hey man i appreciate the compliment! the second half of this ask was overdramatic as fuck tho lmao
What an unnecessary ask. Alex has been asked about it and has said to let people do what they want. So anon can fuck right off. Your art is, of course, amazing.
Anyone who’s ever spent more of a week on the road than on their
feet or in a bed, has probably heard a few rumors about a town called Gravity
Falls.
Joan wasn’t a truck driver, not by trade, but she was never
in the same state for more than a few days, and she’d gotten to know dozens of
semi-handlers besides. That was where she got scuttlebutt about the grand
reopening of the one and only Mystery Shack, purveyor of wonder and intrigue.
She was a bit of a hunter. A hunter of the strange and
paranormal. A lot of people make claims – everyone and their granny has a story
about seeing ghosts – but when Joan came swinging by all those phantoms seemed
to get a little shy. That was when the excuses came out: “They must not like
you,” “It’s not the right time of day,” “You just don’t believe hard enough.”
S’all bullshit. Those cranks never understood just how much
she wanted to believe. How
disappointed she was as she drove away.
That was why she went to Gravity Falls a few years back.
Everyone who’d ever even so much as passed by had a tale to tell, every one of
them far less believable than any
ghost story she’d heard. But that only made her believe more.
She never saw anything. She had this feeling the whole time she spent within its borders, that there was
something underneath the surface, hiding in the air itself, in between all the
atoms…. But that was the extent of it. She’d met with disappointment before,
they were pretty good friends all things considered, but something about being
failed by this town hurt just a little bit more.
That was when she’d come upon the Mystery Shack, and how
excited she’d been to find it. Surely, if there was something more, it had to be found in the place
that advertised it on its doors.
But the old man running the joint was a huckster, peddling
lazy lies and cheap thrills. She could appreciate his business savvy, but she
hadn’t been there to take lessons on swindling and exploiting the gullible; she
was back on the road within the hour.
But the rumors had said, This
time, it’d be different. Under new management, they said.
ahhhh i was hoping the epilogue would be a glimpse of them running the new and improved mystery shack and you did not disappoint :’) thank you so much for all the time and effort you put into writing this, i loved every moment of reading it and it damn if it didn’t make my tuesdays and fridays 1000% more bearable. mannn this was the pines twins (and triplets) through and through whoever has not yet given this a read please do! /193874 clapping emojis/
Summary: After being unsatisfied with their lives, Dipper and Mabel move back to Gravity Falls to reopen the Mystery Shack, and something scary and new starts bubbling under the surface. But the sudden appearance of a third party throws even their sibling relationship into chaos.
He managed to pry Dipper off him after about half an hour of
half-sitting half-standing there, listening to Dipper mumble out bits of what
had happened, Tyrone’s thoughts too jumbled to do anything other than nod and
squeeze his shoulder. The position had been uncomfortable, in a direct,
physical way, but even after Dipper’s onslaught Tyrone enjoyed the feeling of
Dipper against his chest. Did that make him weird? That probably made him
weird.
He maneuvered Dipper to the bed and sat him on the edge, and
he would’ve perched himself right next to him and grabbed his hand if Dipper
hadn’t curled his arms around his waist the second he let go. Tyrone sat next
to him anyways, Dipper leaning slightly onto his shoulder, but after another
near-hour of silence Tyrone got the impression Dipper needed to be on his own
for a while.
He left and walked to Mabel’s door and stood outside for a
good 10 minutes, trying to work up the nerve to knock. He wanted to know what
happened, and while he heard enough between Dipper’s shouting and his murmurs
to put two and two together, Mabel could probably fill in whatever gaps he was
missing. But the air around her room felt tense, and he wasn’t sure if it was
dripping out from Mabel herself or if it was just the old fear of having to
confront her again. Either way, he couldn’t manage to flick his knuckles
against the door.
He spent the most of that day meandering from empty room to
empty room of the too quiet Shack trying his best not to think, feeling
lonelier than he had in a while. He’d spent so much of the past few weeks
around Dipper, and so much of the weeks before that with Mabel, that he had
found being by himself a chore. He
tried not to think about how much Mabel and Dipper must’ve felt this.
He kept an eye on their bedroom doors, making sure that if
one of his two roommates stepped foot outside of theirs he’d be there to greet
them, and when he wasn’t doing that he was reading his printout, the one that
told him to the gram what his body was composed of, the raw numbers keeping his
heavier thoughts at bay. But their doors stayed shut, even as lunch- and
dinner-time passed, and when he woke up the next day from a night troubled
sleeping he saw those same unopened doors.
He couldn’t take another day of sitting and waiting for them
to open. But he also couldn’t take being the one to open them.
So he went outside, and started walking, and without meaning
to he found his way to the Sprites’ small forest valley.
non-suspicious 