Tinfoil-Jones

Also known as 'Tin', or 'TJ' Just a person who likes to write and draw

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls Masterpost

[My AO3]

This masterpost just contains all of my other masterposts like an onion.

Gravity Falls AUs and other works I have:

One-Shots and Standalones

Tate Pines AU

Early Amnesia AU [For Your Own Good Fanfic]

Reverse Portal x Better World Crossover [What Did You Do? Fanfic]

Jerk Ford AU

[tinfoil-jones]

Have there ever been moments when JFAU Stan thought his brother WAS a jerk?

Well you see, it all started on the day they were born.

In all seriousness; it's not that Stan doesn't know his brother is a bag of dicks. That's his brother, he knows him better than anyone.

However.

Because he knows him better than everyobe else, he also knows that Jerk Ford isn't just a bag of dicks.

Jerk Ford's love language is acts of service, but he keeps those acts hidden. Stan, as someone he shares a twinstinct with, is someone Jerk Ford simply cannot hide from.

[tinfoil-jones]

Jerk Ford AU: Shifty Full Profile

[Art by @hoodedjelly]

[Smoky the cat art by @tearosepedall. Shifty True Form by myself and my younger brother]

“I can assure you, my resemblance to ‘the bean can guy’ is a coincidence.” - Fire Chief Doppelgänger, lying his ass off.

Demographic

Home Dimension: Dimension PJC311

Designation: Shifty-PJC311

Full name: Wolfgang Von Strange né Doppelgänger (Human Form), Shifty the Shapeshifter (Original Form), Smoky (Cat persona)

Nickname(s): (Fire) Chief, DG, Wolfy

Age: 30

Height: 6’2 (Human Disguise)

Weight: Approx ~300 lbs

Sex/Gender (Pronouns): As Shifty: Bigenital / Nonbinary (They/Them/It/Its) 💛🤍💜🖤 | As Wolfgang: Male/Male (He/Him) | As Smoky: Female/Female (She/Her)

Sexual/Romantic Orientation: Demisexual/Panromantic 🖤🤍💜🩶 / 🩷💛💙

Occupation: Chief of the Gravity Falls Fire Department, Ambassador of Paranormal Relations

Family: Thomas “Tad” Strange (Husband), Samuel “S” Strange (Son), Gravity Falls Fire Department (Adoptive Family), Dr. Stanford "Ford" Pines (Original Caretaker & Pseudo Father Figure)

Backstory: Here, Here, Here, and Here

Inventory

Worn:

Long sleeve V-neck shirt w/ Fire Dept Symbol (gray)

Turnout pants w/ hanging suspenders (brown w/ gray knee patches and yellow/silver reflective stripes, yellow suspenders)

Loafers (black)

Belt (black)

Wedding band (rose gold)

Weapons:

Shapeshifting

Other Equipment:

Crowbar

Halligan bar

Hatchet

Medicinal:

First Aid Kit

Misc.

Leather wallet

Family photo of himself, Tad, and Samuel

Connections

Named Friends / Allies:

Tate McGucket

Daryl Blubs 

Edwin Durland

Stan Pines

Manotaurs

The Hide Behind

Multi-Bear

Steve The Tree-Monster

Fairies

Named Enemies / Rivals:

Old Man McGucket

Celestabellebethabelle

Gremloblin

Lilliputtians

Bigfoot

Ma and Pa Duskerton

Gnomes

Preferences

Personality Traits: Clear-Headed, Principled, Guarded, Unforgiving, Serious, Irascible

Love Giving Language: Words of affirmation

Love Receiving Language: Acts of service

Likes: Quiet Introspection, Classic Cars, Nature Walks, Sunlight Patches

Dislikes: Cold, Scientists, Dogs, Untidiness

Hobbies: Cooking & Baking, Wax / Wood Carving, Mushroom Hunting, ‘Therapeutic Hunting’

Favourite Foods:

Beverage: Pitt Cola (Cherry flavour)

Alcoholic drink: N/A (Teetotaler)

Dish: Frijoles refritos w/ tortilla chips

Snack: Western Heart's Ease

Dessert: Marionberry Pie

Trivia / Other

Wolfgang's design is almost identical to Canon Shifty's first seen shift in the show - the man from the High Flyin' Beans logo. The differences are the outfit, and he makes it younger to match his age (30). His hair is black instead of gray.

