#not sure how Pacifica came into this but here she is

[callipraxia]

(Mostly replying to the tags on OP)

The letter Wendy gives Dipper does strongly imply they plan to be in town again by summer 2013, so there is some canonicity to the notion that boatventures aren't meant to be a full-time, rest-of-their-lives, never-going-back enterprise. Plus, all the reasons you mention - I particularly imagine Stan might miss the town itself more than he expects to, because really, GF was the first real home he ever had after his parents kicked him out. For the previous ten years, he'd never been able to stay in one place besides a prison for very long, and we know that Stan is a) a man very attached to his comforts and b) very, very sentimental. He even sounds more fond when reminiscing about his childhood than not, even though it's hinted everything was always a lot less happy than he likes to pretend it was forty years later.

I think he also bases his self-esteem (such as it is) on the combination of defining an in-group that matters to him, then trying to get said in-group to approve of him....and while Ford was apparently basically enough of an in-group to work for him when he was a kid, it's been forty years since those days. In the meantime, his circle has expanded - man's had a borderline worshiper (in the form of Soos) for the last ten years before he got Ford back, for goodness' sake - and he was downright elated about how "the whole town loves us now!" after the events of "Gideon Rises." The Shack itself was also an accomplishment that was entirely his own, something he could only be said to have ridden Ford's coattails on in the very loosest sense of the term, and I suspect that makes a difference; he sounded so proud of himself when he mentioned that "finally, I'd found something I was good at" when talking about the early days of the Mystery Shack, and it seems he collected newspaper articles pertaining to it for years, too (based on the changing displays around his mirror in the aging-up montage in "A Tale of Two Stans"). The town will never be the central group, that's the group he defines as "family," but the public of GF, and the stability of having a place in society, where he knows and is known, that goes with said public... I seriously doubt he's genuinely indifferent to them, either. Add in how he's now being proclaimed the town hero on the news broadcasts in the finale (and proclaimed as such under his own name, even), and he might end up essentially only wanting to leave periodically because of the odds there will be a parade when he comes back.

Plus, as the tags mention, Soos. We very rarely get to see it on screen, but there is evidence that Stan is fond of him, in his own way. In his memories, we see him confide in Soos, including unbending enough to talk a little about his childhood and even his father; we also learn from Dipper in the Journal that Stan has memories of teaching Soos to box as a kid, which (since Stan still keeps his gloves around his room as an old man, even, and seems proud of having learned the skill when he was a child) it seems safe to assume was a bonding exercise of sorts. In the episodes of the show, Stan occasionally takes the time to explain business concepts to Soos, and will even (albeit more rarely) listen to Soos' business ideas from time to time. Bill, while inside Stan's mind, also refers to "Stan's family - Question Mark, Shooting Star, Pine Tree!" It must be acknowledged that Bill is a lying liar who lies, of course, and that he was clearly planning to manipulate the Mystery Crew and its emotional issues surrounding, among other things, Stan into inadvertently helping him from the first second, so it's possible he was just saying what he knew would hit an emotional button in Soos (either because pushing Soos' buttons had the potential to be useful later, or because Bill just enjoys pushing buttons), but if he isn't lying, then this nevertheless does lump Soos firmly in with Dipper and Mabel in the "family" category. Support for the idea that Stan might genuinely feel that way could, one could argue, be found in Soos' behavior: he behaves, for all intents and purposes, as a member of the Pines family. Soos is seen attending Pines family movie nights, and accompanies the family through the entirety of "The Golf War;" in that episode, Pacifica even refers to him as a member of the Pines family (though she does also later refer to him as a servant...must not headcanon Pacifica having some degree of genuine bond with her servants, a real attachment to the butler and her nanny and such others as might have taken, even to a limited and inadequate degree, up some of the emotional support roles her parents clearly aren't that interested in filling....). So yeah. Stan might well miss Soos.

Finally, well...Stan refers to himself constantly as an "old man," and while Ford only calls himself old when he's trying to make an excuse to awkwardly ask someone to stay with him without coming out and admitting that he actually just craves human contact, fact remains that the man is over sixty and hasn't had the easiest life. Realistically, there's only so many years that the sea life is going to be remotely plausible for them (even if the extra exercise is really good for Stan in the short term).

**Confession time - I have headcanons around some of the issues I discuss here.

I have the idea that as a young adult, Dipper might accompany the Stans on some of their later adventures. It's a background detail in the one (1) future story I've written, though I keep having vague ideas about exploring it further. Apparently, in my world, Dipper doesn't settle down until at least thirty-five, if he ever does at all (never decided on that issue).

Pacifica might end up working in the stables at the Building Formerly Known As Northwest Manor, at least as a teenager - she's visibly disturbed by the idea of being separated from her horses in the finale, and her comment on her wrecked appearance before she appears on a magazine cover in total disarray during Lost Legends ("I look like...me") indicates that she has a more rough-and-tumble side than her generally immaculate appearance might otherwise suggest; we also know she's apparently a pretty dedicated athlete (practicing mini-golf for hours with a specialized trainer) and her profile in the online pages of LL indicates she likes what sounds like fairly violent video games. When her idea of the Northwest legacy is well and truly shattered, she yanks off her diamond earrings and throws them away, as if rejecting the appearance her parents have pushed onto her now that she's become disgusted with the whole concept behind it. While she probably does have some genuine interest in fashion (she attempts, however briefly, to stand up to her mother to defend her own taste in shades of green in "Northwest Mansion Mystery," and when denied the right to wear what she wants, she comes in purple instead of in any shade of green) she also has an inner tomboy side I expect she'll explore more in the months and years after the show. Plus, getting a job would just be one more way to basically shoot her parents the passive-aggressive bird while simultaneously further integrating her into the social structure of the town proper, where she's now at least somewhat accepted.

post stan o war these two go on lots of adventures

[dimonds456-art]

CUPHEAD CROSSOVER!

@year2000electronics ask and ye shall receive

Ramblings under the cut!

The general idea is that the AU follows a similar story structure to Cuphead, but the lore is similar to Gravity Falls. There's just one key difference: everyone can see and interact with Bill. He just can't really interact with our world. Yet.

Bill is a projection, brought forth by Gideon Gleeful. He would allow Bill free presence, and in return, Bill basically made him famous, AND his Earthen right-hand. So he takes the place of King Dice.

From there, the history is almost the same as GF. Ford came here to investigate anomalies, found Gravity Falls, met Bill, and started building a portal. The possession came with a different cost this time, though; Ford's soul. Bill promised he'd be in good hands and that it's just kinda part of the gig, but because of this, Bill's ability to possess him never left.

Once Ford got the metal plate installed, Bill was limited, sure, but he still had control of the soul contract, meaning he could basically just. Force Ford to do shit. The main limiting factor here is that he has to know where Ford is and has to be able to see him. If he can't see him, he can't control him. Once Ford is in the multiverse, this is the main reason Bill can't get him. He doesn't know where Ford is.

The main story is just everyone in Gravity Falls making really really stupid mistakes. The only person who has not fallen for Bill's games is Stan, who- like Elder Kettle- tried to warn the twins about making bad deals, but ultimately this fell through when they got curious and visited Gideon's tent, where Bill was also observing.

In my interpretation of this AU, Pacifica takes the place of Ms Chalice. She's hurt and alone, and her dad made a deal with Cipher that resulted in. this. I like to think it was a Monkey's Paw type scenario, but my brain is an egg so I'll figure that one out later. Basically Pacifica wants her body back (ghost rules the same as the DLC), so she decides to help Dipper and Mabel under the belief that they can assist her once Bill is defeated.

However, this falls through. However the deal worked, it persists, and Pacifica starts to wonder if she'll always be a ghost. But that's where Ford comes in.

Ford, taking the place of Saltbaker (kinda? kinda.), offers to try and help her restore her physical form. Call in the twins and let's be off let's go. He says he needs to build a machine that could potentially reverse the effects permanently, and he needs parts. So that's what the twins are doing. The cookie is replaced with an astro-physical restorative remote, but a really, really weak one, and it requires a host to work, keeping the idea that one of them will always be a ghost until the machine is done.

The only problem with this plan is that Ford's contract with Bill is not up, and was not destroyed by Dipper and Mabel, and Bill can see him now. So. In short, that ain't Ford.

The parts the kids were gathering were for the portal.

Once they figure that out, we get a Baking the Wondertart equivalent, Bill is defeated, and in doing so, Ford is freed of the contract as well, meaning Bill can't mess with him anymore.

Not sure if Bill lives all the way to the end of this story, but there is a good chance unless I figure out how to kill him, seeing as Weirdmageddon probably doesn't happen here.

Gotta think on it more, but that's the basic idea. First draft. All of this is subject to change hdfsdfjh

[ckret2]

Chapter 84 of human Bill Cipher getting a day pass out of being the Mystery Shack's prisoner: so it turns out Bill and Pacifica have a lot in common! And it's not weird at all! It's—it's very normal. Their childhoods were so normal.

(Since this entire chapter is from the point of view of a character who doesn't know the person she's talking to is Bill, a PSA for those of y'all who missed it. Thanks.)

####

"Okay, that's as much as I can do to help your hair without deep conditioning it," Pacifica said. "Now let's talk about styling it."

They were back in Pacifica's office, with Goldie seated in his folding chair and Mabel sitting in Pacifica's desk chair (slowly spinning it back and forth) as Pacifica lectured them. Pacifica had given Goldie a spare t-shirt to dry his hair with (you could never have too much spare clothing on hand when you were dealing with farm animals), but he'd just loosely wrapped it around his hair and promptly ignored it.

Pacifica said, "You've got this issue where the weight of your curls pulls the top of your hair down and makes it flatten out near your scalp—but your hair's all the same length, so it really flares out near your shoulders. It's called triangle hair and it is not a cute look."

Goldie and Mabel bit their lips and exchanged a look, and Pacifica got the distinct impression that she'd accidentally reminded them about some inside joke she wasn't part of.

Trying to ignore the feeling that she was being left out of something, Pacifica cleared her throat and went on. "So, uh—you can fix it with like, layering your haircut and stuff? But. I don't actually... know how to do that." All her knowledge of curly hair and its care—much less fashionable haircuts—came from fashion and beauty magazines, which covered things like shampoo and flattering styles but assumed you'd leave the actual hair-cutting to the professionals. "So. I can get your curls presentable, and I guess we can figure out a way to pin it that looks nice? But that's the best I can do without an emergency salon trip."

"You sure we can't leave the triangle hair?" Goldie asked innocently. "I think it's cute. It really feels like me." Mabel clapped a hand over her mouth and snorted.

Pacifica raised her brows. "Do you want to feel like you, or do you want to get the guy?"

"Right, of course," Goldie said. "I almost forgot what's really important!"

Pacifica passed Goldie her phone. "Here—I wasn't sure what kind of look you were going for so I saved a few pictures of curly hair styles, let me know if you like any of these." She searched through the collection of makeup on her desk for the bobby pins and hair ties she'd picked up earlier. "The trend this year is for slicked-back styles, braids, and buns—but your curls are so pretty, I'd hate to hide them." 

Mabel leaned halfway across the desk to try to see the pictures too; Goldie's held out the phone to meet her halfway as as he scrolled—and scrolled, and scrolled, and scrolled. He said, "Good job narrowing down the list to a modest two hundred pictures."

Pacifica said, "Excuse me for wanting you to have options."

Mabel pointed. "Awww, look at that one with all the little butterfly hair clips!"

"It's like butterflies are eating her brain."

"And they look adorable doing it."

"Too juvenile for me. It looks like something Prisma the fairy would wear," Goldie said. "You should wear it."

Mabel's eyes lit up. "You've got to help me make fifty butterfly hair clips."

"You got it." He closed out of Pacifica's pictures, opened up the browser, and awkwardly typed in a search. "Hey, Alpaca, look at this one."

That was the second time he'd called her that. "Do you actually know my name?"

"Rapunzel." He held up a picture of some seventies movie star with thick, feathery hair that fluffed out around her face like the wings of a panicked swan trying to take off. "Think you can pull this one off?"

Pacifica grimaced. "You'd look like my mom." Except even worse and more old fashioned. (She kept that part to herself.)

Flatly, he said, "Oh no, how will I ever convince a male that I'm a prize worth winning if I literally look like a trophy wife."

That would be just about the only part of Goldie that looked like a trophy wife. (She kept that part to herself too.) "And we'd have to give you bangs."

As she suspected, Goldie grimaced and flipped to another image. At least he knew bang weren't for him. "How 'bout this one?"

It looked like a solid helmet of hair, with the ends uniformly curled outward like the embarrassing forced-whimsical hairstyle of the minions of an insane chocolatier. "Ew. That's about the only thing that could make you look even worse than you already do."

"Pacifica," Mabel said sharply. "Be nice!"

"Sorry!" She'd kept so many parts to herself that she didn't have any spare room to keep that part. "I can't do it, anyway. It would need a flat iron and a curling iron, and I don't have either."

"Can't we get some?" Goldie asked. "Any drug store should have 'em, it's a fifteen minute walk to—"

"I don't use them," Pacifica said sharply.

Goldie's stare was like a heat lamp—or maybe that was just self-consciousness heating up Pacifica's face as he scrutinized her. But after several long seconds, Goldie's gaze turned off her face. She quietly sighed in relief.

"Okay," he said. "Then this one." He showed her another picture. It had curly shoulder-length bangs, which wasn't really in style but fine, but behind them was a bouffant shaped like a deflating basketball with a wilting palm tree sprouting out of it.

Pacifica cringed. It was, unfortunately, doable. A note of pleading in her voice, she asked, "Are you really into this look? Really?"

("I think it's pretty," Mabel muttered.)

"Oh, no way!" Goldie said. "Look at that mess! That's way too much effort for a 'do that looks like she did it drunk in the dark in under two minutes."

(Mabel looked at Goldie like he'd personally betrayed her.)

"But," he went on, "it's what our guy is into, and that's what matters here. Right?"

Pacifica studied the picture dubiously. "You're sure?"

"He went through puberty in the 70s! When his libido opened its eyes for the first time, this is what it imprinted on."

Pacifica bit her lip. Well. At least Goldie didn't think it looked good, but. "Can I at least improve it a little?"

"Oh, please!"

She picked up the comb again and grabbed a couple of bobby pins. "No promises, but I'll do what I can."

Pacifica talked a big game, but in truth, she knew a lot more about the theory of hairstyles than she did about actually styling hair. You don't have to film a blockbuster to be a film critic. So at that point, all she could do was experiment with Goldie's hair as she attempted to approximate the picture he'd shown her. She circled around him as she worked—putting in pins, taking them out, occasionally asking him his opinion.

But although Goldie had previously been a non-stop chatterer, the moment she'd started working on his hair, he'd fallen silent.

He only glanced in the hand mirror she'd given him when she prompted him, and then only to give one-word answers—usually "fine." His shoulders were as tense and his mouth as tight as Pacifica's had been the first time she had to wash alpaca poop off the bottom of a boot. And Pacifica had nearly vommed, so, that was pretty serious.

Why? It couldn't be pain. Pacifica had gotten all the knots out of his hair earlier—and even when she wasn't using the comb, it was like she couldn't even move a lock of his hair without him wincing. She kept wanting to apologize even though she was just doing what he wanted her to.

There was something going on here. It wasn't just how uncomfortable he was with being touched. There was also the way he did an awful job of washing his hair even though he knew how to perfectly well. And how he'd rather let Mabel brush his hair into a frizzy mess than comb it out himself. And beyond all that, the first thing Pacifica had ever learned about him was that he'd gotten his hair melted off and needed emergency help to grow it back. "You... really don't like your hair, do you?"

"I like it fine. It's gorgeous." He was speaking through gritted teeth, and he had his legs crossed with his feet under his thighs, palms up in lap, eyes fixed on the blanket Mabel had made, as though having a staring contest with the triangle creep would help him endure the torture without flinching. "I just—don't like messing with it."

"Which is fine," Mabel cut in. "Because I like brushing it!" She quickly amended herself: "Combing it. We've got like a symbiotic relationship going on."

"Yeah! Star girl's my personal stylist! She does my hair and makeup. I wouldn't deprive her of that honor!"

Pacifica nodded slowly. Right—all that, and he was defensive about not taking care of it.

Not embarrassed because he didn't take care of it, it dawned on her; embarrassed because he couldn't take care of it. She had a sense for those sorts of things—a middle school queen bee had to develop that sense—because that was what you targeted if you really wanted to humiliate someone: something that they couldn't help. That was it, wasn't it? He'd said he was apathetic about his body; he didn't care that his hair was messy. Because if he did care that it was messy, he would have done something about it. Unless he couldn't. Like, a mental block.

As she tried for the eighth time to gather the bulk of his hair into an updo that looked sorta fun and casual without looking stupid, she turned over everything she knew about him—about his hair, his apathy, his shame... the things he'd said to her the moment they met, before they even got started.

It wasn't a logical deduction so much as it was an instinct, and just looking at Goldie it seemed impossible; but still she said, hesitantly, "Your mom made you do pageants as a kid, didn't she?"

Mabel sat up a little straighter, confused; but Goldie turned around to stare at her, dumbfounded. "How— What—makes you think that?"

Oh please. He wasn't fooling anyone, it was all over his face. "You're so weird about your hair. It's obviously trauma from your mom."

Beneath his sunburn, Goldie's burned cheeks somehow managed to flush even darker. He gaped at her, wide-eyed and terrified, like she was a psychic who had just told him how his own parents had died. He croaked, "What?"

Pacifica burst out laughing. "Oh my gosh, you should see your face! Listen, you're clearly familiar with pageant life. And I saw so many curly girls getting their hair mauled by their moms half an hour before going on stage. I don't blame you for being weird about touching it! I had it easy—" she flipped her naturally straight hair, "—but even at that, I can't stand using a flat iron to this day."

Goldie relaxed, apparently reassured that Pacifica hadn't read his mind. He settled back in his seat. "Oh, I dunno, I find the smell of burning hair comforting! It reminds me of home!"

"Ha! Okay, yeah, you do get used to it after a while." She started attempt number nine to gather up his curls. "I wouldn't have guessed when you came in. You don't look like a... I mean... you know. No offense."

"Well, duh, you can't tell now." He gestured at himself, "I lost my good looks. What I wouldn't give to have my old body back..." He sighed wistfully.

Pacifica held back a snort. Oh yeah. More than anything else he'd said so far, that convinced her he really was a former pageant kid. In her experience, every single pageant mom trying to relive her own beauty queen glory days through her daughter said things exactly like that.

