#But also. I think Ford would find comfort in the idea that Stan would still do it???

[puns-and-musicals]

I headcanon that Ford’s eyesight is really quite abysmal which makes getting his hair cut a huge problem. On top of being an inconvenience and a waste of his precious time, he’s giving complete control over to a stranger for the entire duration, Long story short, Stan got pretty good at cutting hair, before he was kicked out.

When Mabel finds out she insists he cuts her hair, and when he gives in he does surprisingly well, topping it off with a headband of her choice, of course.

Dipper absolutely refuses to let Stan anywhere near him with a set of scissors, which is fair enough all things considered.

During his time through the portal, Ford cuts his own hair when it gets too unruly but never quite gets the hang of it. He spends 30 years on the run in dimensions of varying levels of hostility where the idea of letting someone hold a blade to his head is foolish at best.

When they leave on the Stan-o-War II, Stan packs his clippers and a cheap pair of barber scissors. He isn’t really sure why, but it feels important, somehow.

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

enamored with the bill possessing Ford's body au. If you would feel up to it, do you have more tidbits? :3

I’m happy to see so many people enjoying it!! I have a lot of additional tidbits so I’ll just stick to giving a few for now:

— Dipper finds out Ford is the author a lot earlier, for the obvious reasons of Bill being present in Ford’s body. He doesn’t put the pieces together right away, only because initially, he hates Bill, disappointed that the ‘scientist’ his parents spoke about that he wanted to impress turned out to be nothing like what he had hoped, ignoring and dismissing him instead, even taking a liking to Mabel before him! He has this idealised version of the author in his head, someone who he relates to and finds comfort in, and he doesn’t want to taint that vision by suspecting it may be someone who he hates. He may be a mystery lover but he is still a twelve year old with a grudge.

It’s only after he and Bill start getting along that he brings it up, and Bill doesn’t think to lie. He’s just that surprised Dipper found it. He does lie about not remembering things though to avoid Dipper’s questions about the paranoia and why he hid it — as on the spot kind of thing, and that becomes Dipper’s mystery fixation of the summer.

— Stan and Bill have various nicknames for each other, with Bill’s main one for Stan being ‘Fez’, and Stan’s main one for Bill being ‘Goldie’.

— Speaking of them, when it comes to their relationship, they are genuinely friends after thirty years of living together, but what that friendship entails is where it gets complicated and I don’t think I can summarise here. I’d say it can best be described as two people who have come to understand each other very deeply, and are similar in a thousand ways, but they would rather throw themselves off a cliff than acknowledge or talk about that. There’s also the lingering anger and resentment on Stan’s end, not for taking Ford’s body, he knows Bill doesn’t want to be stuck here either, but for what he did to Ford before that, how he hurt him. He, much to his confusion, does care about Bill, and Bill, much to his own confusion as well, does care about Stan back, but their friendship is built on something awful, and that doesn’t just go away.

— On a sillier note, it was in 1990 that Stan realised Bill was his only friend and that he sort of enjoyed his company, and that truly was a horrifying moment. On the other end Bill finally admits to some degree he might care for Stan in 1994, which happens while both of them are drunk, and Bill likes to claim it didn’t happen. The image below also probably summarises the lighter aspect of their dynamic better than I could word it here:

— Bill has taxidermy as a hobby and actually gives Dipper and Mabel a few lessons in it, creating some displays for the shack. Weirdly good bonding activity.

— Very specific ‘episode’ idea in my mind where Stan and Bill get framed by Faires that Bill angered a thousand years ago for a crime they didn’t commit, and Dipper and Mabel have to figure out how to prove their innocence, finding more about their Grunkles along the way, and also having to beat a fairy in a game of poker.

— Mabel at some point comes to the conclusion her “Grunkle Ford” had a bad breakup that he still hasn’t gotten over and makes it her goal to help him through it. This is part of her summer mission. It comes up frequently. It’s ridiculous I know but what is Gravity Falls without a generous amount of both angst and utter silliness.

I’ll probably leave it at that for now! But if you’d want more or have any specific questions, I shall do my best. I’m still figuring out some stuff too so input will be helpful.

[mooooonnnzz]

Hi I just wanna say I read the Dad! Stanley hcs you did and it was sooo goood I loved every bit of it.

