#ticklish!dipper

🧢Dipper✒️

General:

He's for sure a lee-leaning switch

While he loves both sides of tickles, he's incredibly embarrassed about it. Good luck getting him to admit to anything

Lee:

His lee moods are frequent, to say the least. Not a concerning amount or anything, but definitely more common than his ler moods

He gets blushy, fidgety, and can't stop smiling. Pretty easy to spot.

Mabel’s the main one who catches on, though Ford is pretty close with his observational skills. Neither one of them minds helping him out.

He'll whine and squirm the entire time, but you Dipper loves being tickled. He likes to laugh, to let loose, and to have fun with the people he trusts. 

Cheer-up tickles make his day when he's upset. As long as he's up for it, he'll perk right up at some gentle pokes and praises.

Worst spots are his navel and underarms. Gentle tickles there drive him nuts, and raspberries are a death strike. His snorts would make Waddles jealous.

Melt spot is his stomach, believe it or not. He loves gentle, playful belly tickles. As long as you avoid his navel, he'll barely fight back.

He adores cuddles after you wreck him. He'll gladly take a nap with you, maybe share a small entry he made in the journal before he dozes off. 

Ler:

He's a dork of a ler, to be sure

He'll laugh alongside his lee, make dumb little noises, and tease his lee with the most cliché stuff you can think of. There's a high chance of cringing.

“Citchie citchie coo!”

“Geez, you're really ticklish, aren't you?”

“Huh? Sorry, couldn't hear you over all the laughing.”

“You know, I think I saw a tickle monster in Grunkle Ford's journal somewhere. Maybe I can summon it… And you're perfect to help!”

He wouldn't do anything without permission, of course. He'll regularly check in to see if you're okay, then tease you if you let him continue.

His ler moods are decently rare. He usually strikes out of revenge or to cheer somebody up, but he does occasionally get the need to wreck somebody.

He's pretty good with aftercare. Once he's done tickling you, he gets all bashful; his confidence dissipates with the ler mood. 

He'll bring you water for sure, and then stutter through asking if you want any cuddles, hugs, or snacks.

Regardless, he'll talk with you for a bit, helping you relax and recuperate. You can bet he'll make you some hot cocoa or tea.

🌠Mabel🐖

General:

Mabel's mostly a straight-up switch, though she is slightly ler-leaning.

She loves tickles. She can cheer others up, have a laugh herself, and bond with the ones she trusts and loves. What's not to like?

Lee:

The giddiest, goofiest lee in all of Gravity Falls.

She's got no qualms with asking for tickles, though she'll be smiling and holding back giggles the whole time.

Her lee moods are rarer than Dipper’s, but she loves when her loved ones help her with them. Mabel likes to laugh.

She's got a bubbly, infectious giggle; most of the time, her ler can't help but laugh with her.

Worst spots are her underarms and the backs of her knees. She shares the prior with her brother, but the backs of her knees are killer. She puts the Shrieking Shack to shame.

Melt spots are her sides. She loves gentle squeezes, pokes, and skittering fingers up and down them.

Mabel’s definitely a squirmer. If hiding in her sweater doesn't work, she'll wriggle around and weakly shove at her ler until she runs down.

You know she loves starting tickle fights with her friends, especially during their sleepovers. They eventually end up dragging Dipper into the mess.

Ler:

Playful, fun, and all about making sure you have a good time

Mabel will never go hard unless you ask her to. She knows Dipper usually likes having his worst spots targeted, but she won't go for yours unless you specifically ask her to.

Plus, you just know she'd love to tease.

“Oh my gosh, your snorts are adorable! You and Waddles would get along so well!”

“Poke, poke, poke, poke, poke, po— What? It tickles? Well, duh! Poke, poke, poke...”

“You’re, like, uber ticklish. I didn't think that was possible… So cool!”

“Your giggles are so cute! Ooo, and now you're blushing~ You need compliments more often. I'm on it!”

