Almost Finished With My VTuber Model! I Just Need To Do Hair, Accessories, And Ears. I’ll Post A Picture

She's an icon

Urgent update my little brother is dying 😭

Today we took our little brother to the hospital because he suffers from an infection that affects his breathing and causes him pain. I hope that every living conscience will help us save our young son’s life and donate any amount you can.

Unfortunately, there is no treatment in the hospital for my little. Help us before it is too late.

I went to a concert! This is my 3rd, but my first with under 200 people. There were 3 bands. The 2nd one told the ladies to do a mosh pit I was holding onto the bar, and got bumped into a little bit. I didn’t know how to properly get away so I just stayed there. There was also a running circle around I’ve only heard of the mosh pit. I had to get away because they were kinda unorganized, and kept getting closer when I got away. I was thinking about joining, but decided against it. A person gave me a compliment, and we talked for a tiny bit while the 2nd band took their stuff so Violent Vira could go. This was when I went back to the front because I wanted to see her, and stuff. Originally I wasn’t going to record, but I ended up getting some full songs anyways. I’m only gonna post the one clip that isn’t a full song, and I’ll just listen to the rest

It was so cool. I did a lot of jumping, singing, and screaming. Almost everyone was singing it was so fun. At the end something gross happened so I’ll put a read more for those who don’t want to read it

It was so hot due it being crowded, and I had a hoodie on so I got too hot. I fell, but someone helped me to the trash can. My favorite song “I don’t care” was going to play too! I managed to bring my stuff over to the trash can, and sat down. I was pretty dizzy, and ended up puking. The person got me a water while the guards also brought me some paper towels. I was ok after that, and went outside. My mom came, and I listened to more songs. It was awesome! I can’t wait to go to another concert maybe I will go into the mosh pit next time. I also will make sure not to wear a bunch of layers, and I will wear tennis shoes instead of platforms

Chapter 27 of human Bill Cipher trying to trick his captors into liking him, featuring a mall shopping trip that turns into this:

Also, Bill faces the most difficult ethical dilemma of his life: should he act like a big jerk to a 13-year-old.

####

As they left the cheap jewelry kiosk, Bill tapped his new dress shoe against Stan's ankle to catch his attention. "Hey. Your cut." He flipped a ring in the air.

Stan caught it and inspected the symbol on its surface. "Is that the Royal Order of the Holy Mackerel?"

"You gave your protégé your fez, I thought you might want a replacement! I know how proud you are of your lodge membership, Fisherman."

Stan admiringly studied the ring and its open-mouthed crescent fish; then the corners of his mouth turned down. "Ahhh, it wasn't my membership." He stuffed the ring in his pocket.

"No? I got one with the Fishmasons symbol if you'd like that better." Bill spun the oversized ring on one finger. It slipped off and he fumbled trying to catch it.

In the smoothest move he'd pulled all summer, Dipper caught the ring before it hit the floor. He ignored Bill's outstretched hand and inspected the complicated tool-lined diamond symbol. "Fishmasons? I thought they were called..."

"Yeah, you would," Bill scoffed. "Do you believe everything you read in The Paranoia Code? You know novels are usually fictional, right?"

"But don't masons work with stone? How does a 'fish mason' make sense?"

"If everyone knew what it meant, it wouldn't be a secret society, would it?"

Dipper gave up on prying anything more than snark out of Bill and turned toward Stan. "The Royal Order of the Holy Mackerel is associated with the Fishmasons, right?"

"Yeah," Stan said, "they're uh, sister organizations or something, I think. It's complicated."

"It's a spin-off organization," Bill said. "All Mackerels are Fishers. Once you've reached the top rank in the Fishers, you're eligible to join the Holy Mackerel."

"Yeah. What he said."

Dipper nodded. "Sooo... is it true that the Fishmasons are secretly... working with the government, or...? I mean, yeah, I read it in a book. But they've had a lot of real historical figures."

Stan snorted dismissively. "If they are, they didn't invite me to those meetings."

"Well sure. The lodge that decides politics is in D.C.," Bill lied. Dipper's head whipped around to stare at him. Ha. When they got home, Bill would have to spend some time deciding which would be the stupidest conspiracy theory rabbit holes to send Dipper down. If he played his cards right, by Thanksgiving he could have the kid spouting rubbish that would alienate half his extended family.

"Would you stop staring at me like that?" He shoved the side of Dipper's face; and, while he was distracted, grabbed back the Fisher ring to inspect its symbol. Kryptos's face. Far better drawn than Bill could do. And the thin little layer of gold atop the ring should be enough to enhance Bill's psychic signal. Maybe that would be enough to get a call through to the Nightmare Realm.

He tucked the ring in his shoe and turned to Stan. "Anyway, if you think that was good, you should see what I can do in a real jewelry store. What do you say?"

"I dunno. Jewelry shops are tricky, they're always on the lookout for shoplifters."