I was wondering if you could do a bit of an angsty request where Stanley's child is in there late teens an gets possesed by Bill, like what do you think his reaction would be, since when dipper got possesed by bill, bill physicaly injured dippers body a lot and was just genuinely careless with his body. Also I have no idea when the reader would be possesed by bill mabey after Ford is back to make things extra angsty since ford knows of bill, idk do whatever you like with this request I just like angst with for no reason whatsoever.

Also I did try to find if you had any request rules but I couldn't find any so if you do have rules and this request is something you don't feel comfortable writing then please just ignore this request, I hope you have a brilliant day or night :D.

Another thing I just wanted to mention is I'm sorry for how long this request is.

Far From The Weight of The World

Dad!Stanley Pines x Teen!Reader

❀ 9,1k words its a loottt so if ur ready to hunker down and read a whole bunch this is for u!!

❀ guess who finished far from the weight of the world THIS GUYYY

❀ it wouldn't have ever seen the light of day if it wasn't for @raventeen they helped me sm!! like they helped every single step of the way and chose the direction of where this should go so big thanks to them <3

❀ i hope you all enjoy this! :3

❀ possible tw: description of skin melting off, throwing up blood, self inflicted harm, more blood, uhh broken bones? even more blood

❀ gn!reader

❀ i love dad stan pines smmm

❀ requests r still open hehe

“Sweetheart!” Stan’s footsteps could be heard thumping on the ground towards you. You marched forwards, your throat painfully knotted in a ball, suppressing your sobs and swallowing your words. Your head swirled with the word liar, spinning around hastily. Whispers of Mable and Dipper could be heard distantly behind you, their concerned eyes digging holes right through you. Too swept up by your wind of emotions you ignored their worried looks. 

“We can talk about this, kiddo. Just give me a second.” His fingers curl against your arm but you yank it away before he’s able to wrap them around you. “What do you want, Dad?” You promptly turned around, glassy eyes somberly staring into his wide ones. “Can you please give me a chance. Hear me out,” his voice cracked at the end, his hands twitching to desperately reach out to you and prevent you from taking another step further away from him. “I don’t know If I can trust you, Dad.” Uttering that sentence shattered something within you. Not once have you thought of yourself ever telling your very own dad that you don’t trust him. He had never given you a reason to distrust him. To you, all his past lies were seen as truth to you, undeniable facts that couldn’t be broken apart because his word carried high validity, to you at least. But now, you’re not even sure that he’s telling you the truth right now.

Ford’s heavy shoes sounded on the creaky wooden floors, announcing his presence wordlessly. “[Name], dear. Listen to your father.” He adds. He looked at you with an analytical stare, twisting your stomach inside out. You didn’t like how he looked at you like you were one of his captured anomalies, inspecting you and reading your tense body language, anticipating for the second where you’d act out of pure emotion so he’d supply you with meaningless words that held nothing but empty hope to burn out the flurry of emotions that ran rampant inside you.

“I don’t want to hear anything from you, Uncle Ford.” You spat out. He was the last person you wanted to hear anything from. From time to time, you’ve begged him to tell you what exactly is going around here yet he’d always brush you aside, dismissing whatever you’d ask and move on with the next thing that gripped his attention. “You never wanted to say anything to me until now.” 

Ford, not expecting your answer, stumbled with his words. He shakes his head, almost as if he’s expelling his shock with the shakes and regains his composure. “[Name],” he starts off with a stern tone. “You are acting purely on your emotions. I need you to compose yourself and talk to us when you’re relaxed enough to form a proper sentence that doesn’t have you snapping at us.” 

Your jaw gawks open. “So you’re telling me that I shouldn’t be feeling upset over this? 

Ford clicked his tongue, a twinge of frustration oozing out of him. Everything you’re saying is going off the script Ford had curated in his head. He’s rendered useless as he scrambles for words he can put together in a sentence that’ll feasibly flip your train of thought around and convince you that the way you’re acting is irrational. 

Ford waved his head side to side, unsure with his answer. Stan noticed the apprehension shrouded on Ford’s face and he silently signaled to him to not say what he’s about to say, already knowing that his poor choice of words was going to send this whole situation right on its back. Too stubborn for his own good, Ford stood his ground and opened his mouth much to Stan’s clear distaste of him speaking his mind. 

