obwjam

[obwjam]

This isn't a question. Just wanted to tell you how much I enjoy your writing, especially the older Marvel GT, like the Bucky Barnes, and Peter Quill and a teenage borrower. Thanks!

😭😭😭 thank you so much omg!!! you really made my day with this, it warms my heart that people still enjoy those stories so much 🫶

[obwjam]

a small surprise part 5 (gravity falls g/t)

idk what it is about this project that's getting me to write so much but damn it, who am i to question it! i hope you're all enjoying!!

this story is now on ao3 if you prefer to read it that way!

part 1 • 2 • 3 • 4

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It was hard, but not as hard as Jay thought it would be.

She had always been curious about humans, more so than any borrower she’d ever known. It was part of the reason she was shunned from so many forest clans, but she hardly cared. If she was known as the house dweller, then so be it. She didn’t hide in cowardice and let fear control her life. She had a sense of adventure. She had freedom.

Perhaps that’s what drew her to Ford in the first place. She knew how dangerous humans could be, but she knew how to be careful. She could safely observe him from a distance – or so she thought. As it turned out, she really didn’t know what she was getting into with him, but she couldn’t look away. His curiosity and enthusiasm for the weird and unknown was downright infectious. And yeah, it was terrifying. But it was also exhilarating.

Stanley had this way of capturing her attention, too, though she still didn’t quite understand how. It certainly wasn’t his sparkling personality or his kindhearted generosity. It was… something more intangible. Maybe it was the way he was so beyond dedicated to fixing the portal, something he would be the first to admit made absolutely zero sense to him, to the point where he wouldn’t even realize – or care – that he was working nonstop through the night. Maybe it was the way he would very sloppily eat, leaving crumbs strewn about that he conveniently forgot to clean up, or he’d break off a piece of food and slowly push it across the table when he thought she wasn’t looking. Or maybe it was just because he’s the closest thing to Ford that Jay was ever going to see again.

So even after the entire incident, even when Jay couldn’t close her eyes without feeling an inexplicable pressure rushing down on her, even when she shook like it was minus 20 degrees, she didn’t run. She sure thought about it, but in her mind, if she wasn’t 100% committed, then she wasn’t going to do it, because a significant part of her didn’t want to leave the house. She had gotten so used to it, finally, a place she never had to leave or hide or worry. She supposed this is why borrowers were never supposed to meet humans – complacency and comfort were dangerous things. But she’d be damned if Ford’s stupid meathead of a brother drove her from the one place she finally felt at home. She had earned this. She had to be better than him. She had to get Ford back. And even if she did manage to get herself off the table without suffering a major injury, it would only be a matter of time before she needed to come out again for food and water.

Plus, it was the dead of winter, and living on her own without a proper shelter would be deadly. Maybe she could find a warm corner in the walls, far enough away from Stan that he’d never find her, but that was a lot of work she didn’t have the energy for. She briefly contemplated the attic, but quickly dismissed it. Too many triangles.

The day after the incident was, admittedly, rough. And awkward. Neither of them wanted to say a word to the other, but Stan was clearly surprised to see her still on the table come morning. Besides a very long stretch of eye contact, he barely acknowledged her, but was clearly nervous to make any sudden movements and produce any loud noises. Jay didn’t really know what to do, and she was effectively marooned on the table, so she curled up around the stack of books and continued to sit in turmoil about, well… everything. 

“You, uh, want to keep staying here for the night? On the table, I mean.”

Jay snapped back to attention. It felt like Stan had just gotten down here. He had been working for 10 nonstop hours. 

“Um.” She wasn’t expecting to speak today. Her lip trembled as she gazed up at him. “It’s fine.”

“Okay then,” Stan replied, voice as neutral as she’s ever heard it. He stared at her for a good, long while, trying to figure out what he’d do if he came back down here tomorrow and she was gone. She was looking back at him as if he was about to strike. “It’s just – you, uh, you’ve been sitting on that table for like, a week now.” Huh. Has it really been that long? “Just thought you might – I dunno, get bored or something. And it’s freezing down here.” 

“It’s fine,” she repeated after a moment, mostly because her brain was too fried to come up with more words. But she didn’t like what he was implying, anyway. If she was going to get off the table, it would be on her terms.

Stan felt a slight frustration bubble up inside him, and judging by the way she reacted, it was written all over his face. He gave a quick sigh and opened his mouth to speak, but found he didn’t really have anything to say, so he left in an uncomfortable silence.

Over the next few days, though, it got better. Conversations were few and far between, but Jay mostly watched him work. It was actually kind of mesmerizing, the way he moved around so effortlessly and had a kind of raw strength not even Ford possessed. He was lifting pieces of metal and pushing around gigantic barrels that the two scientists used to need all their combined strength to even budge. He had stopped asking her for help, instead burying his face in the journal in an attempt to understand it all by himself. How much good that did him, Jay couldn’t quite tell, but he had managed to put a lot of the broken pieces back together, even if nothing actually turned on. 

Today had started mostly quiet, but as the hours passed, the curse words became more frequent and the slamming down of tools became a common occurrence. Stan was hitting a wall. He needed a drink.

“Hey, short stack, where does Poindexter keep the extra drinks?”

Jay peeked an eye open. She didn’t even hear him reenter the room. Had she been asleep all this time? “Uh oh, don’t tell me you passed out again.”

Jay pushed herself up on shaky arms. She had been sleeping a lot lately... 

“Um, I’m fine. And, I dunno… the fridge?”

“The fridge is empty. Drank up all his sodas and… other beverages. I need to know where the extra cases are. Poindexter’s always stocked up.”

“Extra cases?” Jay was hesitant. This felt like a trick. “Wouldn’t it… just be what’s in the fridge?”

“Haven’t you seen this place? It’s ready for the apocalypse. Besides, you’ve been here longer than I have, right?” Stan asked rhetorically, pulling up the stool and plopping down above her. Jay recoiled a bit, but regained her composure with a curt nod. “Shouldn’t you know where he keeps things?”

“Yeah, well, I–” she stopped. “I mean, you saw him before he… you know.” Jay shuddered at the memory. “He wasn’t entirely himself. I dunno where he might have put stuff.”

“Yeah, he pointed a crossbow at my face after sending me a postcard to come see him,” Stan grumbled, crossing his arms. He had tried his hardest to avoid thinking about that night. “Even after all these years… it didn’t feel like my brother.”

Jay nodded somberly. “Yeah.”

A sharp silence fell over the two. Their minds both swirled with questions about Ford; their time knowing him seemed to perfectly fill in the gaps that existed within both their relationships. Ford never talked about his time pre-Gravity Falls, except while reminiscing about college. Stan could tell her all about that. And Jay knew everything he’d been up to out on the west coast. But neither wanted to ask the other, and neither wanted to admit they were curious. So the silence stretched out until Jay was forced to ask the obvious, more pressing question.

“Is there… no food left? At all?”

Stan sat still for a moment. “Not really.”

“Oh.” Jay fiddled with her fingers. “Shouldn’t you, um… go buy some more, then?”

Despite trying to be as delicate as possible, she knew she made a mistake the moment the words left her mouth. Normally, the comment wouldn’t have bothered Stan so much, but he was at his wit’s end today, and he wasn’t in the mood to be bossed around. When he got particularly frustrated, there was only one rule — don’t say anything provoking. Just smile and nod and agree with everything he says. Jay was still learning.

“What did you just say?”

Jay shook her head. “Nothing, I was just – I meant –”

“No, I don’t think you understand. You’re not in charge here, you realize that, right?” A shadow passed over Stan’s face, and Jay clung to the cloth to hide her trembles. “You can’t tell me what to do. Nobody tells me what to do. Ever. Got it?”

Jay nodded her head vigorously, her gaze flickering between Stan’s giant, angry face and his giant, twitchy hands. “Sorry, it’s just – I thought humans needed to eat every day, that’s all.”

Stan gave her a look she could only describe as baffled. “What?”

“I – I meant –” Jay stuttered, her expression reserved. “What’s confusing about that?”

“You just called me human.”

Jay was even more confused now. “Isn’t that – yeah, that’s what you are.”

“Well, yeah, I guess, but –” Stan stopped, unsure where to go from there. He could practically feel the gears in his brain turning, trying to figure out why she worded that so weirdly, when he remembered that word she called herself – borrower. Clearly, there was a distinction to her. “What, and you don’t have to eat every day?”

She shrugged sheepishly. “Not… really. I can go a while without food or water.”

“Huh.” Stan didn’t think it would be any different. He suddenly felt stupid for leaving her food crumbs every day.  “That’s, uh. That’s strange.”

Jay didn’t say anything. What could she say?

Stan cleared his throat after a moment. “Well, I’m, uh… I guess I gotta go get some groceries, then.”

Jay blinked until realizing Stan was waiting for a response. “Oh. Okay.”

He pressed his palms on the table on either side of her and stood up, nearly causing Jay to fall backwards. Instead, she simply gawked at him as he walked toward the exit.

He stopped, though, and turned back around to look at her. They both stared.

“What?” Jay finally asked.

“What?” Stan repeated.

“Why are you just staring at me?”

“You’re the one staring at me!”

“Well, yeah, I’m waiting for you to leave!”

“Why? What are you gonna do when I’m gone?”

“Nothing! You just said you were leaving! So I’m waiting!”

Stan peered at her, taking a step closer. “Now I don’t trust you.”

“Wh–what could I possibly do!” Jay cried, throwing her arms out.

“I dunno, but you’re crafty. And trust me, I would know.”

“C’mon, there’s nothing I could even–”

“What if you’ve just been waiting for me to leave, and you try and sabotage that journal? Or mess with the portal somehow? I can’t take that chance…”

Before Jay could even process what that meant, her entire world was swept out from under her. She felt a familiar pressure on her stomach and back, and the blood rushed to her head as Stan pinched her waist and lifted her into the air. For a moment, everything was blurry, and then, darkness. She was flipped upside down on her back like a bug, comically flailing her limbs to swing herself upright. She eventually reached forward and grasped something soft, pulling herself up to her knees.

She knew this feeling all too well.

Stan lurched forward, not stopping for a second, his mission apparent. Jay used all her strength to grip the lip of his pocket and pull herself up.

“STANLEY!!!” she yelled at the top of her lungs. “YOU CAN’T DO THIS! PUT ME BACK DOWN!”

Stan looked down – well, he tried to. All she could see was the underside of his chin, and all he could see was his red coat. 

“I can’t? Looks like I already did, kid,” he said mockingly. “If I can’t trust you to stay outta trouble, then you gotta come with me. Simple as that.”

“STAN–!” she would have yelled more, but she was thrown around when he stopped walking. “You can’t – I’m not supposed to –”

“If you’re worried someone’s gonna see you, trust me, they won’t,” he said, summoning the elevator. “I’m just goin’ into town for a minute and leaving. I don’t wanna be there long.”

“You don’t understand, people in this town, they’re –” she stopped, realizing her voice was shaking more than she wanted it to. “They’re – they’re too – curious for their own good, sometimes.”

“It’s cute of you to worry for me,” Stan said, stepping out onto the main floor. Jay squeaked in surprise as Stan gently pressed his finger down, pushing her fully into the pocket. “Now, pipe down unless you want everyone staring at us.”

“STAN!” she cried, but mainly out of frustration. He was right – she wanted no attention from those lunatics. But it wasn’t the fact that she was being brought into town that bothered her; it was that she was being brought into town against her will. In about 30 seconds, she had gone from sitting on the table by herself to being forcibly shoved into a dirty, smelly pocket. And it was dirty. Paper clips, lint balls, gum wrappers. Why was he even putting these things in his breast pocket, anyway? It was hard not to feel like just another piece of junk rattling around, destined to be forgotten.

Honestly, maybe it would be better to be forgotten. Why did Stan think she was going to do something to the portal? It’s not like she was never left alone down there. Some days, he actually remembered to go upstairs and sleep in an actual bed and not with his head down on the desk. Jay could have done anything during that time. But maybe trying to find logic in Stan’s actions was just a fruitless effort. He was just so – unpredictable. She never knew what he was going to say, how he was going to react. Any little thing could set him off. One second, he would be delicate, and the next, he’d grab her because he felt like it. She wasn’t sure how to work around that, or if she even could. 

The long trip gave her extra time to think, and her mind drifted to Ford. It was beginning to hit her that she may never see him again. Stan was admittedly noble for trying to figure out the portal, but it didn’t take Ford-level brains to see that he was probably not going to figure it out anytime soon, despite his efforts to make it work by sheer force. And he couldn’t seem to figure out if he actually wanted Jay’s help or just wanted to ride some kind of sadistic power trip over her. She figured he didn’t know, either.

She missed her playful banter with Ford. She missed when she would do something completely normal and he would treat it like a scientific breakthrough. She missed asking him about human stuff. She missed telling him all about borrowers as he excitedly jotted down, word-for-word, whatever she said. Ford was everything she knew a human could be. He cared about her struggles. Even if he didn’t fully understand, even if he didn’t always do the right thing, he tried, and that was all that mattered. And in all likelihood, she was never going to experience that again. Maybe it wasn’t meant to last more than a few years. Maybe that was all it was ever going to be.

High above her, Stan was caught up in his own turmoil. He tried to pretend that he wasn’t harboring a tiny being in his pocket, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t laser focused on the little weight in his pocket. He found himself wondering how it felt to be in there – carted around by a huge person, stuffed in a hot, tiny space. He would hate it. She probably did, too.

He couldn't decide if he liked her or thought she was disgusting. It was hard to imagine her being all that clean; but then again, he wasn’t exactly the shining example of hygiene. But she could get her little grimy hands all over his stuff! Like some kind of – little rat person. It all felt so unnatural. It was like having a pet he could talk to; but a pet with a really, really high IQ. 

Stan was a little baffled and a lot embarrassed at how much smarter she was than him. He supposed it was only natural after spending that much time with Ford, but it still made him angry. She was tiny. A pipsqueak! Stan could pin her down with one finger and almost no effort. She could get lost in the house and Stan would never be able to find her. How could something – someone – like that be so… observant? Astute? Sure of herself? It was just weird. Even in her moments of terror and confusion, she never came across as helpless, despite what she might think. If anything, she was intimidating at that size, carrying herself with a confidence that Stan knew he did not possess himself. And the way she reacted after the incident was nothing short of intriguing. Stan found it hard to care about people who weren’t himself, but the fear she exhibited in that moment of vulnerability surprised Stan so much that he couldn’t stop thinking about it. What had happened in her life to make her react like that? Stan knew she’d never tell him. But maybe one day, she would.

Suddenly, Jay’s vision was flooded with light, but all she could see was one of Stan’s massive eyes, peering at her, trying to make out her form. “You okay in there, short stuff?”

She was taken aback by the seemingly considerate question, so all she could do was nod. Stan barely saw it, but that was enough for him. “Good. We’re about to hit town.”

The next couple of hours were a blur. There was a lot of voices, a lot of stammering, a very fast heartbeat, and a lot of muffled protest. Just when Jay thought it was safe to peek out, there were no fewer than a dozen people following Stan back through town. And to her horror, he was leading them right back to the house, awkwardly trying to answer the questions thrown at him. Jay heard the familiar creak of the front door and nearly smacked her forehead. Why was he inviting them inside?! 

But not too long after, something in Stan’s demeanor changed. His body wasn’t rigid and nervous; it was pulsing with excitement. Jay’s stomach sank. This couldn’t be good.

Eventually, the noise stopped, and the voices died down. Whatever just happened, it was all over now.

“Oh, good, you’re still in there.”

Jay shut her eyes as light from the outside once again blinded her. She let out a squeak when Stan’s hand cupped her and lifted her into the air, holding her at eye level. Her heart was racing. He was beaming.

“Stanley…” she started, taking a moment to look around. Everyone else was gone, but she had to make sure this wasn't a trick. Stan’s hand twitched each time she pressed down on his palm with hers. “What just happened?”

“The best thing to ever happen to me just happened, kid!” Jay winced; he had never heard his voice so full of joy. “I mean, sure, those people? Total nutjobs. But they’re nutjobs with cash! Can you believe it? They want to pay for this junk!”

Jay was confused. “Pay for it?” 

“Didn’t you hear anything in there? I’m turnin’ this place into a tourist trap! We’re gonna be rich, tiny!”

Jay blinked. She had to suppress her desire to be sassy. None of this was making sense to her.

“Oh, don’t give me that look! It’s perfect! You can work on the portal during the day, then when I close up shop for the night, I can do all the stuff you can’t!” Stan tapped his chin. “Which is a lot, actually.”

Jay rolled her eyes, but he wasn’t done yet.

“Don’t you realize what this means? I’ll be able to buy us food, water, anything you want! We just have to fix this place up and get the word out, but if the tourists are even half as smart as the people in this town, that’ll be a piece of cake. Say, how does The Murder Hut sound to you?”

Jay stared, bewildered. Stan had this hunger in his eyes – the kind Ford used to get when he was on the verge of a breakthrough. But something still didn’t make sense to her.

“Hold on. I’m lost. You want to clean up the house and…”

“Make it a tourist trap, I already said that! People will come in, look at the stupid crap I set up, and then spend all their disposable income on gimmicky souvenirs! I’m sure all the weird stuff Ford’s been hoarding will–”

“Wait, wait. You mean… people, complete strangers, are just gonna be… wandering in and out of the house? All the time?”

Stan nodded with a grin. “Every day, baby!”

Jay was floored. That sounded insane! Ford wouldn’t want this! How could Stan even think to ruin his life’s work like that? And what if they discovered the portal?

