Fluffy Cookies
Angelic Demon
The sun was set high as the Fynch family arrived at their new home in Gravity Falls, Oregon. Lylla could feel the heat through the windows once the car was turned off. Feeling like she was the next dessert in her old Easy-Bake Oven, she immediately removed her hoodie, revealing a white, noodle-strap cropped tank top. Lylla grabbed her little travel bag that sat in the seat next to her, which included her notebook, sketchbook, and a small amount of art supplies, before bolting out of the car before she could become a human cupcake.
"Come home when it gets dark, Ly, we still don't know if there are weirdos around," her father called after her.
"And say hello to the neighbors!" Her mother added. Of course. How could she forget? Lylla's expression fell a little from her already disappointed one, but she regained her composure and brought back her now always stoic look.
It never used to be this way. When Carson was alive, she smiled almost every minute of the day. When he wasn't with her, she had her face resting at the same expression she had now. However, whenever he showed up, her eyes lit up like New Year's. She misses that feeling.
Lylla swung her bag over her shoulder and tied her hoodie around her waist. She takes a step down her new, gravel drive-way, in the distance spotting a dirt one sprouting off. It was maybe about 200-300 feet from where she had previously stood. Not too far, she thought, I do hope they're nice and not snobby like our previous neighbors.
"'Oh I love it and I hate it at the same time, you and I drink the poison from the same vine," Lylla sang aloud as she walked, watching the trees. She had her earbuds in, not noticing someone listening to her voice, of course. "Oh I love it and I hate it at the same time, hidin' all of our sins from the daylight. From the daylight, runnin' from the daylight. From the daylight, runnin' from the daylight. Oh I love it and I hate it at the same time."
Soon, Lylla had reached the end of the dirt driveway. The end, meaning the front of a decent-sized house with 2 stories. "Mystery Shack" the sign on top had read. The "S" had fallen long ago, leaving behind a mossy, moist "S" where it had once been. Lylla blinked once, then twice, before her legs took her on a stroll around the outside to find the front door, rather than the door to the gift shop.
Once she found it, she cautiously knocked. A crash was heard coming from inside, followed by some yelling. 'Scolding in a loud tone' as Lylla had preferred to call it. The door opens to reveal a girl of sixteen with long, chocolate-brown hair and beautiful brown eyes to match. She wore a sweater with a kitten playing with a ball of yarn on it.
"Oh, hi! You must be the new neighbor girl Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford were talking about!" The girl cheered. Lylla nodded in response. "I like your hair, it's so cool!" At that comment, she was taken aback. No one except her brother and her parents ever complimented her hair. Her whiter-than-the-fresh-snowfall hair.
"Th-Thank you," Lylla smiled slightly.
"Oooh! You have an accent too! How sophisticated!"
"Mabel! Why don't you introduce yourself before you freak her out!?" A boy with the same features questions, opening the door further. His hair was shorter and half-ways hidden under a blue and white hat with a pine-tree on it. He wore an orange T-shirt under a navy-blue vest and a pair of shorts with sneakers.
"Oh, right, sorry," she nods, calming down a bit. "Hi, I'm Mabel, this is my twin brother Dipper. He's a bit of a nerd."
"Mabel!" Dipper scolded. Lylla snickered a little, causing a small blush to tint the boy's cheeks.
"I'm Lylla, it's nice to meet you both," the older girl smiled.
"Pinetree, Shooting-Star, who is it?" A male's voice calls from deep in the house. Dipper began to shut the door a little.
"Oh, shit, that's Bill, you better g-" He began, getting cut off by the door slamming open all the way. There stood a tall man with dark brown under-hair that had bright, lemon-yellow tips. It almost looked dyed. But at the same time, it HAD to be natural. He had a triangle eye patch over his right eye and wore a suit the same color as his hair with a slight brick pattern to it. Over his head was a slender top hat. By 'over', I mean it FLOATED above his head.
Lylla blinked once, then twice. She took in the man's appearance. He was... ravishing. She couldn't take her eyes off of him.
"Well, well, well," Bill smiled. More like smirked. "Who might this lovely little lady be?" At his question, Lylla blushed slightly.
"L-Lylla, Lylla Fynch," she answered with a slight stutter. Bill took her hand in his gloved one. Lylla's blush deepened in color. A small smile found its way across her face. It's been a while since she's felt that.
"So, what are you doing now?" Mabel asked Lylla who shrugged.
"I just have to be home by dark," she said.
"GREAT!" The younger girl cheered, pulling Lylla into the house.
"What's with all of the yelling?" An old man in a black tuxedo and a red fez asked. He wore a pair of broken glasses with a fake eye-patch over his left eye. It was for show, and Lylla could tell. "Oh, you must be the Fynch's daughter. I'm Stanley Pines, but you can call me Grunkle Stan."
