I’m curious to know what everybody is favorite donut flavor is for Dipper and family.

Henry and Stan: plain glazed

Acacia: Chocolate cake.

Hank: Blueberry cake.

Willow: jelly filled.

Dipper: a weird mixture of dirt, glass, and onion flakes he puts on himself. 

Mabel: okay so first you glaze it, then you put Fruity Pebbles on it but oh wait there’s already Fruity Pebbles baked in the dough okay so Cocoa Pebbles on top, then you get maple syrup and-

marypsue:

I am slowly indoctrinating @ancientouroboros in the TAU fandom (one of us! one of us!) and this headcanon came out of it:

– when the Library is just starting out, Stan writes a bunch of ‘ancient magickal texts’ because the real thing are either hard to get one’s hands on, prohibitively expensive, or don’t exist. Also, the one thing he’s really good at is faking supernatural baloney, and he has to keep his hand in when the Mystery Shack goes under.

– (Soos usually gets them off the shelves before scholars and researchers find them. Usually.)

– But it doesn’t matter if Soos misses one or two, because everything Stan makes up and writes down about magic is true. Even the most ridiculous bullshit, like ‘duck feathers are really good for increasing your ability to solve mysteries’. It’s like a curse. Stan hates it, and hates even more that people have started looking at him as an expert on magic in the post-Transcendence world. 

– (Well, okay, so that part means he gets to lord it over Ford a bit, so maybe he doesn’t hate that part all that much.)

– As it turns out (when Ford sits down and studies the phenomenon to try to figure out just how his brother manages to be right about every single thing that he makes up off the top of his head, when Ford himself has been researching post-Transcendence anomalies for years and still hasn’t even published a single article, Stanley –), Stan isn’t describing things that are already true, he is actually writing new magic into existence.

– This is happening because he is ¼ secret witch on his mother’s side, and standing right next to a Demon Magic Explosion only made it worse.

– Now Stan has to be very, very careful what he promises customers 

– and he hates it 

– so much.

Psychic Singularity Ch 02

phenyxsnest:

Mabel was the first to struggle to her feet, as her husband and
grunkles were still tangled up with each other on the floor, slowly
fighting their way free as she scrambled up.

She could hear the kids downstairs, Willow and Hank and Vivi crowding
around the bottom of the stairs and calling. Counting on having a
minute before they came upstairs, she tried to feel out for Dipper. The
bond from her to him was weaker than him to her, but usually she could
feel him, and pull on it to get him to come home.

She felt out and…nothing. She couldn’t feel anything from her
brother, at all, not the faintest hint of where he was or what he was
feeling, and that never happened, not unless…

Hoping he was just shielding from her, she started downstairs,
brushing past her Grunkles, who were now on their feet and glaring at
each other, though thankfully not fighting yet.

Usually she’d try and do something about that, but Henry gave her a
sigh and a nod as she looked at him, letting her know he’d take over
this time. She gave a half smile and hurried downstairs, knowing if she
stayed upstairs she’d get distracted trying to help.

“Your uncle’s having a freak out, your great-great-uncle threw holy
water at him and he disappeared, normal day in the Pines house,” she
called to her kids as she hurried past them into the kitchen.

Continue on AO3 // Continue on FF.net

seiya234:

He remembered
nothing. Not how he got here, not his past, not even his name.

All that he knew was the now, and
the forest.

(There was a nagging feeling that
he had been doing a lot of thematic wandering in forests lately, but that
wasn’t important so he ignored it.)

He felt lightheaded, not as if he
was going to pass out, but like some great weight he had grown accustomed to wearing
had suddenly been removed. In his chest there was an occasional flare of fiery
pain, but as soon as he noticed it, it was gone again. His feet were bare and
the ground was rough, but he didn’t mind. They were definitely taking him
Somewhere, he could feel it as he slipped in between trees and shrubs, a path
known only to a deep part of him. What for and why he had no idea.

But the woods were lovely, dark and
deep. He felt a peace here he knew (how?) that he hadn’t felt as intensely for
a long time.