“You can’t – this is Ford’s home! He built it from the ground up! This is is whole life! You can’t just–”

“Listen, kid, I know you don’t really know how this all works,” Stan cut in, trying not to get too angry. “But believe me when I say there is nothing we can do to get my brother back if I don’t have the money to keep the lights on. And right now, this is the best option I’ve got. All we have to do is move around some stuff and make this top floor like a museum. Nobody will ever go downstairs; it’ll be our little secret. Make sense?”

“A – museum?” Jay knew what that was. Humans would display artifacts and things they found interesting inside. And if Stan wanted to put all of Ford’s research on display… what would be more interesting for humans to look at than–

“Don’t worry, kid, I’m not gonna stick you in a display case,” Stan said, his usual snappiness pulled back just a touch. Holding her so close to him, it was painfully obvious when her mind wandered to the worst-case scenario. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

Jay wasn’t sure if she believed him, but she had no choice but to trust him. “I mean – thanks. But I just – I dunno, I…” She stole a glance at Stan’s face, but quickly looked away. God, he was so close. So big. “That’s a lot of people to hide from, you know?”

Stan sighed. He wanted to roll his eyes and tell her to stop whining, but the tug in his gut made him soften his expression. “I’ll make sure nobody sees you, kid. I promise.”

Jay didn’t know what to say. Stan had never sounded that sincere before.

“Look, I know you don’t think very highly of me, and I guess I haven’t done much to prove otherwise. But there is nothing I wouldn’t do for my family. So if it means rearranging my brother’s home, selling myself out for a quick buck, and worrying about some shrimp who can’t even walk across the room without my help… then I’m gonna do whatever it takes. This is the only way, Jay.”

Jay sat in silence for a long moment before letting out a long, drawn out sigh. How did Stan do this to her? How did he manage to make her feel okay about all this? How did she feel so safe in his hand right now? It must be a Pines thing.

Stan waited with bated breath for Jay to say something. Just when he concluded she might not say a thing, the unmistakable sound of her tiny voice hit his ears.

“The Murder Hut is a terrible name.”

Stan blinked. He was not expecting that. He stared at her – this tiny, remarkable little being, just sitting in his hand, legs crossed, arms pushing down, regarding him with equal amounts of wonder and disgust – and burst out laughing. She flinched at the sound at first, but soon found that she couldn't help herself. Laughter was contagious.

“What!” Stan said through chuckles. “How – how could you say that! It’s a great name!”

Jay couldn’t stop smiling. “Why would people want to go to a place advertising murder?”

“Oh, come on! It’s edgy, it’s mysterious. It’s what the people want.”

“If you want mystery… why not just name it, like, the Mystery Hut instead?”

“Oh, please! That’s… huh.” Stan thought about it for a moment. “That’s actually pretty good.”

Jay raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah! A mysteeeeerious old place, tucked away deeeeeep in the woods… a run-down shack, full of treasures, just waiting to be discovered! Are they even of this world? Come and find out!”

Jay giggled at his salesman voice. “Sounds like a place I’d want to visit.”

Stan found himself smiling at her amusement. “Heh, yeah, it does, doesn’t it?”

For the first time, the silence that fell over the two was comfortable, not suffocating.

“Alright, Stanley Pines. I’m trusting you here.”

Stan smirked. “Alright, Jay, uh… Jay Tiny. I won’t letcha down.”

“No, you really should.”

Stan furrowed his brow. “What?”

“Let me down. I’m getting dizzy up here.”

“Oh. Yeah, I’ve been holdin’ you up here for a while, huh?” I wonder how high up that looks. As gentle as he’s ever been, he lowered the tiny down to her familiar table. “There ya go.”

“Th-thanks,” she muttered, keeping her eyes down as she adjusted to the shift in perspective. 

“Now, you get some sleep, tiny. You’re gonna need all the energy you can get if we want to get this place cleaned up.” Stan paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “You, uh… you sure you don’t want me to take you upstairs? Check out Ford’s old room? Hang out with the human for a night?”

Jay smirked. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that, I just – Ford always thought it was funny, too. Found it fascinating that we had our own observations on human culture. I kinda forget that humans don’t call other humans humans.” She cleared her throat. She was talking too much. “But, uh, I’m alright. I’ll just stay here tonight.” She really didn’t want to go back in his hand. “I, um, might look at the journal some more. See if there’s something we’re missing.”

“Suit yourself,” Stan shrugged, though his tone suggested he was a little dismayed. “I’m gonna get some shut-eye. That was the most social interaction I’ve had in a year, and I’m beat.”

Jay gave him a soft smile. Though he brought this entire situation upon himself, it was clear this was weighing on him, too. He kept his promise about keeping her hidden all day, and that meant something to her. 

“Goodnight, Stanley.”

Stan turned around, still utterly bewildered at how someone who can blend into the surroundings on a tabletop could be a good companion for him. Maybe he needed to be a little more open-minded. Maybe, just maybe, this whole thing could be good for him.

“G’night, kiddo.”

[obwjam]

a small surprise part 4 (gravity falls g/t)

back with a new chapter!! parts 1 • 2 • 3

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The fist came down at an alarming speed, like it had materialized out of thin air. Jay was thrown backwards, and her head instantly smacked against the table, causing stars to pop in and out of her vision. The only thing she could hear was a faint, dull static, like her brain was a television that wasn’t getting a signal. Her heart was pounding so fast she thought it would break through her chest. She didn’t have the strength to push herself to her feet. All of her limbs felt like they were paralyzed.

“Shit!” Stan yelled. Oh, he instantly regretted it. He didn’t even realize what was happening until his fist had already connected with the table. His subconscious must have saved him from actually touching her, but he got pretty damn close. He blinked, blinked again, and fully realized he almost just killed somebody. 

Again.

“Oh, god, kid, are you alright?” He bent down, putting himself at eye level with the writhing tiny. “Kid? I’m sorry, I didn’t — I wasn’t tryin’ to hurt you, I just — got carried away, that’s all!” She wasn’t responding, so he began to reach his hand out toward her, ready to nudge her back to reality. 

“DON’T!” she screamed, louder than anything he’d ever heard before. She managed to scramble farther away from him. “PLEASE! I–I’M SORRY – I WON’T – P-PLEASE! Don’t…”

Stan’s expression shifted. He knew what this was. She was begging for her life. Something had switched inside of her. Something Stan was not expecting. His hands were shaking, and he was unsure what to do with them. He hovered awkwardly, watching, before realizing that he suddenly felt grossly uncomfortable looming over her. The sheer force of his fist caused her to fall over. She was barely as tall as it. Stan could pinch her between his fingers and never feel the weight. She was miniscule. How was any of this real?

Jay was too busy rolling in pain to notice, but Stan sat in total silence for 10 minutes, his mind racing to figure out what to do next. Maybe Poindexter has some kind of cheat sheet on her somewhere. Maybe all those secret codes were about her and he didn’t want her to read them. How does she even read, anyway? The letters must look huge. Focus, Stan, focus. Maybe she needs some water? But I don't want to move right now. I could just ask her. But I don’t want to talk again. My voice might shatter her eardrums.

Eventually, Jay came to. She had shut her eyes tight for a while, hoping the pain would melt away on its own. Soon enough, it did, but even with her senses thrown off, the feeling of being loomed over was incredibly persistent. She didn’t want to see Stan, so gigantic and destructive, towering over her after he just tried to murder her. And she certainly didn’t want to hear his smarmy jokes about her begging for her life – the embarrassment of that was beginning to hit her hard. How could she even be in the same room as him ever again, knowing she had become the helpless, controllable little thing he so clearly saw her as?

Stan, trying to stay patient and silent, was only increasing Jay’s anxiety more. Why was he just… sitting still? She dared to take a peek and only saw Stan’s massive elbows pressing on the tabletop, his torso so big it looked more like an endless wall. She wasn’t prepared to hear him speak.

“Look, kid, I–”

But he stopped as soon as her eyes met his. The shock of her expression sucked all the air from his lungs. Her face was red and puffy, her eyes burning from tears. She was staring at him in horror, like he was some kind of – some kind of monster. Someone who acts so callously toward other people’s feelings and needs. A killer. Now’s not the time for this! But Stan’s mind wouldn’t let him rest. Not even as his hand twitched in his lap, unable to stay still. He jumped when she jumped; he had no idea how she was able to pick up on that movement. Disoriented and filled with anxiety, Jay slowly scrambled backwards until she found a stack of books to dive behind for cover. Stan just watched. There was nothing he could do.

Jay pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly. Not being able to see Stan’s movements was probably a bad thing, but she couldn’t bear to be in his line of sight right now. She hadn’t cowered like this since first meeting Ford, and it all felt so eerily similar. Stan was just like Ford in as many ways as they differed – even if they didn’t share a face, she would be able to suss out their relation to each other. They both had this air of unpredictability and superiority, and Jay was now twice caught in the crosshairs. She had to get her hook. She had to get out of here. She had to…

Stan felt sick, just as he did in this very basement a week ago. It had been so long since he actually interacted with people, and he found that a lot of his survival instincts he prided himself on were not transferable to the real world; or even to tiny little people in the real world. Why did he think he needed to use violence to assert himself over someone as tall as a golf pencil? Why did she react so scared this time? Probably because you almost killed her. But nobody ever took him seriously. Why did she have to be different?

Stan sucked in a breath. Quit it, Stan. You can’t be doing this. But if he kept sitting there and staring at the books, he wouldn’t be able to stop. Fine. Then go work on the portal. Go be useful for once in your life.

It took Jay a while to notice he had left. She was too busy trying to stop her hands from shaking, and it took everything in her not to black out again from how fast the blood was rushing through her body. The sound of her own hyperventilating snapped her back to reality. For the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t even have any thoughts going through her head. It was completely, totally silent. She wasn’t even sure she could remember what words to use. But she eventually noticed that the vibe in the room had shifted considerably. The silence had become eerie, and the suffocating feeling was largely gone, replaced by an anxious panic. She hoped her senses weren’t betraying her, but a quick, subtle peek around the books confirmed that Stan was no longer sitting at the table, waiting for her to come out. She couldn’t see through the window, but a lot of clanging and a lot of cursing confirmed Stan had gone to work in the portal room.

Jay took the opportunity to finally stand up. She needed to grip the spine of the books to pull herself up because her legs were completely drained of energy. In a moment of panic, she thought she was maybe paralyzed from the incident, but she was able to take a few shaky steps. She blinked as her brain oriented itself, her eyes stinging, her world still turning. She didn’t quite understand why Stan had left the room, but she didn’t care. The only thing her brain had the capacity for right now was escape.

She stumbled over to her hooks, which were still woefully incomplete. Fuck it, she thought, wiping the sweat off her hands, I’ll just slide down the table leg – link these together, she managed to hook one piece of bent metal around the other with her trembling hands, then use this, she picked up, dropped, and picked up again what she had tied together for rope, and I’ll just wrap it around myself, and I can – I can – I just need –

Jay tried her best to assemble something that could get her safely down from the metal table, but she was trembling so hard that she could barely keep the hooks from slipping from her grip. And the more time she took, the more she panicked, and the more mistakes she made. The risk from falling from such a great height couldn’t be any worse than seeing Stan again. She had to hurry, quick, before he—

The stinging sound of scraping metal made Jay freeze so fast she could feel her blood turn cold. She was too numb to turn around, but having her back to him was even more terrifying. She slowly turned around, gripping her hooks so tight she thought she’d crush them.

Stan gaped back, eyes wide. It felt like he glitched temporarily before getting his ability to speak back. “Oh. You’re still here.”

She shrunk back, whimpering a bit and putting her hands in front of her chest in a protective position, tightening her white-knuckle grip on the hooks. She didn’t dare move an inch.

To her surprise, Stan, very slowly, lifted his hands up placatingly. “Don’t worry,” was all he managed to say in a scratchy, hoarse voice that barely sounded like his.

Jay couldn’t budge even if she wanted to. She was frozen.

“Oh. I see. The, uh, metal things,” Stan said clumsily, nudging his head at her hooks. “Yeah, I don’t blame you. I’d want to get out of my sight if I were you, too.”

Jay knitted her eyebrows. This was not the tone of voice she expected from him.

“Look, I didn’t – I didn’t mean to – I’m – I’m sorry, Jay,” he stumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. Her heart skipped a beat when he actually said her name. “You probably won’t forgive me, and that’s alright, I don’t deserve it. It’s just – my life hasn’t exactly been a walk in the park. I don’t always… handle things the best,” he said, sounding profoundly embarrassed at admitting such a thing. “Never have, and I guess I never will. I’m just the Pines family screw-up.”

Jay arched an eyebrow. Her mind was telling her this was all an act – a pity party to draw her back in so he could do something awful. But her gut kept asking one thing: Why would he need to do that?

After a few tense moments, Jay lowered her hands and loosened her hold on the hooks. Stan, taking this as a sign of trust, slowly sat down, pushing the stool back a bit to put some distance between them. Now Jay felt comfortable enough to inch backwards until her back hit the stack of books. She didn’t even blink, in case Stan did something again.

“I know Poin–uh, Ford didn’t tell you anything about me,” he began, wringing his hands together, “but I, uh, don’t exactly have the most admirable past.” He took a deep breath. Why was this so hard? “I’ve had to do a lot of lying, a lot of stealing, just to scrape by. I lived out of my car for a while. Hah, I don’t even know how Ford tracked down the motel room I was staying in to send me that postcard.” He stole a glance at Jay, who wore the same skeptical look on her face. “What I’m trying to say is, it’s been a while since I’ve had… company. Or been around people who weren’t convicted felons. And when I came here, I wasn’t expecting to see anyone else but Ford. And I sure as hell wasn’t expecting anyone three inches tall. So I guess what I’m tryin’ to say is, I just… need to remember how to act normal again.”

Jay was floored. The depth of sorrow in his voice was something she didn’t think a human was capable of. And as freaked out as she was, she could clearly see this was an attempt to reach out to her, to offer an olive branch without having to keep apologizing and reminding himself of the terrible thing he’d just done. He acted impulsively, and he knew it. Even after what he just did, he was making the effort to at least try and patch it up.

Ford did the exact same thing.

“I, uhm, I can relate. Kind of.” 

Stan’s eyes lit up for the briefest of moments at the sound of her voice. He didn’t think that would actually work. 

“Uhm..” Jay had to pause. This all felt so foreign to say. She had never related to a human about anything. “About the stealing part. And the not being used to company part.” Stan raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Jay sighed. Was she really about to do this?

“I’ve told you a bit about… borrower stuff,” she said, keeping it vague in the hopes that he forgot most of it. “A huge part of the lifestyle – probably the biggest part, really – is the… stealing from humans part.” She gave Stan a chance to insert a witty remark, but he stayed silent. “We basically take anything and everything we can get while they’re not looking. Food, supplies… whatever we can get our hands on. And it gets pretty lonely, because most of us – we travel in small groups, or pairs. It’s not safe to be in a big group. I’ve…” She debated if she wanted to say this, but judging from the small tidbits Stan had revealed, she guessed it wouldn’t be so embarrassing to him. “I’ve been on my own for a while. It’s – well, it’s hard to remember times with other borrowers. I could go weeks without speaking, and it – it would have been normal. This… this is all pretty new to me, too.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s new to me. I know how to handle myself,” Stan interjected, immediately regretting his defensive tone when he saw her exasperated expression. “I mean… that sounds like it was really tough on you.”

Jay huffed a laugh. “Yeah. It was.”

There was an awkward silence as both of them tried to figure out what to say next. Stan was remorseful, and a little freaked out, but he just wanted to feel okay with himself as quickly as possible. He could barely handle the nervous side-eye she was giving him right now, and he wasn’t even doing anything.

“Look, uh, you don’t have t’be scared of me, okay? I did somethin’ stupid, I know I did. I shouldn't have tried to – it was just a reaction. I’m used to havin’ to punch my way outta situations. Sometimes I forget how… tiny you are.” Jay felt her stomach sink at the direct call-out to her size, and she shrank even more as Stan peered at her. “Like, I could breathe on you and hurt you.”

Jay crossed her arms. “Yeah, okay, I get it. Weak and helpless.”

“Well, you’re a pipsqueak, that’s for sure,” Stan said callously before shaking his head. “But no, you – that’s not it, I just – I know this is weird for you, but come on, you gotta admit it’s even weirder for me. Up until a week ago, I didn’t even know something like you even existed. Now I’m talkin’ to a person who can fit in my hand, and you… you’ve been hangin’ around Ford for months. I’m just a… different version of him.” A stupider, worse version of him.

Jay thought about it for a moment. She hated to admit it, but he did have a point. Stan wasn’t the first giant she’s ever dealt with, but she was his first tiny. And he just lost his brother after not seeing him for a long, long time. That was a lot to deal with. She didn’t really know what Stan had been through, but judging from the way he spoke about it… it didn’t seem normal by human standards.

“...I know,” Jay said quietly, sheepishly, but Stan still heard. “And I’m… sorry, for riling you up. I said those things to make myself feel better, because – you may think I have this superiority complex thing, but I mean, how else am I supposed to compete? You… Ford, Fidds, you guys are gigantic. You can do things I can only dream of doing. Hell, you do things I can only dream of without even thinking about it. It’s… hard not to feel worthless in comparison. It’s hard to feel like I even matter.”

Jay immediately flushed red. Why on earth did she just say that? Why was she confiding in Stan? She was saying things she had never even told Ford. This is so embarrassing. He doesn’t care! He doesn’t have sympathy for you! 

But to Jay’s surprise, Stan didn’t laugh at her or make another joke about her size. Instead, he sighed. “Trust me. I know how that feels.” Jay’s look of pure surprise and skepticism told Stan he needed to elaborate. “You only knew my brother for a couplea months, but I spent my entire life with the guy. I grew up in Ford’s shadow. He was the smarty pants know-it-all twin, and I was the trouble-making, dumb twin. My folks cared more about Ford’s homework than whatever I was doing.” Stan stopped himself. The last thing he wanted to do right now was relive this. Why was he even saying this to her? “Hah. Looks like we’re more alike than we thought, pipsqueak.”