She's all about respecting boundaries. If you seriously ask her to stop, she's done in milliseconds. She'll also slow down and check in if she thinks you're getting tired. Of course, if you give the okay, she's happy to keep going.

Mabel is all about aftercare. You're immediately getting a blanket, some Mabel Juice (or fruit punch, if you can't handle its awesomeness), and some music to relax with.

She's more than happy to talk while you recover, and of course she's up for cuddling if you want it. She's pretty good at back rubs if you ask (Stan can attest).

Pacifica had come over to join the twins for a double-feature of two terrible films for the sole purpose of making fun of said films, and the afternoon had ended with Mabel pinning Dipper to the floor and tickling him until he swore that she could pick the movie next time. Pacifica had sat to the side, watching them with the curiosity of the sheltered child that she was.

She couldn’t even remember the last time someone had tickled her, or if she was even ticklish herself. As she watched Mabel shriek when Dipper’s hands struck a counter-attack on her sides, she couldn’t help but feel left out of the fun. Despite becoming friends, she felt that Dipper and Mabel still had an image of her in their heads, the untouchable and spoiled girl she used to be (and still slipped back into the act on occasion) and therefore, she was left out of the roughhousing. Was it strange that she wanted to experience that?

After Dipper had agreed to Mabel’s terms, he looked flustered beyond belief, and he was winded as though he’d run a marathon. Pacifica would almost dare to say he looked cute. Before she could entertain the thought further, Mabel was grabbing her hand and dragging her upstairs to read the new magazines she’d gotten, complete with boy band posters and makeup tips galore.

She was allowed to spend the night, and Dipper, likely traumatized by all the long nights with Candy and Grenda, had gone to sleep on the couch downstairs for the night.

For such an energetic girl, Mabel was quick to fall asleep, leaving Pacifica alone with her thoughts for just a few minutes, and she tentatively ran her own dainty fingers over her stomach beneath the blanket, and felt no urge to laugh or twitch away. She remembered reading somewhere that it was impossible to tickle yourself, but she figured it was worth a shot. She drifted off to the sound of Mabel’s breathing shortly after.

***

The next morning, Mabel shook her awake with unnecessary urgency, with the excuse that Stan was making pancakes for breakfast, and they needed to stack their plates before Dipper went back for a second helping.

The two girls made their way down the creaky stairs of the Mystery Shack, Mabel humming to herself the whole way. Pacifica was surprised to see how much energy she had in the mornings, but followed without comment.

As they entered the kitchen, Mabel grabbed two plates and began tossing pancakes onto them both while Pacifica took a seat next to Dipper at the table. Stan offered her a toothy grin, and Ford gave her a polite nod over his newspaper. Dipper gave her a little smile before shoveling another forkful of pancake into his mouth. Mabel held most of the conversation at the table, and once they were all finished eating, the twins got to helping their great-uncles with the dishes.

Pacifica wasn’t sure how to be helpful, having never really done her own chores before, but Dipper seemed to notice her hesitation and asked her to help him dry off the plates and hand them over to Mabel. She did so, forming a nice assembly line that got the kitchen clean quickly, letting the kids run back up to the attic to plan their activities for the day.

“Oh, I totally forgot!” Mabel suddenly exclaimed. “I’m supposed to go to Candy’s house today! She wants to show Grenda and I the stuff she made at robotics camp!”

Pacifica really didn’t want to go home yet, but she barely had time to accept that fate before Dipper spoke up.

“That’s alright Mabel, Pacifica and I won’t go on any cool adventures without you,” he promised.

Mabel grinned before running off to the bathroom to get dressed and ready for the day, leaving Pacifica sitting on her bed, feeling Dipper’s eyes on her.

“What are you smiling at?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dipper flushed. “Oh, sorry, I just…I think this is the first time I’ve seen you without any makeup, or jewelry. You actually look like we’re the same age when you aren’t all dressed up.”