They named themself when they were young at the insistence of the fire department as they were raising them.

—They are just as bad at naming things as Ford.

—One of the firefighters happened to be a German Literature Enthusiast with their favourite author being Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.

—Before they named themself, the fire department just called them "(Baby) Falls"

—Their human middle name is “Von” because they misunderstood that von/van just means of/from.

As Wolfgang, his clothing is real, seperate from his human shift. He'll hide his clothes somewhere for later when he takes other forms.

Shifty’s species seems to bear similarities to beetles, caterpillars, and butterflies / moths. 

—As a larvae, they had to sneak out at night to gorge themself on wild plants because their nutritional needs weren’t being met with human formula or food.

—They have an imaginal disc system which is what allows them to freely shapeshift

—Larvae of their species also eat toxic plants, which they cannot do as an adult without shifting their body chemistry and digestive system. This is so their larvae are too toxic to be picked off by predators or by adults of the species. 

—The type of plants they eat as larvae heavily influence their adult colouring.*

*Compared to their canon counterpart, Shifty’s true form is mainly greenish-white, and their eyes / appendage tips are purple. This is because as a larvae their favourite plant to eat was Parish’s Nightshade.

Palette for true form here.

They breathe through their skin, which is how they can breathe even when they shapeshift into objects that lack breathing anatomy. When they shapeshift into other creatures their shift would breathe the same way as an original creature of that species would, with their skin breathing being a backup.

Shifty does not drink alcohol or use other recreational substances because they do not want to risk losing control of their form.

Their cat persona, Smoky, is a Hemingway Cat (polydactyl), as a sort of nod to “The Author”. The design is also based off of "Bruno, the 'extra' cat" the only difference being that Smoky is a female cat and is missing one eye.

Regardless of their disguise, dogs are terrified of Shifty.

Shifty can change their proportions and density, but not their actual weight, when shifting. Regardless of what form they are taking, they are always around 300 lbs like their true form.

Tad thinks their son Samuel was born through an out-of-state surrogate. He was not. He was actually an egg that Shifty did not think was possible before.

Previous / first reference image by by Lariatcat:

[tinfoil-jones]

Somebody to Call My Own: Self-Love

Watchdog Ford isn't exactly known for kindness towards his alternate selves. Most times it's justified, sometimes it's a projection of his own self loathing. He is quite literally beating himself up or killing himself.

But that's only one aspect from Dimension 419"3's Ford Pines. Just like Canon Ford and the rest of the Fords scattered to the multiverse, he is an individual with many faces, and holds various relationships close.

It's ironic, really, that someone who struggles with hating himself finds some of his closest friendships with other versions of himself

[Art by @canadianno-gravityfalls]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TIBBY!!!

@nowimjustastranger

[Explanations and unobstructed image under the cut]

The first panel is Watchdog Ford and Jerk Ford, who's one of his more controversial counterparts. One thing they have in common is just how much disdain the Fordverse at large holds for them.

Jerk Ford does not share Watchdog's self-loathing trait, at least not internally. He's always believed his own hype, more self actualized than you'd expect from a man who gets banned from every dimension he steps foot in.

While their relationship is often joked about as borderline parasitic toxic, they truly do care for each other. Despite Jerk's constant bitching about Watchdog being an emo, he's one of the few people who never saw Watchdog as his persona.

In the upper right corner, two Common Blue Violets cradle the corner and represent Jerk Ford.

Fun fact: Jerk Ford refuses to call him 'Watchdog' to his face, only using the name when talking about him to others. Jerk calls him 'Watch', or an insulting nickname about his edginess.

The second panel snaps a selfie of Anti Ford and Watchdog, much to Watchdog's reluctant amusement. Another controversial version of Stanford Pines, Anti Ford is disliked for two reasons,

He's from the Anti Dimension

And he's Cringe.

The Anti Dimension exists to be the equal and opposite to what is 'prime' (which is the canon Gravity Falls / Dimension 46'\). Meaning all people from this dimension are meant to be the opposition of all of their alts. For this reason, Anti-Versions feel inherently 'wrong' to all of their alts, making trust and positive relationships difficult.

Given how Watchdog feels about most of his alts, he's more at ease with someone as far removed from the "mold" of Stanford Pines as possible. Because of Watchdog's reputation as 'The Ford Punisher', Anti Ford, a top contender for being The Worst Ford, was terrified of him in the beginning.