Jay crossed her arms. “Woah, let’s not get crazy now,” she said, slightly defensive. But her small smile betrayed her. Stan smiled in return.

“Hah, right.”

Stan rubbed the back of his neck, and after a few seconds of silence, he stood up, ready to leave and be done with this. He said his apology – he said more than he wanted to, in fact – and that was more than enough. The exhaustion was clearly getting to him. He’d slept maybe a total of 10 hours over the past five days. Yeah, that was it. He was just tired, not thinking straight. He needed a good night’s sleep. Maybe a day’s break from code-cracking and journal reading and tiny little people who could sit in his palm would do him some good.

He made his way toward the exit, but stopped at the threshold. Something was nagging at him, and he needed a clear head.

“You, uh… you gonna be alright, kid?”

Jay’s eyes lingered on Stan. Her heartbeat still felt elevated, her breath hitching every time his fingers twitched as he wrung his hands together. The thought of being picked up by him again made her head start rocking. It took everything she had to look up at him, and even then, she could only hold her gaze for a few seconds before the bile started to rise to her throat. She had to take a few concentrated breaths once she realized her breathing was still shaky.

“Yeah,” she said finally. She wasn’t sure how much she meant it.

“Okay,” Stan replied. He wasn’t sure how much he believed her.

Stan stood for a few moments, sorting through his feelings. Nothing about this felt real. It was all happening so fast. But he would go to sleep tonight and wake up in the morning and she’d still be here while Ford was gone. Just like it had been for the last week. Just like it was probably going to be for the foreseeable future. It was stupid, and unfair. But Stan was used to unfair.

He found himself staring, still unable to process how he could barely make out her form among the clutter of the table. If he didn’t know she was there, he wouldn’t have noticed her. He hated how much that freaked him out.

Ugh.

“I, uh, I guess I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

Jay stared straight ahead, then down to the table. Her hooks sat on either side of her. She had tied up enough rope. She had thought everything out. She knew the way out.

But then she looked back up. Stan leaned on the doorframe, hands in his pockets, his expression cautious, his eyes hopeful. He regarded her with curiosity, not disdain. He was waiting for an answer. She let out a long, deep sigh.

“Yeah, Stanley. I’ll see you in the morning.”

[obwjam]

hey have any Arcane gt headcanons?

i still havent seen arcane 😭 i should get on that since i know the new season is upon us

[obwjam]

hi!!! I’m on a Bucky Barnes fixation rn. Could you give me some head cannons on how he’d be with a tiny? 😭

omgggg it's been so long but let me do my best

firstly he would be SO confused. like he’d think he’s hallucinating. and then he’d realize he’s not and be like “well. guess this is happening now”

he doesnt get freaked out though bc cmon. what a life this man has lived. the talking raccoon was way weirder

he’d definitely be curious but he wouldn’t be invasive. in fact he’d fully leave them alone and give them their space

but he WOULD do stuff to try and coax them out. maybe leaving a very enticing piece of food out, but he’s stand there so unsubtly waiting for them

he’d be so delightfully awkward, trying not to startle them but also not really knowing what to say. the epitome of 🧍‍♂️

he WOULD call them really sweet pet names like doll and sweetheart and it would be unbearably cute

he’s lowkey (highkey) nervous about hurting them so he avoids touching or picking them up and it’s very obvious

most chill giant ever though. the tiny would be like “you dont mind me taking your stuff?” and he’d just shrug like “hey pal you live here too”

he would bond with a tiny about feeling out of place in society and they’d make fun of things they don’t understand together, like smartphones and the internet

EXTREMELY protective it’s not even funny. he is constantly looking out for things that could hurt them. guardian angel fr

[obwjam]

a small surprise part 3 (gravity falls g/t)

omgggggg i'm still doing this! i actually have so much written! i didn't think i'd get this far but i just can't stop. enjoy!

parts 1 and 2!

-------------------------

“Alright, shorty, where does this go?”

“Right there. In the – yeah, that one.”

“Are you sure? This doesn’t look right.”

“How would you possibly know what looks right?”

“Don’t question me! I can look at a picture and know what it’s supposed to be!”

“Diagram. It’s a diagram.”

“Psh. Whatever. S’just a word to make dumb nerds seem smarter than the rest of us.” 

“Pretty sure Ford is smarter than the rest of us.”

That’s how pretty much every conversation had gone today.

The first couple of days weren’t too bad, though it was mostly spent by Stan working on something alone until he remembered Jay was there. Sometimes, he would disappear into the portal room for hours, trying to get it back on by sheer willpower.

Now, it was day five – no, six – seven? – of the portal reactivation effort, and if Jay had to put a number on it, she’d say zero progress had been made. She was trying her best to honor this truce of sorts that they made, but it was becoming increasingly difficult as the days went on, especially the ways he’d mock their size difference. 

“Hey, hand me those pliers, won’tcha?” he would say, a wicked smile plastered on his face. Or he’d be sitting on the floor and pretend he couldn’t reach the table when he needed something. More than once, Jay threatened to drop something on his head, but that just seemed to make him laugh even harder. 

“Oh, c’mon, I’m just teasing you, tiny,” he would say, feigning innocence, and then he’d give her a hearty poke in the back and she’d stumble forward, often half-falling and needing her hands to stop her momentum. “Don’t take it so personal!”

“Easy for you to say,” she’d mumble, rubbing whatever part of her body was now sore.

“Take it from me, kid. When life punches you, you gotta punch back. Don’t be such a pushover.”

It was almost like he was giving advice to himself as much as he was lecturing Jay. She didn’t need to be told how to survive, least of all by a giant. 

Jay tried to keep her distance, offering up nuggets of wisdom where she could, but Stan was mostly dismissive of anything she had to say. 

Until she actually figured something out.

He was mindlessly flipping through the journal one day when he suddenly stormed off, presumably to find a soda, or something a little stronger. Curious as to what got him so mad, Jay trotted over to the open journal and ambled onto the page, setting her hands on her hips as she read over the impossibly large display.

Jay’s eyes scanned the page dutifully, trying to pick up the little things she learned from Ford. He had shown her that equations that seemed like a random amalgamation of letters, numbers and squiggles actually had meaning when you knew what stood for what.

That’s when she spotted it. It was a large, red W – something Ford called the “weirdness coefficient.” She didn’t know exactly what it was used for, but she actually recognized the string of data that succeeded it. She followed it along, running across the page a few times to get it all in her head. She was so distracted that she never noticed Stanley enter the room, drink in hand. The loud cracking of the can’s tab snapped her back to reality. 

“Ew,” Stan said, eyeing her with suspicion as he sat down. “Why are you so sweaty?”

“No! Don’t sit! You’ve gotta help me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I think I figured something out.”

Stan nearly spit out his drink. “You? Figuring something out? Hah, sure, and I’m a millionaire.”

“Don’t act so surprised,” Jay retorted. “It’s not like you’ve done anything.”

“It’s only been a couple of days, squirt. I’m just gettin’ started.”

Jay rolled her eyes. Stan’s machismo attitude was really unmatched. “Okay, well, can you hear me out on this one?” Stan took a long sip of his soda, then nodded. “Okay, you see this here? This big W? That’s the weirdness coefficient. It’s supposed to account for the average amount of weirdness – or, anomalies – that can leak through to this dimension at any given time. So this equation here, it stipulates the maximum amount of W – weirdness – that can be allowed through P, or the portal. So, we have to make sure the leakage output doesn’t exceed this number here.” She pointed to a bold number circled in red, looking up at Stan, a little winded from all the talking. 

Stan blinked. “I have no idea what you just said.”

She groaned. “It means we have to input this number,” she tapped it again for good measure, “into that machine over there.”

Stan squinted at her tiny arm pointing outward, trying to hide his amused smile. He turned around, then turned back. “How do you know that’s the right one?”

“I just know. I saw Ford using it a million times.”

“What if you’re wrong and we blow up the place?”

“Hey, if you don’t trust me, you can just say you don’t trust me.”

“Alright. I don’t trust you.”

“Okay, you weren’t actually supposed to say it,” Jay said, crossing her arms. “Come on! How can we work together if you won’t listen to me?”

Stan tapped his chin. He seemed to actually be thinking about it. “You bring up a valid point.”

“Yes, yes, I know. Now, could you put the number in?”

For the slightest moment, Stan hesitated. The inflection in her voice, and the authoritative way in which she spoke, sounded so much like Ford that it almost made him scream. Yes, yes, I know might as well have been his catchphrase. Stan tried really, really hard not to think about it, but for a nanosecond, his mind was filled with so much pain at the reminder of this little person spending so much time with Ford that she picked up on his speaking patterns that it made him want to curl up his fist and –

He stopped. Come on, Stan, you need her. You know you do. The sooner Ford is back, the sooner you’ll never have to see her again.

“Where am I putting it in, short stuff?” he finally asked. Jay tried to point him in the right direction, but even when he found the right knobs, he didn’t know how to do it correctly.

“Ugh, why don’t you just do it?” Stan sighed angrily.

Jay furrowed her brow. “This again? Are you serious?”

“Don't think this doesn't hurt my ego. But the only thing worse than having you do it is listening to you squeak about it,” Stan grumbled. “Now, c’mon, just do this so we can move on.”

Jay nervously laughed. He didn’t sound like he was joking. “Stanley, I don't know if you’ve noticed, but I can’t exactly walk over there and start pressing buttons.”

“What, I thought you wanted to be all self-sufficient? And didn’t you say you were good at climbing?”

Jay clenched her jaw. Maybe telling him little things about borrower life wasn't such a good idea. “Well, yeah, but I don’t – that would take a while, and I don’t think you want to wait. So just, listen, you just have to–”

“Nope! Not this again,” Stan declared. He took a few steps toward her and was now looming over her, hand twitching. She knew what he was about to do, but was powerless to stop it.

“Be – careful!” she yelped. She felt her arm bend uncomfortably against her body as Stan stuck his hand underneath her and lifted her into the air. She shut her eyes tight as the pressure in her head mounted. Even when they stopped moving, it didn’t feel like it.

Stan stared intently, wondering why she wasn’t moving. “Uh. You okay?”

His booming voice only made her ears ring more. It had to be 30 full seconds before she finally felt centered again. Her stomach dropped when she opened her eyes and saw just how far the ground was. Sure, she had been up higher, but the anxiety of sitting in Stan’s hand only exacerbated her unease. She never even felt 100% secure in Ford’s hand, given the way he would sometimes forget she was there. Fidds was the only one she felt remotely comfortable holding her.

“Tiny? Hello?” Stan shook his hand a bit, as if the issue was that she forgot where she was. He felt the tiniest of pressures as she pushed her palms into his, and he immediately stopped moving. Oh.

“Please – move slower,” she croaked, not even bothering to look up at him. “And don’t just pick me up without asking.”

“Yeah, sure, okay,” he said, sounding a bit dismissive. Truthfully, he was fully aware and then some about what he just did, but he didn’t want to admit that he probably fucked up. He walked the few steps over to where the control console was and stuck his arm out, holding her out in front like a platform.

“Okay, short stack. Just tell me where to move you.”

“The row of five switches with the red light up there.” Stan pointed to confirm, and she nodded. “Yeah, that one.”

She should have prepared for how fast he was going to move, but it still caught her off guard. She wanted to yell at him for not listening, but getting fresh with a giant while she was in their hand was not something she was interested in.

Stan chuckled in amusement at how much effort it took her to turn the knob, and it turned to a full-blown laugh at the way she couldn’t push one of the switches back up.

“Oh, is this funny to you?” she huffed, clearly exhausted.

“Oh, yes,” Stan grinned. “Extremely.”

“Just – flick it yourself, please,” she sighed, plopping down in his palm. His hand reflexively twitched at the movements, and he shot her a brief look. Man, she actually looks beat from that.

“Fine, fine. Let the big guy show you how it’s done,” Stan said with that smarmy smile. Jay watched incredulously at the way his arm seemed to stretch on forever from his body to the panel. It hung over her like a heavy barrier; something her weight wouldn’t even register against. He could swing his arm and knock her off his hand and he wouldn’t feel a thing.

It was even worse watching him flick the switch with ease. Sure, she had watched Ford and Fidds do crazy human things all the time, but something about the way Stan did it was different. It was almost… taunting.

“There. Now what?”

“Well, if I’m right, it should–”

Suddenly, she couldn’t speak. It was as if her entire body was frozen. A dull sensation reverberated through her, and then, pain. A loud popping sound zapped her ears and she fell backwards, landing hard on her butt, her head ringing, her body aching.

“Woah!” Stan shouted, flinching back. A small spark jumped out from the panel, but he narrowly avoided it. “Was that supposed to–” he started, but stopped. She wasn't moving. Again.

“Hey, tiny, you alright?” Nothing. “Kid?” Still nothing. She was definitely breathing, but seemed to be in a lot of pain. “Jay, you okay?”

She grit her teeth, trying to usher the pain out of her body. Luckily, it melted away after a few seconds, and even though her head was spinning, she was alright. It was no worse than being whipped around on Stan’s hand, anyway.

“I’m fine,” she finally said, though her voice almost sounded like it was glitching. She took another moment to recompose herself. “Guess it didn’t work.”

Stan almost forgot to respond. “I don’t even know what it was supposed to do.”

“It was supposed to – once you put in the W maximum, it should have calibrated a couple other systems. Thing must be fried after the portal was turned on.”

“Oh,” Stan said, pretending to understand. “So, how do we fix it?”

“I – don’t know,” Jay admitted. “I’ve never been inside there before. Not really sure what to do with the wires.”

Stan hummed, unsure of where to go from here. This was the most tangible progress they had made since forming this unlikely alliance, and it got them nowhere.

“Well, uh, if it makes you feel any better… good job.” Jay winced at the way he sounded like the words were being tortured out of him. “Figuring this thing out, I mean.”

“I got it,” Jay said, a small smile forming on her lips. Why did that compliment make her feel so… warm? “Thanks, Stanley.”

“Yeah, yeah, just don’t be expecting any more compliments from me,” he shot back, though there was no bite to it. “Don’t want you going soft on me.”

“Psh. Never in a million years,” Jay teased.

To her surprise, Stan set her down slowly on the table before burying his head back in the journal. He was only half-reading it, though, because he couldn’t get his mind off Jay. It was so contradictory – every time she did something impressive, like spout mathematical nonsense she had no business knowing, she would be rendered immobile by a slight altitude change or a small electric shock. She was so much more fragile than he thought. It was beginning to dawn on him that he actually did have to be careful, or else he might accidentally kill her. He shuddered at the thought. He couldn’t be so reckless when it came to someone’s entire life. 

Not again.

Ever since then, he seemed to care a little bit more about her opinion, which confused Jay to no end, but she didn’t complain. Even if he was invasive and had no regard for her personal space, he seemed to have a... gentler air about him. Like he was trying more.

But it didn’t always show, especially when he got frustrated. They were rapidly approaching that territory right now.

“I think the red wire has to connect to the other end,” she said, glancing at the journal. “No, not that one, the other one! Right there – you keep missing it!”

Stan clenched his teeth. He was getting tired of being bossed around. “Well, if it’s so easy, why don’t you come do it?”

Jay felt her blood boil. “I hate when you say that.”

Stan grinned wildly. “I know.”

“Ugh.” Jay flopped on her back. “We’re not getting anywhere.”

“We? You’re not even doin’ anything.” Stan abandoned his rewiring effort and joined Jay at the table. “Maybe you’re reading this thing wrong.” He grabbed the journal and pulled it to him, taking Jay along with it. She yelped and held on tight as she was moved at a blinding speed from one side of the table to the other.

“C’mon, get off,” Stan began to shoo her away like a fly, and Jay quickly jumped off the book. “I gotta look at this thing.”

Jay stumbled when she landed, staring up at Stan with a disapproving look until she gave up trying to telegraph her annoyance. The worst part was he didn’t ignoring her maliciously; he genuinely didn’t care that she was there. She swallowed, her unease growing at the extended silence as Stan scanned the journal. She had been in close physical proximity to him for basically a week now, and it was unnerving. She had no idea what he was ever going to do, and the only thing stopping him from picking her up all the time was that she grossed him out. But that didn’t feel like a strong enough motivator to stop him from swiping her clean off the table if he got mad enough.

“Ugh, what am I missing?” Stan groaned. He tilted his head, along with the journal, trying to find some hidden message.

Jay marveled at the way he so easily swung the book around. “I don’t think you’re missing anything. There’s only so many ways to read it.”

“C’mon, short stack, you hung out with my know-it-all brother more than any female ever has. You gotta know something. What about these…” he narrowed his eyes, “weird secret codes?”

“Yeah, I’ve tried my best with those, but I don’t think I know enough to figure them out.”

“I’ll say,” Stan mumbled under his breath. Jay heard it, but chose to ignore it.

Stan took a moment to think. Maybe I should go to the library and find a book about this or somethin’. Hah, now I’m really thinking like Ford. But the last thing he wanted was to go into town. There had to be an answer in the journal somewhere. Where there’s a test, there’s always an answer sheet.

But first, he was going to do it his way.

“I’m gonna go shove the lever around again,” Stan announced, grabbing the tool box and disappearing into the portal room. Jay knew it was a futile effort, so while Stan got himself needlessly tired, she would go back to working on her secret project — the new hook that would buy her freedom. 

At best, Stan was tolerable, and being at his mercy was giving her increasing amounts of anxiety. If she couldn’t go back for the contraptions that Fidds made her, she’d just have to do it the old fashioned way. But she only went to work when Stan was asleep or in the portal room. There was no way he could know about this.