Mabel said, "Aww..." She stretched a hand out toward Goldie, couldn't reach him across Pacifica's enormous desk, and with a grunt heaved herself up to lay across the top—knocking over a couple of the cosmetic supplies Pacifica had set up in the process—so she could pat his shoulder. "There, there."

"Thanks."

She slid back into her seat. "Did you really do pageants? You didn't tell me that." A note of betrayal crept into her voice.

"I didn't tell her either—" he jabbed a thumb at Pacifica, "—but here we are!" (Pacifica shrugged unapologetically.) "I've got a lotta backstory you're still catching up on."

"Well, yeah, but—you said you just did..." She grasped for the right words, and settled on, "build-y stuff with pageants."

"I didn't say that," he said breezily. Mabel scowled at him; but shot a look at Pacifica, and just sat back without saying anything, arms crossed, her feet audibly kicking at the inside of the desk. 

He didn't seem as stressed about his hair while he was talking, Pacifica noticed. (Maybe that was why hairdressers were so chatty? Or maybe just because it was kind of weird to stick your hands in someone's hair for an hour in total silence.) She asked, "Which pageant systems did you compete in?"

"None you'd have heard about," Goldie said. "They weren't on this continent and it was like a trillion years ago." Before Pacifica could pry about which continent, he added, "Hey, fun fact! Didja know that the first beauty contest in Oregon was established here in Gravity Falls?"

"Pff, duh, of course I know that," Pacifica said. "It was established by the town founder, my great-great grandpa."

"Close, but no," he said gleefully. "It was established by the real town founder."

Pacifica grimaced. "Him? The crazy undead guy without pants? Ugh, no wonder we're the only pageant with a mandatory bird calls category."

"The first three competitions were actually won by birds! They only added a fashion category to balance out the birds' unfair advantage at birdsong. Quentin resigned from the judges' panel in protest."

"He should've taken the dumb birdsong requirement with him," Pacifica muttered. "They make the kids pageant do it too. I had to get a private tutor to learn how to whistle."

"That sounds fun, though," Mabel said. "I can do bird song! Grunkle Ford taught me some. Listen to this!" She let out an admittedly impressive moo.

"Not a bad cowl call," Goldie said. "You woulda killed it at the accompanying bird costume requirement."

Mabel gasped. "I can make feather wings. Hey, do you think I could compete?"

"Not unless you move to Oregon."

"Aww."

"We can still make wings, though," Goldie said.

Pacifica had never had to deal with the dumb bird costume requirement, thank goodness. That only started in the teen brackets. Which made her wonder—"How old were you when you quit? Pretty young, right? Like, no offense, but if you need teenagers to do your makeup..." If Goldie was living as a guy now, it'd make sense if he didn't wear makeup day-to-day; but if he'd stuck with pageants past like age ten, he would have at least learned how to do his own makeup.

"Ha! You're right. I started when I was young enough that my mom could dust glitter on my butt without getting weird looks! I quit around... equivalent to third or fourth grade in the States? She wanted me to keep going—so I said, 'You want me to perform? Fine then—I'll put on the best performance you've ever seen.' And that's exactly what I did!" Thoughtfully, he added, "But for some reason I didn't win the talent portion. I guess the judges weren't impressed that I could play the piano and set it on fire at the same time."

Pacifica cracked up. "Okay wow—I retired during the talent portion too, but how you did it is way more exciting. The year I was aging out of the 9-11 bracket, I kinda had a meltdown on stage over losing to some girl with a hula hoop? Yeah, I did not win supreme that year."

"You shoulda won talent just for that scream! You hit some impressively high notes." At Pacifica's odd look, Goldie said, "Saw it online."

Figured. That was probably coming back to haunt her in ten years. "It's weird. There's like... two ways pageant girls go—er, girls or guys or... whatever."

"Whatever," Goldie agreed.

"Yeah. Either they make it part of their identity? And keep up the makeup and fashion and everything, sometimes stick with pageants as teens or start modeling professionally? Which is what I did. Or they totally burn out, don't want anythingto do with the beauty industry, and just, like, wear sweats forever."

With a faint air of wounded pride, Goldie said, "It's the bedsheet sarong, isn't it."

"No offense! I'm just saying."

"I'll have you know it's laundry day and Jesús stole my clean clothes instead of my dirty laundry." (Pacifica decided to forgive him for the weird fish smell.) "You're looking at me at a low point, kid. I was actually a pretty snappy dresser up until... lllast summer."

Hearing Goldie call her kid gave Pacifica a little jolt of surprise. For a moment, she'd forgotten she was talking to somebody with an age; she'd started to feel like she was being visited by the immortal Spirit of Washed-Up Former Pageant Children. As if he'd died and stopped aging the same time he retired. "What happened last summer?"

Goldie looked at Mabel. "Yeah, what did happen last summer?"

"Um." Mabel froze. "He... lost it all in a... um... overseas parrot circus venture! Yeah—all the trained parrots escaped before the opening night of the circus and he lost all his money."

Goldie let out a shrill cackle. "I like that, I'm keeping that."

Okay, got it, it wasn't any of Pacifica's business. "I think... this is the best I can do with your hair." She stepped back. "Unless you want to pick a style that doesn't suck."

He gave himself a cursory glance in the hand mirror, immediately lowered it, and said, "Sucky style's fine!"

"Don't say that, you look so beautiful," Mabel said. "You look like a babysitter!"

"Well, it doesn't get much better than that." He dropped the mirror on the desk. "What's next?"

####

Next—finally—was the part they'd actually come here for: the makeup.

"Okay, I tried to get around the eyepatch while I was doing your hair, but you've got to take it off for this part," Pacifica said.

He groaned, but muttered, "Fine, I've put up with this tyranny so far," removed it, and looked at her with his previously-covered eye squinted against the light—which was the point at which Pacifica realized that he had eyepatch tan lines... around his other eye. How???

There was no fixing that before tomorrow. She bit her lips, shut her eyes, pressed her hands together, and took in a deep breath. Okay. She could handle this.

"Why do you even wear this?" She tossed the eyepatch to Mabel—it was one of those cheap costume pirate-y looking patches. "Is this one of the Mystery Shack's gimmicky touristy things? Both your eyes work! And wearing an eyepatch when you obviously don't need it is just tacky."

"I've got a neurological condition! Seeing through two eyes messes up my depth perception," Goldie said. "I get migraines if I don't keep one covered! Which is admittedly the most fun thing you can do to your brain without involving narcotics, but it makes it hard to keep down lunch!"

"Oh," Pacifica mumbled. Maybe she should just get to work before she shoved her foot any deeper in her mouth.

She started by slapping aloe vera on as much sunburned skin as she could reach, handed over the jar with strict instructions to apply more in the morning, and gave him an emphatic lecture on sunburns and sunscreen and skin damage that petered out when he cheerfully started telling her about skin cancer statistics. She changed the topic when he started listing his favorite kinds of skin cancer.

She stripped off the nail polish that Goldie had apparently gotten during one of Mabel's sleepovers, and repainted it with, at Pacifica's insistence, something more "mature." (She vetoed Mabel's suggestion to paint little hearts. She vetoed Goldie's request for gold. She gave him the choice between white French tips, pale pink, or solid red. He chose red.)

She hadn't anticipated that her customer would be in such dire straits that she'd need to shave him, so she didn't have any supplies for that; but she also ordered him to get his legs as smooth as the surface of a balloon as soon as he got home—"And do you think there's any chance this guy you're after will see your pits?" "He already has!" "Hm. Okay. Yeah, uh, get those anyway."—and informed him that she would report him to the police for vandalism if he "shaved" using whatever depilatory cream he'd previously used on his hair.

As she finished plucking his brows, she said, "Okay, I think you're finally in decent enough condition for actual makeup." She stepped back, took in his face, and said, "Barely." She grimaced. "I wish I'd bought a concealer with better coverage. I didn't know the situation was so bad."

To his credit, Goldie had taken her criticism (and occasional looks of horror) like a champ. He simply drawled, amused, "The body rituals of the Nacirema are as elaborate as they are bizarre."

She picked up a couple of the foundations she'd bought and held them up next to the eye that had been protected by the eyepatch tan line, trying to determine which one was a closer match for whatever his skin tone was when he wasn't burned. "Who're the Nacirema? One of the tribes that used to live around here?"

"They're still in the area. Look 'em up."

Pacifica thought the darker foundation was closer; she tested it on his inner arm to be sure. "So, how much makeup do you already know how to apply? Any?"

"I can do mascara, eyeliner, and mascara."

"Riiight. Okay, both of you pay attention to what I'm doing." She evicted Mabel from her desk chair and dragged it around in front of Goldie's folding chair. "Because I will not be coming over to do this tomorrow, so the two of you will have to repeat this yourself. Here." She handed Goldie a mirror so he could watch her work.

Mabel hopped up to sit on the desk next to Goldie. "You have one hundred percent of my attention!" She immediately looked away from Pacifica at the makeup brushes laid out on the desk, picked up a fan brush curiously, and started dragging it up and down her arm. "Ooh. Tickly." 

"Emphasize my eyes," Goldie said. "They're my best feature. You can forget about everything else, but my eyes have to look good."

Pacifica looked at his eyes. Pacifica really looked at his eyes.

There was something wrong with his eyes.

She decided to stop looking at his eyes. "Okaaay, great great great, you've got suuuper long lashes, that's fantastic. We can totally draw attention there. You don't even need fake lashes. And you've got nice big prominent eyes. Kinda bulgy, but that should be easy to hide with eyeshadow. I'm thinking maybe a smokey eye?"

"What about metallics? Like gold?" Goldie asked innocently. "Kind of a retro 'secret agent villainess' look, don't you think! It'd bring out the yellow in my eyes!"

Pacifica said, "You do not want to bring out your jaundice."

"Don't tell me what I want."

"No gold eyeshadow," Pacifica said. "Period. If you want to experiment with color, we can try a smoky eye in burgundy. Burgundy is hot this year."

Goldie muttered something about welcoming a bottle of burgundy right now, then said, "Fine! Burgundy."

(As Pacifica looked through her makeup palettes for the burgundy, Bill leaned over to Mabel and whispered, "Do we have any leftover gold eyeshadow?" Mabel nodded and winked. Bill winked back.)

"What about the rest of your face?"

"Skip it."

"I'm not letting you go bare-faced aside from your eyes," Pacifica said. "But we can do a natural makeup look."

"That's so boring," Mabel said. She was dragging the fan brush over her lips now. "If it looks natural why's he wearing any makeup at all?"

Goldie said, "Because humans are insane about the most uninteresting things."

As Pacifica worked her way through the foundation, concealer—she decided his sunburned skin had enough of a sun-kissed glow that she could skip bronzer—and contouring, she said, "You are... really good at holding still when you try." He'd gone completely still, like a statue. A statue that was making direct eye contact with her soul. She felt a bead of sweat slide down her neck. She wasn't sure he was breathing.

"He's super good," Mabel agreed. "It's kinda creepy."

"Thanks!" And just like that, he was smiling and alive again. "I do a lot of meditating! Gimme a focal point to watch and I can go like two billion years!"

"You didn't learn from...?"

"Pageants? Ha! No way, I was the wiggliest little demon you've ever seen. It drove my mom nuts when she was trying to do my lashes. She used to say 'If you love me, hold still' to keep me in place—but you know how contrary kids are when they're mad! Eventually I got fed up and said, 'Well then, maybe I don't love you!' And she didn't speak to me for three days." Goldie laughed. "Ahh, I had the most dramatic mom."

"Wow, my mom would kill me if I ever tried something like that—especially if it was in public where people could see us," Pacifica said. "She hired makeup artists so I'd struggle against them instead of her. Your mom did your makeup? Did she ever hire anyone?"

"Nooo way. We ran our operation on a razor-thin budget to maximize the profits from my winnings. The name of the game was efficiency!"

"My mom's sure wasn't," Pacifica said. "(Shut your right eye, I've got to get your eyeshadow.) We went through like, fifty makeup artists or something. Sometimes more than one while prepping for the same pageant." She lowered her voice a tad, "A couple times when the makeup artist was a creep, I messed up my own makeup just so Mom would fire them."

"Ha! Suckers. Yeah, that's probably how it woulda gone if my mom had handed me off to a makeup artist. I was not afraid to sic her on adults! We didn't have any hired help when I was that age, but the principal was terrified of her. And if another kid at a competition was getting on my nerves, I'd go crying to her that they pushed me and oh, man, she'd come down on their parents like the asteroid on Chicxulub."

"Me too! There was this girl in third grade who was so... I don't know, just—" she pulled a face, "eugh, you know? I complained to mom about her and got her family blacklisted by the whole town. They had to move out of the state just to get a job."

Goldie laughed loudly. "Now that is impressive!"

Pacifica's gut shifted uncomfortably. Was it? "Other eye now." She didn't speak for a moment as she tried to get both eyes matching. "Actually... it was... kinda scary?"

She'd asked her mom if she could puh-lease get this girl out of Pacifica's class. She'd just expected the girl to be switched to another teacher.

Instead, over the next few weeks, she heard about the girl's mother losing her job, then her father. Her older brother got kicked out of the local Future Lumberjacks of America chapter. One day the girl came to school in tears after being cut from the softball team. A couple months later, the girl's friends—the two that hadn't drifted away from her as her family became pariahs—threw her a tearful goodbye party during lunch with a mall-bought cookie cake; and the next day, she was gone forever.

After that first time Pacifica had complained about her classmate, her mom had never once mentioned the girl or her family. She never asked if Pacifica had any more trouble with her. Not even when they left town. It was as though, after her mom ground them under her heel, they were beneath her notice. Just four crushed ants.

But Goldie was staring at her, frowning in confusion, like she didn't make any sense. "What—scary for the other kid?" he asked. "Sure. It's supposed to be, isn't it?"

Pacifica didn't reply for a second. I'm afraid of how good she was at doing exactly what I asked her to do without realizing I was asking for it—that sounded stupid. Finally, she said, "Don't wrinkle your face like that, I haven't set your foundation yet. It'll make it cake up."

"Your moms sound insane," Mabel said. While they'd been swapping stories about their childhoods, she'd been staring at them, chin in one hand, chewing on the fan brush's bristles. "Were you guys tortured growing up?"

"Pfff, what? No, of course not!" Pacifica said. "My parents would never. You've only seen my mom's worst side, she's not really that bad. I mean—not to me. She's horrible to poor people, but that's different."

Goldie said, "Yeah, my mom was my biggest defender! If anyone tried to hold me back, she'd rip them a new one."

"But—forcing you to do pageants until you have a breakdown?" Mabel said, glancing between Goldie and Pacifica, mouth twisting up like the words tasted sour. "Guilting you into wearing makeup and attacking other parents and stuff? That's nuts."

"It's not like that," Pacifica said automatically, then tried to figure out what it was like.

"Now we're calling a kid's temper tantrum a breakdown? You've got a future career in propaganda, star girl," Goldie said wryly. "It's a mom's job to bring out a kid's potential, right? Sure, it drove me nuts at the time—but kids don't want their potential brought out, kids are lazy!" He shrugged, "Yeah, my parents weren't perfect—they didn't really 'get' me, they held me back from reaching my full potential because they couldn't see what it was—but I'd never have gotten on the road to unlocking my potential myself if they hadn't put me on the right path as a kid."

Pacifica nodded. "Totally! That's just normal mom stuff! My parents are exactly the same—they don't get my alpaca business at all—but there's no way I'd be running a business at thirteen if my mom hadn't pushed me to be the best I can be. Or supporting my alpacas through modeling if I hadn't learned how to present myself in the pageant system. Even mini-golf was just a hobby until my parents got me a coach and started taking me to competitions."

"And I wouldn't be the huge success I am today without those early lessons in public speaking!"

Mabel shot Goldie a meaningful look. He pointed at her. "Don't say a word. I've had a bad year, you can't judge me by that. Anyone could've lost their parrots in a freak accident."

"And some kids had it way worse," Pacifica said. "Some parents would hit their kids or scream at them for messing up their routines or getting distracted? Those girls never lasted long, you can tell if a contestant's just going through the motions because she's scared. I was never treated like that. My pageant coach taught my parents to use a 'warning bell,' when they rang it that was my warning to stop goofing off and focus on practicing or listen to them or whatever. They'd pay me in chocolate if I got back in line."

"Ha!" Goldie smacked the desk, "Oh wow, that's hilarious! Pageant coach Pavlov. My parents would have loved that when I was in the toddler competitions."

"Right?!" Pacifica laughed. "Now I'm like, wow, I used to be bribable with a piece of chocolate? Kids are sooo easy to manipulate."

"But hey, it's a good life lesson: the occasional reward and the fear of punishment is a lot more effective at keeping people in line than actual punishments."

Pacifica nodded thoughtfully. "Wow. That's so insightful."

"See?" Goldie beamed at Mabel. "Pageants teach kids all kinds of useful things! Ambition, poise, charisma, self-confidence, social skills..."

She grimaced. "Yeah, but... all the restrictions and pressure and trauma and stuff? That really sounds bad."

"I think you're just bitter that you can't enter the birdsong contest."

She kicked his arm. "I'm serious!"

He pushed back her shoe and waved her off dismissively. "It only sounds bad to you because you were never in the pageant world! It's got its own rituals and expectations, of course it looks weird to outsiders."

"And everyone judges pageants so much more harshly than other competitive sports—which is what pageants basically are," Pacifica said. "Like, pageants and competitive mini-golf took just as much practice, just as much coaching, just as much time and money—but in real life, knowing how to make myself look presentable and talk to adults has helped me way more often than knowing how to knock a ball into a hole. Mini-golf only saved my life once."

"Charisma will get you everywhere," Goldie agreed. "It's the most effective form of mind-control you can do without psychically rewiring someone's neurons."

"Basically! But getting a medal at the Sportlympics has everyone talk about how skilled and hard-working and dedicated you are, and getting a tiara in a national pageant gets people who have never even watched a pageant calling you a bimbo. Like, what?"

"Blatant double standards!" To Mabel, Goldie said, "Both your parents work in Silicon Valley. Their priority is intelligence and grades instead of looks and charisma, so that's why you and your brother get pushed in school—but it's all the same! Parents push their kids to be successful whatever way they know how."

Mabel stared into space. "Huh." She fell silent, gnawing on the fan brush's handle—pondering whether her parents worrying about her so-so grades was comparable to the pageant moms desperate for their daughters' straight hair to be straighter and curly hair to be curlier.

Smugly, Goldie went on, "If anything, the pageant circuit was more useful than school. I—"

"(Stop moving around, I've got to do your other eye.)"

