TRUST NO ONE

By signing this official document, you are hereby agreeing to dedicate your life, your afterlife, and any potential clone-lives to the discovery, uncovery (Is that a word?), and exploration of the paranormal, the alter-average, and the extra-usual. When friends ask you to stop being paranoid, you will scoff. When they say that you’ve been acting really weird since you read that book and they don’t even recognize you anymore, that means they’re jealous; you are like me now. We are part a higher calling. We will meet one day, and on that glorious day, we will show the small-minded doubters we were right all along, and are also really cool, and they should have been nicer to us. Okay that’s about it. This sort of sounds like a supervillain manifesto in retrospect. But you get the gist. Dipper is playing with fire.

[dexendens-blog]

      [The look he gave her was like a punch to the gut.                          She knew that kind of anguish all too well. She might not know the cause of it, but the feeling? The look? It was all too familiar. The blonde made sure not to let show just how much his pain was known to her, though her hands balling into fists at her side might have given it away. Her eyes went down, anger in them. Who did this? That wasn’t the kind of look she’d expect from him, not ever. So who did this?]

                  [It didn’t matter now, though. He didn’t want to talk. He wouldn’t have to. She wouldn’t force it out of him. It wouldn’t come out right, and she knew it. Her gaze returned to him, her nails no longer pressing her palms as she took a breath. This is fine, she told herself, trying to make a sympathetic smile appear.]

      ♕-

                   Sure. I get it. Do you… Have my number? Or something like that?                             Because if— If you want to talk to someone— About anything. Seriously. You can try calling me. Here.

                          [She had reached for her purse, pulling out a receipt that should have been thrown out a while ago and a pen, writing her number in it and handed it to him.]

                     I… I know it might not seem like you’ll need this, and even if you really don’t ever need this, just take it. And if you ever do need me, I’m just one phone call away. You won’t be a bother, I promise.

          [She knew how much she needed someone to talk to someone sometimes, and how much it hurt not to have that someone. And, seeing as Dipper didn’t appear to have many friend around town, maybe this would be good. It wasn’t much, but it was something.]

[xaranoia]

       [...He had to admit, Pacifica’s reaction was unexpected.                   Not that he was complaining -- he’d honestly been anticipating her yelling at him, lecturing him for not opening up to anyone, something akin to what Mabel would do -- perhaps even just scoff at him and leave altogether. Yet...                                    she was surprisingly sympathetic; at least, compared to how she used to be. Rather than huff at him and walk away, she was instead offering him her friendship -- her number, a way to contact her whenever he felt like finally opening up, which likely wasn’t anytime soon. Still, it...was a nice gesture that left him speechless.]

                   [It was difficult to believe that, only just two days ago, they were almost enemies -- being almost rivals with his sister, he felt it necessary to approach her with particular caution, and...he’d even thought of her as the worst scum of the earth, another link in the world’s worst chain. Now? He was left in awe by how thoughtful and empathetic she was to issues she wasn’t even fully aware of.]

                          [Though obviously a tad forced, and definitely fragile, Dipper managed a small smile; he hadn’t expected anything like this from Pacifica, but...it almost made him happy. He was glad to notice how much the blonde had changed, had grown so caring, and -- and was there to lend him a hand, so to speak. It was a drastic change, but one most certainly welcomed and appreciated -- though his issues were far from gone, nor over, the resulting stress from them had eased a bit.]

                     ◬-

                           ...Thanks, Pacifica. It -- it really means a lot, a-and...I’m sorry that I can’t talk now. I mean...you’ve really changed. I-I’m happy to see that, but...like I said, g-gotta...gotta go.                                                   [He bit his lip, debating what move to make next -- he was almost tempted to give her a hug or something, but instead settled on gently taking the scrap of paper she’d offered him and maintaining a steady grip on it. He had the slightest temptation for him to just set off without another word, but -- was almost reluctant to, despite being so keen on it before.]

                                             [After all, she was offering him friendship and the opportunity to come to her with his issues whenever he so pleased, and...he just wanted to be left alone, though he also had the slightest urge to blurt out every little excruciating detail about the problems that were bothering him -- but he held his tongue, allowing her to make the next move.]

                                                     ŦŔŪŞŦ הø øה£

[xaranoia]

「never let him into your mind」:

▼— - “Yesh, kid! Again with the eye imagery!”