Jay had been relegated to sleeping on the table while Stan was here. He had only gone upstairs to get food and drinks, often falling asleep right on the table and getting back to work when his own snores jolted him awake.

Thankfully, there was plenty of material to work with. Not so thankfully, none of it was a rope and a paper clip. She had already fashioned two hooks out of sharp pieces of metal, so her next step was either finding something long enough to lower her to the ground or tying a bunch of short but sturdy things together. Even a parachute could work at this rate.

Her mind flashed back to times with Ford, when they would test out her physics with paper hang gliders and makeshift obstacle courses out of rulers and tape dispensers. He went through a phase of trying to see how far a fall she could take before hurting herself, but that only lasted a week before Jay made him drop the subject. His final conclusion? “Very far.”

Evidently, though, she got too into tinkering, because she didn’t even notice when Stan walked back into the room, jacket shed and face sweaty from all the work. He watched her curiously, trying to see what exactly she was doing. Maybe she just messes with metal like it’s a toy or something. She was working on sharpening her hooks and finding heavy enough things to wrap them around when Stan cleared his throat, and she nearly shot 500 feet in the air.

“What’re you doing?” Stan asked.

“Nothing!” Jay squeaked. “I mean, not nothing nothing, I’m just – it’s –”

But Stan was no longer interested in her ramblings. He reached down and carefully pinched one of the metal hooks between his fingers, ripping it right out of her hands.

“HEY!” she yelled, but to no avail. Even if she could fight him for it, it wouldn’t have mattered, because her legs turned to jelly and her arms became numb the moment his massive fingers came next to her, filling her entire body with a sense of dread. She quickly let go to avoid being pulled up into the air.

“What is this…?” Stan turned the object, observing it intently, marveling at just how damn small it was. Jay felt sick at how miniscule her only path to freedom looked between Stan’s fingers. 

“It’s nothing! Give it back!” she tried, but one glance from Stan promptly shut her up and even pushed her back a few steps. God, he’s so far away.

“Huh… you made this?” he asked, holding it out to her. She just shrugged, unwilling to answer.

Stan wouldn’t have been suspicious otherwise, but he had spent the better part of his life either around criminals or being the criminal. He knew what guilt looked like. He also knew a bad liar when he saw one. He just couldn’t figure out what she was trying to hide.

Not at first, anyway.

He tried to think: if he was that tiny, what would he need something like this for? It certainly wasn’t for fixing the portal, so what was it for? Fun? Stan didn’t know what was so fun about bent metal. Maybe she was just bored? Then there was no reason for her to act so suspicious. She would have just said so.

Then it hit him. What’s the one thing she wanted more than anything, besides getting Ford back? To be left alone. And it wasn’t like she could just walk out of the room whenever she wanted.

She had been looking for an escape since Stan found her. She was manufacturing a way out.

Stan ahh’d in realization, and the way Jay’s face went pale was all the confirmation he needed. 

“Not sure how you were planning to escape with this, and I admire the effort. Really! But you can’t hustle a hustler, kid.”

Jay didn’t know what that meant, but it didn’t matter. Her heart was pounding, her breathing labored. She had no clue what was coming next.

“Look, if you don’t wanna be here, I won’t stop you. In case you haven't noticed, I’m not running a charity here. I’m trying to get my brother back, and I can’t seem to figure out if that’s really what you want or not.” He callously tossed the metal back to her, and she scrambled out of the way as it clanged a few inches from her. “So scram, alright? Get outta here.”

Jay blinked. He was… really going to let her go like that? She didn’t believe him. Humans didn’t do that. They never did. They’d always be back.

But that part didn’t even matter, because she did want Ford back. Even with the threat of opening the portal, she wanted her best friend back more than anything. She just really, really hated working with his irritating brother, and she didn’t know how to deal with him. The only people she had ever dealt with this closely were Ford and Fidds. She wasn’t used to anything else. She couldn't handle anything else.

“I’m – I’m not trying to – to leave,” Jay stammered. God, that sounded so pathetic. “I just – need some freedom, that’s all.”

A light went off in Stan’s head. “You can’t leave, can you?”

Jay raised an eyebrow. “Of course I can leave–”

“No, not this room, this house. You don’t want to leave here. There’s nowhere else for you to go.”

“I–” Jay started, but she had no words. He was right. He was right, damn it! He saw her as this helpless little thing, and he was right.

“Huh, so the squirt that thinks she’s better than me needs me to keep her safe. Right?”

“I don’t – I don’t think I’m better than you!” Jay said, but it didn’t sound convincing. And she didn’t even try and dispute the other point.

Stan’s face scrunched up. “Huh, you sure act like it. Well, squirt, you may need me, but I don’t need you. If you disappeared right now, I wouldn’t waste my energy lookin’ for you, because I’m the one who actually cares about fixing this damn thing and saving Ford!”

Jay knew fighting back would be a bad idea. It had never, ever worked before. But she couldn’t take the constant antagonizing. She just couldn’t.

“Stop acting like I don’t want him back, either!” Jay blurted. Stan looked at her in surprise, but it was too late. The floodgates were open. She was tired of hearing this. “It’s just – it’s dangerous! And there’s only so much I can do!”

“Yeah, and you do a pretty terrible job! Half the time you sit there and mock me for not knowing the “difference” between a picture and a diagram! And there isn’t even a difference!”

“There is!”

“See! You’re just like Ford, always talking down to me, acting like I’m just some – bumbling idiot who can’t possibly be on his level.”

“That’s not true!” Jay asserted. “I don’t think you’re an idiot!”

“Well you certainly fooled me!”

“You’re just – so stubborn!” Jay was nearing the edge of the table now. “You ask for my help, and yet you can’t even fathom that I would know something you don’t!”

“Maybe I’d listen to you more if you weren’t so damn tiny! I’m taking orders from someone who can’t even walk up the stairs by herself!”

Jay’s eyes widened in shock. Oh, so that was it. Of course it was. How could she think it was anything else? Her heart was racing now, her stomach churning. How could she respond? Why did she ever think she could fight a giant?

“And you act like you’re so much better because you were best friends with him,” Stan sneered, placing particular mocking emphasis on that part. “He’s MY brother! MY family! He probably only talked to you because you’re – weird and small and he felt bad! You’re just a thing, an experiment for him to get all excited about! He never cared about you!”

Jay knew responding would be a bad idea, but her lips moved faster than her brain. “Oh yeah? He didn’t even want to think about you! I didn’t even know you existed until you showed up here! Maybe if you weren’t such a lazy freeloader, he would–”

It was at that moment her life flashed before her eyes.

[obwjam]

AAAAAA SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU AGAIN!!!! 🫂💙✨️ Hope you have been well.

THANK YOU FRIEND!!! i have been well thank you for asking! just very, very busy with life and my big adult job that ends up sidetracking me for weeks at a time. but if there's one thing i can do consistently, it's leave tumblr for months at a time and then come back!

[obwjam]

never missing an episode of george shrinks, really liking very specific magic school bus episodes, and being extremely into polly pocket

Tell me you’re a G/t fan without telling me you’re a G/t fan

I’ll go first:

Of all the Tinkerbell movies, The Great Fairy Rescue was always my favorite.

Your turn.

[obwjam]

a small surprise part 2 (gravity falls g/t)

read part 1 here!

----------------------------

Stanley had tried everything he could think of. 

Which, admittedly, wasn’t much. Pulling the lever, smacking the big button, pushing and flicking and kicking every button and switch and piece of metal he could see, but it was no use. Not even a spark.

Journal in hand, he quietly made his way toward the elevator. He was relieved to see the tiny person seemingly asleep, because he couldn’t deal with that right now. He spent his night poring through the pages, slumped over on the bed in Ford’s room, occasionally rubbing his glasses like it was a genie’s lamp, hoping it would make him reappear at any moment.

He didn’t remember falling asleep that night, but dim sunlight passing over his eyes told him he must have been out for a while, because the storm had subsided, but only outside. Stanley instantly remembered every detail from the night before; most notably, the strange little person he had encountered and subsequently stranded. His stomach churned at that. That was a pretty terrible thing to do, wasn’t it? It felt nice to feel like he had power for a little bit, but 12 hours removed from his initial shock and anger, that familiar feeling of helplessness was creeping back in. If he wanted to get Ford back as quickly as possible, he needed all the help he could get. Besides, this nonsensical journal made almost no sense to Stanley. Maybe it made sense to the half-pint.

But when he dragged himself back down to the bunker, he gasped. The tiny person was lying down the same way she had been last night. She hadn’t even moved, it looked like.

“Oh, no,” Stanley mumbled, rapidly putting the journal down and scrambling on top of the table. His stomach sank as he peered inside the jar – her eyes were most definitely closed, and he couldn’t tell if she was breathing or the glass was just warped. Carefully, he lifted the jar into his hands as he hopped back down to the ground. He nearly recoiled at how cold the jar was to the touch. That couldn’t be good. He let out a huge sigh when he saw her squirm ever so slightly at the change in altitude… but she still didn’t wake up. 

“Great, just great,” Stan groaned. “Now I have to take care of this.” He was going to pretend like this wasn’t his doing in the first place.

The first thing he did was unscrew the lid; he winced at the loud squeaking noise it made. He stood still for a moment, questioning if he really wanted to do this. He could just stick the jar back up on the shelf, behind some books, and forget this ever happened… but this thing, tiny as she was, was a person, with thoughts and feelings and apparent knowledge on the very thing he was puzzling over. And sure, she may be weird, but Stan could really use some company he didn’t meet in a Colombian prison.

He carefully tilted the jar down and allowed the tiny person to slide onto his palm, thinking that would be enough to stir them from whatever deep sleep they were in. But to Stan’s horror, it was like holding an ice cube in his hand. They were freezing. No wonder they weren’t waking up. 

He groaned, keeping his hand far away from his body like he was holding something poisonous. He twisted around a few times to see if he could use anything to warm her up. Didn’t Ford keep any space heaters down here? 

“C’mon, Poindexter, you gotta have something,” Stanley muttered. He glanced down at the tiny again. He was trying not to think about the fact that they even exist, because the moment he did, he would have to accept the fact that his entire worldview was now decidedly, permanently, altered from this. Somehow, with all he had been through, this was still the weirdest thing he’s ever seen.

And she was just – a person. But really, really small. There was no discernible difference, as far as Stan could tell. Boy, that really has to suck, he thought as he pushed aside junk on every table. How can anyone live like that?

Eventually, he found what he was looking for – sort of. It was a ragged cloth, covered in grease and, as a sniff test determined, various other fluids. But as long as it meant not having to hold some half-alive miniature human, he didn’t care. He unceremoniously dumped her into the cloth, once again relieved to see her still on this earth as she squirmed a bit at the new surface.

“Ugh. Finally,” Stan grumbled. He quickly set the cloth on the table and got up to continue tweaking the portal, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

He stopped after a few steps.

He couldn’t just… ugh. He turned back around, flexing his hands. I can’t just leave ‘em here. Ew. Why was he thinking that? Because they’re smaller than a damn pencil and can’t survive here on their own. Okay, so what? And how did he even know that? He had no obligation to take care of anyone but himself. But they’ll die down here. Who cares? And it’d be all your fault. No, it wouldn’t. Just like Ford.

Stanley shut his eyes and rubbed them hard. Since when did he develop a conscience? That was inconvenient. But this pipsqueak had said something that Stan found he couldn’t get out of his mind – I was around when Ford worked on it. Even if she didn’t actually do anything, she knew Ford and had some semblance of understanding about the inner workings of this thing, which was more than Stan could say. Maybe she knew where the other journals were, too. Or maybe she’d be able to stop Stan from going insane.

Ugh.

He pulled up the rickety stool he was sitting on last night and flopped down, placing his elbows on the table and leaning his chin into his hands. He narrowed his eyes and concentrated on her tiny form, as if it would help her wake up. Though he didn’t do anything to jolt her awake, his concentration did pay off when he started to notice her breathing. It stunned his mind silent. He could actually see her tiny chest expanding, retracting, expanding, retracting with her breathing. Tiny strands of her hair were being pushed and pulled along with the movement. She was dirtier than she looked from afar. Can she even take a shower? Eugh. She had all sorts of scratches and bruises along her skin including a long gash over her left eye that would have looked kind of badass if it probably didn’t come from fighting a rat or something. 

It was hard to imagine Ford actually befriending something – someone like that, and regarding them as an equal. Stan wasn’t even sure he could think of them as equal. Ford had a condescending way about him; he’s been looking down on Stan since they were teenagers. Why should some four-inch-tall person get more respect than he did? It wasn’t fair. Stan was family. Family was the most important thing in the world. Right?

Stanley took one more long look at the tiny and sighed. Yeah, she probably wasn’t waking up anytime soon. Well, he was already sitting down… he might as well keep thumbing through this journal and see if he could make any sense of it.

*******

Why was everything so fuzzy?

It was like she was moving underwater. Even blinking seemed to go in slow motion. It didn’t help that she was wandering around some dark, dirty room. She couldn’t even feel her limbs moving. They just… did.

Who’s there?

That voice. It was unmistakable! She called out his name, straining her voice more each time.

Hello?

Why couldn’t he hear her? He always heard her. She screamed even louder. “IT’S ME!” she yelled. “RIGHT HERE!”

What in the world…

A form that didn’t even look like his loomed large over her. His glasses were opaque, his expression stoic. He seemed to have no regard for her as his foot slammed down next to her, causing her to fall. She tried to get up, but the sensation of him kneeling down was enough to keep her pressed into the ground. He extended his hand right at her, emotionless, unwavering, not stopping until he gets what he wants. He didn’t seem to hear her pleading, even as he snatched her up. The squeezing feeling was nearly suffocating–

Suddenly, she shot up. Her ears were ringing, and she was drenched in a cold sweat, but everything was moving at normal speeds again. She allowed herself a few heavy breaths before wiping her face with her hands. It had been ages since she’d last had a nightmare that bad. Not since…

“Sheesh, about time you woke up.”

Her blood ran ice cold as she slowly turned her head to meet the booming voice. Him. Ford’s brother. Stanley. The one who stuck her inside a jar last night and left her for dead. Maybe she was still dreaming. Or maybe this was the afterlife.

She began to inch back, planning on pressing herself to the back of the glass jar, but immediately sank downward. What the hell? She jerked her head down, discovering a grey cloth that was once probably white cushioning her. Before she could even think, stars filled her vision, and she clutched her head as her temples throbbed.

Stan raised an eyebrow at her reaction, letting out a small eugh at the way she wobbled back and forth. He guessed it had to be a bit disorienting to be stuck on a tabletop, barely even registering as a speck in this massive place.

He watched – in pity, he later realized, which made him shudder – as the tiny person whipped her head around, clearly disoriented and clearly freaked out by Stan’s proximity. When their eyes met, hers burned with a fear he wasn’t quite sure he’d ever seen before. He kept a straight face, but he knew he had to say something. This was starting to make him uncomfortable.

“Woah, woah, take it easy,” he grumbled, his voice softer than he expected it would be. “I’m not gonna do that again.” Her skeptical expression made him snicker. “I’m serious, short stuff. I was just… mad, last night. Lost my temper.”

Yeah, she thought, cold creeping up her spine. That’s the problem.

Stan couldn’t take looking her in the eye anymore, so he brought his focus back to the journal, pretending to scan through its pages. A few minutes passed, and the tiny didn’t move.

“You were freezing,” Stan started, not looking up from the book. “Inside that jar. So I found that cloth. Thought it might warm you up.”

Jay wanted to laugh, but nothing about that was funny. No wonder she felt so lethargic. She nearly froze to death. Somewhere inside her, she appreciated the gesture, but it didn’t take heightened senses to know this rag was gross. She would almost rather freeze than smell like… god, what even was that?

Stanley frowned. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised she didn’t want to talk to him, but it mildly freaked him out that she wouldn’t even look at him. She kept her eyes trained at the ground, trying not to make any sudden movements, like he would forget all about her if she stayed still long enough. Ugh. Why did he feel so bad about this? I guess it is my fault.

“Y’know, I never, uh, asked you what your name was.”

Jay blinked. No, he didn’t, and she sure as hell didn't want him to know it. It would just be another thing he could use against her if he had to. But what power did she have in this situation to stay silent? He could – no, would – just throw her back in the jar at the slightest inconvenience.

Stan shifted uncomfortably. “Look, tiny, I… I know I probably shouldn’t have put you in that jar.” Jay looked up, surprised. She wasn’t expecting an apology. Stan tried to hide his amusement at her tiny movements. “And I know you have no reason to trust me. But if we want to get Ford back, we need to work together, right? Not like you can fix the portal all by yourself.” Jay thought for a moment, brushing aside yet another size-related comment, then gave a tentative nod. She didn’t feel like facing his wrath by disagreeing. “So, whadda ya say? Truce?”

Truce was a strong word. She didn’t want to do this, but she had to. He was right about one thing – there was nothing she could do in this situation without Stan’s help. And she really, really just wanted to get Ford back as quickly as possible so she never had to see his twin again.

She flinched when a giant finger entered her view, stopping inches in front of her face – a reflex that did not go unnoticed by Stan. He was going for one of those handshakes that humans loved to do. Just like Ford had done when they first met.

Stan was grinning, but it had a smarmy edge to it that she didn’t like. He was amused by the size difference, and his smile only grew wider when Jay hesitantly reached her hands out and placed them on either side of his fingertip. He gently shook his finger, but the movement was enough to nearly pull Jay into the air from her seated position. She quickly regained her balance and shot Stan a nasty look. He just laughed.

“Oh, this is gonna be fun,” he said, wiping a fake tear from his eye. That was all Jay needed to get serious.

