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Twenty Questions
An Avarice AU fic starring @thelastspeecher‘s OC Angie.
on AO3
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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
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If Stan can manipulate probability, what would happen if he got his hands on the infinity-sided die?
If Stan got his hands on an infinity-sided die…
Be afraid.
Be ve̷r͝y̨ afraid.
In his career as a paranormal educator, Dipper publishes a book, perhaps a layperson's guide to interacting with the paranormal safely and ethically. Its dedication: "To Grunkle Ford, without whose intellect I would not have this knowledge to share, and to Grunkle Stan, without whose courage I would not be alive to share it."
This is perfect and all the mods are squeeing
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.
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How Stan Became Mercuriat
“And what’s your demonic pseudonym going to be?”
Ford sat in the living room, a pile of books in front of him, while Stan floated above him, wobbling a bit. Damn if getting the hang of these stupidly-placed wings wasn’t hard as hell.
“My demonic pseudowha?” Stan said. Even though he knew what a pseudonym was, especially with that whole ‘infinite knowledge’ perk he had now, he would never miss the opportunity to get his brother to speak like a normal human, like Stan. Or, well, not like Stan, anymore.
A flicker of irritation passed Ford’s face. “Your nickname, Stan, your nickname.”
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