The trees themselves were rather
interesting; He had a feeling that the types of trees he kept walking by
weren’t supposed to grow in the same forest together. There were the short,
scrubby trees that were either bursting with tiny yellow flowers or long seed
pods that littered the forest floor and constantly crunched under his feet.
Trees with stiff branches that stuck straight out and bristled with millions of
tiny needle like leaves. And finally there were the trees that almost looked
like they were melting; long and limber branches that drooped off the trunk,
tips kissing the ground.

The wind whistling through the
trees sometimes sounded like laughter and sometimes like crying but mostly just
like wind.

He frowned. Was this supposed to be
teaching him some lesson or deliver a Grand and Terrible Truth at the end? That
kind of thing generally only happened to his br-

To his…. his….

It didn’t matter. And the woods
were lovely, dark and deep.

Also really good smelling.

Keep reading

Handyman

astridianmayfly:

I’M BACK TAU LET’S GET THIS SHOW ON THE ROAD!!

1. The Comedian

“Dipper! We have much to discuss!”

Soos smiled as he watched Dipper fade into the circle nonchalantly. Fluffy brown hair and a wilting suit greeted Soos and his childlike greeting. Tired (powerful, golden) eyes stared at him from inside the circle. “Hey, Soos.”

“So Mr. Pines told me that you and Mabel are comin’ up Gravity Falls this weekend! Are you excited?”

Something froze in Dipper’s face. But as soon as the expression came, it was replaced with a forced smile. “Yeah, Mabel’s really excited to be coming to school here. She’s got a lot of friends in her grade.”

Soos, to his enduring credit, did not question the unusual circumstances of the twins moving towns and schools in the middle of high school. Or the fact that Dipper only talked about Mabel’s prospects. He knew that the discussion about the process of the move to the Falls had been riddled with the awkwardness of Mark and Anna’s lack of understanding of this new world they lived in. “Cool! So anyway-”

Dipper cut him off mid-sentence. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I can’t be here for long unless we make a-” his mouth puckered- “deal.”

“Oh yeah, almost forgot.” Soos grabbed a couple bags of chips out from a stash he had under the counter. He tossed them at Dipper in the circle. “How much time?”

Dipper stared at the bags and made an executive decision. “I’d say something like 45 minutes.”

(If it weren’t Soos, the chips would be worth way less. But. The Family Exception was still intact, and Soos was as good as a Pines.)

“I actually need some help from you, dood.”

Dipper smiled. “What this time?”

Soos gave Dipper a faux serious face. “It’s really serious, dood.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Wanna go under the porch and stick money into the cracks and see Stan’s reaction?”

“Was that even a question? Also, I’m putting a bucket of ice water above the door. It’s always good to be prepared.”

“I’ve heard mayonnaise is better.”

“Don’t push it, old man.”

2. The Electrician

Splintering but soft cedar wood adorned the carved door of Soos’ second home, a rickety old weather vane creaking softly as the luminous suns of other galaxies beamed into focus. It was a breezy midnight, emerald evergreens rustling unsurely as the wind roped and snatched at the pine trees decorating the remote shack. He wasn’t positive why Stan had asked him to come to the house, but he said it was something about an electricity error. Soos observed this to be true, the usual golden glow of the lantern in the front of the house was absent from view.

A precocious gale grabbed at Soos’ skin, goosebumps rising to greet the eerie morning. With the change of wind Soos was reminded of just how cold autumns in Oregon were. He reached to knock a third time (having misplaced the pair of keys Mr. Pines gave him) when the door abruptly swung open. With his weight placed in the balls of his feet, Soos nearly fell over by the surprise of his handhold removed. After readjusting his balance, Soos took one look at Mr. Pines at the front door and had to do a double take.

Stan looked like a wreck; his shirt untucked,  buttons undone, and tie untied around his neck. His burgundy fez was practically defying gravity at the corner of his scalp. Soos supposed the only thing holding it up was the friction of unruly, greasy hair. He looked more wrinkly than he should, even for an older man, and his mouth was downturned into an unrelenting frown. His brow was furrowed and his posture bent with the labor of hardship.

He looked like a father.

With an arm bent casually on the frame, Mr. Pines scratched his head and greeted Soos bluntly: “Hey Soos. Electricity’s off.”