“Yes but no.” You grit your teeth together, eyes narrowly staring daggers at Ford who looked seemingly pleased with his response.

Stan gulps nervously, taking a cautious step forward. “Sweetie, don’t listen to him. He’s an idiot. He doesn’t know what–” 

“--You’re telling me that I’m overreacting? I have just found out that my dad has been lying to me since the moment I was born! And to make matters worse, you all are hiding things from me. None of you are bothering to tell me what the hell is going on here. Why are we all so secretive? We all promise to tell each other everything, no more secrets, no more lies! What happened to that? You all know something and I have a right to know as well!”

You heaved out a ragged breath, words spilling out of you in a madden rush. You held down your tongue for too long. Long nights of sneaky meandering had left you scrambling all the pieces they had discarded on secrets of Gravity Falls together, solving and answering all the questions you laid out for them but chose to ignore. All the lies Stan had fed you over the years concerning this supposed lazy town was unraveling right in front of you. What else had he been hiding from you? What other filthy lies had he pushed on you that you so mindlessly believed? 

Stan’s mouth flounders, stammers of jumbled sounds spilled out. His arms are rendered at his side, stunned with your outburst. “I thought I was protecting you.” He whispers, his fingers flexing anxiously. “Dad! This whole summer has been nothing but crazy. I didn’t know that we had half of those monsters in our woods because you lied to me and told me that it’s been my imagination. What if I had gotten close to one thinking that it was all in my head, and the beast mauls my head off. What then, Dad?” 

Stan deflates. Lost for words, he runs a hand down his gray hair. Thinking about finding your bloodied body sent full body chills down his spine and his stomach lurching. He never sat down and thought of the consequences of what he told you. As long as he said that it was all in your head, he thought you would’ve strayed away from them. 

“I’m going outside. Maybe some stupid gnome would actually tell me what’s going on here because nobody here wants to even tell me anything.” The door slammed shut, causing everything on the wall to rattle and almost tip over. “Oh,” Stan drooped his head onto his palms, tears swelling in his eyes. “I really screwed up here.” He whispered to himself, his voice crackly and small. 

Ford patted his back and Stan believed for a quick moment that Ford was going to say something so beautifully uplifting that he’d see the brighter sides of things, but he tells him, “When are you not?” and continues to pat his back.

Stan violently shrugged Ford’s hand off, his hand pushing Ford away from him. “Really, poindexter?” He scoffs, walking off into the living room where Mable and Dipper watched the whole scene unfold. “I thought it would offer some comfort!” He defeatedly argues back, a dejected sigh escaping him when his eyes meet Mable’s watery ones and Dipper’s disappointed glare. “Kids, I—“ Mable swiftly turns her head to the side, mumbling something under her breath as she ambles up to her room. 

“I’m going to find them.” Stan walks in, slipping on a jacket to shield him from the cold. “I’m coming too.” Ford reaches out to grab the doorknob when Stan’s hand stops him from doing so. “I don’t think they want to see you right now.” Stan gingerly shoved Ford out of the way, leaving him to his thoughts as he shut the door behind him. Cursing to himself, Ford rams his foot on the door angrily. 

Venturing far into the lush woods, you grumbled bitterly to yourself. You couldn’t even trust your own family to tell you something so simple. How utterly pathetic is that? 

You fought the urge to punch a nearby tree and continued on, getting yourself lost in the natural maze of the forest. You wanted to get as far away as possible just so you can find time for yourself to cool down. After a while, the cold air started to nip at your exposed arms. The hairs on your body stood up as a cold shiver rippled through you. Hugging yourself to provide some warmth you found yourself sitting on the grassy floor, back leaning against the bark of the tree. 

The soft chirps and squeaks of the animals brought a sense of calmness over you. These woods have been declared dangerous by Stan and for the longest time you never went out here without Stan hovering behind you or Soos mindlessly meandering through the woods with you. Your hands swayed across the green blades of grass, focusing on the itchy feeling that ran through your palms rather than the bitter cold. The faint whistles of the wind swirled around your ears and out around you. Has this forest always been so peaceful? Leaning your head against the trunk of the tree, you closed your eyes shut. Relishing in the comforting nature the woods provided you. 

