#lucy ann

[the-real-couchrat]

Thomas, Elisha, and Alcor doodles I was inspired to make from @alvie-pines’s awesome QPR Thomas and Dipper art

They’re kinda ugly but I love em 💕

[kempmaskin]

The winner from this polll! Thank you to everyone who voted :)

[transcendence-au]

Hank believes in forgiveness Lucy Ann scoffs at him but this is Hank we're taking about the people he "forgives" spend the rest of their lives looking over their shoulders and jumping at every little thing because clearly the infamous Don Pines can't be that forgiving and is just luring them false sense of security. Honestly pulling some form of revenge probably would have been kinder.

lucy ann never knows, truly, if hank is doing it on purpose or not

[thalassous]

... DEVIL VOICES TEMPT US FROM THE GROUND. 📯🌌⚡️

part ii of the loveliestest commission ever from @astralcurses and @fleshlycolored mwah! (raine from jinx of course)

[toothpastecanyon]

Return, to the Scene of the Crime - Chapter 21

Playing human again, Alcor makes it longer than he usually does. He's in college now, juggling classes, family, a curious vampire, and a strange, increasingly sinister web of mysteries weaving themselves around him. Without his omniscience to guide the way, he'll have to work hard to get to the bottom of this before it spirals out of control.

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

________________________________________________________________

Big Pine, California had not been a bustling city before the Transcendence. A sleepy settlement nestled against the snowcapped Palisades, it had been sheltered from the blast that turned the rest of Inyo County into an archipelago.

(Even the big tree it had been named for survived the Incident, which would have delighted Alcor if it hadn’t technically been a sequoia. The universe just loved ruining things for him, didn’t it?)

Because it remained so intact, it ended up a staging ground for rescue efforts, a temporary--soon permanent--regional capital, and a popular spot for displaced locals to settle into. With the obliteration of Los Angeles and its thirsty aqueducts, the Owens Lake filled again, and over the years its population swelled to the tens of thousands.

It wasn’t a megacity by any means, but to Dipper, living in the woods thirty minutes from a grocery store, going here always felt like Vegas. It was where they always went for stuff you couldn’t get in town--crematory parts, nice birthday gifts… neurologists.

And so, once again, Dipper found himself sitting in a colourful waiting room with his mother. He was rubbing his temple; she put a hand on his arm.

“Stop doing that. You’re making me anxious.”

Dipper wanted to argue, but one glance at her pale face and he held his tongue. He looked for the magazines, but found only kids’ toys and picture books.

“Huh,” Picking up a copy of Silly Billy’s Big Brain, he eyed the thick cardboard pages. “I never noticed how, uh, kiddy this place is.”

“You say that every time, dear.”

“Heh, I guess so. But seriously, am I supposed to, like, find another neurologist now, or-?”

“Oh, don’t ask her that, please.” She made a face. “As long as she keeps taking our bookings, I don’t care what her waiting room looks like.”

“I mean, I don’t care about her waiting room either, I just-”

“Just what?”

He hesitated. “Just… nothing.” He said, and then looked away. “It’s fine, Mom.”

And so they both sat, rigid and silent, until the sound of footsteps echoed from behind a door. Dipper looked up, and as he did his eyes did the thing again; he caught a glimpse of a nurse with a clipboard reaching for the door handle and--agh, shit, he squeezed his eyes closed before the pain spiked too bad.

eeeeeeeeeee…

“...Quicksilver?” A voice was saying. Hands on his shoulders--his mother’s hands.

“Yes, we’ll be just a second!” She softened her voice. “Are you alright? Did it happen again?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I’m…” He forced his eyes open, and smiled at her. “I’m fine. Just a small one, don’t worry.”

“Oh, my poor guy.” She cupped his cheek, then offered a hand. “Come on.”

The nurse looked exactly the same as he’d seen through the door. He gave a sympathetic smile. “This way, Mr Quicksilver.”

Measured, weighed, quizzed. The blood pressure sleeve slipped off his arm, and the nurse stepped back.

“Alright, I’ll let Dr. Deinolis know you’re ready for her. She’ll be with you soon.”

And then he was gone, leaving Dipper sitting on the exam table next to his mother. She grasped his hand.

“She’ll sort you out, dear.”