Goldie obediently leaned forward and shut his other eye. "I went from pageants straight into public speaking. I had an entire career before I was out of school. Everyone loved me! I was a natural in the spotlight!"

"Really?" Pacifica said dubiously. She could buy that he might have been a competitor as a kid, but honestly, he seemed pretty creepy to her. Enough confidence could carry you pretty far, but...

He rolled his open eye. "Don't take that tone with me. It was before you were born! And like I said—I've lost my looks. I used to be..."

He trailed off, staring down at his nail polished hands like he didn't recognize them.

He muttered, "I used to be so much better than this."

Mabel reached out and rubbed his upper arm comfortingly.

Sometimes Pacifica caught her mom staring in a mirror, studying her face with an expression somewhere between nervous and depressed, gently touching her fingertips to the thin lines beginning to appear around her eyes and mouth as though she were examining gruesome wounds. Her mother had always said that looks are everything; and even though she didn't talk about her feelings directly, from the way she sometimes snapped at Pacifica to keep up her skincare—moisturizer, sunscreen, hydration, don't frown too hard—Pacifica thought maybe she wasn't worried about Pacifica's face so much as her own.

Goldie only had the faintest traces of the start of wrinkles, unnoticeable if Pacifica hadn't just spent the past few minutes plastering foundation on his face. She wondered how old he was. She wondered whether he had the same fear her mother did: that his body was letting him down, slowly dying all around him.

You don't go through the child pageant world without learning two things: everyone wants you to look and act older than you are; and the older you get, the less anyone wants you.

"I've got to do your lips," Pacifica said, picking out a couple of options: a red so bright it was nearly orange (totally in this year), a nice glossy nude that ought to be a close match to Goldie's natural lip color. "Did you want to stick with the natural look, or...?"

He glanced up from his hands at the offered lipsticks. "What the heck," he sighed. "Let's make it red."

Pacifica nodded. "Pooch your lips out for me, like this." And that was the last they spoke for a while.

####

(Here's your regular TBOB report: no actual plot was changed due to TBOB. I added in a few lines referencing it: the imagery of Priscilla grinding normal people beneath her heel is meant to be reminiscent of Pacifica's giant nightmare on TINAWDC; the "meditating" for specifically two billion years is a direct reference to the barber pole, although I'd already headcanoned that Bill can meditate/dissociate for absolutely vast quantities of time; I already had dialogue where he goes on the importance of charisma and how much everyone adored him as a kid, but I tossed in another sentence or two about charisma just because of how strongly he emphasizes it in TBOB; and originally I had dialogue where Bill went on about what big supporters his parents were, even though he privately feels like they didn't get him—all I changed was deciding to make him admit to some of those feelings out loud, since it's something he says outright in TBOB. I've imagined that he tends to swing between "they were the best/they were the worst" based on how he's feeling at the time with no neutral ground in between—whiiich lines up pretty well with what TBOB gave us.

And unrelated but I spent way too long researching makeup & hair trends in the 70s and in 2013. I had no idea orange lipstick was hot for a while. My idea of doing makeup is painting my nails once every six years.

Hope y'all enjoyed, and I'm looking forward to hearing y'all's thoughts! I've been eager to dive into this aspect of Bill's backstory and Pacifica's POV for a while.)

[nightingale2004]

Gravity falls fandom!

First off. I'm SO GLAD THE fandom has awakened once again, thanks to the Bill book. We've been gone for a VERY LONG TIME AND I'M SO EXCITED TO SEE WHAT HAPPENS NEXT! Also, ALEX HIRSCH!!! THE TRAGEDY!! WHEN THE FANDOM GETS YOOOOUUUU!!!!!

Secondly, we've all read that chapter where Bill saw everyone's dreams. But do you guys think Stanley knew about Dipper and Mabel's parents getting divorced?

Maybe that's why grunkle Stan took them in without question.

Maybe they told Stan and asked him to take in the twins so they could work it out and finalize everything. I'm also thinking that's why Stan was tough on Dipper and tried to toughen him up so he could be there for Mabel when Stan can't, and he could be braver when he goes home, and be a tougher big brother protecter like Stanley was for Ford growing up.

And it's also probably why Stan raised the twins the way he did. He wanted them to be kids and wanted Mabel to have a lot of good memories before reality came to them and their parents finalized their decision.

Do you guys think he told Stanford? Do you guys think grunkle Stan and Dipper have talked about Dipper's parents, and what would happen when he got home? Do you think Mabel consulted Stan about what she knew about her parents? Do you think Soos knows?

Also, I'm extremely intrigued about Wendy's mom, and I can't wait to see the fandoms theories about her.

Thirdly, I want to acknowledge some things about the Gravity Falls show. (I'm binge watching the show). In the episode where we're first introduced to Bill officially, and he goes into Stan's mind to get the code for lil Gideon, we see some of Stan's memories and the part where Dipper sees some of Stan's memories from his childhood. We see that Stan where's glasses and looked a bit like Ford, and when we get the story about the Stan brothers. Child Stanley didn't wear any

Now, here are some questions that have been going through my head.

Did Stanley start wearing glasses when he got older? Did Ford and Stanley take boxing together because of their father? Did Ford ever meet Carla? (I'm pretty sure that was Carla in Stan's memory when he punched the mugger) How did Stanley's parents react to the newspaper of Stanley's "death"?

I've got some questions, guys.

And lastly. I hope we get more Gravity falls content. THIS FANDOM WILL NEVER DIE!!!!!!

Also, guys, we need to make headcanons on what happened to Dipper, Mabel, Wendy, Pacifica, Soos, Stan and Ford, and many other characters as the years go on. I'm intrigued by what you guys are thinking and what's going on with them. I'm also intrigued if you guys have any ideas on how Bill is gonna come back.

Anyway. Enjoy the post. AND LET'S KEEP GOING STRONG GUYS. WE'VE BEEN REVIVED

[matcha-milkies]

LOVE? ACTUALLY?

Summary: In which Mabel and Ford are both aromantic, and neither of them has the vocabulary to express it.

A sequel to “Well, You Did Ask.”

Relationships: Ford Pines & Mabel Pines, Ford Pines & Stan Pines, Bill Cipher/Ford Pines (Mentioned), Pacifica Northwest/Dipper Pines (Mentioned)

Tags: Humor, Family Bonding, Past Relationships, Advice

Word Count: 1,584

Link to AO3: Here

A/N: I once saw a post talking about how Mabel could be aromantic because she seems really in love with the idea of being in love and picks a lot of random people to have crushes on, and as an aro person that felt SCARILY familiar lol so here you go.

Ford is aro gay <3

“Ugh.” Mabel draped herself over the arm of the couch like a piece of laundry, stomach down, long hair flopping. “I can’t believe I’m 15 and still single! I’m never gonna get a long-term boyfriend!”

Ford, who had been preparing himself tea in the kitchen nearby, poked his head into the room, as though to ascertain whether his great niece was talking to him. They were the only two in the shack right now, aside from Waddles, so it was a 50-50 chance. 

Well, maybe 25-75. In Waddles’s favor.

“Grunkle Ford,” she lifted herself a little and drew back the curtain of her hair so that her eyes peeked through, “when did you first get serious with someone?”

Despite being addressed directly, Ford still glanced over his shoulder to make sure there wasn’t anyone behind him, perhaps some alternate-dimension Stanford Pines who was better equipped to answer such a question. “Serious?” He tugged at the collar of his sweater as obscenely equilateral imagery flashed across the backs of his eyelids. “W-Well, I suppose it depends on what you define as serious.”

“I dunno, I guess it’s serious when you both agree it’s serious?” She frowned at the ceiling helplessly before slumping back over the arm of the couch. Her voice came out muffled. “I wouldn’t know. It’s not like I’ve ever been in a serious relationship.”

Tea in hand, Ford stepped more fully into the room, looking about as comfortable as he’d been at his first college party (he’d been dragged there against his will, obviously). Come on, Ford. A few sage words from her great uncle. That’s all she’s asking for. A few times, he opened his mouth to say something and then snapped it shut. Luckily, conversations with Mabel did not require much input from the second party.

“I mean, Dipper is dating Pacifica! For a whole year now! I can’t believe he beat me! How does that even happen?”

Ford chuckled a little to himself, remembering high school, when Stan had teased him for having a girlfriend before Ford did. “Well, Mabel, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone goes at their own pace.”

“Urgh! But I want a boyfriend now! I don’t wanna waaaaaait.” She kicked her feet in agitation. “Is it so much to ask? To have someone in my life who makes me feel special?”

Ford knit his brows and seated himself at the nearby table, setting his mug down. “I understand your frustration, but, Mabel, I…” The man rested his head on his hand for a few moments, contemplating how best to put it. “I fear you’re looking at this all the wrong way.”

She peered up at him, leery. “What do you mean?”

He stirred the metal spoon in his tea, lazily winding it around the ceramic rim. “If all you’re looking for is someone to make you feel special… I worry you might end up with someone who doesn’t have your best interests at heart.”

“Oh, Grunkle Ford, I’ll be fine.”

He had started talking before she even finished her last word. “I’m serious. You have to be careful who you give yourself to. You become so desperate not to feel alone that you-you rush into things blindly, without thinking, without stopping to consider the ulterior motives your partner might have, and before you know it—”

“Hey! I don’t do any of those things,” Mabel protested, even though she very much did do all of those things in that exact order, and also even though Ford had not been talking about her.

“My- My point is,” he went on, taking a steadying breath, “you shouldn’t settle for less. One way or another, you’ll find special people to be in your life. I know it’s not quite what you’re looking for, but you’ve already got a wonderful brother.”

Mabel flopped onto her back and stretched the skin beneath her eye in distress. “But what if he marries Pacifica and I barely see him anymore? I’ll have nobody!”

“Dipper cares for you very deeply, Mabel. I doubt the two of you will ever drift apart.”

“Mmmmm,” Mabel groaned.

“But let’s say hypothetically you did,” Ford proposed. “You’d still have me and Stanley. You’d have your friends, your parents. Waddles, of course. And any number of new friends that you’re going to make in the coming years. I of all people can’t guarantee that relationships won’t fall to pieces. What I do know is that there’s always someone waiting for you on the other side, if you’re willing to let them in.”

“Aww… I guess that is kind of sweet.” She finally rearranged herself so that she was sitting normally. “Say, Grunkle Ford, you never told me about your first serious relationship.”

“I- Oh, you don’t want to hear about that.”

“Yes I do! Come ooooon, I’m so bored! Storytime! Storytime!”

“W- I- Um.”

“Wait.” Mabel narrowed her eyes. “You’re getting all weird the way Dipper does when he has something embarrassing to hide!”

“Mabel, don’t be ridiculous. It’s just not that interesting.”

“What’s not that interesting?” asked a gruff voice from the next room over. A few seconds later, its owner popped in carrying what looked to be groceries in his arm, mostly snacks, fruits and drinks.

“Grunkle Stan! We were just talking about Grunkle Ford’s love life.” She clasped her hands together and batted her lashes.

“What?” Stan raised his brows as he set down his paper bag on the table. “You told her about Bill?”

Ford got up from his chair fully with the intent to commit fratricide. 

“WHAT!” Mabel exploded. “GRUNKLE FORD?!” She glommed onto his leg and anchored him to the ground before he could give chase. Stan wisely moved over to the fridge to look for a few beers. “WHAAAAAT?!”

Ford tried to drag her along. “Mabel! Aren’t you getting a little old to be doing this?”

“No!” She looked up at him with wide, sparkling eyes. “Now tell me everything! Everything! EVERYTHING!” She shook his leg with violence.

Stan popped a couple of bottle caps and extended one of the bottles towards his brother in gesture. “Sixer, if I come over there to give you this, you gotta promise not to try to wring my neck.”

“I can make no such promise, Stanley.”

“Okaaaay then.” Stan, ever the innovator, set the drink on the table instead and slid it over to Ford, who caught it before it could slide off the edge. He eyed it for a moment and then took a few long gulps.

“Mabel,” he sighed, glancing down to find that she was still staring up at him with puppy-dog eyes. “There’s not much to tell! He manipulated me and lied to me and then we blasted him out of Stan’s brain. The end.”

“No, no, no!” Mabel cried. “Tell me when you first realized you were falling in love with him!”

“F- Falling in—” Ford cleared his throat.

The truth was, he’d been “in love” with Bill, in a sense, from that very first moment. But that all made it sound so much more… romantic than it was. It was difficult to explain exactly what he had felt. It was intense, and it was an attraction, and at one point he might’ve thought it was love, but… “I… didn’t,” he finished lamely, as if he were just now realizing it himself.

“Come on, Grunkle Ford, the cat’s out of the bag now! You can’t lie to me anymore!”

“No, I… I really didn’t,” he went on, looking down at his empty hand. “We had a connection. A deep and intimate connection to one another. But I… I don’t think it was anything like what you’re imagining, Mabel.”

“Huh?” she blinked a few times. Even Stan seemed confused as he leaned back against the fridge.

“Hang on a second. Back on the boat you told me you were romantically involved. Those were your exact words.”

“Well, we… were?” Ford himself sounded perplexed, as though he were working out a Rubik’s Cube in real time. Of course, if this were a Rubik’s Cube he would’ve figured it out a lot faster. “At least, that’s what the understanding was at the time…”

“Uh… okay, you lost me.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t really explain it.”

“I think I get it,” Mabel said thoughtfully, and the two grunkles turned to look at her. “You thought you were in love, so you got into a relationship, but you weren’t really in love. But you still loved him. Just not in a lovey-dovey way.”

“I, uh… Well, yes… I think so,” Ford affirmed.

“Yeah, I get it. I think I did that with this guy in freshman year. We really connected, you know! But I realized I wasn’t… in love…” she finished softly, as though she were now the one deep in thought. She snapped out of it with a shrug. “Womp womp.”

“Well, there you have it,” said Stan after taking a particularly long swig. “Hey, Sixer, now all you gotta do is tell Dipper and you’ll be three for three.”

“Stanley, don’t even joke about that. I’m absolutely done talking about this.”

“Awww,” said Mabel, who had really been looking forward to squealing to her twin about it. “Double womp womp.”

“Now will you please detach from my leg?”

“Nope! We’re bonding, baby! Learning each other’s backstories and stuff! Mabel-Ford bonding time!” She threw up her hands like she was on a roller coaster, although her legs stayed wrapped around his ankle. “Woohoo!”

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

blorbos are how we are coping with current events

so uh. here’s a few nice lighthearted gravity falls headcanons for you all (and yes there is a lot of ford centric ones here. no negativity about him on this post, please. preferably not about anyone else featured here either)

-both stan twins are trans. shermie was the first one they told about this, and he’s been immensely supportive of them. he started referring to them as ‘boys’ whenever he could, especially when filbrick was around (‘you boys ready?’ and stuff like that). even though the twins haven’t seen him in a while, and his relationship with ford is a little strained, they both still feel safe around him

-shermie’s daughter, the mother of the mystery twins, is transmascfem. they’ve always been much closer to her than to their father. it was her idea to get a cat, and she let the niblings pick it out. they collectively named it ‘smoky’

-both mystery twins are trans as well. as soon as he knew, stan made damn sure they were aware of his support for them. mabel told ford she was trans before dipper did, and he made sure they both knew he would support them as well

-the stan twins get a ship cat with polydactyl and name him icarus. he was supposed to work as pest control, but ford babied him too much so now he’s just there for emotional support

-upon figuring out how cellphones work, ford took an immense liking to the camera function. he frequently sends stan and the niblings pictures of anomalies, animals, or just cool stuff he finds

-stan keeps his cool when being insulted, but absolutely cannot stand it when the same happens to his family. type of guy to go ‘ok’ when you tell him he sucks, and then turn around and threaten to murder you when you say the same to ford or the niblings

-gideon is an exception. gideon crossed the line with mabel and now stan can’t help but get irrationally angry every time he sees or hears him

-ford isn’t as good at math as people tend to thinks he is, and he is. so anxious about someone finding that out

-ford has maladaptive daydreaming disorder, and so does mabel

-ford initially bought the painting in the attic of a ship in a storm because it reminded him of stan

-melody and soos got a tabby cat and named it metronome. soos chose the name because it was similar in theme to ‘melody’ and cause he thought it sounded cool. melody calls the cat ‘bloop’ and at this point it probably thinks that’s its actual name

-mabel uses exclusively edible glitter due to all the pets in her life (waddles, smoky, icarus, metronome)

-mabel helps pacifica realize that she’s transmascfemneu. this makes pacifica think about things a lot, and eventually she ends up in a qpr with mabel (featuring candy and grenda as wingmen)

-wendy is bigender and enby

-ford nearly cried the first time stan made pancakes after the portal

-it’s become a running bit to call ford anything but his name and at this point he’s just given up on correcting people and chosen to embrace it

-robbie’s first name is actually robin. his friends started calling him robbie when he came out as trans and the name just stuck. he’s still very attached to ‘robin’ though and has no problem being called that as well

-stan repaired his old winter jacket, though he doesn’t wear it any more. ford sometimes does

-because stan runs hot and ford runs very cold, ford has a tendency to come up to stan and hug him under his coat. stan is fine with this, despite his grumblings about ford just doing it to steal some warmth

-ford experiences cuteness aggression to the max, while stan really doesn’t at all. icarus has experienced both threats of being eaten/crushed and ford screaming into his fluff

-icarus has separation anxiety with ford

-stan doodles on ford a lot. the only rule is nothing on his face and do NOT touch the neck tattoo (destroyed as it may be from weirdmaggedon). yes, stanley, the all-star one. get that smug smile off your face- stop laughing-!

-ford’s sleep schedule has significantly improved since getting icarus. this is mostly because he sometimes falls asleep while waiting for icarus to move off his lap (can’t move til the cat does, y’know how it is)

-stan loves loves LOVES sunny cloudy days. they remind him of running across the beach with his brother, and watching the niblings throw water balloons at each other, and hearing his twin laugh as he tells jokes on the stan o’ war ii

-stan had ford custom engrave his lighter. he thinks it looks cool as shit

-ford has made several smoke bombs for stan. he has no clue what he keeps using them for, but he likes building things, so he doesn’t mind

-mabel has set up three music playlists for the stans. one only for ford, one only for stan, and one that’s visible to both where they can both add music

-mabel introduced ford to breakcore and noisecore. she was very surprised that he liked the two genres

-ford is agender and anattractional

-stan’s favorite smells are cinnamon, bergamot, and saltwater

-stan made sure to always have supplies to make brownies and hot chocolate on the ship in case of them need some mood lifting

-ford has a plaid weighted blanket. the cat laying on top of him every night also helps

-ford made sure stan got a good mattress that would work with his back before they set sail. stan argued with him the entire time, but he has been waking up in less pain since then

-ford always ends up hogging the blankets in any bed. more cover = better in his unconscious mind. stan doesn’t really mind too much, but he would like to keep at least one blanket some time

-ford makes a startlingly good seagull impression

[piss-pumpkin]

💐Miscommunication and makeup

Older!dipper pines x reader (chapter 2)

~3.7k words

Prev master list

A/n: I tried hard to avoid gender coding in this chapter, feel free to give me notes idk how I did. Makeup is gender neutral I’ll die on that hill idc

When you woke, it was because of him. A gentle jostling beside you startling you awake. Your eyes were still practically sealed shut, a layer of crust keeping you from opening them. You furrowed your brow as you wiped it away, pressing your eyes tight together.

