My favourite things to come out of this year are (and honestly forgive me because my memory is the worst thing, thanks TBI): my orthopedic surgeon told me that I won’t need surgery for at least a few years and that the last surgery I had (in March) was successful and would postpone me getting arthritis in my leg for a few years

my friendship with @shycutie2 (literally my best friend) has really deepened and I’ve been lucky enough to get to know her so much more and better and earn her trust and trust her in return

my big brother has requested a posting (he is military) in my town

I’ve gotten to see my niblings grow and become more and more amazing and interesting every time we speak

I met @cornobblequeen and have started what I think will be a really long friendship.

I have had more than a few sexual encounters that may not have all been good but have definitely been entertaining

[image: Dean Winchester saying "No. Maybe. Shut up."]

I don’t know anymore I’m still in shock actually lmao

I honestly don’t mind! I feel bad because I was at work so I couldn’t answer right away, so sorry about that!

The problem is that this isn’t something DIpper can fix, either. He can’t protect her from her inner demons. We all try to do that for someone we love but we can’t we can only be at their side. 

Mabel’s greatest fear is being alone. She reaches out to everyone so she can never be left behind but, in doing so, still feels lonely. Ford says that Mabel has a magnetic personality but being pen pals with the pizza guy? How long would that last, really? She reaches out to people because she likes people but she’s so scared of being left alone

In this au she already got a taste of that and she’s never going back. She will fight tooth and nail before she’s left behind again. Marilyn is at the forefront of that because, to Mabel, Marilyn has never meant something good. It’s always more and more pain.

She looks too much like Marilyn. She acts too much like Marilyn. She likes the same things Marilyn did. 

I might finally give it a shot this year but I probably won’t the world may never know

darknessoflightreborn replied to your post: who is going to Suffer through NaNoWriMo with me...

Me??? Maybe??? I might at least give it an attempt who the fuck knows

Happy Birthday! It’s not all that long but I hope you enjoy it!

Wendy dodged around a stack of missing posters,a glitter covered bag in one hand, a small box in the other. Some FBI guys wereout front, talking to Mr. And Mrs. Pines (she had known Dipper and Mabel’sparents were out there somewhere, but it was just so odd seeing them here, now), Stan was rummaging around in thekitchen, Ford was probably in the basement, and Soos’ hammer was bangingagainst the loose tiles on the roof.

The person she was looking for, however,was a bit further into the shack. Balancing the box on the flat of her forearm,Wendy knocked on the door to the attic.

“Come in,” came through the wood, soft but trying to be loud enough so the personon the other side could hear. Pushing her way in, the redhead paused, taking inthe old room. Posters of boy bands and cute animals were covered with maps ofthe forest, places crossed out to follow the path the police had checked.

Above it all, though, was a picture ofDipper. He was grinning that charming little smile of his, eyes looking outfrom underneath the hat used to hide his birthmark. Mabel, wrapped in hersweater, was sitting at the foot of her bed, back to the door staring up at it.Waddles was at her feet, head resting on her thigh as deft, little fingersscratched behind his ears.

“Hey,” Wendy sat down next to her. “How’reyou doing, kiddo?”

The twelve year old shrugged and ducked herhead. Brown hair shifted to cover her face and the tear tracks on her cheeks.

With a soft sigh, Wendy placed the box andbag on the bed, wrapped one arm around the younger girl’s shoulder, and pulledher close. There were no words, no actions to make any of this better so theredhead didn’t bother with filling the silence up with things like ‘it’s goingto be okay’ because it won’t. Mabel might never be okay again.

“Come here,” the teenager mumbled, easilylifting Mabel up and placing the girl in her lap. Wrapping her arms around thebundle that was mostly wool and a little bit human, Wendy pulled her smallfriend close. Skinny arms wrapped around the lumberjack’s waist, holding tightlyto the flannel shirt.

Mabel didn’t cry though. She seemed to beall out of tears.

Wendy ran her hand over the soft, brownhair, picking out tangles and smoothing down the strands. “Hey,” she said, pickingup the box, positioning the twelve year old so that she could see the slice ofchocolate cake inside it. “Happy birthday, Mabel.”

Small hands took the little, white box andMabel stared at the contents for a bit before she looked up at Wendy. “W-would,”she paused, cleared her throat, swallowed, and started again. “Would you liketo share it?”

We’veshared every birthday together so we know how to make them perfect.

“Yeah,” the redhead grinned. “I sure would!”