#seeing him is like an instant mood boost it just makes me so much happier

[kenobion]

Andrew Garfield for Variety

[imagine-loki]

Soulbonds and Fairy Dust

TITLE: Soulbonds and Fairy Dust CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 37/?

AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine one of the fae has been helping the Avengers, jumping in to help them on missions and vanishing before Shield can bring her in.  Loki joins the team and convinces her to come talk to the team and consider joining before Shield takes more drastic measures. RATING: T (so far)  NOTES/WARNINGS: Also on AO3 here

You spent the afternoon with Loki, kissing him, cuddling with him, and… quite a bit more than kissing him.  You had no shame in that particular matter.  Loki was you soulbond and you’d been separated for centuries.  Of course you wanted to have afternoons of sex with him. 

“You are absolutely radiant, my love,” Loki purred between rounds.  

You smiled lovingly up at him. “And you’re handsome as ever, my prince,” you replied and you both dove into another round at the same time.

That evening, right around the time your stomachs started growling insistently enough that you couldn’t ignore them anymore, Thor knocked on Loki’s door, interrupting you. Thor did not want to walk in to whatever Loki and his lady were up to, and having a new soulbond himself he had an idea what you were up to.  You both groaned as you got up, but you were hungry anyway, so you didn’t have much choice.  

Loki opened the door to find his brother on the other side.  “Yes, Thor?” he asked, just this side of polite and you could see the effort it took for him to be that polite to his brother.

Thor grinned knowingly, looking over yours and Loki’s disheveled appearance.  He should just be grateful you’d summoned clothes on the way to the door.  “Stark ordered pizza for dinner.  It just arrived,” Thor told you, hiding his smirk.

Loki nodded and looked to you with love in his eyes.  “Come along, love. Let’s go get something to eat, shall we?” he asked gently.  It wasn’t how you’d prefer to be spending your afternoon, but you knew you needed to eat. 

You nodded and took Loki’s hand. “Excellent idea,” you agreed and dragged Loki from the room.  You were starving and pizza sounded like the perfect solution to that problem.  Loki chuckled and let you drag him from the room, just as hungry after your recreational afternoon.  

Thor gave Loki a knowing smirk at your disheveled state.  Loki glared at him in return. “Not a word, brother,” Loki snarled.

“I have not said a word,” Thor replied pleasantly with a wider knowing smirk.  Loki gave him a pointed look in reply.  Thor’s smirk didn’t leave his face as you all headed downstairs.  Loki just rolled his eyes in reply and you ignored the moron boys, intent on your quest for dinner.  

Before Nat would let you at the pizzas, she insisted on checking your wrist to make sure Loki had healed it properly.  You understood that she’d been worried since no one had seen you or Loki since you’d gotten home.  Loki, however, raised an eyebrow at Nat, questioning her for her behavior. 

“Healing isn’t your specialty, right?” Nat asked as she deemed your injury healed enough.  She let your arm go and you rushed past her to get your pizza.  “And she doesn’t like being a burden on anyone, to the point that I don’t trust her to actually say she’s still hurting,” Nat explained.  You rolled your eyes.  You could still hear them after all.

“It isn’t my specialty, no, but a burn like the one she received wasn’t that complicated to heal. But you are right about her. Thank you, Lady Natasha,” Loki replied warmly, glad that the team cared enough about you to worry over you.

Nat raised an eyebrow.  “That was a nasty burn she received,” she said suspiciously.

Loki nodded with a sigh.  Nat was too perceptive.  “Healing isn’t a specialty of mine,” he agreed.  “I think the increased power has to do with the soulbond. My mother told me it boosts magical energy. That’s why I was able to heal her,” Loki explained to her.  Nat nodded, accepting that answer.  

In the meantime, you’d stolen an entire pizza and taken your spot on their couch. Loki took his own box and joins you on your couch.  The team knew how Thor was about food, so they didn’t question that you and Loki were eating an entire pizza each, just as Thor was.  You both begin devouring their whole pizzas, starving after your long day.  Just because the team understood, didn’t mean they didn’t look impressed at you eating an entire pizza on your own.  You usually didn’t eat like the boys.

“So, did you have an enjoyable afternoon?” Thor teased. Moron just couldn’t help himself any longer. 

Loki glared at Thor.  “And what’s it to you?” he demanded between bites of pizza.  

“You’ve teased me enough about the ladies I’ve courted over the year.  Turnabout is fair play,” Thor replied, stupidly continuing to tease Loki.  He should know that was only going to end up with him being stabbed.  But Thor always was a moron.  Loki continued to glare and refused to answer the original question and proceeded to ignore Thor.  

“Women have actually wanted to date him?” You teased Thor back between bites of pizza.  You were eating as fast as you could shovel pizza into your face, but paused long enough to tease the moron.  

Loki laughed.  “Apparently. It’s a little crazy,”

“Are you sure we did Sif a favor?” you continued teasing.  It was fun to annoy Thor.  

Loki actually pondered that.  “Now that you mention it, I’m not sure…” he teased.

Thor growled and jumped to his feet.  “Surely you dare not insult me so!” he snarled at them, though you could tell that his temper wasn’t all the way up yet.  But it was close. 

“Brother, do you not know how to take a joke? We’re just teasing. I couldn’t be happier that my brother has finally accepted his soulbound,” Loki replied placatingly.  He didn’t want to provoke Thor into actually losing his temper, just tease him a little. 

