I drew it 🙂

Spirit and Such, Chapter Eight

She had only planned on spending her birthday moping around the house, but visiting Jake sounded more appealing the more time she spent at lunch. Conversation began innocently enough, with her parents taking turns making fun of each other’s mishaps. Then the two soon started reminiscing about embarrassing moments from Delina’s own childhood, and by the time Briony brought out the baklava and apple bread, the word “scrapbook” hovered over them, thick and expectant like a fog of chicken soup in cold season. Delina made short work of her plate and excused herself as soon as she was able.

(Continue on AO3)

Psychic Singularity Ch 18

phenyxsnest:

Willow woke disoriented and short of breath. Automatically she groped
for her inhaler, frowning when the attack passed as quickly as it had
come on.

Why…oh, right. If this place was even partially her uncle’s
mindscape, then he’d use his power and keep her from having an attack,
no matter how scattered he was. It wouldn’t work in reality, or anywhere
but the mindscape, but in here…it seemed the usual rules didn’t
apply.

She was torn for a second between irritation at being coddled and
touched that he still watched out for her, even when he was literally
torn apart.

Touched won, but only just. Mostly because, well, Uncle Dipper was suffering right now, but still watching out for them.

Suddenly realizing that she was leaning on something soft, something
that smelled familiar, she sat up in a rush. Lolonja baa-ed at her
softly and comfortingly, and Willow felt herself relax.

Lolonja was good to have around, almost like having part of her Uncle Dipper here.

Glancing around, she saw Smooches patrolling a close circle with them
at the center, turning to look when they heard Lolonja’s baa.

“T҉h͘e ͜S͠hack͘ i҉s nea͘r,” Lolonja said quietly as Willow got to her feet. “Sha͞l͏l we g҉o t͜h̸ere f͢i̢r̨st͝?”

“I suppose someone has to,” Willow said finally, as the urge to go out there, find parts of Uncle Dipper,

do something

, fought with the knowledge that she needed to be responsible, and the responsible thing to do was to regroup at the Shack.

“There͏ ͡m̨ay be̢ part ̵o͝f̶ th͜e͞ Ma͜st̵er at͜ t̕he Shac̡k͞,”
Lolonja offered, as if sensing what Willow was thinking. “It ͟is̸ his͏
ho̵me̵, so s̡o͜m͘e̕ par̵t̶ o͝f h̶i̸m҉ ͜ve̕r̨y li͟k̛ely ͏may ̧h̸ave̵
fle̵d th͟ere.”

Continue on AO3 // Continue on FF.net

Read the mafia post, wondered for a moment who the heck Auriga’s father IS, anyway, and had sudden beautiful thought: Some poor sperm bank worker shrieking “PINES?!” like they’d just found a snake in their coffee.

Auriga’s dad is a nice, reasonably good looking man named Justin! Willow met him at a bar in New Mexico, explained what she wanted, and he was on board. They got together a few times before Willow got pregnant, and amicably parted ways afterwards.

Willow sends Justin pictures and updates throughout Auriga’s childhood, and Justin always remembers Christmas and Auriga’s birthday, but for the most part is happy being a slightly better connected sperm donor.

Spirit and Such, Chapter Seven

twixtandshout:

Delina didn’t speak much that night. She didn’t answer when Briony asked how theater had gone, or when Rasia asked if she wanted to help make dinner, or when the both of them asked if she had any plans for tomorrow. She didn’t eat much, either, instead pushing her food around her plate before giving up and excusing herself for the night.

Sleep didn’t come easily, and when it did, she dreamed…

(Continue on Ao3)

What would the mafia be like if Willow and/or Acacia started it? If they had all started it together?

