The Month of Maybel

Month of Maybel – Week 3 –  Living With Your Average Nerdbro

A bit late with this one, oh well.

Month of Maybel – Week 4 –   Mabel’s Guide to…

Burnout! ‘Cause I’m not projecting at all…

This month has been really fun! Aside from Month of Maybel stuff, I’ve been doing really well creatively. I’d forgotten how much joy drawing and writing brings me, but now I’m starting to feel the burnout. Hopefully I’ll get out of my funk soon and be able to continue doing the things I love.

So I’ve never done this before, but I wrote it out like a transcript for an actual TV show.  Was kind of a fun experience?  (although formatting this thing was a nightmare and I couldn’t even copy over most of the formatting here @,@) Anyway I hope you like it!

Also these fics for the month of maybel are linked; it would help to read the one for week 2 about Anansi, but long story short, he’s a spider-person who wants to weave from a society where everybody’s a warrior.  He was an outcast, but helping his people win a series of contests against the Mantises meant that he’s not completely shunned anymore. 

Okay.  *Now* enjoy! INT. DIPPER AND MABEL’S ROOM – DAY

MABEL WEARS A HAND-KNITTED PINK SWEATER WITH FOUR HEARTS ON THE FRONT, EACH WITHIN ANOTHER.  MABEL STANDS IN FRONT OF A WALL PAPERED WITH BOY BANDZ POSTERS, PIG PICTURES, AND POSTERS FROM ANTARCTICA.  THE CORNER OF A MESSY DRESSER IS ON HER RIGHT, THE EDGE OF A WINDOW ON HER LEFT. 

MABEL Families come in many shapes and sizes, sometimes as small as Nana and Liro in Liro and Pugface, sometimes so big you have second-cousins you didn’t even know about until you got your inheritance! 

Today we’re going to take a closer look at some particularly unusual families – CRYPTIDS!!!

SWISH PAN – WINDOW ON MABEL’S LEFT

ANANSI STANDS ON THE WINDOWSILL FACING THE CAMERA.  THE BACKYARD IS VISIBLE THROUGH THE WINDOW.   A TERMITE MOUND STRUCTURE RISES IN THE FAR CORNER OF THE YARD, TEEMING WITH SPIDER-PEOPLE.

MABEL Please welcome our first guest, a seriously cute member of the Spider-People living in our backyard!  And ladies, he’s single!

ANANSI (looking nervously at camera) Are you sure that’s not an insect?  It has a very large black eye.

MABEL So, Anansi!  Tell us about your brother!

ANANSI (brightening) Oh! He’s one of my people’s finest warriors.  He can lift over a hundred times his own weight, run for hours without getting tired, and adjust his strategy in the middle of a battle.  Even after his legs were injured in the Challenge, many young warriors were seeking him out as a trainer – I could see him teaching them from here. 

MABEL What did you guys like to do together?

ANANSI Sparring, mostly!  Not that I was ever any good, but he was very patient and kept encouraging me to try again no matter how many times I fell down.  And I fell down a lot.  He always said that every warrior mattered.  But, well…I’m clearly never going to be a warrior now, with the Weaving, so I don’t know, but he might be – oh!

SWISH PAN – WINDOW ON WALL TO RIGHT

A SLIGHTLY LARGER SPIDER-PERSON IS CLIMBING OVER THE SILL OF THE WINDOW.  HALFWAY UP HIS BODY TENSES THE MOMENT HE NOTICES THE CAMERA.

BROTHER An enemy insect!  Hya!

BROTHER HURLS A SLIM OBJECT STRAIGHT AT THE CAMERA LENS.  THE BEGINNING OF MABEL’S SHRIEK IS HEARD AS WHAT IS CLEARLY A SPEAR STRIKES THE LENS.

STATIC

CUT TO FIRST WINDOW

ANANSI AND BROTHER STAND ON THE FIRST WINDOW SILL, MOUND STILL IN THE BACKGROUND.  ANANSI IS ON THE LEFT AND BROTHER IS ON THE RIGHT.  THEY STAND SEVERAL INCHES APART, BOTH SQUARELY FACING THE CAMERA.  THERE IS A SLIGHT CRACK IN THE UPPER LEFT CORNER OF THE LENS.  ANANSI’S ARMS ARE PULLED IN AND HE FIDGETS SLIGHTLY, CLEARLY NERVOUS.  HIS EYES MEET THE CAMERA BUT KEEP FLICKERING AWAY.  BROTHER’S ARMS ARE RELAXED, YET HIS POSTURE CONVEYS PREDATORY STRENGTH AND GRACE.  HIS GAZE IS STEADY.

BROTHER Are you sure that is not an insect?

MABEL Anansi was just telling us about how you two spent time together!  Do you have any embarrassing spiderbro stories to share with us?

BROTHER (stoically) My brother is not an embarrassment.  His Weaving allowed us to win back a large portion of our land from the conniving Mantises.  Word of his deed has already been sent out to the rest of our people.  He will teach a new generation of Weavers and spearhead our victory in reclaiming our ancestral lands. I believe he is a greatly valued and talented Weaver.

MABEL (squeals) AWWWWWW! Anansi is there anything you want to say?!

ANANSI (mumbling) Th-thank you.

BROTHER (grunts)

ANANSI’S FACE IS BRIGHT RED AND HE STARES DOWN AND TO THE SIDE, EQUALLY STUNNED, EMBARRASSED, AND TOUCHED.  BROTHER IS STOIC, STILL SQUARELY FACING THE CAMERA.  THE TWO STAND SILENTLY FOR SEVERAL SECONDS. SLOWLY BROTHER’S RIGHT ARM STARTS TO RISE.  A SPEAR COMES INTO VIEW.

MABEL Wai–

STATIC

EXT. ROOF OF SHACK – DAY

SOOS’S FACE FILLS THE SCREEN, SMILING HAPPILY AGAINST A BACKGROUND OF REDWOOD TREETOPS AND BRIGHT BLUE SKY.  SOOS’S FACE IS TOO CLOSE AND HIS ARMS ARE EXTENDED; HE IS HOLDING THE CAMERA.  STRANGE CHIRPING NOISES COME FROM OFF SCREEN ON THE LEFT.  

MABEL Our second guest comes to us from a certain roof in Gravity Falls, Oregon.  Please welcome – Soos!

SOOS Hi, Mr. Pineses!  Can I give shoutouts?  Is that allowed?  

MABEL Absolutely! Can you tell us about the new addition to your family?

SOOS Oh, sure!

CAMERA SWINGS ERRATICALLY AND STOPS ON A MASSIVE NEST SITTING ON THE ROOF. IN THE CENTER OF THE NEST IS A YOUNG PTERODACTYL THE SIZE OF A SEMI TRUCK, CURLED UP AND FAST ASLEEP.

SOOS Tada! We named him Kitten because he chases that little red laser around just like a quarter-ton kitten.  Aw, look –

ZOOM IN, FOCUS BLURS, THEN CLEARS ON A CLOSE-UP OF KITTEN’S FACE.  ITS FRONT CLAWS SCRABBLE LIGHTLY AGAINST THE NEST.  ITS UPPER LIP IS TWITCHING, REVEALING SHARP WHITE TEETH GLISTENING WITH SALIVA, AND ITS EYELIDS OPEN SLIGHTLY TO REVEAL GROTESQUELY ROLLING EYES.   

SOOS (Abnormally Loud Stage Whisper) He’s dreaming!

MABEL (Abnormally Loud Stage Whisper) How did he end up on the roof?

SOOSOh –

SWISH PAN ERRATICALLY BACK TO CLOSE-UP OF SOOS

SOOS So we think he was learning to fly and crash-landed on the lawn.  I got him to hold still long enough to fix his wing, and then we bonded over a housewarming barbeque, and by the time his mom showed up we were basically like brothers!  So he sleeps here during the day while his mom hunts and then they go home to the dino mines at night.  At least until his wing heals up.

MELODY (Off Screen) Soos! Don’t forget to wake up Kitten for his three o’ clock snack.  And no more gingerbread men!  We don’t want him getting ideas about the tourists!

SOOS You got it, honey!

LOUD SCREECHING FROM OFF SCREEN

SOOS(grinning)Uh-oh! Sounds like someone heard the word ‘snack’!  He’s so smart.

PAN TO KITTEN, WHO IS CRAWLING AWKWARDLY BUT RAPIDLY OUT OF HIS NEST.

KITTEN SCREECHES AND BITS OFF THE TOP HALF OF THE CHIMNEY.

SOOS Whoops! Those can’t be good for his teeth.  Put it down, Kitten, go on…

KITTEN (Chirps without letting go of chimney)

MABEL He’s like a puppy!  …A really scaly one.