“Okay, listen, if we’re gonna be doing this, we need to lay down some ground rules.”

Stan’s eyes briefly lit up at the sound of her voice. “Oh? And what would those be?”

Jay rolled her eyes. “No touching me without asking. No, you know what, no touching me at all. I’m not your plaything. And if I say something, you actually have to listen. Don’t just brush me off. And…” she trailed off, unsure of how bold she wanted to be. 

“And? And what?” Stan was still smiling. Jay grimaced.

“And… you need to share food and water with me. It’s… what Ford did.”

The room grew quiet at the mention of Ford’s name, and even Stan could sense this wasn’t the moment for a joke. He didn’t put two seconds into thinking how she would eat or drink, but it’s not like she could just walk down the street and go to the grocery store. He didn’t feel like getting into the fact that he had no money for food or water or… anything.

Stan stole a glance at the tiny, who was clearly waiting for an acknowledgement. It didn't seem like she noticed him faltering. Stan leaned back, waving his hand dismissively. “Yeah, sure, whatever, easy enough. You should know that I’m not too good at following rules, though.”

Jay sighed. Just when she thought she had gotten through… no, it was fine. He had listened... in his own Stanley way.

“I’m serious though, kid, you gotta tell me your name. I doubt you want me calling you pipsqueak all the time.”

Jay crossed her arms. “You’ll do that anyway.”

Stan smiled. “Yeah, probably.”

Despite herself, Jay smirked. This giant definitely had Ford’s cockiness, but also his intangible charm. He was unapologetically himself. 

“My name’s Jay,” she said finally, taking a moment to meet Stan’s eyes. Her cheeks flushed red when he raised his eyebrows.

“Jay? Huh. Interesting. Is that short for somethin’?” Stan paused before bursting out into laughter. “Short for something – ha! I mean – you are, short for something – HA!”

“Okay, not funny,” she mumbled, her entire face now burning.

“No, it’s pretty funny.” Stan shook for a few more seconds. “Okay, okay, I’m done.”

“Do you actually want to know why that’s my name?”

Stan leaned down, intrigued. “Oh, there’s actually a reason? Thought it was just some weird tiny person thing.”

“Yes, there’s actually a reason,” Jay shot back, trying to hide her nerves. “All borrower names have significance.”

It took Stan a moment to remember what a borrower was, but he just nodded, prompting her to continue.

“I, um. I grew up in the forest,” she started tentatively, gauging his reaction. He just kept staring. Jay moved her gaze back to her lap. “So we relied a lot on nature. My, uh, family… they relied on birds, a lot. We helped them, they helped us, that kind of thing. So they named me Jay.” She paused, giving Stan room to say something. He didn’t. “Like the bird.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Stanley said, sounding a little breathless. He would never admit it, but that little detail had completely captivated him. She grew up in the forest? It really was like a fairy tale. Except she was no fairy, and this was no tale. After reading through the journal last night, it was clear that this town was full of wacky paranormal weirdness, because Ford didn’t have enough of an imagination to dream all of that nonsense up himself. 

But there was nothing in the journal about this tiny – Jay – that he could use as a reference. He was curious, sure, but he wasn't going to waste his time asking her details about her weird tiny life. He just wanted his brother back. She was a vehicle to make that happen. That was it. Nothing more.

Jay cleared her throat. “So if you could just call me that, instead of some degrading size-based nickname, that would be appreciated.”

“Hm? Oh, sure thing, short stuff.” Jay let out a long sigh, but Stan didn’t hear. He tapped the journal impatiently. “Can we get back to the important stuff now? Like, what does…” Stan squinted at the page, “...‘quantum entanglement’ mean? That sounds made up.”

Jay rubbed the brim of her nose. “It means–”

“Nope, don’t care,” Stan cut her off, flipping to the next page. “First lesson – don’t waste my time with a bunch of nerdy words that I won’t understand. I’m sure we can figure this out without you giving me a chemistry lesson.”

“It’s physics,” Jay mumbled, plopping down on the table. She allowed the journal to tower over her as she stared straight ahead, out into the vast room before her. She had spent a lot of nights down in this bunker, and it was hard not to feel a little wistful for the times when Ford would fall asleep with papers stuck to his face, or when Fiddleford was so hopped up on caffeine he would dance around the room and talk a million miles per hour, or the rare times when Ford would share personal anecdotes and forget all about the portal for a few hours. 

Now, in the blink of an eye, it was gone, replaced with a dark, musty room whose only occupants were a tired, run-down Jay and her best friend’s sarcastic, impatient twin brother whom she did not trust one bit. Ford was always telling her to trust no one. Maybe it’s high time she listened.

Stan silently flipped through the journal for another five minutes before letting out a loud groan and slamming his head down into the pages. Jay let out a small yelp, instinctively scooting back.

“This is stupid,” Stan said to no one in particular. “I’m getting a soda.”

Jay watched, helpless, as Stan disappeared down the hall, mumbling about Ford’s apparent stupidity. 

This was going to take a long, long time.

[obwjam]

OMG UR BACK!!!

hello yes i am kind of back!!! believe it or not i am always writing and dont post stuff like 90% of the time… it’s been so long but i was like damn i want to post again! i want to share this w ppl! so i did!

[obwjam]

a small surprise (gravity falls g/t!)

aka when you fall back down the gravity falls rabbit hole and before you know it you're brainstorming every possible g/t idea...

and then you end up with something like this: ford's borrower friend is left alone and confused when a mysterious force jolts them awake one night... and discovers that the author of the journals has a mysterious twin brother

s/o to @pocket-lad for all the ramblings about giant stans and for fostering this idea with me -- check out their take on this!!

part 2

--------------------

Jay had never felt tremors like this before.

She thought the earth was about to split open and swallow her whole with how intensely her world shook. Of course she had felt earthquakes before – or what she thought were earthquakes. Ford had tried to explain it a million times, and Jay pretended to get it around explanation No. 837,382 so she wouldn’t have to hear it anymore.

But that was ages ago. Ford had gotten pretty much impossible to talk to after the whole triangle worshiping thing, and after Fiddleford quit, the house had fallen into an intense state of disrepair. Jay still lived here, of course, because it was warm and safe and Ford still remembered to leave food and water out for her. But anytime she tried to talk to him, he would look at her like he was hallucinating. He probably was.

It had been a few weeks since the two had actually spoken face to face. She felt uncomfortable trying to get through to someone who clearly wasn’t himself anymore. But this – earthquake, whatever it was – was enough to scare her to the point where she was afraid of being alone. She at least had to ask Ford what had happened; even if he was delusional most of the time, she knew him well enough that she could glean some sort of answer from his ramblings.

Careful not to trip over fallen objects, Jay made her way from her little hiding spot upstairs to the small pulley system Ford helped her construct to get down to the bunker. That had taken a lot of convincing, since Ford didn’t understand why he couldn’t just carry her down with him every time – “It’s much more practical!” he would say, dramatically pointing his finger up in the air – but she eventually persuaded him because he liked a challenge. It worked just as lowering a bucket into a well did, a simple enough mechanism that Jay could use herself no matter what. Ford was always fascinated by her raw strength.

The house was dark and quiet – nothing new – but there was an eerie feeling in the air that Jay just couldn’t shake. Something felt… wrong. Ford’s presence was easily felt, and Jay couldn’t sense him anywhere. The only sound was the snowstorm battering against the thin glass windows, making the wood creak and shake but nothing more. With one hand, Jay clutched the sewing needle that served as her protection. The other was pressed behind her back, ready to fend off anything from behind. It didn’t make her feel much better.

“What did you do now, Ford…” Jay muttered to herself, eyes darting left and right. It was hard to make out much of anything, but the usual controlled chaos of the main floor felt skewed, and it was clear to see from up on the table. Maybe once she got to her makeshift elevator, she’d start to feel better.

But she stopped short of the bunker’s entrance, because a sudden noise scared the living daylights out of her. She flung her needle forward, but nothing was in her immediate vicinity. She cautiously lowered the weapon, and it didn’t take long for her eyes to find the source. Standing in the center of the main room, staring intently at the journal like it was his last remaining possession on Earth, was…

“Ford?”

Ford froze, stiff as a board. Jay swallowed the lump in her throat. He was probably pissed at her.

“Ford…” Jay paused. She didn’t really think about what she would say if – when – she finally saw him. “What–what happened? Is everything okay? It’s–”

She was cut off abruptly when Ford turned around, and Jay’s stomach dropped so fast she thought it might take her through the floor. He – this man – he had Ford’s face, but this was not him. The hair was all wrong (he had a mullet, for Christ’s sake). The posture. The clothes. The look in his glasses-less eyes as he stared right at her. This wasn’t him. Jay was baffled. Did he do something to himself? Is this just what he looked like now? Could he really have changed that much in a few weeks?

Not-Ford blinked, then blinked again. His mouth hung slightly agape, and his eyes were blown wide. He looked dirty and tired, but most pressing, he looked mad. Mad at Jay.

“What the…” 

Not-Ford’s gruff, hoarse voice was the final nail in the coffin. Ford didn’t sound like that. Even when he was losing his mind, he spoke with a surprising amount of authority. He was just like that. This man… he sounded lost.

The reality of the situation hit Jay like a freight train. Slowly, she held her hands up and began to back away, like she was retreating from an animal. Whether this was some weird, alternate version of Ford or a complete stranger, it didn’t change the fact that she was being seen.

Jay was quick. Not-Ford was quicker.

At a blinding speed that Jay would never get used to from humans, Not-Ford had grabbed a jar from an adjacent table and slammed it on top of her, eliciting a very high-pitched scream. She jumped when a piece of paper replaced the wood of the table underneath her feet, and in just a few seconds, her world turned upside down. Literally. She was flipped to the bottom of the jar as Not-Ford brought her shaking form up to eye level.

“What the hell are you?” That rough voice was distorted through thick glass, but still terrifying. “And what the hell do you know about my brother?”

Jay almost choked. Brother? Ford had never mentioned a brother.

“Wh–who–where’s Ford?” Jay barely had the courage to speak.

“Oh, it talks,” Not-Ford sounded intrigued for a moment. “What, are you one of his experiments gone wrong? You’re so… tiny.”

Jay opened her mouth to respond, but her words died in her throat when Not-Ford – Ford’s brother, apparently – tilted the jar to the side, causing her to fall to the side with an unceremonious oof. He was observing her, like some caged animal. She tried to regain her footing, but failed miserably each time. Her legs felt like they were still stuck in those tremors. She wanted to yell at him to stop, but she could barely get air in her lungs as she was swirled around like water going down a drain. 

“Huh,” Not-Ford said, going still after what felt like a million years. “Did my brother do this to you?”

Jay stumbled and tilted her head. “Do–do what?”

“What do you mean, do what. Make you tiny.”

“Make me – no, he didn’t make me tiny,” Jay shot back, almost insulted. She felt the anger boil up inside of her when Not-Ford almost smiled.

“Oh, man, you really got the short end of the stick, then. Literally.”

Despite herself, Jay rolled her eyes. Height jokes. Very original.

“L–look, I don’t know who you are, but–”

“Can it, pipsqueak!” Jay actually had to cover her ears at the sheer volume of his voice. “I’m asking the questions here. Did you help him with this – portal thing?”

The portal. The tremors. Jay’s eyes widened. No. He didn’t…

Ford’s brother evidently understood her look of recognition. “Ah, so you do know about it. Well, you’re gonna help me fix it.”

“Wh–” Jay didn’t get a chance to speak as he swung the jar to his side. She flew into the side, and she tried to ignore the way her arm crunched under the pressure. The world whizzed by underneath her feet, and she could barely keep her balance with the way Not-Ford was lumbering around. Looks like she was getting a ride down to the bunker after all.

Jay’s mind raced with ways she could get herself out of this. As badly as she wanted to figure out what happened to Ford, she didn’t care to have this guy help her. She could easily find Ford by herself. Maybe she could try to find Fiddleford, too, but for all Jay knew, he was halfway across the world at this point, so that was probably a fruitless effort. He was very adamant about quitting when he left that night, which always made Jay sad whenever she thought about it. She sorely missed his calm demeanor and gentleness with her. She liked spending time with Ford, but at the end of the day, he had a tendency to regard her as some kind of scientific marvel, not a fully functioning person. Fiddleford never seemed to care. He just wanted to make sure she was safe and happy.

A harsh jolt brought Jay back to reality. Oh. Right. Not-Ford. Ford’s crazy brother. It had taken her a bit to notice, but Not-Ford’s hands were shaking. And the anger… it didn’t seem like he was mad at her. That made no sense; the only crime she was guilty of was knowing Ford. But the way he spoke about Ford – like he wasn’t here right now – and how the portal needed fixing, and he wanted help doing it… what exactly happened?

“Stupid secret bunker… stupid portal… stupid brother…” Not-Ford muttered. He was glancing behind him, as if Ford would pop out at any moment and yell surprise!

Not-Ford definitely got discombobulated, but he eventually found his way back to the control room. He threw the jar onto the main control panel, and Jay shut her eyes, hoping the sensation of moving would fade away quickly.

“Alright, short stuff,” Not-Ford said gruffly, slamming a journal in front of her. “Tell me how to turn this thing on.”

Jay started blankly at the journal. It wasn’t even opened to the correct section, and she could barely see over the horizon of the pages.

Not-Ford grunted. “Well, what are you waiting for?” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Tiny people can read, right?”

“Wh–what makes you think I can do anything?” Jay managed to choke out. It had worked on Ford when they first met; using her diminutive size to her advantage. She had wriggled out of so many things she didn’t want to do by playing the useless card. 

Ford’s brother stopped. He abruptly grabbed the jar, lifting it up to his dirty, unhappy face. Jay gasped and inched back until her head softly hit the glass. Through the distortion of her clear prison, it looked like he was actually considering her words. If he was anything like Ford, it would work.

He was nothing like Ford.

“Heh, if you want to weasel your way out of this, you’re gonna have to try harder, tiny,” he smirked, placing the jar back in front of the journal. 

Jay shook her head in disbelief. “But – what –” she paused. Trying to reason with him wouldn’t work. This guy clearly didn’t work like that. With wide eyes and trembling hands, Jay considered her next move. Her primary goal of getting the hell out of this jar didn’t seem like it was going to happen anytime soon, and he obviously wasn't going to fall for a sob story. She could help him, but based on the way he’s been acting, he’d probably put her in a closet and forget about her as quickly as he found her. She looked up, trying to read Not-Ford through the warped glass. His hands were tightly wrapped around his waist, and his eyes darted nervously at every little sound. His demeanor didn’t match his tough-guy attitude one bit.

A lightbulb went off in Jay’s head: He’s desperate. And she could use that to her advantage.

“I’ll help you if you tell me what happened,” she said, sounding way less assertive than she wanted to. Not-Ford regarded her in something of a condescending curiosity before bursting out into laughter. Jay felt the heat rush to her cheeks. Why was he laughing? What was so funny? Oh, she shouldn’t have tried to play tough. She was in no position to negotiate.

“Trying to do this my way, huh?” Not-Ford leaned back in his seat. “Alright, I’ll play along.”

Jay was stunned silent.

“Go ahead, ask me what you wanna know. But don’t think about trying to be slick, because I have no problem shaking you around like a martini.”

It took her a second to gather her thoughts. She wasn’t planning on conning him, because she knew the consequences, but it was interesting that Not-Ford defaulted to assuming the worst. There were a million things she wanted – needed – to ask, but he was volatile. She had to tread carefully. So she started simple.

“Wh… what’s your name? And are you really… Ford’s brother?”

“Name’s Stanley,” he said, brushing some loose hair from his face. “And yeah, Poindexter's my brother. We’re twins.”

“Twins…” Jay repeated. That’s why they looked identical, even down to their names. But why would Ford never say anything about it? “I… Ford never mentioned anything about having a twin.”

Stanley laughed. “Yeah, that’s not surprising. We haven’t seen each other in years. He was probably tryin’ to pretend I didn’t exist.”

Jay frowned. Stanley sounded miserable saying that out loud, and she didn’t need to ask to know what that meant. 

“And what are you supposed to be? Some kind of fairy or something? I know Ford was into weird stuff, but this is just unnatural.”

Jay crossed her arms. “I’m a borrower.”

Stanley blinked. “You say that like I’m supposed to know what that is.”

“Well, it’s what… I am,” Jay said, gesturing to herself.

“Okay… so, what? You were Ford’s pet or something?”

“I was not – no!” Jay cried as that familiar sinking feeling entered her stomach. She was not about to do this again right now. “I am not a pet!”

“Okay, okay, yeesh,” Stanley said, throwing his hands up. “Sore subject, I see.”

“We were… friends,” Jay said cautiously. “He respected me. I think.”

“You think?” Stanley laughed. “Oh, I’m sure he did. He loves listening to other people. Especially when they’re the size of a doll.”

Jay felt the tears welling up in her eyes, but pushed past it. There were more pressing matters at hand than her feelings. “Where… where is Ford? What happened?”

Stanley froze, like all his bodily control was stolen from him. For a moment, he stared off into the distance, something flashing before his eyes that only he could see. If Jay didn’t know any better, she’d almost say he looked… embarrassed.

“I – he – we got into a fight,” Stanley said, hanging his head a bit. “One second, he was here, and the next, some wacky machine turns on and he’s bein’ pulled right into it! And I can’t get it back on, because in case you haven’t noticed, I’m the handsome twin, not the nerdy twin. So either you help me get this thing back on or I’ll–”

“Wait wait wait. He went through?”

“What, are your tiny ears incapable of hearing? That's what I just said!” Stanley cried.