"They never catch teams and we've got two rambunctious kids to split their attention. I'll do the distracting, you do the lifting. When's the last time you had a gold watch that isn't cursed?"

"Nope!" Mabel, who'd been trailing behind the group with her arms crossed, finally shoved her way between Stan and Bill. "That's enough! We came here for a good time, not a crime time!"

"We came here to go shopping," Stan protested. "We're shopping!"

"Yeah, we're just getting the best discount possible."

"It's like advanced couponing."

Bill laughed. "Hey, I like that."

"No!" Mabel stood in front of them, arms and feet spread wide like a barrier. "Grunkle Stan, you should know better. You're letting—" she dropped her voice to an emphatic whisper, "Bill talk you into doing bad stuff. The whole reason you came along was to make sure he can't do that!"

Stan snapped, "Oh, like you didn't just make us stand around for an hour while you played dress up with him! Why's it okay when you play with the demon, but nobody else can make him useful?"

Mabel winced. "No, that's not... I mean..."

If this conversation went the wrong way, Stan and Mabel might both talk each other out of doing anything interesting with Bill. He'd better defuse this situation quick. "Hey, c'mon, Stanley, that's your niece. Don't be so hard on her."

There was a flicker of irritation on Stan's face directed at Bill, followed by a flicker of guilt toward Mabel, followed by him grunting and refusing to make eye contact with anyone.

That was one threat neutralized. Bill turned his grin on Mabel. "Sorry for monopolizing the trip, kid. We'll make it up to you! Fordsy got you that cute crystal bracelet, didn't he—wanna graduate to some real gemstones?"

"Hey, yeah," Stan said, immediately perking up. "You like jewelry! I can get you something with hearts or kittens. Way better than a bunch of boring rocks." Bill mentally patted himself on the back. Oh, he was so good at this. Good old sibling rivalry. Families were so easy to manipulate.

Mabel slapped her hand over the rainbow crystal bracelet mixed amidst her other bracelets. "I don't want you to get me real jewelry!" she shouted; but Stan had already set out on his new mission, with Bill trotting along just behind him. "Not if you have to steal it!"

"Relax!" Bill waved without turning around. "We're a couple of pros, you've got nothing to worry about." He elbowed Stan before he could absorb Mabel's protests. "Don't worry, once she's older she'll appreciate what a financial investment fine jewelry is. Never too early to buy a little gold. Or—well—acquire gold."

"Yeah," Stan said, "who knows when the next apocalypse is gonna be."

"Could be any day now," Bill lied.

"The only bracelet I want is this one!" Mabel waved her arm in the air, pointing at the shooting star friendship bracelet Bill had made. But Stan and Bill were too far away to care about her protests now.

Mabel's shoulders slumped. She glowered at the friendship bracelet. It didn't seem as friendly as it did when Bill gave it to her. "This whole trip was a mistake, wasn't it."

Dipper grimaced. "I didn't say it."

"You don't have to." Mabel sighed heavily. "I don't know what got into me. B—Goldie's been so nice lately, I thought he was making progress! But he's been nothing but a creep today. Guess the niceness was all an act."

"He can act nice for a long time. It took Grunkle Ford almost three years to figure out how evil he is." When Dipper concluded that this hadn't had the comforting effect he'd intended, he asked, "Do you wanna tip off security about the jewelry heist?"

Mabel sighed again. "No, I don't want Grunkle Stan to get in trouble. And if Goldie's arrested he might spill the beans to mall security. Let's just wait outside by the car."

"Yeah, all right," Dipper said. "If they don't come out in twenty minutes, we'll call Ford."

Headed the other way across the mall, Bill said, "So, a watch for you, a necklace or something for the kid, and for me... they probably don't have crowns here, so—"

"Whoa, hey, I don't remember offering to get you anything," Stan said. "I already got you fancy shoes and a bunch of clothes. We're square."

"We're no such thing. Besides, why should I help you if I'm not getting anything?" Bill asked. "Maybe earrings? Gimme a nail when we get home and I can pierce my own ears—"

His arm was wrenched backwards and he fell on his back.

Thirty feet away, Mabel yelped as she was yanked back and landed on her butt.

Bill and Mabel turned around and stared at each other.

Bill said, "Right! Forgot about that. Just—get over here."

"No!" Mabel shouted. "You get over here!"

Bill scowled. "Come on, kid. Your great-uncle and I are trying to do something here. If you don't want to come along, at least let Stanley have the other half of the bracelet—"

"I said NO!" Mabel planted her feet wide apart and tugged her wrist back as far as it could go. "You used me! You were only nice so you could go outside and I fell for it! As soon as you got what you wanted, you started acting like a huge poop face again!"

"Wow, language—"

"I'm not helping you anymore!"

Bill could feel his face heating up. "Kid, don't be ridiculous! You can't stand there forever! You're being..." selfish, irrational, petty—what word would get him what he wanted?

