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mooooonnnzz · 3 months ago

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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

#gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #dipper pines x reader #mable pines x reader #stanley pines x reader #dipper pines x sibling!reader #mable pines x sibling!reader

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tesscourtes · 3 months ago

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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!!

#tess chatting it up #yapping about the human bill AU #also one of my biggest struggles: how to name a story #after 10 years i still have no idea #anyways (twirls my hair) omg i get to yap about my silly AU teehee #billford #bill cipher #human bill cipher #gravity falls #adfadt #a different form a different time au

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simping-on-the-daily · 1 month ago

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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.

#gravity falls x reader #yandere gravity falls #bill cipher x reader #stanford pines x reader #ford pines x reader #billford x reader #simper scribbles

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ckret2 · 11 months ago

Text

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!)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #wendy corduroy #sheriff blubs #deputy durland #gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls fic #my writing #my art #fanart #bill goldilocks cipher

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sassy-stupid · 7 months ago

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A little Xavier drabble based on my earlier post. It's about 400 words

You'd be the first to admit that it had been a while since you'd gotten enough rest. What can you say, though? Hunter business was booming in all the worst ways.

It wasn't just you this recent increase in monsters had been affecting. Nero and Tara had been putting in extra hours and even Xavier had put in overtime. The latter resulting in barely there bags under his eyes, on his otherwise perfect complexion.

Speaking of your neighbor, he was right in front of your door as you opened it to rush to work.

"Ah, you're awake? Good," he says, the tone of his voice neutral, as always, yet you pick up on the sleepiness laced through it. There's no mistaking it, Xavier only just rolled out of bed.

"Hey Xavier, wanna carpool?" You ask, trying to step past him. He blocks your path, even goes as far as to wrap his arm around you to keep you from slipping past him.

"Jenna called. She told us to take the day off. Another unit will be filling in for us in fear of overworking the unicorns," he explains.

Unsatisfied with that explanation, you still try to push past him. "Well, I'm up now anyway, might as well kill some wanderers."

He leans against you, his weight paired with the arm keeping you pressed against him pushes you back inside your apartment, and he somehow manages to close the door behind him.

"Oh no," you can almost hear that sneaky little grin in his voice. "Gravity," he leans onto you with even more weight, and it's all you can do to stumble to the couch, trying not to fall to the floor. "It's increasing on me."

"Xavier!" You protest. "No, it is not!" You try to push one last time, but he just lets himself fall against you again, successfully making both of you drop onto the couch.

"Is too, (y/n), the same thing happened yesterday" with both of you laying on the couch, though with him still enforcing his 'increased gravity' on you, you could see his face again. He DID have that smug little grin on his face. "The wanderers almost got me because of it. You simply must indulge me and nap with me, or it may cost me my life."

With a huff, a frown, and a yawn, you end up complying. And with a heated and weighted Xavier blanket on you, you doze off fairly quick.

#Xavier x reader #xavier #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace xavier x reader #lads xavier #lads xavier x reader #ive got insomnia so what better to do than write about napping?#for real though what i wouldnt give for xavier to cuddle me to sleep #but yeah disclaimer this was written at 7 am after 2 days of barely sleeping so if its incoherent pls tell me lmfao

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skaters-art-blog · 1 month ago

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Don't let go!!

Please expand the image for better quality static!

This is some more art for me and @eternalduos Relativity Falls AU: Through the Static to the Stars! Here you can see where part of that name comes from!

If you wanna learn more about how the portal works in this AU and the portal incident as it happens here, its below the cut!

Some theory long ago said that the reason Gravity Falls TV shows are so weird is that they are actually broadcasts from other dimensions, leaking into this one. My co-conspirator Artie Eternalduos came up with this beautiful analogy to explain the whole idea.

If a prison has no escape routes, but it has plumbing, then it doesn't actually have no escape routes. Imagine the Nightmare Realm as the prison in this instance, and the TV broadcasts are the pipes. Dipper is not some crazy physicist like Ford was, hes just a film major. Bill has made many different portal designs over the years to compensate for the technology level around them. Ford and McGucket's portal was probably the most stable, but that doesn't mean some of those other ideas wouldn't've worked. So Bill comes up with, and Dipper makes, a portal that utilizes the POWER OF TELEVISION!

Because this portal is the equivalent of squeezing through the pipes as opposed to building a door, its very unstable. If it stays open too long its prone to causing blackouts that kill its own power and shuts itself off.

When Dipper is at his lowest and is alone, Mabel is also feeling at her lowest and is alone. The difference being, Mabel can't get a job anywhere and is about to become homeless, so she takes a chance and drives all the way from Hollywood to Gravity Falls in the hopes that Dipper will take her in. When she arrives, however, she finds that Dipper is clearly in a worse state than she is. She tries to get him to talk to her, but he's suspicious of her presence since he didn't ask for her help. Dipper finally says, "If I tell you whats going on, will you just leave?" Mabel agrees, not intending to leave, just to figure out whats going on.

Dipper than takes her to the basement, and shows her the portal, telling her everything, but Mabel thinks hes gone crazy. She responds with the classic "I believe that you believe that" and Dipper gets so frustrated with her, trying to get her to leave like the last person he told, that he turns on the portal on purpose to prove himself right. This is of course quite a stupid idea and results in Mabel getting scared and more shouting at each other and spewing hurtful words, before Dipper is backed up close to the portal, and something reaches out from the Dimensional Static, finds purchase on Dipper and attempts to pull him back through, which results in the art above!

Eventually Dipper's grip slips and he is sucked into the portal and the act of sending someone through the portal is enough to overload it and cause another blackout. Leaving the portal powerless and leaving Mabel alone. She'll then spend the next 30 years trying to get it going again, causing frequent town-wide blackouts in the process!

If you read all of this, thank you!! There's so much more to Dipper that I didn't even mention and so much to this au, me and artie are so so so excited to share it with you!!

#gravity falls #relativity falls #dipper pines #mabel pines #pines twins #mystery twins #ttstts au

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katyspersonal · 20 days ago

Note

Idk if you have enough to say since he’s a fairly minor character but can you give thoughts on the Hornsent (NPC)? I love him so much and I absolutely agree that he’s a huge parallel to Marika herself and I wanna hear more of your thoughts on that and him in general!

Hey, he is not THAT minor! xD All seven NPCs that were attracted by Miquella and are our guides through SOTE's lore are pretty much in the spotlight! Elden Ring's story just has these important Demigods and characters more strongly involved with them that their gravity makes it harder to focus on the Little Guy 😔 (and all Thiollier fans laughed sfdhfdh)

Okay so uhhh, I will post observations and thoughts in order, because yeah, with this guy you sort of need to pay attention twice or something?

1) He originates from Belurat

The kind of mask he is wearing could've created some confusion, but "the tower" exclusively refers to Belurat in the lore!

Freyja states this much at the beginning, and it is admittedly easy to forget because most likely you check this dialogue just on the first playthrough and before what 'tower' is clicks properly.. but yeah!

A more bold evidence here is that Hornsent will recognise the meal that is trademark of Belurat!

2) Don't be confused though, Grandam is not his mother!

He states in dialogues upon being killed by Leda and if he was not summoned to fight Messmer that his child, wife and mother were killed during Crusade!

2.1) He doesn't mention father nor gender of a child, though?

I think this on itself is interesting, and opens a bit more for potential backstory! His father might have been dead before the Crusade, or... maybe even divorced. x) Or maybe, he survived the Crusade, like Hornsent himself, but perished for another reason; maybe old age, maybe even upon seeking revenge as well? It would still make sense for him to not mention his father even then, because he would not count as massacred IN purge of the Tower!

Saying 'child', not 'son' or 'daughter', also gave me a kinda fucked up idea, listen! What if this means something? For example, his wife was merely pregnant, or the purge happened at the time when she just gave a birth, so he never learned whether it was a son or a daughter? I know I should not make it even darker than it already was, and it is probably just to specify the 'status' (he does say 'wife' rather than calling her by the name, after all)... But imagine...

In any case, his child was still very little! In Japanese he refers to his child as '幼子よ', and I checked... Yeah, it refers to basically an infant, it seems!

3) He is very reluctant to make a connection, even under spell!

After Tarnished gives him the Scorpion Stew, he gives them Furnace Visage (useful item for killing two Furnace Golems that can't be killed normally and to "wake up" one blocking the way in Ruins of Unte). His motivation is, "I desire not to be in your debt"!

And he refuses if you try to give him another Scorpion Stew:

The last phrase (お前と、慣れ合うつもりもな…) is more accurately says something like "I have no intention of getting used to you"! The only thing Miquella's spell did was to give him hope, but he can't open up even to "comrades"!

4) He is not likely to be a potentate, despite his mask!

He is wearing the mask that is otherwise worn by potentates, however, there is something else about potentates:

By the practice of his village of birth! It looks like this is basically a "family business" inherited through generations, something Hornsent already is probably excluded from, since he is one of the people of Belurat!

I think the simpler explanation for why he has this mask is not its context but its practical purpose: "to ward off thoughts and distractions (from his honorable quest of revenge)"! He must remain focused on vengeance; no friends, no falling into despair, no "wax nostalgic 'bout days gone by"... I also played around with the idea that this mask was from his mysterious never-mentioned father rather than something he picked somewhere! Maybe he was one of those Potentate barbarians that somehow climbed social ladder a bit by marrying a woman from Belurat! Don't know whether it is something possible in this society, it is hard to tell :p

Hornsent also doesn't use trademark weapon of Potentates, their butchering knife, but his weapon Falx - something created with the purpose of vengeance! I think it implies that he was not even a fighter before, and only started to wield weapon to begin with FOR vengeance!

4.1) He must not oblivious to where it comes from, though, so what does it say about his character?

Regardless of whether the mask comes from, I doubt he doesn't know its actual origin! I am positive that the people who executed Shamans are long ago dead, but the practice itself is alive. Besides, even Hornsent themselves get this treatment if they've convicted:

So you'd wonder what he is feeling avenging "his beloved people" who put other people in jars, and whether there is some hypocrisy, right? Well, I THOUGHT there was some awareness:

It makes it sound as though he is, at the same time, aware that his folks are not perfect either, and believes in Miquella's new world to fix their flawed, even barbaric culture as well, right? I double checked for Japanese text, and I do not really see it as translation mistake?

ミケラが、その誓いを違えず、一族をも救う神となるのなら

一族を、救って…

In Japanese, he uses 救, which means to 'save' or religious kind of 'salvation'! To 'redeem' doesn't seem to be too far removed from original meaning, but I'd say this gives off more of the vibe of 'salvation' that is justice for the martyred, for those who were murdered unfairly! Justice of God upon sinners and to help out the victims, rather than the 'cleanse our sins' kind of 'salvation'!

Maybe I am looking at it through the wrong angle, but I also kind of like this interpretation more! He is not exactly in the mindset to question imperfections or straight up hazardous religious practices of his nation when the wound of losing his own family, and countless other families being burnt in "cleansing" is what defines his whole life now! Hornsent culture deserves to be criticised, but it is not his priority for the long time now, maybe never again, and it is fair enough!

