When Soos appears with the rest of the townsfolk in the reconstructed Gravity Falls square, it looks as if Weirdmageddon has been contained with no casualties. As he sets out to the Mystery Shack in search of the Pines family, he discovers what the town–and he himself–has lost.
Missing scenes from the Gravity Falls finale. Spoilers, obviously.
Soos opened his eyes. He was falling—again, why had he spent so much time falling the past few days? He couldn’t exactly remember how he’d gotten there—he couldn’t move, and the world was shaded yellow, and he wanted to scream but his mouth was slack and—
He hit the ground heavily, knocking the air from his lungs and cracking his head on the smooth stone of the floor. Thuds and groans from beside him told him that he wasn’t alone. He turned his head muzzily and caught a glimpse of green flannel. So Wendy was here, and she was, well, as safe as him, whatever that meant. He hoped she was feeling more alert than he was. At this rate, he wasn’t going to be much help if they had to fight their way out.
Before he could get to his feet, he felt the building rumble beneath him and the blocks that formed the walls around him began to shake loose. Beams of light cut down from the ceiling, where what had been a smooth surface was suddenly fragmenting. He gasped and shielded his head with one arm, bracing himself for the blocks to fall.
When nothing seemed to happen, he peeked around his arm. The blocks were falling, but they were falling up.
Well, he thought, that was certainly … better than the alternative. Soos watched the blocks rise, the walls around him splintering as they tumbled into the Rift. Was this some new trick? Had Bill finally gained the power to destroy the world and released them to gloat? He looked around in a panic, but the triangle and his minions were nowhere to be seen. He caught a glimpse of Dipper and Mabel clutching at each other’s arms and looking as afraid as he was, and Stan, who had lost his fez and was facing away from them.
Soos stumbled as two blocks shifted beneath his feet. Had they won? Were they about to die? Both? When he looked down to steady himself he could see the barren plain that used to be the Gravity Falls forest far, far below him.
Have you been in such
dire straits that you would do just about anything to make some money? Some of
you might and some of you might not. Sadly, this situation presented itself to
Last year I was employed by a MNC (Multinational Company)
and was offered a contract position that was sadly not renewed at the end of
term. Fast forward a few months later and I still
haven’t found a job and with a family to support, finances were fast depleting.
I kept my chin up in front of the family but deep down I was
freaking out. Now, the beauty of growing up in South East Asia (Malaysia to be
exact) is that you will never be short of get-rich-quick schemes (mostly
illegal, some supernatural). Since I would like to stay out of jail, I opted
for the far riskier supernatural option. The scheme I opted for was selling
salt to the departed. The legend states that the departed souls use the salt to
stop the decomposition process and for that, they will pay the salt peddler
heard this tale since I was a young boy growing up with a Nyonya grandmother. She was always clear to emphasize the pantangs or taboos
that go with all her scary tales. I remembered her saying that the salt peddlers
would need to be at a graveyard at midnight and have enough salt (in packages)
to last him until daybreak. He must also wear a wide-brimmed hat to keep his face hidden and must have the fortitude to never look up.
She stressed that the peddler must
never look up no matter what happens. The dead will give payment in the
strangest of items in the graveyard and when the peddler left the graveyard in
the morning, the items will turn to money. Needless to say, she also made us
(her grandchildren) to promise her under pain of death to never attempt any of
the tales we’ve heard from her.
Back to our tale, I got to a graveyard a little ways out of
the capital and with my salt and wide brimmed hat in tow, found a clearing with
a tall tree and proceeded to sit down and start preparing my salt. As luck
would have it, there was a gentle breeze in the air that coupled with the
silence of the graveyard. Let’s just say my fortitude was tested.
I didn’t get to use your prompt but I hope you love it anyway. I’m so very happy to have met you and consider you one of my closest friends now and you’re just wonderful. ❤️
Tacky Christmas Drabble
Draco has no idea when it started. When asked, Harry claims Ron started it all and Weasley still fervently insists that it was all Harry’s doing. All Draco knows for sure is that a few years ago both of them decided it was their mission to wear the tackiest Christmas items they could find, as if it were a competition.
