#wendyxdipper

Dipper strolled leisurely down the hallway with his backpack over one shoulder. He was the first one to complete this morning’s thermodynamics test, confident he had aced it as usual. Until now, it had been a typical morning at West Coast Tech. Last night almost seemed like a distant dream. Furrowing his brow, Dipper set out towards the library to make sure it wasn’t. A short walk brought him to the alley next to the library, and, sure enough, it was there. A menacing red eye ominously crossed out. The very sight of it put him on edge, causing the hair on his neck to stand on end. A quick glance at his watch made him turn on his heels and set out towards the student union.

Wendy was now a junior at Tech majoring in environmental studies with a minor in forestry. She had a hard fought admission process, as her scores were just high enough for admittance to the prestigious school. It had only been resolved by a year at Road Kill County Community College and a letter of recommendation from Ford Pines himself. It would be folly to turn away a student recommended by a renowned scientist with 12 PhDs. However, none of these events were on her mind at the moment. She sat in Trembley Hall eagerly waiting on her friend Dipper. He had called in the early hours of the morning panicked and fearful. Wendy had calmed him down after a few moments and suggested they discuss it in person once he had some time to think it through.

She had spotted him almost immediately as he entered the other side of food court in the student union. She waited till he was close enough to spot her and waved. Dipper smiled back and pulled back the chair opposite her, placing his backpack on the table. “Hey Dip!” she offered cheerfully as his face returned to its previously thoughtful and worried state. “Hey Wendy, thanks for meeting me today,” he replied, pulling his laptop from his bag. “No prob man, you know I’ve always got your back. So what’s bothering you?” Dipper looked down at his screen as he spoke, “It’s serious, Wendy. Something we haven’t dealt with since the summer we met.” She frowned as he paused, “Well don’t keep me in suspense Dip!” He continued with a frown, “I think it’s the Blind Eye…they’re back.” There was a pause after a gasp from Wendy as both students considered the possibility.

Wendy broke the silence, “What makes you think those red-robed freaks are back?!” Dipper slid his phone across the table; his photo gallery was open on a picture of the Society of the Blind Eye symbol scrawled on the library wall. “I saw this last night and just a few minutes ago. It’s on the side wall of the library. I noticed it last night as I was heading back to my apartment. I freaked out and it’s quite possible they tailed me to my place. I felt like I was being watched all the way back and heard several sets of footsteps on the stairs behind me as I unlocked my door. It was…surreal to say the least.” Wendy considered this for a moment before she spoke, “That’s totally insane dude! I can’t argue with the symbol. It looks like the real deal, but are you sure about being followed? It could have been anyone.” Dipper began typing furiously, “I’m almost certain, I just…had the feeling… Besides, even on campus, there aren’t a bunch of people walking around at that time of day.”

His friend ran a hand through her red mane and grew thoughtful, “I’m not doubting you, just making sure you were certain. These guys are bad news, Dipper. Have you got any ideas? Do you know why, or even how, they are back?” He continued scanning the results on his laptop’s screen, “Honestly...No. I have been searching through every newspaper, archive, police report, missing person file, and anything else on record in Oregon and northern California that might give us a clue. I’m going to call Gruncle Ford later. I’m sure he’ll have a lead, or he can get one from McGuckett.” Wendy nodded, “Good idea…but promise me you will be careful, Dip. We have no clue what these guys might do other than erasing our memories. They might be out for revenge. Don’t take any risks man, especially if I’m not there. If you need my help, call anytime day or night. Promise you will do that?”

Maybe NSFW. Rating is T/M, but nothing’s really explicit. My Wendip Week story for the prompt “Naughty and Nice.” And, writing too fast, I called Soos’s family by the wrong name originally! Sorry, dawg!

Naughty (but Nice)

By William Easley

Pioneer Day was the perfect date for their visit. Wendy and Dipper were attending college year-around—he’d already finished his B.A. degree in only two years, and he was now working on his Master’s, and she would have her bachelor’s degree in hand in another four months—but Pioneer Day fell on July 6, and they had an extra-long weekend vacation from college down in California, so the timing was ideal.

