#presidentstalkeyes

[hellmandraws]

Charity commission for @presidentstalkeyes, featuring their designs for the Pines parents! That awkward moment when you find out what some equilateral bastard did to your kids last summer... 😬

[mandaloriandragontrainer]

Re: Dipcifica Headcanons: One time Pacifica tried to take Dipper out clothes shopping, but got frustrated because he kept going 'ehhhh' and was fine with 'sticking to what works'. Then, as a joke he suggested she go to a thrift store instead, but she took it seriously and she found herself suspiciously appreciative of tacky outdated fashion that no-one wants. Dipper jokes that Mabel's been rubbing off on her. :V

If anyone draws Paz in her dorky adorable thrift store outfit while Dipper looks on with heart eyes I’ll give you my left foot.

She secretly loves it because her parents wouldn’t let her play dress-up when she was little.

[hydrangeathief]

In the Swear Jar AU, has Pacifica ever said fuck?

yes but only in french

[avengedog]

A commission for @presidentstalkeyes!

Shoot me a message if you’d like a commission like this one!

[temiree]

Commission for PresidentStalkeyes, featuring his honey badger character, Beeswax, once again! Why is he angry? Why is he firing a huge minigun in the middle of a desolate, winter forest? That’s for you to decide. :B

[graboidfarmer]

Oooh ooh! If you're still taking prompts, how about some Mouse & Wendy bonding? I kinda want to see her visit the Corduroy household and meet her brothers. Lots of headcanon potential with that bunch. :V

@presidentstalkeyes I had so much fun writing this, I forgot it was supposed to be a drabble. Whoops.

—————

HELP!!!

You stare at the text on your phone for what feels like way too long, wondering what you should do. Finally you summon the nerve to compose a reply:

I’m sorry, who is this?

As you wait for a reply, you glance down at Porridge, rolling around on the floor like a little idiot. Who could be texting you at seven AM on a Saturday morning?

At length another text comes through, and you can’t help but laugh.

It’s Wnedy. Soos gave me your number. Sry to put you on the spot, but my family is dorving me CRAZYYY. Can I cmoe hang out w you guys?

Wendy Corduroy. Eldest child and only daughter of “Manly” Dan Corduroy, local lumberjack and maniac. You’ve spoken with Wendy at the library a few times, but you usually try not to disturb her. From what you’ve seen of her family around town, she could use all the quiet time she can get.

You arrive at a quick decision:

Of course! Would you like me to come and pick you up?

That would be great! Thanks so much!

She texts you an address, and as you look it up on your phone’s navigation app, you realize her house is way the hell out in the sticks. Which begs the question: How did she get to the Mystery Shack every day when she worked here? Did she ride her bicycle the whole way? Holy crap.

You decide to leave Porridge behind, just in case Mr. Corduroy is tempted to use her pelt for a new scarf or something, and go outside and climb into your car. As you head deeper and deeper into the woods, cringing every time your vehicle bottoms out in a gaping pothole, you begin to second-guess this little excursion. But it’s too late to turn back now.

Finally you spot a cabin in the middle of a clearing, covered in moss and surrounded by rusted cars and appliances. A giant two-man crosscut saw hangs over the front door. Yep, this looks like the place.

You nearly trip over a long-handled axe as you make your way to the door and knock. Immediately several screaming voices, accompanied by several sets of thundering footsteps, reach your ears. The door flies open, revealing three red-haired young boys of varying sizes. You start to introduce yourself, but you’re cut off by the oldest boy.

“Wendy!” he bellows. “That librarian lady is here!”

“Oh, my God, manners, Marcus! Ever heard of them?” You watch as Wendy pushes her brothers out of the way. “Hey,” she greets you with a tired wave. “Etiquette dictates I should invite you in, but I can’t guarantee your safety.”

“I’m… sure it’ll be fine,” you say, not sure at all.

She waves you inside, and you take in the exposed beams, the red tartan wallpaper, the general atmosphere of total chaos. As the boys bombard you with questions, you hardly know how to respond.

“Where are you from? Are there plaidypuses there?”

“Do you like camping? And hunting? And fishing?”

“Have you ever heard of a caber toss? Want to watch me try it?”

“You guys, seriously! Go bug Dad or something!” Wendy sighs as the boys stampede off to sow mayhem elsewhere. “Sorry about them. I’d say they’re not usually like that, but it’d be a filthy lie. Water?”

“Sure.” You follow her into a cozy kitchen equipped with a potbelly stove, and she pours you a glass. “For what it’s worth, you don’t have to apologize for your brothers. The truth is, I always wanted siblings.”

“You want to buy one?” Wendy smiles to let you know she’s joking. “Yeah, I know. They’re hyper and insane and always getting all up in my business, but I still wouldn’t trade them for anything. It’s just… hard sometimes. My dad works his butt off to make sure we have a roof over our heads, but… he’s usually too tired to do anything when he gets home. So I have to look after the boys. It’s exhausting.”

You nod in sympathy. “Don’t tell Stan I said this,” she continues, “but he kind of saved my life last summer when he hired me to work at the Shack. If I hadn’t gotten a job in town, my dad would have made me go with him and my brothers up to the logging camp. And I never would’ve gotten a break from them. I probably would have lost my mind.” She laughs. “I was a terrible worker. Stan threatened to fire me, like, every day, but he never went through with it. I think he knew how much I needed to get away.”

You smile. “That sounds like Stan.”

“Yeah. He’s a good guy. He only pretends to be a jerk.” She casts you a sly look. “His brother sure is a silver fox, am I right?”

You sip your water nonchalantly. “Oh? I didn’t notice.”

“Sure you didn’t. And Soos doesn’t have an infinite pizza slice in his sock drawer.”

“I can leave you here, you know,” you tell her dryly.

“Not if I hotwire your car!” she shouts, suddenly darting past you and out the front door.

“Hey!”

[mandaloriandragontrainer]

As an alternate possibility to the previous headcanon, Dipper in sports focuses more on gymnastics and athletics, meaning the muscles he develops are more compacted compared to his grunkles. Slender, not skinny. Pacifica can appreciate it because it means he's lithe and agile. Makes for a better dancer and/or fencing partner that way. :V

Any muscly Dipper is a good Dipper.

[graboidfarmer]

Sayyyyy - if you're still taking requests for yer fic thing (which I still need to catch up on) - how about that bit in Chapter 14 where Mouse and Pacifica have a Moment where they realize they've fallen for giant nerds? :V

As you wish ❤️