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#google gravity
crazerange · 8 months
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Do a Barrel Roll Twice - Two Times the Thrill
Google has established itself as an iconic search engine, web services provider, and technology innovator in the age of digital dominance. With its countless features and easter eggs over the years, Google has never ceased to amaze us and has improved the quality of our online interactions. The “Google Do a Barrel Roll” feature is one such entertaining yet intriguing easter egg that has garnered…
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virtkha · 2 months
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billiams
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leggywormy · 2 years
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Asking google how to do a thing with ADHD:
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one-chaotic-neautral · 2 months
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okay but WHAT DO YOU MEAN GRAVITY FALLS AND WELCOME TO NIGHTVALE PREMIERED BOTH ON THE EXACT SAME DATE, 15TH JUNE 2012
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pill-ciphore · 6 months
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this image I found immediately on google images. who drew this. I need to know
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astro-b-o-y-d · 23 days
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And just like that, the poster for chapter 3 is done. Not my absolute favorite of the ones I've done so far, but it still turned out pretty good~!
This specific chapter will drop next Saturday (Feb 16th). In the meantime, why not go get caught up on the first few chapters of Triangulum if you haven't yet?
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ypipie · 1 year
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average morning in the mystery shack, one summer later
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shaggys-secret-stash · 10 months
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Yknow, when I see fan art of Dipper and Mable when they are older, Dipper is always drawn slightly feminine-
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Like, dont get me wrong I like this design! But I was thinking, all of the men in the Pines family are very masculine men. And they all have the big square jawline. We see this in Filbrick, Stanford, and Stanley-
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My point is, this trait seems to run in the family and I'd like to see Dipper with the Pines' family MegaChin™
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ravioliet · 11 months
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so i was thinking and i had a realization
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thiswasmadeonawhim · 1 month
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Tsukino Productions Product Tracker
Yeah so i'm nuts and made myself a chronological release tracker for Tsukipro products cause I needed a way to keep track of everything i own/plan to get. A small preview inside:
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Link below the cut!
I plan on keeping this updated month to month as a way to get myself back into the habit of being hardcore into the Tsukipro life. With the additional effect of making me happy if anyone found this useful in any way shape or form. All the titles are copied straight from the main sites so also easy to copy paste those into album info or anything needed.
This includes album releases, Blu ray/DVD releases, anything really that's a form of media to buy and consume.
The only shame is that the images had to be embedded in so no way to link to high-res cover art for anything. I didn't wanna add too many links to this page to make it hard to load either so it's really the most bare min I could get it.
If there's any products I missed in here, feel free to hit me up in DMs or via asks
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legobiwan · 2 months
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Guess who has shown up to the Gravity Falls fandom almost a decade late, cold, sludgy coffee in hand?
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wonderful-emoji · 1 year
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oh POG let's have some mystery shack emojis if you don't mind queen
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revols-headcanons · 1 year
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dipper and mabel: piedmont life
also this is borderline a fanfic but i have no motivation or peer pressure to actually write one. also warning there are OC’s in this post. this is potentially part 1 of a series?
both of them are autistic but in different ways. dipper is a “i am so insecure of my place in the world that I can immediately notice when there’s a dip in a conversation because of me” who would rather be alone then face social rejection. mabel is a “i think im really good with people because i am so unaware of social cues that i think everyone is being nice to me” who learned how to tell fake vs true niceness.
neither of them were diagnosed as kids, and how they both figured out was due to mabel helping the disabled classroom at her school and noticing similar habits and thought process from them. then dipper did research and they were like “oh okay that makes sense.”
in their sophomore year of high school, they both had identity crisis’ but in different ways: dipper became an overly cocky ‘too cool for anyone’ loner while mabel had a raging emo phase. both of them became deeply embarrassed of those phases the second they got out of them.
in their 8th grade english class, they did a duo project where they explained their entire summer (the prompt was to tell a fantasy three act story). dipper did the reading while mabel did the visuals (aka one of those pop up books but bigger and with her sound effects). their teacher asked them where their vivid imaginations came from and they told some excuse about being bored all summer.
their parents (who i am naming ingrid and robert) are (rightfully) pissed and confused when their kids start showing major symptoms of ptsd and depression. stan has literally no excuse for it and the twins keep dodging the questions.
ingrid is a anxious, stuck up mother who prioritizes education while robert is the relaxed father who expects the world but refuses to give help or support. let’s just say the twins don’t stay home as much. especially after the disaster the first week at home was when the twins brought waddles home.