Thor huffed and plopped back down.  He wasn’t in the best of moods thanks to leaving Sif on Asgard.  Neither you nor Loki had realized just how bad it was until now.  

Loki’s eyes glazed as he reached across the realms with his magic.  He needed to speak with his mother on Asgard.  /Mother, would it be possible to send Sif to Midgard? I think my brother needs her right now. His temper is off the charts at the moment/ His tone was worried.  It wasn’t like Thor to be this out of control.

Frigga’s sigh came across the connection in exasperation.  /I tried to warn him, but he wouldn’t listen…/

/Thor is hotheaded, Mother. He never listens to reason,/ Loki reminded her.  She knew how her sons were.  

/Yes, but he usually listens to his mother.  Of course his temper is out of control.  He has a new soul bond that he is not tending properly.  I’ll convince Sif to go visit/ Frigga replied easily 

/Thank you, Mother/ Loki sighed in relief.  Thor would be much better once Sif got here.  

/Of course, darling. I assume your temper is more reasonable since your soulbond is there and safe with you?/

/Besides what happened earlier today, I am absolutely perfect, Mother./ Loki replied warmly and found that he really was perfect.  You were safe with him and his life was back in order now. 

/What happened earlier?/ Frigga prompted, concerned.

/Just an incident with the man in charge of the organization I’m doing my penance with. He had his agents attach an iron device to Sig.  It really hurt her. I was nearly about to murder someone right then and there./ Loki admitted.  His temper had understandably flared at that. 

/Of course. It is unbearable to feel your heart in pain when you cannot help her/ Frigga told him kindly.  She understood after how many battles her husband had been in.  She worried about him every time he went off to battle and hurt every time he came back injured.  

/Precisely. If you need to, would you just have Sif sent here? I know Thor needs her right now, especially to cement their bond/ 

/She’s on her way to the bifrost now.  I believe she had been looking for an excuse to make her way to Midgard…/ Frigga replies, clearly amused by whatever excuses Sif had been trying to think up. 

Loki’s chuckled carried across the link.  /I would not doubt that. Thank you, Mother/ he ended the connection and his eyes unglazed.  

Loki turned his attention back to Thor.  “Brother, I believe you’ll have a surprise coming your way very soon,” he said with a grin to his brother, glad to have fixed this for him.

Thor looked over at him with a glare.  “I’m not in the mood for your tricks, brother,” he snarled.

Loki smirked in reply.  “It’s no trick. Take a look out the window for yourself,” he said and gestured to the window in question.

The lights of the Bifrost appeared outside the tower’s window an instant later.    Thor looked surprised for a moment before he went rushing from the room to investigate and see who was coming from Asgard. 

“What’s up with him?” Nat asked, knowing Loki would answer her questions, though he might not for someone like Stark.  

So because it was Nat and he liked Nat, Loki answered.  “He left Asgard long before he should have,” he explained.  “He was just soulbound to Lady Sif right before we left.  He didn’t treat the soulbond as he should have. This should fix that.”  Ok, it wasn’t the best explanation ever, but the team accepted it since the Bifrost lights said a real explanation was coming.

You curled yourself better in Loki’s arms.  “Thor denied the bond when it first came into existence and then left Asgard almost immediately afterwards,” you added to the explanation. “Which was something he shouldn’t have done. It makes the bond extremely fragile,” you were the mistress of bonds.  You knew such things.  “Which isn’t helping his mood any,” you leaned up and kissed Loki’s cheek, glad he hadn’t been that dumb when your bond first came into existence.

“Exactly. Now that Sif is here, his mood should improve immensely,” Loki told the others.  

Thor and Sif came into the common room a minute later. Thor’s arm was around Sif when they came in and he looked to be in a much better moon. Loki smirked at his brother, obviously feeling superior.  “Feeling better, brother?” he teased.

Thor growled at him over Sif’s head.  “Shut up, brother,” he snarled

Loki raised an eyebrow at Thor’s behavior.  “I can always have mother call Sif back home,” he replied dryly.  If that was all the thanks he would get for being nice, he wouldn’t bother.

“You could try,” Thor replied, possessive about his soulbond.  It was clear, especially to you, that the soulbond was really fragile to put Thor in that mood. 

“I had mother send Sif here to correct your mood. You’re the imbecile the denied the bond and then left Asgard right after accepting it. That is not my fault,” Loki replied, unfazed by Thor’s temper.

Thor opened his mouth to say something, likely stupid, but Sif clapped her hand over it before he could say anything. “Your brother is an oaf and when he stops being stupid will be glad you intervened,” she said for Thor.  She gave you and Loki a bright smile.  “Hey, Loki, Sigyn,” she turned to the rest of the room.  “Thor’s friends,” she greeted them.  

Loki smiled and inclined his head in return greeting. “It is good to see you again, Sif. Especially when you will help get my brother back in line,” he added with a teasing smirk.  Sif could keep Thor in line.

Sif smirked.  “He always did need a swift kick in the ass to remember to behave,” she teased, her hand still firmly over the grumbly Thor’s mouth.

Loki laughed. “That could not be more true,” he agreed.

Sif grinned. “So where should I take him to administer said swift kick?” she asked you while the team stared dumbfounded at this Asgardian who was handing Thor’s ass to him with no effort.  

