To Answer A Question On Avarice...

To answer a question on Avarice...

Hold onto your hats ladles and jellyspoons, because I accidentally wrote a 5 page fic to answer this one.

Summer was coming to a close, and with the twins’ birthday celebrations planned and ready to go, there was one more event on the calendar before the school year started up again.

“Stanley! What did you do with my tent?”

“… Sixer why do you need that. It’s in the attic. And why is it flourescent orange with green squiggles?”

“For Combusting Dude, what else? And they are not ‘squiggles’ it’s an energy direction array to ensure maximum rest from minimum sleep. Also a vomit repellant.”

“You. Want to go to Combusting Dude.”

“Of course, I used to do this every year! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me it was still going, I have 30 years to catch up on. Where did you put my giant self-propelling stag beetle?”

“Well I originally put it in the back room but then it set the curtains on fire so, uh… Part of it is in the flatypus, one bit’s holding up the toepher, and you’re sitting on the rest of it.”

Ford looked down, and admittedly the wooden structure underneath him did have certain stag-beetle-esque qualities.

Keep reading

thanks to @marypsue for that one convo on text like two months ago that helped me with this idea and now i’m actually writing it out, 12/10 friending

——-

He looked at the clock. 2:44. 

Though this was his third sleepless night in a row, Henry could appreciate Mabel snoring away next to him. Nothing got between Mabel and a good six to eight hours of sleep: not a demon brother, or Stan’s poker nights, or three babies suffering from colic all at once-

Or one of their children being kidnapped.

Or what Henry did to get her back. 

A split second memory, of the feeling of bones breaking and healing and breaking and healing over and over in rapid succession as his body got the orders to grow, of the anger that fueled that growth…

He had been so angry.

No.

Henry turned over and away from Mabel, as if doing so would let him ignore the flush and heat of his skin that still hadn’t gone away, the twitchiness of his muscles that let him know it could happen all over again-

He still was. 

That wasn’t the problem. 

There was a small part of him (and indeed, in his head that part of him looked just like he did in kindergarten, black t-shirt from K-mart and unruly hair and missing baby teeth that didn’t all fall out on their own) that was always angry. That had started being angry when he was three and already had learned not to talk back, and had only grown in strength since then.

He was used to that.

He was used to ignoring that. Hell, Henry prided himself on never acting on that anger. And even when he did lose his temper, he never raised his voice, much less his hands. He swore to himself, long ago, he would never do either.

Henry couldn’t say that about himself, not any more. 

It didn’t matter that it was “for the best possible reason” (as Mabel had put it this evening.) Maybe this time it was- but what about the next time? And the next time after?

Because, Henry had a sick feeling there would be a next time. And a next time after that. And after that as well.

Because 45 years of fighting had fallen away, all too easily, in one second. And he had done everything he did without a second thought, without any hesitation at all. 

He looked at the clock. 2:46. 

Pi mo helping Stan out of trouble? Or something with Never Human AU! Do you stick to the whole "faeires get burned by iron" thing?

That time Stan accidentally cast his spirit out of his body and Pi had to possess it, so other certain things with less good intentions wouldn’t be able to take over it.

And to the NH AU Q - Yep, though if it’s the changeling in their human form its more like an allergic reaction (but also depends on the mental state of the fae. could be minor or intense) and in full fae form iron burns them (btw you know that symbol that got burned into Stan’s back. Well i got the idea that because the metal was hot and had iron properties, it’s the reason why the burn never healed properly ;A;).

Two people walk into the hospital.

(there is something to be said about being induced and not having to live out fifty ‘woman in labor’ cliches is one of them).

The woman has her hair done in a million tiny braids and is wearing a sweater emblazoned with a massive explosion and the words “READY TO POP!”. She’s not walking so much as she is waddling with purpose, and looks, for lack of a better term, like a big grape stuck through a toothpick. Her face is painted- literally- in red glitter paint.

(“It’s my battle face!”)

The man next to her is somehow even more noticeable. A few months ago, that wouldn’t have been the case; usually it was the laugh beat of ‘tall guy short girl’ before looking back at Mabel.

Even now there was no real reason to stare at the man, not when the woman next to him had started letting out Xena yells. Yes he was rather tall, and crowned with an impressive mass of curly red hair. But he is dressed rather plain in comparison to his wife- black jeans, a long black collared shirt, with black boots and belt. Nothing out of the ordinary, no reason for people to conspicuously get as far out of the way from the couple as humanly possible, and yet-

(a weight on the air, like a great and terrible storm is rolling in, and eyes in a blue that is not usually human standard, and above all, the force of will that keeps everything in check…)

They check in, Stan and Dipper following behind them carrying bags of fast food- even though both Mabel and Henry had explained that this was only going to be three or four hours as opposed to nine or twelve.

Dipper has brought his Switcheroo, his laptop, and four books. Stan has a pack of cards.

Henry looks at Mabel, who shrugs. Three hours is a long time after all.

(it’s not, really)

Keep reading

I am flesh and I am bone

I’ll rise, ting ting, like glitter and gold

I’ve got fire in my soul

Rise up, ting ting, like glitter

Like glitter and gold

Reblog if you like it :0

Meeting A Star

Close friends and family see Dipper’s object form for the first time.

On AO3 // On FF.net

Mabel

Mabel stared at her brother, blinking slowly. He blinked back with a single eye, tiny little pipe cleaner arms shifting restlessly.

This was new.

Part of Mabel was screaming, huddling down inside her sweater, memories of a a triangle and her brother’s screams echoing inside her head.

The rest was seeing through her brother’s bravado, his attempt at pretending everything was okay, as if he wasn’t upset about this development.

“…you think this is permanent?” she asked after a few minutes had passed, needing to say something but this time worried about saying something that would send both of them spiraling out of control and knowing she had to be the adult in this situation despite their parents being just downstairs because they wouldn’t be any help right now and that wasn’t fair to her but it was the truth.

The joking could come later, to make them both feel better.

“No, I’m just too tired to stay human shaped,” her brother answered, thankfully,  both of them relieved by his answer. “I think how I usually look is my default form now, and this is sort of…a power saving mode? I’m still working on the details.”

Mabel nodded as Dipper spoke, doing her best to hide how freaked she’d been. He could see her moods now, faintly, so he had to know, but it didn’t mean she had to be obvious about it. Now that she was calming down, though…well…her brother was pretty cute as a star.

But he was also still pretty obviously upset about this. Well, that couldn’t stand! It was time to unleash the Power of Mabel!

“Wait here, broseph,” she said, gesturing with both hands outspread. “Just hang out in here and wait.”

Impatiently, and more than a little nervously, Dipper waited. He knew Mabel loved and accepted him, but…what ifs kept playing through his mind, and he began to float back and forth across the room, the closest he could come to pacing while like this.

This was going to be a long wait.

Keep reading