after the summer, mabel gets into the trivia club and also tries out the science/engineering/robotics club (she also plays soccer, golf, and volleyball). her arts and crafts skills become incredibly useful when making a wooden structure with the purpose of finding the exact angle and falling distance for a marble. meanwhile dipper decides to try out for both track and football (he’s also in photography club and the school newspaper). dipper is the weakest member on the football team, but he’s the quickest runningback they’ve ever had, so the team doesn’t bully him too much for it. he’s consistently in the top 5 for his school during track.
mabel’s first high school friend is a black girl in her robotics club named aubrey. aubrey has adhd and has basically the same hobbies as mabel (i.e: karaoke, shopping, dancing, art). her second friend she meets at theater auditions (for the school musical, into the woods) where mabel watches her do a 10/10 audition performance and compliments her. she is south asian and named kamini, and her interests consist of theater, soccer, and english. her third friend ends up being the emo loner boy that she talks to on the first day. he’s latino and his name is dante. his hobbies consist of skateboarding, karaoke, and video games.
dipper’s first friend ends up being the younger brother of the football team captain, which is what makes the team stop bullying him. his friend is this kind of egotistical, yet himbo nerd of a dude named ethan— who’s a white boy with blond hair and freckles. ethan is interested in soccer and track as well as trivia, and they met during orientation week when they were the only two kids being ignored for the track club. dipper’s second friend comes from his ap english class, where he watched them cuss out someone for trying to harass a girl in the class. they’re asian and non binary and they go by paine. they like chess, english, and dnd, which is why dipper gets along with them so well.
dipper is able to convince ethan and paine to start a dnd session together, with dipper as dungeon master.
mabel eventually forces dipper into joining the program and dipper agrees to be backstage crew. it works out fine until they realize that their play has an unusually low tryout for men so mabel begs him to tryout for a lead role. he gets it because the programs desperate. he ends up playing either percy or grover in the lightning thief, and mabel gets casted as clarisse/katie/etc.
mabel loves taylor swift (specifically red, 1989, and lover) and also doja cat. she dabbles in ariana grande and marina from time to time as well. dipper has nightmares when he hears mabel, aubrey, and dante singing karaoke for first time.
dipper listens to cavetown and mitski mainly before paine and ethan lightly bully him into listening to the arctic monkeys and gorillaz. he creates aesthetic playlists for when he’s monster/creature hunting. neither of his friends believe him when he describes super natural things until (on two separate occasions) he shows them videos of gravity falls shenanigans and when they run into anomalies in piedmont.
mabel ends up getting a crush on ethan and then dipper has that tragic disaster to deal with.
dipper gets a minor crush on kamini before he learns that she views him as this cute little thing to watch but not dateable.
due to dipper’s boost in confidence, girls notice him and try to ask him out. he gets really flustered and confused, especially when girls who bullied him suddenly want to be with him. he rejects them all.
mabel realizes she’s bisexual when she gets a crush on aubrey and has a mental breakdown about it. she confesses, aubrey says that she doesn’t like the concept of dating at all, mabel takes the rejection decently, and they continue being the best of friends.
mabel gets jokingly asked out by a football boy and then dipper gets so pissed off he punches the dude in the face (mabel had no time to react, because if she did, she would’ve also joined the fight). a fist fight ensues, they both get suspended, and no one messes with mabel ever again.
mabel ends up befriending nearly everyone due to how kind and considerate she is. even girls who hated her from middle school soften because of her. she is a god.
most people are neutral towards dipper due to how he doesn’t really initiate social interactions, but that’s how he likes it.
dipper is an avid buzzfeed unsolved fan while mabel watches danny gonzales, drew goodman, etc.
dipper is trans. he realized he was trans when he was like 8, and he’s been a boy since. he was mainly bullied for being trans, but ever since he got confident, learned how to kick ass, and started taking testosterone, people have left him alone. also his name ‘mason,’ he specifically chose to appease his parents (who wanted two twins with ‘m’ starting names that had 5 letters each), but he goes by dipper because that’s the name he would’ve actually chosen.
the twins have separate rooms at their parents house, but they keep accidentally passing out on each other’s floors (or on mabel’s beanbag, or at dipper’s desk). their parents ask why all of a sudden and the twins say they just got closer over the summer. they would never admit it’s because sleeping in the same room as someone who experienced the same trauma is relieving.
mabel constantly calls grenda and candy, reassuring them that while she also loves aubrey and kamini, that her gravity falls friends will always be her favorites.