“Sweetheart?” Your eyes shoot open. “Dad?” Your heart quickens, your head whipping around rapidly. “Sweetie?” Stan’s voice grew closer and closer. The sound of the grass crunching and bending under his steps resounded throughout the quiet woods, his calls becoming more frequent and louder. How did he find you so quickly? 

A shadowy figure, one you’ve grown to recognize, stepped out from the shade and presented himself. “[Name].” Stan sweetly calls out, kneeling down beside you. “Dad? What are you doing here?” 

Stan smiled, opening his mouth but all that came out was a raspy breath. “Wha–” Your voice hitches in your throat. 

Stan’s skin started melting off in a disgusting mess of bubbling flesh. The side of his face became a drooping mess and a crazed cackle left his lips. “You should’ve seen the look on your face, kid!” He points a boney finger at you, melted flesh sludge dripping from the bone. You scramble back, terrified screams ripping out of you. 

“W-What is going on?” You push yourself up from the floor with your hand, bile coating the back of your throat at the horrid sight of Stan’s bloodied flesh sploshing to the floor. “I’m just playing tricks on you!” With a snap of his finger, Stan poofed away in thin air. What took his spot was an ominous floating triangle with a top hat. “Well, well, well, look who it is, [Name]! I knew we'd cross paths sooner or later. I gotta admit, I'm thrilled!” His eye crinkled in a joyous smile. 

“How…” You blinked dumbly at the floating triangle. “I’m dreaming, right?”

“You sure are, kid!” 

A wave of recognition passes through you. This was the god Ford was talking about in one of his journals. Your knowledge of him was not much, but from the tidbits you have read, Ford had admired this god. He went as far as to calling the triangle his muse. What was his name? Wasn’t it– “Bill?” His name spills out of your mouth. “Ah! So you do know about me?” He tilts a little in your direction, his hands clasped together. “Hear anything good?” A glimmer of forlorn hope shimmers in his eye before it’s washed away with an inquisitive look. “I-I think so? My Uncle really liked you from what I had read in his journals.” You squint your eyes in thought.

“Oh, he really liked me.” Bill’s charmed voice had entailed that there was more to the story than what was told but he didn’t give you time to mull over that thought before jumping into the flow of another topic. “But that’s all in the past now, right?” He snaps his fingers, a comfortable looking chair appearing before your eyes. He floated down on the chair, kicking his legs up and crossing them. 

“I heard that a little someone has been lied to, isn’t that unfortunate?” The corner of his eye pulled to the side, almost as if it was a sadden frown. “How did you know?” The chair poofs away.  “I see everything, kid!” His hands fall to his sides and he slowly leans towards you, his eye pulled wide open. Flashes of images you couldn’t quite comprehend flickered by in a brisk montage. “Everything.” He draws out. “Anyways, I've got a deal for you. You give me, I give you. Sounds fair, doesn't it?” 

You raise a brow. “How can I trust you?” You rolled your fingers around the grass, delicately pulling on them. 

“Your dear Uncle Ford trusted me!” He shakes his hands enthusiastically. 

You pressed your lips into a thin line, still not convinced. “You literally pretended to be my dad and melted him right in front of me.” Bill put his fists to his sides, huffing out like a little child. “Can’t a triangle have a little fun here?” He rolled his eye dramatically. You eyed him, skepticism evident on your face. “I don’t know…” You plucked out a few blades of grass from the dirt. “I feel like if you wanted to gain my trust then you shouldn’t have done that.” You crumpled up the grass into a little green ball and tossed it at Bill. The ball passes through his body. 

“Maybe you’ll change your mind once I propose the deal..?” Bill’s eye stretched out and morphed into a mouth with his lips puckered. He whistles out a tune you can’t recognize and innocently kicks the air. “Go on,” You wave your hand out to him. “If you make a deal with me, everything that you’ve been wanting to know will be revealed to you. All you have to do is shake my hand.” He extended out his hand, blue flame engulfing it whole. You blink your eyes in surprise. Was it really that easy? “There’s no catch?” 