The pedestrian chatter over the inoffensive mall music had fallen silent. The feeling of being watched crawled over his back. (He seemed to discover another unpleasant new human bodily sensation every day.) Oh. Witnesses. There was no way the stranger in a shouting match with a little girl was coming out of this looking cool.

He could still save face if he got her uncle to do Bill's arguing for him. He turned hopefully to his new shoplifting buddy. "C'mon, she's—she's being unreasonable, right? We're talking about one watch, here."

And Bill had lost him. Stan's expression hardened. He crossed his arms and Bill flinched at the movement. "If a stupid watch is gonna upset Mabel that much..."

Families were so difficult to manipulate! Why did they have to gang up on him, it wasn't fair. He shot a furious glower at Mabel.

And then laughed, loudly enough for the rubberneckers to hear. "Okay, okay! You win. Sheesh, you look so serious. Peace talks in front of the Kidz Zone?"

Sternly, Mabel said, "Okay, but you do not get to ride the little coin-operated train."

"I wasn't gonna ask!" Bill paused. "Or the—?"

"Or the helicopter!"

Dipper called, "You haven't earned it, man."

"Fine," Bill snapped, "I didn't want to ride it." Swallow your disappointment, Cipher. Just play it cool.

When they'd rendezvoused, Bill said, "Okay, I might have gone a little overboard. Big deal. But we've been here all afternoon, we haven't eaten, I'm sure that's why everyone's so testy. Let's just swing by the food court and then get out of here."

Mabel frowned. "You're just trying to get us to stay."

"Yes. I am. So that we can eat before we go." If he ended this on a win, even a small win, that would be what everyone took away and he could call this trip progress. "Funny thing about human bodies is they need to be fed a couple times a day. Maybe you've noticed."

Dipper frowned. "Dude, you're only eating twice a day?"

"I don't question your diet, get off my back. What do you think, Stanley, feed the kids before we go?" Bill might've lost Mabel, but he had a shot at securing Stan. He could work on Mabel again once they were home. "You wanna drive home a couple of cranky teens, or a couple of cranky and hungry teens?"

Dipper snapped, "We're only cranky because of—!"

"Nah, he's right," Stan said wearily. "I'm starving. We'll grab something quick to eat."

Bill immediately perked up; but Mabel's frown deepened.

####

"I want chicken strips," Dipper said. 

Mabel said, "I'm getting pizza."

Bill said, "I want—"

"I don't care what you want," Stan said. "I'm getting a burger and you're getting the fries."

"Oh, so you want to find out what I'm like when I'm the cranky and hungry one?"

Stan grunted. "Fine. Your budget's five dollars. I really do only have a twenty."

"Fine." Bill drifted over to Mabel, who'd gotten in line in front of the food court's pizza booth. "Hey, Shooting Star—"

"Leave me alone, jerk."

"Whoa, am I not allowed to get a slice of pizza?"

Mabel didn't respond. She was glaring through the glass display window at the available pizza flavors as she waited for her turn to order. Apparently Bill interpreted that as permission to stay and look over the flavors himself. 

Standing so close to Bill Cipher when Mabel didn't want him there was like having a monster breathing down her neck. She hadn't realized how hover-y he could get until it stopped being fun. She remembered something like this from Ford's lesson on cults and con artists, how they try to get into your head by talking and talking and not giving you any time and space to breathe.

She could feel Bill's heavy gaze on the side of her face. Dipper and Stan were at the next restaurant over, but Bill stood between her and them. The chain bracelet on her wrist felt like a handcuff. She wanted to rip it off and be free of him. She wanted to go home.

"I've never had American pizza before," Bill said. "What do you think, cheese or Hawaiian?"

Mabel screwed up her face. "Ew, the one with pineapple?"

Bill's grin twitched wider. "Is that a vote for cheese, then?"

Gross, he was trying to get her to talk again. She glared at the pizza more determinedly. "Get what you want, I don't care."

Bill sighed. "Fine. You're no fun." He looked over the pizzas—standing too close—for one brief moment of heavy silence; and then, pointing between the cheese and Hawaiian, murmured to himself, "Eenie, meenie, miney..."

Mabel's whole body went stiff.

####

She felt the oppressive oven-like heat of Bill's dark floating pyramid, a too-euclidean temple built without the comfort of humans in mind, so hot that touching the walls burned your skin; and she felt a sticky sweat running down her back. She felt the constant electrical static of Bill's glowing shadowy grip around her waist. Every time she shifted and struggled, her sweater crackled and stung her. Bill's hand felt like nothing, absolutely nothing, and it was crushing and inescapable.

She could hear his voice, that forced jollity pushing to the verge of exhausted hysteria, saying, "I think I'm gonna kill one of them now just for the heck of it!"

She could see his eye like a blood red spotlight, eye like an incinerating laser, the light swallowing her and Dipper; she heard her heartbeat pounding in her ears; she saw the symbol that represented her flashing in Bill's eye, and even before he stopped she knew it would be her. 