Anti Ford and Watchdog have learned to appreciate one another for their differences instead of letting reputations cloud their opinions.

Bordering them, Sunflowers that represent Watchdog himself bloom, and pressed into the wall behind them, Twinflowers, a nod at Anti Ford.

Fun Fact: Anti Ford uses different hashtags on his streams to identify when friends are there with him. The tag designated for Watchdog is #DawgofWar

The third panel shows Watchdog with Dr Pine from @aroace-get-out-of-my-face's AU, Multiverse Time with Dr Pine. Dr Pine is yet another Ford variant that doesn't fit the mold of the man. And Dr Pine is a puppet!

Where Watchdog shuts most people out, Dr Pine is openly gentle and supportive, owed to his experience working a children's show.

Watchdog's relationship is much more familial in comparison to the other two represented in this comic. Dr Pine fills in a surprisingly paternal role for Watchdog.

Watchdog hated his father, who was emotionally abusive to him and physically abusive to his twin. Watchdog even killed him years ago once he found evidence of the abuse.

But Dr Pine doesn't see an angry, violent sociopath, he sees someone hurt deep down, but whose love for his late brother is strong enough to power a need to save as many versions of him as possible from similar fates.

Watchdog doesnt see Dr Pine as just a walking stuffed animal. Watchdog sees a person who's been through the (sometimes literal) wringer and still chooses kindness.

Someone worth looking up to, even though he's only three feet tall.

Growing across the left corner are White Magnolias for Dr Pine.

Fun Fact: Watchdog is not the same age as Canon Ford. He's ten years older, just like Anti Ford. Dr Pine - along with Jerk Ford and most of the Fordverse - is a whole decade younger.

Throughout the piece Copper (Canadianno) makes several references to twins. From the twin moons, the flowers coming in sets of two, and the Gemini constellation, Twins are a supportive theme, and not just for the Stan Twins; Tibby is also a twin.

Watchdog's helmet is another repeated theme. Watchdog keeps it close, tucked under his arm or within reach. Despite it's presence in all three scenes, Watchdog doesn't wear it.

Because with with, he is comfortable being himself, who he is, Stanford Pines, the man under the helmet.

[tinfoil-jones]

Jerk Ford AU: Dateline

Sequel to Resident Menace and News Reporting.

Shortly after Dr. Stanford Pines disappearance and subsequent legally dead status, the people of Gravity Falls were interviewed by federal detectives.

The following are comments about the deceased, and his mysterious 'passing'.

Fiddleford H. McGucket, Best Friend: He made my life a living Hell. He used my banjo as a flyswatter, and told the entire town that my name was "Dr. McSuckIt". Eustace "Huckabone" Befufftlefumpter, Town Mayor: Personally, I'm glad he's dead. "Lazy" Susan Wentworth, Acquaintance: He was a nasty bitch. Mayor Befufftlefumpter: He was a huge frigging bitch. Preston Northwest, Local Rich Brat: You know when people say 'he lit up every room he walked into?' He didn't. He lit up every room he walked out of. He fucking sucked. Mayor Befufftlefumpter: I would have killed him myself if I wasn't so damn old. Carla McCorkle, Former Classmate: He convinced all of the kids in our school, and some of the teachers, to call Crampelter 'Whoreson', after fucking his mom. And, um... I still feel awful about that, because he went to foster care when she went to jail. Agent Powers, Lead Detective: When I asked the police who they thought the prime suspect was, they gave me an answer unlike any I've ever heard. Daryl Blubs, Police Sergeant: A lot of people wanted him dead, and almost nobody wanted him alive.

[Reference / Source below the cut]

[Video by Alidoesvideo]

[canadianno-gravityfalls]

Some Astra textposts (ft @/tinfoil-jones Jerk Ford in the first one) because I haven't posted in a while

[aroace-get-out-of-my-face]

Closet fashion shows are more fun when one has lived through centuries.

[aroace-get-out-of-my-face]

Multiverse Time with Dr Pine:

Delavay when an activity requires zero babies?

Delavay.

Delavay no.

DELAVAY NO.