”Sorry, Y/n,” Dipper whispered. His voice was still hoarse. 

You could only groan in response, rubbing your eyes with such a force that you could see changing colours through the eyelids. As you lifted your head off his shoulder, you immediately felt a pain shoot through your neck.  Perhaps sleeping sitting up with a crooked head was not the most intelligent of ideas. “What time?” you asked groggily.

Dipper stumbled over you to get off the bed, nearly tripping over the edge in the process. Against the odds though, he found his phone. You watched as he tapped the screen, and recoiled slightly from the light.    “Eleven-ish.”

You nodded, and rolled your neck. Whenever it bent to the right you felt an intense cramp. Fun. Still sitting on the bed, head straightened against the headboard now, you looked up at him. “Are you getting up?” you sighed. You weren’t sure you wanted the answer. 

He yawned, stretching his arms above his head. “May as well.” 

Once again, you groaned. “Ugh, fine,” you said, squinting up at him in an almost sour expression. You rolled along out of bed, standing up with him, stretching. 

You started to walk to the door, and noticed Mabel was absent from her bed, and her sheets and blankets were in a pile at the foot. Messy, the same condition you’d left Dippers. He followed behind you, then branched off to stumble almost blindly into the bathroom while you went to find your toothbrush in your bag. Unfortunately, you’d left that bag in the living room, meaning you’d have to speak to people before you brushed your teeth, washed your face, or even truly woke up. 

There were jumbled voices from the kitchen. People were talking, yes, but it was too early to comprehend the words from another room. 

You followed the noise, and found… Pacifica. Her and Mabel were talking at the table.  

When they saw you, they had the same reaction. “Y/n!” They said, nearly in unison. They looked at each other after, mouths open, acknowledging the telepathy.

Pacifica pointed at you, “Y/n, I told you earlier so you better remember, my birthday party tomorrow.”

You thought a moment, then recalled. June twentieth was her birthday. The date had already past, you just missed it when you came here, but lucky for you the party wasn’t on the actual day. “Yes, of course, how could I forget,” you grumbled.

”Great, I’m reminding you that you’re all invited. And you better come early so I don’t have to talk to my parents friends all night.”

“Pacifica, who do you take us for, I personally would never let such a fate befall you.” It was mostly true. You knew how insufferable her family could be.

Dipper walked in behind you. “Oh, the party, right?” He was still groggy, his voice low from sleep, but he looked a lot more awake then he did moments earlier.

Pacifica laughed, “Yes, that.” She turned back to Mabel for a moment before addressing the room. “Just remember it’s a lot smaller then the big annual party you guys always go to, this one’s at my actual house.” She scoffed at herself, and folded her arms across her chest in something close to shame. “So temper your expectations.”

Of course. She lived in a McMansion rather then a full manor, which was incredibly embarrassing to rich people. So much so, that to hide the shame, her family rented out their old house from McGucket for their bigger parties. 

Dipper smiled, “All your family’s parties are huge, Pacifica.” You rolled you neck, again trying to shake the soreness as they spoke.

Pacifica snickered, “Any party worth going to would look huge to you people.”

Dipper shook his head, a smile on his face.

This was all well and good, but you were still sore and gross. “It’s true Dipper, you have no culture,” you said, walking out to go brush your teeth. You heard a faint agreement from Pacifica as you left.

                                              …

As you came back to the living room, you saw Dipper laying back in the chair. 

Dipper perked you as you entered the room. “Oh, hey, Y/n!” He approached you almost hesitantly, and rubbed the back of his neck, “I was meaning to ask you, uh, wanna go to Pacificas party with me, and like hangout and stuff?”

Your mouth fell slightly open in a smile. Was he serious? He was just going for it? Maybe asking you out? Perhaps? It seemed you were wrong in your assumption that he was a coward, maybe he had more balls then you. He was red in the face and fidgeting anxiously. You started to answer but-

“-A-as, uh, friends, of course”

Fuck. You waved your hand and tried to hide any trace of disappointment from your face. “Yeah, of course!” you smiled, “Who else would be my date, Mabel? You fucking know she’s gonna pick like, six hot guys to pine after… and Pacifica has to talk to all her parents friends for half the night, there’s no saving her from that.” 

Dipper laughed lightly, “hard not to feel bad for both of them.” He ran his fingers through his hair a moment, face still flushed. “A-anyway, I gotta go find Mabel,” he stuttered, “see if she’s… alive.”

You squinted, “alright then, go check that. I’m sure it’s… urgent.” 

Dipper nodded, “very.” With that, he left in a hurry, and started upstairs, nearly running.

                                            …

Mabel was leaving her room, having just finished looking through her bags for a party dress. Turns out she forgot to bring one, unfortunately for her. 

It was when she was at the top of the stairs that she saw her brother, red in the face and speed walking towards her, making vicious eye contact. “Ugh, Dip?” She started, but her Dippers glare silenced her. 

He grabbed her by the sleeve and whispered, “Mabel, I’m going to die.”

”Um,” Mabel said, unimpressed. “Okay.” She let him pull her away from the stairs, out of earshot. Mabel was having a time. She was being led by the sleeve by a quite sweaty Dipper into their room. He sat her down, and sighed. “Okay Mabel,” he started, “what I’m about to say can’t leave this room, you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

Right away, this was a tad suspicious. “Uh, that’s-“

”Listen man, you gotta,” Dipper said, starting to pace around the room. “You gotta swear not to tell- you know what?” He turned around and pointed at his sister, “swear on Waddles not to tell y/n, okay?”

Mabel’s eyes widened, and her brow lifted into a curious expression. “God damn dude, okay,” she said, holding out her pinkie for him to shake. He took it gladly, clearly satisfied with himself. “I’m intrigued now, what is it?” She tapped her feet on the ground with restless energy as she sat on her bed, and listened to Dipper.

”Mabel,” he rasped, sounding close to death. “I fucked up really bad, Mabel.” He was pacing around the room anxiously. He was walking in a circle at the centre of the room, and retraced the floor so many times Mabel wondered if his footprints would be embedded in it by the days end. “Mabel I think I’m going to die.”

Mabel couldn’t help smile, and laugh a small laugh. “Okay, my dear brother, do you want to elaborate? Take a deep breath or two and tell me why?” She clapped her hands together at her chin, and pointed at him with them. “Or are we just going to be doing this all day?”

Dipper sighed, and wiped his face. He dragged his hands down his cheeks, pulling and contorting his features as he did it. “I asked Y/n to the party thing,” he said, pupils shrunk and eyes wide. He pressed his hands back to his cheeks, and pushed firming inward, putting as much pressure on his face as possible.

Mabel, depose her brothers dread, gasped. “WHAT?” she yelled, kicking her feet faster, and punching the bed at her sides. “How is that a bad-“

”As a friend,” he said, cutting her off.

Mabels face fell, and she but he inside of her cheek. “Don’t get my hopes up like that again, Dip.”

Dipper shook his head, and waved his hands in front of him. “That’s not the worst of it, somehow,” he said, turning away and covering his face. “I was so awkward about it.”

Mabel looked quizzically at him, but stayed quiet to let him speak. 

“I started out trying to just ask them, not specific if as like, my date or not…” Dipper turned around, red in the face to look at Mabel. “And I did, I did do it. I walked up to them and asked them,” he said, shaking his head. 

Mabel still wasn’t sure how he could have fumbled it. She knew her brother wasn’t the most socially intelligent, but it seemed like he was doing well, according to his story. 

“But I backed out,” he said, hanging his head. “As soon as I said it, I got scared, and before they could even respond-“ Dipper took a deep breath, and threw his hands out in front of him, gesturing wildly to Mabel. “-I said just as friends though, and clammed up, and rushed away, embarrassing myself.”

Mabel winced. It appears her brother did fumble it. “Okay, that’s not great,” she started.

”No it is not.” Dipper paced faster, “And I didn’t even get a chance to see how they reacted, I was so in my head I got no data from this either.”

”Bro, don’t call it data,” Mabel sighed “that’s weird. But uh, yeah, that’s kinda cringe of you.” 

Dipper stopped in front of her, “Thanks Mabel, you’re helpful as always.”

Mabel laughed, and laid back in her bed. “Dude, what do I even say to that! I have nothing to contribute to this situation!”

Dipper sighed. “Yeah… neither would I. 

Mabel left that interaction with a smile. She felt the pity, the empathy, and the undeniable urge to make fun of him, which she decided to do at a later date. She still had to find or make a dress for the party, that came first. 

She was thinking about what to do. She did have money, she could buy a dress from the mall and have fun shopping… but at the same time making one could be fun. Or she could borrow one from Pacifica at a way higher quality… 

Mabel was too deep in the maze of these three conflicting thoughts which seemed to baffle her. So deep in thought that she did not notice you, zoning out in the living room. 

“Mabel!” You said, snapping your fingers to get her attention. “Mabel guess what interaction I just had, that I am mentally recovering from.”

Mabel perked right up, stopping in her tracks. She muttered just quiet enough for you to hear, but not understand, “I don’t think I have to guess.”

”What?” You said, leaning forward in the chair to better hear her. 

“What happened, I said,” Mabel lied, coming in closer. She sat down on the arm of the chair. 

“You know Pacificas party, yeah?” You looked up at her, with a tired and exasperated smile. She nodded down at you, wearing a smile of her own. A smirk though, a knowing one. “Well Dipper asked me to go with him, right?” 

You looked over at her, expecting a reaction. Mabel did her best to feign surprise, every bone in her body wanting to go back on her promise to Dipper. She resisted though, and let you tell the story.

”But before I can even say yes and be all smooth about it, he say just as friends. Ugh. Life,” you say, leaning your head back. “Just as friends, what to think of that.”

”Yikes,” Mabel said. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from saying more.

You took a deep breath, “I guess I should be flattered though, right? Cuz if he asked me as friends, then there’s nobody he wants to go with as more then friends, and I’m his first choice…” you looked over to Mabel, as if seeking confirmation in her big brown eyes. Much to your surprise, they have nothing away. 

Mabel could tell by a look that your mind was racing. 

“Oh god, or maybe he wants to go with me as friends cuz he’s to pussy to ask out somebody else he actually likes.” You whipped your head over to Mabel, your eyes wide with a thought you didn’t believe you were having for the first time. “Wait, do you think he could like Pacifica? Like I know she thinks he’s cute and has like, a thing for him, but… ugh he’d have a huge chance with her…”

Mabel bit her tongue. She did make a promise not to tell… but maybe she could suggest. “What if he likes you, but was too scared to ask you to be his date? Like that’s why he added the whole and friends thing after?”

You thought for a moment. “Hmm,” you thought aloud. “It’s a valid theory, but I’m not sure I like my odds.” 

Mabel sighed, “I think you’re odds are fine, honestly pretty good.”

”I see the possibility, I see the possibility,” you punched Mabel in the arm lightly. “Thanks, uh-“ you stuttered, not knowing if you had to say it. “A word of this to him and you’re dead.”

Mabel sighed, a small smile crossing her lips. “Yeah, I know the drill. Mabel was having a time, best friends with two of the largest idiots she knew.

                                            …

You were headed to Pacificas house, as she offered you free range of her family’s closet for the party. Mabel offered to make clothes with you, or go shopping, but this was easier. And Pacifica was a much busier person then Mabel, and you’d take most opportunities to hangout with her. 

The open road felt good, especially in gravity falls. In a small town like this, the roads were safe and easy, no highways and few mean drivers. Except you, on occasion.

Ford was in the passenger seat, nit picking. “Y/n, you forgot to shoulder check on that turn.”

”I really think that’s not true, actually, you just didn’t see.”

Ford laughed, “you tell the tester that when you go for your N and you’ll fail on the spot.”

You groaned, “Maybe the tester will see how well I shoulder check, and I won’t have to say that.” It was tough life only have a learners license. You were at the mercy of your driving teacher, who was unfortunately not Stan today. You got to break a lot more laws with Stan.

You pulled into Pacificas driveway, met by an impressive McMansion in front of you. It was nowhere near the size of the former Northwest manor, and Pacifica made sure you knew that, but it was still huge. Much larger then your home. Much larger then any home in your neighbourhood, or any other you’d been inside for that matter. 

You got out of the car, and Ford took the drivers seat. “I’d say your driving today was… adequate. It was fine, but you still need a lot of work.”

”I’ll take adequate, that’s still a win” you said, making a W with your hands as you walked backwards away.

”Well no, it’s a D+ grade,” Ford replied, “but I guess that’s a pass these days.” With that, he waved, and shut the door. With a wave back, you turned around to face the home.

The door had a fancy knocker, but you knew if Pacifica knew you thought that was cool, she’d say her old house had giant double doors. She was practically in love with one upping herself. You hit the knocker twice before trying the knob. It was of course, locked. Even though she was expecting you, she still had rich parents.

You heard a lock click, and then there she was. “Heyyy,” you said, stepping inside. You kicked off your shoes, and the floor was cold on your feet. 

“Heyyyy,” she said back. Her hair was pushed back in a thick and poofy hair band. “Come on, let’s have a fucking makeover montage,” she laughed, leading you to her room. Despite her claiming this was a poor person house, you had to ascend large and grand stairs in the foyer to get there.

As you got to Pacificas room, you went to flip down on her bed. Incredibly soft. “What do you mean makeover, I thought I was just getting clothes?”

Pacifica chuckled, and stared to open her walk-in closet, looking at shoes. “I thought that too, but then I had a second thought-“

”That’s impressive, for you,” you cut in.

”Ha, Ha,” she laughed sarcastically. “You say that like you’re any better.” She poked her head out of the closet to sneer at you, and you sneered back happily. “But I was thinking, why stop at clothes?” 

You sighed, and got up to follow her to the closet. “Well alright, what are you thinking then?” you asked, knowing whatever she had planned was inevitable. 

She beamed at you, “The full kit, colour matching, accessories, shoes, makeup, styling… if you want that is…” she trailed off at the end, but her eyes still held hope. As much as it seemed like a lot, why say no? What was the fun in that? 

“Alright, I’m game,” you nodded. As you did, Pacifica practically jumped. “I’m kinda indecisive though, so you lead?”

Pacifica nodded eagerly, “of course.” She bounded over to the clothing wracks and began to rifle through. “You have no idea how fun this will be for me, I love planning outfits for parties.”

”Consider this an extra birthday gift then, I guess. Go wild, I’ll wear whatever.” You followed her, and gazed at the array of fabrics.

She snickered, “in that case, I’ll even do a makeup look for you, all original…ish.” She was still staring at the clothes, looking up at them pondering. “For starters, are we thinking dress or suit, because I have both and both would look hot on you.”

That was a question you had to think very hard about.

As the night went on, she had you try shoes, jewels, and specifically colours to find the perfect combinations. And plus, it was incredibly nice to spend so much time with her, catching up and resuming your friendship after the school-year gap. She was still her. Still a little snobbish, but well meaning, and quite endearing. And for reasons unknown, Pacifica was good  like at this, and when she was done with the clothing and you looked in the mirror, you struggled to think of a time you looked better and it felt this natural. 

“Alright, now that that’s sorted,” Pacifica said, several hours after you started, “Makeup, if you’re still down.

You yawned, it was getting late. “Yeah, alright. Can I stay over?” 

Pacifica laughed, “need you ask? Of course!” 

“Alright, I’ll wash my face and text my aunt,” you said, going to her bathroom. She had some very high end looking facial cleansers. Your aunt Susan was very okay with it, the laid back woman she was. You made sure to thank her. You texted Dip too, letting him know you won’t be able to read with him… if he was even up. You didn’t linger on the phone long enough to see if he was.

Coming back, you were sat on her fancy couch, the kind with one armrest and wood carved legs. She sat at the vanity, looking through her makeup and hair products. “Alright… are you going to do the makeup now, and then again tomorrow for the party?”

”Yeah, I wouldn’t make you sleep in it.” She walked over with a handful of hair things and face things, too many for you to identify any individually. “Same with your hair. Think of today like the trial run, and tomorrow I’ll iron out any kinks… and probably get my makeup artist to do it for you.”

”You have a makeup artist?” you asked as she started to pick though what to do first.

”Yeah, I have to look professional, represent the family, you know.”

”The why get so good at doing it yourself?” She was already applying things to your face, and you didn’t question her methods.

”So I know what I want and what to ask for,” she said. “Like for you, I’ll take a picture of it and just show her, and she’ll do it better.”

You nodded instinctively.

”Hey, hold still!” Pacifica hissed. “I almost smudged shit.”

You hummed a quiet “Mmmhmm, sorry,” tiredly. The best part was when she did your eyeliner, because you got to close your eyes.

When she finished, you looked stunning. You couldn’t rub your eyes, but it was worth it. Pacifica made a few notes on what she did, and took a picture of your face. “Alright, we’re free. I’ll get you some makeup remover.”

”Mmm, thanks you.”

You laid your head back, and shook out the styling from your hair. It had some glitter in it, which fell on the sheets of Pacificas bed. You’d sweep that up later. 

Pacifica came back to find your head on one of her pillows. “Hey, don’t fall asleep yet, don’t get crusty.” 

“Fine,” you muttered. No crusty for you, and you had to be at the best for the party. You laughed to yourself. The best for a bunch of rich people, and your just as friends date. Tomorrow night was set to be interesting, at least. 

Next chapter

Hope I didn’t fem code the reader. Anyway. Pacifica is fun to write for me, I like to put her in whenever I can, even if as a character it’s likely she’d be pretty busy.

[curlyhairedsimp]

Cupid’s Sense? Failed Successfully :)

Mabel starts to see her brother and Pacifica hanging out more so she starts to think they might be secretly dating.

Meanwhile Pacifica is pulling teeth with Dipper on how to woo his sister and sort of get his approval. He meant a lot to Mabel (and she really likes her)

(They are like 16 in this fic.)

