The lights flash. The music thumps. Mabel’s feet bounce in time to the infectious beat, a massive grin upon her face as she twirls a hand through the air. It’s nothing more than a Youtube video cast from her phone to the TV, but as far as she’s concerned she’s center stage at the hottest club in town.
*~c~r~e~a~k~*
It’s a quiet sound from the hallway. Subtle. Sneaky. But it’s blood in the water to her ears despite his efforts.
Mabel darts towards him and Dipper squeals as his wrist is caught. She yanks him into the living room, spiralling around him as they connect so as not to lose the precious momentum of the music. He accepts his fate, dropping his hands to her hips.
She sets her arms on his shoulders, clasping her hands behind his head. She grins widely at him as she sets the tempo of the dance. His eyes are bewildered. She can tell he expected the drums, but she’s moving to the words. He has so little imagination.
Dipper glares at her and shoves his hand into her cleavage. Mabel gasps in surprise, but she can’t do much since the dance hasn’t stopped. He retrieves the phone from her hiding place and his finger flits across the screen as they continue to spin.
The song abruptly stops, a new one now casting to the TV. Mabel knows it, a favorite of his, but the change breaks her tempo and gives him an opening. He takes command of the dance. To the drums, of course.
Mabel tries to roll her eyes at him in disapproval, but he waggles his eyebrows mockingly before she can. She puffs her cheeks at his provocation, but she has to admit she’s a bit pleased when he slips the phone inside his pants with a wink. A little escalation, hm? She always did like when his imagination proved her wrong.
Storm stories are pinecest tradition. Since I grew up with hurricanes, seems right I should make mine during one.
The sky is gray. The air is cool. The wind is restless, yet somehow Mabel feels like everything is still.
She’s sitting in a wicker chair, watching the trees and bushes sway with the gusts, waves rolling up the beach behind them. It’s a strange sensation, that still feeling. She sees the plants sway to and fro almost constantly, yet it is the moments when they stop, when the water drifts softly back into the ocean, that stick with her. That build the mood of the calm before the storm. The peculiar harbingers of the devastation that will soon arrive if not for her.
She wonders if those who lived here in the days before satellites saw these hints, knew what they meant. If they would have merely thought some lesser storm were on its way. A simple rain shower or the vibrant power of thunder storm, all dwarfed equally by the maelstrom now coming. How could they have known any difference in the signs without mankind’s mechanical eyes in the sky?
i lov topsans fell,cst so much im dying please,. please. i don’t want to die like this, im so thirsty.,,, i could make content for it myself but that’s like a tree sustaining itself off of its own rotting fruits
non-suspicious 