^ Another line pointing towards him certainly not having "criticism" towards his clan nor intending to, as this is translated very plainly:

…よくも、我らを汚物と呼んだものだどちらが真に汚物なのか、自分でも知っていただろうに！

5) He disrespects Leda without crossing her boundaries

He never once addresses her by name! It is not just how he is, as he addresses not just Miquella by name, but also Marika and Messmer, his sworn enemies! However, Leda he addresses only as:

The thing is, she is not just Leda, she is Lady Leda! She has the title by her knightly status, and calling her by the name is something reserved only to either close people or those who wants to be an asshole on purpose x)

He surely would not call her Lady, and it could be not quite personal but just because he chronically dislikes Tarnished! But he also would not shorten the mental distance between them by using her name without honorfic. I think it is a neat detail!

6) He doesn't use the flasks to heal!

I actually only learned it from @slavonicrhapsody here ( x ) as I was not paying attention, but, yeah! Developers actually bothered to differentiate him by not having him use flasks, a thing of the Erdtree, that fits the lore!

7) His invasion location might be not coincidental!

Hornsent still invades us even if we helped him to complete his revenge upon Messmer because FromSLOP hates us and our desired bonds with the characters in case you haven't noticed that upon finding dead bodies of Ansbach and Thiollier lmao. But his invasion location is particularly quite close where Romina is, and in the place full of Scarlet Rot+! And Romina is herself form Belurat!

Perhaps, even though he called us a "comrade-in-arms", maybe meeting her made him turn upon us after all? Sure, he does say that after all, he doesn't wish Miquella's help but only vengeance upon everyone under Erdtree, but come on, dude, we are friends now!

But maybe meeting another Belurat survivor face to face after a long time knocked him back to his previous mindset harder, and he decided that "no, not a single person of Marika's world deserves to be spared, not even my comrade that helped me"! As opposed to just thinking up of a change of a heart on his own! It is one thing to keep the 'idea' of victims he is avenging in his mind as his compass, but another to meet one face-to-face, to see her living in the ruins now and latching onto twisted Eldrich God of endless death-and-rebirth that was not meant to be released similarly to Formless Mother! This is a far cry from Hornsent's religion and their worship of Divine Beasts from Heaven, Romina is "ruined" and so is the nature itself in some way, and it is all Messmer's and Marika's fault...

8) Another nameless character!

There are other characters in Elden Ring who abandon their names and instead take up titles that reflect their new purpose (like Dung Eater or Goldmask)! I can only assume that he forsaken his name, instead simply using title of his nation as one, after he lost his family. "The man I used to be died in the fires with them" kind of thing...

This is just an idea that I like, but I think if he was to ever find new relationship, he'd allow this person to refer him by the name or a nickname they pick for him! But he never wants to use his former name again. He might try to start a new life in the best case scenario, but never repair anything from the former one. Things once broken... you know.

9) You KNOW where his mapping skills come from!

He doesn't just also follow Miquella, but is an invaluable help to the team in picking and mapping his exact traces! He has been pursuing Messmer and his forces before in vengeance, and needless to mention that the size of Elden Ring's world is only scaled down for the sake of a videogame not making your brain AND computer explode x) He for sure needed a lot of spyoning, researching and seeking to both find his ways and not prematurely die.

I just think it works better if he lived comfortably in Belurat, a pretty high-class place, and HAD to develop both fighting and mapping skills as a response to his trauma and craving for revenge... I know there ARE military forces in Belurat too, but he is not exactly an armoured warrior, nor a Curseblade. And think about tragic drastic change of a character.... Miquella's charm sort of put those developed skills to a good use.

10) I am not sure what to think of his face data!

(From video by Zullie the Witch ( x )) I just had a flashback in black-and-white filter to the guy that passionately tried to prove us with the foam at his mouth that Fromsoft was super lazy, and honestly... all his arguments were super wrong, yet he never would mention something like THIS! You can absolutely tell that developers created one of these characters first, and then made the other one atop of these sliders instead of making a new one. 🙄

@slavonicrhapsody suggested that burnt marks on Hornsent's face could be from him surviving the purge, and I totally like this idea! Them making a unique character first with clear idea in mind and then remembering "ah, shoot, right we need a few annoying invader NPCs too" makes more sense! Especially since Potentates invaders are all generic, without variants! Basically, I think Hornsent holds priority in this kind of face data for obvious reasons, but, god, if they picked another type of beard, why not remove burnt marks? 🙄🙄 #FromSLOP

__________________

Tbh I already liked this character instantly upon first jumping into DLC! According to my friend @val-of-the-north people were thinking he was kind of an dick, which apparently absolutely went over my head as I didn't feel this way? Maybe it is because I am both familiar with distrusting other people as person with PTSD and not familiar with "being polite" as a concept as an autist lol dhsfh

I just found him intriguing, but his monologue after being summoned for Messmer scared me a little bit. The way he grows more obsessed with revenge, and doesn't intend to stop only at people who were actually guilty... Fun fact: I've summoned him on Messmer's arena by pure accident! XD I didn't know it could be done, I just randomly saw a summon sign while running from Messmer all over the place fhshfds Apparently it was a good call, because most people skipped this turn of character on their first play?

Also unpopular opinion, but I think him being "unlikeable" on some sort of objective level is good? I feel very strongly about the whole mindset of 'only feeling compassion for the 'good victim'' that lingers in society. Like... gooooood forbid if the victim becomes angry, or ends up hurting the world back, or otherwise develops the unlikeable traits, right? Only soft "likeable" victims that just weep and clearly never did anything wrong before OR after their trauma deserve compassion, right? (Slavonic I am using all my willpower to not link your post about Beebus rn fsdhfdhs) I think Hornsent developing negatively as a person is good and realistic. I praised the base game for how Dung Eater and Mohg were executed (not everyone who opposes the oppressive system or was a victim of it is automatically a good person), but Hornsent is not even a villain, and it is even better! He is "not good victim", and it doesn't mean that he doesn't deserve sympathy and recovery!

At the same time, really good character in his function, to show how revenge will only endlessly create more revenge infinitely! I think he deserves better than being automatically written down over what his mask item is given all the other context, and he definitely deserves all the "I can fix him" Tarnished bitches. 😔😔😔

#thank you for asking!! also gooooood sorry it took me so long I am awful with asks #elden ring #hornsent #vengeance-seeking hornsent #elden ring observation #elden ring reference #elden ring headcanons #ask replies

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meliciousmel13 · 1 month ago

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WOULD'VE COULD'VE SHOULD'VE PART 2

PT 1 PT 2

warnings: angst, fluff i promise you end up together. mentions of suicide and ed. if these things make you uncomfortable please do not read!

wc: 1,834

SYNOPSIS: the aftermaths. madison comes to your best friends house for forgiveness? (you blocked her number).

taglist: @guysimgay164, @madisonbeerssecretwife @bandanamatt

an: tell me if u like it or not cuz i don't!

the following days were normal. staying at home, re watching your old favorite movies and Allison occasionally coming over to spend time with you.

you totally forgot about madison now. yes. forgot about madison and everything else. except now you go to sleep to pass the time, now you wake up at midnight and watch gravity falls with a million useless thoughts in your head. now you stare at your ceiling watching the fan spin while thinking of what would’ve happened if you didn’t leave—if you didn’t lash out. what would’ve happened?

it’s been 4 days since new years which means it’s January, 4th. 96 hours. since your talk with her. your not one to count the days but she was stuck in your mind. if she wasn’t there then you would’ve been fine. if she didn’t approach you, you would’ve been having fun with your friends. but your stuck at home thinking about her again. you finally got her out of your head with allisons help but she ruined your peace of mind and your life.

madison was now outside allisons door. apprehensively waiting outside your best friends door. why? because she was genuinely scared that Allison would physically hurt her.

She rang the bell again, hearing shuffling behind the door and a head creeping out. it was allison, “the fuck are you doing here.” she opened the door wider, not as an invite in, but so madison could see the absolute disgust in her face.

“i just wanna ask you something.” she answered, fumbling with your her over-sized sweater. repeating the same thing over and over again in her head because she had to muster up any courageous nerve she had in her body to let a sound out. the nerve to be so desperate that she came to her exes, best friends house, who wanted to strangle her and leave her in a ditch.

“no—i wanna ask you something. how the hell did you find my house?” allison asked, and madison sighed, looking away from her face and playing with her braids. she wanted this to be done with so she could explain herself and then get you back and then happy happy. but the world doesn’t work like that and first she has to explain, to explain again.

“y/n forgot her sweater in your house once so she asked me to get it for her.”

“so she gave you the keys to my house without telling me? your lying.” allison said, and madison wanted to bash her head in a wall because why the hell. in the living hell. did she think this was a good idea.

“look, i can just go if you want i just—”

allison laughed. she laughed. “i’m joking, come on.” it wasn’t funny. but Madison chuckled to mask the fact that she was overanxious.

the house was filled with a unique scent of cinnamon and pumpkin spice. multiple things—trinkets on the small shelf in the living room. it’s grown since the last time she came. it was sort of welcoming. it seemed lived in.

“so what do you want?” allison said, with an under meaning tone. “wait wait. let me guess.” she hummed, as if thinking. she wasn’t thinking. she was taunting her. “you came to talk?” madison almost said ‘no shit’ out loud but she didn’t want to make the blond even more hostile to her. she was the one who had to deal with the mess known as you for 2 weeks. and she wasn’t about to forgive the person who almost made her best friend kill herself so easily.

madison couldn’t even get out a word before she was interrupted. “you know she loved you? you know she tried to kill herself over you? she tried to fucking slit her wrists, because you dumb fuck—your dumb. fucking. brain. decided, that breaking up with someone—over text! who you know! has suicidal thoughts, was a good fucking idea. i know you know because you were there when she attempted for the first time!” Allison yelled, and madison was culpable of it all. because allison said all the things you were too afraid to say. because you were too soft to say the things on your mind.

it was pure silence. until allison spoke again. “do you still love her?” and madison scoffed. of course she still loved you. she loved you so much it was overwhelming her every thought. you left your clothes at her house and she cried on every single one. she wore them so much that it didn’t even smell like you anymore.

“you were all that she talks about. literally, it was starting to get annoying. until you ruined it all and now she’s just constantly sad, because of you. so i want you to answer. do you still. fucking. love her? because if you loved her you’d have an answer for me when i ask, why in world would break up with someone you loved so much.” the blond asked—pointed out, madison couldn’t tell. but she knew that she didn’t know a future without you in it.

the yearning to wake up next to you was so intense she didn’t know how she survived 2 and a half months without going insane.

the words allison said went on for hours, so long she sat madison down, just to stand up and yell at her. madison took it. she took every insult and sat there with a headache so extreme she had to rub her temples to try to calm it down.

now the blond was in her kitchen drinking water and madison laid her head back on the couch and looking at the ceiling fan turn.

“hey, can you come over?” a small voice, raspy from all the yelling. madison turned her head just to hear your sweet velvety voice echo through the empty home. like honey. and she swore she’s never felt so at peace. so happy.

“she’s coming in 15 minutes so get your shit together.”

madison didn’t understand. why the blond would give her another chance if she hated her so.

“and if your wondering why. i’m doing it for my best friend, because i know although your a horrible person, that you make her happy.”

allison swore a lot.

15 minutes passed in a blur and the door was ringing already. and allison ignored it. “will you get the door?” madison asked, sitting up; overstrung.