SOOS Doooown…

KITTEN PAUSES.

KITTEN DROPS CHIMNEY.

CHIMNEY CRASHES THROUGH ROOF.

SOOS Good boy, Kitten!

CAMERA ANGLES DOWN TO A MASSIVE PILE OF TURKEY LEGS AT SOOS’S FEET.  HIS ARM ENTERS THE SCREEN’S FIELD OF VISION.  HE GRABS A CHICKEN LEG AND THROWS IT AT KITTEN WITH A GRUNT.  KITTEN’S HEAD SHOOTS OUT TEN FEET AND HE SNAPS IT UP IN ON GULP.  KITTEN CHIRPS FOR MORE, THEN SNEEZES SO HARD IT BLOWS THE REST OF THE CHIMNEY AWAY.

ABUELITA (Distant, rapid Spanish)

MELODY Soos!

SOOS I can fix it!

CUT TO INT. DIPPER AND MABEL’S BEDROOM – DAY MABEL IS NOW SITTING ON A ROLLING CHAIR AT A DESK.  A CORKBOARD OVER THE DESK IS COVERED IN NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS, MORE POSTCARDS, POST-IT NOTES, AND STRINGS OF RED YARN.  

MABEL (Squeezing her cheeks) Aw, that was adorable!  Guess I can’t say Dipper sneezes like a 'Kitten’ anymore!  HEY-OOOO!  

MABEL STANDS AND MOVES SLIGHTLY TO HER RIGHT, THE CAMERA FOLLOWING HER MOVEMENT.

MABEL And now for the final portion of the episode, please welcome Grunkle Ford, and his extensive knowledge of all things ocean and occult!

A LAPTOP RESTS ON THE DESK.  THE SCREEN IS FILLED WITH GREAT-UNCLE FORD’S FACE.  THE SLIVERS OF BACKGROUND ON EITHER SIDE SHOW BOAT RAILINGS AGAINST AN AZURE SEA AND SLIGHTLY CLOUDY SKY.  A SMALL DARK THREAD OF LAND TRACES THE HORIZON.  FORD IS WEARING A LIFE JACKET OVER A RED TURTLENECK AND LOOKS SLIGHTLY SUNBURNED, SMILING DIRECTLY AT THE CAMERA.

FORD Greetings, future scientists!

MABEL Grunkle Ford, what can you tell us about the supernatural families you’ve found in the Arctic Circle? 

FORD Actually most of the cryptids we’ve discovered on the ocean are solitary by virtue of their size alone.  A giant squid, for example, typically requires a hunting ground of one to two thousand square miles of open ocean just to sate its voracious appetite.  It’s quite rare for them to engage in anything we might call “socializing.”

STAN (Off Screen) Oi!

STAN ENTERS FROM THE LEFT, BENDING OVER TO SQUINT AT THE SCREEN.  FORD LEANS BACK SLIGHTLY, ANNOYED.

STAN Did I hear that right?  Is my irredeemable nerdbro actually talking about socializing?

FORD It’s science, Stanley!

STAN Whatever, this I gotta see.

MABEL We’re doing a segment on cryptid families!  Got anything to add?

STAN You tell 'em about the ghosts yet?

FORD (Looking uncomfortable) Not yet, but –

MABEL (excitedly) I wanna hear!  GHOST, GHOST, GHOST, GHOST –

LOUD BANGING SOUNDS FROM OFF SCREEN.  AFTER A CRASH, AN ELBOW AND A PARTIAL VIEW OF AN ELECTRONIC DEVICE APPEARS ON THE SCREEN.

DIPPER I’m here where’s the ghost?!

FORD(annoyed)Stan claims to have seen two of them on our visit to Vik i Myrdal.

DIPPER (confused) Huh? Vik what?

FORD A beach on the coast of Iceland, famous for its basaltic sand.  We were visiting primarily to study the petrified troll bodies just off the shore –

STAN Yeah yeah with the weird rocks, Ford was doing his science doodles or whatever, but that wasn’t the important part.  See, there was this massive cave in the cliffs that looked exactly like the place a pirate would hide his treasure –

FORD Not at high tide!

DIPPER What happened?

STAN Uh, turns out the waves around there get really bad.

FORD As in twenty feet high. I turned around, there was no Stan in sight, and cave was already half-flooded with water.  Luckily one of us followed the rule about wearing our scuba gear under our clothes.  I immediately dropped my equipment and dove in after him. I found him pinned under a pile of rocks several dozen meters into the cave.

MABEL Whoa, are you okay?

STAN (smirking) Fine, I’m not the one who got knocked out.

FORD You shoved me!

STAN The water shoved you!  Accidentally!  To keep falling rocks from hitting you!

DIPPER But what about the ghosts?

STAN So we’re stuck in the cave, right, and I’m trying to hold my breath, swim, and drag Sixer with me all at the same time, and the water’s smashing us around so much Ford’s underwater flashlight cracks and I’m thinking the next light I’m gonna see is the pearly gates.  And then I do see a light, and I swim toward it thinking it’s gotta be daylight, but it’s not getting any closer and all this fat was not helping me float.  And then a second light shows up and takes Sixer’s other arm and practically drags us outta there, and next thing you know we were back on the beach, and I look back just in time to see an outline of this guy and his wife watching us from the middle of the air next to the cave.  

MABEL Wow, they stuck together and not even death could part them.  That is so romantic!  

STAN Sure. Woulda grabbed a photo but there was a little matter of Sixer not breathin’ at the time.

FORD You should have taken the picture!  Thanks to the rocks falling, the end of the tunnel was completely blocked, and I was almost sure I saw fossilized cryptid bones inside.  Now we don’t have anything at all to prove supernatural activity occurred in the cave!

STAN The words you want are 'Thank you, Stanley, you’re the best brother ever.’

FORD Of course you are, that’s not the point!

STAN What? Wait –

DIPPER Why were there ghosts there in the first place?

FORD I didn’t know enough of the local language to inquire, but I suspect it may have something to do with the cryptid bones I glimpsed.  I suspect the couple’s death was somehow caused by the cryptid, but Stan’s account suggests that they’re poltergeists, and poltergeists generally don’t die violent deaths.

DIPPER What if the couple was keeping it as a pet?  Or maybe they could turn into the cryptid, like selkies?  The ghosts Stan saw might just have been their human versions!

FORD Brilliant hypothesis, Dipper!  Perhaps I was merely asking the wrong questions! Stan, quick, turn the boat around!

STAN No way, no, you literally died in that cave –

FORD Not permanently!  Besides, you’d have my back!

STAN That is so below the belt!

DIPPER Stan, are you crying?

STAN I got sea salt in my eye!

CAMERA PANS TO A CLOSE-UP OF MABEL, WHO IS LOOKING TO THE SIDE, BACK TOWARD THE COMPUTER SCREEN.  THE CONVERSATION CONTINUES IN THE BACKGROUND.  

MABEL We’ll leave them to their nerdery.   (Looks directly at camera.)   Families don’t have to be related, and they don’t even have to be the same species.  What’s important is that you show how much you care for each other, and spend time doing the same things, like getting thrown in a county jail or treating flamingopher bites.

BOTH STANS (Off Screen) That was ONE TIME!

A/N: After last week’s angst I NEEDED FLUFF so have some mabel/stan bonding over their adorably nerdy nerdbros!

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): Grunkle Stan

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): Grunkle Staaaaaaan

brassknucklegrunkle: what

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): Dipper’s hogging Anansi and I wanted to get

him to try on a sweater but he’s too busy doing ‘experiments’ with his

webbing

brassknucklegrunkle: the heck is anansi

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): He’s this smoking-hot six-inch-tall Spider

Person with little chocolate freckles and a big fluffy spider butt

brassknucklegrunkle: we really need to talk about your taste in boys

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): Dipper is hogging him and I’m so bored I

could die

brassknucklegrunkle: YOU'R bored

brassknucklegrunkle: try bein stuck on a boat in the middle of the ocean

with a guy who’s mostly interested in poking things that want to kill you

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): to be fair you do that too

brassknucklegrunkle: Hey, I poke things and run away

brassknucklegrunkle: HE WANTS TO STUDY WHAT THE

MONSTER LOOKS LIKE FROM THE INSIDE

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): Right?!  Last week Dipper found some kind

of raccoon with crab pinchers digging through our neighbor’s salami pile

and the first thing he wanted to do was poke it with a stick

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): I man I think it was a raccoon

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): Either way it could pinch harder than an old-

timey grandma

brassknucklegrunkle: That’s nothing.  Last week this little trash island

bumped up against our boat and it was covered with these little blue

singing things that numbed your face.