You giggled at her and the team’s reactions to her.  “His bedroom is up on the seventh floor. You can’t miss it,” you suggested innocently.

“Perfect,” Sif replied and proceeded to drag Thor toward the elevator. “Nice to meet you, Thor’s friends!” she said.

And absolutely no one moved to help Thor.

[sevralships]

“Just Because You Can” Part 2 of 7, Chapters 5-8

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7 FIN]

The Pines triplets, Mabel, Dipper, and Jolene, have always been best friends. But lately, there’s been some distance growing between the Mystery Kids, due in part to the forbidden feelings with which they are each struggling. How will they manage to see eye to eye, when torn between wanting each other and craving adventure?

(This is a new AU that I’ve been calling Jolene AU, devised by myself and @handleonthescandal​ after one of us asked the question “What if Mabel and Dipper were triplets but with another sister?”. Although this AU is similar, it is not connected to Double Dippin’ AU, and Jolene is in no way connected to Tyrone.)

Shoutout to @sirwaddlesesquire for being the trustiest squire and an insightful, helpful, and supportive beta.

Mostly SFW, mostly angst with some action/adventure and a little bit of fluff, tw incest

Fic under the cut, enjoy!

Chapter 5: Schoolday Blues

Jolene’s pen moved along the lined paper of her Chem notebook purposefully. Mrs. Pepper droned on about something, but it was little more than white noise to her. She watched passively as her pen carved a drawing on the page, not commanding her hand so much as allowing it. There were no photographs of the Lone Pine Mountain Devils. Not a single one. In the world. There were various accounts of sightings, although there hadn’t been a serious one recorded in a long time. But Jo felt like she knew them. Like various other cryptids and mysteries, she’d read every word about the Lone Pine Mountain Devils that had ever been published. Likely descended from microraptors, she could see their notorious rows of venomous teeth and bristling feathers as clearly in her mind as if she’d already seen them in person.

And one was emerging on the paper before her. Its formidable jaws hissing, baring row upon row of teeth, its bird-like eyes flashing. Father Justus Martinez had called them “winged demons” in his journal in 1878. Maybe that’s what makes Dip such a nervous nilly, Jo wondered, he’s had enough of demons for one lifetime. Her hand screeched to a halt at the thought, a familiar internal war breaking out within her.

Bill Cipher, Jo thought, wearily, angrily, almost reverently. Mabel and Dipper had already encountered (and defeated) the most formidable mystery they were ever going to find. As scary as some raptor-birds were, they were not the equal of a chaos god. Bile churned bitterly in Jolene’s stomach as she thought once again about the stupid summer classes she had been shackled to while Mabel and Dipper went on the greatest adventure of their lives without her. They had both told her a million times how happy they were that she had been safe, that she hadn’t witnessed Bill’s atrocities, or been tricked by his wiles. I don’t want ‘safe’, Jo seethed, I’m not afraid of nightmares and I’m not easily tricked.

She knew it was foolish, childish even, to wish she had been there. And as much as she craved an adventure like theirs, she hated Bill Cipher immeasurably more than she was fascinated by him. He hurt them, she reminded herself, a steely loathing taking form within her as always, No one hurts my Trips and doesn’t pay the price. And he had. But to her it could just as well have all been an elaborate fiction her sibs made up on the long bus ride from Oregon to California. In fact, she had accused them of just that, of some cruel practical joke, until they’d presented her with proof. They’d told and retold all their stories, finishing each other’s sentences and laughing at private jokes. And Jo had watched and listened and laughed, but every story made her feel smaller and further from them. All three of them had always been inseparable, but suddenly, her brother and sister had been separated from her by an experience nothing could match. They sat before her rattling off stories and in-jokes that she would never be a part of, recounting memories, good and bad, that she could never share.

And it’s always gonna be that way, Jo frowned down at the drawing in her notebook, hardly seeing the page. Sure, they love me, but they’re the ones. The best friends who saved the world. Pine Tree and Shooting Star. I’m not on anybody’s zodiac. I’m not a hero to anyone. She thought back to the first few months after their return, the adoring way Mabel had looked at Dipper, her best friend, her partner in crime, her savior. And she still looks at him like that. She’d gotten better at downplaying it, playing it cool and not staring, but Jo knew her better than that. Before that summer, the sisters had been best friends, but by the time it ended, Dipper was Mabel’s favorite. It was supposed to be me.

“Jolene...Jolene!” Jo surfaced from her thoughts and for a blood-chilling instant thought the teacher had called on her to answer a question. But looking around the quickly emptying classroom, she realized that the bell had sounded the end of class while she’d been lost in thought. Mrs. Pepper was approaching her desk and Jo slammed her notebook closed before she could see the drawing. She tapped one finger against the notebook cover, “You must learn to pay attention in class, Jolene,” she admonished, “With the grade you got on your last lab, you can’t afford to keep slacking off.”

Jo made a grumble of agreement as she grabbed her things and retreated quickly from the room. She slipped into the press of students, like a fish entering a swift current. The last period of the day had just ended and the hallways buzzed with the palpable relief of students ready to get the hell out of school for the day. It was one of the few times Jo felt a kinship with her classmates. She made her way towards the entrance from the side parking lot where they usually parked.