robert’s favorite child is mabel because, although he has unfair expectations of them, he gives mabel excuses because she’s more art and people focused, while he’s overly harsh on dipper. ingrid’s favorite is dipper because he also likes puzzles, board games, and higher education, while she looks down upon mabel for being childish and irresponsible.
dipper refuses to give any explanation for having wendy’s hat instead of a normal cap. theories range from ‘he has a girlfriend’ to ‘he murdered a man for it.’ he also cried when a bully threw it in the trash once.
the twins have a bet for whoever becomes the tallest by the time they enter the mystery shack the next summer: whoever’s taller gets to pawn their summer chores off onto the other one for the whole summer. mabel gets at least 8 hours of sleep a night to help herself (though her diet is wack) while dipper eats a lot of height-growing food items to help himself (though he’s never had a consistent sleep schedule in his life).
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sparklehounds · 2 years
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bonus fiddleford from my phone i never posted
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o-lord-heal-this-bike · 7 months
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aziraphale and ford would be friends yes. But NOW imagine aziraphale introducing ford to crowley.
"No, Stanford, those are simply what his eyes look like. Really, it's nothing to worry about."
".....Are you sure."
I’m sorry.
we open to a large panning shot of aziraphale's bookshop. it is a normal sunny day, if not a little bit cloudy. there are two cars parked in the street—a bentley, and an el diablo. they are parked as close as they can be to the bookshop, but simultaneously as far apart from each other as possible. it's quiet—a little too quiet. we seem to stay outside for a little too long before we enter—and find a certain scientist backed up against a bookshelf.
there are three other people present. one; the demon who is currently standing opposite of him and not confused at all at what is occurring. he stands loose, tall, and as non-threatening as a crowley can be. regardless, stanford presses himself against the bookshop so hard that he is tilting it. his gun, which was strapped by his side a moment ago, has vanished. he hasn't noticed yet.
stanford's brother is not being pressed against a bookshelf, but is standing as close as possible to him, scowling with extreme prejudice. they could not look any more similar yet different at the same time. he reaches for his pocket, which usually has a pair of knuckles, is empty. this makes it worse.
as for the angel, he is standing between the three as if unsure who's side he should be on. he wrings his hands, eyes darting from side to side and wondering who is going to snap first. automatically, he's inclined to stand by crowley, to insist that he is in fact not a demon sent from hell to cause unrest within humanity. but aziraphale knows he can't play that angle—stanford knew things. things that even aziraphale could not understand, and that was how they got here today. the shop remains silent—no one is breathing, not even the beings who need it.
aziraphale realizes, belatedly, that the only reason why their staring contest hasn't ended is because stanford is staring with a little too much blank fear. he doesn't seem to be looking at crowley—only his eyes, if that made sense. unblinking, unseeing, and maybe a little quavering too. stanley, who seemed to quite like crowley when they first ever crossed paths, wears similar body language. scowling—but at his eyes. not crowley. almost like they are afraid of what hides behind him, and not himself.
oh. aziraphale gets it now—it was why these brothers were in soho in the first place. but after all aziraphale has told, after all that stanford has said, why would crowley be the thing to faze them? if they wanted to capture crowley, maybe study him and his surely 'anomalous' origins, that would be understandable. but no—the brothers look afraid.
"anomulous energy," stanford had said, well into his first (and definitely not the last) time he visited a. z. fell and co. "last august, if you didn't know, the world was... acting up, if you'd like to be frank."
"oh?" aziraphale says, trying his very best not to stop sorting at this very moment and usher the man out before he trusted himself into their strange little world. aziraphale has been growing to quite like stanford, so far—he would hate it if he was forced to... learn. learn the truth and have his entire existence be dictated by it. unmovable, before he ever knew... "that sounds quite interesting. how does one define 'acting up'?"
"yes... quite." stanford follows aziraphale to the back of the bookshop as he sorts, distantly hovering as he explains. "strange things on the news. krakens, lemon candies, whaling ships going down at sea. that sort."
aziraphale knew of adam's escapades before they found him at the end of the world. the magazines piled in anathema's home, and the figurines in adam's room he'd seen one time when he'd been forced to hide from the child's parents. yes, very interesting. too close for comfort.