"EENIE... MEENIE... MINEY..."

She saw his hand tremble with rage as he prepared to snap her out of existence.

"YOU!"

####

"Hey, you." Bill put a hand on Mabel's shoulder. "What are you getting? Maybe we can split two slic—"

There was a wild look in Mabel's eyes.

The moment she seized his upper arm, he knew he was ending up on the floor and it was going to hurt.

She spun her back to him, jerked him against her, and flipped him over her shoulders. It was bizarrely relaxing, that second spent floating upside-down in the air. Familiar, comforting.

And then he slammed back first on the tile floor. And it hurt.

He stared wheezing at the faraway lights until his internal organs remembered how to lung. The world was too bright; he'd lost his sunglasses. He sat up and gingerly felt the back of his head. It had cracked open, he was leaking internal organs—no. That was his hair. His head was fine.

Dizzily, he asked, "What was that for?" He shook his head to clear it. "Hey. Hey! What the heck was that for!" He grabbed the counter and got to his feet, and almost slipped back down on his first attempt. "I've been a little obnoxious but what'd I do to deserve a surprise attack out of nowhere? What, were you just waiting for a chance to get the jump on me—"

And then he saw the look on Mabel's face—the absolute unadulterated terror—in the split second before she gave a little flinch of realization and the guilt kicked in.

Baffled, he looked past her and the confused nearby mall-goers to Stan and Dipper—who thankfully didn't look angry, but they also didn't look as confused as Bill felt. They had tight-lipped white-faced looks like they understood what they'd just seen perfectly.

"What," Bill said. "What'd I do? Was it something I said?" He racked his brain. He did something that scared the dickens out of them—because all of them were giving him that look—it was three against one, something must have happened that he didn't pick up on. Something that made humans nervous that wasn't important enough for someone like him to recall?

He didn't know what.

That was it. He lost. All his work was undone, they were afraid of him again, they saw him as a threat and they'd lock him back up in the shack. There went any chance of ever seeing the outside world before his execution. There went his hopes of befriending the more pliable humans, or winning Ford back over. There went his conversations with Mabel. And he didn't even know what he did wrong.

If he killed Mabel and cut the bracelet cord, was he fast enough to escape before Stan and Dipper could react? If he lunged over the counter, could he get the pizza cutter and slit Mabel's throat before she flipped him again?

He saw a flickering glimpse of his uncoordinated scramble in the futures where he tried; the scene quickly fizzled out as he concluded it wouldn't work.

"Sorry," Mabel said. "Instinct. You know how martial arts are! You get it trained into your muscle memory, and... and... I... didn't mean to do that, that was my bad."

No less confused, Bill said, "Yeah, no, sure, it's—it's fine." He couldn't afford for it not to be "fine"; he didn't know what the other options were. "I know I cut an intimidating figure." He laughed weakly.

He couldn't apologize even if he wanted to. He didn't know what he was supposed to be apologizing for. He was still watching Mabel's face and Dipper's and Stan's for any context clues to explain what just happened.

And Mabel said, voice small and shaking, "You... don't wanna hurt us again, right?"

Bill blinked slowly at her.

It was the stupidest question he'd ever heard.

She had to know that. Everyone watching had to know that. Bill had been plotting how to hurt them again not fifteen seconds ago. He had every reason to want to hurt them—his very survival depended on finding a way to hurt them—and anyway, regardless of his intentions, obviously if he was asked he'd say "no," wouldn't he! As if he could admit to his captors that he did want to hurt them! It was such a breathtakingly stupid question that he could laugh.

He didn't laugh. He didn't point out how dumb she was for asking, or what a waste of time the question was, or remind her that they both knew there was only one answer. He didn't want to show off how effortlessly he could talk circles around humans; he didn't care about making her feel stupid.

He only wanted Mabel to stop looking at him like he terrified her.

So he said, "No. Of course I don't want to hurt you." He nodded toward Stan and Dipper, "No promises about these guys, they've been making fun of our fashion sense all afternoon, but... not you." He held up one hand, showing Mabel the friendship bracelet she'd given him with the evil eye beads. "You gave me a new job, remember?"

He'd hoped the jokey half-threat might help lighten the mood, maybe get her to smile; but she just nodded. "Okay."

Okay.

Stan shuffled his feet awkwardly. "Welp. I lost my appetite. We're going home."

####

Bill didn't care about Stan and Dipper glaring at his back as they trudged toward the exit, but Mabel walking so quietly beside him was sandpapering at his nerves. If he were back home and she were one of his usual pack of friends, he could just order her to perk up or else get out of his sight until she did—but that wouldn't work here, where he was currently not all powerful, he didn't have supreme control over everybody in the vicinity, and they did have to share a ride home. If he tried to get all imperious on her, she'd never speak to him again and Stan would probably break his skull.

What could he do to make her less nervous?

