5. A kiss that was never given (DDDDDDDUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDEEEE)
In another life this wouldn’t be happening.
Fiddleford couldn’t help but cling to that thought as he stuffed this things frantically into a suitcase. His heart was still pounding loudly out of fear of what he just witnessed beyond the portal he had helped build the nightmares that would spring up every time he closed his eyes.
That eye, the darkness, that monster. He slammed the suitcase shut loudly to try and pull himself away from the memories. As soon as he got out of this cursed house he was-
A hand on his shoulder made the man jump and spin around fast.
“Get off me!”
“Fiddleford please,” Stanford said, eyes hidden behind the reflection of his glasses. It only made this whole thing unsettling. “I’m sorry for what I said down there.”
“Y-you…You what?” Fiddleford stared at his ex-partner confused. He could have sworn he heard the stubborn headed man say he didn’t need him for the rest of the project. That Ford was done with him and ready to take this on alone with whatever demon was behind that machine.
“I’m sorry,” Ford took a small step closer to him, hands held out to show no malice. “Whatever is beyond that portal really scared you and I didn’t listen.”
Fidds did nothing to stop the man from moving forward until they were standing toe to toe. Fidds staring at his friend and partner with confusion; he knew somewhere in the back of his mind he should be scared of the close proximity and the lighting hiding his friend’s eyes but he just felt calm.
“No,” he said, “You didn’.”
“But I am willing to listen now,” Ford insisted, “What did you see?”
“I-,” Fiddleford started to explain but found the thoughts of the darkness and the eyes missing. He caught faint glimpses of the terror before it was blurred from his mind’s reach. “I don’t quiet recall.”
Fiddleford looked down at his right hand now feeling it was heavy and found the memory gun clutched tightly in it. How long had he been holding that?
Ford didn’t seem to notice it, the man gently reaching and stroking Fidds’ cheek.
“It is alright,” Ford said with a heavy sigh, “You don’t need to think of it now.”
“Stanford,” Fiddleford said, the name sounding weird on his tongue suddenly. Who was they man again? Why was the touch so soothing to a fear he couldn’t remember? What was he holding in his hands? Where was he?
Fiddleford let his head be tilted up and a kiss be gently placed on his lips. It was soft yet rough from the stubble on the man. It felt right yet wrong, like it didn’t belong in this situation. A tear escaped Fidds’ eye and streamed down his cheek as the man began to move away from him.
McGucket woke up in his bed, tears streaming down his face. The last few days had been rough for the old man since he had been found outside the museum in a daze. He had only just remembered his name yesterday and now this dream.
Who was that man and why did that dream hurt him so much?
a match-stick boat, the size of a palm leaf floats around, aimlessly, in a nature made pool, created when a dog stood on the muddy banks of a little creek that runs at the back of her house. I had been standing under the canopy of the trees blending, vacantly, into the background. She says, very convincingly “everything is great”! whilst hiding pieces of a broken pedestal behind her back. her eyes dart around, land on the boat, back to me, back to the boat. heart-time spent listening to an enchantress sister twine a string around a hook to pulverize a true side to an honest sailor. in another version of the scene, she is holding onto one oar and I promised to valiantly play the part of the boatswain, but, there is too much damage here, she wants our battle-scars to match when they do not. in this scene, we watch the little boat be swept away with a sudden onset of rain.
Dipper Pines was almost everything that Pacifica would have said no to if you had asked her what she was looking for in a boyfriend. He was quirky, sweaty, and just plain weird. Plus the one thing her parents would never approve of which was his family. A con man, a weird twin, and the basement uncle who seemed to get very confused at the smallest of things about this century plus they weren’t rich.
But Dipper was also kind and he stood up for himself against her words. He was brave and risked everything for the people he cared about. He also was funny in his weird sort of way. He had grown to be her friend, a friend that would actually question why she would say or do something instead of just letting her do it.
Which is why when the thought popped into her head to kiss him she stood frozen on the lake side, staring at the sunset they had been watching freaking out internally. Could she ruin one of the first honest friendships she had gained because of a dumb crush that had decided to hit her in the face just now?
Slowly, she let her eyes move down to their hands. Pacifica hadn’t even noticed that his hand was over hers as they sat on the bench. It only made her cheeks brighten to match the pink in the sky.
Come on, Pacifica, she said to herself in her head, You are a Northwest. It doesn’t mean much but it does mean that you aren’t scared of a silly kiss on the cheek. You can do this.
Pacifica’s face changed into a look of determination as she turned her head. Se didn’t hear Dipper give a huff of breath as well or see him move until their lips were touching. Both of their eyes widened and their faces turned red as they pulled away fast.
“Oh my gosh!” Dipper cried, losing balance and falling off the bench. “I-I, you… I didn’t mean to…”
Pacifica stayed frozen, still feeling the press of that short kiss on her lips. She had just kissed Dipper pines ON THE MOUTH. That had not been the plan, but she didn’t seem to really mind it.
“Pacifica, I really,” Dipper said, slowly standing up, “I was trying to kiss the cheek real quick I didn’t mean to- oh!”
Pacifica reached up fast, new found confidence fueling her as she yanked down on his shirt to bring their mouths together again.