Adult Dipper Gravity Falls Novels & Stories

I scrambled back, my spine hitting the bathroom door. It hadn't clicked shut, so the second I leaned on it, it swung wide. The floor vanished. Gravity took over, and I started to go down, falling backward into the bathroom. "Ah—!" I clawed at the air, desperate for a handhold. My fingers clamped onto something cold and metallic. The sharp, heavy sound of a buckle snapping open echoed in the small space. My center of gravity was still failing, but then a literal iron bar of an arm slammed around my waist.

It brushes the petal. The deck plating beneath us groans. Wrenches upward into a sudden, miniature mountain range, pitching us sideways. Cups, tools, a stray aster plant float gently upwards, released from earthly bonds within a two-meter radius. The Gravity Concept drifts away, humming contentedly, leaving chaos in its wake.

I crawl to the hole and swing my legs out in front of me to slide down into the dark abyss. With a deep breath, I close my eyes and sink. My feet hit the dirt floor with a slight thud and I pitch forward, sticking my hands out to keep from falling.

Slowly, I shut my eyes and without a second thought, I fell backward and let gravity pull me down with great speed. To be continued…!

Throw me over his shoulder, slap my butt, and carry me away. If I could figure out how to get out of this void of midnight nothingness, then I was going to do just that. Stomp up to them and demand they fuck me with their cocks. I nodded. Made the vow into the ether. If I get out of here and back to them, that was the first thing I was going to do. Could a person fall if there was no gravity? I wondered after a moment. I didn't get that deep yucky slide in my belly that felt like I was falling. But I also didn't feel like I was zooming upwards either. Can I float in nothing?

I jump onto our polished banister like a deranged monkey, seeing as I switched to my satin lounger pants when I got home and slide down the curved wood to catch up with him. It’s faster than I expected due to its high gloss finish, and I can't really grip it, or I’ll slow down. Curled over, sliding backward, I meet the last set of steps at high velocity as he does and tumble sideways as the rail curves inwards and is no longer straight. My grip is awful, and I am catapulted, losing a sense of time and space. I come flying off at speed, shooting at him like a torpedo, knowing this was such a bad idea that it might get me killed. Gravity is not my friend, and my stomach lifts in my body as I a

Naturally, Eli wanted to know why. And naturally, Ms. Cham was more than happy to explain. She started going into details. “With normal air, the feather falls slowly because of air resistance,” she said. “Without air, only gravity acts significantly on both objects. Gravitational acceleration near Earth’s surface is about 9.8 meters per second squared for all objects regardless of mass.” Then Eli asked why the value was so precise because, according to him, “9.8 sounds suspiciously specific.” Honestly? Valid question.

With a powerful, synchronized shove, the heavy typewriter slipped out of its dark cavity in the underbelly, vanishing into the rushing shadow of the tall grass below with a muffled, heavy thud. ​An instant later, we followed the machine. I let go of the stabilizer bar, allowing the momentum to pitch me out from under the chassis. I dropped from the moving axle frames into the deep, weed-choked drainage ditches of the outer suburbs, my body rolling over and over through the cool, damp clay and thick elephant grass. The impact knocked the wind from my lungs, but the soft earth swallowed the violence of the fall.

They jumped. The feeling was not like falling. It was like being pulled through a straw. The gravity power caught them. It wrapped around their bodies like a invisible blanket. The air was thick with smoke. They shot past the floors of the hospital—the baby ward, the cafeteria, the library. All of it was now broken metal and dust. They hit the bottom with a sound. The gravity power had cushioned their landing. They were in the core room. It was glowing with a toxic orange light. In the center was the gravity engine. It was spinning fast it looked like a blur of light.

“This is Andrew. He will be your instructor for the hour.” Andrew gave a small bow to Julie, then turned to face the class. “This may seem like a strange way to start your morning, but trust me when I tell you that you will all be thanking me tomorrow. Motion does not work the same way in zero gravity as it does on Earth. If you unbuckle your harness and push off the wall as if you were on Earth, you’ll find yourself a human pinball, and you’ll likely take your team down with you. The smallest movements have a big impact.”