Bill makes his way over, hands calmly laying across the top of his cane. The boy’s mind was much more fragile tonight making the being purpose of being there much more purposeful.

“I’m only tryin’ to help you, Pine Tree! Why else would I be here!”

                     ◬-

                           Here to “help?”                                              Right; I’ve never heard that before.

                                           [Dipper crossed his arms and averted the demon’s gaze, almost frightened that if he looked upon the triangle’s single eye, then he’d instantly be hypnotized into making a deal. He might have been vulnerable, especially after...after being almost betrayed, in a sense, but -- he wouldn’t make a deal that quickly. Not at all, in fact -- at least, he wasn’t keen on it. He’d been fooled by Bill before, and heck if he wanted that happening again.]

                                                    Listen, Bill, I’m -- it’s not gonna happen, okay? I’ve already been tricked by you before, and I’m not letting it happen again, s-so -- just go away. Leave me alone -- go stalk some other family.

                                                    ŦŔŪŞŦ הø øה£

[xaranoia]

「pacifica」:

                     [Now was not the time to be moping, she told herself. She wasn’t just going to let him leave with that amount of emotional pain as it was, not if she could help it. Of course, she also didn’t want to say the wrong thing, but she wasn’t used to this kind of thing. She wasn’t used to… Supporting others. Still, though, Pacifica had to try.]

♕-

                Not… Really?                                 Look, Dipper, if something’s bothering you, I can listen. It seems like the town can handle itself without me, and I’ve got lots of time in my hands. If… If something is up and you don’t really… Just… Just do you… Need someone to talk to?

                          [She sighed internally. Her proposal was genuine, but, for once, the heiress wasn’t sure what to do or how to voice it. The town was a wreck, but her biggest dilemma seemed to be, instead, the Pines boy, who hopefully considered her as a friend just as she did consider him. Not only that, though he was one of the few people -and, in fact, likely the only- that she had opened up to about her family. Somehow, if she could return the favor…]

       [...There it was; of course Pacifica wouldn’t understand, as she hadn’t been through the emotional turmoil that Dipper was enduring. For once, she was genuine and trying to help, but -- ugh, why now? Why, when he was under such intense emotional duress? It was almost as she was mocking him, showing up at such a crucial turning point, but...]

                  [...Of course she wasn’t. She was just trying to help him out, and how was he returning the favor? By being a complete jerk; it was almost as though they’d inexplicably switched roles, and it almost made him...even more anxious.                                Pacifica was offering him something he might truly need, someone to vent his problems to, but he refused to accept her offer. Call it selfishness, or discourtesy, but -- though it was something he needed, it wasn’t anything he wanted. He didn’t want her to be so concerned over him; he wished that she would just go about her business without intruding on his issues like she was Mabel, trying please everyone. Dipper flashed her a sincere expression that reflected his inner turmoil, hoping she’d get the message that he didn’t necessarily want to be so cruel, but just couldn’t speak to anyone at the moment.]

                    ◬-

                          ...Pacifica, I...I’m sorry, but I really have to go. Just -- please, understand when I say that I don’t want to talk about it, o-okay? It’s just -- I...                                                 I’ve just -- I’ve gotta go. S-Sorry.

                                                     ŦŔŪŞŦ הø øה£

[limboic-blog]

xaranoia

      “I think you’re being too        hard on yourself, actually…”

[xaranoia]

                    ◬-

                           R-Right, right, I’m being too hard on myself for -- for getting lost in the woods!                                                 I-I mean, it wouldn’t be such a big deal if I could get back, or if I was new to the whole wandering in the woods thing, but -- it’s like there’s no way out! What am I supposed to do?

                                                     ŦŔŪŞŦ הø øה£

[liarmonsterxsnappydresser-b-blog]

I’LL BE HAVING TIME BABY’S TEARS ON THE ROCKS

[xaranoia]

I LIKE YOU.

      [Dipper’s pen trembled in his grip as he stared down the blank sheet of paper before him; this was it. This would be the very medium of which he would use to confess to Wendy — verbal confession wasn’t something he was too confident in, and he wasn’t sure how else he could do this without being awkward — too awkward, anyway. It —            Well, it was a way of confessing without him having to immediately see her reaction or the repercussions of his letter. He wouldn’t have to witness her face likely scrunching up in disgust, nor her scoffing at him and mocking his crush on her — o-or, maybe even…her lighting up and responding with an “I like you, too.” His heart pounded at the thought, unlikely as it was…]

           [Y-Yet, if it was unlikely, why was he even bothering? What was the point — wh-what if she flat-out said no, and that she never wanted to be his friend again — ?                    …No, now wasn’t the time for concerning himself over such trifles — she…she definitely wouldn’t refuse to be his friend, r-right? It was — it was best to just be honest, finally get his feelings out and express them in a…healthy sort of manner, instead of bottling it up and being too timid to even approach her in conversation. Right? R-Right.]