[stoicjewel]

She’s gonna need some fucking ice

@aroace-get-out-of-my-face @tinfoil-jones

Transcript below

Cypress: hey (Pine) Trisha-

*punch sound*

Cypress: AGH- WHAT THE FUCK-

Pine: you are one of my very best friends, and I cannot stand by and watch you throw away your life like this.

*grabs face*

Pine: you’re too young. You’re too beautiful!

Cypress: … what the fuck are you talking about-??

Pine: I’m talking about the baby that’s growing inside of your belly right now.

*visible confusion.*

Cypress: … BUT IM NOT PREGNANT?!

Pine: not after that punch you’re not! I’ve been taking Muay Thai classes.

*pause for stupidity.*

Cypress: … I was never PREGNANT, (Pine) Trisha!

Pine: . Are. Are you sure?

*shaking Pine*

Cypress: YES IM FUCKING SURE!!

*Birch comes in*

Birch: I’m sorry, but why the FUCK is everybody yelling over here?

Pine: oh, I found this positive pregnancy test and-

*Birch elbows Cypress*

Cypress: OGH- MOTHER FUCK-

[aroace-get-out-of-my-face]

Was it CountBirch

Now its time for my absolute favorite image

(Wonderful countbirch art by @ryanishyperfixating)

[seamstriss]

Happy Birthday to the one and only @aroace-get-out-of-my-face!! All the love to you and the happiest of birthdays!! Enjoy your snippet!!

Birch was having a perfectly normal agreeable day minding his kelp and coral gardens. His claws snipped away unwanted weeds and he set his smaller crabs to shoo away the small schools of fish trying to make their homes in his garden. Unacceptable, he was no property manager, and he wasn't about to set himself on the task of figuring out how to pay the appropriate taxes. That, and it just sounded like too many work (and too much dealing with other beings). No, he had spent too much of his time dealing with others and he was done with it now. Now he just wanted to spend his days minding his gardens.

"My, my, my…." drawled a new voice, and it took everything in him not to immediately scream.

Though he did greet the new comer with a most cantankerous expression and displeased manner, "And here I thought the seafloors would leave me safe from the likes of you," he rolled his eyes, "I would say that's quite beneath you shark but one must be constantly lowering their expectations with you around." His crabs chittered angrily, snapping their tiny claws in the shark's direction.

The shark swam languidly and flicked his tail, laughing poshly, "Oh my dearest, I thought I told you to at least use my name when you want to insult me."

"Insult you?" Birch gasped, "why I meant it as a compliment."

"Darling, I never knew you felt that way, why didn't you tell me sooner? I'd have brought my best pearls for the occasion," the shark smiled rakishly at him. (Birch hated how good looking it was, how his sharp teeth sparkled and how his smile reflected in his thousand shiny garden stones).

"Sharks have no business in this garden, go, shoo. Do whatever it is you do but do it elsewhere," Birch turned purposefully to ignore him, turning all his attention to his gorgeous anemone bushes.

"There's no where I'd rather be dearest." Birch could feel the shark swimming closer to him, the sea felt all the more playful the way it followed his movements.

"A whole wide ocean, and you just have to pester me?" He bit out.

"A whole wide ocean, and there isn't another that is your equal," he felt the shark just behind him, hands just a ghostly touch on his shoulders, "though what I wouldn't give to swim beside you as yours."

(Birch hated how he shivered, how he delighted in Codrut's words and carved them into his heart, his mind, his veins. He'd be haunted by this in his dreams, by that what if in that touch and the desire that dripped from Codrut's smile).

Just as quickly the shadow of him was gone, and with it that tension that spoke of possibility and something more.

"Really I just came to pass along my greetings and to see that delightful smile of yours."

Birch's scowl, which he had indeed been wearing since he'd been graced by the shark's presence, deepened. "You came all this way….just to bother me?"

The shark laughed, "everyday I endeavor to make you fall more and more in love with me."

"The foolish goals of a hopeless romantic who should know better," Birch scoffed.

"Hmm, I'd agree," then he leaned closer, "but if you hadn't blushed then I wouldn't have reason to hope."

Birch felt his anger rising and furiously waved his arms, "Begone with you, Codrut! You…you foul, wretched beast! You are ruining my garden and upsetting my crabs!"

The shark laughed as he dodged Birch's claws and when he had backed far enough away he dodged clods of weeds and rocks.

"Same time next week dearest?"

