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matrixbearer2024 · 2 months ago

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I currently have two AUs that I don't exactly know what to do with or what to properly call them LMFAO- I'll probably write something on Ao3 for it eventually since there's a ton of BillFord and FiddStan in there but yeah-

1st AU: Timelord Stanford (Dr Who what if)

This case was inspired by an RP I had with someone's Bill Cipher on @gftimelord where the triangle starts to be on the mend with Stanford after their ruined past. This to me makes sense because the Doctor is inherently very lonely despite the savior god complex. In that AU where Ford is functionally immortal and Stan and Fidds both at some point die due to his complacency and arrogance— he searches for a companion that can actually keep up with him.

So when Bill visits him during one of those window hours set by the Theraprism, they talk about the triangle's impending demise with their plans to essentially erase him from existence. It's not an outlandish idea given that any inpatient seen as a lost cause would or could be disposed of when it comes to cosmic entities. It's simply the easier option.

The doctor(Ford) is more impulsive, nonchalant, and egoistic compared to his counterparts because he does have the walk to back his talk(this man has been broken by the nightmares and guilt he carries from the deaths he caused; also time war) problem being he doesn't fear death as much as he fears being alone. He's had a fair share of close calls with the grim reaper, but always like some horrible twist he survives. After all, it is a saying that we covet the most what we don't have.

So yeah, he jailbreaks Bill essentially and whatever power limiter is stuck on the triangle get tied to his sonic screwdriver instead and they simply go around the multiverse doing whatever. Most of the reason why Ford isn't caught yet largely has to do with how scared most entities are of him. The doctor is never armed, but it doesn't mean he won't kill.

2nd AU: Modern Era AU (Set in 2024)

This one is more of a shitpost thanks to the young trio I drew a little while back, I'll draw more of them for this at some point while I also try and figure out a decent human Bill design that I like in my artstyle.

But this AU heavily features these four idiots as Undergrad students fucking about college life as they would. This AU is supposed to feature like a more cultivated genius Stanley based around my own dynamic with my brother since I do like me some happy Stan twins.

It just so happens that Ford is also a very much EQ negative idiot and falls for an upperclassman(one year his senior) in BSSE[Software Engineering] who is a close friend to Fidds. He goes by 'Cipher' as an alias since he's a prodigy for his age and very young ethical hacker.

So yes, that's where Bill comes in. Haven't figured out what I want his full name to be yet shoot me some ideas! Ford is very shy when it comes down to talking with Bill whereas Stan is completely chill.

Both Stan and Bill get along very well in this AU because they're similarly chaotic the same way that Fidds and Ford get along because they're the ones holding the other two back from doing something undeniably stupid for shits and giggles.

All of them share some fundamental subjects together(i.e. Math, Biology, Chemistry, Physics, Statistics, Research, History, etc.) or take elective courses just so they could chill together. Stan is typically the one who adjusts to the schedule of the other three since he takes BSBA[Business Administration] and is the odd one out when Ford does BSCMB[Cellular Molecular Biology] and Fidds does BSEE[Electrical Engineering].

The FiddleStan in this AU is gonna be c r a z y mostly due to Fidds in this AU is the heir to his family's computer company, so lowkey spoiled nepo baby but also on a very tight leash with his parents. Stan is the kid where 90% of his childhood was parents either forgot him or straight up did not give a flying fuck. So these two kinda work as complements and it's why I decided to pair them together after chatting with a friend about the group dynamics.

So yeah, simpy and adoring Ford and silently aware but shy Bill + rebellious Fidds and supportive Stan. All the more when I actually plan for this AU to have some typical gravity falls shenanigans anyway thanks to a place on earth called the Oregon Vortex.

[I'll likely make fics and comics of these AUs, reply to this post if you want to be tagged for whenever I post something]

Yeah I need to properly name these AUs.

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fireworksanon · 2 months ago

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A LITTLE DRABBLE I DID FOR @stupid-mega-pro-max !! a wonderful request from my friend :33

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Fiddleford & Child!Borrower reader ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

warnings: talk of blades and small description of scars, and some description of panic!

if he's out of character, i am SO SORRY

☆

The first thing they noticed when they woke up is how warm they felt. The absolute comfort; encased in complete warmth. The second thing, was of course, the hand currently resting over them, and the fabric underneath their back. The warmth was accompanied by the soft rising and falling of what — or who, in this case — they were sleeping on.

They turn over a bit, rubbing sleep out of their eyes. They didn't want him to wake up just yet, they still wanted to bathe in the comfort and peace and safety, something that used to be so rare for them.

Fiddleford had rescued them the previous month, from his partner in science or whatever. They had been in a jar, and any attempts of a plea, escaped as whimpers and sobs out of their throat. Until, of course, Fiddleford swooped in for the rescue. He had meant to release them, he really had; but the little borrower grew on him.

He'd call it southern hospitality; a simple excuse to wave off any other claims. But it was clear to the teenager. He missed someone. Someone that had been a lot like themself. His son? A sibling? It didn't matter. What mattered was that they felt safe.

The morning sun was pleasant. It cast a warm blanket over the two of them, and looked like the spitting image of what comfort was in the borrower's mind. Too many cold nights spent, shivering in their makeshift home in the walls. A home they had not seen in a few weeks.

They had the house to themselves, as the other scientist would be holed up in the basement for a few days building.. whatever it is they're building. Not that the borrower minds.

The warmth of the human hand is something very often overlooked by the beings themselves, but to a creature as small as a borrower, it was heaven. Depending, of course, on what the human is to you.

Even bugs must pray for a kind saviour.

Fiddleford’s hands — they were the perfect safe space to hide away. A few scars littered the skin, from misjudgements on welding or saws, stopped right in time to spare his digits, though not completely safe from the blade.

The hand, currently cupped over them, holding them close to his heart, was extraordinary. They had seen Fiddleford lift incredibly heavy things, push and shove the scientist in the attempt to save them, they've seen his knuckles turn white with how strong his grip was on a piece of machinery when he got mad.

And yet, they were always gentle. Not a single touch too hard, too invasive; he had always been careful with the little borrower.

They feel Fiddleford stir under them, and they relish in the warm comfort for a moment longer, before springing up and making their way to his face.

He had fallen asleep on the couch in his room again, so it was a bit of a hassle to climb up to where hid head was. But once they were there, they clambered onto his face. They were careful not to discomfort him, but pokes his nose to wake him up.

“Mr. Fidds. Psst. Wake up, we need to eat breakfast.” They poked his nose again, and he eventually opens his eyes with a soft laugh. “Mornin’ sweet pea. I take it ya had a good night's rest?” The borrower is gently lifted off of Fiddleford's face by his hand, the same one that was cupping them earlier, and they're encased by his fingers.

The loose hold allows them to grab hold of his thumb, linking their arms around it as he sits up. “I did! And I'm hungry.” The put on their best pouty face as he puts on his glasses, and he huffs a laugh. “Well, that just won't do! Let's get some food in ya.” They're lifted onto his shoulder, where they immediately cling to his shirt collar and sit as close to him as they can.

The trip to the kitchen is short, and the little teenager still can't believe how things look from this perspective. The fact that humans could see from this high up all the time made them a bit nervous, in all honesty. Sounds like a headache.

Not long after, the sweet smell of pancakes filters through the air, and they’re just about ready to jump at the plate when Fiddleford sets it down on the table.

They get set down on the plate, and he slices off a bit of pancake and pushes it to them with the knife. They eat breakfast with joyful chatter, and plan out the rest of their day. They would probably work on some general maintenance in the house, then go out to the shops looking for things to spruce up the little borrower’s new living space in Fiddleford's room.

But for now, they would just eat breakfast. The world could wait for a while.

#gravity falls g/t #fiddleford mcgucket #gravity falls & reader #screamer writes ✍️#this was a teeny bit rushed and I AM RUSTY!!!!! KEEP IN MIND!!#I love describing hands #its great #borrower!reader #they're his kid btw he misses tate #author is autistic btw #so to that one joke in the replies uhh ur an example now USE TONETAGS PLEASE

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skeletboi · 9 days ago

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Intridimensional AU part 22!

This one is hella short. Sorry.

First /// Previous /// Next

---------------------------‐-----------------------------

Ford and Stan glanced at each other as Fiddleford took off towards the barn in the distance.

“We should probably make sure he doesn't get shot.” Stan said.

“Agreed.” Ford said tiredly, heading after Fidds with Stan right on his heels.

Fiddleford looked back at them as they caught up and smiled.

“Betcha they got a tractor. I can make practically anythin’ with some good tractor parts.”

“We breaking and entering?!” Stan asked excitedly.

“We should probably be cautious…” Ford started to say, but Fiddleford and Stan ignored him as they started to open the large barn door.

“Looks pretty abandoned to me.” Stan said, walking towards the back wall where some old rusty tools were hanging on the walls.

“And they got a tractor!” Fiddleford said, running over to look at it curiously. “Mind givin’ me a hand here, Stanford? Can't really pop the hood with one arm.”

Ford gave in and joined Fiddleford, popping open the front of the tractor and frowning at the motor.

“There isn't much here to work with.” Ford noted as he leaned down for a better look.

“Sure there is. I jus’ gotta access some a’ the other parts from under that seat there. Ya see a phillips head screwdriver over there, Stanley?” Fiddleford asked, leaning around the side of the tractor to look over at Stan.

Stan looked around for a second before finding one and tossing it over to Fiddleford, who tried to catch it with his non-existing hand.

“Shit. Sorry.” Stan said, grimacing.

Ford leaned down and picked up the screwdriver as Fiddleford laughed it off. Ford was not exactly happy with this quiet, technology-void dimension, but he was happy to hear Fiddleford's laugh again so soon after the whole loosing-an-arm incident. He handed the screwdriver to Fiddleford and smiled softly at the excited gleam in his eyes.

Fiddleford got right to work, dropping down to a sitting position next to the tractor and taking screws out with impressive efficiency. Ford left him to his work and walked over to where Stan was digging through drawers in a work bench.

“Find anything good?” He asked.

“I don't know about good, but I won't say no to more weapons.” Stan replied, holding up a large hunting knife.

