Yet another Pinecest Blog.
- My Fics - Pinecest Appreciation Project -
Header artwork created by @pineneedleshurt, a gift from @stella-facem-ducens. Avatar courtesy of @spywi.
(opens Tumblr for first time in ages, sees this ...)
Yeah, I'm among the "inactive" (my last Pinecest story posted was 2020). Sorry about that. In my case, it's not been that I've fallen out of love with the ship. In fact, I still have a document that has over a dozen plot outlines and ideas that I still believe would make for great stories. It's more that other things have gotten in the way (busier life, other writing interests). I suspect it's the same with a great many other writers from the golden era.
For what it's worth, I will leave my blog here for as long as Tumblr wants to keep it here, even if I don't update it any longer. But as much as I may want to add to this and make more stories, I just don't know if it's going to happen.
Hey. I found your old GF pinecest fic and I thought I was good. It also made me wonder something just now after seeing something from somebody. Is it wrong to like incest relationships in fiction? I don't support it in real life but idk
No, I don't think there's anything wrong with incest relationships in fiction. It is *fiction*, after all. I write about very taboo subject matters with no suggestion that any of this is real.
It isn't wrong to like murder mysteries in fiction: do you think people would accuse you of "supporting murder" in real life if you enjoyed a story that included characters being killed? Why should incest be any different? Why would I be automatically "supporting incest" if I like the stories?
I imagine that a truly mentally disturbed person may be unable to draw distinction between fiction and reality, or a fragile person may be "triggered" by something that upsets them (regardless if the fictional subject matter is incest, murder, or any other action that is forbidden in real life), but frankly a creator of a fictional work cannot be responsible for that. Ideas can and should be freely expressed, and how others choose to react to the fact that these ideas exist is up to them.
I also don't think anything is different when my subject matter involves sexual activity of underage characters. I write fiction as an adult for an adult audience, and I tag my stories appropriately. Tumblr is completely free to remove my stories if they wish (they already have with one of them). If they do, I won't cry about it, it's their choice. I have other places to post.
For what it's worth, I do *not* support incest in real life, particularly underage. Even if a scenario is completely consensual (a debatable notion in most situations), there's still an awful lot of things that can happen that really make it a bad idea. There are perfectly valid reasons why incest is legally and morally forbidden in pretty much the entire world. I can have this opinion, and also have the opinion that enjoying it in a fictional setting is perfectly acceptable. Normal human brains are more than capable of knowing the difference. Hopefully more people can get their heads around this basic fact, instead of losing their minds over what fictional characters are doing.
I was very happy with the possible return of DP and reading your post, that probably isn't her was heartbreaking.
Well, it seems that I was likely incorrect in that assessment. I replied to that previous ask without really "looking into it" at all (I just glanced at the "new" doublepines page for a couple of seconds). Since then, there's been enough evidence to convince me that it *is* the genuine DoublePines, after all. So unbreak that heart!
(I don't think we should be expecting a new flood of her excellent stories and artwork. But the fact that she has "come back" at all after all this time ... that's pretty cool. I'm glad she's continued to find this crack ship enjoyable.)
Would you know what name Doublepines is using now? Or if she publishes her work on some platform currently?
And...
https://doublepines.tumblr.com
That's not her, right?
I honestly have no idea, since I did not know her at all. She left the Pinecest scene years ago. I have no clue as to whether or not she has continued to draw anything since, nor is it my business to know (since she wanted her "doublepines" persona to be anonymous).
And as far as who is current owner of the "doublepines" moniker, it seems extraordinarily unlikely to be her. I do know that a Tumblr ID becomes fair game for anyone to claim if an account is closed, so that's the most likely answer: someone just grabbed the name and posted that up as a laugh.
I'm not sure if you know anything about this but a year or two ago, there was a high quality MEGA archive of Limey404's Pinecest work that was being passed around Gravity Falls proship spaces. I had the file but for some reason, I made the idiotic decision to delete it and now I can't find it anymore. Do you know anything about an archive of their work?
Go hit up @cornytyrannosaurus, who is the august maintainer of the definitive Pinecest archive.
If you're referring to the continuation of the story that I started here (over three years ago? yikes!), unfortunately I have no progress to report. My outline document for that story sits unchanged, waiting for me to get back to it.
Even though I now once again profess my intent to continue writing these stories, I can also see how little such words can mean at this point. First I was distracted by my work on a long original novel, and now even that is on hold. Being open about this drought I'm going through, I can honestly say that I want to be writing again, but circumstances (both in and out of my control) are such that it's just not working for me, at least not right now. I wish I had a better answer for you.
Months later, and it finally now occurs to me what this Anon was actually asking: they want to know what happened to the Tumblr post that contains my story “Exposure” (when you click the link to the story from my masterlist, you get a “not found” error).
So what happened there was I reblogged that post last Christmas (as the story takes place on Christmas Day), something I’ve done a few times since I wrote it years ago. The story contains very softcore descriptions of sexuality. Well, someone (or a bot) didn’t like it this time, and my original post from 2015 was summarily and silently deleted (without option of appeal). I decided then that I’m pretty much done with Tumblr as a going concern, and if I write anything new (I haven’t given up hope that I will), it won’t be here. I’d rather you read it on AO3.
Anyway, I just now updated the Masterlist, linking to the AO3 version of “Exposure” if you still want to read that story. Apologies to this Anon for being so obtuse. :-)
I just discovered your blog and I'd just like to say that you are an incredible fanfic writer. The pinecest fandom has never recovered from the dark days and likely never will but good samaritans such as yourself make things nicer for all of us.
That's very sweet, thank you! I appreciate the kind words. Nice to see people still enjoying my old stories.
Have a low effort fic I wrote, it’s like 11k words and has porn, I’ll update the others soon
Ten Years Tomorrow: Part One
“I found God, I found him in a lover. When his hair falls in his face and his hands so cold they shake… I've got a lover, a love like religion. I'm such a fool for sacrifice… I've got a lover, and I'm unforgiven. I'm such a fool to pay this price.”- Halsey, Coming Down
Part two
Mabel was warm and comfortable, and she nuzzled further into her pillow with a contented smile. The bed she was in was far more comfortable than her own, which would normally have struck her as odd, but she was barely conscious and therefore gave precisely zero fucks.
College was stressful, and the comfy-as-a-cloud bed she’d been sleeping in was a far cry from her own standard college dorm room issued mattress. Turning over to face the sun streaming in through the curtains, Mabel blinked her eyes open sleepily.
Huh. Weird.
Those weren’t her curtains. That was… concerning, to say the least. Come to think of it, why wasn’t she in her bed? She was fairly certain she’d gone to sleep in it the night before. Had she spent the night with somebody without remembering it, maybe? Wait, no, yeah, she had most definitely gone to sleep in it the night before.
Whelp. Nothing to do but pee, she supposed. She got up, scratching her scalp lightly, and strode across the surprisingly large and well-furnished bedroom (deeeeeeeeefinitely not her dorm, like. For sure) and stepped through a door that was opened just a crack.
She glanced around the fancy schmancy bathroom (a walk-in shower and a garden tub, oooo! What she wouldn’t give for a bath bomb!), not really paying attention to the mirrors above the double sinks, nor the very clearly men’s products lying about. She was far too sleepy for that.
She went to the bathroom, and when she went to wash her hands, she was absentmindedly rubbing the soap into her skin, between her fingers, when she felt cool metal on her left ring finger.
Weird.
Rinsing off her hands and turning off the faucet, she held up her hand in front of her face to examine it. She squeaked when she saw what was very clearly an engagement ring and wedding band set, the gems sparkling merrily at her. It looked as if it had been crafted out of golden branches, tiny flowers made of rose gold welded to the band. In the center was her birth stone, a peridot. She glanced away from the ring, her eyes landing on her reflection in the bathroom mirror.
She didn’t just squeak when she saw herself.
She screamed.
She looked older, and by a fair amount, too! She was only nineteen, she shouldn’t look like… like that! And worst of all, she was very clearly pregnant. Not towards the end of her pregnancy, it didn’t look like, but it most definitely wasn’t just that she’d put on weight.
Nope, that was a baby belly right there. No two ways about it.
Had she… had she been body swapped, maybe? There was that carpet at the Mystery Shack, maybe she’d stepped on that? Looking at her reflection, though, she recognized her eyes, the shape of her face, her nose and mouth. No, it was her, but she looked significantly older, so it couldn’t be a body swap.
So… time travel, maybe? She wracked her brain for nearly decade-old memories, trying to recall her own experiences with time travel. The time tape could have certainly taken her to the future, and she could’ve even seen her future, but to her knowledge, it wasn’t capable of putting you in the actual body of your future self.
She honestly had no idea what was going on. She needed to find Dipper, wherever he was in this weird place she was in. He’d know what to do.
She continued staring at her image in the mirror. She was wearing what was very clearly a lacy maternity nightgown, but it was awfully, uhh… well. It looked like the sort of thing someone might wear to seduce their spouse. The neck was fairly low-cut, the soft sky blue fabric hugging her breasts, and it didn’t leave much to the imagination. In fact, it left absolutely nothing to the imagination, as it was completely transparent. She could easily see her nipples and the shape of her breasts, the lines of her hips, waist, and thighs just as evident. Not that it covered much of her thighs, of course; it appeared to just barely cover her butt. On the upside, it did have some very nice bows and ruffles on it, which she adored.
Thankfully, there was a flowing dressing gown made of white lace hanging up on a hook next to the shower; she shrugged it on, double knotting it above her protruding stomach. It was sheer, too, but not quite as much as the nightie, and the lace combined with the nightie managed to cover her adequately. She didn’t know who was in the house and who wasn’t, after all.
Okay, so, Mabel was apparently married, in a very nice master bedroom, she assumed, several years older than she remembered being, and also pregnant. With a baby. She was going to have a baby. She definitely wasn’t ready for one.