“are you kidding? your apologizing not me.”

madison groans, so nervous her hands were sweaty. she opened the door to see you. you had you bag swung over your shoulder and your hair was messy—you looked gorgeous. and confused.

“what are you doing here?” you looked across madison’s shoulder to see allison on her phone over at the kitchen counter, you push her aside and walk over to the blond, “what is she doing here?”

“she wanted to apologize,” she shrugged her shoulders, “i’ll leave you two kids alone.” allison mumbled and went to her bedroom.

you sigh and turn around to face her. she had her hair done but her face was a mess. she had dark circles under her eyes and she was wearing your favorite sweater and baggy jeans. she looked beautiful.

“that’s mine.” you comment, dryly. pointing at the sweater she had on.

“you left it at my house.”

you nod, please let this suffering end. oh god this is painful.

“i missed you.” Madison said, bravely speaking up. and speaking to you. she was talking to you, and you weren’t hostile.

“you don’t miss me anymore?”

never mind. “what?” she frowned, clenching her sweater tightly, “past tense.” you point out, obnoxiously. and you hated yourself for being so damn awkward. you wished the ground would swallow you whole.

“i mean, i still miss you,” she rolled her eyes, “shut up smart ass.” she said, and you laughed—giggled, and madison laughed too. because you were contagious. whenever you were sad, everyone was sad. she let out a smile so big her cheeks started to hurt. a flower bloomed in your stomach and you couldn’t think anymore. all you could see was madison. you were crying now—sobbing. madison hugged you, and all you could feel was her. all you could smell was her perfume engulfing you everywhere and it made you cry harder.

you cried about everything. you cried because you were happy. you cried because you missed her too. you cried about the great depression which was the first two weeks she was gone. you cried because you hold it in anymore. you cried because you had filled a tub with water and a razor on the counter. you forgot to lock the door. you cried in her arms and you don’t remember the last time you could breathe.

words were coming out her mouth but your brain was translating it and turning it gibberish. ringing filled your ears. madison took your face in her hands and wiped your tears with her thumbs and kissed your forehead. you felt another pair of arms around you and you griped the stupid stupid sweaterin your hands they almost tore. because in that moment you wanted to be under her skin.

you stopped crying once she started to litter kisses up your jaw and neck. she held your hips so tightly and it felt so good. you whisper ‘madison’ out like a prayer—over and over again. until your mouth was filled with foam. she ‘shh’ed you and rubbed your hair and back. you swallow, and breathe in her neck. just breathed her in. your nose was filled with snot and her pretty sweater was wet because of you.

“m’ sorry bout’ your sweater.” you sniffle, and madison chuckled.

“it’s your sweater. your gonna be the one cleaning it.” she said, and you whine into her neck. “I’m kidding! god, don’t cry more. i hate seeing you cry.” especially if its my fault.

“are you guys done?” allison asked from behind you, eating her bag of peach rings and putting her phone down.

“why? does it bother you seeing people be happy?” you ask.

“you just cried.. are you really happy?” that question made you question yourself. were you really happy? it was confusing because you had absolutely no idea. you stood still and dug your head in madison’s shoulder. sighing.

the whole world turn buzzing and white. you toy with her sweater while deep in thought. allison looked at madison and madison looked at you. you and her were about the same height so she kissed you forehead and rubbed your back.

“anyways. are you guys OK now?” allison asked and madison shrugged.

“i think so?” she looked at you. arms warped around her waist and toying with her brown sweater. “yeah,” she answered. “we’re OK.” and you decided in that moment that you were happy.

#madison beer x you #madison elle beer #madison beer x reader #madison beer #madison beer x y/n

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jazzyblusnowflake · 10 months ago

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Love really bites

[a small vuzi snippet uwu yall liked the oil exchange with nuzi so you get this too >:3 ]

V and Uzi were sitting criss-cross in front of each other, feeling awkward but still looking determined- they wanted to try exchanging oil for V, since Uzi already did it often with N; but while they lean in slowly, V takes a peak and sees Uzi with visor eyes shut and looking stressed, her bottom jaw clattering softly for a moment as her body shakes lightly- V feels a slight pang of guilt and and scoffs "ugh" pushing Uzi back slightly "look I'm not doing this when you're so obviously terrified-"

"wh- i am NOT-!" she crossed her arms, looking away, a slight blush visible on her visor- "besides- don't you LIKE teasing and scaring me-

V rolls her eyes- also crossing her arms "uh- yeeeah. I like playing with my FOOD- not-!…..not you….." both of them pause momentarily at this small confession- "…. you're… more than that… I guess…" Uzi softly peaks at V as the other turns away blushing severely.

V suddenly shook her head "UGH never mind-!! this was stupid anyway-! ill just go find real food-"

"H-Hey wAIT!" before she knew what she was doing, Uzi had jumped and grabbed Vs arm as the taller drone stood up- so now they are both standing and staring at one another and Uzis hold on Vs arm with lots of blushing lines. Uzi looks away slightly "I uh…. we can try again if... if you want?…"

V's optics hallowed and she felt heat rising in her core- the fuck are these feelings ugh- no wonder Uzi hates that she's been programmed with them- "o-okay fine- since you insist- lets just get this over with then-"

Uzi lines their bodies so that they'd be standing and pressing against each other slightly and they both tried leaning in again slowly with closed eyes-

-when suddenly Uzi yelps as she is hoisted up on Vs arms "V! what the hell-!?"

V smirks up at her "sorry shorty, if I wanna get that oil I need gravity to slide it down your throat into mine-" she licks her fangs momentarily as her 5 real eyes pulsed slightly brighter with sparks which made Uzi blush even more- feeling slightly turned on at the display- she felt like V was gonna eat her alive and somehow she was fine with that-..............shOO BE GONE THOUGHTS-

Uzi shook her head "F- fine! ugh bite me-"

"be careful what you wish for~"

Uzi grumbles as V smirks wildly at her but instead of retorting with a snarky answer she lightly holds Vs cheeks and leans in again, her eyes fluttering closed as Vs smirk fades into a nervous frown and she swallows nervously as her hold tightens a little on the other drones back-

it starts with a peck and then they press their lips against each other more firmly, tilting their heads ever so slightly- and both of their frowns disappeared softly as they got more comfortable. Uzi's hands and fingers move from V's face and neck to threading and curling around in her hair and V purrs lightly at the small tugs.

slowly V pries open Uzis mouth a bit more with her tongue as she laps at the oil shared with her from against Uzis tongue and lips, making some run away drops slide past their mouths towards their chins.

V was surprised at how much more calming and energizing this felt; not particularly her style of work but…. she thinks that she could definitely get used to this… maybe... but then Uzi momentarily makes a small surprised sound that made V grip on her a little tighter subconsciously. Uzi presses slightly back against V's tongue with her own and her soft mewls fueled V in other ways-

Fuck her noises were almost as tasty as her oil, V thought momentarily before she caught herself-

They both part with a small gasp, swallowing whatever was left in their mouths and V had a few seconds to admire Uzi's light headed state from losing her oil before she blinked, slightly shaking herself out of it, blushing-

she put Uzi down a bit faster than intended but made sure she doesn't fall over- looking away and blushing, with Uzi doing the same- panting a little to get some chill air to her rapidly heating circuitry.

V thinks of what to say really cuz that was... certainly an experience she had.... "Uh yeah soo- thanks or whatever- that was.. definitely pretty boring to be honest, I can see why you'd like to do it all day with doodle boy over there-" she crosses her arms again looking away as she coughs lightly in her fist- blush lines being repressed but still visible-

Uzi blushes at the comment of her and N exchanging Oil- though she was hoping V didn't notice when they had parted Uzi was zoomed in on V's fangs and almost wanted her to ACTUALLY bite her like dear robo christ on a jet fueled scooter-

she ends up looking away too at V's words, blush painfully obvious "you're WELCOME for not letting you starve or whatever-! not like i care or anything hmph-"

they both stay like that looking away for a while… when Uzi notices V's tail wagging slightly behind her... oh.

"….b-but if you wanted any more… well uhh- you know where to find me I guess... ykNOW-! CUZ- it'd be a drag if we had to constantly deal with you over heating and stuff- y-yeah- that-!" she explains with a slight panic and waving her hands around

V looked at her with hollowed eyes and blushes as her tail twisted around her leg to keep it from wagging more- "um.. y-yeah totally sure- whatever- doubt ill NEED it tho- she slightly looks away, her finger playing with a strand of her own hair-

suddenly there was a sound of a loud clang and they both look at N jumping in the pod giddily with a loud "im baaack-!"

they both turn towards him looking gobsmacked with blushes and N had a moment of pausing and looking at Vs slightly ruffled hair and the two of them wiping the oil dripping from their mouth and chins-

N's expression turned into a deadpan one- "I leave for like…. 5 MINUTES… and you guys are making out without me??? >:( "

#murder drones #vuzi #violetviolence #implied nuzi?#nuzi #biscuitbites #violentbitingbiscuits #envuzi #nuvi #n x uzi x v #serial designation n #serial designation v #uzi doorman #these ship names are gonna kill me man smh #snowballflo #N wants kisses too #keebokun gets early access to my work sorry XD

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idontdomathlol · 3 months ago

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MY GRAVITY FALLS HYPERFIXATION/OBSESSION/PHASE IS COMING BACK WITH EVERYTHING HAPPENING RIGHT NOW AND IT MAKES ME WANNA SCREECH DANCE JUMP DO ANYTHING REALLY I FEEL SO HYPERACTIVE RIGHT NOW I HONESTLY DON'T KNOW IF IT'S BECAUSE OF THE CAFFEINE OR THE EMOTIONS...OR BOTH AND I JUST AAAANJDJDKSNSNDBFBS

AND IT DOESN'T HELP THAT EVERY TIME I OPEN TIKTOK MY FYP IS JUST FILLED WITH BILLFORD ANIMATIONS AND EDITS 😭😭😭😭😭😭 AGHHHH I JUST CAN'T NDNFJKSKNXBFBEBAJKZKFDWBJZKCKD

ALSO READING A BILLFORD FIC AND IT'S JUST SOOOOOOO GOOD LIKE LITERALLY THE BEST THING I'VE READ IN THE PAST 5 YEARS

OH AND I JUST FINISHED PLAYING 'SWOONING OVER STANS' (STANLEY'S ROUTE CUZ HE'S UNDERAPPRECIATED) AND IT WAS SO CUTE HEHEHHEHHEHE I WAS GIGGLING THE WHOLE TIME GUYS GO PLAY IT

#pls someone #send help #idk what to do with myself #im going crazy #NDHHDHDJKAKSMFMDKSPANRBVF #gravity falls #the book of bill #billford #bill cipher #stanford pines #gravity falls dipper #dipper and mabel #gravity falls mabel #dipper pines #stanley pines #hyperfixation #math rambles #swooning over stans

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jinxthequeergirl · 3 months ago

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Songs to consider with:

"The Ol switcharoo"

(I must feed the masses between chapters, so here feast! Also i hope yall see the vision. i hope this makes sense to my loyal TOS fans)

☆Velvet ring - "Benny loved her like he loved no one, the way she laughed and held a smoking gun the way she said what was done is done, and he is not the only one." (This will be referenced soon)

☆ Brother- "Oh brother, it's been a long, long time since I've seen my face in your eyes.."