“Those tools will probably be useful, too. Might as well grab some for Fiddleford so he can make us some better weapons going forward.” Ford said, leaning down next to his brother to get a better look in the drawer.

“You'd know better than me.” Stan replied, glancing over his shoulder. “I bet there's some kind of bag around here, too. My pockets are not going to hold a full mechanic shop.”

“Right.” Ford said, straightening up and glancing around. “I'll see what I can find.”

He spotted a small staircase towards the back of the barn and took it up to the next level. The upper level was dim, but he could see enough to spot a few old boxes stacked against the back wall. He made his way over and opened the closest one, finding clothes and, thankfully, a leather satchel, not unlike the one Fiddeford used to carry around in college. Ford set the box aside as useful and moved onto the next one, then the next, then the next.

He had a whole pile of potentially useful things to show the other two by the time he heard someone coming up the stairs.

“Ford, you up here?” Stan asked.

“Over here.” He responded without looking up.

“It's been like forty minutes. I suddenly understand how you and Fidds built that portal- your focus is exhaustingly intense.” Stan said, coming up beside Ford and glancing in the boxes he'd set aside.

“We do have a tendency to lose track of time.” Ford mumbled. “I did find us all bags, a tool belt, and some less tattered clothes, though, so it was a productive 40 minutes.”

“Not bad. But I think Fidds has you beat. He practically has a full robot arm built out of tractor parts. Not sure how it'll work- but after he built me this leg in less than 24 hours I'm not even surprised.”

“Fascinating.” Ford said, finally looking up at Stan. “Want to help me bring these boxes down? I'm curious to see his arm design.”

“Sure thing, nerd.” Stan said with a laugh.

“Being a nerd is the only reason you have a leg.” Ford deadpanned.

“It's also the only reason I'm in some weird ass barn in another universe. So, ya know.”

Ford grimaced.

“That was a joke, Ford. I don't think that gang can catch up to me here, so it's not so bad. Not ideal, sure, but hey! This is the most we've hung out since high school!” Stan said, patting him on the back before picking up a box and heading back towards the stairs.

Ford watched him for a moment, then shook his head, grabbed a box, and followed him back down the stairs.

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

Hella short frfr.

Next part will be about the arm, then probably some more random time-skipping bits since that covers a lot of the main backstory. It'll be more random adventures and less plot heavy after this, but I've also said that before, and wrote more backstory anyway. So ya know... could go either way. Lol.

I need a nap. We throw house shows at my house and it is exhaustingly full of humans right now. 😭 I've done this to myself. But still.

Anyways. See ya for part 23 y'all!

#Intridimensional au #gravity falls #stanford pines #fiddleford mcgucket #fiddauthor #gravityfalls #ford pines #stanley pines #gravity falls au #bill cipher #youngcles #researcher ford #young stan pines #young fiddleford #skeletboi tag #skeletboitag

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fangirlwriting-stories · 23 days ago

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Venting with Best Friends

Summary: Relativity/Reunion Falls AU, Stan shares his Definitely Not Biased and Very Correct opinions on Ford.

Author's Note: I promise the next one will be longer I've had a lot of "proof of concept" scenes I wanted to put out first

Masterlist

...

“I’m gonna be honest with ya Stan, I’m not sure I get what the problem is,” Fiddleford says. He’s sitting on the ground next to the bed fiddling with the device he’s working on. Stan’s still not sure what it is.

“Yeah, no one does, it’s great,” Stan grumbles, from his spot lying face down on Fiddleford’s bed.

“What? It’s hard to hear you if your face is pressed into my pillow, you know.”

Stan groans and drags his face up. “I just don’t know how to talk to him!” he says. “He doesn’t ever try to start conversations, and I don’t know about anything he’d want to talk about. It’s not like he wants to hear about my in-depth plan to hunt down a monster that shows people their worst nightmares.”

“Well, come on, how do you know?” Fiddleford asks. “Have you asked him?”

“Please. A nerd like him? Yeah, I’m sure he wants to spend hours talking about monsters and cryptids. He probably only knows about boring school stuff that he learned about where he’s from.”

“Hey,” Fiddleford says, looking up at Stan and crossing his arms. “What’s wrong with being a nerd?”

“Oh, nothing, come on Fidds,” Stan says, pushing himself up to a sitting position. “You know I’m not talking about you. But you’re a weird nerd. He’s a normie. It’s different.”

“How do you know he’s a normie if you never talk to him about it?” Fiddleford asks, turning back to his device.

“I just know, okay? Besides, I’ve got better things to do than try and explain to a twin I didn’t ask for why monsters are cool. Like hunting down those exact monsters. I’ve got Gremloblin stuff going on that I can’t just put on pause. You sure you don’t want to come to that, by the way?”

“Come find a monster who will show me my worst fear? Nah, I’m good, thanks.”

“Your loss,” Stan says, flopping back against the bed. “Now honestly, I didn’t come here to talk about Stanford the whole time. What’re you workin’ on?”

“Oh, it’s that grappling hook that should finally let us ride eye bats,” Fiddleford says brightly, holding it up for Stan to see. “The problem we’ve had is that we’re too heavy and weigh them down, right? This should let us both ride one on each side, rather than hanging off the same side and pull them back down to the ground. See, this part attaches to one side of the wing, this one the other, and it clasps together in the middle.”

“Awesome,” Stan calls, leaning over and turning the clasp Fiddleford is working on back and forth. “You want to go to the cliff tonight and try it out?”

“No, I very much want to test it safely on the ground first.”

“Booo! You’re no fun!”

#gravity falls #stan pines #fiddleford mcgucket #relativity falls au #reunion falls au #my fic

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banjopolishh · 2 months ago

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Creatures in Heaven

RRRRIIIIING! RRRRRRRIIIING! RRRRRIIINGG!

“Ah, Fidds, could you turn that thing off!? I’m trying to sleep…” a gruff, sleep-deprived voice grumbled from across the dorm room.

“Oh my stars! I’m sorry, Ford!” Fiddleford exclaimed, rushing to the alarm clock and smacking it until it finally fell silent.

“Augh... It’s alright, sweetheart. Just had a long night with exams. How did you sleep?” Ford groaned as he slipped out of bed, clad only in boxers.

“I slept well, hun! Ohhh, look at you,” Fiddleford chuckled, “Looking good, Ford!” He crossed the room to his lover, pressing a kiss to Ford’s cheek and handing him a steaming cup of coffee.

“Oh, quiet, you.” Ford smirked, shaking his head as he took the cup. “Always flirting with me, hm?”

“I just love you, silly goose! Can’t help it that my boyfriend is the handsomest man in the galaxy!” Fiddleford beamed, turning to grab some fresh clothes. Stanford wrapped his arms around him from behind, pulling him into a warm embrace. “You don’t get to flatter me and then run off! Come here, you!” The two laughed as Ford spun Fiddleford around.

“Let me go! I have to get dressed, Ford!” Fiddleford laughed, wriggling to escape Stanford’s hold. “Alright, alright. Go ahead, honey. You’re free!” Ford released him, letting Fiddleford make a beeline for his closet.

“You just wanted me to stay half-naked, didn’t you?” Fiddleford joked, winking at the dark brunette. Ford rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile.

The couple was deeply in love, having been together for about six months at the time, existing in perfect harmony.

That was 30 years ago. After college, Fiddleford’s family forced him to marry a woman, and they broke up.

Years later, Ford needed Fiddleford’s expertise to help with a portal he was building. Unfortunately, something went wrong with the portal, and Fiddleford was thrown into it, witnessing unspeakable horrors on the other side. Fiddleford begged Stanford to shut it down, but Stanford refused. Fiddleford abandoned the project, leaving Stanford and disappearing into obscurity.

As the years went by, Ford was haunted by regret. How could he have lost his first love?

As Fiddleford vanished, so did Ford, traveling across dimensions and realms. During his travels, he sought out alternate versions of Fiddleford, apologizing and expressing his love, but none were the Fiddleford he had lost.

“I’m sorry, but I ain’t your Fiddleford, Mister. I don’t understand why you did what you did, but I feel mighty sorry for him,” one alternate had told him, deepening Ford’s guilt.

One day, the portal was operational again, and Ford found himself back home. He began mending his relationship with his family, especially his brother, Stanley.

His great niece and nephew shared their paranormal adventures with him, and he listened intently, smiling as Dipper discussed his theories of the unknown.

To Ford’s surprise, Fiddleford’s name came up. The twins mentioned the robotic gobblewonker he had built earlier that summer.

“Excuse me, what did you just say?” Ford asked, his six fingers nervously tapping the table. “Fiddleford? Gobblewonker? You’ll need to be more specific, here” Mabel said, her face had confusion written all over it.

“Where is he?” Ford’s voice grew stern, laced with concern. The twins exchanged intrigued glances.

“Gravity Falls dump. Why?” Dipper asked, narrowing his eyes. “That’s not relevant… How is he?”

“Well, he’s kinda gone kookoo crazy! But Dipper and I helped him recover his memories after he lost them from getting a bit too trigger-happy with a memory gun!”

“I…” Ford’s voice faltered, “I need to be alone for a while. If you’ll excuse me.”

Ford headed downstairs to his lab, his mind racing. Fiddleford was alive, and he was at the dump. Ford had ruined this man’s life, and there was nothing he could do to make amends. He had to see him again, but when? He needed time to think and prepare.

Weeks later, a catastrophic event known as “Weirdmageddon” turned Gravity Falls into a nightmarish landscape.

Amidst the chaos, Ford decided it was time to visit Fiddleford in the dump.

Ford walked towards the dump, his heart racing with every step he took closer to his destination. Upon entering, he scanned the area, searching for Fiddleford’s makeshift “home.” “

Fiddleford?” he called out. “Fidd’s? Are you here?”

Suddenly, a loud rustling came from a small, broken shed constructed from discarded materials.

“Hm? Who’s there!? You’ll never take me alive, demons!” an elderly Fiddleford emerged from the clutter and rushed towards Stanford. He paused, eyes widening in disbelief. “H-Huh? Ford? What… what are you doing here?.. Have I finally gone mad?”