"Hey." He held out his hand to her. She gave it a quizzical look, then looked up at Bill. He said, "Can't hurt you if I can't use my hand, right? Unless you expect me to start biting."

Mabel said, "This isn't, like... a deal, is it—?"

"No! What? There's no deal, where would there be a deal?" Irritably, Bill said, "I'm just trying to help, if you don't think it's helpful then fine, whatever—"

Mabel took his hand. He shut up.

She flinched in surprise and pulled her hand back, holding the ring with the Fishmasons symbol. "I don't w..."

"I know you don't. Listen—we're all going to jail if we go back to 18th Century to return anything, but... I mean, we pass the ring kiosk on the way out, so..." Was that enough? Would that do anything?

She pushed it back into his hand. "You return it."

Irritation flared up his throat; he swallowed it down. "No problem." She was probably worried he was trying to set her up.

As they walked past the kiosk, he steered around to the side opposite the teen manning it; ran one hand over the rows of rings like he was idly inspecting the designs as he passed; and with a subtle movement, slid the stolen ring back amongst the others without pausing. He showed Mabel his empty hand to prove he'd done the deed.

As they moved passed the kiosk, she took his hand again. He squeezed hers back.

He'd find another way to get a message out to Kryptos. That dumb cheap ring probably wouldn't have worked anyway.

Dipper muttered, "You're still a threat if you have one hand free." He took Bill's other hand. They simultaneously shuddered. Never mind the being-watched feeling Bill had earlier, this was what the phrase "skin crawling" truly meant.

But Mabel immediately perked up. "Thanks, Dipper."

Oh! Sure! Thank him. Bill shot Dipper a dirty look and tightened his grip. (It wasn't even tight enough to hurt.) "I forgot how sweaty your palms are."

"Shut up."

Behind them, Stan grumbled, "I'm just glad you only have two hands."

"Hey!" Bill twisted around to give Stan an exasperated look. "Do you have any idea how much I envy you right now? This is torture. I can feel every fingerprint on these two. How come you're the only one who doesn't have to suffer."

Mabel laughed weakly. "Because Grunkle Stan never tried to end the world."

"Neither did I." He sighed exaggeratedly. "But fine—I'll take my punishment like an adult."

He'd gotten a laugh out of Mabel. That was good enough for now.

####

As soon as the car pulled around to the house side of the shack, before they'd even come to a stop, Bill unfastened his seat belt, shouldered open the door, and tumbled out into the sunlight and dirt. A couple of stolen shirts fluttered free.

"Hey!" Stan rolled down his window. "Get back—! How'd you get that door open?!"

"I never closed it!" Bill was already doing cartwheels across the grass, turned like a sunflower to catch the early evening sunbeams filtering through the trees. "I just pulled it close to the car."

"It was ajar the whole drive?!"

"A jar of what?" Bill's cartwheels were already better than the ones he'd tried earlier that day.

Mabel winced. "Sorry, Grunkle Stan, I should have checked..."

"It's not her fault!" Like heck was Bill letting Mabel get in trouble over one little door. "I'm an out-of-control agent of chaos! I'd ride home sitting on the roof if this body had the friction to stay put."

Stan snapped, "Next time, that's where I'm putting you!"

While Stan parked properly and everyone else got out, Bill got tired of cavorting and trudged up to the shack. He kicked his shiny new shoe against the wall as he waited for the Pines to let him inside.

"Glad that's over," Stan sighed. "I'm never going shopping with you again."

Yeah, sure he wasn't. Bill could work on him. Stan would want a new watch eventually.

"And I'm still starving," Stan said.

"Pizza," Bill said. Dipper and Mabel perked up like a couple of dogs that had just heard their owner say walk.

"Ehh..."

"Hawaiian," Bill added.

Stan looked considering. "I do appreciate pineapple's laid-back, tropical attitude." Dipper and Mabel groaned in disappointment.

Bill proposed, "Two pizzas."

The Pines and Bill went inside, and the door swung shut behind them.

None of the humans noticed the minuscule break Bill had kicked in the shack's unicorn hair barrier.

####

(Thanks for reading, y'all! I've been really looking forward to posting this chapter, so if you've got any comments or thoughts, I'd love to hear them!)

ProhibitedWish Dance Courtship

Some bugs use dance to court potential partners

Time: Paper sketch started 5/7/24, digital file time ~9hrs

Layers: ~37

Tools: Paper then ibisPaint X

Btw planning on opening commissions!

Just realized that it’s am instead of pm

Omg I just watched across the spider verse. Vague spoilers

Everything is so cool. Normally the villains are my only favs, but I really like Miles, and Gwen. The spot is also very awesome. I love how he went from a silly villain to a serious one. And omg I was not expecting a cliff hanger.

Doodled in class as kids were talking about strategic ways to rob a bank with all the students in class. Honestly I tried drawing him bigger, but I suck at it, and couldn’t get his limbs to look right

Chapter 18 of Mabel has made the questionable decision to befriend human Bill (real title TBD), and the first chapter with an actual title!