She’d agreed to help Mabel move stuff for the play out of the car. Dipper had weaseled his way out of it, talking about how much his tutoring mentees needed him with the placement tests that were coming up, and as usual, Mabel let him off the hook. Jo didn’t mind helping her sister, she really didn’t. I just don’t like double standards.

She resolved to put her crankiness aside when she left the school and emerged into the parking lot. It was a sunny clear March day, and the rush of fresh air was an instant boost to her mood. Jo had always been happier out-of-doors. In addition to the immediate therapy of going outside, Jo’s Triplet sixth sense immediately prickled with the proximity of her sister. There was no way anyone could enter the same space as Mabel and not feel better. Like candy for all your senses, she mused.

She looked around towards where she’d parked that morning and the sight of Mabel nearly stopped her heart. She was wearing her grey skirt with the pink roses on it and at this very moment was bending over through the rolled down back passenger side window, on tiptoe. The thick cotton skirt was lifted up past her thighs, her yellow panties just peeking out. The full length of her slim legs stretched down from the window to the asphalt, her heels lifted out of her turquoise flats. Jolene forced herself to turn away, actually covering her eyes. Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it! The sight was burned into her mind and she tried desperately to erase the memory of the small crease just slightly visible through the yellow cotton, to ignore the speed of her heartbeat, or worse yet, the telltale tingling in her jeans. You’re disgusting, she reminded herself, before turning around and willing her legs to carry her over to her sister.

“Hey Mabey,” Jo greeted, once she was within several feet, trying with all her might to sound casual, hoping against hope that her voice would not give away her secret shame.

Mabel was grumbling to herself about the task at hand when she heard Jolene behind her. “Howdy-doo, Miss-Sis,” she said, turning around. Man, sometimes it took her breath away how beautiful Jolene was. She doesn’t even realize, Mabel grieved, watching Jo approach her across the parking lot. She has a great walk. Mabel looked enviously on Jo’s curves, the swell of her hips in her jeans and the small bounce of full breasts in her tee shirt. Her auburn hair, cut just above her shoulders, swayed with every step. Mabel’s arms were full of plastic bins and shoe boxes spilling over with ribbons and scraps of cloth, but she still managed to shoot her sister a couple finger-guns, hoping to cover up her distraction, “What’s up?”

“Oh, the usual,” Jo said, with a shrug, reaching into the car and retrieving several garment bags stuffed with costumes, all that remained of the play stuff,  “School is dumb, I’m smarter than all those suckers, fuck the system?”

Mabel laughed, “Yeah, of course. Same old, same old.”

“So where are we taking this stuff?” Jo asked.

“Oh, we can just scoot it on over to the choir room for now,” Mabel said, setting off in that direction, “That’s where my sewing stuff is.”

“You’re gonna stay here and sew?” Jo couldn’t keep the incredulous tone out of her voice. Mabes nodded, “You’re crazy, Miss Mabel.”

“Crazy?” Mabel turned to her sister as they reached the door, “I’m not crazy. No, I might be the only sane, capable person in this production!” She stomped in the door once Jo opened it, “What’s absolutely crazy-bonkers-bullwinkle,” she dropped her armful of stuff on top of the piano to punctuate her point and put her hands on her hips, “Is that we start dress rehearsals in three days and this week Liz and Jeremy both quit on me, so I have to finish all the costumes alone!”

Mabel’s lower lip was quivering with frustration, a signal Jo knew well to mean that tears may come at any moment. Hastily hanging up the garment bags on the rack by the door, Jo closed the distance between them and folded her sister in her arms, “Whoa, there, hey,” she petted the soft curls of Mabel’s hair, “Take it easy, you’ll be okay.”

Mabel shuddered a couple times and gave a dry sob, but no tears came, “Thanks, sissy,” she said against Jo’s shoulder, “I should get a-workin’.”

“You need me to pick you up later?” Jo asked, holding her shoulders at arm’s length.

Mabel shook her head, “Nah, Mr. McMahon said I could use the music van if I needed to and that way I can come in early tomorrow without bothering you sleepy-dweebs.”

“Okie doke,” Jo kissed the tip of her sister’s nose, “Go easy on yourself, Mabey.”

Mabel gave her an appreciative smile and started unpacking the things she’d just carried in, “Seeya at the ole homestead,” she said without looking up. As Jo reached the door, Mabel called after her, “Give that flaky brother of ours a punch from me!”

Jo snorted, reaching a thumbs up back through the door before going.

Chapter 6: Planning

He’s never gonna pass that test, Dipper thought to himself as he turned his key in the front door, The best tutor in the world could not get that idiot to understand Trig. Most of the time, Dipper enjoyed mentoring other students, he really did. It was a fun way to keep his own knowledge sharp, it was rewarding to help people, it paid well, and it was one of the only ways he ever met people that didn’t make him feel like a total doofus. But sometimes there was a kid like Scott D’Agostino, who was just not interested in learning and too dumb to do it anyhow.

No sooner did he get in the door than he received a stinging punch to the shoulder, “Youch!” He cried, wincing at the small crack his voice gave. Isn’t that supposed to stop someday? He whirled around automatically to see the assailant, although the loud chortling gave it away. Jo was standing right by the door, laughing hard right at him. Dipper tried to summon the anger to glare at her properly, “What the heck was that for, Jo-jo?”

“That,” she explained, through the tail end of her laughter, “Was from Mabel.”