Wowie zowie, she was married! But to whom? Did she know him? Why wouldn’t she know him? What was going on?
But was she really married and pregnant, though? Was it another one of Bill’s dream bubbles, or was it something else? Wherever she was, why was she there? Why was she in this body? Had she been drugged? Why couldn’t she remember how she got there? Was she in danger? What had happened? What had caused this? Where was Dipper in this freaky-deaky situation? He’d know what was going on, and he’d be able to help her, for sure.
So, dream, maybe? An ultra-vivid dream? Mabel pinched her arm and winced at the sting. Nope, not a dream. That ruled that out.
No, no, wait, Mabel thought to herself. This just screams Gravity Falls weirdness, doesn’t it? Of course! You just got sent forward in time, that’s all!
Figuring she might as well enjoy her time in the future while she was there (‘cause why not, right?), Mabel left the bathroom and explored the bedroom. Was it hers? It certainly looked like it could be hers. Sure, there wasn’t as much… Mabel-ness in the room (no strings of fairy lights or boy band posters) as there was in her dorm room, but there was a vanity table with her favorite perfumes on it, and a picture of her and Dipper smiling into the camera was sitting on top of a dresser. She didn’t look any different in the picture than she had in the mirror, so she could only assume it was fairly recent. It was in a heart picture frame that Mabel was fairly sure she would’ve made herself, which was a little odd. There was another picture stuck into the corner of her vanity mirror, too; this one with her standing in front of him, his arms around her waist and him leaning down to rest his chin on the top of her head while they both grinned. It wasn’t in a frame, but it was cut into the shape of a heart, so, also odd.
Dipper looked older, too, but she couldn’t make out anything super detailed from the pictures alone.
She was still in contact with Dipper, apparently, and close enough to him for her to have multiple pictures of them together in her (and her husband’s, she assumed) bedroom, so that was good. The heart situation was preeeeeeeetty weird, though, wasn’t it? Like. Plenty of people had pictures of them and their family members in their bedrooms, of course, and she had a few of her and Dipper together in her dorm room, and some of her with other family members and friends, too, so it wasn’t that they were there that was weird, it was more that there were hearts involved. Mabel had only put pictures of her and, like, a boyfriend in heart-shaped picture frames before. So why was one of her and Dipper in one? It was almost like they were…
No, no. That was just wishful thinking. There was no way they were a couple. No freakin’ way, man. Reminding herself that she had already proven she wasn’t in a dream, she pushed the thought from her mind.
Mabel wandered over to a closed door near the bathroom, flipping on the light switch on the wall beside it. She stepped into a decently sized walk-in closet with clothes that were, uhhh… well. They couldn’t have been anyone’s but hers.
The closet was so overwhelmingly Mabel-like that she couldn’t deny it was hers. There were rows and rows of sweaters, some with patterns, jokes and characters on them that she recognized, some of them that she didn’t but definitely appreciated. As soon as she got back home she was totes gonna knit a star-spangled kitty cat sweater exactly like the one she saw hanging up.
Glancing around, her eyes fixated on the back of the closet which held fancier and more elegant clothes. She focused particularly on a beautiful dress in one of those fancy dry cleaning hang-up bag thing-a-majigs. Stepping closer, she examined it. There was a note taped to it, written in her own loopy handwriting with a sparkly pink gel pen:
No touchy the wedding dress!
It wasn’t exactly a traditional wedding dress. It was pale pink with a bodice covered in small cloth rosettes of a slightly darker shade of pink and a long, flowing skirt. It was gorgeous.
Her eyes started to water as she teared up. Was this really her future? It seemed so… perfect. And she was so happy to be able to see what was going to happen (assuming this was all real, of course). She just couldn’t get over how too good to be true everything she saw seemed. She was almost waiting for the other shoe to drop and reveal some horrible, gaping thing that would be awful to deal with when it came to pass.
Mabel left the closet, shutting the door behind her and flipping the light switch back off.
Walking through another door, she stepped out into a hallway. There were several doors along it, which she assumed were bedrooms and perhaps a bathroom, but she decided to go downstairs instead.
There didn’t appear to be any carpeting in the house, (which, good, carpeting lowkey sucked), but there were a decent amount of rugs that felt pleasant on her bare feet. She passed a mirror hanging on the wall between two of the doors in the hallway, and was struck again by her appearance.
She just looked so freakin’ different. Like, it was definitely her, there was no doubt about that, but her face was a little slimmer, her hair styled just a little differently. She knew it was her, but seeing your future self was really flippin’ weird. Especially when future-you is very obviously pregnant and past-you’s peen experience has been exclusively of the over-the-pants variety.
There were more framed pictures hanging on the wall by the stairs, though these appeared to be more… artsy pieces rather than personal ones.
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she looked around what was very clearly a living room. There was a big fancy TV, a very nice couch, and some comfy-looking armchairs that looked wide enough for two people. Through a large window she could see a lovely front yard, more houses across the street, and what looked like a detached garage.
There was also a fireplace, on top of which sat a cute little painted wooden sign with the words “this house was built on love and shenanigans” written in cursive. There was another framed picture above the fireplace, as well, this one of her in what she now knew to be her wedding dress, standing next to Dipper in a suit that looked he waaaaaaaaaay more attractive in than anyone should be allowed to look, like seriously, somebody really ought to make a law against being that attractive, because-
Okay, no, Mabel, we’ve talked about this, she reminded herself. Normal feelings for your brother only! That means normal thoughts, too!
Successfully derailing that… unfortunate thought train, Mabel found herself wondering why a big ol’ picture of her and her brother was above the fireplace rather than one of her and her husband. That was a normal thing to hang on your wall, right? A picture of you and your husband on your wedding day? Although she did appreciate the bunny ears picture-Mabel was giving the Dipster.
There were other pictures hanging around the living room, as well; some more of her and Dipper, and quite a few of them with a group of people she could only assume were her friends (several of whom she recognized). But none of just her with a non-Dipper dude, like. By themselves.
She was beginning to wonder if there were any pictures in the house of her and her husband, and if not, why? Her life seemed pretty dope and all that jazz, it was just a little… weird that there were no pictures of her and her husband, was the thing.
Also, though, was Dipper so involved in her and her husband’s lives that he was in literally every picture she’d seen around the house? Did her husband mind? Which, if he didn’t, cool, but she felt like he’d probably mind the whole… not being in the big wedding day picture above the fireplace dealio. Who wouldn’t mind that?
At that moment, however, the sound of the door of the detached garage opening came from beyond the front door (side note, but it was a really pretty front door. It was made of dark wood and had a stained glass window near the top. Not that Mabel could see through it, being 5’3” and all, but it was cool to have nonetheless), closing again after a few seconds. A few more seconds passed and then there was the sound of a door closing and being locked from outside.
Then footsteps.
A key turning in the lock of the front door.
The door opened, and then-
“Dipper?” She blinked in surprise. She’d been expecting, well… her husband, probably, not her brother. Quickly realizing he was very likely supposed to be there for a visit that future-Mabel would’ve known about, she corrected herself as best she could. “Wazzup?”
“Hey,” he said cheerily without looking up from locking the door and hanging his keys on a key hook above the lightswitch. “Did you sleep all day again?”
“Errrr…” she glanced over at the clock hanging above the TV. 6:30-ish. “Yeah, I guess so.”
He turned around then, smiling brightly at her in a way that made her heart quiver. She was struck by how much older he looked. Which was… a lot. His jawline had become more pronounced, his hair was pretty much much the same, and he was still as slim as ever, but holy shit. He’d gotten a little taller, and he clearly took care of himself. He was dressed nicely, too; in a white button-up shirt and a pair of slacks. Had he just come from work? What did he do? What did she do, for that matter?
Future-Mabel might be over her feelings for her twin, but unfortunately for everyone involved, future-Mabel’s body was currently being occupied by nineteen-year-old Mabel, who very much did still have feelings for Dipper, so she looked away, blushing, and crossed her arms over her breasts to hide what could be seen through the fabric she was covered with.
“Sorry I’m not, um. Y’know,” she began awkwardly. “Dressed, or whatever.”
“Psh,” he waved her off with another heart-stopping grin and strode over to her. He ran a hand up her bare arm, placing the other one on her stomach and rubbing it gently. She fought the urge to squeak, because homeboy was hella close to her, he definitely should not have been that close, holy guacamole-
“You know I love it when you’re not dressed,” he said softly, and she could feel the warmth of his breath fanning over her face. She couldn’t think of anything to say, because what kind of statement was that, coming from her brother, and then he spoke again. “I’m so glad to be home, sweetheart.” Sweetheart? What? “I missed you.”
Trying her very best to gloss over what she was sure she was misunderstanding, she smiled awkwardly at him and tried to ignore the hand on her cheek and the way he was looking at her. She was misinterpreting it. She knew she was misinterpreting it. “I missed you, too-“
He cut her off by… pressing his lips against hers, stroking her cheek with his thumb, rubbing her pregnant belly all the while. He was kissing her. Dipper, her twin brother, was kissing her. Her eyes were open wide in shock, but his were closed.
Dipper’s kiss was fairly chaste, but it was long and lingering. Definitely not the sort of kiss one received platonically. Mabel was frozen, too astonished to move. She could barely think, even. Dipper pulled away then, just a little bit, and opened his eyes. Concern marred his features when he saw her expression.
“Mabes?” he questioned. “Honey, are you okay?” He pulled his hand away from her face, and when he did, she caught sight of something… unusual, to say the least.
Dipper was wearing a ring on his left ring finger.
It matched the set she was wearing.
If she thought she was frozen before, hoooooo-boy. She was extra frozen after seeing that shiz.
There was a reason there weren’t any pictures of Mabel and another man around the house. There was a reason the large wedding portrait above the fireplace was of her and Dipper.
Dipper wasn’t just involved in her and her husband’s lives. No, Dipper was her husband.