☆Landslide - "Well, I've been afraid of changing cause I built my life around you, but time makes you bolder even children get older and I'm getting older too"

☆ Not strong enough - "Black hole opened in the kitchen, every clocks a different time it would only take the energy to fix it but I don't know why I am the way I am not strong enough to be your man"

☆ Wolfman- "say what you have to say, try not to cry this is just not what you wanted at this point in your life it's so hard to stay when all you wanna do is ride I totally get you man I was birdcage and you where meant to fly."

☆ This is the day- "this is the day your life will surely change this is the day when things fall into place"

☆ Something stupid - "then I go and spoil all by saying something stupid like I love you"

☆ I'm your man - "I'm sorry I'm the one you love,no one will ever love me like you again"

☆ once more to see you - "if you would let me give you pinky promise kisses, then I wouldn't have to scream your name atop of every rood in the city of my heart if I could see you once more to see you

☆the truth - "You are the truth I chose to bend myself around you are the reason I got started and the reason I put it down you are the truth I chose to bend myself around"

☆ Homesick -"I would leave if only I could find a reason I'm mean because I grew up in mewengland I got dreams but I can't make myself belive them spend the rest of my life with what could have been."

☆ Strawberry wine - "nothing defines a man like love that makes him soft...if I was empty space and you were a formless shape we'd fit."

☆ I know the End - "You had to go I know, I know I know out in the park and watch the sunset talking on a rusted swingset...I'm always pushing you away from me but you come back with gravity"

☆ Re:Re- "I waited for you I waited for you I had so many chances I could never go through...I lost so much time that I'm never getting back."

☆ we'll never have sex- "You look perfect, you look different. I don't wonder about your indifference."

#ford pines x reader #stan pines x reader #gravity falls x reader #Stanley pines x reader #stanford pines x reader

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ckret2 · 10 months ago

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Chapter 33 of human Bill is still the Mystery Shack's prisoner:

Stan takes Bill to get fillings from a creepy dentist in the back of a white van. And also they're handcuffed together the whole time.

Hijinks ensue.

Stan was startled from reading the paper by a shrill up-and-down whistle. Bill trotted into the kitchen, his voice a singsong lilt: "Incoming!"

Stan lowered the paper to glare at Bill. "Still doing that, are you?"

"Of course! I'd hate to scare you." Bill took the chair across the kitchen table from Stan. "Gooood morni—"

"Go away." Stan determinedly returned his attention to an article about the deathball arena construction.

Bill laughed. "You're funny. Anyway!" He noted Stan's plate of eggs and salsa was hidden behind his newspaper, and quietly slid the plate across the table as he spoke. "I need you to do me the teensy, tiniest little favor—"

"Nope."

"Take me to your dentist."

"No." Stan didn't even lower his newspaper. "The last time I took you anywhere, you almost made my niece cry, my brother left a Shopliftaholics Anonymous flier on my bed, and all I got out of it was a crummy ring. You wanna go somewhere, talk to Soos."

But, Bill noted, Stan was wearing said crummy ring. "Spend a day with that loser?" He rolled his eyes. "Please. I'd rather pry out my fingernails."

"You'd probably enjoy that, you freak."

"Not the point." Bill stuffed half an egg in his mouth. "Anyway, it has to be you. I need fillings, and Dr. Illing does them for free."

Stan squinted over the top of his newspaper. "How do you know about Dr. Illing?"

"What part of 'all-seeing eye' don't you get?"

Dr. Illing was a wandering dentist who spent the warm summer months in Gravity Falls. He squeezed his van and trailer into alleys between businesses in town, where he both lived and provided dental services until the police caught wind and chased him and his van out into the woods for a few days. On days with good weather, he'd pop open the back hatch of his nondescript trailer and set up a sign that read "COME INSIDE! FREE CANDY (for new patients)". He didn't attract many customers.

What really made him stand out was his unusual pay structure. He charged typical rates for regular teeth cleaning and dental maintenance; but if a patient had a cavity, he gave them a gold filling for free, and he paid them if he needed to pull their teeth.

Stan thought he was terrific. He hadn't had to pay for dental care in thirty years! Granted, he also wore dentures now; but hey, Dr. Illing had helped pay off Ford's mortgage, and at least the dentures were on the house.

Bill said, "You're the only one in the shack who knows all the places Illing might set up shop. Besides, he might be less jumpy in front of a stranger if an existing patient can vouch for it."

"I can see where you're coming from," Stan said. "But my answer is no, because I don't wanna."

Bill scowled in irritation. He sat back and ate another of Stan's eggs as he reconsidered his approach.

"Stanley—I'm a simple shape," he said. "A simple shape who's used to being coated peak to base in pure, lustrous, 24-karat gold. Having skin makes my skin crawl. I don't need any dental work done, these teeth are fine—but I'd really, really like just a bit of gold, somewhere on my body, so I feel a little more like myself in my final days."

Stan muttered, "You're trying to appeal to sympathy I don't have, Cipher."

"And then, once I'm dead," Bill went on, "I suppose I'll be leaving behind a corpse with a mouthful of free gold that whoever's disposing of my remains can do whatever they want with, do you catch my meaning Stanley?"

Stan lowered his newspaper just enough to grimace at Bill. "That's absolutely disgusting," he said. "But okay, I'm bribed!" He tried to fold the newspaper. "If you want your mouth to fund me and Ford's next year of globe-trotting, fine by me. Least you can do for messing up our summer."

"Mhm." Bill shoveled the last egg into his mouth while Stan was distracted by the paper and slid the plate over to Stan's side.

Stan slapped the paper down. "But we're not telling Ford about this. Agreed?" He offered a hand to shake.

"Agreed." Bill took Stan's hand, with the wrong hand—but before Stan could figure out what to do with that, Bill jerked his hand back like he'd been burned. "We'll take this to our graves."

"Or to your grave, anyway!" Stan laughed loudly, slapping the table.

Bill watched him with a forced smile. "Great. Deal made. Let's go get the magic friendship bracelets and—"

"Ohhh no," Stan said. "I'm not trusting a little bit of colored lace and some mystical hocus-pocus to keep you contained. If we're going anywhere, I'm making sure you can't escape."

"Okay," Bill said, a touch warily. "Fine. How?"

####

Soos took the handcuffs out of his toolbox, removed the key and stuck it in his pocket, and asked, "What side do you want it on?"

"Left," Stan said. "Gotta keep my punching arm free." Bill rolled his eyes.

Soos closed the cuffs on Stan's left wrist and Bill's right, then tightened Bill's half until it actually held his tiny wrist. "There."

"Ha!" Stan grinned at Bill. "Try escaping that!"

"I wasn't planning to escape."

"Sure, pull the other one." Stan pointed toward the door. "Now... to the car!"

####

They stared in dismay at Stan's car.

The El Diablo was a classic of the 1960s American automotive industry—and it was in terrific condition. (Notwithstanding the recent dents, scrapes, and keyed scratches in the paint reading "TRICK-OR-CHEATER!!") It came with the features standard to American cars of the time, like a steering wheel on the left, and a wide front bench that provided space for multiple passengers to sit to the driver's right side.

Bill was handcuffed to Stan's left side.

"Wow. You're stupid," Bill said.

"I'll break your smart mouth."

"What do I care, we're headed to the dentist anyway." He sighed. "Okay! Let's go inside and tell Questiony how stupid you are."

Stan did not want to tell Soos how stupid he was. "No! How do you know I didn't do this on purpose? Maybe having my right arm free is more important than—er... driving."

Bill considered that with pursed lips. After a pause, he ventured, "Do you want me to drive—?"

"No, no, nope, I am not letting you drive my car, under any circumstances, ever! Not a chance!"

"Then how are we doing this?"

####

Stan gripped the steering wheel with both hands, knuckles white and jaw clenched.

Bill was uneasily cuddled up against Stan's right side. The handcuff forced him to stretch his right arm across Stan's chest.

They were both wearing tank tops. Their bare upper arms were plastered together with sweat.

They were getting cricks in their necks from how far they were tilting their heads away from each other.

On the radio, a hit 50's soul song crooned romantically, "Oh, my sweet love... you're my lovely sweetie... and I never love you more, than when you're pressed to my side... as we go for a sweet loving car ride..." Neither of them could reach the radio dial without touching each other even more. They'd silently decided to pretend as hard as possible that they couldn't hear the radio.

"Welp," Stan said. "Out of all the times I've been handcuffed in a car, this is one of the worst."

####

They spotted Dr. Illing's "FREE CANDY" sign posted surreptitiously near the barrel and crate factory, and circled the block to park the car in front of a business that looked responsible enough to file a missing persons report if the car was still abandoned there by nightfall.

They tumbled out of the driver's side door with a maneuver that looked like a cross between a waltz and a mugging. Stan kicked the door shut. As they untangled themselves, in a surprisingly decent impression of Stan's voice, Bill said, "Gotta keep my punching arm free. How's that working out for you?"

"Bold words from a guy in punching range, you little—" As Stan finally separated himself from Bill and straightened out, he caught sight of Sheriff Blubs and Deputy Durland halfway up the block. "Oh, great. Cops. Exactly what you want around when you're doing something weird." Stan shook his head. "Well, as long as we go the other way and don't make eye contact—"

"Hi Darryl! Hi Edwin!" Bill stood on his toes and waved wildly. "Hey! Working hard or hardly working? Haha!"

"Oh, hey Goldie!" Durland waved back, and he and Blubs headed their direction. "How've you been, did you have a nice Summerween?"

"Ahh, I was stuck in the house—"

"Bill," Stan hissed. "Whaddaya think you're doing? Do you want them asking questions?"

"Hey," Durland said, "Why're you handcuffed to Stan?"

Bill turned toward Stan. He smiled at him. It was a smile that said I did not think this through.

"You need some help there?" Blubs asked. "I bet we've got a key that matches that handcuff model."

Stan bet Bill would love to accept that offer and go traipsing off with the cops. "Nope! That's fine! Thank you officers, but we're keeping the handcuffs on," Stan said. "Because." He paused. "They're necessary. For... uh... for me."

The cops and Bill watched him expectantly. Bill had that awful gleam in his eyes that he got when he saw an opportunity to make up a story.

"Because I'm old," Stan said. "It's to keep me from wandering into traffic."

Bill laughed, "Yep, that's true!" He jabbed Stan's shoulder with a finger (harder than necessary, he thought). "This guy's cataracts are so bad, sometimes he asks us if he's dying because all he a see is a white light in a dark tunnel! And the way his mind's going, woof—"

Stan growled, "All right you don't have to lay it on so thick—"

"—he's so addled it's like he's completely forgotten the last century of technology, he'll just walk right off the curb and expect the horse-drawn carriages to stop for him—"

"Hahaaa, but we won't bore you with my medical history!" Stan jerked on the handcuffs. "C'mon, Goldie, you're gonna make me late to my heart doctor appointment. You don't want my life on your hands, do you?"

Bill murmured, "Don't threaten me with a good time."

"Hold on," Blubs said. "You can't see? Didn't we just see you get out of the driver's seat of your car?"

Stan and Bill exchanged a look. Stan said, "Goldie's giving me directions."