Also, it was a good time to visit for other reasons. One plus was that Pioneer Day drew everyone, and that meant everyone, downtown. The Shack was closed and all the family, even Abuelita and the Ramirez kids, were in town, and no tourists would come wandering up the drive. Grunkles Stan and Ford had sailed off somewhere on another expedition. Mabel and her new husband were enjoying a two-week trip to Ireland, their honeymoon.

So, Dipper and Wendy had the Shack, privacy, and most important, each other.

In the dappled shade of the bonfire clearing, Wendy stretched languorously. “What was that, our third time?”

“Mm. Let’s count it up: Once up in my old attic bedroom.”

“Check. That was good except for the splinters.” She rubbed her butt and made a face.

Dipper nodded. “Probably should have used the bed. Then once on the counter next to the cash register.”

Wendy punched the air. “Yes! I always wanted to do that! More fun than driving a tank!”

“And now here in the grass, where you once told me you were too old for me.”

Wendy lay on her side beside him, lazily stroking his bare chest. “Guess I was wrong, huh?”

He nuzzled her. “So glad you were.”

“Well,” she said with a contented sigh, “What with starting college so soon and all, we didn’t ever get a honeymoon, but this kinda makes up for it.”

“Morning’s getting on. Let’s get dressed,” Dipper suggested.

She pouted. “Aw.”

“You don’t want to kill your husband before our third anniversary,” he said, kissing her.

She still didn’t make a move to retrieve her scattered clothing. “Where should we go next? Lake?” Wendy suggested. She really liked the water.

Dipper shrugged. “We could try it, but I’ll bet there are people around, swimming and boating. How about that hot spring up in the mountains?”

“Mm. Too far to hike,” she said. “Being back in Gravity Falls makes me want to be all lazy and irresponsible again.”

“I . . . think we covered the ‘irresponsible’ part,” Dipper said, chuckling. “Hey, hand me my shorts, please.”

“I would,” Wendy said, making no visible effort, “but—ugh!—I can’t reach them. She grinned. “You can roll over me and get ‘em for yourself, though.”

“Um . . . I think I can stretch.”

A few minutes later, fully dressed, they strolled down the Mystery Trail, hugging each other in the way Dipper used to think sappy when he was younger and saw teen couples walking linked like that. “So,” he said, “next year I’ll have my Master’s. Think you could stand it if I stayed in school another two years for my doctorate?”

“Stood it so far, dude! I’ve decided I’m gonna take that one-year master’s program in environmental science myself. Shouldn’t be hard—I’ve already taken the undergraduate equivalents of most of the courses for the comp-exam track, got an A in all of them. Normative is two years, but I’ll bet I can nail it in a year and a half, tops.”

“I’m betting a year. Go for it,” Dipper said. They stood in front of the Shack, holding hands and just looking at it. “Same-y, but different-y, as Mabel says.”

Wendy hugged him. “Yeah, Soos has the place really fixed up nice. It’s nearly twice the size it was.”

“Top tourist draw in Oregon last year.”

“Soos and Melody are so happy. Didn’t he want seven kids?”

Dipper grinned. “Yep, one to love for each day of the week.”

“Well, four more to go. They’ll make it!”

He kissed her cheek. “We’ll get started ourselves whenever you want. What next?”

She sighed. “Let’s go back inside for a last look around. I just love this old place so much.”

“Um,” Dipper said, “I think I might need a little more recuperation before—”

She bumped him with her hip. “Nostalgia, man, not lust! C’mon, just one more walk-around.”

They sauntered through the Museum, laughed at the Sascrotch—Soos had recently given him new designer underwear—and then, on impulse, dug out the electron carpet—“What do you think, Dip?” Wendy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe some other time,” Dipper said. “Right now, it would seem, I don’t know, kind of weird.”

She laughed. “When were you ever worried about weird, big guy?”

Hey, they’d been married for nearly three years, so what the heck. Then, having swapped bodies, they roamed around a little more, joking and laughing and somehow feeling completely at home in each other’s skins. “Time to change back, I guess,” Wendy said in Dipper’s voice.