“Yeah,” Dipper felt the space where his necklace used to be. “Right.”

His mother pursed her lips; she looked away for a moment, at the friendly posters on the walls. Then she gave a sigh. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” She squeezed his hand. “I wish you’d-”

They were interrupted by a clop-clop-clop; someone stopped outside their door, and knocked a dun-dundun-dun-dun, dun dun!

“Is that Dipper?” said a bright voice. Dipper straightened; he nodded at first, and then he realised.

“Oh, uh, yeah!”

“Great! I’m coming on in!”

And with a crowfooted smile and stickers adorning her ID badge, in trotted Dr. Eirini Deinolis. A dun-coloured pony of a centaur, she still craned her neck to get through the door, her white coat stained with crayon smudges and scrunched up where her back met her withers.

Dipper didn’t remember the first time he’d met Dr. Eirini; her presence, like his Mom and Dad, had always been a constant. She’d seen him first when he was three months old and deathly sick; it was her who figured out a suspected glioblastoma was in fact a mysterious yet eminently manageable case of magical sensitivity. Figuring out the source of this sensitivity had eluded their checkups since then… but hey, if it hadn’t been for her, he may well have been done in by something as dumb as their old magi-light dimmers.

These yearly visits, they’d long ago started feeling… almost familial, like seeing a kindly aunt who sent you birthday cards and told you how big you’d grown. Or at least that was how he thought those things went; like the peninsula they lived on, the Quicksilvers were a shard of a family, a remnant of something larger. Dipper’s Dad was estranged, and his Mom’s parents, along with her sister, died tragically young--some kind of carbon monoxide leak in the crematory, but she never went into detail.

“Hey, Dipper!”

So maybe that was why, despite everything…

“It’s so good to see ya! How’ve you been? Wow, I can’t get over how tall you’ve gotten--like a bean pole, eh, Eva?”

…he felt a weight lifting from his shoulders. As he watched his mother give her a hug that lasted just a moment too long, he wondered if she’d been craving some normalcy, too.

“Ah, it’s good to see you both!” With a pat on the back, Dr. Eirini let her go and clopped over to the desk. “Alright, to business! Let me get my notes pulled up… ah, I noticed you guys moved our appointment up. Something’s changed since last year?”

Dipper couldn’t help but snort--god, what hadn’t? He could see her eyebrow quirk up.

“I see,” she said, her gaze straying lower. “You’re not wearing your necklace.”

His Mom huffed. “Yes, it got broken a few weeks ago. You’ll have to pry the details out of him.”

He felt his cheeks starting to burn, but the doctor didn’t press.

“Aww, that’s a shame! I’ve been fascinated by how well that charm worked; it’s made me pick up glassmaking myself!”

“Really?” He perked up. “Can you-”

“Oh, no, no, I’m still a total amateur. Whatever your sister is doing, it’s far beyond me; I just wish I could understand the mechanism!” Then, with a glance to his Mom: “Did you tell her I wanted to…?”

“It’s not a good time.” she said, flatly. Dr. Eirini’s smile faltered for a moment, and then she carried on.

“Oh, okay! No worries--we’ve managed things without your necklace, we can do it again!” Pulling up her tablet, she started typing away. “We were having some success with lithium before. I could book a blood test to get you started back on that--same clinic in town, right?”

“That’s right!” said his Mom.

“Great!” And she turned to Dipper. “That sound good with you?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah, that’s… fine.” He rubbed his neck. “Just, didn’t that take months to work last time? I don’t want to have to do all that just to have to start stepping down again when Mal finishes the necklace.”

“That’s a fair question. When do you think she’ll finish it?” When he shrugged, she shrugged back. “Then that’s harder for me to answer, really. You could hold out for her to finish if you think it’ll be soon, but in my opinion, it’s not a standardised treatment. The last necklace worked great, but if we don’t know how it worked, there’s no guarantee the replacement is going to be just as effective.”

Dipper grimaced. “Oh. That’s a fun thought.”

“I’m not saying it won’t, it could be great! I just think if that did happen, you might be happy to have gotten the ball rolling on this a little earlier.” A little grin. “Better safe than sorry, right? But of course, it’s your choice.”

His mother gave a gentle squeeze, and he sighed. “Yeah… yeah, that makes sense. Better safe than sorry.”