                […How did people write these again? How did they start these out — w-was a greeting like “dear __” too formal? W-Was it alright in this sort of context, or should he just address her by name, o-or…ugh. Writing these was way more difficult than it seemed.                           “Dear Wendy”…was that okay? Would she think it was kind of lame? M-Maybe he should be a bit bolder with his greeting, and with his words — sh-she’d like that, or something, right? G-Girls liked it when guys were bold and daring? No, if that was the case, th-then she never would’ve dated somebody like Robbie…]

                     [This was so frustrating. He couldn’t even get his feelings out in his thoughts — yeah, he’d just…he’d just go with “Dear Wendy” for now. Dear Wendy…Dear Wendy…                                 What came next? An expression of his feelings, a description of their history together, and how he’d come to admire her and gradually develop feelings for her — ? No, no, no, that…that was too boring. Maybe for a story, b-but not here — not for confessing his feelings to a huge crush of his. He should…be straight to the point, or something — bold. “I like you.”                                             N-No, just that on its own was too bland, too…undescriptive. It — it could be misconstrued as him confessing that he felt they were best friends, and that was something that didn’t quite need confession. S-So…]

                           [Dear Wendy, I need to tell you something. Dear Wendy, would it be weird if I told you I liked you? Dear Wendy, do — do you like me, maybe? Dear Wendy, I might…like you as more than a friend. Is that okay?                                      …Ugh, none of those would do. How did anyone find it in themselves to write these darn things? You ended up worrying so much about the recipient’s reaction to your words that you couldn’t even get them out. Instinctively, Dipper began chewing on his pen —                                                   Dear Wendy, I hope you don’t think it’s weird that I like you. Dear Wendy, what if I told you I liked you? Dear Wendy, I — I love you. Dear Wendy, I’ve been meaning to tell you, I — I love you, I always have, and I hope you love me too. Dear Wendy, this is going to sound really lame and whatever, but — I…really like you.]

                                  [SNAP!                                              The crackling explosion of Dipper’s pen, followed by the taste of ink he soon spat out in a direction adjacent from his still nearly blank letter, alerted him once more — with a grumpy sigh, he set his pen aside and grabbed a spare. His pens always shattered when he chewed on them during his…heavier thinking sessions.                                                         Maybe he was just…thinking too hard about all of this. Maybe he should just “go with the flow” and let his pen “guide” him, or…something. This was the worst.]

                                             [Dear Wendy…                                                     He just…had to be confident. Yeah — no, he could…he could do this.]

                                                  DEAR WENDY

                                             I’ve always wanted to                                                    TELL, I FEEL                                               today’s the day I’ve                                                   got to tell you

                                                   I LIKE YOU.

                                                         Is that crazy?

                                             [It…certainly wasn’t the best, but it’d do. She’d — maybe she’d get the point, right? M-Maybe it was better to be himself or whatever, or…maybe it was a lost cause.]

                                                                   [Another sigh escaped from the brunet as he crumpled up the note, shoved it into his pocket, turned off the light, and flopped over onto his bed.]

[xaranoia]

dilfiisms replied to your post:goldensplxsh replied to your post:dilfiisms...

MY DAUGHTER

M-My crush?

[xaranoia]

goldensplxsh replied to your post:dilfiisms replied to your post:I LIKE YOU.*glares...

*protects dipper*

[ COWERS TBH ]

[xaranoia]

dilfiisms replied to your post:I LIKE YOU.

*glares at*

[xaranoia]

I LIKE YOU.

      [Dipper’s pen trembled in his grip as he stared down the blank sheet of paper before him; this was it. This would be the very medium of which he would use to confess to Wendy -- verbal confession wasn’t something he was too confident in, and he wasn’t sure how else he could do this without being awkward -- too awkward, anyway. It --            Well, it was a way of confessing without him having to immediately see her reaction or the repercussions of his letter. He wouldn’t have to witness her face likely scrunching up in disgust, nor her scoffing at him and mocking his crush on her -- o-or, maybe even...her lighting up and responding with an “I like you, too.” His heart pounded at the thought, unlikely as it was...]