Soos pointed up at the forlorn lantern. “I noticed.”

“I’ll help you fix it, but could you get a move on? I was in the middle of something,” Stan said gruffly, ushering Soos into the house.

Soos had a suspicion that Stan wasn’t the one in the house who cared if the electricity was back on or not. But he complied.

“Sure thing, Mr. Pines.”

Soos meandered into the house, a hard feat; with six cardboard boxes stacked up at the entrance. “Don’t mind those, it’s just the kids’ stuff.” Stan mumbled something under his breath that sounded like, “I told them that people were gonna have a hard time getting in, but did they listen? “Noooo Grunkle Stan, we don’t wanna….”

Soos had almost forgot Dipper and Mabel were at the house, and had arrived three days prior. He was fixing a floorboard upstairs when the twins got to the Shack (their new home), and only saw a flash of Mabel’s sweater before she disappeared into her room and closed the door. She chattered for a bit, to who he assumed was Dipper, and then exited the room when Mr. Pines yelled to them down for dinner. She shrieked “Coming!” and was about to plummet down the stairs until Soos called out to her across the hallway.

“Sup, dood?” He said with open arms.

Naturally, Mabel came barreling towards his embrace at the speed of light. “Ohmigosh Soos! I missed you so much!”

Soos laughed. “We’re like, roommates now! ‘Cept Stan only lets me sleep in the break room on Saturdays. Something about ‘being an adult now’ and ‘just get married already…’”

Mabel snorted and jokingly punched his arm. “Soos, you are just too funny! How’s Melody?”

He beamed. “She’s doing great! Hey there, Dipper!”

Soos directed his question to the left of Mabel, praying that he was standing (floating) there. He always did this after the incident that racked the world the summer of 2012, and had left Dipper invisible and slightly demonic. Soos believed that he was there, not only because he had utmost faith in Mabel, but also due to the fact that Dipper had a presence. After that fateful event during the summer, during the couple days where the town was convinced Dipper had died, he would often feel the hairs on the back of his necks stand up randomly. Upon checking the thermostat, he one time watched the temperature drop by a couple degrees and then shoot back up again. Soos, at the time, had passed off these events as unrelated and insignificant occurrences. But in hindsight, he was almost sure an intangible Dipper was hovering past him, screaming for recognition.

Mabel smiled. “Dipper says he’s doing okie-dokie.”

Soos was about to say something else to Dipper, when he was interrupted by Mabel conversing with the air. “Dipper, there’s no way I’m repeating th- Can you stop interrupting me? Thanks. What? Oh yeah, I’ll tell him.” Mabel shifted her gaze back to Soos. “Dipper says that he’ll tell you where your missing screwdriver is if you give him a piece of candy.”

Soos grinned. “Sure thing dood! I’ve been looking for that all day.” Soos grabbed a skittles packet out of his pocket. He tossed it to Mabel, who handed it to thin air. Soos tried not to gape as the packet disappeared out of the air, but internally he shrugged and thought to himself: Honestly? I’ve seen weirder.

Soos was shaken out of his memory by the whine of floorboards coming from the upstairs. Stan grumbled.

Soos peered up at the peeling ceiling. “What woke them up?”

Stan gave Soos a frighteningly soulful gaze. “They’ve been awake the whole night, apparently. I woke up to every single lightbulb in the house breaking.”

“How did that happen?”

Stan didn’t answer his question. “I’m going to grab some spare light bulbs in the basement.” He typed in the code to the vending machine and ventured downstairs.

The house went quiet for a moment, and Soos heard whispers from the top of the stairs. He only caught snippets of what assumed was the twins talking.

“Dipper…”

“All my fault…”

“It’s not a big deal….a goober…”

“…..is Mabel.”

“No one cares…. Soos will fix it…. Stan called…”

He only heard something else, something that could only be described as a sniffle. The house tremored with the sob, and settled down until nothing more remained.

The house plunged into darkness, and Soos was left to stare at the glass on the floor. It glimmered like the eyes of a crying child.

Soos went to the front hall closet and grabbed the broom. Broken parts had no place in his home.