"OUT!" Birch watched him swim away and once he was sure he was gone he turned back to his garden (that he had made a right mess of). His consortium of crabs all stared at him and blinked, one eye and then the next.

"Why are you giving me that look?"

They didn't answer, just blinked at him.

"Alright, enough distractions, back to work!" The little crabs skittered away, weaving themselves seamlessly back into the garden to mend the damage Birch had wrought in his little hissy fit.

Birch did not spend the rest of his day distracted. Nor did he replay the memory of that interaction over and over. (Nor did that smile taunt him in his dreams, leaving him aching and anticipating the shark's next visit).

And elsewhere, a shark wasn't sighing wistfully thinking of his unwilling lover, or the fact that he had finally called him by his name. (Even if it had been to insult him). And he certainly wasn't thinking of the lovely flush that graced the back of said unwilling lover's neck (or how the heat of it would feel on his lips). And he wasn't thinking of how Birch's flush would deepen and the moment he would turn and Codrut could behold those sparkling eyes finally returning his affections. Codrut held the sea flower that his lovely gardener had thrown at him (though he liked to think Birch picked it out just for him) and brought it to his nose, relishing in the way the petals tickled his face.

No, everyone was thinking very pure thoughts indeed. Though they were thinking of each other, and when they would see each other next.

Based on Miss E's art!

[artistredfox]

Happy birthday, @aroace-get-out-of-my-face!!

I wrote this for you. It's a topic I've never written before and also characters I've never written before. I hope you enjoy!

(Also, huge thanks to @seamstriss for beta-reading.🤟♡)

Now, without further ado, let's get into it.

Today was the day the knight would go on his journey to slay the dragon. It was still early in the day, barely after sunrise, but putting on his armor always took a long time. So many pieces and buckles to fasten. Lucky for the knight, he had a squire to manage all of that for him.

The knight stood still in the center of the room, while his squire bustled about him. He was, as always, efficient. Likely because the knight had never been one to put up with anything less than efficiency.

He turned his head, making eye contact with his reflection in the mirror on the wall.

His stern expression did not waver as he looked himself over. He liked to think that- despite his smaller than average stature- he cut an impressive figure. Wide shoulder pauldrons, solid breatsplate, heavy steal polished so clean it shone like silver. The squires present in his lordship's court had spent all night ensuring that he would be eye-catching. This would not last very long once they got on the road, but that sort of thing had never really mattered to the king. Everything was a performance to him, and every actor needed to be at their best.

Especially when it was time for them to make what may be their final appearance on the stage.

The squire paused in front of him, holding out the final piece of his armor.

The knight took it without a word, staring down at the metal. It reflected his furrowed expression back at him, seeming to accentuate the heavy bags under his tired eyes. His frown deepened.

There was a knock on his door, and he set the helmet down on the table with a sigh. He turned, his metal armor clanking slightly. He schooled his expression, smoothing away any discomfort. “Come in.” His voice was gruff and disinterested. 

The door opened, and his patron stepped inside. The Count's long cape flared out behind him, casting a dramatic silhouette in the pale dawn sunlight. He scanned the room, smiling politely when he set eyes on the squire, who stood frozen from surprise.

With practiced ease the knight dropped to one knee, bowing low. “My lord Count. To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“You are leaving the city tonight.” The Count replied, moving out of the doorway. “I thought it only right I come and give you a proper send-off.” 

The knight glanced up, watching the nobleman. His back was straight and tall, the regal bearing proper for a man of his status. His hands were clean and manicured, the hands of someone who had not been involved in hard labor.

“What of my march through the streets?” The knight retorted. “Is that just for fun?” 

The Count rolled his eyes slightly, then waved a hand at the squire. "You may leave us." His voice was pleasant, though dismissive. The other man fled the room without another word.

After the Count shut the door, he continued speaking. “You know as well as I that the march is for the benefit of the people.” He moved closer to the knight, who remained knelt on the floor. “No, this send-off is for only you and I.” 

The knight bowed his head once more. “That is very kind of you, my lord Count.” 

“Stop that.” The Count scolded. “There’s no need for such things when it is just the two of us.” 

The knight said nothing, but lifted his head to look the nobleman in the eye. The nobleman’s eyebrows had furrowed, his mouth drawn. His regal posture had slackened, the propriety unnecessary in such company.

The Count ran a hand through his hair with a huff. “Was there truly no one else the king could send?” 