She was happy. She was thrilled. If Dipper was her husband, then he was in love with her. He was in love with her.
Dipper had gently taken both of her hands in his, and he was looking at her with a great deal of concern, and then-
And then Mabel regained her ability to move, and she remembered that incest was something of a no-no, so she wrenched her hands from his, doing her best to ignore the way his eyes widened in shock, and sprinted up the stairs as quickly as someone who was in the second trimester of pregnancy could manage.
“Mabel!” he called after her, and she heard his footsteps behind her.
She scrambled into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her with her foot to slow him down, snagged what appeared to be a hot pink Hello Kitty onesie off the foot of the bed (the robe was coming undone and she was not going to let Dipper see her entire freakin’ body, ‘cause that was just way too embarrassing, like, no way Jose), ran into the bathroom and promptly locked the door.
She immediately stripped out of the robe and nightgown, if you could even call it that (note: you really couldn’t, strictly speaking; it could not be classified as a ‘gown’ under even the loosest possible definition of the word), stepping into the onesie and only vaguely registering that Dipper had reached the bathroom door and was asking her what was going on, what was wrong, was she okay.
Pulling the onesie up over her hips, she had to sit down on the edge of the tub to finish pulling her feet through the footholes. Her stomach was getting in the way of fixing it the way she liked while sitting, however, and she had to stand up to pull it over herself and stuff her arms into the sleeves. Glancing up at the mirror, she caught sight of herself.
Her panicked expression, her wide eyes.
But mostly, her pregnant belly.
She was pregnant. And if Dipper was her husband…
Then he was almost certainly the father.
Her legs nearly gave out at the realization, and she had to sit back down, the onesie only half way zipped, her stomach poking out still.
She was pregnant. There was a baby growing inside her.
She’d allowed her brother to get her pregnant. Her brother. All because she’d been stupid enough to fall in love with him.
It was… it was sick, is what it was. Her child would be sick. Her child would never be able to have a normal life. There was an extremely slim chance it would be able to, of course, but all the odds were stacked against it.
She was hyperventilating, and she couldn’t seem to stop. How could this have happened? Staring at her the rings on her left hand for a moment, she decided to do the right thing. The only thing, really. She took them off and slid them into the pocket of the onesie.
Dipper was speaking to her through the door, but she barely heard him. “Mabel, sweetheart, please open the door, you’re really starting to scare me-“
She was so selfish. How could she have been so selfish? Forcing a child to be alive for her own benefit, damn the consequences for the child themselves, just because of who she’d fallen in love with. It was horrible. It was cruel.
“This never should have happened,” she said softly, and Dipper immediately stopped his pleading for her to open the door.
“What?”
“This never should have happened,” she repeated, louder this time. “I don’t…” she paused, took a breath. “I don’t know why I married you, let alone decided to have a baby with you, or how, but it never should’ve happened.” He sputtered, but she kept going. “This is… this is wrong, Dip, it’s so wrong, I can’t-“
“How can you say that?” Was he crying? He sounded like he might be crying. “You said, you said,” he gasped a little, inhaling sharply as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. “You said we were meant to be. You told me that kissing me that first time was the best decision you’d ever made, that being with me was the best thing to ever happen to you, that ever could’ve happened to you.
“It never should’ve happened, I shouldn’t have let you… I shouldn’t have…” I shouldn’t have let you get me pregnant. “I never should’ve let you get me pregnant, what was I thinking-“
“Mabel,” he gasped out. “How- how could you even think that about our baby?” Oh shit. If he wasn’t crying before, he was most definitely crying by that point. “You know damn well there’s nothing wrong with her!”
Her? It was a girl? Did… did she have a name? No. Mabel couldn’t think about that. Couldn’t let herself think about that.
“You know everything went perfectly, that every sonogram and doctor’s assessment has said she’s perfectly healthy. You were there for them,” Dipper was insisting. “You said you loved me,” he said, sounding more broken than she’d ever heard him.
Wait wha? Say what now?
Mabel shook the thoughts from her head. “I can’t love you, not like that,” she told him firmly. “It’s wrong and you know it.” Then she went back to talking to herself, trying to process this insane future she’d been thrown into. “How could this even happen? One minute I’m going to sleep in my dorm and the next I’m waking up married to my brother and pregnant with his baby, what in the actual fuckity fuck-“
“Wait,” Dipper cut in with a sniffle. “You went to sleep in your dorm? As in your college dorm? Mabel, you graduated college seven years ago. We both did.”
“Weeeellll,” she began. “Maybe kinda, but also not really, ‘cause I just finished taking my midterms, and-“
“What’s the last year you remember it being?” he cut in. “How old are you?”
“Uhhh. 2018,” she said after a moment. “I’m nineteen.”
It was several beats before Dipper responded. “Mabes, we’re twenty-nine and it’s 2028.”
A thought occurred to her just then. What if she wasn’t just in the future, but a different dimension? What if in this dimension, they weren’t even related? That would certainly explain a lot, wouldn’t it?
Pushing herself off the edge of the tub, Mabel walked over to the bathroom door, the tile cold against her bare feet, zipping up the onesie the rest of the way as she went. Unlocking the door, she opened it with what she considered to be a perfectly reasonable amount of apprehension, considering the circumstances.
Dipper’s eyes were wide and red-rimmed, and he wiped them swiftly with his sleeve. He looked relieved and terrified at the same time.
Until he saw her ring finger, that is. When his gaze fell on the bare skin, he looked away from her, and Mabel was mildly worried he’d start crying again.
She didn’t do well with Dipper crying.
“Are you my brother?”
He blinked at her. “Wha- what?”
“Are you my brother?” she repeated.
His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You’re not my Mabel,” he deduced, then reached out to grip her arm a little too firmly. “Who are you? What are you? What have you done with my wife?”
“I- I’m Mabel!” she insisted shakily, trying to yank her hand away but failing because apparently, Dipper had gotten stronger than she was used to him being.
“Are you sure? Tell me something only Mabel would know, then,” he demanded. She opened and closed her mouth like a fish, unsure of what to say. “Tell me what we promised each other the last bus ride back from Gravity Falls before college.”
That had only been a few months ago for Mabel, so it was easy for her to remember. “I’ll never leave you, I’ll never betray you, I’ll always be by your side. I’ll always be there to help you up when you’re down, and hold you when you’re sad.” She paused to take a breath.
He stared at her, his gaze intense and piercing and very un-brotherly, before finishing for her, his voice soft. “I’ll never let go of your hand.” At that, he released her arm, sliding his hand down to close his fingers around hers. “You don’t remember the past ten years?”
“Errr… no,” she told him, looking away. He’d never looked at her like that. What the heck was she supposed to do with that kinda look? “I went to sleep in my dorm, just like I said, and then I woke up here.”
He squeezed her hand. “You might have hit your head and gotten amnesia or something. We should get you to a doctor as soon as we can.”
”Okay.” Mabel nodded hesitantly, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. She was pretty sure he was still looking at her with that intense look in his eyes. She looked away again.
“I’ll make an appointment in a bit. I need to make sure you don’t have a concussion first.” He led her towards an armchair in the corner of their (no, no, not theirs, it couldn’t be theirs) bedroom, motioning for her to sit down. She did, and he kneeled in front of her. “Watch my finger, okay?” She nodded hesitantly and followed his finger with her eyes as he slowly moved it back and forth in front of her.
Once he was satisfied, he stood up again. Holy macaroni, but he was… he was so tall from that angle. He’d only grown a few inches from when he was nineteen, but even then he’d had a good five or six on her.
Dipper was looking down at her, affection in his eyes, and he spoke softly. “I’m going to touch your head to make sure there aren’t any bumps.” She nodded again, and long, slender, gentle fingers found their way into her hair, carefully and methodically moving over her scalp. “Lean forward for me,” he murmured. She did so, trying very hard to keep her face from reddening as he felt along the back of her head.
Thing was, Mabel was still trying her hardest to suppress her feelings for the Dipster. And this version of him touched her so casually; way more so than the Dipper she was used to. She didn’t know what to do with it, how to react to it.
Mabel would deny it up, down, and sideways, but the reality of the situation was that she was head over heels for her twin, and therefore, she was also massively attracted to him. And future-Dipper was taller with a sharper jawline and he even seemed somewhat surer of himself, and at that precise moment, the primary thing directly in her line of vision was his crotch, and she reeeeeeeeeally didn’t know how to handle that. She was trying very hard not to look at it, but it was, like, right there, so not looking at it was easier said than done.
After several minutes of him silently feeling along her scalp, his hands left her hair, and he knelt in front of her again. “It doesn’t feel like you have a concussion, but we should definitely still take you to a doctor.”
She nodded, eyes wide and face red. Then, a thought occurred to her. “Dipper?”
“Hm?”
“How would our baby be healthy?” Mabel wondered. “Y’know… incest and all that?”
“Well we did gene editing, and that fixed the issue before it started,” he explained.
“What’s gene editing?”
He blinked at her. “It’s… it’s genetic engineering, pretty much.” When there was no substantial understanding in her eyes, he continued. “In the case of…” He clenched his eyes shut and inhaled sharply as if he were in pain. “In the case of our baby,” he continued, “doctors went in and removed any harmful genes she could inherit from your eggs and my sperm-“ Mabel fought back a squeak at the mention of, well, that, but he kept speaking as if it were totally normal for her to listen to her twin bro talk about his… yeah. “All they did was scan us, basically, and the scan removed anything from our reproductive systems that could be inherited by a child.”
Her mouth hung open in astonishment. “So… so this,” she put a hand on her protruding stomach, “this was planned?” He nodded. “But… but why?”
He smiled, but it seemed a little sad. “We wanted to. I… I still want to.” She was speechless at that, so he continued. “I don’t know the first thing about being a parent, aside from all the books I’ve been reading, which,” he laughed nervously, “is a fair amount, for sure, but I want it anyway. With you.”