"oh, dear," aziraphale says, shaking away the alarming thought he had just now. "haven't heard the faintest thing about it, if you're going to ask. could they have just been... local hoaxes? those can be realistic."
stanford scoffs. “my local hoaxes are of a different caliber than this. this goes worldwide.”
aziraphale suppresses the growing terror. he's never had a human question about this before—it was always heaven, always a lowly angel sent when no one wanted to face the principality immune to hellfire. he reasons that stanford could only know so much—what adam left in the world. and so what if he left a kraken? that was only the tip of the armageddon iceberg.
"and that's the thing, mr. fell." though aziraphale introduced himself with his actual name, stanford insists on calling him mr. fell. "no one remembers it. i've asked around, and everyone believes i'm mad. look here—“
at the time, these seven polaroids sent fear through aziraphale's heart. they had sat in the backroom for this, stanford taking the tiny stack out from his blue hoodie, worn by age. his six fingers stick out, as they always do—differences in humans' very selves was always a nice sight to aziraphale. he lays them out on the desk, side by side.
"my grand-niece took these photos," stanford says triumphantly. "well, she wasn't there, but she did pour over the news just in case things turned wonky. me and my brother couldn't come here personally at the time, as we had promised to stay in—“ he pauses, gathering his wits before he lets slip whatever he thought was worthy of keeping a secret. "—with our family, and we're lucky that we did, because it seems that everyone outside of us simply forgot about it. we got lucky."
aziraphale puts on his glasses, bringing one specific polaroid up to his face for closer examination. a wall of fire—burning so brightly that half of the shot was a brilliant white, while everything else were small specs in the blaze. three things stick out to the angel—one, the little shimmers indicating that this was indeed a shot of a tv screen. two—a neon painted finger, calloused and decorated with rings pointing at a patchy black blob in the mess. three—that patchy black blob with a demon sitting inside it. very blurry, sure, but there.
they had a picture.
"ah."
"yes, very odd," stanford says, an excited edge seeping into his words. "it goes even deeper than this. have you ever heard of a small town called tadfield?"
did he know about tadfield. yes, he knew about tadfield. he had bi-monthly tea times at tadfield. he was called there whenever one needed advice on personal matters, or how oysters were made back in ancient rome for history projects. yes, aziraphale knew of that village. too much about that village.
aziraphale puts the polaroid back down, setting it neatly before stanford says whatever he has to next. his mind going far too fast—who to tell, when to tell, what to hide, what to let slip, how did this human know? there was no way. no possible, conceivable way that there was anything past the domain of heaven and hell and good and evil.
"yes, i know of tadfield. i visit, sometimes. what do you know about it?"
if had been anywhere or been about anything else, aziraphale wouldn’t employ a miracle to guarantee an answer. every human kept secrets—they just weren’t always relevant. aziraphale suspects that they are here. it also wouldn’t hurt to relax the human—he looked far too wound up.
"well, i've been tracing all of these phenomena, and they all seem to originate there." stanford gestures to the first photo in the lineup—a map, with two masses of land side by side with pink blobs a top of it. one aziraphale recognizes—london—and another, somewhere in northwest of america. america! (well, that explained the accent.) "the aura is so huge that it's just as large as gravity falls, which i've never seen before! and it's only been established recently, maybe a decade at best, and it can already rival the weirdness magnet. i intend on getting to the bottom of it."
stanford references places and words aziraphale does not know, but they are helpful to gage. adam, that must be who he's referring to. even after his renouncing, traces of the past lingered with him. who knew what rubbed off of the town itself—that was logical. sadly logical.
almost as an afterthought, stanford says, "i've been through this before, you know."
aziraphale shakes himself out of his thinking stupor. "how so?"
"it was a long time ago," he says, a little wistfully. "it occurred in august, too. almost seven years to the dot. you may not believe me—most people don't—but the world ended. very jarringly.”
oh.
oh.
"really?" aziraphale says mildly. "that sounds like quite the affair."
"yes, it was," stanford replies. "an inevitable end, according to prophecy. a finicky art, but accurate when you get there. it was essentially armageddon, with the whole...everything. i'd explain how it ended, but we would be here for days."
aziraphale stays quiet. the miracle weakens, so abruptly that it cant be anything else but sheer force of will. another thing of note—those types of humans were far and few between.
"I don't know why i just told you that," stanford says plainly, "but it is true. i don't expect you to trust me, or even believe me." he adds that as an afterthought, which is quite useless because aziraphale whole-heartedly would believe him even if miracles weren't being put at work. "but i would like people to take it seriously. we can't be having a repeat. it may not be of the same caliber, but it's enough to worry about. your shop is right in the middle of the second largest aura, and it being so close... it's best to be prepared. we have it under control."