Pacifica had honestly forgotten that she had washed off her signature purple eyeshadow and removed her earrings and bracelet before bed last night, and her own cheeks went a little pink as she realized she had been seen by the whole Pines family with a messy ponytail, and wearing a pair of Mabel’s baggy sleep shorts. “Thanks, I think?” she said.

“Don’t get used to me complimenting you,” he replied, but his grin told her he was joking.

Mabel returned shortly after, telling Pacifica that she could raid her closet for whatever she wanted, before giving her a hug and leaving again, the sound of her calling goodbye to Stan and Ford echoing throughout the house.

“So,” Dipper said. “Since I promised we wouldn’t do anything exciting without Mabel, I don’t really have any good ideas for the day. I wanted to show you something cool, y’know, but I don’t want to do anything too crazy for your first time, but I still want it to—”

“It’s okay,” she assured him. “I don’t need to hunt down some weird creature to have a good time, you know. We can just…I don’t know, watch another movie?”

Dipper’s nervous expression softened at that. “Okay!”

Pacifica took Mabel’s offer to borrow some clothes, taking a pair of denim shorts and a purple sweater which boasted a puppy playing basketball on it, and took the borrowed outfit into the bathroom to change and give Dipper the privacy to do the same.

They met up back in the living room, with Dipper already flipping through a stack of DVDs.

“Now that Mabel isn’t here, I don’t have to sit through a rom-com,” he said cheerfully, but then frowned. “Unless you want to, that is. I picked yesterday, so if you have something else you’d rather watch, we totally can watch that instead.”

The mention of his promise to Mabel only reminded her of the thoughts she’d had the night before. Still, Pacifica chuckled at his rambling. “Pick whatever you want. I liked the ones we watched last night, they were cool.”

Dipper’s face lit up once again, and plucked a DVD out of the pile, popping it into the player before joining her on the couch.

Pacifica had already swallowed her pride so many times recently: Dealing with the significant drop in her family’s wealth was a good example. So, there was really no reason to hold back what she was thinking. Besides, while Mabel was probably her best friend, it felt easier to talk to Dipper, after he’d seen her vulnerable, crying in a closet at a party, or covered in dirt and grime during a battle with a triangle demon. What did she have to be nervous about?

“Sorry I didn’t like, help you when Mabel was bothering you,” she said. “I’ve never really…had a tickle fight before? So I didn’t know if I should try to intervene.”

Dipper, who was still digging for the remote amongst the couch cushions, raised an eyebrow. “It’s okay, I mean, there really is no etiquette to it…But you’ve never had a tickle fight before? Like, ever?”

She shook her head. “I don’t have siblings, and none of my friends were the touchy type.”

“But, it’s…That’s just, like, a rite of passage in life!” Dipper said. “I don’t think I’ve gone a week of my life without Mabel tickling me.”

“Well, you seem really ticklish, so I guess it’s hard to resist,” Pacifica replied, smirking.

Dipper’s cheeks went red, but he narrowed his eyes. “Well, maybe it’s time you experience it, since you want to talk all confidently.”

Pacifica didn’t say anything, just widened her eyes in anticipation as Dipper’s hands reached out and grabbed at her sides, fingers wiggling.

The surprised, genuine laughter that burst from her lips was foreign even to her; she couldn’t remember if she had ever laughed that hard. The sensation was overwhelming, and although her body was screaming for her to escape, she was…having fun.

She brought her knees up to her chest, a poor attempt at defending her torso, and Dipper just gleefully began squeezing her knees, making her squeal. It was surely the most undignified sound to ever leave her lips, and she couldn’t even be bothered to care.

Not quite knowing what she was doing, she reached her hands out and poked her fingers into Dipper’s stomach, and felt proud when he began to giggle too.

While Pacifica was clearly quite ticklish, Dipper was apparently absurdly sensitive, and so his laughter quickly overpowered hers, making her feel mischievous and proud, a grin stretching across her face.