3. The Contortionist

Soos was in his break room, and the walls were screaming.

They thrummed in and out, ebbing and flowing. Soos had tried the door when the earthquake-like effects had begun, but his efforts were useless. It didn’t seem to be locked, almost like the actual door was glued to the frame. He felt the wood, hoping to force it open, and yelped when a piece of it splintered off and jammed itself into his finger. From under the door, an incredibly bright light shone.

And there was screaming. Anguished screaming.

All of a sudden, the walls were pressing in.

His heart in his throat, he could only do so much as whimper as the walls caved in-

-He woke in cold sweat.

Justadreamjustadreamjustadreamjustadream

Soos didn’t think he was going to sleep in the break room anymore. It didn’t really seem like a game, suddenly.

He returned to sleeping, however, and found that the rest of his dreams that night were padded with fluff and grass.

And strange-looking sheep, for some reason.

4. The Thrill Seeker

Mabel was sad.

Some days the sun was shining, and some days it rained. But when it was too hot to bear in the dead of summer, it suddenly became fun when she declared to race around the house to see who could find the fans fastest, and then it wasn’t so bad anymore. In the middle of winter, the miserably frigid air indicated a game to see who could make the most snowballs, and you would feel yourself warm from the inside. With Mabel, the blah stratus clouds of a lazy Sunday became sugar-spun silver and thunder the burp of a god. The world could be raining around them, and Mabel would play games to see who could catch a souvenir of their broken sky. They said love was a weakness, but her positivity ignited everyone into action against the evil.

The sharpest knife was her sadness, and it clawed at Soos’ heartstrings. “What’s got you down? Talk to Soos. According to Wendy, I’m like, a genius at this kind of thing.”

Mabel sighed. “It’s not a big deal! It’s just, well… you know those annoying bird-faeries?” Soos nodded solemnly. “I left the window open for them, because I saw a small colony of poor little ones struggling to make a nest.”

Soos closed his eyes profoundly. “Mabel, you are a saint.”

Mabel smiled sadly. “Yeah, yeah. Well anyways, they took my knitting needles, which was fine, I didn’t really need that pair anyways. I had a better pair, pink bedazzled ones! And then they took those to make their nests, which was a little disappointing, but I could always make another glitter pair, so I didn’t really mind. But today I woke up and twenty of my best sweaters were-” She sniffed- “stolen! I thought Dipper or Stan might’ve moved them or pranked me or something, but when I walked outside today the dumb birds had a mansion- nest!!”

“It’s ok to be sad, Mabel! I know how hard you worked on those.”

Mabel sighed. “And it wasn’t even that that made me sad. I had some gifts in there for holidays and upcoming birthdays and stuff. I know I’m being selfish to be so upset about something so silly, but,” she paused. “I really, really liked those sweaters. They were really authentic, you know?”

Soos let out a deep sigh. “I know how the ruining of hard work can be discouraging. It is important to remember that the value is in like, experience and stuff.”

Mabel gaped. “You’re so wise, Soos!”

Soos was on a roll. “One time I went to the store, and I put the interesting divider in my pile. But the lady working there just glared at me and put it besides my stuff. She does the same thing every single time! It would make such a cool sword. I’m on a conquest to buy it, and nothing will stand in my way!” He punched a fist in the air.

Mabel stood with a determined gaze and grabbed Soos’ shirt collar. “Do you want that super cool sword thing?”

Soos looked Mabel in the eye. “More than anything else in the world.”

Mabel punched her fist in the air. “To the GROCERY STORE!!”

***

They came rushing in later, disheveled and sweating. Mabel had a squirrel in her hair and Soos’ shirt was ripped. But the heroes prevailed; Soos was clutching three or so of the dividers. Mabel slammed the door behind her. Through heavy breaths, she unenthusiastically high fived Soos and walked sluggishly towards the living room. The hard labor of their quest warranted rest, hence Mabel then tossing her sapped limbs onto the ragged couch.

They heard the unmistakable voice of Deputy Durland cawing from outside. “You can run, but you can’t hide!” A bell jingled outside to combat the unmistakable sound of sirens growing louder and louder. Mabel opened the door, screamed, “The only thing you cops hide from is your feelings!” And promptly proceeded to slam the door into the faces of the expectant police people.