They had returned to where they left the carpet, in the gift shop, and everything seemed quiet, empty. Dipper, in Wendy’s body, said mischievously, “You know, I just might change my mind about that weirdness bit. I just realized there’s still one place we haven’t visited.”

“Huh?”

He twitched the curtain aside. “Roof time! Roof time!”

Wendy, in his body, laughed. “Up where we might be seen?”

“Don’t lame out on me!” Dipper said. “You know you want it!”

“Pret-ty naughty,” she said, but she climbed the ladder.

I ought to work on my butt muscles, Dipper thought, climbing up behind her and seeing his body from the rear. They emerged on the roof—Soos had nailed the S of the Mystery Shack sign permanently to the shingles, so the sign still read MYSTERY  HACK, just as they remembered—and they scrambled to Wendy’s old retreat on the flat roof over an attic dormer window. The cooler was still there, but some storm in the intervening years must have blown away the lawn chair.

“You really up for this?” Dipper asked, beginning to take off the flannel shirt and wondering about how to unhook a bra by reaching behind. “Not too weird for you, is it?”

“You darin’ me?” Wendy asked with a broad grin as she shed Dipper’s vest.

He said, “Sure am—Mr. Pines.”

She arranged their discarded clothing into an improvised pad and said, “OK, then let’s see how the other half lives—Mrs. Pines!”

They attracted a woodpecker’s beady-eyed interest, but at least no Gnomes. And later, lazing up there in the late-morning sun, Dipper said, “You know, we shouldn’t have done that. It was really very, very—”

“Nice,” Wendy insisted. “Nice in a whole different way, but man! In fact, now I’m curious. I’d like to swap back and, you know—climb back up and try for double nice!”

The carpet got a lot of use that day.

The End

DREAM.

Second comic Wendip

Wen-dip Kiss.

Mason “Dipper” Pines (18) x Wendy Corduroy (21)

(by William Easley)

My story, written for Wendip Week 2017. Prompt: Meet the Parents

(August 30, 2017)

The next day would be Dipper's eighteenth birthday.

And Wendy Corduroy couldn't sleep. Because.

Because of a lot of things. For a change, Dipper and Mabel weren't riding back to Piedmont on a bus, or driving themselves, or even flying down on an airplane. Instead, their dad and mom were coming to pick them up here, in Gravity Falls.

Because, though Wendy had met Mr. and Mrs. Pines many times—and though Mr. Pines especially was fond of her and talked her up—tomorrow she'd meet them in a whole different way.

Because "Mom, Dad," Dipper would tell them, "this is the girl I'm going to marry."

And—what?

Normally Wendy could stick her chin out and deal with anything, from a chimera to an animated mummy to a ghost. Normally she was fearless. But tonight—

What if Mrs. Pines brings up the age thing?

No, I'm twenty, he's eighteen, big deal! My dad was younger than my mom when they married! Dipper says his mom's six months older than his dad, too. She doesn't let anybody know that, though.

And look at Ford and Stan! Decades, man!

But—Dipper's always been his mom's favorite. What if she, like, hates the idea and disowns him? I couldn't come between him and his mom. So—what will I do then?

She tossed and she turned so much that finally she couldn't stand it, got up, dressed, and quietly left the Corduroy cabin.

Maybe a walk in the woods would calm her. She walked straight back from the house, down a path through the woods that led to a shallow tinkling creek, crossed the creek on a tree trunk her dad had felled and then adzed off level to make a rough bridge, and started an upward climb that came out on the treeless crest of a hill.

She noticed how quiet it was—no insects, no owls, no wind. Bright moonlight making everything silvery and blue-shadowed.

Standing alone, with her arms crossed, Wendy stood there looking at the distant lights of town, bathed in the glow of a full moon, directly overhead—Must be midnight.

"No," Dipper said. "Later, I think. And the moon's really only just past first quarter. I think you're dreaming."

"Dude!" She turned around. "How'd you know I'd be here?"

Dipper shrugged. "I think I'm dreaming, too."