"Oh! That makes sense," Durland said.

"All right," Blubs said, "We'll let you get to your doctor's appointment. You folks have a nice day."

As the cops left, Bill called after them, "You too! Hey, I'll see you guys at Rainbow Club!"

"See you there!" Durland turned to Blubs. "Y'know, I think Goldie's a step up from that seeing-eye bear."

Bill and Stan eyed each other. "All right, you're not bad at improv," Bill said. "I can respect a decent actor."

"You too," Stan said grudgingly. Bill looked at Stan like he expected a little more than that; but Stan kept his mouth shut. Bill didn't need the encouragement.

####

Dr. Illing's "FREE CANDY" sign leaned hopefully near a gap in the fence around an overgrown lot by the barrel factory. The gap was large enough that a reasonably limber human could duck through with little difficulty; however, Stan was old and Bill was still controlling his alien body like a rookie puppeteer learning the marionette, so they circled halfway around the lot until they found a gate in the fence to push open. They trod across scraggly grass, a row of dying mushrooms, and years-old litter to reach an unmarked white van hooked up to a camper trailer.

The back hatch of the trailer was flipped up to serve as a makeshift metal awning, and inside, a tall, spindly man was snoring atop a military cot in his underwear, using a white lab coat like a blanket. Stan cleared his throat loudly, and when that didn't disrupt the snoring, knocked on the side of the trailer. "Hey! Doc!"

Dr. Illing jolted upright with a yelp, seized an enormous wireless power drill off the floor to point at them like a gun, lowered it slightly as he registered he wasn't under attack, then realized he was nearly naked and yelped again. He tumbled off the cot, flailed his way to his feet, and turned his back to them as he jerked on his coat and buttoned it. "Just—just a second!" He got on one sock, couldn't find the other, and gave up, pulling on his sneakers with one bare foot. "Sorry, so sorry, I must've—just—nodded off for a second, there—"

"Maybe we should have made an appointment," Bill said wryly. "He looks busy." Stan snorted.

Dr. Illing turned around, smoothing out his rumpled lab coat. He was a jumpy, twitchy man with heavy circles under his eyes, short badly-cut hair, and a 5 o'clock shadow that had evolved into a 25 o'clock shadow. His gaze darted nervously between their faces. "Sorry. Hi, hello, can I help you? Are you maybe here for a tooth extraction, or—or perhaps wisdom teeth removal...?" His gaze caught on Stan's face, and he started. "Stan Pines! I haven't seen you since I pulled your last tooth ten years ago! What are you doing here?" His brows creased in worry. "You're—you're not mad about that, are you—?"

"What? No! The dentures are—fine. They're actually lower maintenance than teeth. Sort of. In a way," Stan said. "No, I'm here to refer a new customer." He pointed at Bill.

Bill made a gesture like he was tipping an invisible hat. "Hi there!"

"A customer?" Dr. Illing said blankly. "Oh—yes! Of course, hold on—" He pulled a hospital curtain over the front half of the trailer to hide a dinette covered in laundry and old magazines, lifted one end of the military cot and slid a step stool under the legs to keep it raised, and tugged the arm of a dental light down from the ceiling to aim it at the chair.

Stan said, "So, do I get some kind of referral bonus, or..."

"Oh—sure, sure. Have a, uhh..." Dr. Illing opened a heavy yellow and black tool bag, pulled out a battered cookie tin, withdrew a gold coin, and offered it to Stan. "One of these or something, here."

"Huh." Stan inspected it. No idea what currency it was, but a gold coin was arguably cooler than actual cash.

The dentist batted aside the hospital curtain to grab a tiny stool from the dinette, shook a damp towel off the seat, placed the stool beside the cot, and sat. "Okay!" He clapped his hands. "New customer! What can I do you for?"

Bill had been gazing in naked longing at the bag hiding the gold coins; but at the question, he looked up with a grin. "I'm here for fillings!"

"Ah! Wonderful. No charge for fillings, of course." He started rummaging through his tool bag for supplies. "Do you know which teeth need them?"

"Whichever you think would look best with some," Bill said. "Driller's choice!"

Dr. Illing stopped rummaging to give Bill a perplexed look. "I—sorry, come again?"

"I said I'm leaving it in your hands." Bill climbed into the trailer and put his free hand on Dr. Illing' s shoulder. "I'll be straight with you, Frankie: all that matters is that my teeth do not currently have any gold in them, and I want that to change by the time I leave. I'm not too picky about the details beyond that."

The dentist stared at Bill, then glanced at Stan for confirmation. Stan shrugged and nodded. "Oh-kay!" Dr. Illing wasn't quite smiling, but there was a strange, eager gleam in his eye. "Super! This'll be fun!" He gestured for Bill to sit on the cot. "Let's see what I have to work with."

He ushered Stan in, and pulled the trailer's hatch shut.

####

"Your teeth are amazing," Dr. Illing said, voice hushed with awe. "Perfectly white. Who's your usual dental hygienist? Did you just get these cleaned?"

"Nope," Bill said, forgetting for the third time that humans keep their teeth and their voice in the same hole and he shouldn't talk with the dentist's fingers in his mouth. Dr. Illing quickly pulled his hand back. "Just basic toothpaste, floss, and dish soap."

Dr. Illing shook his head in disbelief. "Well, they look amazing. And no wear at all, remarkable... Have you ever considered having any of these pulled? Do you mind if I take a few pictures?"

Stan shuddered as the dentist pulled out an old film camera and started snapping photos. "Yeesh. I forgot how creepy you are. Kinda glad I ran out of teeth."

Dr. Illing straightened up, snapped off the dental light, and sighed. "Well, I'm sorry to say that all your teeth are pristine. Not a hint of cavities—not even plaque. It'd be a shame to drill such pretty specimens. You're sure you don't want one pulled...?"

Stan grimaced, but Bill pursed his lips thoughtfully, as if he were considering a perfectly normal question. "As fun as that sounds, I said I want to leave with gold today, and the whole extraction-and-implantation process for gold teeth takes ages. Unless you happen to have a little secret magic trick to speed up the process?" Bill laughed, fixing Dr. Illing with a piercing stare.

Dr. Illing looked nervous. "Er—no."

"Then just the fillings. But who knows, maybe I'll feel naughty and be back in a couple of weeks." Bill laughed again. "Just pick a couple of your least favorite teeth to drill into!"

"Okay, suit yourself." Dr. Illing shrugged and fished around in an overstuffed cardboard box under the dinette table. "Let's gas you up and get drilling."

"You can skip the sedative," Bill said. "I don't mind a little pain. I prefer it, actually! It adds some zest to the experience..." He trailed off as he caught sight of the label on the gas canister Dr. Illing had pulled out. He pointed at a word, "I thought that additive was illegal."

Dr. Illing flinched guiltily. "Not in the state where I got it."

"Oh, buddy. I didn't realize I'd climbed into the party van!" Bill settled back on the cot, laced his hands behind his head, and got comfortable. "You know this stuff has something like sixty percent odds of causing hallucinations? Most people get either haloes around lights, or spiders. Go ahead, gas me—I wanna find out which I am."

####

In five minutes, Bill was overjoyed to report that the dental light had a spider halo. He did not explain what this meant.

Since Stan had typically been under anesthesia himself whenever Dr. Illing operated on him, this was the first time he'd had an opportunity to watch the dentist at work. Stan discovered that when Dr. Illing drilled into a tooth, he didn't suck the resultant dust up with one of those little dental vacuums with a plastic tube Stan was more familiar with. Instead, when a bit of dust had accumulated, he reached in with what looked like a cotton swab, wiped up the tooth dust, and scraped it off into a Petri dish; and only then did he use the vacuum to suck out any saliva and continue. Was he saving the leftover tooth dust? He was an even bigger creep than Stan had thought.

By all appearances, Bill didn't handle the gas well. It wasn't that it made him sick, or that he wasn't having the time of his life. It just made him completely forget how to operate a human body. When Dr. Illing told him to hold his mouth open, he also held his eyes open until they watered; and whenever he lost the battle to keep them open, he automatically shut his mouth too, often to his own peril as Dr. Illing shouted about the drill jostling. Within ten minutes, Dr. Illing had given up on convincing Bill to keep his mouth open and instead started giving him blink breaks when he could shut his mouth.

It helped some, but they couldn't do anything about the fact that Bill had fully forgotten he couldn't talk while getting dental work done, and kept up a regular chatter—during which he cheerfully mentioned he'd died recently, attempted to explain that the entire universe was actually an elaborate hologram projecting from the "true" third dimension, and asked Dr. Illing all about the cruise to Panama he'd recently stowed away on (which the dentist hadn't mentioned). During one blink break, as Bill closed each eye separately, Dr. Illing leaned toward Stan and muttered, "So... what's her story?"

Stan tilted his head toward the Petri dish. "What's with the tooth shavings?"

Dr. Illing considered that, slowly nodded, and got back to work.

####

After several hours, Dr. Illing wiped his brow and sighed in relief. "All right, that should do it. You've got fillings on five teeth now." Under his breath, he muttered, "It would have been two, if you hadn't kept talking while I was drilling."

Stan shook his head in amazement. "Doesn't that hurt?"

"Yes," Bill said. "I've never felt pain like that before. What a rush."

"If you do come back for a tooth extraction, I'm getting a dental gag to keep your jaws open." Dr. Illing finished pulling out the array of clamps and barriers around the filling sites and wearily dropped down onto his stool. "There. The rest of the sedative should wear off gradually over the next few hours. Usually I tell patients to wait three or four hours before eating to let the swelling go down, but..." He waved wearily. "You can do whatever you want."

"Admit it, you like having an enthusiastic patient!" Bill heaved himself off the military cot, forgot he couldn't float, and immediately collapsed to the floor.

"Whoa there—" Stan helped Bill back to his feet. The handcuffs prevented him from getting an arm around Bill's back, so instead he helped keep him upright by firmly squeezing his upper arm. "I don't know about you, but I'm eating as soon as we get home. You made me miss lunch—and for some reason, I feel like I barely had any breakfast." Bill inexplicably found this declaration hilarious. Probably the sedative, Stan reasoned.

Bill waved at the dentist as Stan tugged him out the trailer's hatch, chattering the whole way: "Thanks for the gold, the sock you were looking for is a bookmark in the March issue of Floss Girls, Atlantis is rising as we speak, you have less than seven years to prepare for the plague, tell the little lady I said hi! Byyye!"

Stan squeezed Bill's arm tighter and muttered, "Would you cut that out?

Bill stumbled across the uneven lot. "I made up the part about Atlantis."

"Okay just shut up and stop saying weird things."

Bill attempted to walk sideways all the way back to the car.

####

Stan gripped the steering wheel so tightly, his arms were trembling.

Bill was sprawled all over the front bench, the dashboard, the seatback, and Stan's shoulders.

On the radio, a hit 80's R&B song with a sexy saxophone was playing, "Babe, the sad things you've been through... I swear I'll make it up to you... If it takes a thousand years..."

Bill was singing at the top of his lungs directly in Stan's ear, "I'LL WIPE AWAY ALL YOUR TEARS, WOO!—sax solo!—BA DA-DA DA, BA DA-DAAA—"

Stan turned off his right hearing aid.

