to do this.”

You feel his arms wrap tighter around you, pulling you into his chest. His heartbeat isn’t there, of course, but he’s warm, or maybe it’s just the feeling of him being so close that tricks you into believing it. His chin rests on top of your head, and it’s like he’s curling himself around you, willing to make himself smaller, quieter, just to fit into your need for rest.

“’S’like you’re waiting for me to die or something,” you mumble, only half-joking.

He laughs—quiet but rough, like gravel tumbling down a hill. “Nah. That’d be too easy. I’m in it for the long haul, babe.”