They embraced, and it felt warm and real enough. She leaned her forehead against his. "I still got two inches on you, Dip," she said fondly.

"You wear flats to the wedding," he said. "I'll wear heels."

That made her laugh. "Is this real?"

"I . . . don't know. We'll talk about it tomorrow and see who remembers what."

"This is weird, man. I never had a dream this intense."

"Nice weird, though," he said. They kissed, and that felt real too.

They heard a cough and looked around. Wendy wasn't surprised—though probably she should have been—to see Archibald Corduroy standing there, just at the edge of the forest. He had both eyes and looked younger than he had appeared to Dipper years before. And he had no axe embedded in his head, either, which improved his looks.

"Great-great granddad?" she asked.

He smiled and nodded. "Wendy. Someone wants to see you. I said I'd make the introduction. Hello, Dipper. Sorry about that turning you into wood thing."

"It's OK, man. You had issues."

"It's been a pleasure watching my little descendant here grow up to be a fine woman. And I know you're going to be a good man." He waved off anything they might have said in response and turned and beckoned. "Come on," he said in a surprisingly gentle voice.

From the forest at the foot of the hill walked—another Wendy.

"What?" Wendy asked. "Dude, who—"

"I'm your mother," the woman said softly as she stopped a few steps away. "Not the way I looked the last time you saw me, all wasted and sick. This is the way I looked when I was your age."

Her red hair was a lot shorter, but otherwise—they could have been twins. Like Wendy, Mrs. Corduroy wore a flannel shirt, jeans, and boots. "Wendy, Dipper," Archibald said, "this is Wendy's mother, Mrs. Amanda Blerble Corduroy."

Wendy said, "Oh!" She stepped forward. "I—can I touch you?"

Mrs. Corduroy smiled and spread her arms, and Wendy rushed into them. "I missed you so bad," Wendy said, her voice muffled.

Her mother stroked her long hair. "I've been watching you," she said softly. "I was never very far away." She raised her hand and gestured, and Dipper came over shyly and grasped it. "Mason Pines," Mrs. Corduroy said. "Or shall I call you Dipper?"

"Whatever you want, ma'am," Dipper said.

Then Wendy's mother embraced them both at once and kissed first Wendy, then Dipper. "I want you to know you have my blessing," she whispered. "I want you to tell Dan that, too." Her voice became a little sad. "I can't appear to him, you see. He misses me too much, and it would break his heart. But tell him you saw me and that I still love him just as much as I ever did."

Wendy stepped away—not far—and stared at her. In a weeping and laughing voice, she said, "You know what? I never knew your last name was Blerble before you married dad! Not until, like, two years ago! See, Dad wouldn't ever tell me my middle name, just that my initial was B."

"Oh, Dan can be so stubborn! My father was Henry Ward Blerble," she said. "My grandfather welcomed Dan into the family. My father, well, father thought Dan was too young and too poor for me and didn't. And Dan was an awfully proud man. I saw my father often enough after Dan and I were married, and he knew I was happy, but he went his way and Dan went his. The two of them never spoke, and even when we were poor, Dan wouldn't accept any help from him." She touched Wendy's cheek. "But don't be concerned about yourself. I have it on good authority that Mrs. Pines is going to be very happy with your announcement, darling. Stop worrying."

"Thank you, Mom," Wendy said.

"Dipper," Mrs. Corduroy said, "Don't you be afraid tomorrow. Just tell your mother, while you hold Wendy's hand. Just say it: We're in love, and we're going to be married. She already knows Wendy's good for you." She winked. "We mothers know more about love than you young folks think we do."

Archibald led Dipper off a little way and let the womenfolk have their talk, as he said. Archibald spoke of the forest and how much and how little it had changed in the last century and a half. Dipper listened. And some time afterward—too soon—Wendy came and took his hand and they turned and the ghosts were gone.

"I guess we have to wake up now," Wendy said sadly.

"I guess so. I love you so much."

"I love you, Big Dipper. More than I can say."