Both men’s eyes welled up with tears. The sight of his former lover, now frail and disheveled, broke Ford’s heart. “I’m here for you, Fidds. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to find you. You must hate me.” Ford began scanning the other man’s face, looking for any remnants of the once witty man.

Fiddleford tried to suppress his emotions, a bittersweet smile gracing his lips. “I’ve tried to forget, I really have. But I don’t think I realized just how much I miss you sometimes.” He chuckled softly, glancing down at the dirt beneath them. Ford’s heart ached as he saw the toll time had taken on the man he once loved.

“Oh! Sorry, got lost in thought!” Fiddleford said, breaking the heavy silence. “Come on in, have a seat! We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

Ford nodded and followed the now diminutive Fiddleford inside. As he did, he took in the horrid state of Fiddleford’s living conditions.

Fiddleford gestured for Ford to sit next to the fire. “So, what brings you to my neck of the woods, hm?” he asked with a smile, though his eyes betrayed a deep reservoir of emotion from the years they had been apart.

“I needed to see you. I’ve been thinking about you since the day you left,” Ford confessed with a sigh. “I tried to find you in everything I did and everywhere I went.”

Fiddleford’s eyes softened as he felt the same aching love he had in college. “I’ve wanted to apologize for so long, to reconnect…”

Fiddleford placed his hand over Ford’s, gently rubbing his thumb in circles on the back of Ford’s hand. “I forgive you, Stanford. You don’t need to worry,” he said, his voice tender and soothing. “I still love you. I’ve always loved you.”

Ford let out a muffled sob, grasping his lovers hand tightly, “I don’t understand why, I don’t.. I ruined your life, I destroyed everything you’ve ever worked for! I made your life an unending hell, and for that, I can’t ever be forgiven.” Ford looked into Fidd’s eyes, “I hurt the only one I’ve ever loved, I’m a monster, Fiddleford..”

“No you ain’t, darlin’. Ya made some terrible decisions in yer life..but you feel remorse. You’re here now apologizin’, bein’ honest with me..” Fidds wrapped Ford in a tight embrace, “That’s more than some folks do..I forgive ya, honey.”

Ford had never held Fiddleford so closely, so tightly, in his entire life. He finally had his soulmate back, and that’s all he could have ever hoped for.

The two later moved back in together after the events of weirdmageddon, and after Ford was done traveling the world with Stanley.

Their wedding is in 2 weeks.

へ ♡ ╱|、

૮ - ՛ ) (` - 7

/ ⁻ ៸| |、⁻〵

乀 (ˍ, ل ل じしˍ,)ノ

Creatures in Heaven received the most votes! So, here’s a FIC!!! it’s definitely my most lengthy one! I’m going to also be creating an ao3 tonight and going to upload some of my fics there as well! (I will be going under banjopolishh still!!)

enjoy!

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luciferten · 16 days ago

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[Photo ID: A six panel, sketched fan comic for Gravity Falls. Fiddleford's speech is written by hand, printed letters. While Fords speech is typed in cursive font.

Panel 1: Ford excitedly shaking Fiddlefords hand. Fidds carries a back pack.

"*It's so god to see you after all these years, Fiddleford!"

Fiddleford, one hand hooked to the strap of his bag, "Feelin' 's mutual, pal."

(At the bottom of the page: *I'm not writing in cursive.)

Panel 2: Ford, smiling cheekily and gesturing with his hands, "And I see you've tied the knot?!"

Panel 3: He shows off his ring, "Sure did! And—"

"Where??"

Fiddleford continues, "Southern California"

Panel 4: Ford holds his chin in his hand and rests his elbow against one arm, "Fascinating! I didn't realize they had passed that l—"

Gripping his bags strap with both hands, Fidds says flatly, "I'm married to a woman, Stanferd."

Panel 5: They stare at each other, Ford especially wide-eyed.

"..." between the two of them.

Panel 6: Ford with his hand removed from his chin, and brows furrowed and sweating, "Really?"

Fiddleford squints, "Yes."

–End ID.]

“Oh,,, WELL LETS GET YOUR THINGS INSIDE”

#LMAOOO #reblog #photo id #comic id #visual description #gravity falls #gf #fiddleford #stanford pines

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thatabitcryptic · 4 years ago

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Grunkle fidds’ design for when they get out the portal :D

(His colours are under the cut for reference thanks future me for being a dumbass and most likely losing them, I got you and also the kiddos are there)

#it’s pretty much the same he just has a hat now #oh and a beard #:))#but lmao it’s not really that important because as soon as they leave the portal room he will drop the sci-fi outfit #and he becomes a ‘refined’ hillbilly #also yes his robo arm is bigger than his other #(not me doing that because I feel like ford would sometimes get self conscious of his big hands and fidds makes it so he feels better)#(so instead of ford always holding his hand he can hold Ford’s)#not sure if that makes sense but if not it’s for sappy romance reasons #if you are wondering where his whip is it’s in his beard #man stored a laptop that was described by dipper to crush his legs when he sat it on his lap #my guy can put a whip in there no problem #portal husbands #fiddleford mcgucket #mabel pines #dipper pines #gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #fiddauthor #my art

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gin-juice-tonic · 2 years ago

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More things about Fiddlefords siblings

-Rixon and Gus are close, Fiddleford and Winnie are close, Ashley and Merley are close, Durley gets along well with all of them -Unfortunately this means Durley plays therapist and mediator a lot

-Fiddleford is closer to his sisters than his brothers

-Fiddleford gave Merley a piece of his shirt to use as a patch for his overalls before leaving for college

-Merley likes to switch which eye peeks out of his hair when people aren’t looking. If anyone acknowledges it, he pretends he doesnt know what they’re talking about.

-Gus is the quiet type, sort of like Tate but even quieter. He doesnt talk much to people outside his family, and tends to bring Durley along with him to places to talk for him. Except when gambling is involved.

-Gus and Merley usually sit out social situations outside the family (Gus because he doesn’t talk, and Merley because he cant change clothes). They spend this time together.

-The hogs like Ashley and Gus the best

-Winnie and Fiddleford used to wear matching clothes when they were little, and had similar hairstyles up until Fidds left for college

-Merley and Ashley both need glasses but refuse to wear them

-Fiddleford tried to teach Ashley and Merley banjo as soon as they were old enough to hold the instrument

-Fiddleford claims he took 3rd place in a “Mr Pig Trough” contest. It was actually “Misses Pig Trough”, and Winnie came ahead of him in 2nd.

-Durley and Rixon regularly arm wrestle.

-All the siblings like to regular wrestle Durley. It usually ends up in a dogpile on him.

-Rixon is a lesbian and she would give advice to Fiddleford on how to sneak girls around.

-Rixon is the only one old enough to remember what happened to Gus’s hand -If you ask her or their parents what happened they’ll just tell you not to go stickin your hands where they dont belong -if you ask Gus he’ll ignore you. On rare occasions he’ll say they got up and walked away

-Gus met Ford once. He suggested Ford should give him one of his fingers.

-Gus was an accident, Rixon, Durley, and Fiddleford were planned. Winnie, Ashley and Merley were accidents again.

-Winnie and Ashley are aware they’re accidents. They like to say being ‘born out of a moment of passion’ is what makes them more passionate than the other siblings -Gus knows he was an accident, but doesnt agree with the girls assessment of their situation. Merley doesn’t know, and no one is going to tell him.

(first post)

#dont feel like you have to read them its okay #long post #sorta #fidds family

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piningfor-pinestwins · 3 years ago

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Natural Attraction - Confrontations (Stan X Reader Slow Burn; Eventual Not SFW)

Yawning, you find yourself still dozing off while stretching out your legs, waiting for Fiddleford to finish packing up his tent while the twins bicker about the “correct” way to fold a sleeping bag. You smile to yourself, cracking open an eye and biting your tongue from making a comment about this being why you’d brought a quilt instead, but you keep it to yourself as you lean forward to stretch. Wincing as you roll your injured ankle back and forth, you’re reminded of the night you’d dealt with.

It ached as you adjusted your shoe on your foot, tying the shoelaces tighter to try and support your ankle a little better for the trek ahead. Ford hasn’t said much (to you, anyway--he’s still very wordy when it comes to his current argument with his brother as the both of them shove differently-folded sleeping bags away into their respective packs), but you’re certain that the day will prove to be long and tiring. Still, as you fix the tops of your socks, you have an odd sense of...hopefulness? Excitement? You aren’t sure, but the anticipation is strong.

The sensation only grows as Stan comes toward the tree you’re leaned up against. Warmth flutters in your stomach when he catches your eye, a knowing sort of smile spread across his cheeks when he adjusts his and your bags onto his shoulder. He clears his throat as he reaches his hand down to you, his smile warming you from the inside. “Hey, you. About ready to head out?” He asks, voice soft with an almost-gravelly sleepiness which makes you smile.

As I’ll ever be, you answer as you take his hand. Stan pulls you up slowly, your hand in his with his other arm outstretched to catch your side, just in case. Wincing as you put weight onto your tweaked ankle, you hold to Stan a little tighter, all the while hearing his voice whisper soft encouragements until you’re upright. “That’s it, honey--slower, slower,” he soothes. You’re unsure if it’s his words, the gravel in his voice, or proximity, but your cheeks flush at his soft urging, a flutter in your chest. His outstretched arm is closer now, that hand resting securely on your lower back to remind you of its presence, gently brushing his thumb against your hip (which, frankly, doesn't help, since the flutter only moves to your belly).

“There ya go, hon. Y’feeling any better today?” Stan levels his gaze to you, the concern knitting his brows together in a way that makes you smile, averting your eyes quickly so he can't see the tenderness there. You reach, patting his chest lightly to ease his mind when you meet his eye again, Feeling just fine, thank you.

“Kissed you all better?” He asks low, voice playful as he quirks a brow down at you. You flush as your own brows shoot upward, pushing lightly on his chest as you urgently shush him, looking toward where Ford and Fidds are chatting. The both of them quickly avert their gazes, knowing smiles still spreading their cheeks as they turn away--you almost wish you hadn’t caught them looking.