Jay felt like she was going to throw up. Fiddleford walked out on site from what he saw inside that portal, and Ford went mad trying to make sure it was never used again. If he got pulled through…

“...he might not even be alive,” Jay whispered, her voice trembling as violently as her body. 

Stanley leaned in, causing Jay to recoil. “What? You’re gonna have to talk louder than that, pipsqueak. I can barely hear you.”

“I said HE MIGHT BE DEAD!”

For a moment, Stanley’s face remained stoic. But it soon twisted into a cocktail of sadness, rage and annoyance, his eyes practically glowing red, staring straight through Jay’s soul.

Jay tensed up. Maybe that was a bad idea.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing. F-forget I said anything,” Jay stammered, holding her hands up. She retreated – as if there was anywhere she could go. Stanley could kill her in 10,000 different ways, and she didn’t even want to speculate about any of them.

But instead of taking the jar, Stanley just sighed. “That’s right, tiny. I don’t wanna hear any of that. My brother may be the biggest pain in the ass I’ve ever known, but he is one tough son of a bitch and there is no way some – stupid gadget killed him!”

Jay opened her mouth, but stopped. Something piqued her interest.

“How… how much do you know about the portal?”

Stanley glared at her. “Nothing. That’s why I’ve resorted to asking some half-baked person to help me.”

“No, I mean… did Ford tell you anything about what it does?”

“Yeah,” Stanley said, though he sounded unsure. “Something about a universal gateway into unfathomable knowledge, blah blah, boring nerd stuff. Look, it doesn’t matter, just – tell me how to get it back on already, will ya?!”

“I don’t–!” Jay started to yell, but she took a breath. She couldn’t lose her cool. “I was here – around – I would watch when Ford and Fidds were working on it, but it’s not like I understood any of it.” Jay shut her eyes, waiting for blowback, some kind of retaliation. But it never came. Stanley just stared at her, eyes shaking. “Besides, if you only have one journal, you can’t… Ford wrote three journals, see, and they have to be combined to build it. Sort of a failsafe thing. Do you have the others?”

Stanley shook his head. “He told me he buried them or something. He didn’t want to turn that thing back on, I – I don’t even know what happened.”

There was a long stretch of silence after that. The two of them just stared at each other, unmoving. It was hard for Jay to put all the pieces together based on the limited useful information Ford told her after Fidds quit, but one thing was crystal clear – that portal should be shut down at all costs. Ford kept saying he was tricked, and using the portal again would destroy the universe. Jay believed him, too, because the kind of stuff he got himself into always seemed bigger than themselves. If Ford actually was taken through the portal, then that means it was turned on… and the universe was still here. No mass destruction, no end of humanity, no triangles. Everything seemed to be okay… except for the noticeable lack of Ford.

Ford. The first human she had ever talked to; one of the only beings on earth she considered to be her friend. Sure, he was obsessive, invasive and sometimes lacked humanity… but he was also protective, curious and caring of her. Jay hadn’t had to hunt for food in a year. She had unlimited access to cold, clean water. The worst thing she had to endure was Ford’s endless stream of questions and experiments, but it was a trade she’d make 100 times out of 100 if it meant sustenance, shelter and safety for the rest of her life. 

Above all, Ford trusted her. He would let her watch other experiments, take her on trips, and even contribute to brainstorming sessions. She would listen quietly as Ford and Fidds reminisced about their Backupsmore days and the things they would do to change the world. She felt part of it all. Ford made her feel part of it all.

So what would he want her to do, right now, in this moment? He would never want to put himself above the safety of humanity; not once he found out what Bill was really up to. He would rather spend a thousand years in another dimension than risk the safety of this one. Maybe the portal didn’t do anything this time, but would they be so lucky again? Something told her no. Maybe there was a reason Ford didn’t talk to his brother anymore. Maybe he was just reckless. With Fidds and Ford both gone now… it really was up to her to keep everyone safe.

Jay sighed, realizing she needed to say something before Stanley shook her around again. “Look, even if I – even if I wanted to, you need those other journals, and I – I don’t really understand all that mechanical stuff. I’m… I’m sorry, Stanley. I don’t know how to turn it back on.”

Stanley said nothing. Jay gulped. Oh, boy, he was mad.

“I – I just mean – I can’t –”

“What do you mean, even if you wanted to?”

Jay paused. The temperature in the room seemed to drop 20 degrees. “I– well–”

“My brother is trapped on the other side of some – some – some inter-dimensional weirdness, and you don’t even want to get him back?”

“That’s not – I didn’t mean –”

But she didn’t get to finish her sentence as Stanley grabbed the jar off the table, throwing Jay to the back of the glass again. “Listen to this, tiny! I don’t care what some half-pint wants! He’s my family! And if you’re not going to help me get him back, then – then you’re useless to me!”

“Wait, Stanley, come on, I –”

“And stop saying my name as if we’re on the same level here! You’re just some – some – some thing my brother happened to find interesting. You don’t know anything about Ford!”

“You’re one to talk, considering I’ve spent more time with him in the last year than you have for the last 10!”

All the oxygen in the room seemed to evaporate. Jay didn’t mean to say that, not really – sure, it’s how she felt, but she didn’t want to say it out loud. Maybe Stanley didn’t hear her. Maybe he wouldn’t even care. Maybe he’d just say you’re right and come to his senses.

Maybe not.

It was perhaps scarier that Stanley didn’t say anything in response. Instead, he simply blinked a few times, took a few breaths, then got moving. 

He didn’t know where he was going, just that he wanted to be anywhere but here right now, talking to anyone but – but – damn it, he didn’t even know her name. It didn’t matter. This stupid little thing was right about one thing – she’d spoken to his brother more in the last week than he had for a decade. What did Stan do to deserve this? Just because he broke his dumb brother’s dumb science project back in high school? And just when he was hopeful Ford was ready to turn the page, they got right back into it – and now he was gone, with no way to come back.

He glanced down at the impossibly small figure in the jar. How was this even possible? He didn’t think any of that fairy tale folk junk was real. And Ford would befriend it, too. They probably forged some weird bond over being weird. 

Deep down, Stan felt bad. He barely knew this little guy, and he didn’t really have a right to keep them trapped. But right now, he was pissed off and feeling irrational. The more he stared at this tiny being, the more it reminded him of everything he lost with Ford.

So he found the highest shelf and stuck the jar up there.

“HEY! ARE YOU KIDDING ME! HEY!!!” Jay kicked at the glass, as if that would do anything. “YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME UP HERE!”

“I can do whatever the hell I want, pipsqueak,” Stanley mumbled, not even bothering to look her in the eye. In an instant, he was gone, head down and hands shoved in his pockets. He had work to do.

“STANLEY!!!!” Jay gave it one more try, but it was no use. Okay, don’t panic. You’ve been in worse situations. Maybe I can just push the glass off the shelf. Jay slammed her body onto the side of the jar until she became numb. It barely moved an inch. Okay, maybe if I… no, that won’t work. Or I can… no, that won’t do either. What if… if… if…

“If,” Jay sighed out loud, her legs crumbling beneath her. She was trapped. Stanley wasn’t coming back to let her out. Ford wasn’t coming back at all. She would die here. What first, starvation? Dehydration? Oxygen deprivation? It was all the same to her at this point.

Truthfully, she didn’t know how much time passed. The low light of the bunker was the same any time of day, and she never saw Stanley pass by, so either it had only been a few hours or Stanley was working nonstop for days. The whirlwind of everything had finally caught up to her, and the cool glass of the jar felt nice when she laid down and stretched her body out. There’s not much I can do right now. I’ll think of something later…

The second she closed her eyes, she passed out.

[obwjam]

SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UPPPP I AM OBSESSED AND I NEED MORE NOW

WIP Title I'm sorry (Haikyuu g/t fic pt 1)

this is basically for @obwjam (and the anon who asked for the snippet! Sorry it came out a bit late), and unsurprisingly, this is how I try to be friends with people :’) Sorry for using the practically same scenario for the intro but that’s just the perfect jumping point for a tiny in the haikyuu universe and a good way to set things up. plz enjoy part 1! featuring iwaizumi and oikawa :) pt. 2 TBA

“Where are they? Where did they go?” Hinata was frantic. The team bus was about to leave when he realized his tiny friend, Mitsu, was missing. During Interhigh, the team had gone a lot of places, so Hinata was unsure where they could’ve gone missing. They were there during Karasuno’s first match and while Hinata and Kageyama were watching Aoba Johsai. But after that, Hinata couldn’t recall seeing them.

HInata had befriended Mitsu earlier in the season, and they bonded over being the butt of Tsukishima’s short jokes. It took them a while to get comfortable around the team, but they warmed up soon enough. At first, it was a Karasuno secret, but then Hinata had to tell Kenma. So they became a Karasuno and Nekoma secret. But of course, Kuroo mentioned them to Bokuto, and the news spread from there. It was now common knowledge among the teams that Hinata had a tiny friend.

Hinata looked at their friendship fondly, but he was currently panicking. He didn’t know where they could be. How did they manage to get lost anyway? Mitsu loved sitting on Hinata’s shoulder, which they did most of the time. They must’ve gotten swept away in the crowd. How were they supposed to fend for themselves against a bunch of other teams? These were other teams Hinata was certain wouldn’t treat her with the same respect Karasuno did. He could only imagine what would happen if someone like Ushijima or Terushima found them. 

Daichi was doing his best damage control, trying to console him. “They’re going to be okay, Hinata. They took care of themselves before they knew you, didn’t they? We’ll find them tomorrow.”

Hinata was beside himself. “This is all my fault. I should’ve kept a better eye on them. Now they’re who knows where? They hate being by themselves in crowds. Will they be okay?” Despite his ramblings, Daichi led him to the bus. Hinata reluctantly got on, casting a longing glance at the front of the Sendai gym before Kageyama yanked him onto the bus. 

“OW! Kageyama!”

————————————————————————————-------

Mitsu was trying to stay calm. They had been separated from Hinata and Kageyama at some point during Interhigh. It was tough searching for the team. Their black uniforms blended in among the sea of people swarming the gyms and walkways. They spent all afternoon trying to avoid being stepped on and hit by stray volleyballs. Put simply, they were exhausted and just wanted to rest in the bed Hinata had dutifully made for them. 

Except that wasn’t an option. 

The last match of the evening was Shiratorizawa against some other team. Mitsu recalled how bummed Hinata had been that the team was leaving before the match started. Now they were bummed that the team had probably left the venue already. No, bummed was the wrong word. They were devastated.

It wasn’t like they didn’t know how to handle themselves, and Karasuno was coming back the next day. What stressed them out was being all alone in such a crowded place. Students and players were still openly roaming around since the last match was still in play. 

As weird as it was at first, Mitsu had grown accustomed to the company of Hinata and the team. They used to be fiercely independent because borrowers like them tended to live alone. However, once they met Hinata and the rest of the team, they preferred having at least one human around them. 

Mitsu went on many of Karasuno’s trips, mostly as a morale booster. They would get nervous on these trips because they were surrounded by unfamiliar giants whose habits they were unaware of. Mitsu didn’t know if they’d be a novelty to others or seen as a person. Being close to someone they knew could protect them, like Daichi or Asahi, made Mitsu feel more secure when traveling. And now they were alone. 

A loud thud brought them back to reality. Every step rumbled the ground as they stood against the baseboard in a hallway. There were so many people, so many prying eyes. Mitsu wanted to be completely alone, away from any humans. They needed to figure out what they were doing for the night. Thinking quickly, they slipped underneath a nearby door into a quiet room. 

“Finally, some peace,” they muttered. The room appeared empty and looked similar to Karasuno’s makeshift locker room. Mitsu smiled, figuring the team occupying that locker room had cleared out for the day. As they walked into the room, they noticed a few discarded towels and shirts. 

“That’s a good start for something to sleep on,” They thought to themselves. “But where to sleep…” They didn’t venture over to the towels quite yet. Instead, they walked around the perimeter of the entire room, tapping the wall as they went. Mitsu hoped that there would be at least one hollow spot. They thought that maybe a borrower had lived here before. 

It was to no avail. The walls were solid and rather new from what they could tell. Any tampering they did to these walls would be noticed almost immediately. They huffed at the thought of sleeping in the open. It felt so exposed. There wasn’t much to be done about it though, so Mitsu succumbed to the idea. 

They walked over to the towels in the middle of the room. Sure, a shirt would be more comfy, but they only enjoyed sleeping on clean shirts. They weren’t spending all night in a random, smelly, sweaty shirt. As they felt the fabric, they noticed the towels weren’t terrible in comparison. This would keep them comfy enough for the night. 

Mitsu grabbed the edge of the towel and began dragging it to the corner. If they had to sleep in the open, they’d at least be discrete about it. 

That’s when they heard the dreaded sound of the door opening. They had no time to react; they could only stare as the door opened and revealed two towering figures. Mitsu’s brain buffered as they registered who these figures were. 

“Hurry up and grab your stupid shirt, Oikawa! The bus isn’t going to wait all day for you.”

“Okay, okay, don’t throw that! I’m going, Iwa-chan!”

Mitsu flinched at every step as Oikawa hurried into the room. Their instincts finally came back to them as they scrambled under the towel. After a second, they barely peeked out to keep an eye on what was going on. This was just in time for Mitsu’s world to shake as Oikawa stepped right over her.

Their eyes were wide as Oikawa headed over to the very shirts that Mitsu had contemplated sleeping in. He easily gathered the shirts and turned to look in the bathroom. “Oh, Iwa-chan! My hairbrush is in here! If we never went back, I never would have found it,” He said with a cheeky smile. 

Even though Mitsu couldn’t see Iwaizumi from where they were, they could tell he was getting irritated. “Be quick about it. We’re late enough as is.” He snapped. Oikawa dashed into the bathroom, and they relaxed ever so slightly. Once the duo left, it’d be back to peace and quiet.

Unfortunately, Mitsu had been so focused on Oikawa, that they failed to notice Iwaizumi’s movements. Their only warning was his grumbled words. “And he left the towels everywhere. Why can’t someone just pick up around here?” As soon as they registered his words, the towel they were hiding under was whisked away. 

Mitsu was almost taken with the towel but fell out of the folds a few inches off the ground. It wasn’t a big fall, but it was enough to catch Iwaizumi’s attention. They could feel his gaze, so they slowly turned around. His shoes were only a few feet away from them. They grimaced and turned their head up to see his face. 

His facial expression was difficult to place, but he still looked plenty intimidating to Mitsu. If she had to guess, he looked slightly weirded out, but also over the entire situation. They had listened to Hinata prattle on and on about Aoba Johsai. He had mentioned what they were like on the court, but that didn’t matter. Mitsu could only remember how scary Hinata said they were off the court.

On the other hand, Iwaizumi was downright confused. He had known about Mitsu, but never put much thought into… well… their existence. Now that they were right in front of him, he didn’t know what to think. They were just so small. He couldn’t even make out their facial expression from here. His shadow completely engulfed the area where they stood. 

Iwaizumi wasn’t short, but he always felt that way when compared to some of his teammates. Right now, he felt gigantic. He didn’t know how to feel about that.

Before the two could stand there and gawk at each other for another five minutes, Oikawa emerged from the bathroom. “Okay! I grabbed my brush, touched up my hair, and…” he trailed off. He had expected Iwaizumi to have interrupted him by now. But Iwa was staring at the floor. Oikawa followed his gaze and noticed Mitsu on the floor. 

Oikawa basically slid across the floor for a better look, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “So you’re the shrimp’s little buddy!” He said. Mistu recoiled from his quick advance. He was way too close for comfort. And they didn’t like that curiosity in his expression. “Shouldn’t you be with the rest of those weirdos? Consoling them about how they’ll lose to us tomorrow?”

Mitsu didn’t respond at first, although they rolled their eyes mentally. They had full confidence that Karasuno would win. And now more than ever, they wanted to see the look on Oikawa’s face when Karasuno won. Too bad they’d have to wait until tomorrow to see that. That is, if they made it through the night. At the moment, they had much bigger fish to fry. 

[obwjam]

CH 1- Piecing Things Together

After a terrifying series of events, a borrower named Evie goes to check on the resident giant of the house. What she finds instead is his twin brother. Now, Evie and Stan must put aside their differences and work together to bring Ford home.