Dipper floated in. “Mab- what the hell.” He was about to do the meme-esque-back-out-slowly-this-trecherous-situation-does-not-involve-me retreat when Mabel interjected with a show-and-tell attitude. “Hey Dipper! Wanna see what we stole?”

Dipper stared at her with narrowed eyes. “Stealing is illegal, Mabel.”

“Well, duh! But it was for the greater good. Look what we got!” Mabel ripped the dividers and stuck them in front of his face.

“Agh Mabel, get th-those out of my face.” Dipper pushed the things away from himself. Mabel glanced towards the door. “We should lock that.”

“They can’t search the house without a warrant.” Dipper said, deadpan.

Mabel raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure that Durland actually knows how to read, let alone is actually aware of fancy-schmancy amendments.”

“Well anyways, why did you need those? I could’ve gotten them for you.” Dipper squinted. “Are those the dividers they use in grocery stores?”

“Yes, they are. And we decided to get them because it’s the journey that matters, not the destination.”

Mabel high-fived Soos while he put his hands to his face. “Mabel. So profound!”

Dipper rolled his eyes. “Mabel’s not the profound one, Ralph Waldo Em-”

“Blah blah blah, sorry Dipper,  I don’t speak nerd! But we have an extra sword thing if you want it.” She held the third one out for him to see.

“Come on dood, Mabel and I were gonna duel with them!” Soos gave Dipper an expectant expression.

Dipper tried to condescendingly raise an eyebrow, but failed miserably. Mabel noticed and snorted, before breaking down in peals of laughter. She punched Soos’ arm. “You better spoof up your video editing, we’re gonna need to make a compilation of this. Or better yet, a gag reel to that catchy voice-cracking remix you have buried somewhere.”

Soos cocked his head. “Why, exactly?”

Mabel (expertly) wiggled her eyebrows. “Blackmail.”

Dipper (clearly) did not like to be made fun of. To spite his sibling, he exalted an, “En gardé!” He snatched one of their swords out of Mabel’s hands and floated away with his pilfered weapon.

Mabel put her weapon at the ready, and handed hers to Soos. “No fair! You have the advantage! I’m calling foul on that, mister! Put your feet on the floor and hands in the air!”

Soos chased after them, armed with his divider. “Surrender our property!”

(When Stan came in later after talking with the cops, he made them relinquish their weapons. As he walked away, he was heard grumbling, “If you guys are going to steal, at least steal something useful.”)

5. The Laughing Machine

Soos woke up to the smell of blood, a distinctly iron tang. The walls of the break room had actually not closed in, but Soos still felt his chest tighten at the thought of being in the break room for a second longer. He frenetically jiggled the handle, hoping it wasn’t locked. To his relief, the door creaked open and he burst outside-

-only to find a scene straight out of a horror game.

Every light was flickering, and blood was on the walls at the consistency of Christmas decorations. Soos proceeded with extreme caution. “Doods?”

And then suddenly, a scream.

Soos ran.

Stan and Mabel sat next to a small (boyish) shadow of ebony sitting on the floor, (pouring and splashing and pulsing and screaming). Mabel was deadly calm, a somber stare issued in the tremoring phantom’s direction. She held his (Dipper’s, it had to be Dipper’s) hand in a tight grip, while Mr. Pines sat in a weary stool pulled up next to the pair of them. He was hunched, rubbing his temples in exhaustion. Soos didn’t mistake Stan for being unaware; his eyes had the same determined and serious weight as Mabel’s. And as for the demon(the child)?

His eyes were dead. That was the only possible way to describe those open, scarred orbs, unblinking with complete and utter terror. Occasionally, he would close his eyelids, as if attempting escape, attempting sleep, trying and clawing out of a prison of mental torture.

Poison gold poured out of his eyes, tributaries of teary angst and martyrdom;  he quivered and caved in on himself. The noise, the thousands of bees carving chalk-laden forks onto plates, bawling with the weight of an eternal, immortal burden. Wailing, screaming, yelling, shouting for an ally, a friend, a savior

(a handyman.)

