Boy Do I Love to Die and Be Killed [ Event | Gideon ]
The bags in front of Dipper's door could only mean one thing. That one singular solitary thing that he's dreaded for weeks.
Think of it this way: you know when you break your arm and you have to get a cast and you have to spend every waking moment just trying to scratch that one place in your elbow that you can't quite reach with a pencil? And you know how good it feels when you finally get that cast off? It's like this literal breath of fresh air on your ridiculously itchy and sweaty elbow. Yeah, that's exactly what it felt like that first day Dipper came home to a room devoid of powder blue suits and hairspray smell.Â
But then, when we went back.
There were those huge suitcases and that pompous kid, standing in the doorway and smirking as he usually does, probably totally aware of just how much Dipper didn't want to see him.
"Great. You're back. What, were you waiting for me to unpack those for you again or something?"