Mabel had noticed something strange going on with Pacifica whenever she was around her brother. All three of them would go hang out and Pacifica would make a real effort to get to know them. And by them she really meant Dipper. Mabel even had a list of things Pacifica did to prove it. She had at least 4 reasons.

The first super obvious reason was that Pacifica started to come on their mystery adventures that Dipper took them on. Even though she complained the whole time she kept being helpful. Like making sure Mabel didnt fall behind when running away, catching her before she fell, and she even figured something out before dipper could! She thought that was pretty cool.

The second reason was she had noticed Pacifica arguing with Dipper more. Like there was tension between them and Pacifica always seemed to swallow her words. LIKE SHE DIDNT KNOW HOW TO EXPRESS WHAT SHE WAS FEELING- ehem in Mabel’s humble opinion.

The third reason was cause she was actually being really nice to Mabel herself. She imagined Pacifica thought she needed to get in her good graces. She did tons of nice things for Mabel like taking her out to lunch, listening to her about her art projects, helping her with her art projects, and she takes hours to helps Mabel with her summer homework. Even when Dipper gave up on her for the day! So yeah Pacifica was awesome. Sure she wasn’t straight forward about her intentions and was a little mean in execution but the thought was definitely there.

“So what do you girls think? Dipifica? Pacdip?”

“Uhh I don’t know Mabel. What’s the forth reason?” Candy spoke up and looking at her with her head tiled to the side clearly thinking.

Mabel proudly announced, “My Cupid Sense!”

“Cool! Does it come with the twin thing?”

“Nah that’s just my epic eye for romance!”

“Did you ask Dipper how he felt?” Candy asked with her arms crossed and eyebrow raised.

“Oh come on Candy like he’d admit it!”

“I don’t know Candy I have to go with Mabel here. Dipper always doubles down when it comes to her and Pacifica doesn’t bother with people she doesn’t care about.”

“I don’t know something just doesn’t feel right.”

Candy look to be really contemplating but Mabel knew just what would convince her

“I’ll prove it to you Candy!“

“How?” Grenda asks and Mabel grins.

“You’ll see!”

The “you’ll see” in question was Grenda and Candy following them. By them it’s Dipper, Mabel, and Pacifica who were going to the carnival that was passing by this summer. Mabel has asked Pacifica to come with her and dipper which she jumped at the opportunity. Pacifica looked good when she came and while it was still extravagant it definitely had more of Pacifica’s style in mind. She looked very pretty Mabel admitted to herself. She felt her cheeks get hot at the thought and fanned herself a little bit.

“Is it hot in here or is it just me?”

“Mabel we’re outside in the summer.”

Dipper was giving her a look of judgement. Mabel deflected and turned her head away from him. It’s not like she was gonna say the real reason here!

“Can’t a girl complain? Jeez Dipper.”

Dipper rolls his eyes before mumbling,“whatever”

As Dipper walked away Pacifica put the back of her hand on Mabel’s head and mumbled, “ You don’t feel hot.”

Mabel didn’t know why but her blush deepened.

“O-OH YEAH! I’M JUST EXCITED! HAHA!”

Mabel didn’t know why she was being so loud but it didn’t even seem to startle Pacifica. She just smiled and laughed a little bit.

“We should catch up before Dipper does something dumb again.”

Pacifica actually grabbed her hand like she usually has been doing a lot too recently actually now that she thinks about it.

“Yeah totally-!” Something caught Mabel’s eye a Giant Llama Plushie IN A PINK SWEATER! “IS THAT A LLAMA PLUSHIE?!”

Pacifica was quick to act and take her to the stand. She pulled her hand a little and started walking to the booth before saying, “come on don’t you wanna win the plushie?”

“But what about Dipper-?”

Pacifica cut Mabel off, “He’s a big boy. He’ll be fine. Come on we have a Llama plush to win!”

Mabel didn’t argue with Pacifica and followed her without much resistance. Pacifica paid for her turn and got it first try for Mabel. Mabel squealed in excitement in receiving the plush. It was one of those stupid knock down the pins but clearly were extra glued to the wood. Grunkle Stan taught her how to notice those tricks and Pacifica had a really good arm also great aim. They had run around a couple stalls cause Mabel had seen a few more things she liked. Pacifica managed to get each one she wanted.

“These are so cute! Thank you Pacifica!”

Pacifica got a little embarrassed started to play with her gloves when she got shy.

“It was nothing…You taught me the stupid tricks.”

“Yeah but I have noodle arms compared to you! Didn’t you start softball last summer? You must have gotten better!”

“I’m gonna be team captain next year.”

Pacifica said proudly and confident like she had no doubts in the world. Mabel always thought that Pacifica speaking that way was something she admired about her.

“I bet you are-! Wait! Oh crap! Dipper!”

They had left him behind ages ago!

“The knucklehead is over there talking to Wendy.”

Mabel looked to where Pacifica was talking about and yeah Dipper was talking to Wendy. Dipper had stopped crushing on Wendy last summer but he still admired her. She was really cool still. Mabel was worried at Pacifica might not know that and it bothered her. What if Pacifica got her feelings hurt cause Dipper is an idiot and can’t figure out his feeling?!

“DIPPER! LOOK AT WHAT PACIFICA WON ME!”

She put the Llama in Dipper’s face getting him away from Wendy and she looked back to see Pacifica was smiling. Which made her smile.

“Ugh Mabel! Get it out of my face! I can see it!”

“But she’s so fluffy Dipper! And Pacifica was so cool!”

“Oh yeah? The little west got you the plushies?”

“Yeah! She knocked down the pins like bam! In one go and her got so much better!”

“Oh yeah little west must have spunk. Maybe she’d like to go wood cutting. Good exercise for the arms and we can see how strong she is.”

Pacifica made a face and was about to speak up but Mabel had spoke up first.

“Oh my gosh yes! We can all were match lumber jack outfits so we can fit in and look cool like Wendy! Pacifica please come!”

Mabel was practically begging and completely forgot about her initial plans. Pacifica looked up and sighed before looking back at Mabel.

“Fine but we’re going shopping together.”

“DEAL! This is gonna be so fun!”

Mabel was hugging Pacifica and practically jumping for joy. Before she realized she was hugging Pacifica and how nice she smelled. And she hugging Pacifica. She felt her face to bright red and she pulled away from her quickly. When she realize Pacifica cheeks were a little red and she was looking away. When Mabel turned her head Dipped had a smug look on his face.

“What was that?” Mabel said feeling a little sour.

Dipper looked at her and said, “Nothing.”

Mabel liked that answers less but before she could complain Wendy pointed out that they should probably head home before Stan or Ford comes to look for them. Before they managed to leave the park Grenda and Candy were waiting for them at the entrance. Which admittedly Mabel forgot they were following her today.

“Northwest. Bring my sister home safe.”

“She’ll be brought back happy and healthy.”

“Huh what? Aren’t we going home together?”

“Nope. I’m gonna walk Candy and Grenda home. Then I’ll see you at the Shack. Mabel do Pacifica a favor and listen to what she’s gonna say.”

Dipper put a hand on her shoulder while saying that before lightly patting it and leaving with her other friends. She was left in confusion and Pacifica clearly was anxiously messing with her gloves again. Which made her feel really bad.

“Ugh Dipper is such an idiot! How could he just not even notice that you like him?! Leaving me with his crush and-“

Instead of Pacifica getting upset with her. She took off her gloves and shoved them in her pocket. She gently took both of Mabel’s hand holding them almost preciously.

“Mabel… I uh- I don’t really know how to say it.”

She breathed in a looking actually scared. That struck something in Mabel since Pacifica was a naturally confident person even in distress. She really should listen to Dipper sometimes.

“Hey i-it’s okay! I’m a really good listener!”

Mabel tangled their fingers more to comfort her.

“Just listen Mabel. Don’t cut me off.” She shot her a weak glare and Mabel nodded seriously. Cause she can be serious. “I don’t like Dipper.”

“But I thought-” Pacifica glared, “Sorry. Sorry.”

“I like you. Like actually like like you.” That made Mabel’s jaw drop but Pacifica kept speaking, “A-And I know you might not like me back. I’m not the kindest or most compassionate person. I’m really bad talking about my feelings and I can be really mean to you-”

Mabel tried to be romantic and cut Pacifica off by kissing her but she ended up hitting her braces to her teeth. Which ouch.

“I-Im sorry! I didn’t mean to- are you okay?!”

Pacifica uncharacteristically broke out into a fit of giggles which relieved Mabel. Pacifica looked actually relieved though.

“I-If you want still w-we can try again. I’ll be more careful. Promise! Only if you want to-!”

Pacifica this time kissed her and it was perfect. When they separated felt like she saw stars.

“Here I was nervous that my hands were sweaty.”

“Does this mean I can kiss you whenever I want?!”

Pacifica giggled a little and nodded her head putting their foreheads together. “You can kiss me whenever you want.”

“Really?! Does this mean we’re girlfriends?!”

“Yeah… I think it does.”

“Heck yeah! I got a girlfriend before Dipper!”

That made Pacifica snort and Mabel thought it was adorable but Pacifica made her promise not to mention it in front of other people. Which soon after they went back to the shack. Mabel got left at the door step since Pacifica said if she came in now Mabel would definitely tell everyone they’re dating the minute they got inside.

“But can’t I tell people that we’re dating?”

“I wanna take you out on our first date before that… I-I wanna do it properly or something.”

“Ah shucks! You’re making me feel all special.”

Pacifica smiled at her and tucked a strand of Mabel’s hair behind her ear with a little smile.

“That’s the point. I’ll see you next time.”

She kissed Mabel’s cheek before saying goodbye and Mabel went into the shack absolutely swooning. Dipper was there with that smug look from the carnival. She gave her brother one good look before she threw her arms around him rubbing their cheeks together.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!”

“Never suggest I like Pacifica Northwest again.”

“But we’re twins Dipper you can’t tell me you don’t find her gorgeous and cool!”

“Get off! No way!”

“Liar! Liar! Pants on fire!”

(Author’s Note: I was thinking about getting The Grunkle’s react along with her friends I told you so. Or at least Candy’s. Maybe do another one about their first date if this does well)

[princesspastel8]

Chapter 1: Gravity Falls

Dipper POV

I stare out the window, holding the note Wendy gave me that day 12 years ago. After so long, those years of endless torture from my family, I can finally be free.

No, we can finally be free.

Bill....

Oh, how I missed that damn dream, demon. Years of planning and years of research. The moment weirdmaganen ended and gravity falls was back to normal, something in me felt off. I couldn't stop thinking about Bill.

All I wanted was Bill. The moment he took over my body filled me with so much desire when I got my body back. It's as if he left a piece of himself inside of me. A permanent reminder that I would always be his.

But of course, I was too young and stupid to understand such feelings. Those feelings for Wendy were my hormones raging for some form of attraction for anything that looked appealing. And Wendy took the cake.

I watch as the trees fly by the window of the bus. I yawn, taking a glance at Mable, who is bouncing in her seat next to me. For someone who's 25 years old, she sure still acts like a 13 year old.

Nothing really changed since the two of us left. I grew facial hair and gained a few inches over mable. Came out as gay to my parents, who completely disowned me. Mable was hardly ever in the picture during that time in my life. She was always out partying or hooking up with some guy.

But of course, she was always everyone's favorite. She lacked the awkwardness I gained that should have been equally split between the two of us! Honestly, I hate claiming her as my twin at times.

Her personality stayed the same as well. Still as selfish and naive as ever, which comes in handy at times. We grew distant when I started to change. I felt my personality grow darker compared to her sunshine and rainbows one.

People grew eerie of me by the time I turned 16. Rock music became my best friend, but I wasn't a punk rock emo gothic freak. Those depressed waste of space really piss me off. Maybe that's why I hated Robbie so much. All the fake angst and unnecessary anger grew annoying and out of place, in my opinion. Hopefully, he grew up and gained some balls since I've been gone.

The bullying at school ended once I learned how to fight and throw knives. Knives became my most favorite thing in the world. The sharp yet light blade, the different types of beautiful leather handles. I brought my whole collection with me.

Oh, I guess I forgot to mention I'm moving here. Coming out as gay to my parents while also adding that I'm not going to college really added to the hatred they now shared for me. But it didn't bother me, I left a little gift for the both of them under their bed. I guess I won't be hearing from them for the rest of my life. I chuckle to myself at the thought.

Mable looks at me, tilting her head to the side. "What's funny dip n dop?"

I jump, my smile now in a thin line, "Something you wouldn't understand, Mable."

"Oh, come on, Dipper! You never say anything to me!" She whines while shaking my shoulder aggressively.

One of the things I made clear to Mable over the years is to never touch me. I turn my head to look down at her frame, glaring into her eyes. "Don't. Touch. Me." I said through my teeth.

Mable quickly pulls away and looks down, nuzzling her head against waddles. "S-sorry Dipper. I always forget...."

I roll my eyes but smile and flick her forehead. "Whatever, cheer up. We're here."

Mable looks out the mirror and cheers, already up from her seat and running to the double doors of the bus. And I'm left with the bags, no surprise there. I carry my things on my back while placing her bags under my arms.

I walk off the bus with a sigh, still carrying our bags. Mable is currently in a group hug with Candy and Grenda. I notice Wendy patting her head with Robbie standing beside her. I raise an eyebrow at the rings on their fingers. I'm trying my best to hold back laughter. Those two got married?!

I glance back to Mable and see Pacifica. Her blonde hair is so bright that it's blinding. Standing next to her is Gideon. They didn't look much different, but at least gideon ditched that stupid suit. I finally noticed Soes and my Grunkles. Stan looked the same, but Stanford seemed to age a bit. Maybe stress from researching too much.

"Oh guys, I missed so you Much! And I'm so happy for you two!" Mable cheers, looking at Robbie and Wendy.

Robbie scratches the back of his head as a light blush tents around his cheeks. He looks down, pouting. "Whatever."

"Lighten up, Rob. And thanks, Mable. Never thought I would fall for him again. A lot has changed."

I chuckle, shaking my head at her words. "Damn right it has."

All eyes are on me now. I raise an eyebrow, shrugging my shoulder. "What?"

"Is that really you, Dipper Pines?" Gideon asks in shock.

"Oh wow, Dipper, nice glow up." Pacifica winks.

"Heh, you're finally taller than Mable. Congrats, man." Wendy said, walking over to me for a hug.

I laugh and hug back the best way I could since I'm carrying all of our bags. "Thanks, I guess."

"Kid finally got some muscle!" Stan cheers while patting me on my back. Stanford nods his head and smiles.

"Well, why are we just standing around here for? We have a surprise for you two, my dudes." Soos said while walking forward towards the mystery shake.

Once, Soos opens the door, Mable and I are greeted by cheers of happiness. "WELCOME BACK MYSTERY TWINS!"

Mable rushes in and hugs almost everyone while I stand there and simply wave. The party starts right after we arrive. I sigh, walking up the stairs with Stanford behind me.

"So how have you been, Dipper? Are there any plans for college?"

I shake my head, opening the first door to Mable's and I old room. "Nope. I see no reasoning in college when I'm one of the most bright minded people in this world. College would just be a waste of my brain and time." I said, ending with a yawn.

"You have a point, but having a college degree makes job seeking easier." He pointed out. "And by the way, this will be your own room. Mable has the other room across the hall."

I roll my eyes. Of course, she gets the bigger room - the same room we fought over that day. I smile, dropping my bags near my old bed. "That's great! Thanks, grunkle Ford."

"No problem. I am looking forward to making new discoveries with my great nephew again." He smiles and pats my shoulder. "I'll meet you back downstairs." He said while walking out.

I hum as I unload my things, fixing my room up to my liking. It didn't take long. All I have are my books, journals, knives, and necessities. I walk to Nable's room and throw her bags on the bed. This really is unfair, and it's getting under my skin.

I walk down the stairs, digging my nails into my skin while scratching my arm too hard. I grab a soda from the table and take my place in a corner of the room. While I observe everyone, I notice Pacifica glancing at Mable from time to time. I chuckle, taking a sip of my drink. I knew she had a thing for my twin sister. That'll come in handle one day.

I look to my right, catching Candy and Gideon staring at me. They both quickly turn their heads, faces covered in blush. Does Candy still have that stupid crush on me? Ugh, that'll be annoying, but what's the deal with Gideon?

Candy begins to walk towards me, her smile determining but her eyes nervous. "Hello, Dipper."

"Hm." I said, taking another sip of my drink.

"So how have you been these past years? Have a girlfriend, maybe?"

I chuckle, looking down at her. "Cutting right to the chase, huh?"

She blushes and laughs. "How can I not? You've grown extremely attractive since I last saw you."

"It's called puberty candy. And I was 13 the last time you saw me. I'm 25 now."

She nods her head, "Yes....so I was wondering... now that we both matured..if you wanted to give us a try?"

I try my best to hold back my laughter. Gideon stared at us the whole time, jealously. Hurting her feelings would bring joy, but I can't give my true self away.

"Sorry to break it to you, Candy, but I don't swing that way."

Her eyes widen as if they're being squeezed out of her eyesockets. "YOU'RE GAY?!" She shouts loud enough for everyone to hear.

I sigh heavily, all eyes on us. I did not want this type of attention. I didn't want the whole town knowing I enjoy dick up my ass. That's none of their business. Now I'm regretting not telling her in the harshest way that even if I weren't gay, and if she was the last woman on earth, I'd rather die than to be left alone in her presence.

"You're what Dipper?" Wendy asks a bit taken aback herself, which is understandable.

"Oh wow, dude. Never thought you'd go that way." Soos pips in.

Pacifica didn't seem like she cared. I'm pretty sure it's because of her secret as well. Gideon, on the other hand, looks hopeful. The thought of hooking up with him actually makes my flesh crawl.

I chug down the rest of my drink, crushing the can with my hands. This was so annoying and stupid. "Yes, I'm gay. It's 2019 people. Keep up with the times, and if you have a problem with it, then -" I was cut off by a loud phone ringing.

Stanford and grunkle Stan shake from their shock, and Stan picks up the phone. "What is it?" He answers rudely.

"Yes, that's me. Now that do you -......what?!" He shouts, his eyes filling with dread and grief. "Ok....Thank you. Bye."

Stan ends the phone call, pulling Stanford to the side. He told him whatever the news was, his demeanor shifting. My gunkles turn to both me and Mable, who looks really worked up. "What is it grunkle Stan? What's the matter?" She questions.

"Kids....there's no good way I can say this but, you're parents are dead. A bomb was placed under their bed, and it went off the moment they both laid down....the police have no idea who could've done this. The house is completely destroyed.