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): Why would they numb your face?

brassknucklegrunkle: They looked like mushrooms and i was sick of

fish okay?

brassknucklegrunkle: ANYWAY they were the food for this sea serpent

the size of a sky scraper, which was pretty cool until it ate a ton of the

mushrumbas rolled over and played dead

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): LIKE A LITTLE TEN-TON PUPPY?!!

brassknucklegrunkle: More like a conman with a million-dollar mark

brassknucklegrunkle: Ford was like OH LOOK DEAD CRYPTID

PERFECT FOR SCIENCE and leaped right into its mouth, started poking

at its teeth. I stayed on the boat until i saw its one eye rolling, I was

shouting at Ford to get out but he was doing his stupid genius thing and Ii

had to jump in there to save his sorry butt

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): NO WAY DID YOU DIE

brassknucklegrunkle: APPARENTLY BECAUSE IT STARTED

SWALLOWING

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): Uh oh

brassknucklegrunkle: Worst part I couldn’t even get a good guilt trip out

of it because halfway down the throat got claustrophobic

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): Ohhhhh bad

brassknucklegrunkle: I punched our way out and Ford didn’t get

flashbacks but he shut up for like an hour and not in a good way.  He

wanted to just hole up below deck with his nerd stuff but I was aafraid his

brain would panic so I gassed him out

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): ew

brassknucklegrunkle: YEAH BABY WHO ATE TOO MUCH CRAB

FOR BREAKFAST

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): I thought the point was NOT to freak him

out???

brassknucklegrunkle: Eh, I brought up all the nerd junk that wasn’t

nailed down and some coffee, he was fine,

brassknucklegrunkle: kinda reminded me of Dipper

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): Dipper’s not claustrophobic tho?

brassknucklegrunkle: Not that part, the anxious nerd part.  For the last

half of the summer sometimes I’d be coming up from the portal, frick that

is weird to say, and he’d be walking around the Shack muttering under his

breath but still asleep.  

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): uhhhh that’s probably from bill

brassknucklegrunkle: no, that was way before weirdmag

brassknucklegrunkle: wait

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): uh, yeah, Dipper kinda made a deal with

him? and Bill stole his body and tried to ruin my puppet show? that was

Bill in Dipper’s body you were filming, ahaha whoops???

brassknucklegrunkle: WHAT

brassknucklegrunkle: YOU CANNOT CUSS ON THIS WEBSITE

brassknucklegrunkle: YOU CANNOT CUSS ON THIS WEBSITE

brassknucklegrunkle: HE MADE A DEAL WITH YOU CANNOT

CUSS ON THIS WEBSITE BILL CIPHER BEHIND MY BACK AND

NEITHER OF YOU TOLD ME

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): sorry sorry sorry!  

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): I can airlift you brownies!  Full of guilt!  Guilt brownies!!  

brassknucklegrunkle: TOFFEE PEANUT BROWNIES IS HE STILL

SLEEPWALKING

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): It’s getting better I think??  

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): I wake up when he does that here because

our bed creaks and he’s only done it like twice, I hold his hands until he

wakes up and basically pump him full of hot chocolate with mountains of

whipped cream and so many colored sprinkles it turned into a rainbow

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): Although one time I woke up for a midnight

snack of sugar packets, as you do, and I heard Ford call him on Skybe and

they talked for a while

brassknucklegrunkle: I told him not to wake you two up

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): please, Dipper’s awake like all the time, he’s

practically an honorary vampire

brassknucklegrunkle: he’s pale enough

brassknucklegrunkle: i don’t get it, Ford knows he can talk to me, right?  

Why doesn’t he?

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): Aw, Grunkle Stan

brassknucklegrunkle: I mean we are literally the only two people around

for hundreds of miles and he still skybes with someone else, either that or

he’s doing more weird nerd stuff

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): Maybe that’s just his way of coping

sometimes?

brassknucklegrunkle: There are better ways of coping than jumping

feet-first down a sea serpent’s throat

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): okay point

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): Dipper’s like that too sometimes, he’s all

obsessed with Anansi and I want to hang out with him but I kind of feel

like I’m getting in the way.

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): Grunkle Stan, sometimes I get scared that

he’ll obsess over his nerd stuff so much that I’ll lose him even when he’s

sitting right next to me.

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): Grunkle stan what do I do

brassknucklegrunkle: first of all stop stress knitting

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): how did you

brassknucklegrunkle: knitting is fine stress knitting is knot

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): Hey-o!

brassknucklegrunkle: That’s my girl!  

brassknucklegrunkle: Okay second, that nerd can get so deep in his

nerdery he doesn’t even realize he’s ignoring you.  So what you need to do

is be as loud and obnoxious as possible to get his attention ,and once you

have it go do something you both love doing!

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): OH OH!!!  IDEA!!!

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): Dipper likes science and I like cooking,

right? I can ask Anansi if we can feed him colored powdered sugar and

see if his webbing turns into a rainbow!  It shall be a perfect smoothie

blend of art and weirdness!

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): Then Dipper will be like 'uuhhh that’s so cool

mabel I should’ve included you sooner’ and i can GUILT TRIP HIM

FOREVER

brassknucklegrunkle: Yes!  YESS!!  

brassknucklegrunkle: USE HIS OWN NERDERY AGAINST HIM

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): GRUNKLE STAN YOU SHOULD

TOTALLY TO THAT TOO!!!

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): Open a selkie-slash-mermaid dating services

so yu get hot dates and he gets to study weirdness!!

KOALA_PIG_QUEEN))): And then you can talk about your dates for

HOURS and he’ll have to listen to EVERY SINGLE DETAIL because it’s

SELKIE SCIENCE

brassknucklegrunkle: GENIUS

brassknucklegrunkle: Mabel sweetie you make me so proud

brassknucklegrunkle: Now go commit emotional blackmail, and don’t

forget to make me those brownies

Summary: Two warring insectoid societies turn the Pines’ backyard into a battlefield.  Mabel and Dipper care for an outcast from one of these societies, then realize that he is the key to ending the conflict.  

A/N:

Well this turned out way longer than expected.

And also way more intense??  I have trigger warnings, just in case!

We don’t see it, just the after effects, but our Cryptid Cutie got beat up by his society and made an outcast.

There’s a quick battle between cryptids at the end and someone’s limbs go crunch.  Nothing graphic, limbs are shown healed but a bit bent later.  It’s minor but it’s in there.

It was Saturday and the room was warm without being stuffy.  Mabel snuggled deeper into the covers.  Waddles was still sleeping, Dipper was mumbling dork words in his sleep, and she could hear her mom making Saturday pancakes in the kitchen.  She yawned and, without opening her eyes, reached under her pillow for a pre-breakfast snack of sugar packets.

They weren’t there.

Huh?

Blinking the sleep from her eyes, Mabel propped up her head and lifted the pillow.  No, they were there, only they’d been shoved to the edges of the mattress.  And every last one of them was empty!  They were as flat as Dipper’s bow tie after Waddles had sat on it!

Suddenly Mabel heard a hair-raising shriek from the kitchen, followed by a really loud crash.  Instantly she, Dipper, and Waddles ran down the hall.

“Mom!” Mabel called.  “Mom are you – what happened?”

Their mother was standing clear across the room, arms plastered to the fridge, staring bug-eyed at an open kitchen cabinet where they kept the flour and sugar.

“Uh, Mom?” Dipper asked.

“You – it – thing!” she said, pointing emphatically at the cabinet.  “I told you no more supernatural pets!  Especially hair eyeballs that go rooting through the sugar!”

“Hairy what now?!”

Mabel stifled a laugh.  She could already see the Grunkle-Ford-like gleam in her nerdbro’s eye.

Evidently their mother say it, too.  “Oh no you don’t.  Whatever it, we are not keeping it, you are marching it straight to the backyard and Mabel you make sure it actually gets there and doesn’t end up under the bed.”

Mabel gave her a thumbs-up, then grabbed two cereal bowls while Dipper grabbed a spatula and a ladle.  The two glanced at each other, nodded, then slowly approached the cabinet.  

The sugar container was already open.  They couldn’t see anything yet, but the piles of sugar were quivering ever so slightly, granules sliding down the sides of the snowy mini-dunes.  She held her breath. Dipper slowly extended the spatula…

“GREEEEE!”

The second the spatula touched it, a huge hairy eyeball sprang out of the sugar and zoomed straight for Dipper’s face.  He shouted and executed a terrific backhand, sending the ball of blurred fur right at Mabel. She caught it one bowl and clamped the other neatly on top.

“Tada!” she trilled.  “Thank you, thank you!”