The eyes snapped up. Golden. Predatory. Saddened. Decayed. And they were searching Soos’ being, his soul, and he was as exposed as a dissected frog on a lab table.

A voice echoed off the walls. The doom of power and the demon had a verdict.

I̬̣ ͔̟̜͖̕s͇̞̫̹̜̻a̙̱w͍̱̺ ̸̠̪y͍̝̤͔ͅò̮͈u ̠̼̺̲̝d̤͎͔͕i̻̞͖e̮̯̠, the demon (Dipper) said.

Soos scratched his head.

“Ok, so that’s cool and all, but like how does it happen? Is it like, gruesome? Or wait, please don’t tell me that it’s by eating too many burritos. I don’t want to prove Abuelita right! I really don’t want to suffocate, I seriously hope that isn’t it! Do I die a hero? That would be total badass. Do I-”

He stopped talking. Mabel, Stan, and Dipper all stared at him. Dipper’s eyes were lighter, and suddenly, the shadows the room was wreathed in disappeared. Dipper opened his mouth to breathe, and Soos feared for the worst.

The reaction threw him for a loop.

Dipper was laughing.

“Oh man, Soos, that was one hell of an exorcism.”

Pseudomnesia 4/8, Part 2

soulsinshadow:

Story link

In which a scavenger hunt (minus the clues) begins and the Mystery Cult expands its membership. Elsewhen, elsewhere, Mabel fights a warlock and Dipper makes his first deal with Henry. Whistling figures prominently.

Part 4 (Part 2) of this trainwreck.

I’m a good three weeks late this time around, but I’m gonna say it anyway. Happy birthday, TAU! Maybe one of these days I will finish unwrapping your present.

“Just tear it off!” someone shouts.

“I like to save the paper,” I say, carefully peeling off another corner.

Three Year Anniversary

angryinterrobang:

It’s three years since the end of the world and- what is that?

Mabel Pines takes a deep breath. It is not enough, she has to take another and another. In the corner Dipper Pines has forgotten how to reform himself into human shape. He is a mass of black bile, a thousand eyes, and glowing gold areas of energy leaking out from every curve.

“We’ve got brown hair, brobro. Remember?” she says finally. The mass, Dipper it’s still Dipper, writhes in unreality. She smiles at him. “We’ve got brown hair and brown eyes.You’ve got a birthmark on your forehead.”

As she speaks Dipper closes his many eyes and shifts to match her description. The skin is a little too waxy. The suit is a little too clean.

Dipper mimics her deep breath. “I think I just had a power up.”

“Awesome!” says Mabel. “But you made yourself waaay too tall.”

Their conversation is punctuated by a small explosion in the subbasement. 

It’s the end of the world and Candy Chiu holds the fire extinguisher high. They have just prevented a being from another reality from mating with Dr. Pines face. 

She isn’t sure she likes Interning with Dr. Pines. He doesn’t seem to believe in the laws of physics or OSHA compliance. He seems to be taking the existence of aliens in stride. She’s not sure what he’ll write on her letter of recommendation to be an engineer. It is however a great chance to try out all her different ideas for weapons. The extinguisher she’s holding also doubles as a flame thrower.

It’s the end of the world and Stan Pines is sitting in the corner of the lab laughing at both of them. He appears to be rooting for the monster. When Dr. Pines finally pulls it from his head Stan punches it back through the newly made portal. They tease each other. The brothers are comfortable enough to joke again.

Candy can’t wait to see what happens next.

It’s the end of the world and Tad Strange has replaced his arm with a lobster claw. Whoopsyadaisy!

It’s the end of the world and Pacifica Northwest is braiding Old Man McGucket’s beard. She’s starting to think she likes helping people; likes taking care of them. If only she were any good at it- the braid turns into a tangle and gets all sorts of hair in his soup. He plays a song for her on his banjo.

“Oh my darlin’,

Oh my darlin’,

Oh my darlin’, Pacifica~

She’s gainin’ her independence-

‘Cause she’s really terrifica~”

Pacifica covers her mouth but still can’t stop the giggles.