After the emotional rollercoaster of the last chapter, this one's pretty lighthearted. Featuring: food poisoning, anti-intellectualist propaganda, ritual sacrifice, arson, burns, injury, cannibalism, and children almost dying. And friendship!

####

One of the things that came with immortality—mature, cosmic-scale immortality, not baby immortality like you found in vampires with a few measly centuries under their belts—was an expertise at meditation.

And it had nothing to do with being particularly wise, or serene, or enlightened (although Bill would argue he himself happened to be all those things). Even the most rambunctious, cantankerous, petty, spiteful, impatient, silly immortal in the multiverse could drop into a thoughtless trance deeper than the Mariana Trench with nothing but five seconds' notice that he had some time to kill and there was nothing interesting on TV. 

Most mortals struggled with this idea, the same way fish struggled to understand how it was so easy for land mammals to hold their breath underwater. They didn't understand that it was a necessary survival skill.

Some millennia were boring. "You've had every conversation you can imagine with every person you know, you won't see a fresh planet for an eon, you're floating in the void of space, and your only company is the glitter thrown off of dead stars" boring. So boring the only way to get through them was by holding your breath until they were over. And in those times, the only way to endure the soul-crushing mind-shredding suicide-inducing boredom of those long, slow, dull millennia was knowing how to productively dissociate for the next five thousand years without so much as needing a snack break.

Bill was very old. Bill was very good at meditating.

It wasn't doing him a bit of good.

He'd lost count of how many hours he'd spent meditating since his capture: sitting in the dark, legs crossed, hands on his knees, eyes shut, trying—trying—trying to do anything. Trying to astral project out of this prison. Trying to see into the mindscape. Trying to connect to the countless windows through which he could see all over Earth. 

Trying to feel the vast stores of pure energy that made up the core of his being.

He couldn't feel it.

And he was not terrified, he wasn't he wasn't he wasn't.

Surely the Axolotl hadn't taken that energy away—that would be infinitely cruel—but he'd done an amazing job of sealing it away. Bill was psychically dead when he was awake, helpless prisoner when he was dreaming. Here he'd thought the Ax was gonna help him avoid punishment.

Well, what do you do when you're in a cage and you aren't strong enough to break the bars? You pick the lock. Where could Bill find a psychic lock pick?

Someone knocked on the bathroom's doorframe. "Hey Bill?"

He snapped out of his futile meditative state. "Yeah?"

"Are you using the toilet or just lurking creepily?"

"Lurking creepily!"

Mabel pulled aside the curtain and turned on the light. "Do you wanna help me make a video on—"

"More than anything." Bill got to his feet and—ow—cracked his sore back. Meditating could keep you sane when you were in the deepest depths of sensory-deprivation boredom, but it didn't actually offer you any entertainment. Mabel, on the other hand, did.

He'd find a lock pick later. Something would come up. It always did.

####

The weaving camera only revealed a blurry patch of carpet and upholstery back before it managed to focus on its target: half a hot dog lying between the back of the sofa and the living room wall. "There it is!" Mabel said. "I knew I smelled something in here."

"Wow, look at the colors on this thing! The green splotches kinda look like tie-dye," Bill said. "Hey, nobody's had hot dogs since you locked me up, have they?" There was a moment of silence as they tried to figure out how long that hot dog had lain, cold and forgotten, behind the couch.

Then the camera jostled as Mabel tried to reach past it to the food. "I'm gonna eat it."

"I'm gonna eat it."

"Hey!"

Bill's arm stretched past Mabel's, snatched up the hot dog, and disappeared. 

"Biiill! I wanted to try it!"

"No way, it's mine now! You snooze, you lose, kid!"

Mabel whipped the camera around to focus on Bill's grinning face as he inspected his prize. "Hey, this thing's growing mushrooms! It's provided its own condiments!" He held Mabel back at arm's length as he shoved the hotdog in his mouth, chewed quickly, and swallowed.

"Jerk," Mabel said. "How did it taste?"

Bill looked thoughtful. "Kinda sour and vinegary," he said. "Probably from the mold."

"Gross! Do you think it was safe to eat?"

Cheerfully, Bill said, "We'll know in a few hours, won't we?"

####

Mabel sat outside the downstairs bathroom with the camera turned toward the curtained doorway. A radio on the floor playing a Sev'ral Timez song unsuccessfully drowned out the sound of Bill heaving into the toilet.

One trembling arm reached out of the bathroom toward the radio. Bill croaked, "You're my only proof that time is still passing." He feebly patted the radio. "Tell me the universe keeps moving forward. Songs play. Moments end. I'll be free again." He made a choking noise and the arm quickly withdrew.

Mabel turned the camera toward herself. "And that concludes Mabel's Guide to Indoor Foraging! Tune in next time for... I don't know, how about animals?"

Bill replied with a deathly wheeze as he inverted his stomach.