Dipper was quickly backed into the corner of the couch, Pacifica hovering over him and using one hand to scribble at his neck while the other snuck behind his knee, making him cackle. It was actually pretty cute, but that was a thought to analyze another time.

She assumed that she had won the tickle fight, a victory on her first try, but she wasn’t expecting Dipper to suddenly regain enough strength to push her back against the cushions and launch a new attack on her tummy and sides, making her kick her legs and shriek like some creature from Ford’s journals.

“Okay, okay!” she cried. “I can’t—”

Dipper stopped immediately, letting her sit up and catch her breath, arms wrapping around her torso to try and make the phantom sensation of his fingers go away.

When she met his eye, he was smiling, his cheeks flushed and his hat crooked on his head. “So, how was that for your first tickle fight?” he asked.

She couldn’t help but smile too. “It was fun. But, I think it’ll be better next time, when I win.”

Dipper raised his eyebrows. “Oh, is that a challenge?”

“Yup. And I’m not above asking Mabel for pointers,” she replied.

“That’s so not fair!” Dipper said.

Pacifica just giggled.

It had been a weird experience; being tickled was a lot different than she had imagined it, childhood memories of it still foggy, the whole fight-or-flight aspect having slipped her expectations. But regardless, letting loose and laughing like that had been fun. Refreshing, even. It made her feel like Dipper didn’t see her as some expensive, fragile item that would shatter in his hands, and then sue him for the damages.

Before either of them found something else to say, Mabel came bounding through the front door of the house, and peered into the living room. “What did you guys do while I was gone?” she asked in her usual bubbly manner.

Dipper caught Pacifica’s eye and grinned. “Wanna see what it’s like to win 2-against-1?”

Pacifica returned his grin. “Definitely.”

"Dipper, be quiet!"

Mabel whisper-shouted at her brother, sinking further into the pile of stuffed animals. It was the fiercest competition of the century, and she intended to win it.

What had her so determined, you ask? The annual Pines Hide-and-Seek Championship. Well, it was the first year they were doing it, but the technically-teen was going to make sure it carried on.

Downstairs, her Grunkles combed through the house, searching for their great-grand niece and nephew. The Grunkles had half an hour to find them. There was a twist the older men had added, just to make the game more fun. If caught, the kids would be tickled. They didn't really specify a time, figuring it would be best to play things by ear. 

The mystery twins gave no argument. They were determined to win, though the sweater-loving girl was definitely taking things more seriously. For Mabel, that's saying something.

Mabel, being serious? What was so great that she would forgo her usual silliness? Well, something she greatly desired; the winner, whoever they may be, got to dictate the Halloween decorations for the whole Mystery Shack. As long as it was within the budget, anything went.

She was determined to make it the most sparkly, retro, in-your-face crazy Halloween party ever. That meant she had to win. 

Stan rooted through cabinets, looked in couch cushions, even went as far as looking in the outskirts of the woods. He was putting off checking the attic, figuring the kids would be smarter than that. Mabel was always goofy, it wasn’t hard to think her hiding spot would be as well.

Using a gadget, Ford scanned the first floor of the Shack. It was supposed to detect the joy and wonder a child gave off, though he was pretty sure he calibrated something wrong. Still, he searched, hoping it would at least give him some edge. He didn’t want his home covered in glitter, or so scary that even the goat would have nightmares. If Dipper won…well, he wouldn’t actually mind that, but it was the principle of it.

Dipper was hiding up in the rafters, having used Mabel’s grappling hook to secure the spot. They hid together, figuring whoever got caught first could fend for themself. Mabel was rather proud of hers; it was simple enough that they probably wouldn’t look, yet small enough to where she could barely fit, to dissuade her Grunkles. It was pretty perfect.

