Fighting For Control V2.0 [Gravity Falls Fanfiction] [STALLED]

You Haven't Been for a While

The dreams were empty. Nothing was there but yellow roses, shining brightly against a dark, unknown night sky. When Dipper woke, he stretched lazily, but happily and hopped out of bed, smiling in the most uncontrollable way. No bad dreams, and and he remembered it. Of course he was happy, who wouldn't be?

He hummed pleasingly as he slipped on his shirt and shorts, leaving his poofy vest in favour of more flexibility. His hat, just like each of the past few days, stayed on the nightstand quickly collecting a shallow sheen of dust.

It wasn't long before Mabel woke up to a weight bouncing on her chest repeatedly. "Mabel! There were no dreams and I'm sooo happy! Greet today with a huge, happy SMILE."

Mabel's eyes opened in a squint to see her brother's grin. She smiled, and apparently that was a good enough answer, because he was bouncing out of the room and flapping his arms like a bird. Free, in a way.

I can do this. Dipper thought, I've been such a jerk lately, but today is better. No- today is the best. I'll show them I'm fine. They don't have to worry. I'll be happy, for them.

乁(¬_¬)ㄏ

Stan's nose inhaled one moment, and the next it was filled with the unmistakable scent of meat. Ah, meat. The best smell to wake up to. It made him nostalgic, back in the old days he had an older brother he could look to for food. An early riser, too. Waking up to smell meat could only mean one thing... either Shermy is paying a very unexpected visit, or someone is making breakfast.

Stan jolted up. He groaned and mumbled nonsense about body pain before slipping on his slippers and shuffling out of his room. He sniffed the air comically before following the meaty scent to the only place it could have possibly come from. The kitchen.

As he got closer, he could hear music. Was that BABBA? He smiled like an old goof when he walked in to his nephew, (he didn't mention the pink frilled apron, his only concern being where he had gotten it from- last time he checked the only pink stuff that he had were in magazines or given to him by Mabel) swaying his hips and singing along to what was it called? Disco Queen? No matter whatever the song was called, Stan was happy his great nephew was far from whatever mood he was in before.

"Stan!" Dipper grinned, wow was that frightening, "Already have your plate riiight-" the boy put down a spatula and let go of the frying pan handle to pinpoint Stan's plate. "There!"

Stan's face brightened immediately. "Woah. Dipper, if I knew you could cook I would have had you making breakfast from the start!" He sat down, in front of him lay a fat stack of gorgeous golden pancakes. "Ey! Where's the protein?"

"Coming up, Grunkle Stan." One by one, Dipper rolled three greasy sausages onto his Grunkle's plate. Though concerned not by his apron, but Dipper's attitude, Stan brushed it aside until he had pure, hard evidence this was weird (and backup just in case).

"WOAH. Dip! These look amazing!" A piercing voice said. (...speaking of backup) Mabel. She laughed.

"Thanks! Want some?" Her brother asked cheerfully, the smile still as wide as ever on his face.

Mabel shivered, a little bothered by that smile, but smiled back anyways. "Heck yeah!" She slid into her usual spot on the table. "Doon't miind iif Ii doo~" she chimed.

A plate of pancakes, loaded up with sprinkles and syrup plus whatever sugary substances Dipper could find (the pancakes were less than visible)- was placed in front of her. She started to dig in, she hadn't noticed it at first, but when she looked up, she could clearly see Stan's face. She squinted with pursed lips at his look. He tilted his head towards Dipper. Was he signalling her?