Acacia

So here’s the thing about Acacia
She’s not a great leader and she’s kind of selfish and lazy
all of which she will readily admit! She is basically a human cat and owns it! Bossing her siblings around is all the bossing she wants to do to be honest.
but well
she’s a pines
she doesn’t like bullies
and if something isn’t being corrected in time well
no one knows better than Acacia than how to fix it.
so think less mafia
and more the occasional posse- a mass of friends and family and random bystanders swept into the wake of Hurricane Acacia to Fight Wrong and Triumph Over Evil

Willow

if you told Willow that the ever growing and expanding network of her foster children and kids she takes in and all of their friends and Gary seemed suspiciously like what Hank has going on in Portland
she would laugh in your face
it is most certainly not like that.
willow has no grand allusions of leadership or Making a Difference in the World
willow likes kids
willow likes raising kids and helping them, but without all that pregnancy mess (once was more than enough thank you very much)
willow has the ability to not only help kids out of bad situations, but is fortunate to have the room and resources to house them and take care of them and love them and after all
those who can should do for those who cannot
this is not a mafia
absolutely not.
this is just the development over a fifty year period and a five-county area
of a whole bunch of civic minded young adults who started out as scared kids
who have a demon uncle and a lady who shoots fire they call Mom or Momma or Ma or Mommy or whatever

totally NOT a mafia, no matter how many things the kids call her in on thank you very much.

Hey A- er, Sam! How did you find out about Delina’s powers? Even her friends at school didn’t know about them.

twixtandshout:

Sam: Well, for one thing, Delina’s parents keep her out of school specifically so people don’t find out about her fire magic. I have… other means.

Sam: I might not have put it the best way before, but it’s true that I’ve been keeping an eye on her for a while now. Since birth, you could say. It’s the least I could do when it’s my fault she has that power in the first place.

A Mob Boss Sam? That sounds like a story- you willing to tell?

twixtandshout:

Sam: There’s not much of a story to tell, honestly. Being a Pines, I’ve got some old family ties to the Dinner Crew, and I owed some people. It was a pretty shortlived arrangement.

Delina: Sure sounds like a story to me… Also, wait, didn’t the Dinner Crew disband, like, 500 years ago?

Spirit and Such, Chapter Six

twixtandshout:

The trees seemed to shift around their little group as Sam lead the three of them through the forest. Delina tried to count the twists and turns, mapping them against the route she normally took, but then they would pass a landmark that, by her reckoning, should have been entirely somewhere else and she would have to start over.

Had the path been this long the first time Sam walked her here? Shivering, she pressed a little closer to him.

“Well, here we are,” Sam announced, fumbling with a ring of clanking metal strips. He scraped one against the doorknob, muttered something, and tried a different one, which slid in, but refused to to turn. The third went in and turned, but the door stuck until he kicked it open, grumbling. “The – ow – office. Make yourselves at home.”

Mags stared as Delina made her way to the sagging couch, taking in the torn posters, paper-littered desk, and peeling, smoke-stained wallpaper. “This is your office? Looks like the apartment a washed-up TV star moves into when he finally hits rock bottom.”

(Continue on Ao3)

Spirit and Such, Chapter Five

twixtandshout:

“What do you mean?” Delina gasped, struggling to get her breathing under control. “I… what are you–”

Sam dragged himself out of the bush with a huff and sat on his heels, brushing twigs and dirt off today’s azure suit. “I was waiting for you, obviously. Didn’t want to risk your mom’s temper again.” He shivered. “I’ve faced down monstrosities that would haunt your nightmares, but I swear, nothing strikes fear into the heart like an angry mother.”

Delina, who had once been caught roasting s’mores in bed, could sympathize. “Okay, that explains why you’re out here. But what do you mean, ‘call you’?”

He flapped his arms at her. “You know, call? Like…” His hand made a strange sign, thumb coming up behind his ear and pinky hovering over his mouth – the same gesture he had made the last time she’d seen him. Not that that made understanding it any easier.

When her eyes failed to glow in comprehension, he slumped. “Let me guess. No one uses telephones anymore.”

“Those things?” She gaped at him. “They’re, like, a thousand years old!”

(Continue on Ao3)