After twenty minutes of fruitless searching, both old men went up the creaky attic stairs. The twins held their breath, knowing it would be moments before one of them was caught. The door opened, painfully slow, as the pair entered the make-shift bedroom. They could hear the end of Stan’s conversation as he peeked in the closet. “...it’s one of the only spots we haven’t checked, Sixer. One of them’s gotta be here.”

Ford entered a second later, checking under their beds. He was so close that Mabel went completely stiff, refusing to even blink before he stood up. “Those kids are good, I’ll give ‘em that. They’ve got your sneaky skills.” He got a pillow thrown at his head by a chuckling Stan. “Sure, sure. But they’ve got your smarts. I would’ve hid in a closet or somethin’.”

They were so nonchalant about the way they searched for the younger twins. It was like they thought it was a game. Well, everybody but Mabel thought it was.

Dipper looked at Stan, noticing how close he was getting to finding Mabel. He really didn't wanna be the first one caught, but he knew how badly his sister wanted to win. Sighing, he faked a cough, calling the attention of his Grunkles up. The things he did for her…

In seconds, two rough hands wrapped around his waist, yanking him down from his hiding place. “Gotcha!” Dipper barely had enough time to register that he was in Stan’s lap before five clawing fingers dug into his stomach. “G-GRUHUNKLE STAHAHAN!”

Ford chuckled, getting his fun in as well. He scribbled on and under the boy’s knees, all six digits doing something to get him laughing. It was unfairly ticklish. He almost regretted taking the L for Mabel. Almost.

“Hey Dippy, I got a deal for ya. If you tell us where your sister is, we’ll stop.” Oh, those cheaters! Mabel watched with wide eyes and Stan vibrated his clawing fingers into Dipper’s tum, keeping his arms above his head. She knew her brother had thrown his chance for her, but he still had to outlast the old men.

He wriggled and twisted in their arms, refusing to give in so easily; he wasn’t about to lose for nothing. “I- IHI CAHAHAN’T!” Ford snickered, squeezing his knees a bit more vigorously for emphasis. “Oh, but you can. Just say, ‘Oh, Mabel is hiding…’ and then you say it. It’s just that easy.”

So unfair… Dipper whined through his laughter, kicking as much as he could. Maybe a time limit on the tickles would have been a good idea… His Grunkles were obviously enjoying themselves, matching smirks on each of their faces. He didn’t hate it, per say, but it was much harder to stay sane when all three of them could see his reactions. 

It was…actually really nice of him to do that for her. Mabel would have to let Dipper DJ for the party. Waddles might be a little upset, but she was sure her pink companion would prefer snack table duty. 

Stan got a little impatient, deciding to be evil. He moved his bony fingers up to the boy’s armpit, digging into his hollows. Dipper let out a squeal that would put Waddles to shame. “NYAAAAHAHA! STAHAN! NOHO- *snrk* NOHOT THEHEHERE!”

Oooh, he went for Dipper’s bad spot. Mabel bit her lip as she watched her brother’s destruction: Ford teasing his knees while Stan went to town on his pits. She wouldn’t blame him if he gave her up, but dang it, she really wanted to win.

Right as Dipper was about to crack, the Nyan Cat theme song went off. Ford’s phone buzzed in his pocket, signaling that their half-hour was up. Mabel had won!

The girl sprung up from her mound of stuffed animals, startling both of her Grunkles. “HA! I won! Stan, go grab the basement key, I’m gonna make it rain glitter and gummy bears!”

Ford laughed, releasing Dipper’s legs as he watched his grand-niece celebrate. Stan sighed, setting the boy down on the carpet to curl into himself. “Okay, okay, ya won! Don’t need to rub it in, ya snot.”

 She chuckled, moving to hug her giggling brother. “Thanks for taking the loss, bro-bro. I officially crown you Head DJ.” He pumped a weak fist into the air, still giggling away the phantom sensations. Stan shooed her away, placing Dipper in his brother’s arms.