“Did you see that, did you see?” Dipper said excitedly.  “I didn’t see any wings, do you think it’s another kind of eyebat, I only got a glimpse but –”

“Get. It.  OUT!”

They got.

They’d barely made it to the back porch when Dipper grabbed her arm.  “Wait wait, Mom didn’t say anything about recording it!  Just let me get my fish tank, we can trap it and I can make a video recording before we let it go!”

“Okay but then we’re actually letting it go, right?” Mabel said. “Because Mabel ain’t riskin’ her pancakes for an eyeball.”

“Yeah okay be right back!” He dashed into the house.

Mabel sighed and sat down, the bowls still in her hands.  Guess the pancakes would have to wait a little longer.  Waddles settled in next to her with an oink.   That was when she noticed it.  

Their backyard was a biggish square with low jasmine hedges on either side of the porch, one tree each against the left and right walls, and a nice spread of grass perfect for picnics and leaf-pile-jumping and the occasional mowing of crop circles (Dipper’s handiwork, she was 90% sure).  But somehow twin termite mounds had been created in each of the yard’s back corners, both of them over four feet tall and ringed with piles of dirt that made them look like tiny gopher playgrounds.

“Hmmm…I don’t suppose you had anything to do with that?” she asked the bowls.

To her surprise, she heard a very small but unmistakeable groan.

She hesitated.

Should I do it? she asked herself.

You should absolutely look at and nurture what is obviously the cutest fluffy kitten version of an eye bat ever to exist in the universe! (said herself).

“Welp, when I’m right I’m right!” Mabel said cheerfully.  She cracked open the lid –

The back door banged open.  “Okay, I got the tank, let’s – ack, Mabel, close the lid, close the lid!”

“Dipper, look!”

She held up the bottom bowl.  Cradled at its center was a creature six inches high, with a brown furry spider butt that turned seamlessly into the torso of a young human boy.  The butt part was complete with eight spider legs and a design on the back that looked exactly like an eye, and the boy part of him was a lean athlete’s build right down to his chiseled arms and back, with a sprinkle of chocolate-colored freckles under a pair of huge wounded innocent puppy dog eyes. Mabel’s heart wanted to burst right out of her chest and proclaim her undying love for him on the spot.

Only two things stopped her.  One, his muscular torso was covered in deep cuts and purple bruises, with his two front right legs were twisted at definitely broken-looking angles.  

Two, he was curled up as small as he could get, looking absolutely petrified.

“Oooookay,” Dipper said slowly.  “So, not an eyebat.”

“Dipper, I think we really hurt him,” Mabel said urgently.  “Can you get some floss and toothpicks or something?  For splints?”

“Well, sure, but a lot of spiders can be poisonous.  What if it bites you?”

“I won’t bite.”

He just whispered it, but it was so unexpected that Dipper jumped and Mabel nearly dropped the bowl.  Then she squealed so loudly both boys flinched and covered their ears.

“OMIGOSH YOU ARE SO CUUUUTE!  Don’t worry, we’re going to fix you right up and then we’ll go on dates but we’re from two different worlds so our romance could never last and we’ll be star crossed lovers it’s so ROMANTIC!”

“Interesting bedside manner,” Dipper said drily.  Then he turned to the spider. “Give me a second to get some first aid stuff.  Mabel, try not to plan the wedding while I’m gone.”

“I make no promises!”

She didn’t plan the wedding (out loud), but she did take care of the actual bandaging part, using tweezers to tie floss around splints made from toothpicks.  Waddles assisted her by oinking encouragement, and Dipper held up a magnifying glass for her to make it easier.  He also kept up a running conversation to distract her patient.

“So you are poisonous?”

“Yes,” Anansi said, a little breathless.  (He’d told them his name, but they didn’t have the extra vocal cords to pronounce it, and he’d agreed that this was a decent substitute.)  “But we don’t…generally bite…we coat our spears with it…”

“Who’s ‘we’?”

“The Spider-People.”

“Shoulda seen that coming.  But what do you need the spears for?”

“To fight…the Mantis-People…”  His face twisted.  “Please, is this almost finished?  This last splint really ow ow OW OW!”

“Done!” Mabel said quickly, sitting back.  “Sorry, I think I tugged the floss a bit when I cut it.  Better?”

“Much, thank you.”  Anansi got shakily to his feet.

“So I’m guessing those mounds over there, they’re for the Spider- and Mantis-People?” Dipper asked, nodding to the termite skyscrapers.

Anansi drew himself up to his full height (he looked so ruggedly angsty.)  “Yes.  This land belongs to the Spider-People, but it was stolen from our forefathers when they were tricked into signing the Contract.  We warriors have fought for generations to reclaim what is ours from the cowardly Mantis.”

“And the land you’re fighting for is…?”

Anansi glanced at the backyard.

Dipper groaned.  “Of course it is.  Look, Anansi, pretty sure we can persuade our mom to leave the yard alone, but we should really get you back before our mom gets antsy.  No insect pun intended.”

Mabel sighed, but she got up with Dipper as he scooped up Anansi and started towards the left-hand mound.

“Wait – NOT THAT WAY!” Anansi screeched.  “Those are the Mantis-People, they’ll kill me on sight!”

“Oh, oh!  Sorry.”  Dipper started toward the other mound.

“Not them either!  They – they’ll probably kill me, too.”

They both stopped short and stared at him.

“But what about your family?” Mabel asked.  “Even if you’re the lone wolf-spider type, every angst warrior needs a family!”

“But…I’m not a warrior.”  Anansi hung his head.  “Every time we fight the Mantises, all I do is run away.  My brother won’t even look at me anymore.  But all I really want to do is crawl up to the tallest mounds and listen to the stars, to write the poetry of a river, the whispers of a stone…I want to create beautiful works of art.  Like the Weaver.” He glanced up at Mabel, guilt written all over his face.

“The Weaver?  What’re you – oh, oh!  The sweaters!”  Then she gasped. “THE WISHING SWEATER!  The tiny writing, that was you!”

“Not so loud, please!” He thrust out both arms to quiet her and glanced anxiously at the mounds.  “Weaving is forbidden, no one else knows how!  If they heard you and realized I was here –”

“But you can’t stay in our house,” Dipper pointed out.  “It was an accident, but you got pretty banged up.”

“That wasn’t from –” He stopped short.  Mabel started to get a squirmy feeling in her stomach.

“Anansi,” Dipper said slowly, “I thought you said you ran away from battles.  How did you get all those other injuries?”

He swallowed.  “They…caught me weaving…”

Mabel gasped.  Tears filled her eyes and streamed down her cheeks.  She locked eyes with Dipper, who looked equally grim.

“You know what?  Never mind,” Mabel told him.  “You’re staying with us.  Dipper’s got an empty fish tank and Mom’s got two pounds of sugar she’ll probably toss out anyway.  And if anyone from anywhere tries to hurt you, he’ll have to get through me, Dipper, and a seriously adorable pig.”

Their mother was displeased.

But once Dipper and Mabel explained the story, she agreed to let him stay, as long as he mostly kept to their room to avoid her (or their dad) squishing him on accident.  She even went out to the pet store for little colored rocks, and then to the fabric store for a tiny pair of silver needles, so Mabel could teach him how to knit.  Within a day, Anansi had settled in and started Weaving like crazy.  His masterpiece was a web that stretched straight across the bedroom ceiling and glittered like an indoor Milky Way.

The yard was a different story.  Every day at dawn, the Mantises would climb to their tallest tower and read the Contract, a tiny Weaving no bigger than a butterfly wing, and read it aloud.  (Neither Dipper nor Mabel spoke Mantis, but somehow it still sounded smug.)  The Spiders would hear it and climb their towers and shout battle cries, and then the two sides would run down and clash in the middle like teeny-tiny titans.  The Mantises had blades on their forelegs, which made them excellent in hand-to-hand fighting, but the Spiders could throw spears the way Mabel threw bubble-themed parties.

Mabel tried to do her Lilliputian Peacemaker thing, but that ended just as badly as the first time.  The Mantises scraped up her ankles and her legs stung for hours from the Spider-People’s spears.  After that, Dipper tried to film some of the battle to show Grunkle Ford, but he stopped after just a few minutes.  

“It’s literally war,” he’d told Mabel, walking into their bedroom and staring at his camera.  “Literal, actual war.  It’s nothing like the movies.”

Anansi had turned away.

By the end of the week, Mabel and Dipper came home from school to find that their backyard had been pitted and cratered so much that it resembled the surface of the moon.  Dipper and Mabel glanced at each other and then hurried to their bedroom.

“Hey, Anansi?” Mabel called once they’d reached it.  He was sitting in his tank, staring at his sugar bowl, still full to the brim.