Bill’s fingers trembled in anticipation. “None whatsoever!” 

You could trust him, right? Ford had trusted him! Bill even confirmed it himself. And with what you read, Bill had been giving him infinite knowledge. Feeding him thoughts that no one else had thought of before. He did manage to build that portal and come to think of it, wasn’t it triangular shaped? Was that Bill shaped or were you reaching? You think for a minute more, weighing the pros and the cons. Biting your tongue, you looked at Bill. Bill made a deal with Ford and he’s still alive and well, so how bad could it really be?

You bite the bullet and grasp onto his hand, the flame trailing towards you and consuming your hand whole. A maniacal laugh rips through the air and the world stills. The color drains around you, unpleasantly welcoming you to a monochrome world. “That was just too easy!” Bill wipes a tear from his eye, his firm grip on your hand never wavering. “W-What do you mean?” You tried forcefully pulling your hand away from Bill’s iron grip but it felt like your whole hand was encased in stone. No matter how hard you tried prying yourself away from his hold, his hand still didn’t budge. His eye twists into a pleased smile, his fingers thumping against the edge of your palm gleefully. 

“Was I an idiot for trusting you?” Your words came out in a quiet whisper. You can feel the life being sucked out of you as Bill drew his hand back. “Yes! Absolutely!” He said with a cheer, yanking his hand back suddenly, pulling you out of your physical form. Bill wasted no time taking over your body. He rose up with a delighted laugh, his hands running down your body, taking in the new but familiar feeling. “Wow!” He pressed your palms on your lower back, stretching out your back with a few gratifying pops. “It has been so long since I’ve possessed someone!” Cracking your fingers, he turned over to your floating form with an eerie smile. The world bleeds back into its colors and the soft tranquil sounds of the forest flooded your ears. “Funny how we switched places, huh?” 

You let out a shaky breath, your mind relentlessly battering you with words. How was this even possible? How could you be so foolish? You couldn’t even comprehend any of this. Bill moving around and using your body was terrifying. That was physically you and right now, he was joyously ramming your fist into the tree. You can see the skin on your knuckles rip and tear, blotchy patches of blood tainting the light bark. A light tingle of pain buzzed on your knuckles but it went away as quickly as it came.

“You’re so easy to injure! How weak are you?” He observes the damage eagerly, making your finger pinch on a frayed piece of skin. He twisted it and pulled it back, lightly chuckling to himself as he watched pearls of blood bead up from the now exposed skin. “Bill, stop!” Out of instinct, your hand went over to swat his arm away. A cold gust of wind flows through you as your hand phases right through yo–Bill. He stopped, plucking off the skin and flicking it aside.  “If you keep hurting yours–, I mean, me! They’re going to wonder what happened.”

“Not if I tell them that you got attacked!” He said in a sing-song voice, his eyes keenly looking around for anything else that’ll harm your body. “[Name]!” Stan’s voice rung in the air, pulling you and Bill from your thoughts. A sinister smile tug at Bill’s lips as an idea fills his head. Your stomach flips inside out. Discreet grunts and groans seized your attention and you whipped your head over to Bill climbing up a tree. “What are you doing!” Your hands fly to your hair, gripping it tightly. 

“Breaking the bones inside this meaty vessel, duh.” He hoists himself up on a thick branch. “Would a fall from this height kill you?” Bill ponders out loud, shakily standing up. “Are you seriously going to do this!” Your eyes darted from Bill sticking out your foot from under you to the direction where Stan’s voice could be heard. Bill lets your question float up in the air and with a child-like shout, he jumps off the branch, keeping your legs straight. You look away, unable to witness Bill carelessly treat your body like a toy. 

A stomach turning snap sounded in the air. “[Name]!” Stan’s distressed voice alerted you.

You whip your head around to see Stan cradling your body. Bile crawls up your throat upon seeing your twisted leg limply hang on the other side. “Sweetheart? What happened?” Stan’s words rushed out in a flurried frenzy. You slapped a palm to your mouth, anxiously awaiting for Bill to slip up and sell out his identity to Stan. “I don’t know…” You hear your very own voice leave your mouth. Bill’s agitating voice was nowhere to be heard. Vomit fills your mouth and you fight every muscle in your body to not spew it out. “I was just laying on the tree, not doing anything when something attacked me. I…” Bill allows a few tears to cascade down your face before continuing. “I thought I was going to die, Dad. I was so scared!” He dramatically sobs onto Stan’s sweater, purposefully grazing your shredded bleeding knuckle on his jacket. 