"But, I'm not related to you..." Lylla trailed. The old man shrugged.
"Honestly, your parents are close enough, I don't care," he smiled. The eighteen-year-old nodded.
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A/N: Once again, feel free to comment and request things for upcoming chapters!
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>XX<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
"Come home when it gets dark, Ly, we still don't know if there are weirdos around," her father called after her.
"And say hello to the neighbors!" Her mother added. Of course. How could she forget? Lylla's expression fell a little from her already disappointed one, but she regained her composure and brought back her now always stoic look.
It never used to be this way. When Carson was alive, she smiled almost every minute of the day. When he wasn't with her, she had her face resting at the same expression she had now. However, whenever he showed up, her eyes lit up like New Year's. She misses that feeling.
Lylla swung her bag over her shoulder and tied her hoodie around her waist. She takes a step down her new, gravel drive-way, in the distance spotting a dirt one sprouting off. It was maybe about 200-300 feet from where she had previously stood. Not too far, she thought, I do hope they're nice and not snobby like our previous neighbors.
"'Oh I love it and I hate it at the same time, you and I drink the poison from the same vine," Lylla sang aloud as she walked, watching the trees. She had her earbuds in, not noticing someone listening to her voice, of course. "Oh I love it and I hate it at the same time, hidin' all of our sins from the daylight. From the daylight, runnin' from the daylight. From the daylight, runnin' from the daylight. Oh I love it and I hate it at the same time."
Soon, Lylla had reached the end of the dirt driveway. The end, meaning the front of a decent-sized house with 2 stories. "Mystery Shack" the sign on top had read. The "S" had fallen long ago, leaving behind a mossy, moist "S" where it had once been. Lylla blinked once, then twice, before her legs took her on a stroll around the outside to find the front door, rather than the door to the gift shop.
Once she found it, she cautiously knocked. A crash was heard coming from inside, followed by some yelling. 'Scolding in a loud tone' as Lylla had preferred to call it. The door opens to reveal a girl of sixteen with long, chocolate-brown hair and beautiful brown eyes to match. She wore a sweater with a kitten playing with a ball of yarn on it.
"Oh, hi! You must be the new neighbor girl Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford were talking about!" The girl cheered. Lylla nodded in response. "I like your hair, it's so cool!" At that comment, she was taken aback. No one except her brother and her parents ever complimented her hair. Her whiter-than-the-fresh-snowfall hair.
"Th-Thank you," Lylla smiled slightly.
"Oooh! You have an accent too! How sophisticated!"
"Mabel! Why don't you introduce yourself before you freak her out!?" A boy with the same features questions, opening the door further. His hair was shorter and half-ways hidden under a blue and white hat with a pine-tree on it. He wore an orange T-shirt under a navy-blue vest and a pair of shorts with sneakers.
"Oh, right, sorry," she nods, calming down a bit. "Hi, I'm Mabel, this is my twin brother Dipper. He's a bit of a nerd."
"Mabel!" Dipper scolded. Lylla snickered a little, causing a small blush to tint the boy's cheeks.
"I'm Lylla, it's nice to meet you both," the older girl smiled.
"Pinetree, Shooting-Star, who is it?" A male's voice calls from deep in the house. Dipper began to shut the door a little.
"Oh, shit, that's Bill, you better g-" He began, getting cut off by the door slamming open all the way. There stood a tall man with dark brown under-hair that had bright, lemon-yellow tips. It almost looked dyed. But at the same time, it HAD to be natural. He had a triangle eye patch over his right eye and wore a suit the same color as his hair with a slight brick pattern to it. Over his head was a slender top hat. By 'over', I mean it FLOATED above his head.
Lylla blinked once, then twice. She took in the man's appearance. He was... ravishing. She couldn't take her eyes off of him.
"Well, well, well," Bill smiled. More like smirked. "Who might this lovely little lady be?" At his question, Lylla blushed slightly.
"L-Lylla, Lylla Fynch," she answered with a slight stutter. Bill took her hand in his gloved one. Lylla's blush deepened in color. A small smile found its way across her face. It's been a while since she's felt that.
"So, what are you doing now?" Mabel asked Lylla who shrugged.
"I just have to be home by dark," she said.
"GREAT!" The younger girl cheered, pulling Lylla into the house.
"What's with all of the yelling?" An old man in a black tuxedo and a red fez asked. He wore a pair of broken glasses with a fake eye-patch over his left eye. It was for show, and Lylla could tell. "Oh, you must be the Fynch's daughter. I'm Stanley Pines, but you can call me Grunkle Stan."
"But, I'm not related to you..." Lylla trailed. The old man shrugged.
"Honestly, your parents are close enough, I don't care," he smiled. The eighteen-year-old nodded.
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A/N: Once again, feel free to comment and request things for upcoming chapters!
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>XX<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