Dipper dropped his backpack with a thunk.  “Hey man. Listen, the battlefield’s getting pretty close to the house.  I don’t think anybody knows you’re here, but just in case, maybe you should start coming to school with us.”

Mabel nodded vigorously.  “Yeah!  You’d make a totally cute boyfriend-in-a-pocket accessory!  Or you could hang out  in the Art Room with Waddles.  You could spin a web over him as a commentary on the advertisement and consumerism in Sheryl’s Net! What do you think?”

He didn’t answer.

“Anansi…?”

Mabel looked closer.  Anansi wasn’t just sitting there.  He was all hunched over with his hair hanging over his face.  And she almost missed it, because he was so tiny, but his shoulders were definitely shaking.

He was crying.

“Oh, no, please don’t cry!”  She hurried to her dresser, grabbed a cotton ball and handed it to him to use as a tissue.  “Tell us what’s wrong, we can fix it!”

“I m-miss them,” he sobbed.  “They’d all k-kill me if they found me and I miss them anyway.  I can’t stop m-missing them.  I don’t even know if my b-brother’s still alive. I’m sorry, you’ve b-been so kind to me, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” He buried his whole face in the cotton.

Mabel’s heart squeezed and her eyes filled with tears.  “Oh, Anansi.”

Dipper started pacing.  “There’s gotta be some way to end the fighting. Or at least get them to accept you.  Just because the Mantises can Weave doesn’t mean…”  He slowed to a stop.  “Wait.  Anansi, how did you learn how to Weave if only the Mantises can do it?”

Anansi looked up, then down, twisting the cotton in his tiny fists. “I…when I went up to the tops of the towers…I didn’t mean to look, but they read the Contract every morning, so –”

Mabel gasped.  “You read the contract?”

“I didn’t mean to!  It was just there!  And then I noticed how some of the patterns matched the words –”

“Can you tell us what it says?” Dipper asked.

Anansi recited it instantly, word for word, but this time in English.  Mabel shook her head in disbelief.  Talk about a serious bookworm! Bookspider?  

Then Anansi got to the end of the Contract and both Dipper’s and Mabel’s eyes widened in realization.  When he was done, Dipper turned to look at her.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?”

She nodded, a fierce grin spreading over her face.  “Oh yeah.  Anansi, don’t worry about a thing.  The Mystery Twins – and pig – have a plan.”

The next morning was Saturday.  Dipper and Mabel waited at the back door, listening.  Anansi was hidden in the fluffy neck of Mabel’s sweater, under her hair.  

The Mantis leaders climbed their tallest termite tower, the Contract glittering in their scythe-hands like a creepy gem.  But just as their leader took a breath to read it, the twins burst through the door.

“CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!” Mabel roared.

The leader spun around so fast he nearly fell right off.  “Challenge?” he sputtered.  “What challenge?”

“The one at the end of the Contract,” Dipper said.  “The one where whoever wins three contests gets to amend any part of the Contract they want, or even nullify the whole thing.”

The Spider-People began crawling out of their mounds.  They’d been waiting, too, spears in hand, and were now staring back and forth between the twins and their sworn enemies.  

“The Challenge itself is null!” the Spider-Leader called out.  He was about as tall as the Mantis leader, but while the leader was thin with a turquoise shell, the leader was a bigger, buffer, way hairier version of Anansi.  “The entire Contract is a lie!  We refuse to be bound by any part of it.  Besides, it’s rigged in the Mantis’ favor! They get to decide all three of the contests!”

“You’re just unwilling to admit inferiority!” the Mantis leader bellowed. Instantly war cries went up from both sides.

“Wait wait wait!” Mabel said quickly, stepping between them.  “You guys are tearing up the land you want with all your fighting!  Plus our mom is pretty much ready to hose you guys.  The Challenge is the best way to end it.  Dipper and I can be your impartial judges.  And, and! The Spider-People get to pick one of the challenges!”

“No they don’t!” the Mantis leader screeched, just as the Spider guy yelled “ONE ISN’T FAIR!”

“Do you forfeit, then?” Dipper asked innocently.  “I mean, either side is allowed to invoke the Challenge.  If the other side decides not to accept, it would be a pretty cowardly defeat.”

Within seconds both sides had not only agreed but were throwing Challenge-based puns that would have made Grunkle Stan proud.  

The Mantises picked close-range combat for the fist trial.  Dipper brought out a breakfast tray to serve as the fighting area and each side chose a warrior.  The one from the Mantis side was extra-tall, at least eight inches, with a carapace the color of pale jade and scythes that were the envy of every sushi chef alive.  The warrior from the Spider side was so ruggedly handsome he could’ve been the cover for Gentlespider’s Quarterly, and his muscular body moved with a predator’s grace.

Anansi gasped and shivered against her neck.  “That’s my brother!” he whispered.

She swallowed and held up her hands.  “Okay!  You win if your opponent goes down for a count of ten.  No killing or you automatically lose.”

The Spider scowled darkly and the Mantis looked annoyed.  

“What if he’s jus a little bit dead?”

“No killing!  Ready – GO!”

Both warriors lunged.  Anansi’s brother dug a leg in the tray and swiveled his body in a half-circle so the Mantis’ own momentum carried him straight past, then karate-chopped Mantis in the neck joint.  But the Mantis threw his armored head back, trapping his hand between the head and the shell, then swung both scythes sideways, hard.  The spider’s front right legs snapped and he went down with a shout.

Dipper shouted and Mabel jumped to her feet.  

“I SAID NO KILLING!”

“You didn’t say anything about maiming,” the Mantis said smugly.

“That doesn’t – fine, whatever!  1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-you-win!  Now somebody please help him!”

Two of the Spiders moved forward, their faces stony, and helped their fallen comrade off the tray.  The Mantis side welcomed their warrior back with victory cries.  Anansi trembled against Mabel’s neck the whole time.  

The Spider leader stepped forward.  “The second contest…IS SPEAR THROWING!” he shouted, and cries of challenge went up from his people.  “Let the Encroachers see how well they fair against a skill they deem inferior!”

Once again, each side chose a warrior who stepped to the center of the tray.  The Mantises didn’t even make spears and had to borrow one, much to the vicious pleasure of the Spiders.  Both warriors had to throw the spear at the far wall as hard as they could, without hitting or hurting anyone on either side.  

The Spiders won.  It wasn’t even close.

Once both sides had sort-of-barely calmed down, Dipper indicated the Mantises to announce the final contest.  This was the trickiest part of the plan.  They were counting on the Mantises choosing a very specific task.  If they didn’t…

The Mantis leader smiled coldly.  “Let the Spiders’ fate hang on a skill that they themselves deem beneath them.  The tie breaker will be…WEAVING!”

“WHAT?!”

The Spiders shrieked so loudly the windows of the house actually rattled. After three minutes of yelling and insults, Dipper had to threaten the hose to get both sides to calm back down enough for an actual conversation.

“THE ENTIRE CONTEST WAS A SHAM!” the Spider leader screeched.  “YOU’VE BEEN ON THE MANTIS’ SIDE THE ENTIRE TIME!”

“YOU AGREED TO THE TERMS!” the Mantis leader screeched back.

“AND WE WERE DECEIVED AS YOU DECEIVED OUR FOREFATHERS!  WE’LL NEVER HONOR THIS CHALLENGE!”

“IS THAT A FORFEIT?!”

“THERE IS NO CHALLENGE IF THE CONTEST ITSELF IS A FRAUD!”

“You still agreed to the entire thing,” Dipper said, staring the Spider leader down.  “And it was discussed aloud, so you can’t blame messed-up Weaving for this one.  Only a coward would ignore the consequences of his own promise.”

“But we don’t even have a Weaver!”

“Yes you do,” Mabel said.

A quivering lump moved under Mabel’s sweater, across her shoulder, down her sleeve.  She held out her arm, and Anansi stepped out in the open at the center of the tray.

There was dead silence.  

Mabel had thought his people would start shouting again, but somehow this was so much worse.  They were staring at his back as though they could drill straight through it.

The Mantis leader smirked and gestured to a youngish-looking Weaver at his left.  “A youngling of our own will suffice for us,” he sneered.  “Though even our novices would outclass every last one of you.”

“The Weaving has to be a poem about peace,” Mabel said quickly, before the Spiders could start yelling again.  She took out her stop watch and held it up.  “Both sides have five minutes.  Begin.”

The spinners began immediately, with the Mantis spitting a thin stream of saliva into sticky string.  They started in the corners of the tray and worked their way toward the middle.  One minute ticked by, then two.  No one moved but the weavers.