The shack is filled with gaps and apologetic expressions towards the Pines family. Mable breaks down into tears, falling to her knees. I force myself to look as hurt as I can. I reach down to lift Mable up, trying to calm her down. Luckily, her friends helped.

Once the news settled, and everyone left, the party is shut down. Robbie, Wendy, Pacifica, Candy, Grenda, and Gideon offer to stay and help clean while Mable, and I head to bed. Mable wishes me goodnight, pulling me into a tight hug.

My face remains blank, but I hug her nonetheless. "Just get some rest tomorrow, mable. They're find who did that to our parents.."

Lies.

She nods her head and pulls away. She walks into her room as I do the same. I sit down on the edge of my bed, reaching for one of my journals. Before I can open it, the door to my room opens. I quickly place it under my blanket, turning around to face who's at my door. It's just my Grunkles.

"Hey Dipper, how are you holding up?" Stan asks while sitting to my right.

I nod my head, staring at my hands.

Stanford sits to my left, rubbing his hand up and down my back in a soothing motion. "We know you're trying to stay strong for Mable, but it's alright to cry."

What am I, five? I nod my head as tears begin to fall. "Wh-who could have done this?" I ask, my voice cracking.

Stanford and Stan pull me into a hug as I sob. "It's ok, Dipper. You and Mable will stay with us. We're here for you guys. Everyone is." Stanford said.

I nod my head, pulling away from the both of them. "Th-Thanks you two....but I would like to be alone right now."

They both nod their heads. "We understand, Dipper. We all need time, and it's ok that you're gay. We still love you the same." Stan said before standing and leaving the room.

"If you need us, we'll be downstairs." Stanford said.

I nod my head, watching them leave. I stand and walk to my door, locking it. I rush to my bed and jump in it, pulling out my journal from under my blanket. I lay on my back, opening the journal. Tears still falling from my eyes, I gently glaze my hands over the first page. Bill's circle. I feel my frown quickly stretch into a smile as I turn to the second page, Bill's human form.

Oh, how he looks so godly. How tan he is, that damn bright yellow tux. Those sparkling locks of hair that I could run my fingers through all day. His twisted smile, I can just hear his laugh bouncing inside my skull.

I place the journal on my chest as I start to laugh. I start from chuckling to heavy cackling. I place a hand over my mouth so my laughter won't be heard throughout the shack. The rush of soon seeing Bill taking completely over me. I slowly close my eyes, thinking of the little song he used to play.

Don't know where

Don't know, wheeeeeen~

Til we meet again...

"Some sunny day...."

"Haha! See ya soon, Pinetree!~"

[sketchfanda]

A Little Moxxie Love Party 4

Naughty Northwest

Pacifica Northwest was a girl who seemed like she had it all and who wouldn’t think that when seeing her fsr as first impressions go? Stunning good looks, obscene wealth, sensual charisma to name a few of her traits and qualities that could come to mind but more so because she earned it all. Oh sure she’d been born rich but circumstances saw fortunes change thanks to karma catching up to her family’s infamous, notorious reputation for being liars, cheats, thieves and con artists and she damn well made sure to earn her way back up. By being tougher, sharper and smarter as a certain wise,old duck had once done and now here she was back to living it up large and in charge.

And Christ was she so damn bored but when you accomplished what she had at a young enough age and had so much money and free time, that was the last thing you needed. As she lounged about in her cozy little private home, which was she had to say far more modest than the old Northwest estate (No ghosts for one, Gravity Falls was still that sort of town), she pouted as she struggled to think of how to kill her boredom. She wasn’t feeling in a gaming mood at the moment and she didn’t feel much like socialising especially when it came to dealing with the simps. And tempting as it was, her little secret collection of Skullfuck productions skinflicks didn’t have anything to suit her fancy.

As she idly browsed her phone out of boredom, she found a peculiar little exclusive fans only post from one of her favourite cam girls, Jacqui Herron. Tapping it open as she gave it a read over, the bleach blonde valley girl looking debutant found herself humming in inquisitive curiosity at the information before her as she decided then snd there she might have just what she needed to kill her boredom and scratch her itch. One quick secret set up of her web cam to record this for personal viewing enjoyment along with following he instructions and Pacifica found herself looking over the set up for a very familiar ritual, clad in a fluffy pink bathrobe as she closed the curtains and began lighting candles. Ominous crimson smoke filling the room like a mist as she chanted in Latin before reaching the central master candle and in a flash of demonic light, there stood her newfound company within the centre of the inverted pentagram circle.

Moxxie had a distinct sense of deja vu as he found himself, suit and adorable little bow tie and all and a magazine in hand as he been in the IMP office not too long ago. Sighing as he realised he’d been summoned, again (and wondering just how people in the living world were getting this and why always him?), he looked to whoever called him up this time only to pause as he laid eyes on Pacifica. Who quite frankly wasn’t looking impressed, no doubt she had some high expectation and based on first impressions alone, they weren’t being met. But the bombshell blonde simply pouted, shrugging her shoulders as she decided, screw it, might as well make the most of the time she just got herself.

Pacifica:"Alright shorty, you know the drill I figure so here's how it is...I'm bored, I'm horny and I need a good itch scratching. So until otherwise, your hornhead little tailed ass is mine, got it?" *Moxxie seemed used to taking verbal lashings, given he just simply nodded though Paz had to say, it was quite flattering how he never took his eyes off of her. And she hadn't even shown him the goods yet so maybe the night wouldn't be a total loss.*"Alright then.....well, what're you waiting for, an invitation? You're polite enough anyway..."*The valley girl debutante quipped in a teasing snarky manner as she undid and peeled open her robe, flashing her immaculately tanned body, the only noticeable tanlines hinting her choice in racey swimwear. A sly grin on her face at the absolutely stunned expression on the imp's face, sensually purring as she teased him, unaware how soon she'd find the tables turned on her.*"What's the matter little guy? Never seen perfection up this close? And yes, this is 100% all natural.....care to taste it?"

Before the immodest bombshell knew it however, she soon found herself screaming and moaning her head off as she filled her bedroom with the sounds of her cries of ecstasy. Barely forming sentences as her tanlined, toned curvy body was glistening with sweat, thrashing and squirming as she held onto Moxxie's horns for dear life. Tempted to but not wanting to push him away as his demonically gifted mouth worked its magic on her slit, his imp tongue slithering about to drink away at her glowing juices. The moment he began making out with her snatch to start things off, Pacifica had started to realise she was getting much better than promised or expected, she was having an experience temtping enough to make her want to sell her soul!!

An insane thought certainly but if it meant being this little Casanova's love slave for eternity, why the fuck not, right?!! Her long blonde mane flowing as she felt orgasms rock her every nerve from head to toe, the sheer bliss and euphoria making her soul want to be raptured. Only to pout as the talented little imp stopped, wanting him to keep going only to find herself gluing her gaze to him stripping out of his suit....her jaw dropping at the full exposure of a set of cock and balls, that length and girth making her pussy quiver and gush as it made a siren call to have that thing utterly destroy her and knock Paz up with his demon babies. And she found herself being just fine with that, spreading her legs in eager anticipation .

But ooh soon as that fuckhammer was penetrating her, Pacifica found her mind being blown with inch after inch of Moxxie’s demon dick sinking into her snatch’s lusty embrace. Her tight toned stomach growing a bulge from how deep that length and girth was reaching but as soon as those heavy red balls were pressed againsther bubble butt, that was when he really got going. If this is what Verosika Mayday meant about being taken to Bonetown, then she was damn well buying herself a place on Satisfaction Avenue as she screamed her head off from Moxxie pounding her like a jackhammer as he had her in a mating press. Wrapping her arms and legs around his small but quite well toned, built little frame as she didn’t want to lose one bit of their intimate lewd connection as she felt his pelvic thrusts deepen in their intensity.

Her secret webcam of course was catching every lewd detail of this primal tryst, from the glistening sheen of Pacifica’s sun tanned to her expressions of mind numbing bliss. Tits bouncing snd asscheeks clapping as she moaned deeply while being taken in a variety of positions. From the animalistic sensations o being taken doggy style as Moxxie mounted and pounded her to clasping hands intimately as she bounce and rode him cowgirl style, pink glowing hearts in her eyes. The bleach blonde valley girl debutante falling in equal parts lust and love with the sweet possum rocking her world as their marathon fucking showed no signs of stopping.

Her bedsheets soaked with sweat and juices, the creaking of bedsprings as Pacifica didn’t want to stop, even as her body began to feel numb and deliciously sore all over. Moaning deeply as she urged Moxxie to be as rough and dominant as he liked from pulling on her long blonde mane to squeezing her tits or smacking her ass, every assertion of such alpha male authority making the living Barbie doll feel like a total Moxxie-Holic bimbo. Every inch of that big red imp cock putting any and every toy she had to shame as she felt her brain drown in blissful ecstasy, visions of having babies from this demonic little sex god taunting her. And she was damn sure going to see to it he gave the same treatment to her mouth and her asshole because a cock like that wasn’t going to tap her hot body without the grand trifecta of her slutty holes.

Paz of course was thankful she’d gotten the larger sized master candle, ensuring she would have herself a whole night of fun with Moxxie as they continued to fuck all the way to sunrise. The blondie babe holding the sweet possum like a plush toy as she snuggled with him, basking in the afterglow as her bedroom looked like a wrecking crew tore it up. Idly making out with him as they parted on good terms with Pacifica giving him her contact details for future reference before the ritual inevitably ended as the master candle finally snuffed out. The blonde valley girl already missing her demonic lover boy as she went on over and turned off her webcam to cut off her secret marathon stream, mentally planning out when she should do it again sometime.

Deep within the circle of Lust at the studio of lot of SkullFuck Productions meanwhile, a certain floating flaming skullheaded boss man was checking out said video from Pacifica in his submissions inbox, always in the lookout for potential stars. Suffice to say Mr.Sketch only felt his ongoing desire to recruit Moxxie increase when he recognised him in the Northwest’s girl’s amateur movie, how was it this little possum could be so close yet so far in all of Hell? But he was damn well sure going to see to it he’d have this imp as his next big star….and that blonde would make a good regular scene par for him for sure, demon on human woman porn was always among his best sellers. For now his search would continue but he didn’t care if it would take Hell freezing over until he finally had Moxxie in the fold, an imp like this only came along once in a lifetime.

Moxxie in the meantime of course, unaware of the wheels of fate that were turning for him, was busy settling back into his personal routines after his little summoning sessions with Pacifica. The valley girl bombshell girl having waste no time in sending him saucy texts and sexy nudes to express how much she missed him and wanted his sweet hot demon love again. Much to Millie’s approval of course as she took to grilling her man for details on his latest new sex friend of course. Nothing got her going more than hearing about her Moxxie tap some hot pretty thing’s sexy ass, what can he say, Millie was a goddamn pistol…..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Red Hot Night!

It had all seemed to be going simple enough for the resident happy couple in Hell with them making a visit to Betty Boop, seeing how the flapper babe had been doing since her little round of erotic magic with the sweet possum a while back. Especially to check up on her and the product of that little union that was Bendy, with the adorable little scamp definitely seeming like he’d have a talent and bright future in comedy but while Moxxie was enjoying some bonding and quality time, Millie couldn’t help but notice that Betty seemed distracted and it wasn’t because of the cute little tyke. Of course the stunner eventually confided in as she revealed her concerns for her friend, a feisty gal by the name of Red Hot Riding Hood who’d been acting as Betty’s replacement for performing at the club while she was taking her maternity leave. It seemed Red had been going through a bit of a rough patch with her new ex-boyfriend, a fellow by the name of Wolfie and Betty was worried that it was all too clear she wasn’t completely over the guy which was something he was sure to take advantage of to get her back in his arms.

Now he was a grade a creep, who flirted with anything with a pair of breasts so small wonder why the concern but Millie knew that the best way to get over one man, is to get under another especially when the former was a total sleazy chump. So that was how Moxxie found himself going alone to the club that evening just in time for the start of her performance and Red dances, Moxxie can’t deny she's a babe. Having that crowd in the palm of her hand, jaws dropping, heads turning and talk about a set of kings with that singing voice. It was a real work of art for an aficionado of performance and theatrical arts like himself.

After her show completed its performance run, the intermission for next act was underway, a perfect chance for Moxxie as he made his way backstage to meet Red at her dressing room, a bouquet in hand as he introduced himself to her as a fan and a personal friend of Betty. As the two get personally acquainted, Millie kept Wolfy occupied by intercepting him on his way to the club, binding and gaggin him up to keep him out of the way with Little Bendy using the canine lech as a personal punching bag. The kid had some future in slapstick if the barrage of cartoon violence on Wolfy was anything to go by, that’s for sure. And meantime welt us check back in on how Millie’s charming possum of a husband is doing in winning Red over with his natural charms.

Pretty damn well as a matter of fact Red decided it would be best to have some fun with the imp boi but to say he was quickly blowing her ex and any man she had in the past out of the water was an understatement. The performing beaut filling her dressing room with the melodic deep moans pouring forth from her luscious lips as she laid back in her luxury reclining couch, her silky legs draped over the imp’s small but quite firm shoulders. As Moxxie was kneeling on the floor, his horns clutched in her hands as he was eating her out, his hot breath and skilled tongue probing away at her slit. Drinking up her juices as they seeped into his waiting mouth, every orgasmic tingle fuel for the fires of arousal stirring inside her before she soon decided she needed that big red imp dick inside her.

But of course as Moxxie soon found his clothes gone flying off of him, the sight of his quite gifted and well endowed naked body proceeded to flip some major switches in Red’s brain. Proceeding to pounce on and pin the little Casanova demon down as as She also revealed a bit of a kink she had for going through her different personas, costumes and accents. To which she can change on the dime thanks to being a toon, suffice to say Moxxie had a feeling he was going to be in quite a wild ride with Betty’s horny lady friend. But hey, the things a guy does for a lady friend right?

Red”Heeey daddy, you better get the very best of meeeee!!” *The feisty redhead bombshell sang sensually, mind numb with pleasure as hugged Moxxie’s sweet crackled face to her bosom. Legs wrapped around his waist as he pumped and thrust into her missionary style, crimson high heels digging into the skin as her dress laid discarded. Her moans mixing with the heavy wet smack of his balls against her jiggling booty and making her juices splash with every impact.*”Oooooh daddyyyyyyyy…..”*She sang melodically and erotically as that big red imp cock really began to hit some sweet spots, making her arousal skyrocket with each orgasmic tingle.* “Put your arms around me daddy, hold me tight!,”

Before Moxxie knew it of course, he soon had Red riding him cowgirl as she was rocking Native American look, her moans sensual and melodic as her bubbly booty clapped with every impact of their loins. Then taking her from behind as she wore quite a saucy nurse’s outfit, hearts glowing in her eyes as she felt the seemingly endless onslaught of orgasms rocking her body one after the other. Her dressing room starting to look like a tornado was running through it with every passing second and minute of her rut with Moxxie. Showing no signs of stopping as the imp was as skilled as he was addictive for the redhead.

Betty of course stood outside the dressing room door to ensure that nobody would disturb the pair and interrupt their marathon of intimacy, the flapper girl peeping through a narrow gap. Looking on with voyeuristic sensual delight as she was reminded of her own fateful erotic encounter with Moxxie. Nerves tingling with phantom sensations from the raw thrill, biting her lower lip to suppress her moans as she watched Red in her cowgirl get uo being folded in a mating press. Fantasising herself in her friend’s place as her body expressed a desire in possibly giving Bendy a little brother or sister in the future.

All the while Red was now going through her ensembles from Swing Shift Cinderella, her orgasmic howls and moans of passion mixing quite splendidly with her melodious a singing voice as Moxxie continued putting her ex to shame. Her usual musical number now going “Ooooh Moxxie” instead of “Ooh Wolfie” as she kissed and made out with the sexually talented imp, lips and tongues dancing together as she took it in a sideways spooning position. Her ex becoming a very distant memory being put to shame in terms of sexual prowess as that big red length and girth continued to pump away. Her snatch holding onto that red imp cock, not wanting to lose the erotic connection and the sensation of being so well penetrated as it overflowed with an excess of mixed juices.

In the end, the dressing room looked demolished from how wild and passionate the pair had been going at it, as they laid there together on the floor. Intimately embracing as they basked in the afterglow, Betty smiling softly at seeing her bestie having more than enjoyed herself as she left to go tell Millie the good news, that it’s after a quick bathroom trip to scratch her itch because damn her thighs were soaked right now. Meanwhile of course Millie was busy cheering Bendy on as the little spawn of Moxxie and Betty’s one night wailed on Wolfie like he was a piñata. The kid definitely had a future in slapstick comedy, that was for sure.

After that little dressing room romp of course, once she recovered, Red had insisted on having another round with Moxxie back at her place. Betty of course invited herself along, leading to a wild threesome all nighter, Red’s apartment echoing with their passionate cries. Suffice to say, the showgirl was more than happy to want in on the kinky little inner circle her bestie was part of, with Millie’s personal approval of course. As for Wolfie, we’ll he as going to be counting the ceiling tiles in his hospital room for quite some time, Bendy had really done a number on him.

After their passionate encounter of course, Betty wasn’t too surprised when Red had to take some time off from the club for maternity leave. With how raw and thorough the bombshell had been with Moxxie, it was no wonder she’d wound up becoming knocked up. Red was looking quite forward to seeing how adorable the baby would look when they were born or better yet if she might be having twins. But there was no doubt for certain the little tyke to be would be best pals with their half brother Bendy for sure.

In the meantime, Moxxie and Millie returned back to their little slice of Hell as the thespian possum hummed to himself, eyeing a certain business card. Debating if he should call the number on it as as he had some reservations, wondering if he could really even go through with it. On the one hand, it would make some extra cash to cover IMP’s expenses and keep them in the black but on the other, Could he really be so bold as to do such a job like work in porn? Well at the rate of the way things were going, he had feeling it was a worthwhile choice he’d soon have to make

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Mamaca Carmilla

There were times a guy had to wonder if his life just consisted of being the punchline to a constant barrage of jokes and for the resident sweet possum we know as Moxxie, that had to be a natural fact. Especially when finding himself in the personal headquarters of Carmilla Carmine, the weapons making overlord herself and why might you ask was our dear little thespian here of all places? Well you can thank his boss for that, who had the dumb idea of thinking their business could improve if they got their hands on some premium hardware. And who had the best weaponry around than the overlord who managed to get her hands on angelic steel every post extermination day?