A gasp swelled in Stan’s chest. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I-I…” He harshly shuts his mouth closed, his pupils shrinking upon seeing your bloody knuckle. He was at fault for this, if he had never lied to you, if he would have just told you the truth from the start, you wouldn’t be so injured. Silently he carefully picked you up from the floor. To sprinkle a little more dramatics on the show Bill had out for you, he hissed out in faux pain, shooting your hand to your bent leg. Stan cringed, his eyes avoiding the general direction of your broken leg. “I’m sorry, baby.” He weakly muttered, his eyebrows pinched firmly in worry. 

Stan trekked through the thick foliage with your body curled in his arms. He dodged under branches that stuck out and sidestepped the stones that protruded from the ground. The entire walk was in silence, aside from the periodic sniffles coming from Stan and quiet hiccups. All you wanted to do at that moment was wrap him in a hug and tell him everything was going to be okay, but you weren’t even so sure of that yourself.

When Stan approaches the front door of the shack, a wave of conflicted emotion flickers through Bill’s eyes before he closes his eyes abruptly and goes slack in Stan’s arms. 

Stan chokes out a garbled yell for Ford. He heaves your body over his shoulder, twisting open the door with a slam and barging into the shack. “Stanley?!” Ford frantically ran over to Stan, his hands gesturing wildly at the sight before his eyes. “Th-They passed out in my arms! I don’t know what to do, Stanford!” 

You grapple at your face, desperate to make sense of what’s happening. You watch with a heavy heart when Mable and Dipper scramble to Stan’s side, troubled voices speaking over one another trying to understand what happened to you and to ask if you were dead. Their frantic cries and yells chaotically fill the silence in the shack. Ford yelled over their voices, instructing Stan to quickly settle you down on the couch so he could conduct a proper examination on your wounded body. All Stan could do is go along with his commands, mind hazy with borderline delirium as he stumbles towards the living room. 

“Dad,” you whisper, your fingertips grazing through him. You hold back the sob that scratched at your throat. This can’t be happening right now. 

Cracking an eye open to your direction, you can feel Bill’s sleazy smile draw on your face. Your stomach shrivels up in disgust at the sight. His yellow eyes gleamed under the dimly lit shack as he stared at you. Mable’s rushed steps drew Bill to close your eyes. “Grunkle Stan! Please tell me they’re okay!” Mable has the collar of her sweater pulled up to her mouth, her never ending stream of tears staining the sweater. “Mable. Give him some space.” Dipper murmured, holding Mable back as he tensely watched Stan lay you down. 

Ford eventually came in with a first aid kit. His appearance looked a little more disheveled than before. His hair was strewn about and ruffled, glasses crookedly sat atop of his nose and one of his sleeves was rolled up and cuffed while the other one was untouched. He sucked in a harsh breath upon seeing your split knuckles, dried blood crusted around the wounds and raw skin. The gashes reminded him of his own busted up knuckles when he was possessed by Bill. Alarm signs flared in his face but he batted them away, chalking it up to your injuries being caused by whatever animal had attacked you in the woods when you were alone. He treated the lacerations with antibodies and meticulously wrapped your hand in medical gauze. Gently placing your hand beside you, he looked over to your broken leg, holding a bated breath. Broken bones weren’t his favorite injury to heal since it takes extensive time off from anything physical and you having a broken leg at a time like this wasn’t ideal. He just needed to find ways to heal your leg quickly. 

“I need you all to leave the living room.” Ford clapped his hands together, dragging a hand down his fingers. “W-What, why?!” This was the first time Stan spoke in a while and it surprised Ford. Clearing his throat, he answered: “Because I can’t focus with your eyes hovering all over me. I-I need to think and if I’m going to treat their leg, I need you all to leave.” Against everyone’s wishes, Ford ushered them out,  leaving him alone to fully think about possible treatments he could have you undergo to heal your leg. 