Every once in a while Bill attempted to grab the steering wheel and turn it in time to the song, like a kid playing in a toy car; Stan had given up telling him to stop and instead started just smacking his hand away every time he tried. After another smack, Bill draped his arm awkwardly over Stan again, and announced, "I can't feel my tongue at all! I bet I can chew it off!"

"Don't do that."

"The last time my mouth was this numb, my girlfriend had just gotten done with me, haha." Bill stuck his finger in his mouth to experimentally poke at his tongue. "I couldn' thee for the nex' hour from all the thporeth—"

"I swear if you don't shut up—"

Bill flopped his arm across Stan again. "I just realized I haven't gotten any action since I died. Wow. What's normal for humans, couple times a week until you start the slow lingering decline toward death?" He looked straight at Stan. Stan could feel that side of his face start to sweat. "This isn't a weird time to bring that up, is it?"

"Bill, if you say one more weird thing, you're riding home on the roof of the car."

Bill was quiet for three seconds. And then he started poking Stan's bicep. "Your arm's a lot meatier than Sixer's! What's your favorite flavor of cancer?"

####

Mabel asked, "Why are you on top of the car?"

Bill—eyes wide, hair disheveled, one arm hanging through the driver's door, sprawled out clinging to the roof like his life depended on it—replied, "I don't know, it's all a blur."

Stan opened the car door and jerked on the handcuffs. "All right, get off my car."

Bill shakily climbed off, lay in the dirt, and tried to catch his breath. "That was fun. We should do that more often."

"Not on your life."

Eyeing the handcuffs, Dipper said, "What were you doing, anyway?"

"Nothing!" Stan snapped. "Why? Who's asking? I wasn't sneaking the demon out to get a shady back-alley dental procedure!"

Mabel and Dipper stared up at him.

Stan pointed at them. "What are you doing?"

"Going camping," Dipper said, turning so Stan could see his stuffed backpack.

"Something's been stealing Pacifica's alpacas at night, so we're going on a stake-out," Mabel said. "They took Giorgio. It's personal now."

"We think aliens might be abducting them," Dipper said.

From the ground, Bill said, "It's not aliens."

"Ah, taking the law into your own hands. It builds character," Stan said approvingly. "You need firearms?"

They exchanged a glance. "We're good," Mabel said. "Grunkle Ford loaned us his freeze ray. It seems less lethal."

As the kids headed toward the road, Bill finally heaved himself up. "Well, that was fun!"

"No it wasn't," Stan said.

"Your opinion doesn't matter. Anyway—" He shook his cuffed wrist. "We're home, get me out of this thing. It makes you look like my ugly accessory and I want my hoodie."

"I elevate your whole look!" Stan protested. "And I don't have the key, it's with Soos."

Mabel turned back to shout at them, "Soos is out! He's got a dinner date with Melody!"

Stan grimaced. "Uh-oh."

Bill shrugged and said, with a confidence Stan didn't share, "He left the key behind."

####

"Oh man, sorry dudes," Soos said over the phone. "I totally forgot I still had it. Yeah, it's on my key ring. Is that, like, gonna be a problem, or...?"

"It's fine," Bill said, sitting atop Soos's office desk and leaning all the way across it to reach the phone. "Just pass it through the phone, we'll catch it."

"What?"

"Ignore him." Stan shoved Bill's face away. Bill gave him a dirty look as he straightened out his eyepatch, which he'd finally gotten to put on once they were home. Stan spun the desk chair away from Bill so he couldn't try to join the conversation again. "He's hopped up on psychedelic laughing gas. When are you gonna be back?"

"Uh..." Soos thought for several seconds. "Nooot for a while. Abuelita and I were talking about maybe kind of staying the night?"

"Well—pfff—can't you duck out and bring the key?"

"Uhhh. I would but, this is the first time Abuelita and I are having dinner with Melody's parents, and I'm really worried about impressing them parents, and the casserole's about to come out, and I think they might judge me if I leave, it would probably ruin dinner..."

"Okay, fine. What if we drive over to get the key?"

Far louder than necessary, Bill asked, "Stanley can I drive this time—!"

"Absolutely not!"

"Oh sure, that'd be fine," Soos said. "I'll give you directions, Melody's parents' place is in Portland. You got a pen?"

Stan frowned. "Portland."

"Yep."

"As in, outside the magic bubble trapping Bill in town."

Soos paused. "Oh, right."

Well, Stan wasn't about to make Soos look bad in front of his future in-laws. He'd never had in-laws, but he'd seen enough sitcoms to know how messy that could get. "Never mind. We'll figure something out. You kids enjoy dinner." Stan hung up the phone, sighed, and turned to face Bill. (Bill had plucked a figurine of a bulky robot in a cute girly pose off of Soos's desk, and was staring at it in wonder, like he'd never seen overpriced anime convention merch before.) "You got any other bright ideas?"

"We could still call Darryl and Edwin..."

"No way," Stan snapped. "I am not calling the cops for help! Never gonna happen. I'd rather wait for Soos to get back in the morning if I have to!"

"Oh would you." Bill laughed scornfully. "And what do you plan to do until then?"

####

They got TV dinners and grumpily watched Cash Wheel together.

####

(This entire chapter was just an extended excuse to annoy Stan and Bill as much as possible. But mostly Stan. Thanks for reading, and if you enjoyed I'd appreciate a comment or reblog!!)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #grunkle stan #stanley pines #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher #(please pretend the first song sounds like Unchained Melody)#(please pretend the second song sounds like Careless Whisper)

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fairyvearths · 2 years ago

Text

3 times you try (and fail) to kiss luffy and the 1 time he kisses you

FANDOM: one piece WORD COUNT: 5, 300+ PAIRING: monkey d. luffy x reader WARNINGS: none, for the most part. a hint of jealousy, but it’s very small.

NOTE: hello @hawkix, i am your secret santa for the @onepiece-blorboexchange. i hope this piece is to your liking. merry christmas, and happy holidays 🎄🎁 also cross-posted on archive

one

“You’re best friends with Luffy, right?”

Zoro is sleeping—or at least, trying to. With how rambunctious the crew is right now, and the way the ship rocks on the waves, it’s pretty easy to assume that the man is still awake. That, and, you had seen his brows flinch slightly when your shadow fell over his face.

But still, he pretends.

Fine.

You kick him.

Zoro catches your ankle before you make contact with his leg. “Oi,” he snaps.

You flail for balance, a squeal sticking in your throat as your centre of gravity tilts.

Zoro pulls you as you fall and you crash on your side.

“Ow,” you say, mostly for show, because your arm had cushioned your landing and you’ve been through much worse than this. Zoro knows it too.

“Quit being a baby,” he grouses, shifting himself up higher on the railing now that he’s officially awoken from his nap. “The Hell were you thinking, trying to kick me?”

You roll onto your back. “You were ignoring me.”

“I was trying to sleep.”

“But you weren’t, yet.”

“Yeah—yet. I was getting there.”

“So you just ignored me?” You bat your arm in his general direction. “What if it was an emergency?”

“It wasn’t.”

“You don’t care about me.”

“The Hell?”

You giggle because he didn’t say, ‘Yeah, of course I don’t’ and that’s a win if you’ve ever encountered one. “You don’t,” you sigh, carpeting the floor with your faux misery. “I could die and you woul—”

“Shut up.” Zoro actually jabs you in the arm with the hilt of one of his swords.

“Hey!”

“You didn’t hit your head when you fell, right?”

You scoff, mirthful shock coating your words, “Are you calling me stupid?”

“No—I mean, I made sure you didn’t hit your head when you fell.”

It takes a while for his words to click in your brain, and when it does—Oh. You turn your head to look at him, cheek pressing into the hardwood floors. “Why can’t you just say you care about me like someone who isn’t emotionally constipated?”

Zoro scowls, crossing his arms across his chest and looking away like he’s a four-year-old child throwing a tantrum. “Is this what you woke me up for?” he grumbles.

You want to keep ribbing him, but you understand that Zoro is being defensive, so you take his cue and reroute the conversation. “No, actually—I wanted to ask you a favour.”

He turns back, scepticism raising his brows. “About Luffy?”

You open your mouth to ask how he knows, but you realise you had asked about your captain when you approached Zoro. “So you did ignore me,” you gasp, slightly maybe a lot offended.

“Yeah, of course I did—I was trying to sleep!” he shoots back.

It’s your turn to cross your arms over your chest and cast your gaze to the sky. “I can’t believe you.”

Zoro clicks his tongue before tapping your leg lightly with his foot. “What’d you need help with?”

“Nah,” you push out with a breath, “I don’t want your help anymore.”

“Fine,” Zoro says, yawning. “Go somewhere else—I’m trying to sleep.”

You slap his knee. “Oi.”

“What do you need, then?”

“I wanna kiss Luffy.”

A beat. Then, “And you’re telling me, because?”

“Because, Zoro,” you say, turning to face him again, “last time I tried, you called his attention to a Sea King and ran off with him.”

Zoro snorts. “So, go kiss him now.” He jerks his chin towards the deck where he, Usopp and Chopper are gathered. “He’s not busy.”

“It’s not that simple,” you intone, stretching out your words. “I can’t just do it out of nowhere, it has to be proper and—”

“Oh, kill me now,” Zoro whispers in exasperation. He deflects another one of your attacks, knocking your hand out of its trajectory. “If you wanted romantic, you should’ve gone to the Cook.”

“But he’s your best friend,” you reiterate. “You know him better than anyone here.”

Zoro sighs, long-sufferingly. “Have you tried talking to him?” he asks, tired.

“No?” Bewilderment laces your tone, falling in a heavy heap on the ground. “I’m not telling Luffy I want to kiss him.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s weird; I can’t just tell him, I just gotta do it.”

“Then do it—He’s right there.” Once again, he gestures towards your captain, as if you’re not already hyperaware of his presence.

“Not like that,” you hiss.

“Oh, my God,” Zoro grumbles. “Stop being difficult.”

“I’m not! I just need to you to help me—”

“I’m trying! You keep dismissing my solutions. It’s so easy, here, look—Luffy!”

Your heart jumps into your throat as Zoro hollers, and you leap forward to cover his mouth. You misjudge the distance, punching him in the cheek instead.

“What the fuck?” Zoro rears his head back, slapping your hand away.

“Shit, I’m so sorry—” You retract your offending limb, covering your mouth in shock. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, didn’t hurt,” he says, and you can tell he’s not just saying it to make you feel better. The man’s been through so much worse, and you both know it. “Just, what the fuck, though?”

“I didn’t mean to,” you lament. “I just—You yelled, and I was trying to stop you, but I—”

“What’s up?”

You didn’t scream.

You didn’t.

You just, got startled. Because it was Luffy. And he came out of nowhere. And if Zoro or Luffy said you screamed… well.

They don’t know what they’re talking about.

You whip around, heart hammering in your throat because you were just talking about kissing Luffy, and now the man is here, squatting in front of you, and you don’t know how much he may have overheard. “Nothing!” Your voice comes out high and nervous.

“Fucking—” Zoro sighs, nudging you towards Luffy with his calf because in your scramble to shut Zoro up, you’d landed on his leg. “Can you just ki—”

You’re more successful this time, shouting over the top of his words and slapping a hand to his mouth. “What the Hell is wrong with y—Ow!” You wrench your hand away at a sharp sting on your palm. “Did you just bite me?” At Zoro’s deadpan stare, you furrow your brows. “What kinda feral—?”