The knight laughed. It was not a mirthful sound, instead an irate one. “Who would you have him send? Perhaps Ser Theo, who was still my apprentice this time last year? Or maybe we should only send my squire, and hope my ill-fitting armor will protect him from the dragon’s breath?” The knight leaned closer, a sardonic smile on his face. “Do you wish to see the dragon dead, or would you prefer a dead dragon slayer?” 

The Count sighed through his nose. “You know that is not what I mean.”  

“And yet, that is the only answer I can give.”  

The Count stepped forward again, reaching out the press a hand against the knight’s cheek. The hand was cold, colder even than the armor had been. The knight leaned into it and closed his eyes, relishing the familiar contact. 

The thumb rubbed back and forth against his face, rasping in the short scruff that covered his cheeks. "My knight, you would do anything I asked, wouldn't you?"

The knight tilted his head, pressing a kiss to the inside of the count’s wrist. “If you commanded me to, Codruț,” He murmured into the cool skin, “I would endeavor to bring you the dragon’s still beating heart.” 

The thumb paused in its ministrations.

“And what if I commanded you to stay?” The Count replied. “What if I told you to remain by my side, to ignore the king’s summons?” 

The knight opened his eyes. Codruț was looking down at him, lips down-turned in a frown.

He raised a gauntlet, gently curling his fingers around the Count’s own, giving them a squeeze. "To command me this way is to command me to seek my own death. Would you truly desire such?"

"You know I do not." Codruț leaned forward, pressing his own kiss into the knight’s curly hair. When he drew back, his eyes were wet with tears. “For my last command before you leave; I order you to return safely.” 

The knight surged forward, capturing the nobleman’s lips. Their lips pressed together, the contact firm and certain. When he drew back, he murmured into the air between them, “I swear, I will do so. Even if all the devils themselves come up from below to dog my footsteps, I would slay every one of them to ensure I return safe.” 

“I’ll hold you to that.” The Count whispered. Then he leaned forward to kiss him again.

The kiss wasn't heated or rushed. It was solid, and continuous, the prolonged kiss of lovers who didn't want to pull away.

However, at some point, everything must come to an end.

Codruț pulled back. He let go of his knight's face, extracting his hand from the knight's grip. He ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it back into place.

The knight watched him, feeling an inexplicable ache deep in his chest. It you ignored the slight flush to the count's lips, you could be forgiven for thinking nothing happened.

Codruț turned, cloak swishing, and walked back to the door. As he walked, his posture corrected. His back straightened, his shoulders squared, and soon he was back to his usual clean and proper self.

The Count paused with his hand on the doorknob. For a moment, he just stood there. Then he looked over his shoulder. "I will be awaiting your return with bated breath, Sir Birch."

The knight bowed his head again. "I will do all I can to hasten our reunion. If it were possible, I would run my horse at speeds even the eight winds cannot compete with."

Birch's gaze flicked back up in time to catch the count’s smile. It was not a happy expression, rather one filled with unspoken grief. "I know you would." He replied softly. Then he opened the door and, with a swish of his cape, left the room.

Sir Birch was alone. He remained kneeling on the floor for a long time. After a while, he reached up with a hand, gently tracing the spot on his cheek that still tingled from a phantom touch.

Then he stood and retrieved his helmet.

[emfluent]

CountBirch Proposal 🥰

@aroace-get-out-of-my-face

(wedding + honeymoon coming in separate post!)

[stoicjewel]

Can we not talk shit first thing in the morning?

@aroace-get-out-of-my-face @tinfoil-jones

[aroace-get-out-of-my-face]

Hey E. Asking for no reason but are Count and Birch about the same height. Or is one slightly taller than the other

The thing is, all the puppets are short.

Moreover, Birch is condemned to being the shortest in every lineup. Hes shorter than the count by 🤏 much

[aroace-get-out-of-my-face]

Squishing your local vampire is very good for your mental health. Also theirs probably, I dunno.

My continued streak of CountBirch on every national holiday continues, I work tirelessly to keep my presidential campaign promise and that is why you should elect me. Trust me, I’ll make Miss Piggy my Chief of Staff it’ll be great

[liz-the-box]

MORE SILLIES!!!!!!

and Sparky's first interaction with Birch!!!

Dr. birch belongs to @aroace-get-out-of-my-face