You didn’t have a good feeling about leaving Bill alone with Ford. They had history with each other and having a past with someone like Bill doesn’t seem like a good thing. 

“Fordsy…” 

Ford’s body physically recoiled inwards at the familiar nickname. His head darted around the room, helplessly searching for the owner of the voice. He can’t be here can he? That voice just sounded so eerily similar to yours, but why would you call him Fordsy? Blood pumps in his ear drums, obstructing his hearing. 

“Sixeerrr.” His fingers curl around his arms. The light glow of horrifying unforgettable eyes glimmer in the corner of his eyes. He turns over to see you sat up on the couch, a smile stretched from ear to ear as Bill’s eyes shone into his. Ford’s blood ran cold, his mind swirling like a whirlwind. “Bill?” His heart pounds behind his rib cage. 

“The one and only, Sixer.” Hearing Bill’s voice crackle through your own instilled despair all over Ford’s body. Taking a wary step back, his shaky eyes watched as Bill threw your legs down the couch, your left eye flinching closed as pain shivered through Bill. He severely underestimated how much pain your leg would cause him. To fight against it, he slammed your leg on the floor. Pain jostled through him, a shuddering sigh blowing past your lips. The aching pain overtook your leg for a moment before it relented into a numbing buzzing feeling. “Much better!” He stands up, smiling broadly. 

Ford sucked in a stuttering breath, his eyes fleeting over to the hallway. “What do you want, Bill?” 

“I don’t know…” He rolled your head in thought. “Maybe the rift to the portal? It’s a crazy thing to ask, I know!” He laughs to himself. 

You wanted to bash your head on the wall. This was the reason why he made a deal with you. It was because of a stupid rift. You’ve only heard bits and pieces of the importance of the rift, but you knew it was serious business with how you heard Ford talk about it in passing. You need to find a way to stop Bill. 

Ford sneered. “Try all you want, Bill. But you’re not getting the portal.” Bill rolled your shoulders, earning a few noisy crackles of your bones. Ford tenses up, readying himself for the fight that’s about to pursue when Bill charges towards him, side stepping him at the last second and darting out of the living room. “Haha! I got you!” He teases, hissing out in pain when he applied too much pressure on your busted leg. “Stanley!” Ford yelled out, stumbling over his own feet as he ran after Bill. Hurried footsteps stomp down on the stairs, panicked talking and breaths littered the air. “[Name] is possessed by Bill!” A chorus of “WHAT?” echoes in the house. 

He skids to a stop in front of the open vending machine. Ford tugged on his hair, mumbling to himself in shock. How does he know the password? Wasting no time to dwell on that, he pads down the stairs. His stomach lurches forward when he notices Bill step inside the elevator, a snarky smile on your face as he turns around and waves at Ford. “Bill!” He launches himself forward, missing a few steps of the stairs and landing on the ground near the elevator. He trips over to the closing elevator, his fist slamming on the door as it shuts. 

“Ford, what is going on?” Stan pants out. Ford rapidly presses the elevator button, anxiously watching as the elevator dinged on down to the bottom. An idea passes through your head. Mumbling a self-motivating sentence Mable had showed you, you dived straight through the floor, phasing through the other two rooms and landing in the lab room. As stupid as it sounds, you’re going to repossess your body back.  

“Bill, he–he has [Name]!” Ford delivers a punch to the buttons, knocking the plate off its screws. Stan’s face contorts into a mixture of anger and concern. “He has what!? How the fuck does Bill have [Name], Ford!” Ford rested his forehead on the wall. “Now’s not the time to freak out, Stanley!”

Stan clenched his fists, grinding his teeth together. “It’s the perfect time to freak out, Stanford! Bill has my kid!” 

“Bill has [Name]?” Mable’s shrill reverberated through the empty staircase. “Kids, you can’t be here!” Ford warns, shooting out his hand to stop Mable and Dipper from getting any closer. “We want to help, Grunkle Ford.” Dipper sternly said. “That’s a funny joke, kid.” Stan chuffs out dryly, his attention snapping towards the elevator that was now rising up the shaft, dinging with each stop. “It’s not a joke!” Dipper dipped under Ford’s arm and stood in front of the elevator, Mable following in suit. “Stanley, do something!” Ford gestures to Mable and Dipper who are unmoving from their spot. Stan scoffs, dismissing him with a flick of his wrist. “They’re already here, Stanford. There’s no point in stoppin’ them now.” 

