leg-kick

You’ll regret it, Pine Tree.

Dipper flopped down onto the bed, groaning. Bill turned on the box fan, dialing it up to 3. It did little good, just blew hot air around. The ice cubes they had placed behind the fan were already melted. He threw himself onto the bed, laying across Dippers stomach.

“Ugh, Bill it’s too hot for that.” Dipper kicked his legs sluggishly in a feeble attempt to make the demon move.

Bill slid across the bed until he was next to Dipper, pushing his arm under the boys back so his hand was touching Dippers.

“It’s hotter than Satan’s bathroom in here.” Dipper turned his head, facing the fan.

“Actually-”

“Shut up Bill.”

Bill grinned, pressing his face into Dippers cheek. The sweaty boys lay like that, the breeze from the fan doing little but just enough to keep them cool. Barely.

Bill stared at Dipper until his breathing evened out, and a light snoring sound began. He carefully pulled his arm out, ever so slowly, from underneath Dipper. He sat up and slid down the bed until his feet touched the floor, standing up. He made his way down the stairs into the dark hallway that held Stanford and Stanleys rooms. He knocked on the wall next to Stanfords room gently, making sure nobody was inside, then quickly entered and locked the door behind him

The room was dark and musty.

“Kinda like Stans soul.” Bill chuckled to himself as he pulled a cardboard box out from under the bed. It had the word Keepsakes scribbled across one flap. Bill opened it and took out two heavy-duty water guns, empty for years. He closed up the box, put the guns under his arm, and left the room to go outside.

“Bill,” Mabel was sitting on the porch drinking sweet tea. “What are you doing?”

Bill kneeled into the dirt, turning on the hose and pushing it against the fill hole of one gun.

“Your brother’s hot.”

“Ugh, Bill that’s gross.”

“You know what I meant, Shooting Star. I’m gonna leave him a little note for when he wakes up.” Bill smirked. screwing the cap onto the gun and starting to fill the second one.

“Water gun war!” Mabel jumped up. “I wanna join!”

“There are only two guns, kid.” Bill turned off the hose and stood up.

“You say that like there’s no possibility of me having my own!” Mabel giggled, disappearing into the house.

Bill tiptoed up the stairs, setting the water gun at the end of the bed before flitting back outside, meeting Mabel in the yard.

“He’ll get the message when he wakes up.” Bill grinned.

“You mean this message?”

Bill turned around, only to be sprayed in the face by his little lover.

“Fight me, Cipher!” Dipper laughed. Bill tossed his gun to the ground, sweeping Pine Tree up under his arm and carrying him into the house.

“You’re gonna regret this, kid.” 

[kicks legs back and forth] a lot of my thoughts on various theory are oriented towards the pragmatic and the immediate and this limits me in some important ways and frees me in others

and no i don’t wanna discuss it/get into specifics i ain’t got the qualifications

in the meantime: wooooooo nightcrawler is hot

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