“Ooookay, but Mabel doesn’t hit that hard,” he said, rubbing his arm, “That was a Jolene punch, in the name of Mabel, maybe.”

“You know what they say,” she made a fist threateningly, “Don’t question the messenger.”

Dipper shook his head a little bemusedly, “That isn’t what they say.”

“She also says you’re flaky,” Jo paused and stroked her chin thoughtfully, “Actuallyyy, I’m not sure the ‘flaky’ thing was a message I was supposed to deliver or just a descriptor... but regardless. One punch, to flaky brother, sincerely, Mabel.”

Dipper rolled his eyes and walked away towards the stairs, plodding up to his room with Jolene at his heels. As he pushed open his bedroom door, he asked, “So, why exactly is Mabel sending me punches?”

“Because you’re flaky,” Jo said, as she plopped down on his bed, “I’m preeetty sure I just said that like about a second ago?”

“Okay, yeah, yeah, enough of this,” he waved his hand between them, “thing we’re doing. Why am I flaky?”

Jo picked her nails, “I dunno, I think because you used tutoring to get out of helping her unload the Mystery Machine? I’m honestly not sure.”

“Mabel is ever a mystery to us all,” Dip sighed, taking a seat next to his sister and grabbing his laptop from his desk.

“But we like mysteries,” Jo reminded him, with the curl of a smile.

Dipper laughed, “We love mysteries.” They lapsed into silence, both patiently watching his computer booting up. We love Mabel, he repeated to himself. It had always been second nature that the triplets loved each other, something assumed and frequently said. But in the last few years, it had gotten so much harder to tell when it was appropriate to say it and when it wasn’t. It’s never the wrong time to say it, just the wrong reason to say it.

Impatient with his zoning out, Jo reached over to type in his password--“d3cip3r thi5”--for him, and the smell of her pulled him right back. Why do girls smell so good? Dipper wondered, breathing in her scent without being too obvious. Jo smelled a little like fresh-cut grass, like hard green apples, and the vanilla shampoo she shared with her sister. But Mabel… Mabel smelled like ripe strawberries, like apple pie with ice cream. He’d spent a lot of time thinking about how marvelous it was that the two of them could in a way smell so alike and so different, just as they were so alike and so different.

“Okay, Dip-man,” Jo said, “If we’re going up to Tahoe this weekend, I’m sure you have some meticulous plan to give me.”

Dipper couldn’t help but grin at that, as he opened up ‘operationtessie.doc’, which he had worked on last night after bidding Jo goodnight. He’d needed to do something. He’d learned the hard way that going to sleep with either, or oh god both, of his sisters on his mind had unsavory consequences, “It might be my best plan yet.”

Jo groaned, “Dip, pleeeease!” she pointed at the four-page document displayed on his screen, “These plans never work!”

“So, then what?” Dipper scoffed, “Do you want to just drive up to Tahoe and go in there without a plan like a couple amateurs?”

“No, I’m not an idiot,” Jo said, “But we’ve seen it a zillion times! While you’re checking off boxes on your stupid lists and trying to follow your compass and taking proper “precautions”,” Jo punctuated with particularly scathing air-quotes, “Big Foot and all his buds are having a tea party in front of you and you don’t even see it.”

“Sure, sure,” Dipper agreed sarcastically, “Instead of taking precautions I should have no caution? We’re not going out there to drink tea with Tessie, we’re going to get a picture, observe, and go. If we do it right, she’ll never even know we were there.”

“We might as well go bird-watching,” Jolene huffed.

Dipper had to take a deep breath, why did they have to have this conversation every time? He sighed, “Jo, no. It’s not boring. It’s never boring. I’m just trying to keep us alive.”

“Okay, okay, fine,” she crossed her arms, “We can go in with one of your plans, that’s cool, I get it, but we need to trim this baby down! We’re never gonna stick to a plan this convoluted.”

“Convoluted?” Dipper bristled, “You haven’t even read it yet!”

“Fair point,” Jo said, plucking his laptop from his hands. She scooted back against the wall, bent her legs in front of her and set to reading, tapping the trackpad every few seconds. Dipper’s frustration quieted as he watched her read. Her glasses had slid down the bridge of her nose, and her green eyes ran swiftly across the lines of typed text. The light of the screen glowed on her face, the corner of her lip just curling up in a curious smile.

Whenever he looked at her or Mabel for too long, he could feel the butterflies convening in his stomach. Why do you have to make it weird? He asked himself, impatiently, You’re lucky to have been born with the two best friends anyone could ever ask for, and you gotta go and make it a weird sex thing? It wasn’t that simple, and he knew it. It isn’t about sex, although goddamn is sex part of the problem. He tried, as he always did, to imagine he’d never noticed his sisters were girls. Maybe if he’d never noticed they were girls, they all could have just kept on being normal codependent siblings and left it at that. It’s not just because they have a second X-chromosome, he knew. He’d been friendly with plenty of girls, even pretty, vivacious ones like his triplets, without ever thinking of them this way. It’s what made saying he loved them so hard. Because he’d known for a long time now that he loved them, both of them, much more than a brother should.

“Okay, bro-tective, here ya go,” Jo said, handing him back the laptop. At least two-thirds of the text was highlighted in fluorescent green.

“Ouch, my eyes,” Dipper joked, making a show of squinting at the screen, “Whaddya do to it?”