Your cheeks burn despite your smile, giving the cocky man ahead of you a stern look, Don’t be so obvious, Stanley, you tease in a whisper, your thumbs brushing lightly over the hem of the white tank top he wears, acting as though you’re smoothing down his shirt. Your hands drop away with one final pat, smiling wider when he looks at you with something akin to surprise. “Sorry, hon. Just...a little giddy this morning, is all.”

Wonder why? You hum in question, shaking your head as you hold out your hand toward him. At first, he stalls, eyeing your hand with a furrowed brow, questioning. He reaches to take your hand, a bashful sort of smile growing on his face before you motion to your bag. He coughs a gruff sound, and you only barely save him the embarrassment this time, looking down as you feel your smile at his pinkened cheeks. He releases your hand easily, trading its place with the strap of your bag as he turns to look toward the other two instead, lightly rubbing at the back of his neck. You take the duffle bag, looping your arms into the straps to turn it into a good-enough backpack for the trek ahead.

You stretch your ankle gingerly, biting into the inside of your cheek. Surely, there should be some sort of tracks for your creature somewhere around here… Moving carefully to test your first few steps, you crouch beneath a tree limb, leaving the familiar grassy space to try and find your next clues to where it may be.

“Hey--don’t run off!” Fiddleford scolds from his place beside Ford, taking a few steps as he reaches, as if to catch you in the act, “Even if it’s sunny out, yer luck hasn’t been great for the past….well, 12 hours.” You almost laugh, shaking your head, Not running off, just...trying to find where we go next, you explain. He keeps walking closer, a little smile budding on his face as he comes to join you. “At least lemme help you,” he teases, pushing away a branch near the top of your head. You look over to him and duck under it as you laugh, Thanks, Fidds.

“The last tracks we’d seen were just that direction,” He points toward the unnervingly-familiar patch from the night before, and you frown as you take a few more tentative steps. “I’m sure there’s more o’them somewhere around here....”

Fidds moves alongside you, the both of you looking for some sort of indication of the creature. It’s almost frustrating--you’re certain something had to be here, some sign of the damn thing. You finally huff, a frown pulling at your lips when you look to Fiddleford, not far off in his own search. “I can’t find anything, either--”

“Hey, uh...guys?” Stan’s voice calls from the other side of the brush, sounding almost concerned in a way that makes your stomach drop in worry. Your eyes meet Fidds’, sharing a furrow-browed glance between you as you both move toward the grassy spot once more, toward Stan’s voice.

Stan? Are you okay? You call, looking out from the brush, your question joined by Ford’s voice, calling at the same time, “Stanley?”

You spy the twin as he’s readjusting his pants, buttoning his fly and re-buckling his belt as he walks up the hill you’d been ‘attacked’ at the night before. You quirk a brow, eyes trained on his fingers at his belt before realizing what he had been doing that far down the hill, feeling a flush as you quickly look up to his face instead.

“What’d you see?” Ford asks his twin, knowing the tone of his voice well. “Well, ah...remember when she,” Stan motions to you, “had an owl bothering her last night? It was around here, right?” He asks you with a furrowed brow, hands finished with the buckle as he motions to the ground near the top of the hill. You finally look at him again, biting your lip as you nod, Right over, uh….here, you say, eyes narrowing at the spot he’s referring to. In the area you’d fallen, you can see the scuff marks of your shoes going down the hill, and a strange indentation in the grass, right in the same spot.

“...Huh,” Fiddleford hums, moving to the dip in the grass and pushing some of the longer tufts away, finding two large tracks, looking very much the same as the tracks you’d followed from the cabin.

“There’s no way,” Ford murmurs, rushing ahead closer to see the tracks, too. He looks up, toward the direction of the trees where you’d all seen the owl last night. “If these are here, that must mean, either the owl last night was much bigger than we’d all expected, or--”

“Or your big ‘birdlike thing’ came around afterward to check us out.” Stan finishes, crossing his arms. He looks almost uncomfortable, looking over you with something unreadable in his gaze before pointing the same look towards his brother and Fiddleford. “I guess it makes it easier to track, but...I dunno, I’m a little weirded out that the thing is as interested in us as we are in it.”

“Nonsense,” Fiddleford shakes his head, standing from where he’d crouched with a quiet grunt, “We don’t have all those pieces, Stanley--we can’t just assume the thing’s a menace, just ‘cause it ends up near our campsite. Maybe it’s more a sign that we just… tracked it real good?”

You shrug, I’m sure it’s just an...odd, albeit helpful, coincidence. Stan doesn’t look swayed, arms still folded across his chest. Sighing, you nod, I admit, it’s weird. And a creature my size being hunted by an owl isn’t normal by any means, but...is anything in this town normal? You pose the question toward the man, who’s still frowning down at you in uncertainty. He finally sighs, relenting, “Not at all. Alright. But if this gets freakier, I say we call it off and head home.”

Ford scoffs at his brother’s insistence, shaking his head. “If the creature is hostile, that’s even more reason to track it,” He argues, continuing, “God forbid the thing tries to come for the town.”

Stan’s brow furrows, and you can instantly tell that his brother has struck a nerve. “God forbid the thing goes after one of us again! Especially her!” He scowls, motioning to you with his hand as he takes a step closer to his twin. “The fucker’s got big feet, look,” he points down to the tracks, “If he decides to grab one of us and fly off next time one of us goes off for a piss, we’re screwed.”

Ford rolls his eyes, but says nothing more as he shakes his head. You can tell the action annoys Stan, the latter clenching a fist at his side. You reach to him, one hand landing on Stan’s arm to pull his focus back. He turns to look at you, a frown still on his face, but more relaxed now.

eI know you’re worried, you start, smile warming up, But you know...I can handle myself. You wink, putting up your fists as if prepping to fight. The action makes him scoff a laugh, shaking his head at you as he speaks, “Right--I almost forgot, you’re a killer.” He winks, a hint of the dimple at his cheek peeking out at you, even as he rubs at his face to calm down a little. He takes a breath and you release his arm, eyeing Ford and Fidds, the latter being the only one who meets your eye (and rolls his own, apparently very used to the duo’s mini-arguments).

Alright boys, you say with a smile, pushing your thumbs into the straps that rest on your shoulders when all three heads turn to look at you, I’m ready to track down a weird bird creature, how about you?

“Of course!” Ford laughs as he answers, argument easily dismissed. He moves, only struggling a little as he hoists his heavy backpack into place. Fiddleford snickers at the brunet, pulling one of the straps of the backpack up to help the man put his arm through the loop, “Hold onto yer britches, Ford--there you go.” The taller man smiles wide at his friend before nodding at you, “I’ve been ready. We’ve gotta take advantage of the daylight for as long as we’ve got it.” You smile at Fiddleford in agreement, glancing to Stan beside you with a quirked brow, surprised to find him already looking your way.

Stanley finally grins, his gaze catching you off guard in a way that makes your chest flutter, and you find yourself mimicking his smile when he reaches to clap a hand on your shoulder, giving you a little shake, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Good,” Ford pipes up, instantly making the former twin’s smile falter. Ford doesn’t seem to notice, taking one last glance around at the grassy space you’d used as a resting point for the evening, just to be sure. “We haven’t got time to lose. As you so graciously found out,” He motions in your direction, peeking at you from over the rims of his glasses, “Being out in the dark isn’t quite the safest option we have, both in terrain navigation and… creature interaction, I suppose.”

You scoff a quiet, No shit, which causes Stan to snort a laugh beside you. All things considered, last night wasn’t too bad, but… bits of it were scary, to say the least. The ache in your foot reminds you to keep your eyes on the ground just as much as you’re watching for signs of the creature, though it seems the boys are doing their best to keep you on your feet, too.

Unlucky only begins to describe the hike of the day. After the strap on Ford’s backpack broke, and Stan had to cut himself out of a thorny bramble with just a pocket knife, the four of you were sure that the rest of the day would be a little easier.

You were wrong, you realized, when the only-slightly-cloudy sky became much more cloudy and started thundering.

“Fuckin’...” Stan grits, using the bottom of his already soaked t-shirt to wipe away the rain mingling with sweat dripping down his forehead, “Did any of you geniuses decide to check the weather before we set off to find your little monster?”

“It’s just a little rain, Stanley,” Ford scoffs, walking ahead of his brother, “Contrary to popular belief, you won’t melt.”

“Y’could track any kind of creature with your heavy machine, but you can’t even turn on the tv to look at the news once in a while? Especially when the whole damn family’s coming out on a hike?” The twin argues, and even though he’s kind of chewing you out too, you find yourself snorting a laugh. It is a little ridiculous, you can admit. It’s even more ridiculous when Ford whips around to look back at his brother in annoyance, and you see him squinting at the both of you, glasses absolutely useless as they rest atop his head, fat water droplets sticking to the lenses and rolling off to saturate his hair even more. Stan snorts then, casting a glance to you as he does, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.” Despite his frustration with the weather, Stan’s voice holds no real malice, the indent in his cheek almost giving him away as he continues to follow his brother and Fiddleford.

“Dammit, if we could just...get somethin’,” Fidds murmurs, his own glasses folded closed and hanging from the collar of his button-up. “Even if it’s rainin’, there should be a sign of the creature somewhere, right?” He turns back to look at you, an almost pleading look in his eye. You jog a little, boots squelching in the muddy ground as you get closer to the front of the pack.

Surely there’s some signs, you agree, offering a sympathetic smile his way. Fidds is intrigued by this thing, you can tell; maybe even a little more than he usually is in the creatures you find in town. As you look for a sign, any sign, you step a little quicker, getting in front of the pack. Really, there should be something…

The more you look, you realize, the more you find. Whether that’s a good thing or not, you’re unsure. Guys! You call, turning to look over your shoulder at the group and finding yourself considerably further away from them than you’d expected. There are tracks here in the mud! I-I think it might have trouble flying in the rain? Your voice lifts like a question, Ford’s voice calling after you over the rain, “Wait for us! We don’t want a repeat of the last time,” he warns. You know he’s right; as it begins to storm in earnest now, the grass and earth at your feet seem to relax beneath you, steadily becoming mush at your heels.