Mabel didn’t know what to say. His eyes were awash with emotion, and she wasn’t sure how she should feel. He wanted a baby. He wanted a baby with her. To the point where he’d gone so far as to get himself scanned by science-fiction-level technology that removed whatever you told it to from your genes.
And apparently, she had, too.
“You’re sure there’s nothing wrong with…?” She pointed at her stomach again.
Dipper shook his head, smiling again. “She’s perfectly healthy. I can show you the doctors’ reports if you like. Or the sonograms. You…” he trailed off, chuckling. “You wanted to get so many sonograms.” He stood again. “Just relax here for a bit, alright? I’m going to see about making you an appointment.” Leaning down, he pressed a kiss into her hair, then pulled away from her with a gentle smile. “I’ll be right back, and then you can ask me whatever questions you want.”
He walked to the door, but Mabel spoke before he could turn the doorknob. “Dipper?”
“Yeah?” He looked over his shoulder at her. His expression was so… so sad, and it hurt her heart so much to see him look so unhappy, but she couldn’t be with him the way he clearly wanted to be with her.
The way she wanted to be with him, too.
“Are you…” She took a breath. It was a toughie of a question to ask, after all. “Are you actually in love with me?”
He smiled that same sad smile. “I’ve been in love with you for a long, long time. Since high school, actually. You… you’re everything to me.” He didn’t say anything for a moment, still looking over his shoulder at her, his eyes intense and filled with such longing she didn’t know what to think, let alone say. “But you already knew that.” He said it softly, almost like the words were breaths themselves. After a moment of him staring at her, his expression unchanged, he smiled again, and said, “I’ll be right back.”
Mabel nodded wordlessly, and allowed herself to stew.
———————————————————————
“I made an appointment for tomorrow,” he told her as he stepped back into the room. “Have you eaten anything yet?”
Mabel shook her head. “I got preoccupied by the whole…” she waved her hands, gesturing to their surroundings.
He nodded his understanding. “I’m sure it freaked you out, huh? Well, lemme go make you something to eat.” Mabel started to stand, and he held a hand up. “No, you get some rest. Just relax. Let me take care of it, okay?”
She sat back down to stew some more. When he finally called her into the kitchen, there was a plate of salmon and broccoli sitting on the table (as well as a burger for him, the bastard). “What is that?”
“It’s high in protein and nutrition.” After a moment, he grinned. “Plus you’ve been really into salmon since you got pregnant.”
It did smell pretty good.
They ate dinner together, and he told her about their life. She learned that he did some science-thing for work that she didn’t really understand, whereas she had a shop on Etsy. They’d just had their fifth wedding anniversary. Their parents knew about them, and had begrudgingly accepted it after years of insisting it was just a phase. Dipper pointed out that it was hard for someone to argue they weren’t serious about each other once they got married, especially when that someone had attended the wedding (at which Dipper cried first, much to Mabel’s amusement).
Mabel was five months pregnant with a daughter they were planning on naming Ophelia (because, Dipper told her, they’d both been studying Hamlet when they got together, and Mabel had wanted to name their baby after some sort of space-thing as an affectionate and long-term teasing method). None of their neighbors were aware of the fact that they were related; only their very close friends knew.
They ended up sitting at the table for an extra forty-five minutes after they’d finished eating when Dipper finally realized how long it’d been.
“Are you done eating? We can hang out in the living room if you want.”
“Duh-doi,” Mabel said with an eye roll.
Aaaaand there was that very un-brotherly expression again.
He took their dishes and put them in the sink, then came back over to her to help her stand. Pregnancy, Mabel was finding, didn’t mix well with movement.
They made their way to the couch, and he made sure she was settled in to his satisfaction before sitting down himself.
Just then, a thought occurred to Mabel.
“Who's really the father?” Mabel demanded abruptly.
He looked at her in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“No matter what doctors could’ve done, I never would’ve…” she blushed, “y’know, with you, and I definitely for-flippin’-sure never would’ve let you get me pregnant, especially on purpose, so obviously you’re not the father. Maybe we’re married and I was planning on raising it with you. Okay, fine, maybe, but the biological father’s gotta be out there somewhere, right? So who is it?”
He was staring at her incredulously. “Uh. Mabel, I’m the father.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re the dad, okay, whatevs,” she rolled her eyes, “but I mean who got me pregnant, not who I weirdly decided to raise it with.”
His brow was furrowed, as if he couldn’t quite believe her. “I did.”
“I find that very hard to believe,” she informed him, crossing her arms over her stomach. “I wouldn’t do that, no sir-ee, no how.”
He smirked a little.
She didn’t like that smirk. She didn’t trust that smirk. That smirk led to baaaaaaad things. Big no-nos.
“Wanna bet?”
“Whaddya mean?” She was trying not to let her nervousness out. Why was he smirking at her like that?
“I can prove it to you.”
“You can prove to me that you’re the dad?” she asked disbelievingly.
He nodded, standing up and walking over to the TV stand. On it, there was a small brown box, which Dipper proceeded to open. He pulled out a flash drive, and Mabel watched in curiosity, her eyebrows raised.
He plugged it in by the TV somewhere she couldn’t see past his body before returning to the couch to sit back down beside her. Grabbing the remote, he turned on the TV, made some selection that was too fast for her to catch, and then the bedroom (their bedroom, apparently) she’d woken up in was on the screen, it looked like, though she couldn’t see much of it at that exact moment.
In the video, Dipper was kneeling in front of the camera, staring into the lens, clearly checking something before standing and turning around to face the bed and holy hell he was naked and so was she and-
She watched as the Dipper in the video strode over to where she lay naked on the bed. She was… she was touching herself, biting her lip and staring at him all the while.
Mabel was too horrified, too astonished, to speak. Dipper was naked. And very… excited, too, from the looks of things. She covered her eyes with her fingers.
“You sure you wanna film this?” Dipper’s voice was a little difficult to hear, but she could make out what he was saying. The Dipper next to her turned up the volume.
“I wanna be able to watch it later,” she told him breathily.
She heard the creaking of a bed, and peeked through her fingers to hesitantly watch as he climbed on top of her and they kissed with more passion than Mabel had ever seen anyone kiss in her entire life. Their hands were roaming over each other’s bodies, and she watched as video-Dipper gripped various parts of her body; he grasped her hips and her breasts and her thighs, moving so quickly it seemed as if he couldn’t decide where to touch. Gripping her tightly, too, by the looks of things.
He’d moved his lips to her neck, and he appeared to be sucking on it. Hard. “Yessssss,” hissed out video-Mabel. “Bruise me, Dip Dop. I’m all yours.”
“You’re goddamn right you are,” he growled against her neck, grinding his pelvis into hers.
“I need it,” she gasped out, lifting her hips to meet him. “I need you.”
He pulled back a bit, and Mabel could make out his… uhhhh. Yup. That was Dipper’s dipper right there. She couldn’t see details, not from that angle, but video-Mabel was reaching down and stroking it, very clearly trying to guide him between her parted thighs.
He moved her hand away, though, and wrapped his own hand around his… yeah. He started to rub himself against video-Mabel, who was whimpering. “You want me?”
“Need,” she corrected fiercely. “I need you.”
He continued to run himself against her teasingly. “If you want my cock, Mabes,” he said, “you have to ask for it.”
Video-Mabel made a sound that was somewhere between a desperate, pleasured moan and a frustrated groan. She did as she was told, however. “Please, Dip,” she begged. “I need your cock inside me. I need your cum inside me. I need you to fuck a baby into me. Please.”
Her reward was immediate; he thrust into her abruptly. “Ffffffuuuuuck, Mabel,” he groaned, leaning against her neck. “So tight for me, so wet. You feel so good,” he gasped out as he started to thrust. “You feel so fucking good.”
Mabel watched, horrified, as the on-screen versions of her and her twin kissed frantically; her wrapping her legs around his waist and him kissing her neck and pinching her nipple between his fingers.
“Don’t stop, bro bro,” video-Mabel gasped out, clutching at video-Dipper’s hair as he snapped his hips against hers. “Harder, give it to me harder!”
He complied, gripping her hips, and Mabel could tell his fingers were digging into her skin enough to bruise her.
Did he enjoy bruising her? He seemed to. But then, as far as she could tell, she seemed to enjoy it just as much.
Mabel wasn’t sure how much time passed; watching your twin-slash-husband fuck your brains out on camera was rather distracting. Finally, though, video-Mabel was begging video-Dipper to cum inside her, to fill her, to get her pregnant. “Gimme your baby, Dipper,” she was moaning, her head lolled back against the pillow as her brother slammed into her repeatedly. “I need it, please, I need it so bad, fuck-“
And then video-Mabel was screaming Dipper's name, because he’d reached between them to rub her clit, and Mabel watched her own toes curl against the sheets, her hands raking down her brother’s back as he kissed her, groaning against her lips. His hips stuttered, and she was clutching at his hair when he collapsed against her, pressing kisses into the skin between her breasts. He murmured something Mabel couldn’t quite make out.
“Sorry you can’t hear it,” real-Dipper cut in, “but I’m telling you I love you.” Mabel lowered her shaking hands from her face, and turned to look at him with wide, astonished eyes.
He was blushing, looking awfully nervous, when he paused it and said, “a- and I do. Love you, that is.” She stared at him, unblinking. He really was the father. And she’d… she’d wanted him to be. She’d wanted him to get her pregnant. Begged him to, even. “I really, really do,” he told her, his voice soft. “More than anything in the world.”
Mabel didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t the first time he’d told her he loved her like that since she’d woken up in the future, but it might have been the first time she believed him when he said it.
She took a deep breath. It took several more before she found her voice. “Did… did I say it back?”
He smiled, and it was a little sad. Again. “You always do.”