And mumbling, "More than I can say," Wendy opened her eyes and realized she was in bed. The clock's display said it was nearly three in the morning. Her phone chimed—Dipper's ring. She rolled over, got it, and thumbed it on. "Hi."

"Uh—hi. Wendy, sorry for calling this late. I just woke up. I had this dream—"

"I was there," Wendy said. "I know."

"Uh—on the hilltop? And we got your mom's blessing?" he asked tentatively.

"Yeah. We did."

His voice sounded joyful: "It was real."

She gently corrected him: "It is real."

"Yeah," he said. "It is real."

And that was all they needed to say.

by William Easley

(Wendip week Day 4: prompt is "The gang finds out.")

(August 19-25, 2014)

Tambry was the first. She and Wendy had met over in Morris at a chic little restaurant for lunch to talk about a million and one details about Tambry's and Robbie's wedding (which was still ten months away, but you can never be too prepared) when Tambry suddenly gasped and said, "Omigod! Who gave you a ring?"

Crap! I forgot to take it off! But, trying to keep her cool and pass it off as no big deal, she said, "This? It's a friendship ring. Just a little silver band, see? No diamond."

"Wendy," Tambry said, her eyes aglow. "You do NOT wear a friendship ring on the third finger of your left hand! Dish!"'

"Aw, it's really not anything that big," Wendy said, shrugging. "It just fits my left hand better. I hardly ever even wear it. Just a sweet gift from a guy I kinda-sorta like. You're right, though. I should force it onto my right ring finger." She pretended to have difficulty screwing it onto the finger, though actually it fit equally well there. "I'll probably have to soap this to get it off."

"Who?" Tambry demanded, shoving her chicken salad aside and leaning over the table, her gaze drilling into Wendy's.

"Nobody you know," Wendy countered, shifting a little in her chair.

"Dipper Pines," Tambry said. "OMG, you and Dipper—you're engaged!"

"Not so loud!" Wendy said. The Bon Ton in Morris wasn't exactly crammed with people who would recognize her—Gravity Falls folks in general thought the citizens of Morris were stuck up with no reason for being so, and few Fallers ever came to Morris unless it was to visit someone in the hospital or to consult a specialist doctor. "We're not engaged!" Wendy insisted. "Well, you know. I mean, we've talked about it, sort of, but the age thing, his parents, my dad, you know, a million things—"

Tambry took her hand in hers. "Wendy, this is Tambry here. You know what? I have this sharp memory of one time when we were, like five? And you saw this boy and told me he was cute? And I told him what you said, and you pushed me off my bike?"

"Yeah. . . I sort of remember," Wendy said, frowning.

Tambry squeezed her hand. "Girl! That kid was totally a dupe of Dipper Pines! Looked just like him!"

Wendy had no mental image. She mainly remembered feeling guilty for shoving her best friend to the sidewalk. "How do you even remember that?"

"I always remember cute guys," Tambry reminded her. "Oh, this is so great! He'll be such a cool husband, always whisking you away on wild adventures—"

"Nothing's settled!" Wendy said firmly. "We've talked, that's all. We—"

"Are you doing it?"

"—just have to, wait, what? TAMBRY! He's fourteen! Of course not!"

"He's a mature fourteen," Tambry said. "And won't he be fifteen in like two weeks?"

"Yeah, but—"

"You know what the guys we know were like when they were fifteen!"

"Well—he's not like that. And we've promised each other to wait and—see if this can—maybe in time, we don't know—look, just promise me, hand to God, that you won't tell a soul!"

"I promise! Oh, Wendy, I'm so happy for you," Tambry said with tears of happiness in her eyes.

And it was totally a coincidence, or maybe in the grand scheme of life it wasn't, that Mabel's farewell summer-ending sleepover went on that same night.

Candy, Grenda, and Pacifica came over to the Shack, Dipper swapped bedrooms with Mabel—because the attic was the right size for a mob of four girls—and in the course of the evening somehow a game of Truth or Dare eventuated.

