#graah

{the...the...avatar of gluttony?}

how nervous do you think Stan was when Gideon holds the flashlight up to him? like,,, Stan is AWARE of the mystical properties of Gravity Falls right? Is his mind racing with what that thing could do to him? is that why he was actually so nervous and sweating in the closeup? not because he was scared of Gideon, but because Gideon could ACTUALLY do something to him that he doesn't know about yet, something that could've caused him to lose the shack and the last known thing he knew of that could bring his brother back? the last things he HAD of his brother?

I'm in love with a fairytale

Even though, it hurts..

'Cuz I don't care if I lose my mind!

I'm already cursed.

It was dark, stormy, and the villain was still an hour away from home. Her car had broken down (the police chase was its final straw), her phone was dead (it was run over during said police chase), and the rain was mercilessly pounding against her thin jacket. Coincidently, she had found her way to the alleyway of the Hero’s apartment. She wasn’t supposed to know where the hero lived, but after one day she surprisingly appeared in her apartment and stole her food and stayed the night (she definitely shouldn’t be thinking about that night) she rationalised that it was only fair that the hero let her crash on her couch for a night. Despite her better judgement, she climbed on the fire escape and made her way up. 

The hero didn’t lock her windows, she was practically begging the villain to raid her fridge. The villain made her way in through the small window, slipping off her shoes being careful not to track in mud on the couches under the bay window. This was to no avail, once she was finally standing in the apartment she was dripping wet onto the hardwood floors. She took in the dark apartment, cosy. She was sure that in the daylight it followed a pleasant palette of pastel pinks, blues, and greens, but the only lighting was the occasional lightning that burst outside, allowing only for speculation of the hero’s taste in home decor. She did however, make out the crocheted plushies and framed watercolour paintings scattered throughout. It was a small apartment, the one main room cramping the kitchen, dining, and living room all in one. A quick glance to a door left ajar confirmed the hero must be sleeping soundly. Her cautious steps made their way to the fridge, hoping to find leftovers she could eat cold. Before even opening the fridge she felt a blunt pain to the side of his skull, a force with enough strength to toss her onto the checkered flooring of the tiny kitchen.

“Who are you! How did you- oh. Ith’s you.” The hero stood above the villain, bat in hand, wearing a tiny tank top and even tinier night shorts. Good lord. The villain’s hand quickly came to the side of her head to feel for any bleeding or swelling. 

“What the hell?” She screamed. The hero turned on a light, revealing her messy bun and retainer smile. 

“I’m thorry, I thought you were an inthruder” The villain brought herself up, supported by the countertop. The hero had put down their weapon and seemed unconcerned at her own indecent appearance. 

“In your defence, I am an inthruder.” She said, way to smug for someone who couldn’t stand up without the floors moving. The hero rolled her eyes at the jest at her lisp, without shame, she spit out her retainers, returning to her room to put them in their little case. 

“What are you doing here?” She said on the way, “How do you know where I live?” 

“Same way you knew where I lived.” 

“By being an obsessed stalker?” She yelled from her bedroom. The villain finally opened the hero's fridge, finding nothing but a few apples, a loaf of bread, and three heads of cauliflower. 

What is wrong with this woman? 

“Yup. You got any actual food?” 

“Nope. Get away from my cauliflower!” The hero threw a towel on the villain, a towel she considered an invitation to stay. 

“You stink.” she sneered. 

“Running around this city’s alleyways on a rainy night will do that to ya.” She winked. 

“Ya well, take a shower or something.” She yawned.

“Sounds heavenly, care to join me?” 

“You wish, Beautiful” 

The villain made their way, oddly excited to find out what shampoo the hero used to make her hair always smell so good. 

Cotton Candy Raspberry Explosion. Got it. She thought as she stepped into the shower.

The hero seemed to yawn the tiredness away, once the villain was finished with her shower she found the hero watching mindless late night tv on her extremely plush couch. The hero cradled a pillow close to her chest, the mess on the floor cleaned and a plate of grilled cheese still warm on the coffee table. She didn’t seem to notice when the villain appeared in the bathroom doorway with nothing but a towel covering her. 

“Uh, you wouldn't happen to have some ex-boyfriend’s stolen clothes around, would you?” 

The hero’s vision quickly moved from the tv to the villain’s arms. The villain's body had been laden with scars throughout the years, causing an annoying insecurity within the villain when on display, but something about the hero’s stare made her ego rise dangerously high. 