Mabel really didn’t know what to say to that. She excused herself to the bathroom and sat on the closed toilet. Pulling the rings from her pocket, she turned them over in her hands.
He’d given them to her. He’d wanted to be with her so badly, so permanently, that he’d wanted to marry her. In the video, he had been so passionate, so loving. And she… she seemed like she couldn’t get enough of him.
For whatever reason, they’d managed to get married safely. They’d found a way to have a baby without the typical repercussions of incest. Their marriage didn’t appear fake at all. From what she’d seen, they had strong, legitimate feelings for each other. They were genuinely in love.
And she… she wanted that. She wanted it with Dipper specifically.
Desperately so.
Mabel stared at the rings again for a moment.
If there wasn’t any real risk and they were really in love, was it wrong? They were happy, so how could it be wrong? Maybe it was, and she knew she shouldn’t feel the way she did towards him, but…
She put the rings back on, went to the bathroom, washed her hands, and left to go sit back down on the couch with Dipper.
Her incredibly attractive brother-slash-husband.
It only took him a few minutes to notice.
“You’re wearing your rings again,” he pointed out. His voice was nervous, hopeful. She still couldn’t quite believe he wanted her that way. Every time she questioned it, though, she pictured him naked, kissing her desperately, moaning her name as he thrust inside her.
She still couldn’t quite believe she wanted him that way.
“Yup,” she said, popping the ‘P’ and halfway hoping he wouldn’t pry further.
He did, though.
“Why?” He sounded breathless, and she knew from his tone that he had a desperate expression on his face. She didn’t need to look at him to know. She knew everything about him. And she knew that he wanted more than anything to believe she yearned for him just as much as he did her.
“I dunno,” she said with a shrug, trying her very hardest to sound nonchalant. They were already married. She’d seen them have sex. It had been rough. Possessive. Desperate, just like the expression she knew he wore just then. Why was she so nervous, then? “Guess I figured we’re already married. I’m pregnant. You’re the father. Which is still all kinds of weird, by the way. Not much point in me leaving you, is there?”
“B-but,” he stuttered, “do you… do you actually want to be with me?” He took a breath. She knew that tone, knew the expression that accompanied it. It was a pained one. He was afraid. “Do you love me the way I love you?”
Yes, her mind whispered. Of course I do. How I not?
She didn’t say that, though. “I shouldn’t.” Her voice was shaky, hesitant. He put his hand on hers, his thumb caressing the rings she knew he had given her.
“But do you?”
She’d put the rings back on knowing full well this would likely happen. She’d known he’d notice, known he’d ask her. She was nervous, her feelings for him having just floated to the surface of her mind, so she was skirting around things more than she usually did. It wasn’t like her. She wanted this. She was in love with him, and she wasn’t even sure how long she’d been in love with him for, but she was sure of how she felt.
“I… I’m scared, Dip,” she whispered, glancing down at his hand atop hers, the way he touched her rings, almost affectionately.
He leaned closer to her, putting his other hand on her cheek and gently turning her head so she’d look at him. “Don’t be.” He was smiling. He’d realized she loved him, too. She could tell. “I’d never hurt you,” he promised. “I’ll always take care of you. I’d do anything for you.”
“I know.” Her voice was still soft, still nervous and shaking, despite her best efforts.
“Then what are you afraid of, Mabes?”
It took several seconds for her to find the courage to speak, to be honest with him. “Loving you,” she finally confessed. “I’m afraid of loving you.”
He was gazing into her eyes intently, and she felt like her heart was going to burst -from nervousness, from elation, from love, she didn’t know, couldn’t tell-, and then he said, “that’s not something you should ever be scared of. I’m-“ he laughed, glancing away from her. “I’m crazy about you. I always have been.”
She felt as if she might float away at his words. She took a deep breath and shut her eyes, as if she could shut him out, too, just for a moment so she could force what she needed to say from her lips. “I’m in love with you, too.”
“Mabel,” he murmured, his hand squeezing hers against the cushions of the couch. Her breath was caught in her throat, as if there was something keeping the air inside her windpipe. “Can I…” He trailed off for a moment, but he was staring at her lips, and she knew what he was going to ask. “Can I kiss you?”
She almost forgot to nod, she was so dazed, so nervous. But all that disappeared when he pressed his lips to hers. It was muscle memory. It had to have been, because she wrapped her arms around his neck almost instantly, needing to feel him close to her.
Holy mother of Mothman, did he know what he was doing. His lips had been hesitant at first, barely grazing hers at all, but after she’d wrapped her arms around him, it changed. He caught her bottom lip between his teeth, making her gasp before he soothed her reddened lip with a swipe of his tongue.
Wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer, Dipper buried his hand in her hair. Mabel had never been kissed that way before, with such desperation. He trailed kisses down her neck, sucking a bruise into the sensitive flesh.
“I thought I’d never get to do this again,” he murmured against her skin. “I was so scared, Mabel. I love you so much. I can’t…” he took a deep, shuddering breath. “I can’t lose you.”
“I love you, too, Dip.” Almost as soon as the words had left her lips, he began to kiss her again, shifting closer to her.
Suddenly, his lips froze against hers, and he pulled away. “Wait, shit, Mabel, you-“ he looked concerned.
“What?”
“You’ve never done this before, right? In, uh. In your time, I mean. Or whatever.” From his expression, he was rather uncomfortable.
“I’ve made out before, Dipper,” she told him patiently. Well, not actually patiently. She’d just accepted she was in love with the guy and wanted him, like, yesterday. Well, ten years ago. Whatever. Sue her.
“No, I mean, well. Like. Sex.”
Mabel’s eyes widened slightly. He wanted to…? “So, you wanna…? With me?”
He blinked at her. “Well, yeah. You’re my wife, and I love you. It’s not like I haven’t done this with you before, y’know.”
Images of him thrusting inside her and moaning her name as she clutched at him flashed through her mind again.
“Right. That.”
“Yeah,” he agreed with a small smile. “That.” After a moment of looking at her, he spoke again. “Mabes, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“But you want to?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I do. I love being with you that way.” He blushed, looking away briefly. “It’s always perfect with you. And the way you feel is just… well. It’s always perfect with you.” After a moment of making his Thinking Face™, he spoke again. Or rather, he rambled. “Wait wait shit what if I hurt you or scare you or I’m too intense ‘cause sometimes I get really ummmmm into it and even a little bit rough and-“
“Dip!” Dipper blinked, as if he’d forgotten that she, too, was capable of speech. “I trust you. You won’t hurt me. You’d never hurt me.” Just then, a thought occurred to her. “Besides, this body is prolly used to it anyway, right?”
He thought for a moment. “Yeah, I guess it would be, huh? So, wait, does this mean… I mean, do you, y’know.” Fuck, he was such an adorable floundering, rambling dork. “Do you want me? It’s- it’s okay if you don’t,” he stuttered out. “I get that you’re in love with me, too, and all that, and that’s great, but I dunno, maybe nineteen-year-old you hasn’t developed a real attraction to me yet, which is totally fine, I get it, cause, well, I might as well just come out and say it, I guess-“ He was rambling. He was very much rambling. It was totes adorbs, though. “It took me the longest time to realize how I felt about you and to come to terms with it,” he went on, “and then it took me even longer to fully accept how badly I wanted to fuck you senseless, so I do understand if-“
“Whoa there, friend,” Mabel managed to force out, her face flaming. “I get the gist, I think. You… you want me.”
Is there any archive with doublepines comics? I’ve looked for a while and have seen a lot but I am always looking for more. Btw I really appreciate you sharing all the resources and old fics and etc
There is a comprehensive Pinecest archive of art and stories that is being assembled. This effort has been undertaken largely by @cornytyrannosaurus, but I believe it is still kind of under construction. You should send him a DM, he'll hook you up to whatever he has. Good luck!
I just wanted to say that I still think you're unironically one of the best fiction authors whose work I've ever read. Thanks for all that you do, and you're very much appreciated by the few of us left in this years old community about incestuous writing for a show that's been over for years.
What a nice, out-of-the-blue message! Thank you, I really appreciate that you like reading my stuff.
Ugh, I'm so frustrated with myself for not writing more. I've been going through a general malaise after being distracted by (and not completing) a super-ambitious original novel. The last week or so has seen me back at the keyboard with a separate project, though, so the creative juices aren't completely dead. And it helps to know that there's folks out there who truly seem to look forward to more. Hopefully (fingers crossed) I'll be back at it soon-ish.
Pinecest shall live on! I'm glad you're here in the fandom with me.
If you're referring to the continuation of the story that I started here (over three years ago? yikes!), unfortunately I have no progress to report. My outline document for that story sits unchanged, waiting for me to get back to it.
Even though I now once again profess my intent to continue writing these stories, I can also see how little such words can mean at this point. First I was distracted by my work on a long original novel, and now even that is on hold. Being open about this drought I'm going through, I can honestly say that I want to be writing again, but circumstances (both in and out of my control) are such that it's just not working for me, at least not right now. I wish I had a better answer for you.
"Old Guard" anon again. Of those people you are in touch with, or maybe know someone who knows or can find out, how are those people doing? And can you pass along a message that at least one person misses them?
Over the years, I've tried contacting several of the fans and creators that I used to chat with, and to almost all of them I've had no response. In most cases, I'm assuming they never even saw my message. If they've stopped participating and have moved on, that's entirely their prerogative and I respect that.
So the best I can do is hope they see this post, that an anon wants you to know that they miss you, that there's at least one. I'll add myself to that, so there's at least two that miss you. I suspect that the actual number is quite a lot more.
Are you still in touch with any of the "old guard?" Do you know how they're all doing? I miss seeing you all sharing one another's pics and fics.
There aren't many folks still around since the heyday, it's true. There are precious few that I am still in contact with, and fewer still are actively creating anything (myself included). Trust me, I miss those days, as well.