Behind you, Luffy laughs; so loud and carefree that your heart stutters in your chest.

You think you might pass out, but you turn to look at your captain because his joy is always a sight to behold.

“Wow,” Zoro muses aloud, “you are down ba—”

You jerk your elbow into Zoro’s stomach, cutting off his words. “Shut up!” you hiss.

“What were you guys talking about?” Luffy asks again when he settles down.

“Nothing,” you repeat, voice calmer.

Zoro rolls his eyes. “Really?”

“Except for the fact that Zoro is being a butthead,” you say pointedly.

“Butthead?” the butthead echoes.

“Ah.” Luffy nods sagely. “That sounds like Zoro.”

“Oi!”

You giggle, watching as Zoro grabs a sword and jolts the hilt towards Luffy’s face.

Luffy grabs the hilt to deflect it, but when Zoro pulls his weapon back, Luffy careens forward.

“Ah!” The shout is more from surprise than anything, Luffy’s knee colliding with your shin as he practically falls on you.

“Shit,” Zoro breathes.

“Oh.” Luffy scrambles himself off your leg. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you dismiss his concern. “That actually didn’t hurt, I’m fine.” You’re hefting yourself up with your elbows, expecting Luffy to move out of your way.

But he doesn’t.

And now you’ve almost pushed yourself up against his chest.

And he’s looking at you so earnestly your cheeks are flushing. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he presses.

You nod, throat thick. Body warm. Your eyes dart down to his lips. The urge to kiss him rises tenfold. Maybe you could just do it. No fancy situation, no set up. Just… this. With him hovering over you because it just happened that way. Staring at you with concern swimming in his pupils.

“So, can I go now?” Zoro pipes up from behind you.

You startle, bumping a shoulder into Luffy’s chin.

Luffy recoils, effectively severing the moment.

“I am so sorry!” you gasp, reaching out to cradle his head. “Oh God, are you okay?”

Luffy nods in your hands, chuckling lightly. “’M fine.”

“Zoro, you can’t just do that!” you hiss at him.

“I have been here the whole time,” he deadpans. “But it seems I’ve done my job, so I’m gonna g—”

Luffy tilts his head. “What job?”

“Nothing!” you yell before Zoro can answer, letting go of Luffy like you’ve been burnt. “Nothing.” You slide out from between the two of them and clamber to your feet. “You take your nap,” you say to Zoro, “and you can go back to—” You signal towards Usopp and Chopper, “playing, I don’t know.” You smile at Luffy even though you don’t really feel it. “I’ll go.” You depart before the two of them can say anything to you.

“You were too much of a butthead,” Luffy says in a low enough voice that you know he’s not talking to you.

There’s the sound of something hard hitting something fleshy.

“How’s this my fault?” Zoro retaliates.

You duck into your room before you can hear if their banter escalates to sparring.

two

There’s a stabbing pain in your side, but you ignore it in favour of running across the rubble—or at least, try to. The sharp ache is all encompassing, and you’re pretty sure you’re bleeding out as well.

But right now, it’s of no matter.

What is of matter, though, is the fact that Luffy is on the other side of this debris, and you need to get to him.

You crest the peak and start down the slope towards the ground, towards your captain wobbling on his feet, bruised and ruffled. “Luffy!”

He turns when you call out to him, face lighting up when he catches sight of you.

You’re practically tripping over your own feet to make it over to him, teeth gritting at the jabs that lance through your ribs.

He crashes into your body when you enter his personal space, your legs faltering under the unanticipated weight.

You catch yourself on your knees, holding in the gasp that wants to escape because him jarring into you didn’t help. You wrap your arms beneath his shoulders to keep him up. “Hey,” you breathe out, chest releasing some of the air that had been trapped in there at the thought of your captain in peril. “You okay?” You’re frantically pawing at his face, thumbs swiping at the blood and cuts.

Luffy nods, a soft smile pulling at his lips. “’M good,” he manages to answer around you pulling on his skin. “Are you?”

“Yeah.” Satisfied with your inspection—his wounds are shallow and will heal up at a rate that still shocks you—relief pools into your stomach. “We’re good, we won.”

He furrows his brows, eyes scanning your face before they rest down your body. “You’re hurt,” he states.

“It’s fine.” You shake your head, hiding a wince because, yeah, it does hurt, but you don’t want him to fuss over you when he looks like this. “I’ll be fine.”

“You’re bleeding,” he reiterates, cupping a hand over your wound.

“Ah!” You shrink away from his touch, unbalancing both you and him because he had been essentially leaning on you for support.

Luffy circles his arm around you, righting you before you topple backwards, taking him down too. “You’re hurt,” he repeats, voice soft.

You stare at him, face so close to yours that you can see his eyelashes. You’re so pressed up against him that you feel him breathing on your chest, every rise and fall in tandem with yours.

His heart is beating quickly—or maybe it’s yours.

It probably is yours.

He’s so close to you, and your brain feels like mush; lightheaded and echoey. Your ears thunder with the sound of your own heart. Your breaths catch in your chest.

“We should get you to Chopper,” he murmurs. He looks behind you, over the debris, where the rest of the crew should be.

A part of your brain knows it’s urgent, but the other part can’t stop staring at his lips as he speaks. “Luffy,” you utter.

He snaps his focus back to you, gaze darting between your eyes. “What?”

You shift your weight onto his, and he takes it easily, tightening his arm around you. You can feel your breath blow back on your face with how hard you’re breathing onto Luffy’s. Your head fills more and more with cotton as you careen towards his lips.

You black out before you make it.

three

After the fiasco of employing Zoro’s assistance, you decide that he actually isn’t much help at all. So the next best thing is to go to Robin. Because she’s clever, and smart.

You sit her down in the quiet of the aquarium and tell her about your dilemma, and about Zoro’s ridiculous suggestion of ‘just asking Luffy,’ and how nothing you’ve tried has worked.

She laughs at the end of your recollection, a soft thing that she hides in her palm before standing up. “Come with me,” she says.

You follow her, recognising the walk to the library as you’re halfway there.

She settles you down at the table before disappearing between some shelves, to, presumably, find a book. When she returns, a light in her eye, you know she’s found something good. “It’s Christmas soon,” she says as though it’s a suggestion.

“Okay?” you ask, bemused.

She chuckles softly, rifling through the pages to find the spread she wants and places it on the desk, tilting it so it’s upright for you to read. “Mistletoe.”

You look down at the page, a drawing of said plant on display. “Uh-huh.”

“It’s tradition,” she begins, “for people to kiss when they’re caught under a mistletoe together.”

You glance up at her. “Oh. So, we just have to get some mistletoe,” you say. The plan sounds easy enough.

But.

“Where, exactly, are we gonna get some mistletoe?”

“Next time we stop by an island, I suppose,” she muses quietly. “It’s a Christmas tradition,” she elaborates, “so at this time of year, people will be selling these everywhere.”

“Great—thank you.” You already feel much better about her advice than you did with Zoro’s. You lift the page between your fingers, pulling the paper.

Arms sprout from the table, clutching at your wrist.

“What,” Robin says, a harsh lilt to her tone, “are you doing?”

“I just need to know what it looks like.”

“You’ve seen what it looks like,” she continues in the same voice.

“Yeah, but I’m not gonna remember it once we get to an island.”

“So, you decide to vandalise my book?”

“I’m not vandali—Ow, ow!” You let go of the page as she tightens her hold around you. “Okay, I made a mistake,” you cry.

The arms disappear. “I’ll buy it for you,” she resumes the conversation like nothing happened. “You can find some place to put it afterwards.”

You feel like you got whiplashed. “Okay,” you whisper, confused. “Thank you?”

It’s another three days before the ship docks at a small island, and Robin comes back with two sprigs of mistletoe. She hands one to you, keeping the other ‘just in case.’ You don’t really know what that means, but at this point, you know well enough to just leave her and her property alone.

“Where’s a good place to put this?” you ask, dangling the twig between your fingers.

“Where would Luffy spend most of his time?”

You sigh.

You burst into the kitchen, having checked through the windows to make sure it was devoid of your captain first.

Sanji looks up at your sudden entrance, scraping carrots into a bowl. “Dinner’s almost ready,” he informs you absently. He returns to cutting the vegetables. “Probably start cooking in ten minutes.”

“That’s not why I’m here.”

That piques his interest, the blond looking up again. “What’s up?” he asks, attention now more evenly split between the food prep and you.

“I…” You glance out the windows, as though talking about Luffy would summon him. “Need your help with something.”

“Mine?”

“Yeah.” You approach the counter where he’s working, sitting on a stool opposite him. “I need to put this,” you lift the sprig higher so he can see, “somewhere in here.”

Sanji stares at the plant. “Mistletoe?”

“Yes, see.” You tell him about Robin’s ingenious plan to help you kiss Luffy. And how Sanji knows the kitchen better than anyone, and knows where Luffy lingers the most.

Sanji lets out a sharp breath of amusement through his nose. “Okay.”

“Great! Just—not now. Christmas is in five days, so—”

“I got it,” Sanji says. “Keep it safe ‘til then.”

“Exactly, thank you!”

The following week is busy; the crew gathering to decorate the Sunny, and making quick stops onshore to find gifts for one another. Between draping garland and wrapping presents, you find yourself migrating to the kitchen a lot.

It’s not that you don’t trust Sanji.

But.

This is really important to you, and you don’t know if he’ll prioritise it the same. You make sure the mistletoe is still alive and fresh. Hidden somewhere out of sight and not easily disposed of if someone else were to help out in the kitchen. Most days, you volunteer yourself to assist, just so you know another crew member won’t find it, and then no embarrassing explanation would have to ensue.

It’s easier that way.

“Good morning,” Sanji greets, already anticipating your arrival with a cup of tea.

“Hey.” You take a sip before putting the beverage down. “Is—”

“Yep,” he says, already taking out the tin from the cupboard and sliding it across the countertop to you. “Same place as it was last night, when you checked. And the time before that, and before that too. And—”

“Alright,” you snap, no heat in your tone. “I’m just…” You shrug, at a loss for why you feel so obsessive over a piece of tree.

“Nervous?”

You sigh. “Yeah.”

Sanji pushes the tea over to your hands, and you smile at him. “How about, no more looking at it today.”

You frown. “I don’t think that’s gonna help.”

“Did looking at it help?”

You close the lid and pass it back to him. “No,” you admit quietly.

“I don’t think you’re stressed about the mistletoe disappearing,” Sanji says, voice incredibly soft as he addresses you.

You hum, tapping your fingers on the sides of the cup. “I just… want it to work.” Because if it doesn’t…

If it doesn’t…

That’s not something you want to think about.

“It will.” And he says it with so much certainty that for a second, you believe it too.

You don’t check up on the mistletoe for the rest of the day, but you do still help out in the kitchen.

You’re staring at the counter, where you know the mistletoe is. You know it’s there. You saw it this morning. Sanji let you put it back in there before closing the cupboard and declaring that place off-limits to you. And no one else had come in, other than to eat, and that was over here by the dining tables, not over there.