“I highlighted all the junk that has to go,”Jolene said matter-of-factly.

Dipper resisted the impulse to reject the idea, and instead tried to consider Jo’s suggestions. As he went, he deleted most of them, secretly grieving for the work he’d put into it. By the time he’d reached the bottom, the document had shrunk to a page and a half in length, “There,” he said, “Is that better?”

“Hmm,” Jo chewed her lower lip and Dipper tried desperately not to stare at the way the blood rushed back, restoring the rosy color, each time her teeth released it, “You left the thing about life jackets. We’re both really good swimmers, do we really need life jackets?”

“Yes, Jolene,” Dipper said, running his hand down his face in frustration, “The life jackets are non-negotiable.”

She considered it, skimming the list again for the handful of highlighted items that remained, “So you’re really serious about bringing eighteen disposable cameras? We have both our phones and the digital.”

Dipper shook his head and held up both hands, “Digital or otherwise, the cameras stay.” He laughed darkly, “Not making that mistake again.”

“But didn’t you use the one under your hat anyw--”

“Not the point,” Dipper interrupted Jo’s correction, “The cameras go, I go.”

“Pssh, such a drama queen,” she said with a light punch to his shoulder. She considered the list a moment longer and shrugged, “Okay, it’s good.”

“It’s good?!” Dipper exclaimed happily, turning to face her.

“It’s good,” she confirmed, smiling, “Nice work, Dip-man.”

“Thanks,” he said, pride glowing in his chest, offering a fist bump, “Tahoe Tessie, watch out for the Mystery Kids.”

Jo fistbumped him hard, “Mystery Kids, yo!”

Chapter 7: Surprise Bacon

It was late when Mabel got home, parking the van by the mailbox. She was dead tired and ready to sleep. Her fingertips and eyes were stinging from the hours of sewing and gluing. Her stomach rumbled in complaint that she hadn’t eaten since lunch in the cafeteria hours before. Okay, she bargained with her body, a bite to eat and then straight to beddy-bye for us. She trudged up to the door, fumbled for her keys in her shoulder bag for a rattling moment before extracting them and unlocking the door. She locked it again behind her, slipped her keys back in the bag, and dropped it heavily by the door. Mabel’s stomach growled at her angrily again, and she patted it appeasingly as she dragged her feet to the kitchen.

“Welcome home, Madam Seamstress,” Dipper greeted her from the kitchen. She was surprised to see him, but gathered her wits quickly. After all, it was old news that he was a night owl.

“Howdy Dipdot,” she replied, a little flatly.

Dipper was in the process of making himself a grilled cheese and it smelled heavenly. He must have seen her staring at the frying pan because he laughed and asked, “Do you want one?” She nodded rapidly and he laughed again, “Cool, you can have this one in a sec. I’ll just make myself another.” he gave her a once-over, “You look like you need it more than I do.”

“Thanks a lot,” Mabel spat, a little grumpily. “Okay, okay,” Dipper held up his hands, spatula in the right, in surrender, “Just sit down at the table, hangry-pants.”

“‘M’not hangry,” Mabel grumbled, as she took a seat at the kitchen table.

“That’s exactly what hangry Mabel would say, but okay,” Dipper said, lifting the grilled cheese out of the pan and sliding it onto a plate, handing it to Mabel. He set about assembling another grilled cheese for himself and asked Mabel tentatively, “Sooo… I guess today wasn’t so great?”

“Ha, what gave you that impression?” Mabel asked drily, eating her way around the crust.

“Well, you coming in at two in the morning famished was one clue, but--”

“Ohmigosh, there’sh bacon in here!” Mabel exclaimed with her mouth full of grilled cheese, “Shurprishe bacon!?” Dipper nodded, smiling at her enthusiasm. Even exhausted, no one lights up a room like Mabel, he noted before pushing the thought away, buttering the pan and dropping his own sandwich in, “Wait…” Mabel’s brow furrowed, “You only made shuffishent bacon for one shandwich! That’sh not fair!”

Dipper shrugged, “It’s cool, Mabes, you had a bad day.”

Mabel grinned, her cheeks chipmunking from the mouthful of food, “Thanksh, bro-bro.” Mabel munched on her grilled cheese for a couple moments in happy, thoughtful silence. Much as she sometimes tried, it was practically impossible to stay mad at Dip. Without fail, he always put his sisters before himself. I mean, Mabel considered, it takes a special kinda dude to give away all his bacon. She looked over at Dipper and felt a surge of pride. He’d always been a great bro, but every once in a while it struck her that he had grown into a really good man. He stood over at the stove, humming to himself and attentively nudging his grilled cheese around the pan. He was wearing last year’s blue Chess Club tee shirt and a pair of thin flannel pajama pants. Dipper had been short like her and Jolene until last year when he had suddenly shot up like a weed. Honestly, she was still getting used to his height. Tall looks good on him, though, she couldn’t help thinking, her eyes drawn almost magnetically to the way the soft PJs draped on his cute little bottom.

“So,” Dip said, interrupting her thoughts as he flipped over his grilled cheese and turned to her, leaning his hip against the counter, “Ya wanna talk about whatever made your day so lame?”

“Well, I was kinda mad at you, Dipstick,” Mabel admitted, taking another bite of grilled cheese, “Up until the point you gave me noms, that is.”