           [Y-Yet, if it was unlikely, why was he even bothering? What was the point -- wh-what if she flat-out said no, and that she never wanted to be his friend again -- ?                    ...No, now wasn’t the time for concerning himself over such trifles -- she...she definitely wouldn’t refuse to be his friend, r-right? It was -- it was best to just be honest, finally get his feelings out and express them in a...healthy sort of manner, instead of bottling it up and being too timid to even approach her in conversation. Right? R-Right.]

                [...How did people write these again? How did they start these out -- w-was a greeting like “dear __” too formal? W-Was it alright in this sort of context, or should he just address her by name, o-or...ugh. Writing these was way more difficult than it seemed.                           “Dear Wendy”...was that okay? Would she think it was kind of lame? M-Maybe he should be a bit bolder with his greeting, and with his words -- sh-she’d like that, or something, right? G-Girls liked it when guys were bold and daring? No, if that was the case, th-then she never would’ve dated somebody like Robbie...]

                     [This was so frustrating. He couldn’t even get his feelings out in his thoughts -- yeah, he’d just...he’d just go with “Dear Wendy” for now. Dear Wendy...Dear Wendy...                                 What came next? An expression of his feelings, a description of their history together, and how he’d come to admire her and gradually develop feelings for her -- ? No, no, no, that...that was too boring. Maybe for a story, b-but not here -- not for confessing his feelings to a huge crush of his. He should...be straight to the point, or something -- bold. “I like you.”                                             N-No, just that on its own was too bland, too...undescriptive. It -- it could be misconstrued as him confessing that he felt they were best friends, and that was something that didn’t quite need confession. S-So...]

                           [Dear Wendy, I need to tell you something. Dear Wendy, would it be weird if I told you I liked you? Dear Wendy, do -- do you like me, maybe? Dear Wendy, I might...like you as more than a friend. Is that okay?                                      ...Ugh, none of those would do. How did anyone find it in themselves to write these darn things? You ended up worrying so much about the recipient’s reaction to your words that you couldn’t even get them out. Instinctively, Dipper began chewing on his pen --                                                   Dear Wendy, I hope you don’t think it’s weird that I like you. Dear Wendy, what if I told you I liked you? Dear Wendy, I -- I love you. Dear Wendy, I’ve been meaning to tell you, I -- I love you, I always have, and I hope you love me too. Dear Wendy, this is going to sound really lame and whatever, but -- I...really like you.]

                                  [SNAP!                                              The crackling explosion of Dipper’s pen, followed by the taste of ink he soon spat out in a direction adjacent from his still nearly blank letter, alerted him once more -- with a grumpy sigh, he set his pen aside and grabbed a spare. His pens always shattered when he chewed on them during his...heavier thinking sessions.                                                         Maybe he was just...thinking too hard about all of this. Maybe he should just “go with the flow” and let his pen “guide” him, or...something. This was the worst.]

                                             [Dear Wendy...                                                     He just...had to be confident. Yeah -- no, he could...he could do this.]

                                                  DEAR WENDY

                                             I’ve always wanted to                                                    TELL, I FEEL                                               today’s the day I’ve                                                   got to tell you

                                                   I LIKE YOU.

                                                         Is that crazy?

                                             [It...certainly wasn’t the best, but it’d do. She’d -- maybe she’d get the point, right? M-Maybe it was better to be himself or whatever, or...maybe it was a lost cause.]

                                                                   [Another sigh escaped from the brunet as he crumpled up the note, shoved it into his pocket, turned off the light, and flopped over onto his bed.]

[xaranoia]

dipper: hoe don't do it

mabel: grunkle stan, i trust you

dipper: oH MY GOD

[dontcallmetambers]

“April Fool’s prank. If you clicked a link on a certain website, this copy machine would pop up on the screen and start asking if it could help you out with stuff. It took people forever to finally figure out how to get rid of it.”

[xaranoia]

                   ◬-

                         O-Oh, right -- today’s April Fool’s day, isn’t it?                                          That...sounds like a pretty irritating prank. If that’s the case, though, then why are people still obsessing over it so much? Y-You’d think that they wouldn’t click on it, or that they’d just get rid of it, or something, right?