In the beginning Draco had thought it would be a fluke. At least until the next year when, on top of the ghastly sweaters Harry was now wearing all December, he added ridiculous elf and Santa hats.
The following year Harry apparently found muggle Christmas hats somewhere that sang a rather crude song about a Reindeer. Draco couldn’t decide if he was more horrified it existed or that Harry had purchased it.
Then just this last year he’d found some monstrosity of a hat shaped like a tree that actually lit up and played music. Harry thought it was funny to wear it Christmas shopping just to annoy Draco.
Every year both Harry and Weasley accumulated more and more ridiculously ugly jumpers and hats as if trying to outdo each other in sheer hideousness. Instead of dying down after a few years, their strange Christmas clothing rivalry seemed to simply intensify each year.
Last year, in a last ditch effort to try to return Harry to his normal clothing during the Holiday season Draco had spelled it all away in a fit of annoyance. In retaliation though Harry had insisted Draco wear one of the many new jumpers he’d gone out and bought the second he realized what Draco had done. The new ones were, if possible, twice as horrible as the previous ones. And he was rather disheartened to discovered he even found a replacement for the bawdy reindeer hat. When Draco had refused to wear one though, Harry had told him in no uncertain terms that if he didn’t wear a tacky Christmas jumper to Ron and Hermione’s Christmas party that night he wouldn’t be getting any sex for the rest of the month.
Draco wore the hideous jumper.
He had also learned his lesson and this year he made extra sure not to touch or insult any of Harry’s horrible Christmas things again.
Except as Draco stands in the doorway and watches Harry get dressed he can’t help but think that no matter whose fault it was originally, he is the only one suffering the consequences. Well him and Granger. He can’t even imagine what Weasley will be wearing to the party tonight.
“Harry, must you wear all of that at one time?” He asks, even though he knows the answer.
Draco watches with growing amusement as Harry looks down at himself. “Too much?”
“Well that depends on if you’re trying to win the award for worlds ugliest Christmas sweater. Where on earth did you get a jumper that horrible anyway?”
Rather that look insulted Harry looks immensely pleased by his comments. “Brilliant! I’m sure to beat Ron this year! Mrs. Weasley made it for me, only don’t tell Ron he might get a bit sore I asked her for help.”
Draco just snorts. He’s pretty sure Weasley will recognize his own mothers knitting a mile away, besides who else would make Harry a sweater that looks like Christmas threw up; covered in little father Christmases and gnomes in elf suits and what looks suspiciously like a dragon in a Santa hat. There are even tiny presents made of glittery yarn and when Harry turns around Draco has to cover his mouth to stop from laughing because the entire back is covered in a rather accurate depiction of Harry’s face but with a Santa Hat and a large white beard.
“I think the sweater is enough, Harry. Are you sure you need the giant Reindeer hat, and that strange necklace made out of plastic fairy lights?” Draco does his best to maintain an even tone, deciding now is definitely not the time to risk any sort of repeat of last year.
“I think it all adds to the look. Besides I’ve got a secret back up plan just in case Ron manages to top me this year.”
“Do I want to-”. But before Draco can get the rest of his question, Harry has dropped his pants and Draco’s mouth falls open because then Harry is standing there with his jeans around his ankles and wearing a very skimpy thong made of red satin with tiny bells. It leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination.
“Ah…I think you might give Weasley a heart attack,” Draco coughs out, and despite the fact that the underwear is ridiculous and tacky, his own cock gives a jump of approval at the sight.
Harry just gives Draco a crooked smile in response, reaching down to tug up his jeans when Draco stalks over and stops him, moving his hand down to cup Harry’s half hard cock with his hand, flicking the bells with his thumb.
“Don’t I get to play with my present first?” He whispers, leaning down and dragging his tongue across Harrys neck.
Harry’s loud, appreciative moan is all the permission he needs.
Maybe, Draco thinks, as he drops to his knees and nudges his face against Harry’ cock feeling the silk dampen as he mouths the material, the bells jingling softly, not all of Harry’s Christmas clothes are horrible.