"Animals it is!"

####

Mabel's Guide to Animals

####

The camera opened on a shot of the living room sofa, where Bill sat cross-legged and grinning next to a large easel pad. The first page of the pad was covered in drawings of cute animal faces, birds, fish, and (closer to Bill's side) skulls, lightning, and triangles.

From behind the camera, Mabel said, "Welcome to Mabel's Guide to Local Animals—"

"I'm helping," Bill said.

"—featuring Bill Cipher as my cohost!"

"That's me!"

"Yes it is. Lots of different systems have been proposed to help categorize animals—"

"These are called 'taxonomies,'" Bill said.

"—but together, we've picked out some of the best, most useful ways to categorize the animals of Gravity Falls. Such as: size!"

Bill flipped the first page of the easel pad, revealing a page covered in drawings of a couple dozen creatures ranked in size from mosquito up to lake whale.

"Color!"

Bill revealed a page with animals arranged in rainbow order. (Several of the overwhelmingly brown population had been circled in various hues of blue, purple, green, and pink, as Bill made mental notes to himself on how he'd recolor some of Gravity Fall's more visually boring creatures. Mabel had stuck star stickers beside the ideas she liked the best.)

"Friendliness!"

Another flip, and four columns capped by faces ranging in emotion from smiley to angry. The angry column was very long, but several creatures had been scratched out and hopefully moved to the sorta-smiley column.

"How good they taste!"

Bill turned another page to reveal a list of animals ranked by flavor, and said, "And a very important follow-up..." He turned another page to reveal one titled "How Many Times You Can Survive Eating It." There was a lot of overlap between the previous page's "Delicious!" column and this one's "Only Once" column.

"Super important," Mabel agreed.

Bill said, "You can also sort animals by..." Flip. "Quantity of bones!" Bill's handwriting utterly filled the page. It was unnervingly thorough. He'd listed "humans," "human babies," and "toothless humans" as three separate species.

Flip. "Planet of origin!" There were twelve different headings, only one of which was in English. One heading titled "?????" simply had a doodle of Bill underneath.

Flip, revealing a pie chart. "Percentage of known timelines in which a species has conquered the Earth!" Bill pointed at a slice that took up almost a quarter of the chart. "Humans are in the lead!"

"Yes!" The camera jiggled as Mabel pumped her fist in the air. "USA! USA!" Her chanting petered out. "Hey—what's that bit next to it—?"

"Don't worry about it." Bill smacked his hand over the pie sliver labeled "Bill" and quickly turned the page.

Mabel said, "Anyway, after several rounds of rigorous scientific debate, we've determined the most efficient and useful way to categorize the various creatures in Gravity Falls: the Fuzziness Scale!"

Bill gestured proudly at the heading on the final page, and then pointed at each category as Mabel listed them off.

"Starting with hard animals—"

Bill said, "Such as turtles and rocks."

"—then crunchy ones—"

"Roly-polies, ants, and baby turtles."

"—then smooth and firm—"

"Snakes and fish."

"—smooth and squishy—"

"Slugs, pigs, and Soos."

"—part fluffy, part bald—"

"Humans and winged snakes."

"—regular fluffy—

"Cats, dogs, and bears."

"—extra fluffy—"

"Alpacas and baby chicks."

"—and super deluxe MAXIMUM fluffy!"

"Tarantulas!"

Mabel said, "Our primary goal is to offer the scientific community a new, more accessible taxonomy that everybody can enjoy!"

Bill said, "And our secondary goal is to remind humanity of the inherent futility and cruelty of categorization! Reject boxes, embrace irregularity, and destroy the tenuous connections between concepts and synapses that you call 'knowledge'!" He pointed directly at the camera. "Return to the times of Icarus when humans could fly because no one had taught them they couldn't! Raze your universities, turn your libraries into origami, and execute your teachers as witches! Burn it all down!"

"Burn it down!" Mabel cheered. "Burn it DOWN, burn it DOWN—"

####

From atop the kitchen table, the camera recorded the stove, upon which the easel pad lay engulfed in flames. Mabel and Bill watched the mini-inferno silently.

Mabel turned to Bill. "I'm gonna get some sticks so we can roast marshmallows."

"Good idea. I'll watch the fire and not make it worse."

Mabel shot him a skeptical look.

"I promise."

"I'm holding you to that!" Mabel jogged from the room.

Bill glanced out the kitchen doorway to make sure she was gone, turned toward the stove, and slowly, ever so slowly, stuck one finger into the flames. "A—"

####

Mabel smiled at the camera. "Welcome back! My co-host has been banned from the rest of this episode so he can reflect on his behavior."

Behind her, Bill, one hand bandaged and face covered by a paper bag that read "PLAYED WITH FIRE," said, "It was worth it!" He'd persuaded Mabel to draw his triangle face over the text.

