is it bad that incest generally squicks me out and i hate it but i love pinecest so much
pinecest is fictional
pinecest is fictional
you lost me at dipper and mabel hate each other
i remember not so long ago clicking on one those pinecest-hate blogs thinking they might be jesuschrist reincarnated for all the self-righteousness they were pouring and i found nsfw art of grunkle stan and one of wendy’s friends lmao
talk about hypocrisy pffff
that fic is literally right underneath that post
you just gotta
shift your eyes downwards a little
but here’s a link anyway
I KNOW RIGHT
EVERY TIME YOU THINK YOU’VE WASHED YOUR HANDS OF IT
something drags you back in kicking and screaming
that is pinecest
it will never let you go
once you go down that road you’re just a goner
idontevendraw replied to your post “So I have this head canon that Mabel gets paranoid that people will know they’re siblings when they go out on dates so Dipper dies his hair so Mabel will be more comfortable and besides Mabel’s always had a thing for blondes”
what about just frosted tips
i’m laughing at how terrifying dipper dying his hair blonde sounds
i highly doubt he’d ever take that hit, sorry secret incestual relationship, a guy’s gotta draw the line somewhere
but if mabel was for some reason the more paranoid one i think she’d just i dunno
buy a fabulous wig/sunglasses combo and wear it herself
a wig no one would recognize her in
the ultimate disguise
wh-what like, like you’ve never do-burp-ne anything morally ambig-burp-uous mr, mr i have sex with robots, and, and and spike girls’ drinks with love potion crap to get them to /burp fall in love with my lame ass
gi, gimme a goddamn break morty
get off your
your moral high horse over there
it’s 4 in the morning and i have to work in 3.5 hours and i’m sitting here dwelling on a pinecest fic i read half an hour ago
..i dont regret this
i. what? yeah. I just wrote a 4000 word pinecest fic and I don’t even know. sort of sads ahead.
Whatup guys! So, this is sort of like a spinoff to the Marco-Polo fic, only this one is from Mabel’s POV and is probably when they’re 17ish…it’s got a bit more romance than other fics, I guess, so yeah! Maybe after this one I can actually start writing smut stuff haha who knows (i do, I know, and it’s going to happen :P ) anyway until then enjoy and stuff! Whoo!
Mabel slumped across the arm of the couch, fanning herself desperately. Bejezus, it was cray-cray hot, and for once it wasn’t just her. She was in her shortest-shorts and thinnest tank-top, and yeah, she could take those off and just walk around in her bikini, but she sort of hoped they’d be leaving soon and she wouldn’t have to get to that desperate measure.
Mabel sighed, frustrated, and wacked the chair with her fist, “Dipper! Come on, it’s already 11 and the pool’s going to be packed if we don’t get there soon!”
“I’m coming, I’m coming! Yeesh,”
“You said that like a bazillion and one times already!”
Seriously, she was melting her butt off out here! What was taking him so long? Grunkle Stan and Soos had given up and left half an hour ago and even though she’d valiantly defended Dippers honour and promised to wait until he was ready to leave, the copious amount of sweat that was dripping down her entire bod meant that she was sort of regretting that decision now.
“Okay, okay…” Dipper opened the door to the backroom, stepping out into their loungeroom.
She glanced over at her brother from her position on the armrest. He stood in front of her, wearing his usual mustard board-shorts that suddenly…didn’t seem one size too big, anymore. In fact, they were probably one size too small. At least one size too small. And that wasn’t the only thing that had changed, either. He’d stopped shaving as often over the summer and she definitely was digging this dishevelled look; and she couldn’t help but notice that he had lost those noodle arms. Yep. There was some definite tone there. She had no idea what from seeing as Dipper did as little physical activity as possible, but it was there alright. And his shoulders had broadened too…and…yep. That was a snail trail. There was definitely a snail trail happening there. Mabel tried her best not to follow it down, but it was pretty hard not when he was wearing those shorts, and –
“Mabel, can you please stop staring?”
She felt pink start to creep across her cheeks. Oh, crud.