Well, at sleepovers they always do, don't they? But I wanted to use a fancy word. Anyway, somehow Mabel (who always went for the dares) unaccountably decided on "truth" at one point. Candy asked her, "Is there remaining a place in Dipper's heart for Candy?" She didn't actually have a real crush on Dipper, but as she had said a few times, "I would not kick him out of my baenang if I found him there." That means "knapsack," by the way. Candy can be odd.

Mabel teetered indecisively. She knew she couldn't tell the whole truth, but this was Truth or Dare, and it was a sacred obligation, practically, to be a little bit honest. She said as comfortingly as she could, "I'm sorry Candy, Dipper loves someone else."

"Oh," Candy said. "That small sound you hear is my heart breaking in three equal pieces, each weighing one hundred grams!"

"It's Wendy," Pacifica said, her voice flat, her face expressionless.

"I didn't say that!" Mabel protested.

"I know it's Wendy." Pacifica looked sad, not angry. "Everybody knows it has to be Wendy."

"Hey, Pacifica," Grenda said in an effort to give her a little comfort, "if it's any consolation, Marius has an eligible cousin who's a baronet."

"How old is he?" Pacifica asked.

"I think eleven. But he's single!"

"Worked for the redhead," Pacifica muttered. However, she didn't sleep much that night.

So by the next morning because of Tambry, Robbie knew, and the guys in the band, and then of course Lee and Nate found out, and their girls, and Soos got wind of it from someone who dropped into the gift shop, and . . . you know how it goes. And you've probably played the game "telephone."

And that was why on the following Wendesday, Wendy discovered she was secretly married and three months pregnant with twins. Or that was what Lazy Susan told her, congratulating her and advising her on the best things to eat while expecting.

And that was why Dipper was totally confused when on Thursday afternoon Gideon Gleeful saw him downtown, walked up to him, and said, "Well played, Dipper. Well played. But you just remember, now, if you get a mite out of line, she can break your arm!"

And it was also why on the following Friday, when they got together alone for their last movie night of the summer, Wendy said morosely, "Dude, everybody in town thinks we're doin' it!"

"I know," Dipper said. "Stan's already jumped me and I had to deny everything. I explained and swore him to secrecy, but I'm not sure even he believes me. It's crazy."

Wendy sighed and leaned against him. "You know what, dude? We might just as well go ahead and do it."

Dipper's mouth felt as dry as the Mojave at high noon in the middle of a summer when a persistent high-pressure area over the Pacific deflected the usual wind patterns and kept the air depleted of moisture. He felt simultaneously excited and terrified and stammered, "Um—but—but we made a promise—"

Wendy tickled his chin and smiled at him from six inches away and in a husky voice asked, "Don't you want to, you know, do it with me?"

"Yeah! Of course. I do. I really do. But—but—you know. It's too soon. Uh. Do, do you want to? With, uh, you know, with, uh, with me?"

"So bad!" She hugged him and he felt the warmth of her sigh on his neck. "And that's exactly why we're not gonna. Stay strong, Dip. Three more years from the last day of this month, man!" she pushed away but reached to hold his hand. "Hang tough, dude. We good?"

"Yeah. We're good," Dipper said, squeezing her hand and trying to control his heart rate. For a minute, it had zoomed way up there.

She broke the hug but kept her arm over his shoulders, and he reached up and held her other hand, too. She sighed. "OK, man. My fault. I was wearin' that silver ring you had made for me in the ghost town, I slept with it on my finger the way I do sometimes, and then that morning I forgot to take it off, and somebody saw it on my finger and jumped to conclusions. So—hope you won't mind this—since I don't want to hide the ring away in a drawer, but also don't want to wear it, like, in public where people will see it, I—well, I got a piercing. So I can always wear the ring where nobody will see it."

"I—whatever you want to do, Wendy. After we got those matching henna tattoos on the last day of Woodstick, I'd even get a matching piercing if you asked me to."

"Not necessary, dude," she told him. "OK, you're privileged, 'cause we won't see each other for a long time after the end of the month, right? And 'cause you did give it to me. And 'cause I love it, and you. So—here, this is my solemn pledge to you that I'll be ready the moment you are."

And she showed him just where she wore the ring.