“You go get the dork some water. I’ll handle our winner.” Ford nodded, carrying the exhausted Dipper down the attic stairs. Stan cracked his knuckles before scooping Mabel up in his arms, holding her against his chest. “Congrats, ya snot. Here’s my favorite part of your reward…” 

He squeezed her side, making the sweater lover burst into bubbly giggles. She twisted and squirmed, eyes growing wide. “B-buhut Gruhuhunkle Stahan! Ihi wohohohon!”

He snorted, moving up to tease her ribs. “You did, yeah. Your brother got the worst of it; I’ll go a bit easier on ya. Congrats, you goober.” She whined, protests already forming on her tongue. “Thahat ihisn’t fahair! Sohore loser!”

Stan scratched and scribbled between each bone, acting as if it was just a normal conversation. “It’s totally fair. I don’t remember there being a rule against tickling the winner.” She scrunched up her nose, mock-glaring at him. “Thahat- youhu- uhuhugh!”  

It was adorable to see his relatives’ reactions. He loved to hear their laughs, see them smile, make them forget about the crazy lives they’d led for just a second. The whole “Weirdmageddon” fiasco had done a bit of damage. Stan took any chance he could get to make them feel like regular kids again. Dipper had already gotten his go; now it was Mabel’s turn.

Once again, the Gravity Falls Summerween store opened its doors. The odd tradition began again for the year, residents joyful as they picked out candies and decided on costumes. Well, every resident but one.

A certain brown-haired, blue-hatted tween was sitting in the Mystery Shack gift shop, biting at his fingers. Ever since the whole "Summerween Trickster" fiasco, Dipper had been wary of the town's strange holiday. He would never forget the scene of Soos eating that thing…ugh.

Stan was taking inventory, making sure nobody had nicked any of his moderately overpriced merchandise. His eyes eventually drifted over to his worrisome great-nephew. That kid would worry himself into the ground if Stan let him…

"Hey picks-a-lot, those cuticles taste good?" He walked over to the teen, flicking the bill of his hat. The older man didn't mean anything malicious by it. He's just unapologetically mean sometimes. Dipper was used to his Grunkle's antics, brushing the comment off.

Dipper tucked his hands in his jacket, looking down at the register. "Sorry Stan. Just thinking about…stuff." He hadn't realized he'd been biting his fingers again. It was an old habit, one he wasn't keen on picking back up. Yet there it was.

The uneasy expression on his face was barely hidden. Stan didn't really know what to do about the kid's nerves. Normally, he'd sick Mabel on him. The tween was out with Candy and Grenda, so that wasn't an option. What to do, what to do…

"Uh…look kid. You want the rest of your shift off? I've got the shop covered, and you look pretty dead." He gave it to the kid straight. Dipper looked like he was one loud noise away from snapping, his fraying nerves and general high-strung mindset on overdrive. Stan could handle the almost empty gift shop, Tuesdays were always slow.

Dipper nodded, hopping off the creaky cashier stool stool. "Yeah, please. Thanks, Grunkle Stan." He lumbered up the steps to the attic, gently closing the door to his shared room behind him.

What was Stan gonna do with that kid?

-

The next few days weren't any better. With the rapidly approaching local holiday, Dipper's nerves only grew. Mabel didn't really notice, too enamored by costume ideas and trying to figure out Waddles's measurements.

He didn't really know the absolute cause of his worry. Was it the chance of Mabel getting hurt? The possibility of another garbage candy monster? The fact that he still can't unsee Soos eating his way out of the monster? All are good guesses. He just wished he could pinpoint which one it was.

His antsy demeanor hadn't gone unnoticed by the other Mystery Shack residents. Soos had tried to get him to play some arcade games at the mall, but he just wasn't up for it. Wendy had little to no luck, her attempts to get him to loosen up going nowhere. It was up to Stan…and he had no idea what to do.

He had tried things that worked before, offering him an extra break and listening to his rants about the Journals. Dipper just wasn't up for infodumping at the moment, and he just got lost in thought on his breaks. On the morning of SummerWeen, Stan finally threw in the towel. He did the only thing he had left; asking Mabel what to do.