At three minutes, though, the Mantises began to shift and mutter.  Where Anansi’s weaving was tight and even, his runes uniform, the other weaver’s loops were too tight or too loose, and there were little knots everywhere that ruined the symmetry.  

The timer buzzed.  

“The appearance means nothing!” the Mantis leader screamed.  “It is the words themselves that hold true power!”

“You’re right,” Mabel said.  “Weavers, if you please.”

The Mantis weaver stepped forward and read his poem.  The faint threads from the shadow grew under the weaving like a pool of lavender, and the knots glowed like stars.  It really was pretty.

Until Anansi stepped forward and read his poem.  The many delicate lines of his work seemed to shimmer and undulate like waves of grass. Then she realized the air above the weaving actually was shimmering.  Fresh greenery grew straight out of the threads, pouring over the sides of the tray, flowing across the broken earth until everything was covered in a fresh layer of moss and clover and tiny white flowers sparkling with dew.

“The Spiders win the Challenge!” Mabel called out, over the shouts on either side.  It took a while to get the Mantis leader to actually hand over the Contract.  Once the Spider leader had it in his hands, he ripped the whole thing in half.

“How are your legs doing?” Mabel asked.

It had been another whole week since the day of the Challenge.  The Mantises had left and the Spiders had stayed, although they mostly kept to their mound.  Anansi had retreated back to his tank in their bedroom.  He was currently working on a web over Waddle’s bed, just like the one in Sheryl’s Net.

He flexed his injured limbs.  “Better, thank you.  The bandages can come off soon.  Can I borrow the book again?  Human letters are so much harder than runes.  Too many curves.”

“Runes are human letters, too,” Dipper called from the bed.

Anansi actually rolled his eyes.  “Where do you think you got the runes?”

“Ohhhh were there tiny Norse Spider-People??  There were, weren’t there?  I bet they had tiny little Norse hats with horns and everything!”

Dipper sighed audibly.  “Mabel, real helmets didn’t have –”

Tap tap.

They looked up.  Three Spider-People stood at the windowsill.  

One of them was Anansi’s brother.  

Mabel glanced at him, checking, but he nodded so she went over and opened the window.

“We are here for the Weaver,” Anansi’s brother announced.  

“Uh, sure!”

“Not you.”  He right past her at Anansi.  “You.  Weaver.”

“Uh,” Dipper said, getting up.  

Anansi just sort of head-bobbed at them and skuttled awkwardly along the wall until he reached the sill.  Even with the brother’s legs still bent funny, he was at least an inch taller than Anansi and twice as muscular.  Dipper hurried to stand next to Mabel and she grabbed his shirtsleeve, watching anxiously.

“The Mantises are contesting our right to the other lands,” the brother announced, like he was giving a public speech.  His two escorts stared straight ahead like they were being graded on how well they resembled statues.  “They claim that the Challenge was only valid for the land where we won.  We will Challenge them again and again until their own laws turn against them.  Therefore, we will send Egglings from every tribe, and you will teach them Weaving.”

Anansi looked stunned.  “Teach – warriors?  Weaving?”

“Warriors do not learn Weaving,” one of the other Spiders snapped, his tone harsh.  Anansi’s mouth clicked shut.  Mabel stuck out her tongue and Dipper scowled.  

“We will send the first Eggling in a moonturn,” his brother continued, as if nothing had happened.  “I will relay further instructions at that time.  Prepare your lessons.  That is all.”

At once the other two spiders turned and scuttled away.  Anansi’s brother turned as well, then sort of half-stumbled, so that his two injured legs brushed Anansi’s.  Then he was gone.

“Nice guy,” Dipper said drily, moving to shut the window.

Mabel knelt down to put her face at Anansi’s level.  “Hey, you okay?”

“Fine,” Anansi said, all wide-eyed like a spider in the headlights.  He looked at the spot where his brother had touched him.  “I’m fine. I’m – I’m wonderful. Did you hear them?  Nobody called me a coward!  They want me to keep Weaving!  They want me to teach Weaving!”  He actually jumped five inches straight up, making Dipper jump back and bang his head on their bunk bed.  

“Sorry!” Anansi said, not actually looking sorry at all.

Mabel squealed and pinched her cheeks as hard as she could.  “Omigosh you are so cute when you’re all bouncy!”

“Uh-huh,” Dipper said, his eyes watering.  “Sorry to burst your bubble, but you realize we still have a problem.”

Mabel jumped to her feet.  “You’re right, the Spiders still haven’t embraced the true beauty of Weaving!  Grab your needles and spinneret-things, Anansi, we’re gonna make Weavings so great we’ll wow the spider-pants off every last Spider!”

“Not that,” Dipper said.  “I mean yes, obviously, but his brother just said he’d be sending a bunch of little baby spiders to hang out with Anansi.”

“So?”

“So – exactly how are we going to explain that to Mom?”

Summary: First, Stan is afraid that the kids don’t trust him. 

Then, he’s afraid that Mabel trusts more than he deserves, and he’s going to lose her because of it.

Word Count: ~1200

Warnings: none

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18951154

Not adhering to a particular @themonthofmaybel theme, but it’s definitely Mabel-centric so I’m going to count it! Also something of a Not What He Seems tribute, as well as a bit of a style experiment at points. I love my sweater-wearing daughter and all of her shooting star imagery.

Sagan said famously that we are all made of star stuff — but that shared heritage is more evident in some of us than others. Mabel Pines is one such person, from which the origins of all life’s shared building blocks shine through most brilliantly.

Stan watches helplessly as she clings to the shutdown switch, his back smashed up against a crumpled ventilation pipe that spews steam as his fez threatens to lift off his head. His stomach tries to climb into his throat once again, just like when he’d arrived back at the Mystery Shack with burning lungs and trembling legs only to find the vending machine swung wide open and the passageway exposed — dusty six-fingered handprints and all, laid bare after thirty long years for anyone to see.

Takes place after Dipper and Mabel have left the falls and started their school year.  Enjoy, doods!

“ANGELAAAAA!” Mabel sang at the top of her lungs.  And then promptly crashed into her on the school’s front steps.

Luckily Angela was a veteran of surprise Mabel Hugs and managed not to fall over.

“Hello, Mabel,” she gasped.  “I’m guessing you had an extra bowl of Sugar O’s?”

“Try four,” Dipper said, grinning apologetically as he caught up to them.  “She was up until 3 AM making that.”

“Making – whoa, Mabel, that is beautiful!”

Mabel laughed and twirled on the spot.  Her brand-new sweater was a cashmere blend the color of a rosy dawn, soft as kitten breath, with a hem that flared out like flower petals as she spun.  It even seemed to shimmer a little, although Mabel was pretty sure that was just a sugar high side effect.

“And that’s not even the best part!” Mabel said.  She stopped spinning and held out her arms.  “Tada!”

Angela gasped.

The body of the sweater had the usual perfectly even braiding, but Mabel had sewn two words in Old Norse Runes into either sleeve, courtesy of Angela, who was a serious Norse Nerd.  She even carried around a set of runes for fortune-telling in her big canvas bag.  

“That’s why you wanted my Old Norse dictionary!”

“What do they say?” Dipper asked, leaning forward.

“That one’s ‘wish’ and that one’s 'truth’ and I will buy this sweater from you right now do you take cookies as payment?”

By the time they reached Mrs. Pierce’s class, Mabel had agreed to knit three sweaters for Angela, each with different runes, in exchange for three batches of brownies and an Unlimited Smoothie Stamp Card from Blizzard’s.  

The rest of the class was already filing in after them.  Several of them were loaded down with parkas, scarves, and mittens, because despite the still-summer weather, Mrs. Pierce liked to keep the room at a chilly 52 degrees.  

“This was room temperature in Alaska and we liked it!” she’d tell them.

“Oh – sorry!” Mabel said, accidentally bumping into Ximena on her way to her desk.  Mabel really liked Ximena – she always made sure everybody got included on the playground and told awesome jokes, mostly puns so bad they were practically Stan-worthy.

But today, she didn’t even look up.  Just grunted.

Chris, who sat next to Ximena, snickered under his breath.  “Troll, meet Tree.  You two make a cute couple.”

Mabel scowled.  “Leaver her alone, Chris.”

“Or what, you gonna sic your pig on me?  Huh?!”

“Forget it,” Dipper said sharply.  He put one arm around Mabel’s shoulders and guided her to her desk.  “You okay?”

“Yeah, but did you see Ximena?” Mabel glanced back.  She was hunched over with her head hanging low.  “She looks seriously bummed out.  I bet she’s upset it’s always so cold and we can’t even make any snowmen…hey Dipper, do you think we could build a snow machine!?”