Idea formed in collaboration with @obwjam. Check them out!

~~~

Ford ordered her to stay away, but after the floating and crashing and yelling from the previous night, she couldn’t do nothing any longer.

The last time she saw him, he looked bad. He had deep bags under his bloodshot eyes, one of which bled lightly but consistently. His clothes were rumpled and reeked as if they hadn’t been washed in months. He rambled on about his muse and his portal and he was paranoid beyond belief. He confessed that if Evie didn’t stay away, he was scared ‘he’ might hurt her. She had no idea who ‘he’ was.

Of course she put up a fight, but she eventually did as she was told. It may have had something to do with the way he tried to tear into the walls one night, hollering for her in a voice that was not his own. Now, she began to regret that decision. What if he seriously hurt himself, or someone else?

It wasn’t hard to find him, because ever since that 'falling out’ with Fiddleford, he was the only person who occupied the house. He still looked horrendous, but strangely, not as bad as before, though everything was slightly…off…like she was looking at a mirrored version of him. He wasn’t wearing his glasses and his hair was longer and he sported a stained t-shirt and torn sweatpants, and Evie asked herself how long it had really been since she’d last seen him. It couldn’t have been that long…

“I know you told me to stay away but I can’t sit here and let you destroy yourself. If you just told me what’s going on, then maybe-”

Ford turned around and, upon seeing her, screamed. He launched the journal he held at her and stumbled backwards.

Evie just barely retreated into the wall before the heavy journal collided with the bookshelf and fell to the floor. It shook the whole structure and her heart pounded at the close call, but she ran back out to the edge of the shelf anyway and gestured at the book on the floor. “See, that’s what I’m talking about! You need help!”

“What-?” Ford exclaimed, still recovering from being startled.

“Wh - it’s me. You need your glasses that bad?” she laughed nervously. Evie didn’t know of any other people her size, especially ones that Ford acquainted himself with, so it wasn’t like he mistook her for someone else. Did he really not recognize her?

“Uhhh,” Ford’s eyes darted back and forth in confusion.

“Ford, look at me. What’s wrong?”

His face fell in realization and suddenly he had a very hard time making eye contact. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Ah, look, tiny...thing, I’m not…I’m not Stanford.”

Evie blinked. For now, she was willing to play along, if only to see where his head was at. “Okay…then who are you?”

“I’m Stan. Stanley Pines. I’m his…brother.”

“Right,” she trailed off. “ ‘Ford’ never mentioned having a brother.”

Ford, or ‘Stan’, hardened. “Yeah, well he didn’t mention having a pipsqueak pet, either!”

Evie didn’t offend easily. She wasn’t usually self-conscious about her size anymore, and she took a lot of things in stride, but she was not anyone’s pet, and she would not let this man, whoever he was, refer to her as such. “Let’s get one thing straight. I am nobody’s pet. And if you’re not Ford, then where is he?”

The man’s voice continuously rose as he spoke. “None of your business, that’s where. Now why don’t you go back to whatever hole you crawled out of, because Ford ain’t coming back!” He turned to leave the room.

Evie refused to believe this. “Hey! Don’t you walk away! You owe me answers! You threaten me then push me away then pretend to be somebody else? What is going on?!”

Stan whipped around and marched right up to the bookshelf. He poked her chest - hard - and she fell backwards, all of the wind knocked out of her. Nervous at the aggressive shift in his demeanor, she retreated toward the wall, rubbing her chest.

Stan brought his face incredibly close, filling out her whole field of view, and Evie gulped. “I don’t owe nobody nothing, sweetheart,” he said quietly. His hot breath washed over her, ruffling her hair. At this scale, his anger was impossible to ignore. For the first time in a long time, Evie was scared to speak to a giant. She was scared to even be in the presence of a giant. She wanted to shrink into herself and disappear, if only to get rid of his dark stare that resembled Ford’s in every way.

She waited with baited breath for him to make a move, but whatever he was going to say, he seemed to have changed his mind. He turned away again.

Evie wanted to let this go. Every instinct screamed at her to shut her mouth and return to safety. But if this wasn’t Ford, then he was out there somewhere, and this supposed brother of his was keeping it a secret. She had to know why. So, against her better judgment, Evie spoke up.

“Does it have to do with the portal?”

Stan froze but did not turn around to face her.

Carefully, Evie pushed herself to a seat. “If you tell me what happened, I might be able to help bring him back.”

Stan laughed. “Ha! What’s someone like you going to do?”

It wasn’t the first time Evie was underestimated because of her size. His dismissal hardly even phased her. “I can read those journals. I understand the code. I can help piece things together.”

Stan finally turned around and slowly approached the shelf. He set his fingertips on the edge, which made Evie flinch away, scared he would push her over again, or worse, grab her. At that point, she’d be helpless.

“What, is that minuscule head of yours too small to understand?" He lightly tapped the side of her head, and Evie's breath hitched. It was everything she could do not to fall over, but her neck strained against him as a result. "Ford’s gone. He’s not. Coming. Back.” By the end of his sentence, Stan's resolve had already slipped. He added, “I’m sorry, kid.”

Evie lost it. She began to hyperventilate as tears poured out of her eyes. This was all her fault. She ran up to Stan’s hand, the only thing in the vicinity she could take her frustration out on, and punched and kicked it repeatedly, so hard that she thought she might break her own knuckles.

“Don’t say that! Don’t say that because I’m his best friend and he’s my best friend and we’re all we have! I can’t lose him! Not after Fidds! I can’t-”

Evie’s tirade was cut short when Stan hoisted her up by the back of her jacket like a kitten. “Woah, woah, take it easy.”

But she continued to swing at the open air, willing the fingers to drop her. “Ford, put me down!”

Stan grimaced at the use of his brother’s name. The poor thing looked so pitiful, dangling there by her jacket, unable to shake herself loose. She desperately wanted to believe that he was Ford. He wished it were Ford that was here, too, instead of him. He’d know what to do.

Instead of obeying her demand, Stan let her tire herself out. He watched, ever so slightly amused, as she clawed at his fingernail, he watched as she tried to slip out of her jacket, and slowly but surely, her struggles died out. All that was left was a sobbing mess that swayed in time with the miniscule movements of his hand, and Stan realized that this was almost definitely worse. A fight, he knew how to deal with. Crying? That was a different story.

Evie sniffled. “He can’t be gone…”

The guilt hit Stan like a truck. And she didn’t even know that he was responsible for this whole mess. Sort of. Ford did invite him over, and he diddemand that Stan get as far away as possible, like he knew everything and Stan knew nothing, like……Unhelpful train of thought.

Stan picked up the journal off the floor and brought it and the little thing over to a cluttered desk. He dropped her on an open page and watched as she got her bearings. “Welp, you said you can help piece things together. Piece them together, then,” he said, crossing his arms.

Evie glanced up at him in surprise, then down at the journal underneath her. She wiped her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, let’s…yeah.”

As she worked on turning the heavy pages to find what she was looking for, she asked Stan about what happened. He explained that Ford did go through the portal, and it collapsed behind him. He had no idea where it went or how to turn it back on, but if he did, maybe they could bring Ford back. But it was a very strong maybe. It was clear they were both in way over their heads.

“Let’s hope,” Evie muttered, struggling with getting the page overhead. It flopped back down overtop of her, no matter what angle she pushed from.

Stan took pity on her and flipped the page. Evie stared at him incredulously, baffled by the fact that he could turn it so easily. She shook her head and continued to search for the passages she was thinking of.

And that’s how they worked. Evie found and interpreted the information and Stan did all the hands-on work. It would be a long road with a lot of snags and a lot of quirks to get used to, just by nature of working with someone who was so different . Evie tried her best to ignore the fact that he shared a face with Ford. But they found a sort of equilibrium, and though the loss of Ford was painful, they at least had someone by their side who understood. Nobody else understood. But Evie and Stan? They understood.

.

Next

[obwjam]

CH 1- Origin: Mystery Shack, Gravity Falls, Oregon

In which a borrower forms an unlikely alliance with Ford Pines.

~

Everything was fine until the new guy showed up.

Life wasn’t necessarily cozy beforehand - she still had to keep an eye out for the nosy humans that milled about (especially the boy) - but this guy took nosy to a whole new level.

One day, everything was normal. The next, gravity just stopped working in short bursts. The next, there was a new, mysterious man in her home that snooped around, studied the supernatural, and shared a face with the man that already lived here. Quinn’s life was certifiably weird.

Weird enough that one night, she found herself atop this guy’s journal, reading his musings. It was a bad idea. Quinn knew that well before she even climbed up the table. But she always had this yearning deep inside her, this need to know more. The town they lived in was full of strange, magical beings, and she wanted to know all about it. Maybe she’d finally find out where she came from or why she was so different. And it wasn’t fair that humans got to have all the answers, just because they were bigger. So a few moments of reading wouldn’t hurt.

At least, that’s what she thought. The more Quinn read, the more her mind strained, which gave her a massive headache. According to this guy, he came out of an interdimensional portal that he was stuck in for thirty years because his twin brother Stanley (the old man whose walls Quinn lived in) wanted to bring him back after accidentally pushing him in. There were mentions of a memory ray, the U.S. government, dimensional rifts…Oh boy.

The page ended with:

First, I must focus on the present and on the problems created by a man who is responsible for my latest twist of fate…

And that was it. That was all Quinn would get to read for now. She likely wouldn’t be able to turn the heavy page, and even if she could, the racket would definitely wake the sleeping human nearby.

Speaking of, the room was suspiciously quiet, outside the ever-present buzz of machinery. The man’s faint snoring had stopped while she was lost in the book.

As the reality of the situation set in, Quinn turned around just in time to be knocked off her feet by a solid wall longer than she was tall. It slammed into her with the force of a semi-truck, squeezed her tight, and swept her into the air. She then found herself freefalling, and at last collided with the ground.

Quinn thought she had a headache before, but the impact with the wall and the hard ground combined with the dizzying speed with which she was yanked around made it infinitely worse.

She blinked open her eyes, wondering what could possibly have happened. And the sight was so horrific that she retched, on the verge of throwing up. She was caught. She was caught by the human and was thrown into a jar and he had her right where he wanted her.

He studied her with squinted eyes, scanning her whole body up and down and up and down. He hummed to himself, then wrote some notes in his journal. The process repeated.

Quinn had to force herself to breathe. In and out. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. His face was so big, his demeanor so intense, his attitude so…detached. In and out. But all knowledge of how to breathe fell out the window when he addressed her.

“What are you? Can you speak?”

His voice echoed inside the jar, bouncing around and assaulting her ears. She cried out, covering them.

The man’s eyes widened. “Fascinating.” He wrote something down in the journal.

“Wh-What are you writing?” Quinn asked hesitantly. He couldn’t document her there. Nobody was supposed to know about her. She learned that lesson the hard way a long time ago.

The man’s head snapped back toward her at full attention. He looked at her expectantly, but Quinn didn’t know what he wanted her to do. “Say something else,” he prompted, his pen at the ready. So he heard her, he just didn’t listen to her.

“What are you writing?” she repeated, louder.

“Yes, yes, you said that already. Say something different.”

Oh, so he didn’t actually care what she had to say, too tickled by the notion that she could even speak at all. She could say anything in the world and it would have no impact. She watched as he thoughtfully tapped his pen to his chin. And that’s when she noticed perhaps the strangest thing she’d ever seen. “You have six fingers!” she blurted.

This seemed to delight the man, and yet again he wrote something down. “Observational skills…” he muttered under his breath.

Six fingers. As if she wasn’t already scared of a normal human hand. This one had one more digit just to knock her over with, to hold her captive, to obscure her from the world. “It’s like you were specifically designed to terrify me,” she laughed wryly.

“Tell me,” he said, ignoring her, “Were you a human that was shrunk? Did you find the crystals in the forest? Or are you some kind of wingless fairy?”

“What the heck is a fairy?”

“Hmmm.” With that, the man grabbed the jar with both hands, casting Quinn in a dark shadow. She eyed each of the twelve fingers coiling nearly all the way around the jar, the only barrier between her and the fingers, the only thing stopping the fingers from closing in. He picked it up and set it on a high shelf, then left the room.

“Wait! Wait, you can’t leave me in here! WAIT!” she cried. Once the rumbling footsteps faded, Quinn collapsed to a seat, defeated. So this was her life now. Some experiment of a mad scientist in a musky, old basement. Would he study her and poke and prod her all day? Would he take her through an ‘interdimensional portal’? Or would he forget about her and leave her here to die, distracted by some newer, more exciting creature? Whatever the case, it was completely out of her hands. Her life belonged to a crazy giant.

BANG !

The loud noise startled Quinn out of her pity party. Next to her, a large, green, slimy being with tentacles had thrown itself into the walls of its own jar. It had one menacing eye that told her all she needed to know. It wanted to eat her.

Quinn instinctively retreated to the other side of her prison, as far away from the monstrosity as she physically could. It seemed contained, but if it broke the glass, she was done for.

She sighed, watching it repeatedly ram into the walls. It was another one of the man’s specimens, just like her. She wondered if it had once been a normal, peaceful creature, but its time in the jar drove it mad. It was probably starving. She couldn’t say she blamed it.

Quinn looked around. She was done moping. She needed to work on an active solution. And she might have just found something that could work.

The lid of the jar was closed tight, but the man at least cared enough to use a lid with holes in it so that she could breathe. They were tiny, tiny holes, but there was only one way to find out if she could squeeze through them.

Quinn easily pulled out her hook, caught it on one of the holes, and climbed to the top. Just as she thought, the holes were indeed too small. She could fit her arm through, she could fit a leg through, but nothing would get her fat head through.

But she climbed all the way up here. She wasn’t going to let this man make her into some plaything. With all her might, Quinn shoved at the hole, trying to loosen the lid from the inside. Needing more leverage, she squeezed her climbing thread with her legs, balancing precariously as she used both hands to push.

The ground shook. Footsteps sounded in the distance, getting closer and closer with each second.

Come on! Push!

Quinn made the mistake of looking to see who it was. She locked eyes with the man. He had returned, and she was caught trying to escape.

“Holy molasses!”

The frighteningly loud exclamation startled Quinn right off her thread, and she fell to the bottom of the jar, letting out an unintentional exclamation. She shakily pushed herself to her feet and backed up, hands raised as if she could legitimately fight off the giant.

But when she really looked at him, she faltered, her balled fists dropping a hair. This wasn’t the man. It was his brother, Stan. And it was worth a shot.

“Please,” Quinn said, running to the side of the jar closest to him. “Please, you’ve gotta get me out of here. That man put me in here, and I can’t-”

“Woah, Ford put you in there? Yeah, I’m not surprised. What are you, some kind of fairy?”

“What? No, I’m not - I’m scared there’s not much time. Please!” By now, Quinn really wanted to know what a ‘fairy’ was, but there was a larger issue at hand.

Stan looked hesitant. “I don’t know…Who’s to say you’re not some supernatural being that’ll kill me as soon as I let you out?”

Quinn was baffled. “Look at me!” she cried. Her eyes started to well up, and she could feel the tears about to spill over any minute now. She sniffled.

Stan suddenly looked very uncomfortable, like he wanted to be anywhere but here. “Oh - oh, gross, it’s crying. Uh…If I let you out, will you stop doing that?” But he was already moving toward the jar. He slowly unscrewed the lid, set it to the side, and plucked the little creature out by its leg.

Quinn yelped as two massive fingers pinched her foot, hoisting her into the air. She dangled in front of his face, trying to catch her bearings while fighting the fingers that held her captive.

“Haha, you are small! Say, kid, you want a job?”

“Huh???” It was hard to think with the blood pooling in her brain.

“Yeah, yeah, come to the Mystery Shack to see the world’s smallest person!” His eyes lit up as he saw it all play out before him. Crowds, money, fame, more money…

If Quinn heard that right, it sounded like she would be put on display for all the world to see like those other strange things scattered throughout his weird mystery museum. That was not going to happen.

“Stanley! Put that down!”

Uh oh. The man was back. Ford, Stan had called him.

“C’mon? This thing? It’s harmless!” He gave Quinn’s leg a little shake for emphasis, and she grasped her stomach to keep from throwing up.

“You don’t know that!” Ford came rushing at them, and Quinn flinched away as best she could. She now dangled by the leg between two giants who were very close to an argument. Claustrophobia crept up on her.

Stan lifted her up further and held her out to Ford as if to show how non-threatening she was, and it felt like her ankle ripped out of its socket from the quick movement.

Now out in the open air, Ford took the opportunity to snatch her out of Stan’s hands. Quinn groaned, then remembered she was supposed to be fighting back. But once again, she was unceremoniously dropped back in the jar. Back to square one. This time though, she had two giants peering in at her, both wearing the same face. It was eerie.

Before Ford could screw the lid back on, she held up her hands placatingly. They shook so hard she was sure the humans could see it.

“Wait! Okay, hear me out. You’re curious about me. I get that. But I’m curious about me too. I - I don’t know why I’m smaller than every other person in the world, but I want to find out, and I could really use your help. I just - please don’t put me away in a jar. Please.”

Ford hummed again, deep in thought. Quinn’s fate was up to him. This one decision.

“Alright,” he shrugged. He turned the jar upside down and Quinn came tumbling out, head over heels, onto the desk. She took a moment to catch her breath. Her plan worked, but she didn’t feel much better.

***

Quinn’s time with Ford was rough, to say the least. He had no qualms about poking and prodding her. The only real advantages she gained from her negotiation were regular access to food (which she had to remind Ford of, as he was often blind to the passage of time) and freedom to move around. At least, to an extent.

Quinn was suddenly yanked back from her position on Ford’s desk, all six of his fingers closed tight around her, and she was deposited in the center, right under his nose.

“Don’t wander too far. I’ll need you,” Ford said, but his eyes didn’t leave the journal. He had this uncanny ability to never let Quinn out of his sight without even looking at her. He always had her right where he wanted her, and she’d hardly gotten a moment of privacy since the day he caught her.

Quinn threw her arms in the air, exasperated. It wasn’t like she would’ve gotten far. If Ford needed her, he could just say, “Hey Quinn, I need you,” and she could use her own two legs to walk the negligible distance. But he still never bothered to ask her name and he just grabbed her whenever he pleased. He didn’t see her as a person. It was humiliating.

Quinn thought about standing up to him, or even just asking him politely not to do any of the things on the laundry list of annoying things he did. While Ford seemed to have no ill intent and he never purposefully harmed her, she felt how strong he was in the way he handled her. The thick muscles flexing beneath the skin. It wasn’t uncommon for him to squeeze a little too tight, to push a little too hard. And so any time she thought about speaking up, images of what could happen flashed through her mind, and the words died in her throat.