You wait just a few moments more for the boys to catch up, hearing the muted sounds of their huffing and puffing up to you. Entranced, you stare down at the muddied floor of the forest, the tracks in the mud seeming to beckon you to follow them. If you were fast enough, you might be able to snap a picture of the prints without your camera getting too wet. It would help in tracking the creature further, and whatever research comes next…

You bite at your bottom lip as you adjust your bag onto your shoulder, rummaging through the slightly-damp insides as Fidds catches up to you, looking down at the tracks much like you had been. “Woah,” He starts, almost breathless, “These are the best prints we’ve seen from this thing yet! Lookit--you can see every segment of the thing’s foot, all the way to its claws...How big d’ya think this thing is? The whole foot’s almost as big as my hand,” The honey blond man crouches down, even in the mud, to inspect and absorb as much information as he can, stretching his palm next to the print but not touching the mud beneath.

I don’t know if that’s an accurate measurement, you tease with a grunt, turning your back to the heaviest of the rain and the other tracks, You’re a tall, lanky guy. If its claws are that big, I’m sure it may be proportionally huge, you finish with a laugh. He glances up to see you fumbling just a little, trying to block the rain from hitting your camera full force and get the footprint and his hand in the shot all at once. Fidds snorts a laugh, and you smile as you shake your head down to him, your wet hair mimicking the motion out of the corner of your eye as you scoff a fond, Shut up.

In your movement, you’ve turned to be able to watch as the other two boys make their way up to you, glancing to see the both of their bodies coming into view, smile still on your face when you look through the viewfinder to center the shot. You know you don’t have much time left to have your camera out in this rain without ruining some film or the mechanisms inside it, so you’re quick to press the button, even as you hear Fiddleford gasp at something behind you at the same moment. The flash of your camera goes off, the light similar to a strike of lightning, illuminating the woods around you in one brief second. You move the camera from your face, reaching to start and put it away despite the sound of it printing the snapshot.

Fidds, what’s wrong? You ask over the loud rain, turning your head in time to look at him, seeing…fear? You don’t have the time to think or ask anything else as Fiddleford stands abruptly and grips your arm, nearly knocking your camera from your hand as he yanks you back toward the way you came. You yell out, frightened by the sudden change in the man, until you turn your head to see why.

“WATCH OUT!” Stan’s voice bellows over the downpour, suddenly so much closer than you’d imagined. When you’d glanced up at them, you hadn’t noticed the duo were running, mud caking their shoes and the bottom of their pant legs as the twins made their way toward you and Fidds. Now they’re right in front of you, looking up and over you with something akin to fear as Stan throws something--you think a rock--at the thing.

This must be the creature, the feeling of dread in your stomach at the sight of it reminding you of the hillside incident the night before. It stands somehow taller than you’d imagined on the feet that match those prints, a mass of pitch-colored ….hair? feathers? looming tall against the trees of the forest. You’re not sure where its height ends and its wingspan begins, neither more entrancing, or terrifying, than its eyes. Big, red and almost-shining eyes watch as you’re pulled by Fidds, nearly running face-first into the chests of the Pines men. The rock Stan threw hits it square in where its chest would be, were it a man, and the creature seems to puff up more, appearing larger as its wingspan opens, remarkable and terrifying all at once even as they drip with the incessant rain.

The four of you watch up at the beast, wide-eyed. You would almost swear Ford was enamored with the thing, if it weren’t for the tightening of his grip on Fidd’s sleeve, all of you panting from either exertion or pure adrenaline-toned fear. Thinking on your feet, you push down on the camera’s shutter and point the thing at the creature, hoping for a moment that the flash would blind it as you back into Stan’s chest. In the same instant, lightning strikes, rendering your flash useless as the thundering clouds rumble loud enough to feel in your chest, the storm right atop you now. The creature rears back, then lets out a high, wailing screech unlike anything you’ve heard before. It steals your breath, and before you can react, Stan has a hand wrapped around your arm, fingers firm in his grip to you as he pants, a word stumbling from his lips in one harsh breath.

“Run.”

#nic's fics #stan pines x reader #gravity falls x reader #stanley pines #grunkle stan x reader #[mr. mystery]#pspspsps come get y'all juice #but also tell me if you like my fic please i like interaction

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mythomagically-delicious · 3 years ago

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Okay so in a better world au ford and fiddleford created the Institute and made up, right? What happened to stan?

The point of that first post about "the twist" was this: what if Stan and Ford switched bodies and stans was sent into the portal with ford inside, and Stan in Ford's body remained behind. Stan immediately tries everything to turn it back on, to no avail. He went thru hundreds of papers and notes trying to understand ANYTHING and he got some general idea that ford had had a research partner out here who knew things- knew ford, knew the portal, he could help!

Stan in Ford's body races to town instead of staying isolated in the cabin for four weeks, and finds fiddleford. Fiddleford looks confused and stranger than the notes suggested but it matches up. He begs fiddleford to help him, and despite the falling out fiddleford has enough fondness for his old friend remaining that he is swayed. He doesn't get his full mind erased by the society bc he isn't abandoned fully and left wandering the town to be targeted by blind Ivan in his power grab.

Fiddleford and Stan (in Ford's body) go back to the shack and stan starts to take him to the basement when fidds starts freaking out, yelling and crying about the world-shattering consequences. About the things he saw, rhe demon, and more. Stan calms him down, takes him back upstairs. He's frustrated to high heaven and back but he knows he could never do this alone.

(He hasn't told fiddleford who he really is. Yet. He will, he just needs some help first. Who would help a loser like stan? But ford has a friend, he can be ford for a little bit to work the angle and get his brother back.)

It takes time. Way too much time, for Stan, but fiddleford slowly recovers enough of his sanity and calms his nerves enough to go down to the basement and not freak out. Stan admits to anything fiddleford asks him about, anything he saw from Ford's notes and makes it convincing that he's asking for a second chance. Maybe they could rebuild it, better? Without demon assistance?

Fiddleford helps tear it to shreds. They mark every part as they dismantle it and fiddleford searches for the reasons it opened a portal to nightmares. He doesn't follow schematics blindly, any more, no more blind trust to his friend. But he does help. Stan is learning on the job. He isn't convincing in the slightest of being a genius but fiddleford is too frazzled to notice. He's got his own shit going on.

They tear it down. Stan is afraid and angry and desperate but he holds his shit together. Fiddleford regains more of himself as they go. Stan learns more about ford and fiddlefords time together as fiddleford recovers memories and tells them to Stan. Stan makes his own notes, of how to Be Stanford Pines.

In time, they get to a stable place of living in the shack together, Stan trying to learn as much as he can about this science shit, pretending he was hit by the memory gun into forgetting himself when fiddleford questions it. Fidds is afraid to go confront the society, and can't remember where they are anyway. Stan doesn't care about it as long as his cover isn't blown. He hasn't told fiddleford yet. He will! But not yet.

They begin to plan a new, stable trans-dimensional vortex. It takes a whole hell of a lot, but they slowly build it anew. Still in the cursed basement, not even a skeleton of the old machine left after they destroyed it the first time.

Stan is flying less by the seat of his pants. Taking a leaf from Ford's book and staying up to radically terrible hours of the night studying and trying to understand all the science and math shit to make this work, to keep stringing fiddleford into helping him. Fidds takes time for his own projects and Stan doesn't bug him about it, saying if it makes money to split it, and when fiddleford hits a big invention that also happens to patent well and spread? They use the money to help their new portal.

It takes ten years to do it, but they recreate the portal, this time to a place they can control thru careful calibration. Fiddleford writes a scientific paper about it, publishes it with ford as a co-author, and they get international renown. Stan knows how to work a crowd and he uses their leverage to get people invested in investing, so to speak. It's not cheap to fund the energy required to turn it on, so they expand the building and create the Institute of Oddology, given enough time and building and circumstances lining up just right.

Fiddleford runs the teams and the day to day stuff. Stan handles finances and resource allocation and scheduling tours, interested parties, rivals, anything business side. He and fiddleford go to the first stable dimension together , though, and Stan uses all of the science gizmos at their disposal to search for ford while they're there.

He doesn't find him. He still hasn't told fiddleford. Its been too long at this point, right? What if he takes the money and fame and everything and kicks Stan out for lying? He mostly rode fiddlefords genius to get here, there's no way he'd not be mad about this.

They go to many dimensions. Stan takes samples and learns scientific process thru osmosis over the years and contributes to publishibg written works to the greater scientific community.

He looks for Ford. He finds nothing. He tells no one his true purpose for everything he's achieved to that point. He lies and wears Ford's face and shakes hands and is a sham.

One day Fiddleford races to his office, frantic and eyes wide and hands shaking slightly like Stan hasnt seen in years. It's been 30 years since ford was lost to the portal. And fiddleford comes to him and says there's a parallel you, Stanford, in conference room B, we need to send him on his way immediately, you remember what happened to Ernie on that trip 8 years back?

And Stan ignores this, heart pounding, and knocks fiddleford out, locking him in the office, racing to conference room B.

He bursts in, and sees a version of his brother. One he doesnt see in the mirror. A real Stanford Pines, 30 years older than the kids they were when they fought beside the portal. Apparently no universe is fair, if ford ends up inside in multiple dimensions.

Stan is speechless. The portal!ford is on the defensive, but interest is clear in his face. He keeps his distance, cognizant of parallel!fiddlefords warning from before. Of counterparts meeting in a dimension of origin. Annihilation.

Stan cries. Ford looks shocked to see his own self in such a state. He doesn't know what to do. Stan surges forward for a hug and Ford tries to dodge, afraid of the consequences. Stan traps his hands to his sides and sobs on Ford's mysterious black coat, calling him brother. Ford's inner alarm bells go off even as he clenches his eyes shut against the incoming total destruction.

When nothing happens except for a wet patch to grow on Ford's clothes, he opens his eyes and studies himself. They look scarily similar, truth be told. His counterpart heartier than he, an interdimensional fugitive. That makes sense. Parallel ford is apologizing into his jacket and clutching him hard enough to leave bruises.

Ford dodges out of the grapple his counterpart has him in. He demands answers in a clipped tone. Stan does his best to reign it back in as he confesses what transpired in this dimension to this dimension traveling ford. How he hopes his own brother, trapped in stans body, is still out there, still surviving, still where Stan can find him.