-

When he opened the door, Stan was met with Mabel trying to put a superhero suit on Waddles. She was dressed in similar attire, her cape dragging behind her. "Oh, hey Grunkle Stan! You come to see the best heros this side of the Falls kick some butt?"

Stan chuckled, shaking his head. He felt a bit bad for the pig, he doubted those tights were comfortable. Better Waddles than him, though. "Nah, I'll be quick. What should I do to get your brother to loosen up? Kid's been freakin' all week."

Mabel's eyes widened as he said this, her brain quickly piecing together the signs she hadn't noticed. "Crud…he has been anxious." She fidgeted with her hair, giving the pig a moment to nibble on his cape. "I normally talk him down, but if that hasn't worked…maybe make him laugh?"

Stan sighed as she said this. He considered himself a pretty funny guy, but his humor normally made Dipper groan or question his existence. Not the best for making Dipper laugh, though it always gets a chuckle out of himself

His thoughts wandered to the times he had made the kid snicker, landing on a few well-timed zings and one-liners. The last was when he had been messing around with Dipper in the gift shop. He poked his great-nephew's side, and he squealed. He hadn't done anything then, but now? Oh, it's perfect.

"Hey Mabel…your dorky brother is stupid ticklish, right?" She nodded, a smile slowly forming on her face as she figured out her Grunkle's intentions. Waddles nudged her arm, showing off the lovely slobber stain in his cape fabric. "Silly guy, now I gotta redo your cape! Grunkle Stan, do you think you can get Dipper to be less Dipper-ish by 6:30? Our costumes this year are super, heheh"

Stan rolled his eyes, his mischievous mind racing with ideas of how to get Dipper back to normal. Well, as normal as the tween gets. "Yeah, alright. If you hear girlish screaming, cheer me on." He shut the door behind him, leaving his grand-niece to her silliness. That kid never fails to make him smile.

-

Dipper was in the living room, a costume hung on the chair in front of him. Mabel's costume idea that summer was super heros, with him being the villain. It was actually kinda cool, with the utility belt of fake gadgets he and Mabel had put together. The only problem was him.

He was worried about putting the costume on. First off, it would mean going out and trick-or-treating with Mabel. Nothing's wrong with it, his brain was just telling him it's childish. There's also the fact that he's worried the Trickster might come back. Black licorice was bad enough before, but now he can't look at a stick without getting shivers. They very easily could've died.

Stan was creeping in the doorway, watching the tween's inner dilemma. If he wanted to be mean, he could've scared the crap out of him. But, showing a shocking amount of restraint, he knocked on the doorway. Stan walked over to him, ruffling the boy's hair. "Anybody home up there?"

Dipper, successfully snapped out of his daze, swatted at his Grunkle's hand. "Stan! Knock it off!" The older man chuckled, pulling his hand away and smirking down at the tween. That look…he knew that look. The look that meant Grunkle Stan was up to absolutely no good. "Stan…?"

He barely gave Dipper time to think before he snatched his great-nephew in his arms. It killed Stan's back, but it was worth it to hear the shocked yelp and protests from the kid. "Put me down! Stan- get off! Mabel!"

Stan flopped down in his recliner, holding Dipper in his lap. No help was coming for the boy. Mabel was in on it, as he quickly learned, and nobody else was at the Shack. It was just him, Stan, and the evil look on the older man's face as he wiggled his fingers. Crud.

"You worry too much, kid. You're gonna have more grays than me, and I put up with all'a you!" Those wiggling fingers were getting a bit too close to his stomach for comfort. Dipper squirmed, but with the way Stan held him, he was trapped. "Always thinkin' about these monsters and crazy creature things. You're so stuck in yer head, you didn't even notice the monster right in front of ya…"

He tazed Dipper's side, making him squeak at the unexpected touch. "Stahan, wait, plehehease-" He was so unbelievably screwed. "The TICKLE MONSTER!" Stan finally put his wiggling fingers on the boy's stomach, clawing and digging into the ticklish area.