“Always I can buy your forgiveness with noms,” Dipper noted with a crooked smile that made Mabel’s heart race. Does he have any idea how easily that smile could get him kissed?, “Really, though, do you wanna talk about it?”

“Eh,” Mabel shrugged, popping the last bite into her mouth, “Just got saddled with all the costumes.”

“What about Jeremy and Lizzie?” Dipper asked, taking a seat across from her and biting into his grilled cheese, “Weren’t they supposed to help out?”

“Jeremy and Lizzie?” Mabel said, wetting her fingertip to lift buttery crumbs off of her plate. Seeing her place the tip of her finger in her mouth was enough to have Dipper’s blood rushing south. He was grateful for the table between them, shielding her eyes from the traitorous tent rising in his lap, “Those turncoat sons-o’-witches flaked out on me. Of course.” she placed her fingertip just between her lips and it came away wet and clean.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Dipper said, taking a large bite. Chewing gave him a moment to compose himself, “So they flaked, and I got punched? Ya see the problem here?”

“You got--? Oh, Jo-jo?” Dipper could’ve sworn Mabel was blushing, “She actually punched you?”

“She actually punched me?” He gave a disbelieving laugh, “Of course, she punched me! Are we talking about the same Jolene here ‘cause my Jolene is prett-y dangerous.”

Mabel laughed along, even as her newly-satisfied stomach gave a flip. It seemed as though the mention of Jo was all it took. His brown eyes, so like her own, gleamed with a mystery she’d only seen in them a few times. It was a look that always got her heart racing and her cheeks reddening. But he was smiling that wistful smile, with his eyes dark and flashing, because of Jo. Mabel cursed the unwelcome twinge in her chest. Not because of me, because of Jo. Here they were, acting almost like siblings were supposed to, and always these thoughts came and fudged it up.

It was bad enough to admire Dipper, to want him. To tell herself it was because he was such a great brother, when she knew it was so much worse than that. But worse than this sick, twisted, devastating crush, was the jealousy. Thinking of Jolene had become so hard when once they had been best friends in the simplest terms. The image of Jo walking towards her in the sunny parking lot, jeans hugging the curves of her legs, tee shirt clinging to her gently bouncing breasts… it was never easy to tell anymore if she wanted her or wanted to be her. Sometimes all she wanted was to push the fabric out of the way and run her hands along her sister’s skin, to touch her, to taste her, to be close to her. Maybe getting close enough will make me more like her, maybe if I could just feel--

“I NEED TO GO TO BED,” Mabel cried out, suddenly enough that Dipper almost choked on a bite of grilled cheese. To be honest, she’d said it to silence her own unwanted thoughts more than to clue Dipper in. Leaving her plate on the table, Mabel stood up stiffly and left the room.

“...goodnight,” Dipper called after her, his food turning to ash in his mouth. He threw down what was left of his sandwich and crossed his arms. She could tell, you idiot, he admonished himself, might’ve been triplet brain, or maybe it’s just that obvious that you’re a freak. His heart lurched at the thought of how pale and drawn her face had become before she’d left the table, her eyes full of that strange dark look he could never quite place, a subtle sadness settling on her brow. It seemed like he never got a moment alone with Mabel anymore, and when he did, he always somehow fucked up like this. Dipper sighed, cleared their plates, and trudged up to his room to lie awake in bed.

Chapter 8: Sister’s Lament

They had practically the same hands, but Jo just knew that Mabel’s would feel different than her own. Everything about her would feel different. Jo tried to imagine her round breast was instead Mabel’s smaller perky one, thought of the small peek of pink nipple she occasionally got as Mabel was clasping her bra behind her back. She tried to imagine, as her hand skated down the soft squish of her own tummy that instead she could feel the tight flat expanse of Mabel’s. The very tips of her fingers nudged the waistband of her PJs underneath her blanket, and the fire kindled bright in her.

In the dark of their room, Mabel’s bed still empty a few feet away, Jo was losing hold of herself fast. In her mind’s eye she could clearly see her sister’s favorite pajama shorts, the baby pink ones with the little brightly colored lollipops and pieces of ribbon candy. She could see the way the little strip of scalloped white elastic at the edge would stretch across Mabel’s pelvis, gapping away from her flat tummy in between her hips. It would be so easy to slide her fingers into that inviting shadow the way she slipped her hand into her own pants now.

Her fingers felt cool against the heat of her skin inside her panties, and her breath hitched, wondering if Mabel’s hands would feel cold or warm. Dipper’s would feel warm and clammy, Jo thought, before pushing her brother out of her mind. Mabey’s hands are usually cold, Jolene reminded herself, pretending with all her might that the fingers moving lower and lower on her body did not belong to her. Lightly, lovingly, the way she imagined Mabel would touch, she ran a fingertip along her slit. She felt a little ashamed of how wet she found herself whenever she let her dreams of Mabel carry her away, but her hips lifted off the bed of their own accord, straining for a deeper touch.

Jolene slowly dipped one finger inside of herself, and wondered desperately if Mabel would feel the same. As tight, as warm, as wet. Oh,, I’d make sure she was even wetter than this, Jo boasted inwardly, If I could ever...if only she’d let me, if only she’d want me too. The thought of Mabel wanting her, not allowing her out of familial love, but looking on her with desire, was too much. She added another finger to her slick heat and purred into her pillow as she let her hips set their eager rhythm,. A small whimper escaped her, and her imagination filled with all the delicious sounds Mabel might make. Her voice is always so cute, her laugh is so musical, oh god, oh god, she must sound so sweet. Jo’s fingers moved faster inside her and a prolonged sigh left her and she wondered, does Mabel have to fight this hard not to cry out? When she’s touching herself like this, is it this hard for her not to moan and sigh?