A newer, smaller batch of fans are still keeping the Pinecest flame alive, which is good to see. And I continue to pledge my word that I will get back to producing more stories, eventually. The fandom is smaller, but still alive.
Mabel Pines was thinking about Dipper Pines again. Dipper was a bold reader with fluffy hands and greasy elbows.
Mabel walked over to the window and reflected on her Spooky surroundings. She had always loved Mysterious Gravity Falls with its forgotten, fast Forrest. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel sparkly.
Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the a bold figure of Dipper Pines.
Mabel gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was a ruthless, smart, Pitt Cola drinker with grubby hands and ugly elbows. Her friends saw her as a sore, sparkling Silly. Once, she had even rescued a brief Macguffic from a burning building.
But not even a ruthless person who had once rescued a brief Macguffic from a burning building, was prepared for what Dipper had in store today.
The drizzle rained like talking aardvarks, making Mabel sad. Mabel grabbed a silver sandwich that had been strewn nearby; she massaged it with her fingers.
As Mabel stepped outside and Dipper came closer, she could see the raw smile on his face.
Dipper gazed with the affection of 8230 hilarious oily ostriches. He said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want a date."
Mabel looked back, even more sad and still fingering the silver sandwich. "Dipper, I know you're my sister, but I love you," she replied.
They looked at each other with irritable feelings, like two pretty, precious pigeons dancing at a very brave Summerween, which had pop music playing in the background and two sympathetic uncles running to the beat.
Mabel regarded Dipper's fluffy hands and greasy elbows. "I feel the same way!" revealed Mabel with a delighted grin.
Dipper looked afraid, his emotions blushing like a scary, selfish sausage.
Then Dipper came inside for a nice drink of Pitt Cola.
Looks Like Someone Picked a Whole Bushel Of Oopsie Daisies
Chapter Eleven: Making the Most of a Weekend
I knowwwww I’m the worst author ever I’m sorry blah blah blah. But! This chapter is filthy so at least it’s a fun one, right? Also, the Airbnb they’re staying at can be viewed here. Now, onto the chapter!
You’ve been gone so long, I forgot what you feel like, but I’m not gonna think about that right now. I’m gonna keep getting underneath you, I’m gonna keep getting underneath you, and all our friends want us to fall in love.- Panic! at the Disco, The Good, the Bad, and the Dirty
Being separated from one’s soulmate was both emotionally and physically exhausting. It was also really, really depressing. It was just like, why bother? Why bother getting out of bed? Why bother going to school? What was the point? Dipper wouldn’t be there, and she wouldn’t get to see him again for awhile.
Whelp. At least her parents never monitored anything but her texts. She didn’t text Dipper, so, to their knowledge, she wasn’t in contact with him.
Not that they ever got a look at her phone, anyway. She was never home enough for them to see. The longest she’d spent at home at a time was one night. She never ate with her parents, and she still hadn’t spoken to them. She wasn’t planning on it, either. She didn’t have anything to say to them, and she certainly wasn’t interested in what they had to say.
Rolling over in Kristin’s bed (Kristin’s was the previous evening’s sleepover house of choice), Mabel grabbed her phone off the nightstand.
Dipper had messaged her. He usually did when he woke up.
Are you free this weekend?
It was a three day weekend starting the day after Valentine’s Day, which meant Mabel was feeling the separation hard, and therefore had a hot date with Ben & Jerry (both of whom were currently waiting eagerly for her in Kristin’s freezer). Okay, so it was more of a cold date, but, y’know. Semantics, right? Therapy was great, but eating several pints of Chocolate Therapy was cheaper and more fun.
So… technically she was free. But why was Dipper asking?
Yeah, why?
Okay, cool. Come to this address once you’re out of school. Go around back when you get there. Okay?
He typed out an address she didn’t recognize. It wasn’t too far from Kristin’s, but why would Dipper want her to go there? Regardless, she texted back a confused okay and left it at that. Sitting up in bed, she scratched her scalp lightly and looked over at Kristin, who was sleeping with her mouth wide open.
She poked her friend’s cheek. “Hey.”
Kristin stirred but didn’t wake. Naturally, Mabel poked her again, slightly harder. “Hey!” She raised her voice a bit that time.
“What?” Kristin grumbled blearily, blinking her eyes open. Her black hair was matted, and what had once been expertly applied eyeliner and mascara was giving her the usual racoon eyes. Not that Kristin minded, of course. Yesterday’s eyeliner can be made into today’s smokey eye, after all.
“Can you drive me somewhere after school?”
Kristin propped herself up on her arms and blinked up at Mabel. “Depends on where it is, I guess. Why, where you going?”
“I dunno, some-“ Mabel’s phone chimed, signaling another message from Dipper.
Oh, and bring enough stuff to last you through Sunday.
Mabel blinked and lifted her phone up to show Kristin the message. Kristin’s eyes narrowed against the brightness of the phone screen, then widened. She sat up abruptly, then snatched the phone from Mabel’s hand. She scrolled up a bit, reading their most recent messages, and handed Mabel’s phone back to her after a moment, a knowing smirk on her face.
“He’s taking you on a sex retreat,” Kristin said matter-of-factly.
“A- a what now?”
“A sex retreat,” her friend repeated. “Y’know, it’s a three day weekend right after Valentine’s Day so he’s whisking you away somewhere to fuck your brains out.”
“That is…” Mabel was going to say it was ridiculous, but then she thought about it for a moment. Dipper had a car. Neither of their Grunkles would take issue with him coming down to visit her; it was their parents that had an issue with them being soulmates. “A very real possibility, actually,” she finished.
“Oh, it’s totally what he’s doing. So, to answer your question,” Kristin got out of bed and walked towards her bathroom. “Yes, I will absolutely drive you to go on a sex retreat with your soulbro, no matter how far away it is.”
Checking Google Maps, Mabel said, “it’s fifteen minutes from school.”
Kristin grinned. “Badass! Pack up your shit, homegirl. I ain’t driving you back here before you go.” She glanced down at Mabel’s legs. “And maybe shave again before we head out. Don’t want any stubble the first time you see him after this long, right?”
Mabel blushed. “Right, guess not.”
Kristin patted her cheek with another smile. “Cheer up, buttercup. Today’s the day your va-jay-jay is back in business.”
Mabel grinned back. “Fingers crossed!”
“Exactly, now hit the showers!”
———————————————————————
When Mabel stepped out of Kristin’s car onto the sidewalk, she didn’t know what to make of the yellow Victorian house. She sent Dipper a quick here as she went around back, as he’d had told her to that morning, only to find a small rock garden in the backyard of the house, with a… a vardo? It sure looked like a vardo. The fanciest one she’d ever seen in her life. It was red and purple with a small porch, and it appeared to be quite long, too. There was a set of slender red double doors with round stained glass windows on either side, and the whole thing looked intricately carved and painted.
After a moment, the doors opened, and out stepped Dipper. He beamed at the sight of her, and she nearly dropped the duffel bag she had hoisted over her shoulder.
Scratch that, she actually did drop it, squealing and running over to him to jump into his arms. It was a bit difficult because the wagon-house-thingy was on top of a wooden platform that she had to almost trip over before reaching him, but in the span of a few seconds, she had her arms wrapped around him again and she buried her face in his neck, breathing in his scent.
Mabel stood there for several seconds, trying to melt into his skin. A warmth had flooded her veins at the sight of him. She’d forgotten what it felt like to have him close, what he smelled like. She’d just decided she needed an oxygen tank full of Dipper-smell when he spoke, his lips against her scalp.
“I missed you.”
Mabel pulled back enough to look at him. She hadn’t stopped smiling since she’d seen him, and it was kind of hurting her face, but she didn’t care. He was looking at her adoringly, and she giggled. She was just so freakin’ happy to see him. Mabel couldn’t remember the last time she’d been that happy.
No, wait, yes she could. The last time she’d been that happy was right before her parents stormed into the hotel room like ruining everything was a contest with a billion dollar prize.
Well, whatever. They could suck it. Mabel was too busy to care about her parents and whatever lame-ass contests they’d entered.
“I missed you, too,” she finally told him. “But what’re you doing here?” She glanced around a bit. “Actually, what am I doing here?”
He leaned down to kiss her forehead. “It’s an Airbnb,” he said, taking her hand and pulling away from her. “After a fair amount of begging and no small amount of guilt tripping, Grunkle Stan agreed to pay for a three day weekend stay for us.”
He pushed open the intricate red doors and stepped inside, pulling her along after him. She followed after him, her shoes sinking into a plush rug, and her mouth dropped open.
Directly inside the doorway, there was what appeared to be a kitchen, albeit a small one; the cabinets were white with light brown countertops, a hammered copper kitchen sink, two actual stained glass windows (like, it looked like there were actual separate panes of glass for each change in color and shape), and several additional copper kitchen stuff throughout the tiny kitchen. It was more of a hallway than anything else.
Mabel rushed past Dipper excitedly, eager to see what lay beyond the kitchen-slash-hallway, and squealed again. “Eeeeeeee this place is crazy!”
“I knew you’d like it,” he laughed. “I’m gonna go grab your bag, be right back.”
“Kay!” she called over her shoulder, eager to get acquainted with her new favorite place ever.
Okay, so maybe it was her new favorite place ever primarily due to Dipper’s presence, but it was also really flippin’ cool. Directly across the narrow hallway, there was a door that, when opened, led to a very cramped bathroom. Cramped it may be, but it was also hella fancy. The walls were made of tiles fashioned from dark reflective glass, there was a tiny white sink sticking out directly below a window with a mirror fastened to the wood of the window frame, with a stained glass window directly beside the regular one. There was a toilet that had another stained glass window above it, as well as a regular window directly beside it, this one with a gold-colored curtain hanging over it. The shower had a black curtain in front of it but, when pulled aside, it revealed another stained glass window (yes, three for one tiny bathroom). The shower head was a waterfall-type situation, but it also had one of those handheld ones, which she knew from personal experience would be easier to rinse out her hair with.
