Dipper smiled as Pacifica came over and sat down with him on the couch. They immediately wrapped arms around each other and started settling in. It was going to be a good evening. Just him and her, a good movie and some snacks later. No need to worry about anything. No monsters or dumb chores or strict fathers.
“Love you Dipper.”, Pacifica smiled and nuzzles his shoulder.
“Love you too Pacifica-AAaoowh!“, Dipper groaned as suddenly 150 pounds of fat and pork jumped up on his lap. “Ow! Waddles! Get off!”
Waddles, blatantly ignoring the both of them, sniffled at Pacifica and then settled himself down between them, literally pushing them apart so he could have space and causing them to have to uncomfortably bend around him to be close. Dipper sighed, clearly agitated, while Pacifica was trying not to laugh.
“….Well.. At least he likes you now…”, Dipper said bitterly.
“..Should we sit somewhere else?”
“No, he’ll just follow us.”, Dipper rolled his eyes and got up. “Hang on a second. MABEL! WADDLES?”
“Waddles! Com’ere!”, Mabel unhelpfully called from another room. Dipper rolled his eyes and stormed out, following after her voice.
“Um, think you might wanna COME GET HIM?”, he called out.
“WOULD YOU STOP SMOOCHING YOUR DATE SO I COULD WITH MINE?”
Pacifica laughed, listening to them and shook her head. Waddles settled more onto her lap, but she had become used to it.
“….I can’t tell if he’s more jealous or you..”, she told the pig, idly petting him.
The lovely @squeakowl offered to let her first smutty one-shot be featured on this blog so here it is! It’s also on Ao3 if you’d prefer to read it there and to get give this lovely writer some kudos
“Hey Cat!” Maggie’s drawl broke the silence, and Catherine Baker dropped the feather she had been trying for the last ten minutes to affix to the shaft of one of her arrows. The feather was warped, and she didn’t have enough glue, so she very much needed to make the repair work. But some other time, because it was starting to irritate her, and her work always got sloppy if she got frustrated. She couldn’t afford sloppy when her arrows were all that stood between her and starvation. Or being walker chow.
With a sigh she picked it up off her lap and set it aside for the moment. “What, Maggie?” Cat tried to keep her annoyance out of her voice.
“T-Dog found a little lake in the woods, and it looks like it’s thawed. Cold as hell, but safe. We’re all gonna go in pairs so we can get clean. You coming?” Cat was immediately on her feet. It had been a long, uncommonly cold winter, which, despite the fortuitous fact that cold seemed to slow walkers down, had resulted in most of the group being reluctant to strip down and partake in any sort of bathing. Consequently, they all smelled almost as bad as the walkers. You got used to it, though.
“Definitely, I’ll put all this away and meet you by the cars?” Maggie nodded and disappeared out the tent flap. Shortly after, Cat wandered out of the woods and into the clearing with the cars, with her quiver, bow, and knapsack stuffed with relatively clean clothing, some towels, and a bar of soap. Her dark curls where clipped back, framing her pale face.
I thought of a Bill headcanon last night in which Bill has been around for so long and therefore he’d suddenly use words or phrases from different time periods that he still likes. i.e.: “Wow Kid! This place really is the cat’s pajamas!” or “Don’t sell me a dog pine tree! I know what you’ve been up to!”
driving up the coast in your old jeep, your dogs are in the backseat and
she’s beside you, eyes sparkling. hiking along the coastline, stopping
to take photos of her sun-kissed skin against the rugged scenery. the
way she loves your dogs as much as you do makes your heart full. she
holds you close in the tent, and her hair smells like pine trees and
campfire, your dogs linger at her feet when she offers you a tin mug of
coffee in the morning, and everything is right.