-walks into room, whipping off meh shades- guess who's back baby -u- Sorry this is not the one-shot you asked for, but maybe... just maybe, it's the one you all really need.

Lips Of a Stranger

.:.:.

By: Catxtopia

.:.:.

A small flashlight sat against the palms of Dippers hands as he flicked at the on/off switch along the plastic spine of the object. He lay with his back pressed firmly to his bed, staring with vibrant and alert eyes at the splintered ceiling above him.

It was just another Friday night in the small town of Gravity Falls. The majority of the town's folk were already nestled into their warm beds, or at least on their way to doing so. The streets were deserted of footsteps, even the woods were quiet and peaceful—or eerie, depends on your view of isolation. The point is, it was quiet, dead, inside and out. There were no lights in the windows, no children shouting along the streets, complete nothingness.

Well, except for within Dipper Pines bedroom.

A burst of light shattered the darkness as he slid the ridged switch towards the on label. His doe eyes scanned quickly over the shadows dancing out from around what little furniture harbored within the small room. But he wasn't paying all that much attention to the optical illusions forming from the device in his hands. He was rather entranced by the voice speaking somberly to him through his headphones.

"Locals have been reporting an increase in little-men-sightings. Said to wear pointy red hats, and occasionally stack each other into human disguises, a woman insists she witnessed them attempting to sneak into a movie theater last Tuesday night. She was standing in line behind them when their right leg handler tripped and they all scattered about like bowling pins—"

Dipper let out a small laugh, being sure to muffle it into the crook of his elbow so as to not wake anyone in the house. It wasn't like Mabel and Stan weren't already used to the boy staying up late to listen to the Dreamscapers radio show, but Dipper had enough audacity to at least be quiet about it. He didn't feel like being yelled at and/or getting his radio taken away like the last time he threw a laughing fit from something the cocky radio host had said—which happens quite often.

The Host—whom no one really knows the name of, he was called Cipher once by a guest and not soon after everyone collectively started calling him by that—was quite the character. If anything he was the biggest mystery out of the whole show, a show that revolves solely around supernatural happenings. It's assumed Cipher is a man, probably in his twenties, and living somewhere in the woods where no one could find him.

Dipper admired the man for his radioing talents as well as being able to keep up this whole façade, but the fanboy inside him really did wish he could meet Cipher. Or at least talk to him for that matter. He had so many questions, like how the man constantly found his stories, if he actually believed any of the things he was saying or if it was all bullshit—which Dipper really hoped wasn't the case.

There were tons of fans out there that listened to the show because Cipher sounded like some hot slice of hunk, but Dipper was more interested in the actual show. The supernatural, the unexplainable, he wanted knowledge of all the things Cipher did. This kind of stuff was practically his life—not only because he lived in the town constantly being broadcast about, but because he was an honest supernatural geek.

Sure he didn't work in some spice shop or was secretly dealing with the black market, but that didn't mean he wouldn't dive face first into it if he was offered the chance.

Till than he'd stick to listening to Cipher through his headphones and absorb all the news.

"Ah what a shame, it appears that this will be the conclusion of our chat tonight," The scratchy voice hummed. "Next week we will be picking from your own strange experiences. There is still a chance for you to submit your tales if you haven't yet, just go on over to and get writing, we'd love to hear from you. Alas, that's it for tonight folks. Don't forget, we're waaaatchiiing!~"

The voice slowly faded out as Everybody's Watching Me by The Neighborhood drowned out the speakers.

Dipper sighed and turned his flashlight off, smiling like a damn near idiot as he rolled over and yanked out his ear-buds. He pulled up the small portable radio—that'd been lying beside him—pushing down the off switch. Once everything was off, he wound his headphones around the device and sat it on his bedside table.

.:.:.

"You look terrible." Mabel mumbled around a mouth full of cheerios as she watched her brother slump onto the chair across from her.

He pulled over the cereal box and started dumping the tinny doughnut shaped treats into his bowl. "Thanks." He grumbled and tossed a few dry kernels into his mouth. Mabel had a point; her twin hadn't gotten much sleep after listening to Dreamscapers last night. He was too overwhelmed with thoughts of the unknown to shut his mind down. Thus, his skin was a bit paler than usual and the bags beneath his eyes were a bit more prominent.

"When do you go to work? You better freshen up a bit beforehand, you seriously look like death." Mabel pointed her spoon at Dipper accusingly.

"Its fine, I am just stacking books today so no one will have to look at my face." He remarked, "And I am supposed to be there in a half hour so I am kind of in a rush."

Mabel leveled the boy with an 'are you kidding me' look as she continued to eat. Obviously she cared a little bit more—a lot more—on appearance than her brother did. Dipper shrugged and poured a good amount of milk over his cereal before shoveling the food into his mouth. He hadn't the time to be bickered at, for fucks sake he barely had time to eat and run. Granted that would be his own fault for both staying up late and ignoring his alarm clock when it first went off.