Now Moxxie was lucky at least he managed to talk Blitzo down from actually even thinking of trying to steal from the arms dealer herself but this somehow lead to him being chosen to go make an appointment with the woman herself and use his “natural charm” to persuade her to give them a discount. Though Moxxie knew that would be a bit of a stretch given he knew Blitzo’s thoughtless spending had put them in some major debts…at this rate he wondered if he might have to call the number in that card Nika had provided him a while back. But that was neither here or there for the time being especially given what said card was for, as he soon found himself sitting face to face with the Overdlord weaponsmith herself. As intimidating as she was beautiful to behold but being who and what she was, one wrong move and she would likely lay claim to his soul as collateral.

Carmilla:*Her hair flowing free from it’s usually immaculate twin horns style bun, silently humming as she kept her gaze on the little imp. As if trying to determine something he himself wasn’t aware about him like an enigma wrapped in a riddle, walking out of her sea and hovering around him with her silky grace and poise.* “I can’t say for certain who is more bolder little one, your employer for eben considering if his…operations can warrant a discount, let alone any of my wares. Or you being the one to handle this meeting on his behalf….not thst you haven’t been unpleasant company so far, I have to say….”*She watched the little possum try not to flinch under her gaze or presence, honestly he was just so adorable….and quite handsome in a way, it rather reminded her of the man who gave her her beloved daughters. And it certainly had been quite a while since she truly felt the touch and pleasure of another man, surely this little fellow could be…persuaded to oblige her.*”But that doesn’t mean I’m not above a little negotiating….”

Now Moxxie should’ve known that was a red flag but that soft, alluring sensual smile Carmilla was wearing was just so disarming and truth be told? Among the sort of women that tended to be kryptonite for the little imp were women who radiated what some would call “Big Dommy Mommy” energy. Maybe call it some kink born of his mourning loss of his mother or just how bad an influence Millie had been but the sweet possum just found he couldn’t say no to whatever Carmilla wanted and had in mind. Which might be why things soon began to escalate the way they had and that was saying Something given many of his prior sexual encounters and liaisons.

But of course how many demons let alone imps would find themselves eating out The Carmilla Carmine, as the weapons maker and arms dealing Oerlord say in the edge of the mahogany table. One of her distinct clawed hands holding Moxxie’s oh so adorable little face to her lower regions as she moaned deeply and passionately, the walls and ceiling echoing with the sensual melody. She’d expected quite some effort from the little possum but he was certainly defying or exceeding expectations at the very least. If he kept this up, she’d likely be willing to give him more than just a discount on some of her most choice wares…

But that consideration was growing higher and higher to a degree she’d give the imp discount perks for the rest of his afterlife because she was feeling so damn good right now!! Claws grasping the table as she was bent over it, inch after inch of red hot little demon lover boy dick, no, cock pounding in deep and hard as Moxxie pounded her like a jackhammer. Now Carmilla knew he wasn’t some submissive sort of slut by nature who spread her legs open for any man, if that was the case, she’d certainly have more than 2 daughters. But the moment she got Moxxie naked and laid eyes on that secret erotic weapon of his, it was no small wonder it had turned out like this.

Moxxie of course still couldn’t believe this was happening here and now, being balls deep in Carmilla Carmine herself!! Her immaculate accented voice letting loose with deep, sexual moans, the jiggle of her ash skinned booty with every impact of their loins, the warm, tight embrace of her pussy around his big red imp cock all signs that this was indeed all real and not some kinky lucid dream he was sharing with Millie like that one time, god his wife had quite the kinky imagination. He’d be lying of course if he said that he had never had such fantasies before but really who could blame him? After all on the one hand Carmilla was a stunning woman but in the other she was an Overlord and many of them had their own reputations for a damn good reason!!

Outside the doors of this private office, Odette and Clara had their ears pressed as they eavesdropped on this illicit, steamy meeting curious about the noises coming from it’s usually well soundproofed walls. Blushing in awe and arousal at hearing their mother in the throes of passion, having never thought their usually aloof professional matron could be so wild. It made them wonder just what sort of guy this Moxxie was to get to her like this and it damn sure made them feel tempted have a peek inside and see the spicy action. But they knew they were pushing their luck just listening in on this but good thing they could watch the security camera recordings later on.

Back in the meeting room of course, Carmilla and Moxxie continued to go at it with the intensity and passion of minks in heat, the walls and ceiling echoing with the arms dealing overlord’s cries of pleasure. Deeply moaning as her claws cling to the wall The imp had her pinned up against, her lovely legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded and hammered away into the embrace of her snatch. Pink hearts of lust flowing in her red eyes as her body became reacquainted with levels of pleasure she’d not felt since the fateful encounters which had conceived her two of her precious children. The few words she could spit out consisting of a mix of English and Spanish alike as she urged Moxxie to keep going for as long as he possibly could.

Carmilla”Aaahn, Mi amor…so feisty Nino..you keep being this good and I might wind up falling in love with you, mi carazon…make your mamacita proud papi….”*Ths ash skinned overlord sensually moaned as she now rode Moxxie cowgirl style atop the immaculate Mahogany wood table. Seconds into minutes becoming hours of ceaseless erotic bliss and pleasure as she praised the little imp for his quite gifted talents in making love, deciding he had more than earned a very fine discount one of her her most high quality stock. That is providing he’d be more than open to the idea of renewing this deal in this exact same manner, after all why pass up a chance to have the best sex she’d ever had since the concept of Odette and Clara? Besides which, this little possum was such a damn adorable little sweetheart.*

After what had been quite a marathon of orgasmic love making and a little bit of afterglow snuggling, Carmilla had sent Moxxie on his way with the promise of a discount on any purchase of her weaponry stock and custom orders. Sealing the deal with a kiss of course and promise on regularly “renewing” the aforementioned deal, suffice to say Moxxie knew Blitzo would be a happy camper. Granted the former circus kid would likely assume it’s because he had to do a lot of asskissing, after all would he ever believe Moxxie of all people actually got laid with THE Carmilla Carmine? Now Millie and Loona of course were a different matter entirely and the thespian knew they were going to want any and every single little juicy detail. But as far as Moxxie was aware, he wasn’t sure his generous a discount Carmilla would provide so he knew for sure IMP was going to need a little extra in their petty cash.

I it was then and there as fished out a certain business card from his wallet and eyed the phone number, taking a deep breath as he fished out his cellphone and dialled it. He knew he was taking quite a big step out of his comfort zone but he knew Millie would be more than understanding and the money was sure to be good. Waiting as the dial tone rang through, while in a certain porn studio in Lust City, a phone rang in the office of the head honcho himself as Mr.Sketch was enjoying some quality time in a hot tub with a pair of succubi. The flaming skullheaded enigma reaching out and picking up the receiver as he began speaking to the imp.

Mr.Sketch:”Well now, just the imp I been looking for. You made my day making his call little man because have I got an offer for you….” *The shapeshifting enigma quipped, mentally reminding himself he also had some plans in store for Moxxie as he and the imp had their conversation. Arranging a time and appointment to have the imp come over to the SkullFuck productions studio so they could conduct an interview, formalities had to be met and followed after all. This simple call would be a fateful milestone moment in Moxxie’s infernal life for it would be in this day he’d take his first steps in becoming a porn star. One that Mr.Sketch would find to be quite the rookie success story, to say the very least…..*

[potatoqueensays]

hey u shoudl iek,,,, tootally tlak about that reverve falls au rehash you said you were amking,...... for like.,.,,, totally no reason,,,,,,, yeah,,,,,,,,, dont mind the voice recorder dont mind it im not the fbi wdym we;re in an interrogation room what gaslighting isnt a thing ure tripping anyways

HI!!! HI HI HI!!!! ANON HELLO!!!!

...So yes!!! I am working on a teensy weensy little rehashing of the Reverse Falls au. I'm sure as we all know, the original is a bit....outdated so to say. What with suspicious art and some questionable decisions here and there.

I'm not saying mine is better! No way no how, I'm absolutely sure there's a bunch of people out there with something better. This is just a little thing I'm working on with a friend of mine ( @danklemckspankle ) and how we would imagine a reverse falls au. Rather than it being low-key swapping personalities, it swaps roles as it should. And I'd like to think the premise is exciting as well! It makes me very very happy to talk about it as it's been plaguing my mind for a week or two. Tbh ever since book of bill came out....

So!! Lemme talk about it a little!!! I hope you're ready for a little mystery wink wink

Ahem. So! Our little story starts in a little shack called "The Shack of Telepathy"!! (So original yeah I know)

Bud Gleeful is the shack owner, living as a single father with his son Gideon Gleeful. Bud makes money by being a tourist trap, grabbing people in under the premise of reading their minds! (Gravity falls people are just easy to read but shhh don't tell Toby)

Gideon is a little 9 year old with a heart of gold and full of promise. It's a new summer in Gravity Falls and he has big plans! He wants to have the best adventure he can, and hopefully get a new badge on his vest!!

Yes, this little guy wants to be a boy scout!! Unfortunately, there is no chapter in Gravity Falls, so he's gonna have to make one himself!

Here's my little drawing ref of Gideon. Look at him, he's so squishable

With his dad's pin machine, he makes badges whenever he does something good or a big accomplishment! (His pride and joy badge is the one he made with his dad on Father's Day :] )

He really wants to have a good summer. He hopes, by golly, he hopes.

Now a neighborhood down, is town darling Pacifica Northwest. Her family isn't as rich in this as canon, so her family sits as upper middle class at most. Modern suburbia yk? Her family wants to set an example for the people of Gravity Falls, taming the weirdness out or whatever they say.

Pacifica just wants a summer where she can have a little relief. Away from the eye of her parents and the public. Just one day where she can be herself!

Little drawing ref of Pacifica. She still wears a bunch of makeup. (Just....maybe one less powdering. Maybe.) Also she's 12.

So she goes walking in town while her parents are busy planning their big weekly barbeque or whatever. She comes across this kid named Gideon. He compliments her sense of style and makes an offhanded comment about making a badge or something.

Now Pacifica, despite however much her parents influence her, starts her own trends and styles. (With the permission of her parents) So when this kid compliments her she goes on a (grateful) rant and they hit it off!

Gideon tells her about his dad's shack, and all the business business business Bud does. Pacifica talks about her parents planning events every week and, begrudgingly, church. They scurry off into the woods to just explore, and be kids!

On their way as Gideon is messing around with nature, they come across this metal tree. Weird, huh. They do some digging around and press buttons, when a crater opens in the ground!! Pacifica goes to check it out, pushing Gideon back in case of danger.

What they see is a journal! Very dusty and cobwebbed, but a journal with the number 3 painted on it. They pick it up and peruse through it. Pacifica is skeptical at first, wondering if it's part of any tourist trap Gideon's dad planned. When Gid says no, they realize the journal mayyyy have some merit. With how weird Gravity Falls is all the time and the little things that happen here and there, the author of this journal could be telling the truth.

So when they go back to the shack, the talk about the journal and what it could mean.

Now I haven't planned too far ahead to make a full writing of each episode, barely even the pilot, but! This is the gist of it in my head.

As you know, yes I mentioned Ford was evil! And I'm keeping a little of the previous reverse falls lore for this (surrounding the pines. Other things will be different!)

Maybe I'll make a post talking about the pines, but y'know. I just wanna talk about the general feeling I have for it in my head.

Have a bonus doodle of Gideon reading the journal (for an author who doesn't deserve it)

I'm very excited to work on this. Mayyyybe I'll share a bit of the roles with you that are swapped. Juuuust to keep interest ;)

Bud -> Stan

Stan -> Mixture of Pacifica and Gid's parents

Pacifica & Gideon -> The mystery twins ofc

Wendy -> Robbie

Soos -> Dude he's just himself here. Soos is perfection and cannot be interchanged (he goes undercover for Stan and works at the shack every other day. Undercover name is Deuce because of that one guy that looked like him 👍)

Shitty discord whiteboard sketch of Soos :]

Ford -> Bill tbh. How else is he gonna be so evil?

I'll probs make another post talking about the pines family, but I'd like to make colored refs of them first y'know?

I hope this catches your interest. Other characters are reeeeally integral to the plot and I'd like to keep the mystery just for a little moment 💥💥

Anyway ty for asking I'm so very happy to share this with someone that's not already aware of it 🎉🎉

[puttingonmyskepticals]

Brand new chapter of my dipcifica fic, adapting the lost legends story “face it and then some. Here’s a preview!

“I can’t BELIEVE you, Pacifica!”

The golf cart zoomed along at a speedy 25 miles per hour down the streets of Gravity Falls. Every time they ran over a pebble, the whole thing would shake violently. Pacifica wasn’t used to vehicles that so much as wobble, so it was all she could do not to fall out of the wretched thing.

And of course, Dipper was still shouting in her ear. “Didn’t you learn ANYTHING during the ghost incident? Like maybe something about growing as a person?”

Ouch. That stung Pacifica a little more than she cared to admit. The week and a half or so since the party at Northwest Manor had been a weird one for her. Tensions were still high with her parents, and she was trying to do everything she could to lower the temperature. This photo shoot was just the way to do so. Her parents were usually in a good mood whenever the world got to see just how perfect the Northwests were looking this week. So when she summoned the beanpole with a vomit-colored jacket from Dipper’s nerd book, she had a solid justification. How could trying to keep the peace be a bad thing? Sure, she had gotten Mabel’s face snatched by the smiling creep in the trenchcoat. But that wasn’t a moral failing. How was she supposed to know that someone would try to trick her? Had any person with a lot of money ever been tricked like this? It seemed doubtful.

And all of that aside, she needed to look good for the picture. And in general.

“Look, I happen to care about my appearance, okay?! Just like how you care about kissing aliens or whatever!”

That seemed to get to him. Dipper ripped his eyes from the road for a moment to give her an incensed work, his cheeks bright red. After so much time dealing with his unflappable attitude in the face of danger, Pacifica felt a little bit of satisfaction at finally finding a weak spot.

“I’ve never kissed an alien! I’ve never kissed anyone!”

“Well, obviously! You live in a barn!”

“I’m already regretting bringing you on this.”

Before she could respond, Pacifica spotted a figure sprinting down the street, carrying a leather bag and wearing a familiar vomit-green striped trench coat.

“THERE HE IS!”

As they got closer, Pacifica could hear Mabel’s muffled voice inside the bag. “HELP ME! It smells like mothballs and morning breath in here!”

Trenchcoat man (or “Mr. Whats-His-Face”, as Dipper’s nerd book called it) came to a stop in front of a door on Main Street. It turned its face– or at least, its smile– to Pacifica and Dipper, and its grin widened as it pulled out a golden key.

“Try to catch me, if you dare…”

In one swift movement, it unlocked the door, opened it to reveal a black void, and hurled itself through the door, bag in tow, and shut the door behind it. That didn’t stop its disgusting voice from gurgling through the door, however.

“But you’ll find…”

As the thing spoke, Dipper pumped the brakes on the golf cart, ran over to the door, and threw it open to find–

“...I’m not anywhere!”

Behind the door was nothing but a brick wall. Pacifica had seen some weird things today, but this was starting to freak her out a bit.

“That’s… not normal.”

“No, it’s paranormal.” Dipper was already flipping through one of his journals, seemingly unphased. “Welcome to my life. Now, how do we get in…?”

“Didn’t that freakshow have some kind of a key?”

“Wait, of course! That’s it!”

Dipper reached into his vest, and Pacifica caught a glimpse of a seemingly infinite collection of haphazardly sewn-on pockets on the inside. Before she could ponder how the seams were still holding, Dipper found what he was looking for, and whipped it out with a flourish.

“The President’s Key!”

The golden brass shone in the sunlight. It was elaborately designed with ornate patterns and reminded Pacifica of the keys that her parents kept for the butler cages when they got too rowdy.

Dipper continued. “A former president gave this to me. I think he also gave me cholera. I might wanna get that checked out.”

Pacifica decided to ignore that. She didn’t know what cholera was, but it sounded like a poor person thing. It was better to focus on saving Mabel or whatever.

Dipper put his hand on the door. “Prepare yourself, Pacifica. If I know Gravity Falls…”

He put the key in the lock.

“...things are about to get weird.”

He turned the key. The doorknob began to glow, a deep red emanating from the center. It shook, and as it creaked open, Pacifca could see into the hallway behind it.

Well, “hallway” was a pretty generous descriptor. Pacifica felt a more accurate description would be “Ungodly Horror.” It looked more like a mouth than any human-built structure, with jagged teeth dotting the gummy walls and a thick layer of slimy saliva coating the tunnel. Pacifica’s skin crawled at the thought of touching it, let alone descending into the gaping maw.

“Oh, fun. A tunnel made of living skin. Yeah, I’m not going in there.”

Dipper gave her a sharp look. “My sister has no FACE, thanks to you! We’re going in!”

He grabbed her hand and moved towards the tunnel. She dug her feet in, still trying to suppress her fight or flight response.

“Are you INSANE?! This hallway has TEETH!”

“You wanted to mess with magic? Well, congrats, Pacifica– Today you’re messing with magic!”

And with that, he pulled her down the tunnel, the two of them falling into the murky darkness, Pacifica’s shriek echoing off the spongey walls.

READ THE FULL CHAPTER NOW!

[asterkiss]

Preview of a long oneshot which is a reworking of the setup in Homecoming/Seven Minutes in Heaven which follows the whole "fake dating" scenario between Mabel and Bill in more detail as requested by @korla-the-kenku This bit is just a rework of the first bit of Homecoming which now comes with more humour, Candy and Grenda, and a nice build up to Bill's namedrop. Aiming to have the whole thing out by next week? (We shall see). Haven't got a title for this thing yet.

Mabel Pines, seventeen years old, was proud of who she was. (Even if who she was got classed as “weird” by many of her peers). But so what? The teenager didn’t pay any mind to the whispers behind her back when she made up her own songs and dances in the school hallways; nor did she care when the popular girls giggled and pointed in her direction on the days she wore her homemade sweaters. 

She was weird, and proud of it! And she wasn’t going to change for anyone, let alone a bunch of mean classmates she wouldn’t ever see or hang out with again after graduation.

....Still, when Pacifica Northwest, the most popular girl in town, made constant needling comments every chance she could get, Mabel would be lying if she didn’t say she was frustrated. She may or may not have wished on more than one occasion that the girl would wake up with the biggest pimple on the end of her nose but so far her wishing skills hadn’t mounted to much so she obviously didn’t have that secret superpower.

And when Pacifica had mocked her love life and lack of a date to Homecoming in front of a whole crowd of people, Mabel may have snapped. Just a teensy little bit. Really, it wasn’t that big a deal!