“You look fine like that” she smirked. 

“I don’t doubt it, but it’s a bit chilly.” 

“I can give you a blanket?” 

“Clothes. Please.” 

The hero laughed, as she stood from the couch, motioning the villain over to her bedroom. Being naked in the hero’s bedroom with only a tiny pink towel that had ‘beach babe’ written on it was a humbling experience for the villain. As the hero rummaged in her closet the villain found herself hoping she didn’t actually take out some ex boyfriend’s ivy league sweater for her to wear. Instead she pulled out a huge snuggie, which she initially thought to be a comforter. 

“You’re kidding.” 

“Really? Cause it’s pink?”

“That’s not the problem here.” 

“Well I have nothing else for you! You’re huge-” 

“Sure am.” She interjected.

“-and unless you wanna wait around naked for an hour while your clothes dry, this is the only option.” The hero threw the snuggie at the villain and she almost caught it before realising that would require both hands, one of which wasn’t available for it was busy gripping the towel for dear life. The towel was so damn tiny it couldn’t even wrap around her completely. She let the snuggie fall to her feet and admitted defeat.

“A little privacy?” 

“You, alone in my bedroom? No way. Use the bathroom.” 

The villain used tiny kicks to get the snuggie into the bathroom all while the hero’s laughs mocked her from behind. 

The hero was lucky her grilled cheese tasted so good; so there she was: pink snuggie, pink towel on her head, eating a grilled cheese and watching family feud reruns with her arch nemesis at 2 in the morning. She was half hoping the hero to offer to cut her cuticles. 

“So what are you doing here, anyways?” 

“Police chase.” She said through bites. “Phone died. Awful storm. And you just happened to be close by. Thought I could crash on your couch tonight.” 

“Why would you think that?”

“Hmm?” 

“I’ve been trying to arrest you for four years.” 

“Well, I’m taking the grilled cheese as a truce.” 

The tv continued for a while as the both women got comfy, the villain had long lost any tiredness, but the snuggie was proving comfortable to the hero at her side. It was 3 AM when the hero’s head had finally fallen onto the villain’s shoulder. It was 15 after when she started snoring. The villain had to remind herself how much of a pain in the neck the hero was to resist pulling back some hairs from her cheeks. They had gotten too comfortable. To buddy-buddy the villain's superior had said. The villain vowed to never fraternize again after they went a tad bit too far once. But god was it good to look back. 

They had both anticipated awkwardness or total avoidance but it seemed neither of them wanted it. Opting to ignore the fateful encounter and pretend it never happened. But it happened. It really happened. As slowly as she could she turned off the television and began to scoop the snoring hero into her arms, she tossed a little, murmuring something about her cauliflower while lifting her up. She ignored with great strength the soft skin of her thighs against her fingers and the way she cradled her head into her neck as she carried her to her bed. The crocheted plushies never ended, a bee, a dinosaur, a plushie that looked strangely like it was wearing the villain’s suit. She ignored the heat in her cheeks and set the hero down on the squishy mattress. 

“This is a terrible mattress for your spine.” She whispered, tucking her in. 

“Mhhrrm” she responded. 

She was about to leave and rummage through the hero's closets for a blanket when a hand softly gripped her wrist, with eyes stilll closed the hero mumbled something almost incoherent. 

“Stay,” she whispered. 

“We shouldn’t, hero.” 

“We won’t do anything. It’s just cold.” 

“You have like 14 blankets on your bed.” 

“It’s still cold. I have no more for you to cover yourself with.” 

“Ever the sacrificial type, hero.” She allowed himself the pleasure of finally getting the hero's hair out of her face, resting her hand on her cheek. She sunk into it, releasing her grip on her wrist. The villain couldn’t help it any longer, she made his way to the other side of the bed. 

“It’s my job”

“Just tonight, hero.” The second she was under the blankets she was met with the hero’s warm presence gripping onto her. 

“Ya, you’re not my type anyways. I just want you for your body.” She muttered into the crook of her neck. She wrapped her arms around her, shocked at how perfect they felt together. Before the hero's quiet snores reappeared, the villain felt a smile against her skin. 

“Your bosses suck by the way.” 

“So do yours.”

“Hmm.” She readjusted herself. “I should start locking my window.”