"So, now that you know several ways to categorize the creatures of Gravity Falls, you can go meet them! And hopefully befriend them!" Mabel said. "Now, meeting animals is difficult, but there's several ways you can make it easier! Such as fishing, going to a petting zoo, sneaking into your friends' homes to talk to their pets, disguising yourself as an animal—"

Bill threw in, "Using a spell to summon them."

"Using a spell to su— Doing what?" Mabel stared at him. "Do you know a spell to summon animals?"

"Oh yeah, it's easy!"

"What kinds of animals."

"Any animals in hearing range," he said.

Mabel gasped. "Can you teach me?!"

"Sure! It's easy. You've gotta be a girl, put on the fanciest dress you own, stand somewhere in the open, sing a song—"

"What song?"

"You make it up on the spot. It's one of those 'sing from your heart' deals."

"Oooh, Mabel likey."

"The most important part is keeping your mind focused as you sacrifice a..." Bill hesitated, glancing toward the camera, and said, "Well, the whole world doesn't need to know this trick, do they?" He covered the camera lens with his hand, and the screen went black.

####

Bill shot from the attic window as Mabel stood on the picnic table in a frilly lime green dress and a dozen multicolor bead necklaces and held up a cardboard sign for the camera that read, "Summoning animals with magic: ATTEMPT ONE!" She gave Bill a thumbs up. Visible from the edge of the camera's shot, Bill gave one back.

She tossed the sign aside, turned toward the trees around the shack, and started singing into a megaphone loudly enough that the camera faintly picked it up: "My name is Mabel, queen of the animals! I want all creatures to be my pals! La-la-la—um—la-la, la—be my best friends foreveeer!"

"Hey, she's not bad at this," Bill muttered. "Even got a rhyme in." He panned the camera around the scene as squirrels, rabbits, gnomes, and other small critters curiously emerged from the tree line. A couple of deer watched thoughtfully.

"To animals everywhere, small and huge—come to me and I'll give you a hug—aaAAAH!" Mabel jerked up the hem of her skirt and hopped from foot to foot. "Bugs, that's so many bugs! Ack!" She shakily resumed singing, "Um—The queen of the animals is friends with bugs too... but it'd be cool if you didn't... climb on my shoe...?" She started. "YEEK!"

The camera wiggled as Bill flinched. "Oh, uh-oh, M—Mabel, watch out—!" He banged on the window. Mabel evidently didn't hear. Under his breath, he muttered a word not designed for human tongues but that probably should have warranted washing his mouth out with soap. And then a giant hand with fingers like tree trunks reached from the woods and snatched up Mabel.

The world blurred and bounced past the camera as Bill tore across the attic, screaming, "WHATCHERNAME-MABEL'S-BROTHER YOUR SISTER'S GETTING STOLEN IT'S NOT MY FAULT—"

####

Bill aimed the camera through the tiny window in the front door to watch as Dipper and Mabel limped back to the shack—weary, dirty, clothing torn, sticks and leaves in their hair, arms slung over each other for support. Bill stepped back as they opened the door. Brightly, he said, "Hi, kids! Have fun?"

Dipper gave him a murderous look. Exhausted, Mabel looked at the camera and said, "This has been Mabel's guide to... how not to befriend the local animals." She slithered out of Dipper's grip and lay on the floor. "I'm gonna take a nap here."

Dipper looked tiredly at Mabel, then glared again at Bill, then just sighed and muttered, "Bill, take that stupid bag off." He trudge up the stairs. "This is all your fault."

"Is not!" Bill called; but the camera picked up his quiet chuckle.

The view dropped to the floor as Bill decided his amateur cameraman duties had been completed, recording his feet as he walked into the kitchen to leave the camera on a counter. He didn't turn it off.

It caught the scene through the kitchen doorway as Bill tossed his paper bag mask aside and surveyed Mabel on the floor, hands on his hips. He crouched in front of her and loudly whispered, "Hey. Shooting Star. Can you hear me?"

She didn't respond.

"Out like a light," Bill murmured. He studied her face; and then gently placed a fingertip on her forehead. The camera recorded his lips moving as he murmured, too quietly to pick up: videntis omnium, magister mentium...

He finished his chant. Nothing of any note happened. Bill frowned, stood, and sighed.

And then, after a moment of shifting his weight as though debating what to do next, he knelt back down, awkwardly picked Mabel up, and carried her upstairs. He paused cautiously on each stair step to ensure he didn't trip. A few minutes later, the camera watched him stumble back downstairs, trudge into the living room, and turn on the TV.

Half an hour later, Waddles wandered into the entryway and Bill went into the kitchen, came back with a stick of dry chorizo, ripped off chunks with his fingernails, and tossed them to Waddles while singing a song he'd made up about cannibalism. And then he returned to the living room and Waddles wandered upstairs.

Nothing else of interest happened. The camera kept on recording, forgotten, until the battery died.

####

I just realized both of the Stan twins have a type, and it’s gold. Cause Bill is gold, and so is Goldie