Jo could feel herself grow wetter at the mere thought of Mabel’s fingers moving, slippery and hungrily, into herself. Do I ever cross her mind when she’s like that? Jo wondered, wishing for a world where Mabel secretly yearned for her just like this. She tried to imagine how Mabel would look and sound, squirming and whimpering under her own hand, and imagining it was my hand. But no, no, the knowledge came uninvited, no, she thinks of Dipper.

Once the thought of him came, there was no pushing him away this time. Mabel wouldn’t lie there imagining her sister’s fingers. She’d be wishing instead for that mysterious, enticing part of Dipper, so absent from either of them. And why not, the hungry voice in Jolene’s head asked her, wouldn’t it feel good inside you? Wouldn’t it feel right to wrap your legs around his waist and see him looking down at you like he has a goddess in his arms? Jo never let herself think about Dipper like this. The thoughts of Mabel wouldn’t go no matter how she tried, but the thoughts of Dipper could usually be kept at bay.

It had grown much too hot under Jo’s blanket but she was too close now to risk stopping to throw it aside. The arousal coiled inside her like a spring, growing tenser and tighter, threatening to pop. She gave herself over to her desires, stopped trying to keep these sweet forbidden thoughts away. She allowed herself to imagine the unknown feeling of Dipper’s cock moving inside her, touching her deeper than she could hope to reach herself. She allowed herself to imagine Mabel’s lips against hers, moving wet and fast, tasting exactly like a candy apple. She allowed herself to imagine her hands, her tongue, exploring their bodies as they made love to each other, could hear Mabel’s cries and see the look on her face as Dipper filled her. And she allowed herself to imagine them wanting her, choosing her, including her. Her breathing echoed heavy in her own ears as her orgasm loomed, about to fall, as she allowed herself to imagine giving this exact impending feeling--

The door opened and every cell of Jolene’s body froze. Mabel’s slender silhouette stood in the doorway and hesitated, sighed, before entering. Jo had never been so petrified, her fingers still lodged deep inside her, motionless, her orgasm obliterated before it ever came. Mabel’s upset, Jo could tell instinctively, from the sound and sense of Mabel’s demeanor in the room. She moved quietly and carefully about between her dresser and her bed. Jo caught herself straining to see a glimpse of Mabel’s bare form as she changed and stopped herself, The fuck is wrong with you, Jolene Pines?? She closed her eyes tight, to ensure she would quit trying to ogle her sister and wondered what Mabel was upset about. Does she know? Mortification overcame her as she wondered if her sister had seen her, had heard her, could smell her. Snap out of it, even if she knew, she doesn’t know what you were thinking about. And Mabel wouldn’t be this bent out of shape about you masturbating.

Mabel found her pajamas by feel and changed into them in the dark. She was relieved Jo was asleep, was happy she didn’t have to face her right now. Where Dipper was often dense, Jolene was usually pretty intuitive, particularly when it came to the wellbeing of her sibs. She’d know something was wrong, Mabel knew, swiping a tear from her cheek. And then she’d have to spin some story about being stressed out about ‘Twelfth Night’, which I am, try to pass this off as Hell Week tears. But Mabel hated lying, especially to Dipper and Jo. She asked herself once again how long she could keep this up. How long am I going to be able to hide my true feelings from the two peeps I trust most in the whole world? Her stomach lurched, but how could I ever tell them the nature of my feelings and expect them not to flip the frick out? I could lose them. Her will hardened. Losing her Trips was not an option.

Without brushing her teeth or washing her face, Mabel crawled into her bed. How strange it was that some nights, your own bed welcomed you like a hug and other nights the cold sheets just made you feel more alone. She curled up tight in a ball and tried to push all her thoughts of her brother and sister away.

She turned her thoughts desperately to ‘Twelfth Night’. She tried to run through the costume and scene changes in her head from start to finish, picturing how the costumes would look on the cast. With a sinking feeling she remembered she needed to take the van in early to finish the last few costumes. She reached over to set her alarm to wake her in a few hours. Olivia’s bridal gown for the last scene required the most attention. Mabel considered her plan for it, the sweeping train, the jewel-encrusted bodice, the tiara giving way to the floating veil. Its femininity would contrast beautifully with the menswear of both Sebastian and Viola.

She had loved watching that last scene rehearsed and looked forward to seeing it in the dress rehearsals and performances. When the central twins recognized each other and embraced, she always found herself deeply moved. Fear and guilt and relief warred in her. Something in that hug always dragged her back into the surreal bubble of Mabeland, of really seeing Dipper again as he was, not a naysayer of her paradise, but her brother, her best friend, her dearest love. She cringed at her own foolishness, at the true contents of her love for him. As sleep closed in on her, she tried and tried to focus on Viola and Sebastian’s sincere sibling hug, but always it was interrupted by his new wife, by Olivia finally out of mourning and dressed in white, by Jolene in a veil the same sea green as Mabel’s old shawl.

Continue to Part 3