It’s the end of the world and Grenda is kissing a vampire. He’s a little bitey. If kissing every kind of cute boy IN THE WORLD wasn’t on her bucket list she thinks she’d probably deck him. She thinks it over and decides to deck him anyway.

It’s the end of the world and Wendy’s back in town. It looks smaller somehow, now that she’s been all around the country beating down nasties. She finds the people here seem kinder where before she’d found them boring. Most of her old crew has gone on to their next thing; Robbie and Tambry went off to different colleges, Lee and Nate wanted to be cops which still blows her mind, even Thompson is in some kind of SynthCountry Pop Group touring round Sacramento.

That’s okay. When it matters Wendy always knows where to find the beating heart of Gravity Falls.

She wanders to The Mystery Shack, ignores the ‘Closed for Honeymoon!!! :)’ sign on the door, puts her muddy feet up on the counter like she used to. “Can I get some service here?” Wendy shouts as a cool as she can. “How’s a girl supposed to get ripped off around here?”

“Wendy!” Mabel levitates down the stairs. Her hug feels like it comes with an extra unseen weight. “Dipper’s here too. He’s just a little tired out today.”

When Wendy closes her eyes she’s sure she can feel the beating of wings, smell the copper tang of blood, sense an eye looking at her. She ignores those instincts and high fives the air.

“It’s okay, dudes,” says Wendy. “It’s not the end of the world.”

Perhaps she’s right.

We’re still here.

seiya234:

“Your problem is kiddo, you think you can get one over on
me.”

Stan’s butt was sore from the wooden spoon paddling Ma had
just given him and all he wanted to do was go back to his room and Not Sulk
Because He Got Caught… but his Ma’s voice made him pause.

Ma went on, putting the aforementioned wooden spoon into the
gravy she was making for tonight’s dinner.

“See, I always know when you’re lying because it takes a
liar to know a liar. And-“ she pulled the spoon out and pointed it at Stan, who
narrowly avoided getting hit with tomato sauce.

“You’ll never be able to surprise me because I’m Mr. Fucking
Fox. The only one who pulls the wool over people’s eyes in this house is me.”

“Not even Da?”

His Ma had snorted and went back to stirring the gravy.

Especially not
your Da.”

And now here he was at 96 and it turned out his Ma still had
the ability to surprise him even after all this time.

“It’s addressed to you kiddo,” he said.

Willow smirked, and looked at his hands that were clutching
for dear life onto the faded looking envelope.

The faded looking envelope with his mother’s handwriting on
it.

The faded looking envelope with the correct address, today’s
date, and in the addressee line, “Willow Miriam * Pines.” Stan didn’t know what
his Ma had meant by that “*” but it evidentially meant something to Willow
considering that she paled slightly when she saw it.

“How… how did you get this again?” Stan asked and his voice
was not shaking thank you very much,
maybe he had gotten a little soft in his old age but a man still had his pride
damnit.

Willow sat down next to him at the kitchen table.

“Guy in a business suit came up to me today at the front
desk. Kind of looked spooked, but he said that he was from a credit union in
New Jersey. He kind of threw this on my desk and ran.”

Stan noticed some tape residue; he had a feeling knowing Ma
that there had been something on
there that would compel a complete stranger to come across country just to
deliver an almost- he looked at the date- eighty year old package.

He looked back up at his nibling.

“You’ve been expecting this.”

Willow nodded, her yellow eyes that he still hadn’t gotten
used to three years on glistening a little bit.

“She promised me she’d send me stuff about… about family.
Like her. And me.”

Stan handed the thick envelope back to Willow.

“Then you open it Willow-bean.”

“Grunkle Stan, I-“

“Will you please open the damn thing I’m not getting any
younger here.”

Smiling a bit, Willow did. She pulled out a massive sheaf of
typewritten pages; Ma probably did that on the clunky old beater Pa kept in the
pawn shop for bookkeeping that he never oiled. It was a good thing Ma did for
Willow. And he’d be interested in reading it too, Ma never did talk much about
her family with him and Ford and-

“This is for you Stan.”

Willow gently placed a smaller envelope on his lap.

“For my little free spirit.”

All these years on and she was still surprising him.