“You all good in here, Mabes?” Dipper called, and she heard the thunk of her bag being dropped.
Fingers crossed her toiletries hadn’t made a mess all over her clothes.
She stuck her head out of the bathroom and looked over at him as he shut the doors behind him. “Uh, dude, I’ve only seen the kitchen and the bathroom and I’m pretty sure this whole thing is amazeballs.”
He grinned and stepped over to her. “I’m glad you like it, but was it really necessary for you to pack bricks?” He rubbed the shoulder he’d hoisted her bag over.
“Don’t be such a baby, Dippin Dots,” she said with an exaggerated eye roll and sashayed away to inspect the rest of the wagon-thingy.
Just beyond the countertops of the kitchen, there was a tall set of shelves that went to the ceiling, containing various kitchen-y items, including a microwave (which, good, because Mabel was seventeen and leftovers were her BFFs), and directly across from the shelves there was a fridge, which was also good, because as a living creature, Mabel required sustenance in order to survive.
The hallway ended, opening up into a more spacious area with a table outcropping from the wall directly beyond the set of tall kitchen shelves with two nice-looking folding chairs. There was also a set of white cabinets that started at the height of the fridge and descended almost like stairs. Against the back wall was a large wrap-around couch, and the cushions were purple (which was awesome, obvi), and there were hanging potted plants and more windows, too, including two more stained glass ones, and if she looked up…
Holy cheese puffs, was that a chandelier? Upon closer inspection, it turned out that yes, it was most definitely a chandelier, and a mighty fancy one at that, by the looks of things.
“Hoooooookay, brosephina, this is a pretty snazzy location we have found ourselves in,” Mabel said.
“Well,” Dipper began as he stepped up behind her, “I figured you deserved something nice.” He wrapped his arms around her middle and nuzzled her hair.
“Errrrr. Okay then. No issues with that here, lemme tell ya.” Then a thought occurred to her. This was a very nice house-wagon-whatsit, don’t get her wrong, but if they were gonna be there through Sunday, where were they supposed to sleep? Or… do anything else? Would he even want to do anything else? Never mind that. “Soooooo where are we supposed to, like…” she trailed off.
“Bed’s in a loft,” he said into her hair, his arms tightening around her waist. “Up those stairs.” He pointed a finger at the cabinets she’d noted earlier. Huh. So they really were stairs, then.
“Right, so, um…”
Ugh. Why was she so damn nervous? It was irritating. This was her twin, her soulmate, her boyfriend! He had literally been inside her! She had no reason to be nervous!
She was, though, and she didn’t really know how to voice what she wanted.
Kiss me. Touch me. Get your dick inside me, like, freakin’ yesterday, dude.
“W- would you like to see it?” His voice was awkward, and he sounded almost as nervous as she felt. “The bed, I mean.”
Mabel nodded and he pulled away from her, blushing furiously, and she tried not to giggle. Dipper rolled his eyes. “Shut up, just c’mon.”
“I didn’t say anything!” she insisted as he grabbed her hand.
“I could hear you thinking,” he countered, leading her up the cabinets-slash-stairs.
She was still giggling through her nervousness when they reached the top of the stairs. The bed was a mattress directly on the floor with a striped comforter.
Hesitantly, Mabel sat on the bed. Dipper knelt down in front of her. He was looking at her lips when he took her hand again.
“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” His voice was soft, like he was afraid he’d scare her away or something.
Mabel remembered what Kristin had said about sex retreats and being whisked away to have her brains fucked out.
And then she remembered that no, Dipper could not, in fact, read her mind.
“Why would you think I don’t wanna do anything?” Had. Had he never encountered a mirror? Seventeen years of existence and the boy had never encountered a mirror. What were the chances? He shrugged. “Have you even seen yourself, Dip?”
“Huh?”
She forced her nerves down. He wanted her. She knew he did. She just needed to reassure him that she wanted him just as much. “You’re really freakin’ sexy, bro.”
He smiled hesitantly. “So, is it okay if I…?”
“Look, man,” Mabel said, “if you try a thing and I’m not about it, I’ll let ya know, but otherwise, go for it.”
“Okay, if you’re sure.”
“Uh, I am absotively posolutely sure.”
Grinning, Dipper leaned in to kiss her, and she smiled against his lips when he did. “I missed you,” she murmured against him.
He moved closer to her, pressing his body into hers. “I missed you, too,” he told her. “Now, I gotta be honest with you here, Mabes.” He pulled back a bit to look at her very, very seriously.
“Oh… kay?”
“This outfit,” he glanced down at her shorts and shirt. It was too hot for a sweater, so her top was light and breezy. It also showed off a bit of boobage, so there was that. “It’s cute, I like it and all, but I’d like it a lot more if it were on the floor.”
“Hmm…” she said thoughtfully. “On one condition.” She held up a finger.
“What’s that?”
“I’m only taking my clothes off if you take yours off, too. All’s fair in love and war, buddy-o.”
He grinned cheekily at her. “Is that right? And which is this?”
She shrugged. “Both, prolly.”
“Fair enough,” Dipper said with a chuckle before he pulled back to strip out of his clothes as fast as he possibly could. She was so busy watching him pull his shirt off that she totally forgot she was supposed to take her own clothes off, too. He paused before dropping his shirt to the floor. “Mabellllllllll,” he whined. “You said you’d take your clothes off, c’mon!”
“Right!” She started, almost surprised. “Right, right, sorry, my b.” Pulling her shirt over her head while simultaneously kicking off her sneakers at the heels, Mabel lay back on the bed, unbuttoning her shorts and lifting her butt to shimmy out of them. She wasn’t paying much attention to Dipper at that exact moment, or the way his eyes were wide and glued to her newly exposed skin, but when she finally got the shorts over her hips and down her legs, flinging them away from her with a flick of her foot, she looked up at him, and he was…
Whelp. He was totally nekkid, wasn’t he? She’d seen plenty of pictures lately (had a whole app she kept them in on her phone, even), but pictures on a phone screen ain’t got nothin’ on seeing her bro-bro in person.
“Looks like somebody’s happy to see me,” she grinned nervously at him.
“Gee, I wonder why,” he said sarcastically. “It’s almost like my soulmate is laying on a bed mostly naked right in front of me.” His eyes focused on hers for a moment before drifting back over her body again. “Which, by the way, you should be totally naked.”
“Fair enough,” she agreed, sitting up and reaching around her back to unhook her bra. He watched her, wide-eyed, as she pulled her arms out of the straps and flung the bra away. He watched, too, as she pulled her panties off the same way she had her shorts.
As it turned out, actually seeing how badly he wanted her, like, seeing legit physical evidence of it, well. It was something of a self-esteem boost.
He stared at her for several seconds. She stared back. Then he dove at her, and suddenly he was kissing her lips, her face, her neck, her breasts- it was quite a lot, really, and he seemed to be going pretty fast, too.
“Dipper,” Mabel gasped out as he attacked her nipple. There was really no other word for it. It was most certainly an attack. He was alternating between sucking it harshly and nibbling on it with his teeth, and it stung in the most delicious way.
He pulled off her breast with a pop, then trailed kisses down her chest and stomach, looking at her intently all the while.
“Wh- what’re you doing?” she questioned when he reached his presumed destination, spreading her legs to examine her body. Which, by the way, was tremendously embarrassing.
He looked back up at her. “Well, I was planning on, y’know…” he gestured to her vagina.
Mabel thought for a moment. “On one condition.”
“Another condition? Really?”
Nodding, she said, “you can eat me out, but only if I get to suck your dick after.”
He grinned up at her. “Deal.”
At that, he gave a torturously slow lick to her slit that ended just below where she really wanted it. She whimpered, which prompted him to do it again. And again. By the third incredibly slow lick, she was just about ready to scream at him before he thrust a finger into her and flicked his tongue over her clit in the same second, eliciting a gasp from her.
He thrust his finger in and out of her, slowly moving his tongue over her clit, and before long Mabel was whimpering again. “Ah- another,” she forced out. “Another finger, please.”
He complied, and when her fingers clenched the comforter, he moved a little faster inside of her, flicking his tongue in the same rhythm he was thrusting his fingers at, and she lifted her hips. He reached his other hand up to hold her down, to hold her still, and continued. “Close,” she gasped. “Don’t stop.”
Dipper hastened the flicks of his tongue, the thrusts of his fingers, and then he did something incredible. He closed his lips around her clit and started to suck gently. Mabel’s hand shot down to his hair, holding him between her legs, and her toes curled, bunching the comforter up in a tight grip beneath the pads of her feet, and she found herself instinctively fighting against the firm hand on her hip bone, trying to raise her pelvis closer to him.
“Ah- fuck, Dip, I’m gonna-“ he kept sucking her clit, only he started to flick his tongue over it at the same time, too, and Mabel shattered with a short, abrupt scream.
Her grip on his hair loosened and her hand fell to her side. Mabel’s entire body was tingling.
She’d forgotten how much stronger Dipper-assisted orgasms were than Dipper-free orgasms. She didn’t know if it was a soulmate thing, a Dipper thing, or an I’m-in-love-with-this-guy thing, and her brain was too mushy to care.
“Holy shit,” she panted, and he pulled away from her still-pulsing heat, pressing a kiss to the top of her thigh as he went. The extra tingles his lips caused traveled throughout the rest of her body.
“Sooooo… good, then?”
She glared at him. “Shut up, man, you know it was tops. Where’d you learn to do that, anyway?”
He reddened and looked away. “I maaaaay have done some online research.”
“What, like, porn?”
“Well, not for that specific purpose, no.”
“Then…?” she trailed off, looking at him expectantly.