“Actually, I do have a date! And he's great and handsome and even better than your boyfriend, Pacifica!”

Okay, it was a big deal.

‘Urghhhh, why did I say that guys? Whyyyyyyy!?’ The teenager slowly hit her head against her locker repeatedly. Maybe if she did this enough times she’d get minor brain damage and be excused from school for the rest of the year. That would get her out of this conundrum of her own making.

‘You need to stop letting Pacifica get to you,’ Candy replied, swapping out books in her own locker beside. ‘So what if we don’t have dates? It’ll be a fun night either way with just us girls.’

Mabel groaned. ‘You weren’t there. I really exaggerated just how great my date was.’

Grenda, stood on the other side, raised an eyebrow. ‘Like how great? Zac Efron great?’

‘Surely not Chris Hemsworth great?’ Candy asked, starting to look concerned when Mabel didn’t respond immediately.

The brunette glanced down at her feet. ‘More like Henry Cavill great.’

Both girls gasped, grabbing her by the arm and shaking the brunette frantically.

‘But Mabel, we don’t even know anyone that great!’ Candy cried.

‘Yeah, and you’re like the furthest from having a date or boyfriend. Are you forgetting that you got turned down twice last month?’ Grenda added in.

‘Actually, it was three times,’ Candy quipped in as Mabel slouched further and further down between them, expression grim.

‘Gee, thanks.’

Candy offered an apologetic smile. ‘I think you have dug your own grave here, Mabel. I am not sure how we can help you with this one.’

Mabel sighed dramatically. ‘Yeah….’ She’d definitely sealed her fate with the last comment. Pacifica was dating the high school quarterback in typical cliché fashion, and he was a beautiful hottie wrapped up in like, even more hottiness! How was she meant to top that!?

As the bell went off and the trio began making their way to the next class, Candy patted Mabel sympathetically on the shoulder. ‘It will be alright, we have one more year and then we can leave. Right?’

The smaller girl glanced aside to her friend for agreement but found Grenda deep in thought which was unusual. 

‘Grenda?’

The large girl came to a stop, looking towards the pair. She looked serious. ‘Mabel, how badly do you want to one-up Pacifica?’

Sensing the tense atmosphere, Mabel straightened up with imploring eyes as she raised her fists. ‘I’ll do whatever it takes.’

Grenda nodded, placing a firm hand on her shoulder whilst leaning in. ‘Then there’s only one boy I can think of that will work.’

Mabel grinned widely, excitement bubbling in her stomach at the prospect of actually pulling this off. ‘Who!?’

A deep breath. ‘Bill Cipher.’

And just like that the bubble popped, and instead of excitement, it was only uneasiness and anxiety that flowed out. The teenager’s grin faded, and her imploring gaze was now one begging her friend to say “psyche!”. 

But the "psyche" never came. Instead, Candy also placed a hand on the brunette’s other shoulder, offering only a smile of condolence.

‘Good luck, Mabel.’

Well crap.

[ckret2]

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

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

####

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

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

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

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

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

"Okay, deal."

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

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

"Orochi and Ryuu."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wendy Corduroy?"

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

"We're not shopping, Miss Corduroy."

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

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

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

####

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

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

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

Bill's eyebrows shot up.

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

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

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

"Yes," Bill lied.

####

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

"Mm." He shrugged noncommittally.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What'd you get?"

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

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

Wendy squinted. "Nooo?"

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

"I dunno, probably like three or four?"

"Did you go back to the store later?"

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

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

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

"Oh."

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

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

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

"Every pair of men's jeans."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Heh. You sure did."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

####

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

####

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stan asked, "At the gay club?"

"At the gay club."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you guys talking about Rainbow Club?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Wow dude, sucks for you!"

"Haha, I know right!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wendy stared at him. "What."

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

Wendy stared at him. "The what."

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

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

"I don't wanna risk it."

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

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

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

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

####

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

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

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

"Can we get nachos after the meeting?"

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

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

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

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

Goldie turned to face Soos. "Weird how?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"None taken."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

####

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stan snorted. "Aliens."

"Aliens."

"Well okay, Captain Cork—"

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

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

"Stan!" Ford laughed in surprise.

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

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

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

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

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

Ford nodded. "So am I."

####

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

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

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

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

"Hm?"

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

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

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

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

"Uh-huh?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

####

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

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

"Pfft. Dude, are you jealous?"

"Insanely."

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

"I appreciate it."

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

"Oh, no! Again?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another man shouted, "No cops at pride!"

The Rainbow Club turned to look at Blubs and Durland.

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

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

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

"Those cops still showing up?"

"Well, yes."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You don't look okay."

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

"Oh, they helped fight Bill—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

####

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

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

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

"Hello, Soos. Everything went well?"

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

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

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

"Okay, okay. I was fine."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes?"

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

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

"Forks?" Ford echoed. "Forks?"

"Forks."

"Why did they have eleven breads and forks?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You'd fit right in with my freaks.

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

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

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

####

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

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

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

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

He wondered what Ford had thought of his birthday gift.

####

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

[gleeful-northwest-fam]

A... drabble? One shot? Thing based after a rp with @william-will-cipher

—Mod 🥀

"Pacifica-!"

The girl just ran up to the attic, slamming the door close

Preston looked at his step brother, who returned the silent resignation.

Damn kids. So stubborn.

He should leave. Give them some space. He understood that, logically, everything was logical, he was doing the most logical step getting rid of that three sided whining demon

But children weren't logical, and Pacifica specially wasn't. Children are emotional and messy and easy to use. To lose.

He sat down against the door, trying to come up with some new argument, though even if he could find it, it was most likely that neither child would actually listen. All he managed to was hide his face in his palms to try and sort out this- this tangle of horrid feelings in his chest

"C'mon, they'll get around"

"What if they don't?"

"If Gideon could... understand what happened with Carla, sure they can understand this"

Bud didn't get it. Or maybe he did? Maybe he was in the same fight against pain and guilt that had no right to be there, that was twisting their thoughts into something so very absurd.

"... how do you deal with this?"

He let out a sad chukle, sitting next to him "Not gonna lie, is... is hard"

He couldn't let it go. Her eyes willing up with tears. The shouting. The utter betrayal in her face as she screamed that she wished he had never come back. It vore into his chest with a fury no weapon or substance had pierced him in 13 years of exploring the multiverse.

"What if I messed up? Genuinely messed up?"

"Preston, the kid ain't heartless. She's upset, sure, but she loves ya"

"I'm not just talking about the kids"

"... what do you mean?"

This was absurd. Nonsense. And overall unbelievably idiotic. Yet the thought refused to leave his mind, eating him up from the inside as it drove him insane

"Sending him back.. with him"

"Fo' Pete's sake Preston, are you serious?!"

"You weren't there!" He suddenly stood up, beginning to pace around "You didn't hear how Stanford talked about him- or how jumpy he was- he looked- he looked terrified!"

"So what? Were you just gonna welcome him with open arms?"

"Of course not! It's just! It's just..." a frustrated groan scaped him, gesturing widely to try to make sense of it all "Maybe I should've found another way to make him go instead, or- or try to force Stanford into calling the deal off so he'd go back to the mindscape- something that wasn't this!"

"Preston"

"Of course I don't like Will! I hate him! I always will, and if I see him here ever again-"

"Poindexter"

"But I could've at least gotten some information! I- I assumed the deal happened after I disappeared, but what if it was before? How long has it been like that"

"Thee eyes" Preston suddenly grabbed hy the shoulders, forced to stare into Bud's reprimanding eyes "ya did the right thing. Ya protected your family. "

"But-"

"This damn demon is the reason all this happened. So you ain't gotta have no sympathy to him"

This was so... odd for Preston. He was the older brother, the smart brother, the one always with the plan and the right words. Yet ever since he came back, he has felt completely lost, relying on Bud for all these stupid mushy problems called feelings and grief and fatherhood. Before he could proceed what he was doing, he pulled his younger brother into a tight hug, which was almost immediately reciprocated

No more words were exchanged, and after a few far too long seconds, they pulled apart and walked downstairs

They never knew Pacifica had scaped out the window

[lonelyfanboy48]

Gravity Falls Holidays, Festivities And Elude Traditions Chapter 9 Unpopular But Festive Girl

After Wendy and Pacifica reunited with Soos, Melody, Grenda and Candy, they left the Sled Dogs area. With Wendy picking their next destination, she looked through her pamphlet for directions. Grenda and Candy felt relieved by Pacifica's safety, but they didn’t forget how she got launched off.

“Pacifica.” Candy spoked. “You think you can handle staying indoors at the Mystery Shack?”

“I stayed indoors in the motel for the last three months.” Pacifica answered. “It was miserable, but it won’t compare to staying in the building Dipper and Mabel used to sleep in.”

“It’s not bad once you get used to it.” Soos smiled.

“There will be customers but if your parents do come inside, stay upstairs at all times.” Melody added. “We'll make sure they won’t come upstairs even if they attempt to.”

“I’m willing to try anything.” Pacifica replied. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost ten o’clock.” Wendy looked at her watch. “The festival doesn’t close until eleven.”

“So we have an hour left.”

“We'll leave before then, we can do one more activity after the next one.” Melody said.

“What we’re going next is something really cool, I’m sure it’ll not only make all of us have fun,” Wendy turned to Pacifica. “It’ll keep snobby parents far away from.”

Pacifica shyly smiled, liking the way Wendy is protecting her. They arrived at the building Gravity Falls labeled Festive Blowout Bash. The only building where teens like Wendy can enjoy some Christmas blowout. Upon entering inside, Pacifica, Grenda and Candy witness teens dancing to Christmas pop music from the center, with Christmas games displayed in the other room of the building, and girls dressed up in Santa outfits.

“Welcome to my kind of party.” Wendy smiled.

“Is this like something your friends do?” Pacifica asked.

“When you reach my age, you will feel what they always feel.”

“So this is just a hang out?” Melody asked.

“Yes, but this is my first Christmas hang out and I’m not here to make friends.”

“I don’t need to ask if we’re the friends you’re referring to.”

“Why? It allows us to fit in?”

“More like showing off.” Grenda commented.

“Surprise, Dipper and Mabel had the time of their lives with you and your friends around.” Candy replied.

“Then tonight, you’re in Dipper and Mabel’s shoes.” Wendy made her way to the counter with her friends with the waiter of the building taking notice. “What do you want for a nighttime snack?”

“Pizza?” Pacifica asked.

Wendy took out money from her wallet while giving it to the waiter. “We want pizza.”

“Be right back.” He spoke after racing the money. He headed to the back to get the order. Not long afterwards, he came back with a plate of pizza, but shaped into small Christmas trees. After receiving it from the waiter, Wendy showed the plate to Pacifica and the others.

“Anybody order some Pizza trees?” She smiled.

“That’s actually kind of cool.” Melody taking her piece.

“I thought cookies only come in shapes.” Soos commented while taking his piece.

“Talk about pizza Christmas style.” Grenda smiled while taking her piece.

“And Cheese and Christmas do come together.” Candy added as she took her piece.

As Pacifica took her piece, Wendy took her bite on the last remaining piece on the plate. After swallowing it, she placed her elbow on the counter. “Not the best pizza, but still good for the blowout bash.”

Pacifica looked at her pizza shaped Christmas tree as she took her bite. With the flavor in her mouth, she’d had better pizzas, especially take outs, but on the other hand she now understands it’s the type of pizza teens like Wendy have. “Does your family have these types of pizza? Minus the Christmas tree shape?”

“Yeah. We have takeout pizza once a month, but one of my brothers enjoys pizza. My dad buys frozen pizza when he goes to the grocery store.”

“Does that explain why they’ve been sold out of frozen pizzas?” Soos wondered.

“It’s not my fault my brothers are pizzaholics. I only have three pieces whenever we share.”

“I’m not gonna lie, my parents always view pizza as the reward of all rewards, but…” Pacifica remembered another terrible memory. “...they never give any of their workers pizza.”

“What are they saving the pizza for? Put them in a safe to keep them hidden, so they can have it all to themselves?” Soos guessed.

“Only for them to get food poisoning?” Melody assumed.

“I don’t keep any food I have in a safe.” Grenda added.

“As much as I want to disagree…you’re not wrong about the whole safe thing.” Pacifica said.

“Let me guess, they collected any pizza they find so they can sell them away to the homeless just to make them sick?” Wendy guessed. “Because that’s what I think.”

“If it were, my parents would kill homeless people but at the same time, they would sell the pizza to grocery stores outside of Gravity Falls to get more money.”

“Wouldn't that result in them still losing money after buying the pizza?”

“That’s what I thought, but it shows they couldn’t let go of any amount they spend for the sake of keeping the mansion.”

“I really feel bad for anyone who enjoyed pizza when they couldn’t afford it, won’t be able to afford their healthcare.” Candy commented. “Now I feel worried if I eat pizza now.”

“I would be surprised if I found out about it, but my parents have so many skeletons in their closets, they used any spare closet in the mansion to put them in.” Pacifica took a deep breath while eating her piece of pizza. She tried to take Wendy’s advice of not thinking about them, but it’s nearly impossible even being inside a building they dislike the most.

After eating her pizza, Wendy tried to come up with a solution to put the former rich girl in the holiday spirit. With girl teens wearing their Santa outfits while dancing in the center, it gave her an idea, especially with an offer only for the Christmas season. “Come with me.”

After Pacifica ate her pizza, Wendy took her hand by taking her to the other room. After walking past the Christmas games, they arrive at the changing room with multiple curtains open except for one who someone is changing. “What are we doing?”

“Giving you a chance to make an impression.” Wendy wasted little time as she got out of the changing room. She wanted to make sure she’s keeping a surprise momentarily, while giving Pacifica a chance to be noticed like she used to.

Pacifica took notice of the last curtain pushed open, revealing a teenager with blonde hair in her Santa outfit. She has the same eye makeup that Pacifica has on, but she never behaved when she was her age. After putting on her Santa hat, Pacifica got out of the way, allowing the teen to come out of the changing room. The former rich girl would fear for her life by living with her parents if they find her, but the way she saw the teenager prepared to party…she knew it won’t be too late once she becomes an older teenager.

“I’m back.” Wendy opened the door with a Santa outfit in her arm. “I paid this just for you to wear it.”

“You didn’t pay for another outfit for yourself?” She asked.

“I don’t want to, I still don’t know Santa enough to like him.” Wendy placed the outfit on the hook. “But I know for a fact you stand out in the small but cool crowd.” Wendy took out the outfit from the hanger while giving it to Pacifica. “You think you would be comfortable wearing it?”

“It’s not embarrassing, but it’s at least something.”

“Then get in and change.”

Pacifica got in as she closed it with the curtain. Back in the main room of the building, Soos and Melody wait for Pacifica and Wendy to come back. After finishing their pieces of pizza, Candy and Grenda danced together, enjoying the music while staying in the Christmas spirit. Not long after, Wendy came back getting the attention from Soos and Melody.

“Where’s Pacifica?” Soos asked.

“She’ll be out soon.” Wendy smiled. “And I’m also joining in when that happens.”

“Where do you think we should go next before we leave?” Melody asked.

“I’ll check what I can find.” Soos took out his pamphlet but Wendy turned around, witnessing her friend coming out.

“Check later, the festive girl has just arrived in the blowout bash.” Wendy smiled.

When Soos and Melody turned to Pacifica coming out, they were impressed by her outfit. Pacifica made her way to the center, walking past Wendy, Soos and Melody as she put her attention on Candy and Grenda, all the while Wendy followed her. Soon enough, other teens in the center witnessed Pacifica in her Santa outfit. They may never have seen her with them being in high school but they can’t deny she looked fabulous, even at a young age.

Pacifica poked on Candy and Grenda's shoulders as they turned around. The moment they saw Pacifica in a Santa outfit, they were not only impressed, but saw Pacifica as a different girl than how she was last summer.

“How do I look?” Pacifica smiled.

“Does she look like the popular girl you remember?” Wendy added.

“If she ever performed at school…I can’t tell if she loved Christmas or hated Christmas.” Candy commented.

“Yeah, can’t argue about…hating Christmas but it’s becoming a good thing my parents never allowed me to celebrate Christmas.” Pacifica said.

“If they did, they would ruin our holiday cheer.” Grenda said.

“But that’s not what I’m doing here.” Pacifica took out her hat from the Gravity Falls Secret Santa location, and so did Wendy when she got hers. They placed them on Candy and Grenda’s heads, as they giggled in excitement.

“Mabel would’ve done this if she knew what Christmas was.” Candy smiled.

“She and I would be on the same boat if she was here.”

“But this is really nice you did this for us.” Grenda replied. “We had to skip getting Santa hats so we could go to the costume contest right away.”

“I would’ve done the same thing if I was in a festival rush.”

“So do I.” Wendy smiled.

“Hey little girl.” Another teenage girl walked up to Pacifica, catching her attention. “You look really great in that Santa outfit.”

“Thanks, this is the first time I’ve worn a Santa outfit.”

“It does feel good for the first time.” The teenager pointed at her teenage friends in Santa outfits. “My friends told me that you would’ve won the costume contest if you’d participated.”

“True. but the rules of the contest is to make your own costume, not buying ones from nearby shops.” Candy explained.

“Sad. but no one likes a cheater.” Grenda added.

“Plus, I don’t think I’m gonna take this outfit with me since I have to return it when we leave.” Pacifica added.

“You'll be surprised.” Wendy crossed her arms while smiling. “Because I paid triple to keep that outfit for you.”

“Really?” Pacifica blinked.

“It was only ten dollars to wear inside. But thirty to keep it for yourself.”

“In stores during the festival, they cost fifty dollars.” Grenda blinked.

“Then I guess we can say that's, holiday robbery for people who want to blowout bash, right?” Wendy padded on the girl.

“Probably…if I didn’t get a discount on clothes in the shops.” She replied.

Wendy closed her eyes, while making an awkward smile. “Yeah, definitely not my first time saving money for Christmas the right way.”

“You start somewhere for Christmas shopping.” Pacifica smiled. “But thanks for the outfit.”

“Consider it as a Christmas gift, just make sure nothing gets stained on it.”

“I do like I did with the other dresses I used to have.”

With the time they have inside the building, Grenda and Candy came up with a great way to wrap up their and Pacifica’s Christmas Festival experience. They thought it wouldn’t be possible when it came to the after party they missed but like every other activity, it all ends until the clock strikes eleven.

“Pacifica?” Candy asked. “Can we go to the Town Hall as our final place to go?”

“Sure.” Pacifica offered. “As long as we avoid my parents, I’ll take anything you give me.”

“Trust us, you’re gonna love it.” Grenda said.