Ford starts a fight. Stan defends himself but it gets physical and he doesn't have the same instincts to take down he did when he was younger. He remembers the last fight he had with his brother, and doesn't want that to happen again.

Fiddleford eventually gets free of the office and runs in to see parallel ford beating the shit out of his ford. He stuns ford with a device on his belt and brings things back to some semblance of order, getting a first aid kit out to tend to them both. P!Ford's knuckles, mainly, and stans face.

The truth comes out, ugly and stained and fiddleford forgives Stan immediately. He turns to parallel ford and helps him out of the room, promising help with his weapon and more, later.

Stan is left with the knowledge that all these years later, no matter what he does, his brother hates him.

Fiddleford helps ford with his weapon. If ford can destroy bill cipher, more dimensions will open up to be explored. If his and stans ford is still alive out there, they'll have a better shot if Bill is out of the picture. They send parallel!ford off a few days later. Fiddleford goes to Stan that night and calls him by a name that hasn't been spoken in 30 years. Stan can barely look at him. Fiddleford gives him time and space, but tells him he understands.

A month and a half later, a ripple is felt thru thousands of dimensions at once, the death of Bill cipher in every iteration is making its way thru the multiverse. Celebrations are happening as people cheer and laud thr name of the one who saved them, spread in a cosmic understanding by some greater power. Stanley Pines, shatterer of Bill Cipher.

4 years later, they find Ford. Ford in Stans body is old, ragged. He's missing an eye and an arm and so much more of who he used to be. But they bring him home. He doesn't want to switch bodies back.

Stan feels guilt eat at him, but ford is different than the other traveler they'd met. He's more settled. He thanks Stan for finding him. Doesn't blame him for how long it took. Didn't think he'd be come for anyway.

It's strange and rocky but slowly strides are made to bridge the gap of decades and become people they want to be, again. Brothers, friends, explorers. They never body swap again, but they settle into themselves and own who they are.

#stanley and stanford #fiddleford mcgucket #parallel ford #a better world au #but with a twist #gravity falls #flash fic #i wrote this on my phone #electron carpet #body swap au

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a-solitary-marshmallow · 3 years ago

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Rewind Chapter 10 - A Well-Deserved Rest

Me: "Now that we're reaching the end, the chapters will come a lot faster" :) Me now, a month later, sweating: "Okay so that was a lie"

My bad! Been pretty busy and I completely forgot to update this fic. Welp, hope you guys enjoy the chapter <3

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Stan’s awareness came back to him in little bits. The first thing he noticed was what his skin stung all over – like when he and Ford had gotten sunburnt on the beach, back when they first found the Stan ‘O War. It hurt when he moved his face. The next thing that came to him was the feeling of sticks and leaves and snow under his knees. His breaths were rasping in his throat, and sparks pitter-pattered to the ground before him. Ford’s fingers were digging into his arm and there was a triangle-shaped sunspot in his vision where the explosion had burned into his eyes. His heart was pounding, probably full of that chemical Ford talked about one time – ad-reny-lin?

“Oh mah lord!” Fiddleford’s voice sounded, muffled in Stan’s ears, high-pitched and breathless. “Oh my – are you two alright? Stanley, Stanford? Yer okay, right?”

“Um.” Stan did a quick mental once-over. “Yeah. I’m good.”

He tried to wriggle out of Ford’s grip but his brother was holding tight, breaths coming quick and fast. Stan managed to twist around to catch sight of Ford’s stunned expression. His cheeks and nose were a sunburned pink and he stared at where the triangle had just been with wide eyes.

“Ford, let me go.”

“What?” The scientist blinked, before quickly realizing who had spoken and bursting into action. “Stanley! Are you hurt? You were so close to the explosion-”

Before Stan could speak up Ford had adjusted his grip, grabbing Stan’s shoulders to scan him for injuries. Stan took the opportunity to look around. The whole clearing was kinda scorched, snow steaming where Bill had been only moments ago. The smell of burning filled his nose and he wrinkled his face up in displeasure, which only made it sting more.

And there was someone rushing towards them – Fidds! The thin scientist clutched the rifle to his chest with bandaged-up hands as he sloshed through half-melted snow.

Ford was still fussing, like their mother used to when one of them came home with a scraped knee or bloody nose. Stan pushed his hands away (one of which was bleeding through a temporary bandage, what happened to his hand???) “Ford, getoff! I’m fine.”

Ford snatched his hands back, a weird look on his face, before his eyes lit up as Fiddleford reached them. He grinned up at his old friend with something like amazement, and for a moment he looked kinda how Stan remembered him – a kid, all full of excitement and curiosity and shiny eyes.

“It worked. I can’t believe it worked!”

“Ah’m just glad I hit the bugger.” Fiddleford’s voice was still high and reedy – at least, more so than usual. “Look, I’m happy yer okay and all but let’s take this back to the house. Who knows what creepy things are hidin’ out here in the woods.”

Ford stood and the adults started talking about boring things. Stan did not get up yet. He took a deep breath and felt his heart rate begin to slow and suddenly realized that he was very tired.

It seemed kind of… anticlimactic, if Stan was being honest. He was expecting a huge showdown, during the pouring rain or a snowstorm, with fire in the background and maybe some lasers and explosions.

Instead he got a bully of a demon, scraped knees and Ford clutching him like his life depended on it.

Once Stan stood up, he quickly realized that those warm and fluffy boots Bill had created had disappeared alongside the demon, and his feet were numb again. It figured. He could probably walk back, but it would hurt like crazy. How long did it take to get frostbite? If he lost a toe or something it would be pretty cool. Babes loved scars, right?

Then again, seeing how every bone in his body felt like it was made of lead and his eyelids kept drooping shut on their own, maybe he couldn’t walk all the way back. He rubbed an eye with his fist and cast a glance at the two adults nearby – Ford insisting that the other man needed to go to the hospital to get his burns treated, Fiddleford retorting that he, in fact, did not. Fidds wouldn’t be able to give him a lift, not with how both his hands were injured.

Stan cringed. It was his stupid fault that Fidds had been hurt at all – he’d gotten burned trying to fix Stan’s dumb mistake. If Stan had just used his brain, not been such a moron, not messed with Ford’s experiments, then none of this would have happened in the first place. Why did he ever think he could help? Stan was just a no-good ignoramus like Pa always said-

“Stanley?” Ford was looking at him now, concern in his eyes, and Stan swallowed down his shame and instead reached out with grabby hands. Ford choked.

“My feet hurt.” Stan said flatly as a way of explanation. “Gimme a lift.” If Ford really felt sorry for saying all those mean things, then didn’t he owe Stan that much? That was how the adult world worked, right?

His brother had a confused look on his face, something that would have been funny if Stan was not falling asleep on his feet and feeling very cranky. “I – I don’t want to push your boundaries. I know I haven’t been fair to you recently, and if you don’t want me to touch you-”

“Ford I’m gonna get frostbite.”

“It’s – what do you – you’re not wearing shoes!”

_______________________________________________________________

The doctors at Gravity Falls hospital were fairly used to Ford turning up with the strangest injuries. Of course, he only went there when Fiddleford insisted. The man was terrible at following his own advice though, so Ford had to bully him into getting his injuries checked out as well. The only qualified doctor there (he was assuming the pixies that worked out of the hospital’s parking lot didn’t have valid medical licenses) took one look at the party and waved them in with a sigh.

While Ford and Fiddleford faced their treatment, Stan refused to be awake. The child had fallen dead asleep on Ford’s shoulders soon after they left the scorched clearing, and proceeded to snore in his ear the whole way to the hospital. After a quick examination (made more difficult by Stan sleepily waving away the annoyed nurse) he was declared just scraped up and ‘sunburned’. Ford, on the other hand, was subjected to the time-wasting procedure of getting stitches. Honestly, the wound wasn’t even that big! Sure it hurt, but a few painkillers and he would be back at peak condition.

Stan did not wake up on the way home. He also did not wake up when Ford placed him into his bed and tucked the blankets up to his chin. Fiddleford, hovering behind Ford anxiously, peered over his shoulder at the snoring boy.

“Is – is he okay? He’s sleepin’ awfully heavy there Stanford, are ya sure he didn’t hit his head at all?”

Ford let out a snort, fiddling with the bandages wrapped around his injured hand. “Are you kidding? Stan always sleeps like the dead. He once slept through an explosion when I messed up my chemical formulas in high school. His bed had ash on it. When he woke up the next morning he asked me where my eyebrows were.”

Fiddleford quirked an eyebrow. “Well, I guess we don’t need to worry about wakin’ him up. Come on down to th’ kitchen now – I think we need to have a talk.”

“…about what?”

Fiddleford fixed him with a stare and Ford wilted. “How about the demon ya summoned? All that junk with the portal? How yer brother got turned into a kid and ended up havin’ to shoulder all this? Or about watchin’ me go half mad and not thinking that, just maybe, the whole portal deal was dangerous?”

Ford winced. Fiddleford patted him on the shoulder, lightly – an olive branch extended across the yawning chasm between them. Ford didn’t know how to begin breaching that gap.

“O’ course, you didn’t deserve what happened to you either. So for once let’s put aside the pride and stubbornness and just talk.”

His friend’s eyes were pale blue and determined, and his hands were still shaking, and Ford didn’t deserve this kindness. He nodded.

“Okay.”

_______________________________________________________________

Stan woke up and immediately wished he was still asleep.

His skin stung all over, his face hot and itchy against the pillow he was curled up against. His feet ached and there was a crick in his neck, like he’d been thrown around on a rollercoaster. The sound of light scritching filled his ears – the scratching of a pen on paper from somewhere close by.

Being awake was overrated anyway. He tried to ignore the stinging and burrowed deeper into his blankets.

…nope, he was awake for good now. Darn it.

Stan peered up sleepily, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. Ford’s room again? This felt weirdly familiar, like when he’d first woken up in the future. And like that time Ford was across the room at his desk, scribbling away in his fancy journal.

Stan rubbed his eyes and slung his legs over the edge of the bed, carefully dropping to the floor below. It was cold on his aching feet but he could stand, which was a plus! So he probably didn’t have frostbite.