Hokay so she wasn’t sure when this freaky-deaky kinda-digging-her-own-brother thing actually started, but she sure as heck knew that a shirtless Diper in one-size-too-small board-shorts was doing absolutely not helping the situation. And now he had noticed! Gah!
“Wowzer, broseph,” she said, in a way that hopefully came off as nonchalant, “You…ugh…sure have grown into those old shorts of yours! They’re practically short-shorts!”
She’d meant it as a joke to distract Dipper from her wandering gaze but he took it a lot more personally then she thought he would. Moaning, he made his way over to the couch, slumping down and pressing his face into his hands, “it’s awful, isn’t it.”
“Well…okay, so it may be a bit more revealing than the last time I saw you in them, but…I mean, it’s not terrible, Dipper.” It definitely wasn’t terrible for her, winkwink, nudgenudge, hatchy matchy – ugh, Mabel! Quit checking out your suddenly-way-hotter-than-you-already-thought brother. Or at least make it less awkward. Please.
“You should just go without me.”
“No! Dipper!” she tried not to pout, “you promised you’d come!”
“Look at me, Mabel! I can’t go like this!”
Mabel sighed, rising up from her armrest and sitting up, “Dipper, seriously don’t worry, okay? You look fine!”
Dipper finally takes his hands away from his face and looks at her – and, wow, they were a lot closer than she’d realised, actually – his brown eyes meet hers for the first time, and Mabel finally realises…how frustrated sad he looks. Her heart tightens.
“Dipper,” she says, her voice soft, “what’s up?”
“I just…I just feel like I look so stupid.”
“You don’t look stupid!”
“You don’t get it, Mabel,” he turns his face away, frustrated, “I’m not like you, okay? I don’t do sport or…or work out, or anything…and now, with these stupid damn shorts, I mean…I just feel like…ugh!” he buries his face into his hands again.
Without thinking, she reaches out and cups his face with her hands, gently moving it back towards her until their eyes meet, “I like how you look,” she whispers – and wait, woah there, inflection. Did you have to get all…weird and…and sensual, towards the end there?
She can hear his breath hitch, “You…you do?”
His voice was as soft as hers, and suddenly it seemed a lot hotter than it did before, and their bodies a lot closer. She knows she’s been holding his face in her palms for too long, but she’s not taking them away even though the annoying voice in her head is telling her to. She bites her lip and glances up to meet his eyes – their fixed on her. She feels the pink grow across her cheeks, and can see the same thing mirrored on his face. She can feel his breath, soft against her cheeks. She notices she’s staring at his lips. If this was anyone else, this would be the perfect opening, she’d just have to lean in a little more, a little bit closer, and their lips would be brushing against each other…
She snatches her hands away from his face, face bright red, and places them in her lap, averting her eyes from his and leaning back, “So! You think you’re ready to hit up the pool then, ye old broseph? My fellow broski? Dearest brother-guy? My favourite dude-bro?”
She clenched her fists in her lap. Ugh! What’s with all the word vomit, Mabel? Keep it together, girl! Keep it cool, keep it cool, you can pass this off as sisterly advice…
Dipper leaned back as well, and even though she’d liked being close to him, there was no denying that the relative coolness that followed was a complete and utter relief, “Ugh…yeah, I guess. If…if you’re sure I look okay.”
She turned her head back towards him and gave him a small smile, clapping him on the back, “You look great, bruh!” she jumped up off the couch before anything got too weird again, spinning around and placing her hands on her hips, “So, we ready to hit the road?”
“Yeah - ”
“Okay! Let’s do this!” she started fistpumping the air, turning away and making her way to the front door.
“Ugh…wait a second…”
Stopping mid fist-pump, Mabel turned around and looked at Dipper, perplexed. He sat awkwardly on the couch, one hand scratching his cheek, “umm, it’s just…ugh…before we leave…could you help put sunscreen on my back?”
Mabel blushed and closed her eyes, and prayed for strength from whatever sick fate-wielding god had decided to put her in this situation.