“Okay, so I read some accounts from lesbians,” he confessed in a rush. “Mostly blogs and whatnot, and then I also talked to a few female friends I have-“
“Whoa there, pal,” she cut in. “What female friends? I dunno how I feel about you getting all the dirty deets from another girl.”
He blinked. “Oh, I talked to this lesbian friend I have, and also her girlfriend. Just… comparing notes, y’know?”
She looked at him incredulously for a few seconds, then burst out laughing. “Okay, okay, that’s fine. For a second there, I was worried you were exchanging extremely graphic details of our sex life with, like, Pacifica or something.”
Dipper blanched. “Yeah, no, not her.”
“Okay, cool.” After several more seconds, she looked him up and down.
Her bro was still sporting a big ol’ broner.
“I believe I was promised the opportunity to suck your dick in exchange for you getting the pleasure of eating me out.”
He blushed again. Holy bejeezus, he was adorable.
“You… you don’t have to, y’know,” he offered quietly.
“Well, yeah,” she agreed. “Of course I don’t have to, but it’s, like my new favorite hobby, brosephina.”
He grinned. “You’re pretty good at it, too.”
“Hmm,” she said, reaching down to grasp him. He gasped at the feel of her palm, and she motioned for him to lay down. “Maybe I’ll put that in college applications.” Once he was horizontal, Mabel leaned down and took the entire length of him in her mouth (or as much of him as she could fit, anyway) with absolutely zero warning.
Dipper groaned and leaned back against the pillow. “Fuuuuuuck.”
Humming around him, she bobbed her head, letting her lips slide over him and sucking in her cheeks. He reached down to grip one of her breasts, tweaking her nipple, and she moaned, the vibrations from the sound causing him to buck slightly into her mouth. She gagged a bit but kept going, pleased that he was enjoying himself so much.
Each time she only had the head of him in her mouth, she swirled her tongue around the top, dipping slightly into his urethra. “Holy shit, Mabes,” he groaned, fisting a hand in her hair. He didn’t push her head, though, for which she was grateful. Bobbing faster, obscene slurping sounds filled the loft, saliva dribbling down his shaft. His moans got louder, and she sped up as much as she could.
“Mabel,” he gasped. “Mabel, I’m gonna- you should move-“
She ignored him, grasping his testicles gently and taking him as deep as she could manage. She was pretty sure her nose brushed against his pubic hair on more than one occasion, actually.
He came down her throat with a shout that sounded almost pained, and she nearly choked on it all, but managed to swallow the vast majority of it. It was not pleasant-tasting, nor was the texture particularly appetizing, but when she looked up at him, he was gazing down at her like she was some kind of goddess, so it was worth it, she decided.
She pulled her mouth off of him, and when she did, a small amount of his semen dripped out of the side of her mouth. She wiped it away with the back of her hand.
“So, how was it?”
He looked at her incredulously. “You literally just swallowed my jizz and you’re asking me how it was?”
Mabel shrugged, grabbing his half-drunk water bottle that was off to the side of the bed. She sat up, taking a swig from it to wash that nasty-ass taste out of her mouth.
Eugh.
“It was awesome, Mabes,” he told her as she set the water bottle back down. She smiled happily at him, then lay down next to him and rested her head on his chest. “Downside, though, is I’ll need a bit before I can go again.”
“Eh, that’s fine.”
Turns out he only needed approximately ten minutes before he could go again.
She’d still been laying on his chest contentedly when he started running his fingertips over the side of one of her breasts, and when she looked up at him questioning it, he kissed her.
Dipper turned his body towards her, slipping his tongue into her mouth, and she felt his hardness press against her.
She pulled away with a laugh. “Already?”
“I’m seventeen, Mabel,” he pointed out.
She shrugged and went back to kissing him.
No objections from this girl, thank you.
He climbed on top of her before too much longer, his arousal pressing into her stomach, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, one of her hands at the back of his neck, her fingers threading through his hair.
He reached between them with one hand to grip one of her breasts again, squeezing it lightly. He kissed her neck, sucking a bruise into the skin, and she moaned softly. “Dip,” she murmured. “I need you.”
He reached between her legs to stroke her, finding her wet again. “I need you, too,” he groaned against her neck.
“Then take me,” she begged, lifting her hips to meet his fingers.
Positioning himself between her legs, he thrust into her with a groan, his head falling against her, his forehead resting between her breasts. “You okay?” he panted.
Nodding, Mabel wrapped her legs around the backs of his thighs. “Keep going.”
Pushing himself up onto his hands, Dipper pulled out of her almost completely, and she whimpered at the loss, gasping when he thrust back into her. He kept up his slow, gentle pace, like he was worried he’d break her, and eyes were clenched shut with the effort to restrain himself.
She reached up to stroke his cheek. “Let go, Dipper,” she said softly. “Don’t hold back. You won’t hurt me, I promise.”
When he pulled out and thrust back into her again, harder this time, like she’d wanted, she moaned and grasped his arms, her fingertips digging into his skin.
“Fuck, Mabel,” he groaned, his hips snapping against hers. “I missed this so much.”
“Me too,” she agreed, lifting her hips to meet each of his thrusts. “Please don’t stop.”
He leaned down to press his lips to hers desperately, hungrily, and she returned the kiss with just as much ferocity, her legs tightening around him.
“Harder,” she begged. She knew she was begging. She didn’t care. “Give it to me harder!”
Dipper complied, pulling back slightly to watch her breasts bounce in time with his thrusts. Mabel lifted one of her legs up to rest her ankle on his shoulder, and they both groaned at the new angle, the new depth.
“You feel so good,” he moaned, slamming into her again. “Fuck, I don’t- I don’t know how much longer I can-“
“I don’t care, I don’t care,” she gasped out. “Just fuck me, Dipper, please!”
Dipper rose up to his knees, lifting her hips to meet his and holding the leg she’d placed on his shoulder still as he pounded into her.
Clenching the fabric of the comforter in her hands so tightly her knuckles hurt, Mabel couldn’t seem to stop herself from screaming, begging him for more, not to stop.
Putting a hand on her hip to hold her pelvis against his, he gripped her hard enough to bruise, and all she could think was that she hoped it did bruise, she wanted to feel the remnants of this for weeks-
She looked up at him, his pained expression, the way he was staring between them, watching himself slide in and out of her harshly.
“Get me pregnant, Dipper,” she moaned. “I want it so badly, please, I need it-“ she cut herself off with a cry when he thrust into her again.
“I can’t,” he forced out. “You know I can’t.”
“Please,” she said again. “I need it, I need it so bad, fuck-“
He thrust again, moving his hand from her hip to her breast, pinching her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
“Soon, Mabes, I promise,” he groaned, leaning against the leg she had on his shoulder.
“Now, dammit,” Mabel demanded. “I want you to fuck a baby into me now!”
“I want it, too,” he confessed, squeezing her breast roughly as he thrust into her. “But we can’t yet. I’ll give you one soon, I swear, just-“ he cut himself off. “Fuck, Mabel, I’m gonna- fuck-“
“Cum for me, cum inside me, Dip,” she begged, desperate for it, for him.
“I can’t,” he groaned miserably, then reached between them and rubbed her clit in quick, harsh circles.
“Ah!” Mabel cried out, her toes curling and her body freezing up as her orgasm ripped through her abruptly.
He didn’t stop pounding into her, not even for a second, only lifted his hand away from her clit to hold her hip again, his head falling back. “Mabes, I- I love you, fuck, I love you-“
She knew he was seconds away from orgasming; his thrusts were short and stunted, harsh and bruising. “Cum for me, Dipper,” she encouraged. “Fill me up.”
He groaned her name again, then, to her tremendous disappointment, yanked himself out of her abruptly, his release spurting onto her vulva. Her hips fell back onto the mattress, and he collapsed on top of her.
After several minutes, he lifted his head up to look at her. “Do you really want me to get you pregnant? Like, now?”
She thought for a moment before answering. “Yeah, I do.” He seemed startled by that. “But I also know it’s not really… feasible right now. I really, really want it, but I know it’s not a good idea.”
He nodded and leaned in to kiss her slowly, lovingly, nuzzling her nose with his when their lips disconnected. “I love you, Mabel.”
“I love you more,” she countered with a grin.
“I love you the most,” Dipper insisted.
“Oh yeah?” she challenged. “Think you got me there, don’t cha? Well guess what, buddy: I love you infinity times the most, so there.”
He blinked at her. “Uhhhh… that’s not how math works. There’s nothing more than the most.”
“I don’t give a rat tooth if it’s ‘not how math works’,” she said in her very best Dipper impression. “I dunno if you’ve met me before, but I’m Mabel Pines, and I’m redefining math.”
He snorted. “If you say so.”
“Damn right I say so!” After a moment, she noticed the stickiness between them. “Errr… can you get something for that? I’m feelin’ a bit jizztastic here, bro.”
“Right,” he agreed with a slight blush. “Lemme, uh… lemme get something for that.”
“Coolio, I’ll chill here.”
He nodded and went down the stairs.
Well, Mabel thought. This is gonna be one awesome weekend.
Man, what's happened to everyone? The fandom's so quiet.
To their credit, some folks are still churning out some content, but yeah it’s certainly less. Part of the “blame” goes to waning interest (it has now been longer since the end of the show than the entire time the show ran), and that will only get worse over time. But here on Tumblr, in particular, the drop is even more noticeable. @pinecest-turtle is putting out regular cute scenes, @imnotoverlyobsessive has a couple of longer fics on the go, and there are other writers and artists, but you’ll find even more on Twitter and AO3.
Even when I have more stories (and eventually I will), I’m not sure I’ll be posting them here either, given that I had a very soft-core story (from six years ago) deleted from my blog after I reblogged it this past December. Clearly, Tumblr doesn’t want my content, so I’m not sure I want to keep trying here. From now on you should probably consider AO3 (archiveofourown.org/users/Edward_or_Ford/) as my “home”.
jacobvanloon
dededos
dailybridgerton
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