My Omniscient Aggrivator (Older Dipper X Reader X Human!Bill)

Chapter 10

Shortly after breakfast, Soos arrives, and Stan eagerly rushes us off to work.

"I'm guessing the mornings aren't busy?" I ask Dipper, quirking up an eyebrow as I motion to the empty gift shop.

"No, not typically, but it can get very busy by the end of the day. Ever since an incident a few years ago, the Mystery Shack has become pretty well-known among a lot of the states. I prop myself up by my elbows on the countertop, intrigued by this 'incident'.

"What was it?" I ask, piqued by curiosity.

"Nothing, really. Me and Mabel just kinda saved the world from utter destruction and took down a corrupt pipsqueak of a psychic. No big deal, really."

Mabel hears our conversation, walking over to the register. "You mean Gideon? Ugh, I remember that guy. He still texts me romantic poems no matter how many times I block his number!" She says, sticking out her tongue in disgust.

"Really? I thought he left you alone after I punched his eye." He says, eyes wide. She rolls her eyes.
"Oh please, Dipper, that hit barely even scratched him. You're too big of a weenie to really hurt anyone."

"No way! I do ten pushups a night. See?" He flexes his arm, showing what looks like a meager childish mound of muscle on his arm. I try to conceal my giggle, but fail miserably, as does Mabel.

"Are you serious?" I breathe, my laughter unfolding more and more. His face turns beet red, lowering his eyes to the wood floor in embarrassment.

"Dipper, ten pushups isn't neatly a tenth of how much other kids work out." Mabel says, turning her head to the bellchime of the door. A family of four walks in, each wearing identical Oredon t-shirts and tacky looking ballcaps. The two kids look eager to see the *mysteries* of the shop, while their parents look miserable behind the forced smiles plastered onto their sweaty faces. "GRUNKLE STAN! CUSTOMERS!" Mabel hollers, and Stan almost instantaneously bursts through the door.

"Welcome to the Mystery Shack! How may I take your money help you today?"

The father hands him some cash, asking for a tour. He leads them to the attractions, allowing the three of us to continue our lovely conversation.

"B-but anyways," Dipper presses, "I don't have the time to workout like they do. Their main focuses are on thinks like, you know, school and whatnot. Me? I'm an academic. I can't spend too much time focusing on stuff like that!" The last sentence seems defensive.

"Dipper, I think a hundred pushups takes about ten minutes to do." Mabel replies. He looks to me with pleading eyes. I shrug.

"A hundred situps takes me around five if I'm diligent, so it makes sense." I say with brutal honesty. His face falls as his cheeks gets redder. I hear Bill laughing in the back of my head, but I try ignore it. It fails.

I hope you know, darling, that this boy is more of a wimp than you bargained for.

Didn't he say that he saved the world or something? I mean, that typically is bs, but this town makes anything seem possible. I mean, just because he doesn't have muscle doesn't mean he's a wimp.

But did he really save it?

What do you mean?

​​​​​​ Our conversation is interrupting by the family walking into the giftshop, followed by Stan.
"Make sure to spend all of your money have a great day!" He says, leaving the room and placing the family into our hands. The kids zoom around the place, picking up various objects and wreaking havoc among the merchandise. Dipper spends about ten minutes hovering over them and picking up the strewn knicknacks until they're all ready to leave. At the register, I successfully do my job and wave to them as they leave. This job doesn't seem as bad as what I thought it would be.

​​​​​​