                                                    ŦŔŪŞŦ הø øה£

[xaranoia]

「tambry」:

“Don’t click on links unless you’re sure of where they lead you, Dipper Pines. Just don’t do it.”

                   ◬-

                          ...You don’t have to worry about that. I don’t ever trust random links or whatever, but...what does that have to do with the whole copier thing?

                                                    ŦŔŪŞŦ הø øה£

[xaranoia]

                   ◬-

                          So, uh...                                           What’s all this fuss about a copier?                                                    Please don’t tell me word got out about Grunkle Stan’s --

                                                    ŦŔŪŞŦ הø øה£

[xaranoia]

{ cosplay under the cut }

[xaranoia]

「pacifica」:

           ♕-

I… I’m fine, actually. I’ve been helping the people around town for a while too. I’m just a little worried since your family is even after the outskirts of town and I thought that… You know, just… Forget it. If you guys are fine, you’re fine.

                          [Had she said anything wrong now? After the party in her house not more than one night ago  her parents sure showed her just how many mistakes she had made that night. The blonde really didn’t feel like making any more of those, or, worse, dealing with its possible consequences.                                          She let out a breath and averted his gaze.]

                      Since you’re fine I guess I should… Go. I guess. If you don’t need me at all.

      [It wasn’t Pacifica that was bothering him, which made him feel the slightest bit guilty after she began attesting to how she’d been assisting others; he didn’t mean to brush her off, especially after how much he’d finally warmed up to her after her family’s party. Yet...               here he was, being an absolute jerk. He crossed his arms and sort of hugged himself, feeling incredibly insecure about talking to Pacifica.]

          [No matter how much he wanted to apologize, he couldn’t bring himself to -- he just didn’t want to interact with anyone, not after what he’d been through -- not after being betrayed by someone he’d put his trust in. Gradually, he brought his gaze back upwards to glance at Pacifica, who was now averting her own gaze. A wounded expression came across his features for the briefest of moments before he turned his head to the side again -- he wasn’t going to go into details or even chat with Pacifica now; he truly wished he could apologize or say something, but...he couldn’t handle the social interaction.]

                   ◬-

                          ...Good. That’s good, just -- I’m glad you’re helping people.                                            Sorry, I -- listen, Pacifica, I’ve -- I’ve gotta go. Important business, or...or something. Y-You understand, right...?

                                                    ŦŔŪŞŦ הø øה£

[xaranoia]

「pacifica」:

                                   ◤ She was truly glad Dipper didn’t want it to end,she guessed nor did Mabel and her friends. She was somewhat happy that they happened to be hear as well, she guessed that Mabel would want to be hear until the very end.

            The female never seen anything wrong with Dipper, he was always the one she wanted to TRY and get closer with, but she knew the  way she acted to Mabel that would never happen. But now she really could start a new couldn’t she? Not just with Dipper but Mabel as well.

                                                       she really was lucky wasn’t she?  ◢

       Well I was a jerk seeing as I wanted to impress parents who clearly don’t love me, you kinda had the right to be a jerk to me Dipper. Plus, I’ve been awful to Mabel, so you know another reason to do it, plus I don’t think I could be angry at you…

                    ◤ She smiled at the male looking down and nodded., taking his hand.◢

                                I’d really like that..

      [If he was being entirely honest, he was somewhat apprehensive about offering his hand and requesting to be friends, despite their bitter history -- after all, she might reject and scoff at him, in spite of how he was actually eager about the prospect. Sure, they’d spent a single night together and were now growing friendlier with each other, but...that didn’t guarantee she felt the same way entirely.]

            [His doubts were squandered when she smiled and took his hand --                      she’d enjoy being friends with him, as well, and that extra bit of reassurance brightened Dipper’s smile. He shouldn’t have been so worrisome; surely, she wouldn’t be telling him how she appreciated his company if he wasn’t someone she wanted to befriend, right?                                 Dipper wasn’t sure how to describe it; he was relieved, and genuinely glad she’d decided to take him up on his offer -- so many things had changed in one night, hadn’t they? And yet, he was really glad they’d occurred...because he could have another friend, someone else he could trust entirely and possibly even go on future adventures with!]

                   ◬-

                          Don’t worry about it -- we’re starting over, right? Friends!                                           I’m -- I’m really glad that we’re doing this. Tonight was actually way more fun than I thought it’d be; maybe tonight’s party really is the party of the century, huh?