The girl sighed and leaned back in her old wooden chair, "What did they talk about last night?" Mabel asked, mildly interested. No matter how harshly she denied it, she was also intrigued by strange things much like Dipper. They used to listen to the Dreamscapers show together till Mabel had to start focusing on her school work and social life—two things Dipper didn't have to deal with because he decided on skipping out on college and going straight to work.

"A lot of things, but mostly gnomes. I am pretty sure their gnomes…" Dipper waved his spoon around as he talked. "I mean, their small men with pointy hats! That spells gnome to me. Cipher is so vague about things, though."

Mabel smiled softly as she watched her brother ramble. She would never get tired of the excitement that'd light up in his eyes when she let him talk about his passions. Sure she wasn't all that into what he had to say, but he listened to her ramble about things all the time it was the least she could do to return the favor.

"So basically," Mabel started, slowly getting up with her empty bowl. "What you're saying is that the fan boy within you is getting stronger and you're about five steps away from confessing your undying love for a radio host?" She smirked and twirled around on her heels towards the kitchen sink.

"What the—I am not! How did you get that from gnomes!?" Dipper sputtered, nearly knocking over his bowl of mostly milk.

"To be fair, I don't blame you in the least. Cipher has a nice—maybe nice isn't the right word," She paused and tapped one long finger against her chin, "An almost hypnotic voice!" She finished with a point in her brothers direction.

"Just what's that supposed to mean?" Dipper asked, scooting away from the table and bringing his half eaten bowl of cereal over to the sink as well. He didn't feel very hungry anymore.

"It means he's hot, if his voice says anything to go by. He's like one big mystery just waiting to be unboxed and I know you're into that kind of stuff." Mabel shrugged. She took the bowl from Dippers hands and started cleaning both their dishes. Dipper grabbed a towel to help dry.

"That doesn't mean I am in love with him! I just like the show, god Mabel stop trying to make me your new romance project!"

"All I am saying is, you obsess over that show and are constantly talking about Cipher. From my experience in the field of loooove, that usually means you like someone."

"Or maybe I just like the show!"

"You're being so defensive."

"I am NOT being defensive!"

"Suuuure."

"Mabel!"

"Fine, fine, go take your uptight ass to work before you're late!" Mabel whirled around and flicked a handful of soapy water at her brother.

Dipper hissed and stumbled back like some sort of demon who'd just been hit with holly water. He was about to retort but decided against it, for it would do nothing for him. Instead he simply turned away, grabbed his jacket, keys, and wallet, and marched out of the house. 1000% done with Mabel.

.:.:.

The best part about working in a bookstore was probably the solitude. Everything was always so quiet, save for the occasional whistling of coffee machines from the small café in the corner of the place. It was calm and nice, practically a home away from home.

Dipper had to admit he got lucky snatching up a smooth sailing job like this one right out of high school. He'd been on the borderline about going to college, for he was lacking the knowledge of what exactly he even wanted to go back to school for. There was no career path he had in mind, so when the owner of the bookstore asked if he wanted a job, Dipper was on board.

Besides, he spent the majority of his time scouting out the place before even working there so he knew it like the back of his hand. It was his hang-out place, now it's his work. But he enjoyed it so it didn't really matter.

"Phew, done." Dipper mumbled under his breath as he stacked the last of the books he needed to put out on display. He patted his hands against his thighs, brushing off any dust that managed to cling to his pants while carrying boxes.

After tiding himself up, Dipper started collecting the few empty boxes left behind. He folded them carefully till they were flat, than tucked them beneath his arm and started towards the back again.

'Back and forth. Back and forth.' He thought to himself, eyeing the "employees only" sign hanging above the door in the distance. He walked this path so many times he could have probably done it blind folded and successfully avoided crashing into any bookshelves. Not that he was complaining. This was a job. Jobs may be boring and tiring to some extent but jobs were—

"Good Afternoon."

—jobs.

Dipper squinted at the door he was heading for, momentarily caught off guard as he heard a familiar metallic voice ring through the air. He furrowed his brows, 'someone must have switched radio stations' he thought briefly, because there was no way that voice would be heard from anything but a speaker system.

Granted it was kind of odd since that voice wasn't supposed to be on the radio right now. And more importantly, they didn't have a speaker system in this bookstore. And even more importantly, why does that voice keep ringing in my head with the attitude of an angry costumer?

Stumbling to a complete stop, Dipper turned his head to the side, catching glimpse of a rather annoyed looking man.

He watched with extreme confusing as the lips of the stranger moved in sync with the voice in his head. The voice that belonged on the radio. The voice that belonged to Cipher.

This stranger was…..

{the end.