"certainly."
stanford looks back down at the photos. carefully, he takes the side by side maps into his hands to look at more closely. "you wouldn't happen to know about anything else weird happening in soho, perhaps?"
aziraphale blinks. then he coughs, violently enough to where he can get away with scooting as far away from the man as possible without being rude. "no! no, not at all. as normal and non-ethereal as one can be! i can't help you there, i'm afraid, but i'd love to hear about your progress. another time. when things are sorted. i'd be happy to listen then!"
he rounds it out with a nervous laugh, which subsides into more of a giggle. when had the shop been so hot? he'd be so confidence before. he'd have to ask crowley. he seemed to know more about corperations than he did.
oh, crowley.
"well." stanford frowns, eyebrows pinched in worry at the display before him. "if you ever notice strange activity, come around the river thames. that's where me and my brother's boat are residing, currently. we'll be staying for a while."
aziraphale nods, a little too quickly to be casual. "yes, i'll keep that in mind. good luck with your investigation, stanford. you'll need it. and don't be afraid to come by for any other reason—“
"—as long as it's not to buy a book. i won't, i promise."
aziraphale coughs again, but this time stanford clocks it as one of surprise. he looks up into two brown eyes—they'd be around the same age, if aziraphale were human. to stanford, they were on the same level. oddly, it gives him comfort.
"you're not very subtle, mr. fell," stanford says, but he doesn't sound disappointed at all. in fact, he sounds delighted. "if you don't want anyone purchasing your books, i'd suggest shifting into more of an archival position. you'd have an excuse to hoard, for one. that's what i'd do."
and without much more goodbye other than that, stanford exists the bookshop. aziraphale closes behind him, peering out the window for as far as he can see stanford walk away. he seems relaxed—happy. he takes out a book, a pen from his pocket, and starts writing whilst crossing the busy street. he glances back to the shop—aziraphale snaps the window shut before he can notice.
oh, he was going to have to tell crowley about this. aziraphale doesn't think stanford is malicious in his intent—actually, it seemed to be the opposite—but this would not do.
that will not be a fun discussion.
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"so how much longer are you going to goggle at me? we have places to be, you know!"
stanley's expressions grows darker at this insistence from crowley. it feels as if it's been an eternity since they first ended up here, staring and thinking and whatever else was going on the humans' brains. bluntly, he says, "what are you? give specifics."
aziraphale frowns, but doesn't try to correct him. stanford doesn't comment, remaining as still as his body allows him to be. stanley has a hand on his shoulder, as if to ground them, not just himself.
"oh, thank you for being subtle, that's very kind of you," crowley grumbles. he shrugs. "what do you think i am?"
"too close to a demon for comfort," stanley snaps back. "or a certain one. whatever you are. are you the demon, or is the demon inside you and this is some human you're using to get around? there's an important difference."
this elicits something in crowley. he glances, almost imperceptive, at aziraphale. he can hear the question loudly: can I?
aziraphale replies: as much as you'd like to.
crowley smirks. now, he seems completely at ease. "that was a good guess. first try, too! though, whatever demon you're thinking of probably isn't the one i am. i don't possess people."
"wait." stanford finally seems to be snapping out of his fear, thank god. “you're the demon. you, yourself, not anything controlling you—you? this is what you look like?"
his voice is shaking, only a touch. he's determined, though, to hear the answer. crowley replies plainly, if not a little confused. "'course it is. on earth, and hell sometimes. maybe i'd look a little different on a different plane or something, but. that's how it is."
"hell?" now stanley is the one who is bemused. "hold on. you're an actual demon? honest to god hellish demon?"
crowley rolls his eyes. "yes, actual demon! what else did you think i was? you guessed already!"
"i thought we were talking the—figurative kind! so you're—jesus, we're so—“
"ignorant to think that he returned for a moment?" stanford interjects, in a near daze. "yes, we are."
as one, they let out a relieving huff. they're still on edge, as that feeling would not dissipate immediately even with miracles, but they're relaxing. again, if it were any other human, aziraphale would be surprised. now, this was to be expected.