“It would probably melt, it’s not technically freezing in here.”

“It feels like it,” said three separate people.

“Okay, class!” Mrs. Pierce called out, striding into the room.  She immediately went to the thermostat and turned it down.  Everyone groaned.  “Now none of that!  It’s first thing in the morning and I won’t have people falling asleep!  Besides, this was room temperature in Alaska –”

“– and that was how we liked it,” the class changed.

“Correct! Now, homework out, please!”

Mabel took out her homework, glancing anxiously at Ximena.  She already had her workbook out and she was writing along with everyone else, but she was all hunched over and her dark brown hair hid her face like a curtain of pure angst.  Mabel tapped her chin.  She’d have to think of a pun even worse than Stan’s to cheer her up.  But what?

Mabel was still trying to think of something fifteen minutes into class. That’s when she automatically reached into her backpack for her thermos of hot chocolate – and then stopped when she realized she still wasn’t cold!

She looked around.  Everyone who’d brought a coat was bundled up, and Dipper was already taking sips of his own thermos.  Angela had thrown an actual blanket around her shoulders and was still shivering.  But Mabel wasn’t cold at all.  In fact, her whole body felt like she’d been napping in the sun with the world’s best pig!

It’s the sweater! she realized.  It had to be the cashmere, right?  But she hadn’t thought it would make her this toasty.  Even her bare legs were perfectly comfortable.

Ximena, on the other hand, was wearing a thin T-shirt and had so many goosebumps Mabel could see them from two rows back.  Mabel grinned – sweaters were like hugs you could wear all the time, this would be the perfect way to cheer her up!

“Ximena!” she shout-whispered.  “Hey, Ximena!  Pst pst pssssst!”

“Shut up, Tree Sap,” Chris growled at her.

She stuck her tongue out at him and waved instead.  Finally Ximena looked over.  

Mabel whipped off her sweater and held it out.  The cold instantly stung her arms and numbed her fingers, but Ximena took it with a nod and put it on.  Mabel sat back, smiling happily.  Being warm would make her feel better right away!

She returned to the worksheet she was currently doodling on.  Her fingers were tingly and se was debating on the best way to warm them when Ximena let out a tiny sneeze.

“Bless you,” she said automatically.

Dipper leaned across the aisle, tapped Mabel’s shoulder, and mouthed “Cold enough for ya?”

She mimed becoming an ice cube and they both grinned.

Ximena sneezed again.

“Bless you,” said Mabel, the teacher, and a few other students.  Chris glared at her like the sneeze had been a personal insult.  Mabel rolled her eyes.  Now there was a permanent case of the grumpy-grumps.  

Ximena sneezed harder.

Mrs. Pierce turned away from the board.  “Ximena, if you need a tissue, they’re – what on earth?!”

Ximena sneezed, and kept sneezing, and every time she did a spray of soap bubbles came streaming out of her nose!

Several students actually jumped up with shouts of surprised, leaning away. By now Ximena was sneezing nonstop and she was almost completely hidden behind a cloud of iridescent soapy goodness.

“Snot bubbles!” Chris shouted.

“Chris, that’s enough!  Ximena, if you thought it was funny to bring bubble toys to class –”

“I di – achoo! – didn’t bring – achoo!  ACHOO!”

She started sneezing so hard she clawed at her chest.  Mabel and Dipper instantly rushed to help.  She yanked the sweater off and Dipper made her sit back down with her head tilted back, just a little, to open her airways.  

Nathan leaned forward, waving the sinking bubbles away.  “Ximena?  Is she okay?”

“I’m fine,” Ximena gasped.  

Mabel winced.  “I’m sorry, it’s cashmere and wool, are you allergic to those?”

“What? No, I –”

“Betcha the Pig Princess rigged the sweater,” Chris said loudly.  “Either that or the two of them planned the whole prank!”

“We did not!” the two said hotly.

“That’s enough,” Mrs. Pierce cut in.  She was looking straight at Ximena and Mabel, her eyes cold.  “Nathan, please escort Ximena to the nurse’s office.  I’d like her checked out just in case.  When you come back, Ximena, I’d like a word with you after class – you too, Ms. Pines.”

“So how bad was it?” Angela asked.

She, Dipper, and Mabel were sitting down for lunch.  The weather was nice, so they’d decided to eat on the benches outside.

Mabel grimaced.  “We didn’t get in trouble, but I don’t think Chris’ comments helped that much.  He stuck around afterwards because he said he was a 'witness.’  Just because my pig ate his homework one time –”

“He’s a grade A jerk in general,” Dipper said sourly.  “Remember last year, with the Open House?  He nearly got Summer suspended and nobody could prove it was really him.  He just likes getting other people in trouble.”

Angela nodded.  “He sure turned on Ximena fast, and she looked more freaked out than anyone.  What the heck happened back there?”

Mabel shrugged miserably.  “I don’t know.  I was just trying to cheer her up, so I loaned her my sweater.”

“Hmmm.” Dipper eyed the offending sweater critically.  “Let me see that for a sec?”

“Sure, how come?”

“Actually, Angela, you take a look.  Are there any runes that were sewn in by accident?  I man there’s one rune that’s a straight line, so…”

“That’s ice, I don’t think – wait, look, there are extra runes!”

Mabel gasped.  “Where where where?!”

She and Dipper leaned forward, and Angela held it up to the light.  The cloth shimmered again, and this time Mabel could see tiny lines of silver thread criss-crossing in the narrow gaps between her stitches. The thread was as slender as a spider’s web and so delicate that it was nearly invisible, but as it caught the light Mabel saw that the thread spelled out actual runes!

“Whoa, okay, I didn’t do that,” Mabel said, still in awe.  “Wow, that stitching is amazing!  Look at that part, it’s got combo stitches in it!”

“What does it say?” Dipper pressed.

Angela spread the sweater for a better look.  “I’m not sure.  It uses runes, and I know I’m new at it, but this doesn’t even look like Old Norse.  It’s like a whole different language that just happens to use runes.  But if I had to guess, they’re spelling out something that made the sweater magic.”

“You gave me a magic sweater?”

They turned.  Ximena walked up to them, hands in her pockets with her shoulders hunched, Nathan right behind her.  

“Ximena!” Mabel shouted, leaping to her feet.  “Omigosh I’m so sorry about earlier, I was just trying to give you a sweater hug!”

“Yeah, uh, do you think you could tell the magic part to Mrs. Pierce?  I’ve kinda got a lot going on, I don’t want to get in trouble again.”

“Oh, gimme a break.”

Suddenly a fist shot over Mabel’s shoulder, grabbed the sweater, and yanked it out of Angela’s hands.

“Hey!”

Chris dangled the sweater out of reach, grinning maliciously.  “You want it?  Come and get it!  But no way is Mrs. Pierce gonna beweive it’s weawwy magic.”  He made his voice sound cutesy.  “Bubble Snot just pulled a prank and is sorry she didn’t get away with it.”

“Mabel’s not a liar,” Nathan snapped.  “And neither is Ximena, now give that back!”

They were starting to draw stares from other students.  Chris saw this as encouragement.  His grin widened and he waved the sweater in front of Chris’ nose.

“Oooh, someone’s mad I insulted his girlfriends!  Quit acting like you’re some big hero, you’re just embarrassing yourself.”

“How 'bout I’m acting like a decent human being?” Nathan made a grab for the sweater, but Chris yanked it away.

Dipper was half-standing, hands out to placate them.  “Okay, it’s not magic, alright?  Just give it back.”  

“Yes it is,” Ximena insisted.  “I didn’t pull a prank!”

“I know you didn’t and I’ll prove it.”  Nathan thrust out his hand. “Give me the sweater.”

Chris smirked.  “You want to a fashion fail?  Be my guest.”

He threw it at Nathan, who caught it and pulled it over his head.  Mabel grabbed Dipper’s jacket and squeezed, holding her breath.

Nothing happened.

After a few seconds Nathan pulled the front of his sweater over his nose and breathed in audibly, frowning.  Still nothing.

“See?” Chris sneered.  

“Well – well the sweater did something! Like Mabel just got some powdered whatever on it from her crafts by accident, right?  Mabel, tell him!”

He turned to her, gesturing to Chris – and a fountain of live fish suddenly flung out of his sleeve and hit Chris square in the chest. He went down with a yelp, covered in flopping salmon.  As soon as the fish hit the ground, though, they turned instantly into fish-shaped pastries.  Chris sat in the middle of the pile, fish goo still dripping from his clothes.

For a split second everyone was so quiet Mabel could’ve heard a mouse flick its cute button ears.  Then everyone started yelling at once.

“Did you see that, did you see?!”

“Lookit those things!”