“It’s always your choice!” She typed a little longer, then turned that sunny smile to his Mom. “Alright, Eva, I just have a few more questions before I wrap up. You alright waiting in the lobby?”

His Mom blinked. “Oh! Uh, okay.”

“Don’t worry, it’s just policy. They want to make sure the university students are being honest, right?”

“Hah! Don’t I wish.” She looked to Dipper. “Okay, sweetie, I’ll be outside. Love you.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

And she gave a sad sort of smile at that, before she turned and headed outside. Now it felt much more like a doctor’s visit; Dr. Eirini kept typing for a moment, and Dipper straightened, smoothed the creases in his jeans, tried to think of what she was going to ask.

It was obvious, wasn’t it? And yet, when she set aside the tablet, leaned forwards, and asked in a kindly voice, “You doing alright?”--well, all the words in the world seemed to dry up on his tongue.

“Um, hah, uh…” He tried for a little laugh and a shrug, but she didn’t let him off. “You mean, like, medically? The lithium sounds good, uh… that sounds good, yeah.”

She just nodded. The silence stretched; shifting in his seat, Dipper tried to fill it.

“And, uh… yeah, it’s been a weird time, weird time. But I should be fine! Get this headache thing sorted again, and everything should go back to normal--as much as it can, anyway. Just, heh, have to hold out for that, right.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” She tilted her head. “This ‘weird time?’”

“Well… well, what’s there to talk about?” A pause, a laugh. “Uh, I guess. I guess you want to know what happened to the necklace.”

“You can tell me that.”

“Yeah, that was, that was a couple weeks ago. I-I was out with…” he made a face. “Some friends. In the forest, we just were messing around, I tripped, and–yeah.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Is that when you got suspended as well?”

Dipper’s head shot up. “What? When did you-”

“It’s alright, your mother told me a bit about that on the phone.” Her face creased into a sad smile. “I read about it on the papers as well… and what happened more recently.”

“Oh.” His heart felt like a rock; of course she knew. “You mean Gemma.”

“It’s awful news, truly awful. It seems like you’ve had a really hard time lately, Dipper; I just want to check that you have someone to talk about it with. Your parents? Your sister?”

He let out a snort, and immediately regretted it. “Uh, hah, sorry, that’s, I didn’t mean it like that.” A grimace. “Mal’s… I knew Gemma, yeah, but she was Mal’s best friend.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah, I-I’ve barely seen her since the news broke.”

Dr. Eirini gave a sympathetic nod, and then pressed on. “So you don’t have anybody at home to talk to? How about your friends?”

“Um, yeah, sure, I got… a friend.”

“A friend.” She typed something on her computer as his stomach twisted into knots. “I don’t mean to pry, it just seems like there’s a lot on your shoulders right now. I’m worried about you.”

“Oh–No, no, I’m fine!”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “Okay. But I’m going to write down some counselors in your local area. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but it’s good to have them on hand if you feel like you want to talk to someone, yeah?”

Dipper sank down in his chair. “Okay,” he managed, then: “Sorry.”

“Oh, no, don’t be sorry. What are you saying sorry for?”

“I don’t know, uh… everything?” He rubbed his neck as she wrote something out. “It feels like I’m making everyone worried about me lately, I-I don’t know how to stop that.”

“Hmm,” she held up a slip of paper. “I have a suggestion.”

“Hah, uh, right.” Cheeks blushing, he stood and took it from her. “I’ll… I’ll think about it. Thanks, Dr. Eirini.”

“Of course.” She rose to her four feet, and smiled down at him. “Well, as always, it’s been a pleasure to see you, Dipper. Is there anything else you wanted to talk about before we go?”

“I don’t think so,” came automatically, but as his mind caught up, he wondered: those visions of within Gemma’s house. How did he do that? Was that related to his condition? They certainly felt like they were, but–

“Are you sure?”

He glanced back at her, and his stomach tightened. No, no, that wasn’t– it was more than just a magical headache, it was like… it was like magic. His fingers tightened on the paper; she’d write it down, she’d send him off to someone else and who knows what they’d think of it? If the police thought he’d seen too much of the crime scene– no, no, no.

“Dipper?”