Stan yawned and headed across the room to where his brother was frantically journaling.

“Mornin’, Sixer.”

“Oh! Good morning, Stanley.” Ford clicked his pen and looked around. Stan muffled a shriek.

“Oh geez! What’s wrong with your face?”

Ford’s face was green and shiny and very not normal. The scientist rolled his eyes and explained as though it was obvious, “It’s just a burn gel. I developed it to be far more effective than the regular medicinal kind. Now that you’re awake, you should put it on too.”

Stan let out a nervous laugh. “Uh, no thanks, I think I’m all better now-”

Ford caught him by the shirt before Stan could bolt. He kicked and complained as his brother produced a tube of gel.

“Don’t you dare put that on me, it looks like snot-”

Ford smeared a bit on his cheek.

It… actually made the pain go away. Stan stilled as the cool gel took effect, numbing the stinging of his skin. Ford let him go and offered him the tube. Stan wanted to smack it out of his hands just to stop Ford making that smug face, but his skin really stung…

He took the tube.

“Better now?” Ford said, annoyingly smug. Stan poked his tongue out. “Very mature, Stanley.”

“I’m not the adult! I’m not supposed to be mature.”

“That’s very true.” Ford turned around in his chair and continued writing.

Once Stan was done covering his face in gross-looking gel he stretched up on his tiptoes to see what Ford was doing. The nerd had one of his journals and he was writing in a new entry, a bunch of crumpled-up pieces of paper littering the table. Even if Stan had been good at reading, he doubted he would be able to understand Ford’s loopy scribbles.

“Where’s Fidds?” Stan asked after a moment. Ford reached the end of the page and flipped over to a fresh one.

“He’s gone home to see his family. Now that Bill isn’t a threat anymore he wants to mend bridges, so to speak. I… also need to do that.”

Ford looked around to meet his eyes and ugh, he was going to say something sappy wasn’t he? Stan reached up to try and pull himself onto the desk, but he didn’t quite have the upper body strength and ended up kicking in the air. Ford sighed, brushed his journal to the side and lifted Stan into its place. He swung his legs awkwardly.

“…I have an apology to make.” Ford said eventually. Stan tilted his head. “Listen, Stanley. I’ve recently come to terms with the fact that I – well, I haven’t been fair to you. I let anger cloud my judgment for years, I valued that anger more than my own brother. I’m sorry.” Ford lifted a head to rub at his neck, eyes darting around the room but never landing on Stan’s face. “We’ve both made mistakes, obviously, and neither of us is without blame, but… ugh, that’s not how you apologize.” He seemed to pull himself together and try again. “What I’m saying is that I was unfair to you. I was hurt so I hurt you, and I think I may have ruined your life-”

Stan burst out laughing.

He didn’t mean to laugh, honest, but the sight of Ford’s nervous, sincere expression covered in green goo was just too much to handle. He tried to stifle his giggles with his hands, caught sight of Ford’s shocked face, and burst out laughing again so hard that his ribs hurt.

“I – this is funny to you? I’m trying to apologize-”

“No, it’s not that!” The hurt in Ford’s voice made everything a little less funny. Stan opened his mouth to explain, choked on his own spit and went into a coughing fit. It turns out, it’s hard to speak when you’re hacking your lungs up. Ford seemed to take pity on him and thumped him on the back until Stan could breathe again. “It’s just-” Another cough. “You look so funny, Poindexter.”

Ford’s eyebrows furrowed, and Stan pointed at his own green face to demonstrate.

“We look like ogres and you’re choosing now to be all sappy and sorry. I mean, you gotta see that it’s a bit funny.”

“…I suppose.” The corner of Ford’s mouth lifted and he didn’t look mad, so Stan took that as a win. He paused, trying to understand everything that Ford had just thrown at him. Most of it was just confusing, and Ford really seemed to have decide that the weird dreams were memories even though Stan didn’t get most of them. He wasn’t dumb though. That science fair thing actually had happened, with Stan ruining Ford’s project and getting kicked out. Reaching out to his brother and having the curtains being closed in his face – that had really happened.

As for the rest, all those dark and depressing ones, he kinda hoped they were just dreams. If they weren’t, if they were real, he wasn’t sure he wanted to live through them.

…no, wait. He already had lived through them, hadn’t he? He just couldn’t remember it. Because these were memories he’d lost and was getting back, Ford said so. Stan wondered what kind of person he’d ended up being. Probably cool and badass. With a sword. No, knuckledusters, those were way cooler! And maybe an eyepatch.

He got the sense that a grown-up him with all those memories and experiences would be angrier, but he couldn’t imagine any version of himself turning their back on their brother.

“I mean, I don’t think you ruined my life.” Stan reasoned, making Ford blink. “It was Pa that kicked me out, right?”

“But it was my fault-”

“And probably mine too. I make plenty of mistakes. You remember that time I kinda accidentally stole Pa’s medallion because I broke the case and panicked?”

Ford let out a little laugh. Stan reached out to punch him in the shoulder.

“Look, I dunno, I’m a kid. You gotta talk to grown-up me. But I’ll always forgive ya, Ford. Otherwise I’d be a hip-oh-crit.”

“The word is ‘hypocrite’.” Ford muttered quietly, and Stan could have sworn his brother’s eyes were pink and shiny. He decided to be very cool and nice and not mention it.

“But!” Stan pointed a finger at Ford’s nose and the man went cross-eyed looking at it. “I’m still mad about you being a jerk. You gotta make up for that.”

“…what do you want me to do?”

Hm. Stan hadn’t thought this far ahead. He paused as he thought. “You have to… take me on an adventure! And I get to ride on your shoulders and be tall whenever I want.”

Ford opened his mouth to argue, and then closed it again. Stan fist-pumped triumphantly.

“Yes! No takebacks! I wanna go beat up those unicorns!”

“Sure, Stan.” Ford let out a long-suffering sigh, but not the serious kind – the joking kind that meant he was having fun. It felt nice. It felt like coming home.

#fic #my fic #gravity falls #the stans #rewind #chapter 10

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introvert-no-chameleon · 4 years ago

Text

Meeting the Man-Ape

So @sleepsentry made this amazing AU and my childhood Tarzan phase came back like a vengeful ghost and teamed up with my current GF obsession to deliver this ficlet and an entire outline.

Anyway, here’s how I imagine Fidds’ and Tarzan!Stan first meeting.

Fiddleford should have said no when his old college friend had invited him to a scientific expedition to study anomalies in other countries. Maybe if he hadn't been so disillusioned with his lap computers, or if he hadn't gone through a divorce, he would've had enough sense to stay at home.

Instead, here he was, in some god-forsaken jungle in the middle of nowhere on a tree of all things, hugging the massive moss-covered trunk for dear life.

The humidity was suffocating, making him sweat to the point where his button up stuck stubbornly to his skin. He felt wet in uncomfortable places, itchy in others, and overall decided he did not, in fact, want to be here. To make matters worse, he was sure he would stumble onto camp smelling like wet socks. The ominous chirping and roaring in the jungle around him did nothing to alleviate his stress nor did the occasional shufflingnhe'd heard among the trees.

He'd gotten chased up a tree, lost his shoe and lost track of Stanferd and their incredibly untrustworthy guide, (a poacher of all things) and he was pretty sure he was about to fall to his untimely demise.

Wonderful. They'll probably never find his body in this unholy mess. His tombstone will read “Fiddleford Hadron McGucket, the Biggest Damn Fool to Ever Live”.

He huffed, holding onto the tree he was in the process of climbing. The tips of his toes were on the one he'd stood on. He stretched, pulled his weight up...and found himself stuck between both of them with no way to move.

Fuck.

"Well," he muttered. "It ain't like this can get any worse."

As if the Lord Himself had heard Fiddleford, a clap of thunder shook the sky, followed by a heavy torrent of rain.

"You know what? I shoulda known better."

He slumped, hanging his head between his shoulder blades. Against his better judgement he decided to see just how high up he was to assess just how bad he messed up.

One can imagine his surprise, then, when another human face floated inches away from his own.

Fiddleford yelled, pushing himself away from the stranger. He immediately regretted the knee-jerk reaction when he felt his body swerve downwards. Apparently, he was high up enough that the trunks of the trees felt dizzyingly tall. He flailed his arms in an attempt to regain balance.

A single finger poked his nose, then gently pushed him back. The gesture sent Fiddleford toppling backwards, until his butt landed on a steady surface.

Oh thank goodness. He exhaled in relief, allowing himself a few moments to regain his composure.

The soft thud in front of him jolted him back to his current situation. Or rather, the person whom he was with.

A masculine figure with thick, long locks of brown hair and hunched on fours much like an ape, observed Fiddleford with curious, child-like wonder. The only thing this person wore to preserve their modesty was a loincloth. The rest of their body had impressive muscles, their fingers and toes wide-spread to better their grip on the trunk they were on. Which meant they not only climbed their way up, they must've done so quickly, because Fiddleford certainly would've noticed a person like this around him.

Right. The fabled man-ape. Of course Stanferd would've actually been right about this one thing, and of course Fiddleford had been the one to find them.

No matter. His momma had taught him manners, and he wasn't about to throw those away just because he was in unfamiliar territory. "Er, howdy," said Fiddleford, cautiously. "It's a pleasure to meet ya, the name's Fiddleford Hadron McGucket." He extended his hand to the stranger.

The ape-man cocked their head to the side. Fiddleford couldn't help but notice how eerily similar this person was to Stanferd. Aside from the fact that they haven't shaved, they still had the same broad nose, the bushy eyebrows, the brown eyes alight with excitement.

Please, this ain't some movie. Stanferd havin' some secret twin? That would be ridiculous. But back to the situation at hand--he probably don't understand a thing I'm sayin'. This'll be tricky…

The man-ape cleared their throat. They pointed at themself, and with a shocklingly deep voice, said: "Er...howdy. The name's Fiddleford Hadron McGucket."

Now that was interesting. "Fascinating...ya even copied the inflection of mah voice."

The man-ape copied Fiddleford's sentence again, looking pleased with themselves.