“No way they’d all have fit in the sleeve!”

“– were actual fish a second ago, right?”

“Sweater’s not even wet!”

“It is magic,” Nathan said, stunned.  “I knew it, I told you it’s not Ximena’s fault!”

“Ohh, I wanna try!”

“Me next!  Me next!”

“Hold on a second!” Mabel called out, jumping to her feet, but it was way too late.  People were already crowding around the sweater, shouting and exclaiming and laughing with excitement as it was passed from person to person.  She turned to her brother.  “Dipper, a little help here?”

“Sweater…changes…abilities…per…user,” Dipper mumbled, scribbling in his quote-unquote “Journal” as fast as he could.  She groaned.

“Just ride it out,” Angela advised.  “Plus, honestly?  It looks like everybody’s having a blast.”

Mabel had to admit she was right.  Once they got their turn with the sweater people wiggled around, trying to activate the spell.  

One girl’s hair started changing colors according to her mood, another boy’s wristwatch turned into a tiny green garden snake that slithered up to his hair where it curled up and fell asleep.  Someone else was suddenly fluent in ASL, with the sweater sleeves growing slightly longer and covering their fingers to shape each sign.  There were squeals of excitement and laughter.

Mabel grinned.  The sweater was a great way to cheer everybody up!

Except…

She looked around.  Something still didn’t seem quite right.  The growing crowd?  No, people were so excited about what the sweater had done for them that no one tried to grab it back; they just shared stories with anyone who’d listen. The squashed fish pastries?  No, she could scoop those up for Waddles later, they wouldn’t go to waste.  

Wait.  The squish-fish were the only things on the ground.  Where was –

“MY TURN!” Chris shouted. He’d grabbed the sweater and stood in the middle of the crowd, his smile practically a snarl, flexing his fingers.  Everyone immediately backed away.  The laughter died instantly.  

“Oooh, that’s not good,” Mabel said.

His grin just got bigger. “Alright, losers, get ready to see what real power can do.”

“Wait!” Mabel shrieked.

But Michael leaned back and cocked an arm.  His fingers curled into fists.  Angela plunged her hand into her bag.  Just as his punch arced through the air, Angela yanked out a rune and shouted.

Something exploded.  Wind hit Mabel’s face so hard she was knocked back into Dipper, who went crashing into the bench.  Sand and grit flew through the air.  Mabel scrubbed her eyes and jumped to her feet.

It looked like Chris had been standing in an invisible cylinder which contained the worst of the explosion.  All the food and styrofoam trays around him had shot into the air, then rocketed back down, covering him in half-eaten turkey sandwiches, clotted tapioca pudding and Tropicola Juice packets.  The people closest to him had been knocked over, too, just out of range of the falling food.  Chris stood there, looking stunned, a few drops of ketchup dripping from his bangs.

“What is going on here?!”

Everyone scrambled to their feet.  A supervisor hurried over, looking almost as stunned as Chris.  “What was that explosion, why are you covered in condiments?!  This is not a modern art exhibit!”

“Chris threw the food,” Nathan said, loudly and clearly.  “Chris did it. The rest of us were clear of it.  He called us losers and told us to see what ’real power’ could do.”

“Is that true?”

The rest of the crowd nodded, murmuring their assents, backing away from Chris.

His face turned red.  “I didn’t – you – this is Mabel’s fault!” he shouted.

“No it’s not,” Dipper said coldly.  “First, she’s three yards away. Second, you’re completely covered in food; if she’d thrown it at you one side of you would be clean.  Third, everybody saw you do it.”

“Straight to the office, I think,” the supervisor said, her voice almost as cold as Dipper’s.  “I’d like a few students to come along with me and explain what happened.”

Nathan immediately volunteered, as did a couple other students.  The rest of the crowd dispersed, quietly and quickly.  The supervisor led the Nathan and the others away, with Chris in front, throwing poisonous looks over his shoulder.

“Oh, wait – my sweater!” Mabel cried.

Ximena cleared her throat and Mabel jumped.  “Sorry.  Just – look up.”

They looked.  The sweater had been blown straight up with the rest of the food.  It was slowly parachuting down, but as soon as Mabel saw it, one sleeve crumpled under it and it started to fall.  She stepped forward and caught it.

Her brother caught the look on her face.  “Mabel, c'mon, it’s not your fault.”

“It kind of is,” she said in a small voice.  “Fashion is supposed to bring people together, not tear them apart!”

“But you said you didn’t make the tiny thread part,” Angela pointed out. “Someone else did.  I think the tiny stuff made the 'wish’ and 'truth’ part come to life.”

Ximena looked like she’d been whacked in the face.  “What, really?  You’re saying it – fulfilled our wishes, or something?”

“I guess?”

“That makes sense,” Dipper said thoughtfully.  “I mean, Mabel was probably wishing to be warm, which explains why I didn’t see her shiver while she was wearing it.  I mean, that’s what I’d wish for in her class.  Plus, did you guys hear that kid with the snake?  He kept talking about how he always wanted a little pet he could fit in his pocket.”

“It was an adorable green noodle,” Mabel admitted, feeling a little better.  “And everyone was having a lot of fun with it.”

“Except Ximena,” Angela pointed out.  “And Chris.”

The four of them were quiet.

Dipper shook his head.  “I think we have to get rid of it, Mabel.”

“Wait,” Ximena said suddenly.  “Wait, just wait.”

Dipper looked surprised.  “But we can’t let someone get ahold of power like that.  If it hadn’t been for Angela’s spell, Chris could’ve really hurt somebody.”

“But that sweater used the wish to float off of him.  It didn’t do that for anybody else.  It can tell the difference between good wishes and bad!”

“It almost got you in trouble, though,” Mabel said.

Ximena hesitated.  “It…also kind of helped me out.  I just didn’t really get it until Angela said that thing about the wishes.”

“You wanted to sneeze bubbles?” Dipper asked.

“No, but – okay, my brother got this lesion on his spine, alright?  They removed it but it gave him dissociated sensory loss.  Like he can’t tell where his body is in space.  He’s getting therapy for it but it’s really discouraging, yesterday he up and quit.  He said he hated that he couldn’t even feed himself properly, he didn’t want his limits thrown in his face.”

Dipper and Angela looked stricken.  Mabel’s eyes filled with tears.

“That’s – that’s awful,” she whispered.

“Yeah, but here’s my point – I’d been sitting in class this morning thinking about him, I didn’t even notice that I’d put on somebody else’s sweater until bubbles started coming out of my nose.  And then just now it hit me!  My brother and I used to play bubbles all the time when we were little, we had those bubble kits and everything! If I got them out again, the bubbles would help him practice moving around, but it wouldn’t be physical therapy.  It’d just be us playing like we used to!”

Mabel squealed and threw both arms around Ximena.  Ximena, who was not used to the power of Mabel Hugs, promptly landed on her but.

“Ximena that’s so beautiful!”

“Uh – thank you?  Also ow.”

“Yeah, you’re pretty much stuck until she decides to let go,” Dipper told her.  “She’s like a koala.  Also, the bubble idea sounds perfect. Let us know if we can help.”

“Yeah!” Mabel broke away and pulled Ximena to her feet.  “We could have a bubble party!  With bubble wands the size of our heads!  And giant hamster balls so that we could pretend we were literally in the bubbles!”  

“I would go to that,” Angela said immediately.

Ximena laughed.  “You know, I might take you up on that when Leon’s feeling better, thanks.  So, the sweater?”

“KEEPING IT!” Mabel shouted.

“Yeah, okay, keeping it,” Dipper agreed.  “Ximena is right, this sweater helped people. We’ll save it for a rainy day.  We just need to be careful about who uses it, but this thing could still come in handy.”

Mabel’s face broke into a wide grin.  “Excellent!  I have the perfect hiding spot for it!”

“Mabel, you cannot label your craft box 'perfect hiding spot’ solely to keep saying that.”

(Click for bigger images!)

I promised I’d finally make a needle-felted Mabel for this year’s @themonthofmaybel, and I did! I made her extra smol for both practical and cuteness reasons, and ima be honest - even I was not prepared for the results. I almost had a heart attack when I started taking photos. ‘:D This craft was inspired by the scene from ‘Little Dipper’ where Gideon minimizes her and traps her in a bag of gummy koalas!

Bonus for an unlikely friendship in a martini glass:

(Psst - the Mabel Juice mug featured in the pics is available on Society6 and is designed by the username EnvyGreen! I won’t put a link here because of dumb Tumblr things, but kudos to the artist for the amazing prop <3)

@themonthofmaybel week 3: Living with your average nerdbro.

You know, this yarn has to come from somewhere…