Dipper squealed, shoving at his Grunkle's hands and writhing in his lap. His negative and anxious thoughts quickly faded to fuzzy, ticklish surprise. He hadn't expected this from Stan of all people. Mabel, absolutely, but Stan? He didn't really know how to react. "STAHAHAN! WHAHAHAT ARE YOUHU DOHOIHING?!"

"What's it feel like I'm doing, ya goofus? I'm tickling the snot outta ya. Now hold still." He spidered his fingers across his belly, making sure to get a few scratches in his belly button. "GEHEHET OFF! GRUHUNKLE STAHAHAN!"

Dipper kicked his legs, wishing the recliner was bigger. He barely had any room on Stan's lap, his legs nearly hanging off the armrest. Stan had him positioned so that his midsection was almost unprotectable, his arms practically pinned to his sides.

The tickling, as unexpected as it was, wasn't awful. He'd never tell the old man, but he was having a bit of fun. It was nice to let loose, to let his worrisome thoughts melt into giggles and squeaks.

The boy's laughter was, in Stan's eyes, adorable. It was nice to see the nervous kid laugh like that. Thinking of the night to come, he imagined the kids' costumes and candy-grab ideas. Candy...an evil idea bloomed in his mind. An evil, ticklish, awful idea. "I'm getting pretty hungry, Dipper. Might just have a quick snack…" He pulled up Dipper's shirt, waiting for the teen to catch on.

And catch on he did.

"Stahahan- Stan don't! Nonononoho!" Dipper's eyes went wide when he figured out Stan's plan. There's no way he could handle those. The tween desperately tried to get away, kicking out and trying to grab his Grunkle's hands.

His Grunkle easily pinned Dipper's hands, smirking down at him. It was almost too easy. Stan lowered his head, nibbling on his great-nephew's poor belly.

Dipper shrieked.

"NAHAHAHA! GRUHUNKLE STAHAHA- STAHAHAP!" He tossed his head back, kicking and thrashing under the ticklish nibbles. Stan's old man stubble wasn't helping. The scratchy texture made it so much worse.

Stan was enjoying himself. Hearing the kid's laughter reminded him of the stupid things he and his brother would do as kids, the fun they'd have. Before it all went south, they'd do this all the time. The best part was that he knew Dipper didn't mind it.

Just to be a jerk, he started making little "nom" noises as he nibbled the boy's stomach. Dipper twisted and shoved at his head, but Stan wouldn't budge. The tween resisted the urge to hit at Stan's head, instead gripping his silver hair. He didn't tug, but just grabbed on, needing something to do with his hands.

The nibbles traveled across his midsection, going from his stomach to his ribs, then back down to his belly button. Dipper was in stitches, the simple action reducing him to a cackling mess. He could barely think, his mind reeling at the assault on his nervous system. It wasn't bad, but it was mean.

Dipper managed to last for another two minutes before reaching his limit. The boy's laughter had taken on a breathy edge, his thrashing slowed with exhaustion. He patted the top of his Grunkle's head, tapping out.

Just like that, the torturous sensations stopped. Stan chuckled, raising his head and rubbing his great-nephew's midsection to try and ease the phantom tickles. Dipper curled into himself as he giggled out the leftover buzz. "Youhuhu…you suhuck…"

That got him a poke to the side. "Watch it, giggles." And Dipper, not having much of a choice, giggled. Stan let him go with a knowing smirk. The tween quickly slid off his lap, rubbing his sides. The clock read 5:30, just in time for him to get ready. "Your sister wants you dressed in an hour. Don't be late."

He left the room, leaving Dipper alone with his costume. Stan knew it wasn't a permanent fix. The boy was always stressing about something. He just hoped that the playful moment eased his worries for the night. Those kids deserve a good night.