There’s still a gnawing feeling in your stomach, but you haven’t seen it. So, what if? What if someone came through, looking for something else, and in their search, saw it and took it?

“Are you okay?”

You blink back to the present, snippets of conversation tuning back into focus like a radio. Right. Dinner with the crew. Everyone’s here, eating and having fun.

Sanji is peering at you from across the table, waiting for your answer.

“Yeah,” you say. “Just—distracted.” You look back down to your plate, surprised to find that nothing’s been taken from it.

“Do you want to check it?”

You purse your lips in thought. It would help.

But.

“No.” You shake your head. “I’ve already gone most of the day, right?” you say. “No point caving now.”

“If you’re sure,” Sanji relents. At your nod, he sighs. “Can you just eat something?”

You stick your spoon into the rice.

A chicken drumstick is placed on your plate, and when you follow the hand attached to it, you realise it belongs to Luffy, sitting on the far end of the table.

“You look sad,” he calls across, retracting his arm.

“I’m fine,” you dismiss his concern, turning back to your food. “Thanks.”

The rest of the crew watches, astounded at their captain’s generosity, and your lack of response.

When Christmas finally arrives, you’re not sure how you feel. Yes, it’s Christmas, so you’re excited. But that means putting up the mistletoe and finally bringing your plan to fruition. And that part, you’re more reluctant about.

You’re the first one in the kitchen aside from Sanji, and he looks up, smiling at you.

“Door,” he says.

You turn, watching it close. “What?”

“The mistletoe,” he reiterates. “Put it up last night.”

“Oh!” With the new information, you tilt your head back. It sways gently from the door’s motions. “That’s the best place for it?”

“Luffy comes and goes upwards of twenty times a day.” Sanji sounds sure of himself. “If there’s any place that he frequents a lot, it’s that door.”

“Thanks, Sanji,” you say, beelining for the tea he’s left for you on the counter.

Sanji starts to crack eggs into a mixing bowl, and you stare at your drink. “How are you feeling?”

You shrug. “Still nervous, but… not much else I can do about it.”

“Just.” He takes a whisk from the drawer. “Don’t think about it too much.”

Scoffing, you take a sip of your tea. “I really don’t think there’s anything else for me to think about, right now.”

“What do you want for breakfast?” he asks.

“Whatever you’re making,” you say absently, “I don’t mind.” You’re two-thirds of the way through your drink when you speak again. “What if it doesn’t go right?”

“How?”

“Like, what if…?” You swallow something thick. “What if he doesn’t want to kiss me? Then I’ve just—”

Luffy crashes through the door, startling you out of your conversation with Sanji. He scans the kitchen, face lighting up when he makes eye contact with you, bounding over. “What are you doing in here?” he asks, plopping himself down in the chair you’re standing next to.

“Nothing,” you deflect, because you don’t really want to tell him that you were lamenting to Sanji about whether he’d kiss you or not. But your answer is suspicious too, so you retract your earlier statement with what you hope is a carefree shrug.

(It’s not.)

“I was helping out with food and stuff.” You turn to the eggs already beaten laid out in front of Sanji. Shit.

Luffy hums, a slight dejection to the note. “Come outside,” he says instead.

You pause, trying to think of an excuse. “But we gotta make breakfast, then there’s the big Christmas dinn—”

“But I miss you,” he says, frowning.

Oh.

“We donʼt hang out much, anymore.”

You blink, gulping your dangerously loud heart back into your chest. It’s suddenly warm in the kitchen even though the ovens and stoves are off. “Okay,” you croak.

Luffy beams at you, and your breath sweeps away. He grabs your hand to lead you out, and your palm feels clammy in his.

As you’re leaving, Sanji clears his throat.

Luffy stops, turning around. “What?” he asks.

You turn too, a murderous glare pointed at the blond. Shut the fuck up, you will towards him.

Sanji flickers his gaze over your heads.

“What?” Luffy repeats.

“Nothing,” you say quickly, trying to step further onto the deck to steer him out of the kitchen.

Luffy purses his lips, standing his ground. He’s always been stronger than you, so your attempts to move him are rendered futile because he’s not cooperating. “No, I wanna know,” he presses. There’s a pout to his lips, and you can’t help but think he looks cute like this.

“It’s just.” You swallow thickly, tilting your head up to look at the top of the door frame.

Luffy follows your eyes, zeroing in on the lone green tendril hanging off the door. “Ah,” he says.

You watch him, trepidation drying your tongue.

“Why’d Sanji put food in such a weird place?”

“What?”

He shoots his arm towards it, clutching the plant in his hands—leaves and all.

And shoves it in his mouth.

“No!”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Sanji yells, vaulting over the counter. He grabs Luffy by the back of the neck. “Spit it out!”

“Luffy, that was mistletoe,” you say when you’ve gotten over the initial shock. Your hands are hovering over him, wanting to help but not sure how because Sanji is already there, and you’d only be in the way.

“So?” he manages to say around Sanji trying to pull his mouth open.

“Mistletoe is poisonous, you dumbass!” Sanji growls, realising that it’s already been swallowed. “We need to get you to Chopper.”

“But I feel fine,” Luffy protests.

You usher your captain out the door, heartbeat reverberating loudly in your throat. “No, please just—C’mon.” You walk around Luffy when you’ve exited the kitchen, pulling on his hand to lead him to the infirmary. You look at Sanji over Luffy’s shoulder. “You go…” You gesture back inside the kitchen. “I got this.”

“You sure?” Sanji asks.

You nod. “There’s a lot to do for today.” You turn back around, glancing at the rest of the deck. “Chopper!” you call out to him when you see the reindeer with Usopp and Nami.

Chopper darts his head up, looking at you. “Yeah?”

“We need you in here!” you say, pointing your thumb back towards the door of the doctor’s office.

There’s clambering as Chopper disregards his prior activities—unwrapping presents, judging by the colours on the floor—to run over. “What happened?” he asks when he’s closer.

“I ate something,” Luffy says when you open the door. “Sanji said it was poisonous.”

“Mistletoe,” you interject before Chopper can panic too much. You stand to the side, letting them in first.

“Mistletoe?” Chopper repeats.

“It’s… a long story.”

plus one

Chopper releases Luffy from the infirmary after coming to the conclusion that the captain’s run-in with Magellan has heightened his tolerance for poison. So eating a twig of mistletoe will do nothing more to him than upset his stomach, which should pass on its own.

After the little doctor confirms this, you breathe out a sigh of relief.

Luffy turns to you; a smile on his face, a comment on his tongue of how you’d been so worried over nothing, but—

You’re exiting the room, door shutting behind you.

“Hey!” Luffy scrambles off the bed, sidestepping Chopper with a quick ‘Thanks!’ before dashing outside to find you.

You’re faster than anticipated, halfway to the dorms.

But Luffy has abilities that you don’t, so he stretches his arms, hooking his palm around the mast to slingshot himself forward, landing in front of you with a grunt.

“Fuck!” you hiss, jumping backwards, eyes wild with his sudden appearance.

“Sorry!” Luffy is quick to placate you.

“What the Hell?”

“Didn’t mean to scare you—What’s wrong?” He interrupts himself with the question because thatʼs more important right now, and knowing how the two of you like to banter, you’d gloss over how you’re feeling in order to keep teasing him about startling you.

“What?”

“There’s something wrong with you,” Luffy says, because he hasn’t been seeing much of you this past week, and he thought that maybe you just wanted time for yourself to recharge, but you were always in the kitchen with Sanji, instead of hanging out with him like you usually did, and that—

He pushes that aside.

Not important right now.

“There’s nothing wrong with me,” you say quietly.

“Yes, there is.” He’s insistent, knowing that whatever it is is bothering you.

“It’s just… I wanted to—” You sigh. “Nothing,” you dismiss. Then, “It’s stupid.”

“What’s stupid about it?”

You pause, thinking about his question. “I… don’t know.”

“So, it can’t be stupid.”

Your lips quirk up, a brief thing that lights up your face for a millisecond, but Luffy watches, enamoured, because he hasn’t seen it in so long.

“It’s…” You shrug, hesitation dancing across your features. You stare up at him, and he really wishes your eyes weren’t apprehensive.

“Tell me,” he presses gently.

“I want to kiss you.”

“Oh.” He suddenly finds it hard to breathe. “And that makes you upset?” The thought of that squeezes his chest.

“No, no! That doesn’t make me upset, it’s just, I’ve been trying to kiss you for the past month, but things would happen, and I couldn’t do it, and then we came up with this plan with the mistletoe, but you—”

He stretches his arms, wrapping them around your waist to pull you towards him. He leans down and seals his mouth over yours, effectively silencing you.

You gasp in surprise, but the noise is swallowed up, lips chasing after yours. He’s squeezing you to him, waist pulled in so close he can barely think straight.

You wrap your arms around his neck, urging him closer, and Luffy tilts his head, fingers breaching the hem of your shirt to caress your skin. You whimper, so delightfully desperate that Luffy pushes against you, tongue swiping across your bottom lip.

He loves the noise—the neediness lacing your tone that he’s only ever heard you use towards him. Every time he’s been unimaginably close to you, he’d notice the way you’d stare at him, full of want and unadulterated longing that it fogs his brain and tightens his heart down to his stomach.

And how you’d whisper his name, like you did back in the forest, even though you were bleeding out. You were staring at his lips and he thought you were going to kiss him, and he realised that in that moment, he wanted to, too. And he would’ve. If you hadn’t passed out immediately after.

Then after he’d taken you to Chopper and you recovered, you pulled away, secluding yourself in the kitchen with Sanji, pretty much all day.

But, now.

Luffy gets to kiss you. He giggles into your mouth, something light bubbling away in his chest.

You pull away from him, breathing heavily. “Why did you do that?”

“Because you wanted to.”

“But did you want to?”

He thinks about you; his crewmate, nakama, friend. Someone he trusts with his life. Had gone through the biggest ups and downs of his life with you. Then he thinks about kissing you, of how many times he’d wanted to in the past, even before the forest. “Yeah.” And because he can, he pulls you in for another kiss, and he feels you smiling against his lips.

When you part this time, it’s his turn to ask a question. “Why didn’t you just kiss me when you wanted to?”

“Because it’s weird,” you say as if it’s common sense. “You can’t just kiss a friend out of nowhere.”

“But we’re not just friends. We’re… different.”

“Different?” you echo.

“The way I feel about you, and us, it’s different from how I feel about the others. It’s just different with you.”

You swallow and Luffy watches your throat move. “So, you’re saying, I could have kissed you, at any time, in the past few months, and you would have been okay with it?”

Luffy nods. “Yep.”

You purse your lips. “Oh, dear Lord,” you mutter under your breath, “Zoro was right.”

“About what?”

“He said I should’ve just asked you—I thought he was being daft.”

Luffy laughs, and you smile up at him, drinking in the noise. “You’re silly.”

You nod, before double taking as you catch sight of something over his shoulder.

Luffy looks up too.

There’s another sprig of mistletoe dangling from under the mast, metres high above your head.

“Don’t,” you say, before Luffy can react, “eat it this time.”

#op y/n secret santa #one piece x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader #luffy x reader #one piece #one piece x you #one piece.#luffy.#gift.#blorbo exchange.#long post #( i rly hope you like this #i also couldn't gift it to you on ao3 )

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