"but then what's with the eyes?" stanley asks abruptly.
aziraphale grimaces, but crowley answers patiently. "they're snake eyes, human. y'know, classic demon features. it's how you know."
the brothers look shocked, like they never considered this possibility. aziraphale couldn't fault them—the few times someone caught a glimpse of crowley, they assumed the same thing. it was just a human tendency.
but, stanford does not yet look completely convinced. aziraphale rushes at the opportunity to speak on crowley's behalf. "he's right, stanford. those are simply what his eyes look like. really, it's nothing to worry about."
stanford, slowly but surely, starts letting up the bookshelf pressing. his expression remains guarded. his eyes are only for aziraphale. "are you sure?"
"yes, i'm sure! i've known him since the day the world began, i'd know what his eyes look like. nothing to fret, I’m telling you. crowley, tell the man you won't hurt him."
crowley looks amused by this. "i really won't. i'm not into that these days. more mischief like things, y'know. that's hastur's thing."
he doesn't add onto that surely alarming thought. aziraphale sighs. "that's the best you're going to get out of him. now, shall we talk about this over some tea? if you promise not to apprehend him for his anomalous charms?"
the brothers lock eyes, communicating in a way that aziraphale and crowley have done many times before. they aren't as subtle about it, though—obvious nudging, clear side-eyeing, they seem to be used to that. they haven't had an Above and Below watch their every move, though, so it could be excused. whatever got them to not run out of the shop screaming.
"can i help?" stanley asks quietly, and it would sound innocent, if it wasn't said looking directly at crowley. or if stanley looked to be the type of genuinely drink tea. aziraphale suspects that they, like crowley, only really drink the stuff to be kind.
"sure," aziraphale says, now deciding to actively put himself between them and crowley. "would you mind brewing the water? i can find the leaves."
"easy enough."
and without a word, aziraphale leads stanley away from the foyer. he grimaces, but follows without complaint. this leaves stanford alone with crowley, but this time, stanford is prepared.
crowley puts his glasses back on, which was unfortunately yanked off him right before this unfortunate stand down. stanford remains where he stands, and asks, "you said your name was...?"
"eh. lot's of name i've got." crowley flits his hand lazily. now that his glasses are back on, stanford appears much more relaxed. "'crowley' is the one they use the most. have you read about me in one of your special books?"
stanford tenses, but doesn't step away. that name is bound to be familiar. "no, no, you just... remind me of someone. that's all. you don't act like him, or look like him, or... whatever. you're not him. i can see that now."
crowley nods, and doesn't push the thought further. he draps himself on the nearest arm chair, not bothering to change how he'd sit if someone else were in the shop. not like it mattered whether or not he looked 'respectable'. "alright, then. shall we wait for tea, then?"
"yes, we should," stanford says, sitting on the armchair across from him. "i hope stanley is being kind. he's never met any other demons but... you know. i have, its just—you looked similar. that's all."
"apology accepted. i feel bad for you."
"don't be too sympathetic. if stanley feels threatened, he won't hesitate to try something. hopefully mr. fell is... also being nice. that would help."
crowley snickers at ‘mr. fell’. "please. if either one of them won that fight, it'd be the angel, and not just 'cause of the power imbalance."
the horror on stanford's face flashes suddenly. "he's an angel?"
crowley grins. oh, this was going to be a fun time.
—————
OKAY YES I WROTE A WHOLE ASS ONESHOT IN THREE HOURS. OKAY? GET OFF MY BACK. This ask sparked something in me, okay? I might actually polish it up and put it on ao3. I really like it, and don’t really care if it’s good or not. i just like thinking about them. my four blorbos… sorry if aziraphale or crowley sound off, this IS a first draft, and I need to learn how to write them. a loose character study, I suppose. also first draftness. that too.
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bi-functional · 1 year
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“He seems to be partaking in human rituals with the second star.”
With his good arm, Dipper quickly searches around for his phone and finds it still neatly packed into a pocket on his cargo pants.
When he clicks it back to life, he finds a plethora of pictures from Mabel. Upon further inspection, they’re all various selfie’s of her and Bill in various stages of a self care night. Ranging from face masks to nail polish and movie marathons.
Mabel still has tears in some photos, but it’s clear that she’s feeling better with every goofy pic that’s sent along, and it’s that small reassurance that has Dipper’s frustration coiling tightly right next to the warmth that blooms in his chest.
When you just rescued your mortal boyfriend who refuses to admit he’s your boyfriend from being a human sacrifice cause he’s always in the wrong place at the right time but he has the self preservation of a sad ant and cares more about his sister being upset than his own injuries (which are substantial) so you take it upon yourself to cheer her up so that he can focus on Not being broken smh cause having a broken mortal boyfriend is not fun at all and sounds like a lot of work.
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