Her head was tilted now, and he rushed to reassure her. “No! Just thinking, but, yeah, no! Nice to see you too!”

“Okay. As long as you’re sure.”

“Yep!” And he slipped towards the door. “Alright, uh, good talk! Bye!”

“Take care, Dipper.”

Her words echoed as he walked down the hall, his ears ringing. Take care–if only he could. But no, he was in too deep, now.

His fingers crumpled the note into a ball, and he stuffed it into his pocket just as he made it back to his Mom.

[eggsistential-breakdown]

Have you ever drawn Lucy Ann? I love your art btw

I have now!

And thank you so much!!! I love your art too, your Lucy Ann is super cute, I hope you don't mind that I referenced her for this :P

[marshmellowextract]

[feferipeixes]

Show Some Respect? I haven’t heard of that one 👀

Hi tooth!! You definitely know this one -- it's the dabbing fic!

For everyone else: this is part of the Marciblane Arc, a collaborative work between me and Tooth that focuses on two Mizars named Marcia and Lane, and an r!Bill named Ben. A number of the other unfinished works in the list are also in this arc! There's an overarching story that involves the country being taken over by a fascist, pro-nat government, and a group of heroes taking them out (Lucy Ann & the Lunch Bunch).

And, well...

===

“It's our pleasure. Sorry that your daughter couldn't come along at the same time as you -- it's going to be a little tricky to break her out of that warded holding cell. We should be able to have her here in a couple of weeks.”

Jarem looked relieved. “Thank you, thank you so much. I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you.”

Then he did something that Lucy Ann was absolutely not expecting. Stone-faced, he raised both of his arms, bending his left at the elbow and holding the other parallel to it, so that they were pointing up at a 45 degree angle. Then, he dropped his head into the crook of his left arm, jerking his other arm slightly as if he’d sneezed. When he lifted his head again, Lucy Ann was staring back at him with a flabbergasted look on her face, trying to regain the ability to speak.

“Did… uh… did you just dab at me?” she stammered. Jarem only mirrored her confused look. Lucy Ann snickered, and elbowed Lane. “You just saw that, right?”

Then she glanced to her right just in time to see Lane dab right back at the guy. Lucy Ann’s jaw dropped so hard it could’ve cracked the concrete she was standing on.

Jarem's mouth curled up into a reverent smile. “There’s still some hope left for this country after all.” Then he gave them a little wave and walked out the door.

“Wha- but… the… wha- huh??” Lucy Ann gibbered.

Lane tilted her head. “There’s a lot of screaming in your brain. Are you also saying words or just screaming?”

“What just happened?” Lucy Ann finally managed to get out.

“Oh. This?” Lane dabbed again, looking far more solemn than someone dabbing had any right to look. If Lucy Ann hadn’t already been dead for thousands of years, she would’ve sworn the end was coming.

“Yes. What the hell is that about?”

“Oh. If you do it, it means you think preters are good and not bad. I saw Uncle Ben doing it -- he said it’s a sign of respect.”

Lucy Ann gaped, reduced again to random noises.

“Do you want me to do it again?”

She shook her head, holding up a hand to indicate that she needed a moment. She stopped babbling, stood up straight, took a deep breath in… and started laughing so hard that she fell to the ground. “Okay, okay, okay,” she gasped between roars of laughter. “Are you ready for some family fun? I think I’ve got some questions for Ben. Shit, Tyrone is gonna love this.”

===

Basically, I had the idea that Dipper taught Marcia how to dab in Songs from the Burning House when they were dancing together, and then it sort of got passed down between historical figures and the meaning behind it was lost, and it began to be seen as a preternatural rights gesture when punk icon Henrietta Rockit started doing it at her shows. The fic goes through several instances of it being used, including this tidbit that makes me laugh every time I think of it:

===

“So come on everybody, let's show some respect for our comrade Henrietta! Do you all know what she said we do to racist pro-nat garbage like Chancellor?”

Express raised his arms, bending his left at the elbow and keeping the other straight but parallel with the left. He pointed then upward at a 45 degree angle, and the entire congregation of protesters followed suit.

“WE DAB ON ‘EM!”

Express dramatically thrust his head into the crook of his left arm, at the same time as everyone else in attendance. A bellowing cheer rose through the crowd.