Lost in thought, Quinn didn’t notice the intruding fingers until they touched her. They held some kind of wire and wedged themselves under her arms to wrap that wire around her middle. Even then, Quinn could feel the force with which her arms were shoved upward. It wouldn’t take much more effort to snap them off completely. This was why Quinn didn’t speak up.

But she did want to know why wires were being wrapped around her. She jumped when the cold casings touched her skin. She jumped again when a loud, rhythmic beeping started up behind and above her. It picked up pace, and she soon realized that it echoed in time with her heartbeat.

“Your heart’s going a mile a minute!”

At the sound of Ford’s booming voice, the speed of the beeping increased even more. More still when they made eye contact.

A realization struck him. “Oh, I see. There’s no need to fear. You’ll be fine,” he said matter-of-factly. On the word ‘fine’, the beeping got faster.

Ford frowned and hummed to himself. (That annoying hum. The one that showcased to the world that he was thinking. And he was never not thinking.) With much slower, restrained movements, he reached toward her. Quinn had been willing him to move slower ever since they met. Everything humans did always seemed to happen at a blinding speed, and for once, she wished they would just slow down. But now that he did, Quinn hated it. Sure, she also hated the whiplash from being whisked around at human speed, but as she sat there, feeling the seconds drag on, dread blossomed in her chest. It grew with each passing moment. Each moment was a moment closer to getting grabbed - each moment the hands grew and grew and grew as they got closer and closer and closer, towering over her, casting her in their shadow - and she found herself wanting him to get it over with already.

Quinn backed up, confusion and fear duking it out in her head. She was vaguely aware of the ever-accelerating beeping.

Ford snagged one of the wires wrapped around her chest, stopping her in her tracks and holding her in place. Quinn let out a shaky breath and watched as he carefully undid the contraption. His hands were so big that they blocked her whole field of view. All she could see was a mess of fingers working in front of her, jostling her this way and that, until they pulled away and let the wires fall to the surface of the desk.

“I can assure you that I am careful, precise, and intentional. These experiments will help me get a baseline understanding of what you are and how your body and brain function. I didn’t intend to scare you.”

He didn’t intend to scare her? He could’ve fooled Quinn.

Regardless, when she didn’t respond, he returned to his journal. After an awkward pause, he said, “You may go.”

That was it.

“I may go? You haven’t told me anything about what’s going on!”

Ford looked up, mildly surprised by the long sentence and the angry tone within it. He hadn’t seen anything like this from her yet. “There’s nothing to tell,” he said, disappointed. The slow pace with which new discoveries arose was disappointing.

“Yeah, but you grab me, you wrap me in wires, you take measurements, and I don’t even know what they’re for. You write little notes in your journal about me but don’t tell me what they say. I mean, I’m a person! You know I’m a person, right?”

“Of course you’re a person. The real question is whether or not you are human. My knee jerk reaction is to say no. But a person? I have no doubt-”

“Well I don’t feel like one when you’re around.”

Silence filled the air and Quinn wondered if she’d gone too far. She tried to read his face, but it was blank, as per usual. And somehow that was even more terrifying than anger.

Suddenly, Ford pushed his journal along the desk toward her. Quinn backed up in surprise, but the journal stopped a couple relative inches away from her feet. She glanced up at Ford again, who nodded at the book. He wanted her…to read it?

Tentatively, she climbed on top and took in the words on the page, as well as a drawing of her with measurements written alongside it. It looked exactly like her. It was no different than the other illustrations in the journal, she was just another strange anomaly of Gravity Falls. The notion left an uneasy feeling in her stomach, but she was too curious not to read what he thought about her.

The girl appears human in all regards except for size. Is this enough to categorize her as a separate species entirely? She insists that she did not meddle with the height-altering crystals hidden deep within the forest, but further testing is required. Could it be genetic? A curse passed on through the generations?

“Quinn,” Quinn said.

“Pardon?”

“My name is Quinn. Not, ‘the girl’.”

“Ah, yes, where are my manners? Stanford Pines.”

Quinn couldn’t help but laugh. It had already been a number of days spent together, but she wasn’t so sure Ford knew that. He hardly left the basement. In any case, it was more than enough time to learn his name. And it should have been more than enough time for him to learn hers. If he wasn’t over one hundred feet tall and holding her captive, this behavior would almost be endearing. Almost. “I know.”

“Well, Quinn, feel free to add any contributions you deem necessary. There’s scrap paper everywhere. Please try and write as large as possible.” Ford pushed himself to his feet and began gathering equipment.

“Where are you going?” Quinn asked.

“To collect a sample of crystal.”

“I want to come with you.”

Ford laughed. “No, no, it’s too dangerous for me. It’s much too dangerous for someone your size.” With that said, he left.

Quinn didn’t waste too much time sulking. Ford hardly listened to her to begin with, so there was almost no chance he would take her with him. It was for the best, though. That would be putting a lot of trust in a man who forgot to feed himself on more than one occasion.

So, instead, she busied herself with the journal. A particular passage stuck out to her.

She is very reactive to my every move. I would describe the behavior as anxious and fidgety, not so different from Dipper’s default state of being. Perhaps over time, I can gain her trust and she will calm down.

Yikes. Part of her was angry at the fact that he acknowledged her anxious behavior and still chose to act the way he did, but a larger part of her was just embarrassed. Next time, she’d insist on going outside with him. To show him that she wasn’t just some small, skittish animal. She could be a helpful resource. And to prove this, she filled in a spot in the journal, writing as large as possible but still falling short of the man’s big, curvy lettering.

Origin: ??? Mystery Shack, Gravity Falls, Oregon

The now familiar sound of footsteps tromping down the stairs made its way to her ears.

It was Stan, who Quinn hadn’t seen since that first day. Her defenses were instantly up, especially without Ford around to stop anything from escalating.

But Stan seemed to be in a good mood. “Hey, glad to see my brother didn’t kill you!” Before Quinn could ask for clarification, he continued. “Where is the loser, anyway?”

Quinn stammered, trying to find words. “Um, uh, he went…outside.”

“And left you down here? Yeesh.” As he spoke, Stan picked up a piece of paper (that looked like it had mostly been eaten away by some kind of acid) by the corner and regarded it with distaste. He let it fall to the floor and returned his attention to Quinn. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

Without waiting for an answer, he scooped Quinn up and set her on his shoulder. She screamed. Even though she should have been plenty used to this by now, this was a virtual stranger who, last time they met, wanted to make her an exhibit in his wacky gift shop. His hands also felt distinctly different than Ford’s. Quinn didn’t like that she could tell the difference.

What wasn’t any different though, was the sheer strength in each hand, so whether it was Stan or Ford, she wasn’t getting out until they let her out.

And he let her out…right on his shoulder.

Quinn felt the cushioned fabric underneath her and wondered absently if the man wore shoulder pads. That thought vanished when he started to move, and she was left clinging on for dear life as he climbed up the stairs.

This was unlike anything she’d ever done before. To her left was a giant ear about as big as her. To her right: absolutely nothing. Open air. And underneath her, a living, breathing human, taking her…somewhere. Anywhere. Out of the basement.

A strong mix of excitement and anxiety filled each and every one of her bones to the point that they felt like they were vibrating. She was getting out of the basement! She would get fresh air! Sunlight! God, she missed sunlight.

But to leave the basement was to enter a whole new world. She’d seen the entire ‘Mystery Shack’ from her vantage points in the walls, but to be in the middle of it, out in the open among other humans milling about with only Stanley Pines as her protection, was not for the faint of heart. And Quinn’s heart was feeling pretty faint.

***

A high pitched shriek so ear piercing that it ruptured the sound barrier poured out of one of the small children. Well, small being relative. The girl regarded Quinn with a bit lip and sparkling eyes. “Oh my gosh!” she squealed. She immediately tried to jump up and snatch Quinn off Stan’s shoulder.

Stan angled his shoulder away, but if Quinn thought he was trying to protect her, she was dead wrong. “Woah, easy kid,” he laughed. The sensation of his voice rumbling underneath her at such an amplified volume made her jump. He wrapped his hand around her and set her on the table so the twins could get a better look. 

“Nonononono, hang on!” Quinn blurted, but it was useless. She was surrounded on all sides by humans, two of which were literal children. A strong force shoved at her back and she stumbled forward. Stan had nudged her.

The girl, Mabel, leaned in close and rested her chin on the table. “You’re adorable ! You’re like, so tiny I could put you away in my pocket and take you on adventures and we could solve crimes together! Quick question: Do you have any tiny hats?”

Quinn let out an uneasy laugh. “Uh…no.” She backed up a little, afraid that Mabel would just shove her in her pocket anyway, but the boy, Dipper, spoke up from behind her.

“Why are you so small?” His inquisitive eyes reminded her of Ford’s.

“I don’t know,” Quinn whispered. “That’s what your…grunkle,” She looked at Stan for confirmation on the strange word, who nodded, “Ford is trying to figure out.”

“Wait, that’s what he’s been doing? How long have you been down there?”

Quinn shrugged. Her neck was starting to itch uncomfortably under the scrutiny.

“Boring!” Mabel whined. “Let’s show her big people things.” Her eyes brightened. “Have you ever had popcorn?”

***

The twins found it incredibly amusing to watch her eat human sized food. Every time she hefted up a piece of popcorn, Mabel let out the same shrill noise that Quinn learned indicated joy. Dipper seemed to find it funny too, though his reaction was much more subdued. But she was just eating. She wasn’t sure what was so ‘adorable’ about it.

At one point, the kids tried to convince Quinn to ride Mabel’s pet pig like a knight on a horse going into battle, but she saw the way that pig chewed on everything. She would be lucky to make it out unscathed. The comments, she could put up with. The fawning over her interactions with food, she could more than put up with. (Food was food.) But this was where she drew the line.

The front door slammed and, before anyone could catch him, Ford stomped right past them and straight into the basement.

Quinn thought about calling out to him, but despite all odds, she was kind of having fun up here. They invaded her personal space without qualms all the same, and if she thought too much about the future (particularly whether Mabel would let her go), she got antsy and nervous. But they were having fun with her, not at her expense. Quinn got the feeling that, if she truly freaked out, they would ease up. That was not always the case with Ford.

They were in the middle of a game to see who could launch the most walnuts into Stan’s mouth (Quinn was losing horribly) when the basement door burst open. Quinn leapt what felt like twenty feet in the air and only relaxed slightly when she saw it was Ford.

“Ah, there you are,” he said when he located her on the table. “Come along.”

Everyone booed him.

“Ducktective will be on in a couple minutes, and Quinn said she’s never seen TV before. Can you believe it? TV!” Mabel said.

“I have a crystal waiting in the basement. It’s at its strongest when-”

“I don’t want to,” Quinn said firmly. Her voice sounded very quiet compared to his, but her stance was firm. Perhaps she was emboldened by the fellow giants around her, who all seemed to want her to stick around. Perhaps she was just sick of Ford’s ‘experiments’.

Ford didn’t waver. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He made a move toward her, like he was going to snatch her up. Quinn instinctively backed away, but as she did, Stan shot to his feet and placed himself between her and Ford. One second, Ford was coming at her, and the next, a solid wall blocked everything from sight. Stan moved so fast that Quinn wasn’t even sure what happened until he spoke.

“The lady said no.” His tone was impressively combative. Quinn stayed on guard. With so much tension in the air, she couldn’t be sure she was entirely safe in this situation. If a fight started, she wanted out.

Everyone held their breath.

“Fine,” Ford said shortly, though Quinn couldn’t get a read on his inflection and she couldn't see his face. As soon as he disappeared, Stan flopped back into his worn, yellow chair.

“Um…thank you?” she tried, still trying to shake off the stress.

“Ha! Don’t flatter yourself. I’ll take any opportunity I can to pick a fight with my smarty pants brother. And win.” He popped another walnut in his mouth and ruffled Quinn’s hair with his knuckle.  Her neck cracked and she nervously pulled away from the massive finger.

Mabel announced that the TV show was starting, so they all quieted down. Quinn tried to follow along. She really did. But there was a duck that definitely quacked like a duck, yet apparently all the characters in the show could understand it anyway, and there was mystery and murder and a twin duck and honestly she had a really hard time keeping everything straight.

It didn’t help that she could hear each breath the giants took, could hear them munching on food as big as her. They had been nothing but kind, albeit touchy, but it was hard to forget the way Ford and Stan easily plucked her up whenever they wanted her to be elsewhere. The anticipation of even the possibility that that would happen again was enough to keep her on edge and distracted.

And occasionally, her mind wandered to Ford. Did she do the right thing, standing up to him? Was he mad? Did she care if he was mad?

Cursing her inability to ‘stay out of it’, Quinn got to her feet, lodged her hook in the table, and began her descent.

“Do you need any help?

Quinn jumped, then compensated by clenching the string tighter with all four of her limbs to keep from falling. She slowly lifted her gaze to make eye contact with Dipper. His huge face rose before her, a kind smile on his lips.

“No…thanks. Just watch your step. Please.”

“Okay,” he said, then returned his attention to the TV. And that was it. No push back. No grabbing. He just let her go about her business. (Though she did notice the way he watched her descent. It was unnerving, but overall harmless. He was just curious.) Quinn relaxed a hair, then finished her long, arduous journey to the basement. The old door was easy to duck under, but each stair felt like it took a lifetime to navigate.

When she made it to the concrete floor, she took in the state of the lab around her. It was an absolute mess. Papers everywhere, drawers pulled out, boxes upended. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say that Ford tore the place apart trying to find her. And speaking of Ford…

He sat at the desk, his head once again buried in his journal. He absently twirled a crystal in his hand and muttered unintelligible phrases to himself.

Quinn cleared her throat. His head snapped up and it took him a couple seconds to locate her.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

Ford strained to hear her, but he was pretty sure he heard an apology. “Ah, no reason to be sorry. I am quite alright.”

Quinn kicked her feet at the ground. “Well, thank you for helping me figure this out. I want you to know I do appreciate it, but… I can’t continue to live like this. It’s demeaning.”

Ford glanced away, maybe in embarrassment, maybe disinterested, maybe just thinking, it was hard to say. His eye caught something in the journal. “You’re not from the Mystery Shack.”

“Wh-”

“I wrote ‘origin’ in reference to your species, where you began. Not where you specifically are literally from.”

He picked up his pen to cross it out, but Quinn stopped him. “My mom lived here her whole life. Her dad lived here his whole life. But even before this place was built, we’ve been here for as long as anyone can remember. Stories dating back from my great-great-great grandma passed down. We’ve always been in Gravity Falls.”

Ford’s face lit up. “Interesting.”

“And I can tell you all about it, if you’d like,” Quinn added sheepishly. “I can tell you anything about me or my past or my family…if you promise to ask before picking me up and you tell me what you’re doing before you do it and you let me go about my own life.” She took a deep breath before continuing. Down on the ground, looking up at him, even from across the room and even while he was seated, was daunting. “I’m not gonna run away. I like you guys. You’re just big, and I’m gonna need time to get used to that. I can’t stop you at this size, and I can’t imagine you’d like to get whisked away by a giant with no idea what its intentions were.”

“Ha, it’s funny you mention that! The nightmare realm had quite the-” He stopped after he saw that train of thought would not prove useful. Instead, Ford stood and approached the impossibly tiny girl on the floor.

To Quinn, each step was a small earthquake. She thought about making a break for it, but Ford moved slowly, an attempt to appear non threatening. She knew logically that he could see her - his eyes never left her - but they were so high up and his dirty boots so big, it was hard not to retreat a couple defensive steps. Ford bent down next to her and reached for her.

Quinn let out a surprised yelp and tucked into a crouch, covering her face. This served the dual purpose of blocking the imposing sight of six fingers barreling toward her while also keeping her arms from getting pinned to her sides. The seconds dragged out, but still nothing happened.

Tentatively, Quinn peeked between her fingers. What laid in front of her was a large hand, over twice her size…But all it did was lay there. Confused, she looked up at Ford, whose face was neutral. “I think I can abide by those terms,” he said.

Quinn glanced between his face and hand repeatedly, to the point where it felt comical.

A faint smile spread across Ford’s face and he elaborated. “You know, I happened to come across the most curious creature while I was out looking for the crystals. I could use a hand hunting it down.”

Quinn jerked away when he wiggled his six fingers in invitation. But was this not what she asked for? She asked to go outside with him, and she asked him not to grab her. This was it.

After one last hesitant glance at Ford’s expectant face, she slowly inched toward the waiting hand. And then, she took her first step on the waiting hand. As soon as both feet were firmly planted, the hand skyrocketed into the air and Quinn fell to her hands and knees. She didn’t even have time to catch her bearings before the world tilted sideways and she fell, hollering all the way until she landed softly in a dark, dank enclosure.

As she tried to fumble her way to a stand, the ground shifted unpredictably. Each step threatened to send her sprawling again, and the fabric contorted around her every move. She had no idea where she was, but the faint light that poured in told her she should be able to climb ‘up’, and so that’s what she did.

Only when her face made contact with the light did she realize Ford had dumped her in the breast pocket of his coat. Wind rushed at her as he walked and the steady thumping behind her made itself known as his heartbeat.

Quinn didn’t know how she was supposed to feel. It made sense logically - Ford would need his hands free and she would be in no danger of falling to the ground, but the overwhelming bigness of everything around her made her feel unbelievably small. Even the pen that was clipped to the lip of the pocket was larger than her. His heartbeat drowned out her own thoughts. She could completely disappear in this pocket.

But maybe it would just take time to get used to. After all, she had a front row seat to all the action. She was close in case anything went awry. And more important than anything, she had a real chance to discover the reason for her small size. A chance to finally find answers.

When the fresh, outside air met Quinn’s face as Ford opened the front door, she knew that everything would be alright, and her life had certifiably changed for the better.

[obwjam]

Liaos would be into g/t

[obwjam]

will you put the ghostbusters fics in the masterlist? love your work🫶!

OMG how did i forget to do this 😭 they're all there now, thank u sm for the reminder 🙏🙏

i also added everything that i wrote since last november! so a few different fandoms/one shots are on there now

[obwjam]

saw the haikyuu movie last night and tell me why they HAD to include this visceral g/t moment because i was not expecting it… i was blindsided at an AMC

plus the bonus poster like. stop it. stop it!!! get some help (me @ myself)