"That still spells the question of whether or not ya understand--now hold on just one second!"

The ape-man had crawled over and admired Fiddleford's shoe-less foot, a process which entailed pulling Fiddleford closer for inspection. They were mighty strong, too, judging by how easily he moved Fiddleford.

The scientist slapped the ape-man's hand away. "See here, there is no need for that kind of tomfoolery!"

The ape-man grunted. The message didn't come across, because he went back to touching him, albeit more carefully.

"No, no, that ain't what I meant!" A giggle escaped Fiddleford as he touched each of his toes, soon replaced by full-on-laughter.

This startled his companion, who drew back for a moment, giving Fiddleford enough time to catch his breath. They stared, watching Fiddleford intently.

They suddenly widened their eyes. Approaching Fidds once more, he placed a hand on his own chest. Then he slowly moved his own to Fiddleford's, waiting.

Now intrigued again, Fiddleford placed the hand over his chest. Once a few moments passed, they brought Fiddleford's entire head to his own chest and good lord they were hairy.

They also smelled like a sweaty mess. Fiddleford was quick to push them away. "Yes, that's a...mighty fine heartbeat ya have. Very healthy."

If this is what the anomalies felt when they studied them, he couldn't blame some of them for wanting to rip he and Ford a new one. He himself felt more than a little irritated at the bold-faced intrusiveness.

They extended their hand, but this time stopped in mid air, and held their palm towards Fiddleford.

With some hesitation, Fiddleford went up and held his own palm up. They placed it right against his. When their fingers interlaced Fiddleford's, he felt his face flush.

He drew his hand back towards himself, coughing. "Well, I-I think that's enough of that."

"Tar...stan."

Fiddleford blinked up at his new companion. "Say what now?"

They pointed at themselves. "Tarstan." They pointed at Fiddleford. "Er...howdy. The name's Fiddleford Hadron McGucket."

Fiddleford chuckled. "That's too much of a mouthful, I reckon."

"That's too much of a-"

Fiddleford shook his head. "No, it's. Now, wait, look at me," he said gesturing at their eyes and then himself. "Fiddleford."

"Fiddleford," they said, pointing at the scientist. They gestured at themself. "Tarstan."

Fiddleford nodded, his mouth split into a grin. "That's right! Now we're gettin' somewhere."

The sound of a gunshot had him jolt upwards, cursing up a storm. He was thankful Tarstan was too occupied glancing at the source of the sound to repeat any of it.

"That must be Bill." His lips curled into a disgusted frown. "Damn fool, shooting all over the place, he'll hurt somebody…"

Tarstan imitated the gunshot, an amused smile playing on their lips.

An idea formed in Fiddleford's head. "Do ya think ya can get me over there? To where that noise is?"

They grinned, which he took as a good sign as any. Tarstan looping his arm around his waist was considerably less reassuring.

"Er, what're we doing--sweet sarsaparilla!"

Tarstan leaped onto a vine, keeping his grip on Fiddleford as he did so. He managed to not only keep his grip, but also swing them from vine to vine in the direction of Bill's shooting.

He couldn't describe it then, but later on he'd reflect on the ominous twist in the pit of his stomach as they approached the camp. If Fiddleford had known just what would've happened in the next few months, he probably would've never brought them anywhere near Bill.

Extra Ideas that I Have:

-Ford secretly has been hoping to find his lost twin, who “died” in the same area as the fabled “man-ape” because he was separeted from his brother at a young age when [insert whatever idea one may have to explain how Stan could end up in a jungle being raise by apes, because I don’t have one]. He is estatic that not only is his brother alive, he’s an anomaly just like him!

-I imagine Bill’s motives being very similar to the Tarzan villain (whatever his name is) . Fidds in this AU is more suspicious, but is still unable to stop him alone.

-Fiddleford ends up falling for Tarzan!Stan and vice versa much like Jane does in the OG film.

-Stanford also is intent on having his brother return to civilization, but Tarzan!Stan is unsure about leaving.

-I imagine them having an ending similar to the film.

#tarstan au #stan pines #fiddleford hadron mcgucket #ford pines #bill cipher #gravity falls #i rewatched an entire scene just to write this #i never imagined this is what i would be doing at 25 but that's life kids #i don't have ideas they just chase me with a net and pin me down until i write them #or blindside me at work #fiddlestan

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glassbxttless · 4 years ago

Text

Clyde Logan x Reader

Part Three

Summary: just Clyde being a dad (:

Word Count: 1,196

The same letter board that held Benjamin’s name four years ago now reads,

Andrew James Logan

Due in February

Clyde had the same stupidly huge smile on his face for this announcement photo that he did in Ben’s. But this time, he held his little buddy on his hip, flesh arm wrapped around him as they both held the letter Board. Hair was peeking out from under Clyde’s hat along with the tips of his ears.

Two years of trying for this one, two years paid off for you two to be having another perfect little boy. You felt impossibly more round than you did before, at only twenty weeks. Clyde sat Benjamin down after you’d taken their photo and placed his hand on your belly. He loved feeling your belly.

“Mama.” Ben patted your thigh gently. “There’s a baby?” You just ruffled his hair and nodded.

“Mhm, there’s a baby.” Your grin was ear to ear as Clyde began to pick up the toys Ben had left out on the floor of the trailer.

“How do you get the baby?” He asks curiously. You rolled your eyes and smiled, that’s a question for your daddy, sweet cheeks.

At week 38, You felt so impossibly big that you couldn’t even bend down to do simple tasks anymore. But Clyde was picking up the slack you left. When Ben’s toys were scattered through the living room floor of the trailer— he was the one running along and coaxing Ben to pick up.

Clyde was even insisting you stay in bed, he’d take care of you, the house, his job, and Benjamin. You knew his heart was in it. But could see how quickly it was going to wear him down. “Just let me help, Clyde. I can make dinner.” You laughed, placing a hand on your lower back as you stretched a bit. You felt like you were bigger now than you were with Benjamin.

Clyde smiles as he places his hands on your tummy, his thumb rubbing a soothing circle as you turn your head to check on where Ben was. “Honeybee, I can take care of us. More than capable.

“I know you’re capable.” You say to him, a hand over his as he continues the soothing circles. “But I’m also capable. This pregnancy has been amazing. Fit as a fidd— Ben!” You reach out to grab the collar of Benjamin’s shirt to keep him from running face first into the countertop.

“Let him play, honey. He’s a growin’ boy.” Clyde says softly and fixes the collar of Ben’s shirt for him. “Run on and play. Don’t scare your mama.” He whispers, giving him a pat on the back as Benjamin throws a thumbs up and runs into his bedroom.

“Can’t keep putting off fixing Ben’s room around for Andy.” You say as you move to pull the thawed chicken from the fridge and seasonings to cook with. “Need to put the crib up.”

“Honeybee, stop worryin’ that pretty lil head.” Clyde mumbles as he lifts Benjamin up, holding him on his hip with his flesh arm around him. “Papa bear’s got it. Huh Benny?”

“Daddy got it.” He nods as Clyde sits him in his chair.

“I’m not worrying really. He could be here any day now and we haven’t set up anything yet.” You smile at him. “Literally any day.”

Clyde rolled his eyes as you three ate together, Andrew kicking your rib and causing some major heartburn as you went.

At week 40, you two woke up on the morning of the 14th. The day you’d scheduled your next c-section. Sadie had come by to watch Benjamin. You made sure to tell her he had to eat his dinner and no juice after seven. That he could play outside as long as he took a bath— and you two were off.

After being prepped for your surgery, Clyde was holding your hand the entire time. Which might’ve been different from Benjamin’s birth. He didn’t stand to watch this time, just whispered each and every thing that was happening, wishing you realized just how perfect what you’re doing was.

When they cleared his lungs, the two of you heard a small cry. It’s little Andrew.

When you brought Andy home, you set Benjamin on the couch and Andrew in his lap. Clyde sat beside them, supporting Andy’s head with a smile. Your three boys.

Your heart was so full. You didn’t ever wanna let this moment go. But soon Andy and Ben would be out running around and playing. Maybe they’d get Clyde out there with them. Teaching them to shoot cans and to be gentlemen. But right now you got to see all three of your boys sitting there in front of you.

When it came time for bedtime, you bathed Ben and Andy together; got them into their pjs, and Clyde helped you get them to bed. He tucked Benjamin in as he laid Andrew into his crib. After their bedtime story, and shutting their light off, you two crawled into your own bed.

“Our first night with them both was successful.” You say as Clyde reads from his book. Clyde only hums in response. He loved them both more than anything, maybe more than he loved you. His kids would come first as long as he lived and you didn’t mind. Your kids came first to you too. No matter how much you loved Clyde.

When Andrew was two and Benjamin was six, Clyde decided to sit them both down after a particularly long day shift at the Duck Tape and an unusual amount of misbehaving for you on your kids part. “Now your mama tells me you two’ve been causing trouble.”

Andrew gives Clyde his biggest smile and reaches out for him, “daddy! be good.” He says softly.

Clyde smiles and puts his hands down. “You were not good today. Neither was your brother.” You watched them from where you were cooking, Clyde just talked and talked about them needing to behave when he was gone.

“Now go give your mama a hug and say you’re sorry.” He gives them both a kiss on the head as they stand and he sighs, sitting down himself to relax for a moment. His boys were his biggest accomplishment— maybe besides you. and he wanted to mold them into fine young men.

You hug both of your boys, kissing their cheeks and opening the front door to the trailer. “Go on out and play, boys. Don’t leave the yard.

“Daddy says we—”

“I said don’t leave the yard.” You say a little more stern as the boys run out to play. You pour a glass of sweet tea and bring it over to Clyde, sitting on his lap as he takes the glass. “They’ve been saying all day you and Jimmy promised to take them fishing.”

“Mm, we did.” Clyde takes a few drinks and closes his eyes. “Friday, maybe.”

You smile, tucking back a strand of his hair. Your life with him couldn’t possibly get any better than it was. “Clyde?”

“Hm, honey bee?”

“You ready to be a daddy again?”

#clyde logan #clyde logan x reader #clyde x reader #glassbxttless adcu #dad!clyde #dad!clyde logan

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