With a loud chime, the elevator pulls back its doors. The twins were the first to step inside, whispering to themselves as Ford and Stan walked in. Mable rushes over to the panel containing three buttons and using her tippy toes, she slams the last button with the palm of her hand. The elevator registers the destination with a slight rumble and shuts the door closed, leading them down to Ford’s lab. 

Ford could see Stan’s harsh breathing and clenched fists out the corner of his eye. Placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, he steels both him and Ford with: “We’re going to save them, Stanley.” Stan breathes out, teetering his head back with his eyes shut. “I hope you’re right about that.” 

The elevator quivers to a stop, the doors creakily pulling open. The four of them step out of the elevator and into the lab. “I was expecting it to be destroyed down here.” Dipper comments. 

Through the protective window, Ford could see Bill fighting with himself, your body laying limp for a few seconds before revving back up to life. He watches the cycle repeat for a few more times before shaking his head. “He’s outside.” He advises everyone. 

In a blink of an eye, Stan was already out into where Bill was, blowing countless angry questions at his face, his eyes shifting everywhere but at you. “Woah, woah, woah!” Bill took a cautious step back as he watched everyone circle around him, caught off guard with the sudden intrusion. “Don’t get your underwear in a twist, haha, am I right?” 

Pure and utter silence. 

Bill’s smile falters. “Okay, touch crowd!” 

“Cut the crap, Bill. Give me back my kid!” Stan grunts out. “I can let them talk to you! After all, they’re up here.” He taps the side of your head. “Stop messing around!” Ford takes a step toward Bill. “Don’t come any closer!” Your own voice filters through Bill’s interdimensional voice. Ford hesitates in his steps, sharing a cautionary glance with Stan. Shuffling your hand behind you, he pulls out the shimmering rift. “I will break this!” He threatens, flipping it upside down. 

Ford narrows his eyes at Bill. “You would’ve done so by now. What’s stopping you?” He motions Dipper and Mable to sneak past Bill and hide behind him, just in case he decides to do anything that’ll compromise the rift and you. “Nothing!” Bill strains out, trying to wiggle the rift out of your grasp. Ford takes notice of your white knuckles and connects two and two together. You’re somehow fighting against Bill for your body. “Fascinating…” 

“Aghh! Why can’t this stupid kid let go!” Bill grumbles, using your other hand to scrape at your clenched hand. He scratched and clawed until the skin on your hand was red and raw. “Is [Name] currently fighting against you?” Ford inquires, a delighted smile on his face. “W-What? No!” Bill plucks your pinky finger off the rift. “See! I’m in total–” Your body jerks forward, and for a slight second, your eyes glinted back, only for you to be propelled backwards. With a shake of your head, your eyes blink and Bill’s eyes are back on you. “[Name] is a fighter, that’s for sure!” He awkwardly laughs out, still regaining control over your body with how he waverly stumbled side to side. 

Taking advantage of his vulnerability, Ford sent a quiet signal to Mable and Dipper. The twins tackle Bill from behind. A startle yelp leaves his mouth as he falls forward. “Stanley the–” Stan was already swooping in and snatching the rift out of your hands in one swift motion. Bill's face planted on the floor. “This stupid weak body!” Bill whines out, having your hands buckled tightly to your back by Dipper and Mabel. “Get something to tie their arms together with!” Stan said, jogging back into the lab, discreetly hiding the rift away from Bil’’s prodding eyes.

“I was so close!” Bill pressed your face into the dirt. The sharp tiny stones cut into your cheek and all Bill could do is focus on the itching pain rather than the humiliating feeling of being pinned down by two twelve year olds. Ford grabs the rope and securely binds your wrists together. The twins finally shuffle away from your body, watching Bill struggle under the restraints. “I’m going to be traumatized by the end of this.” She lets out a dejected sigh. “I feel like nothing can phase me after this.” Dipper adds. 

“How are we going to get them back into their body?” Stan questioned Ford who was double checking the bindings on your wrist, making sure they weren’t too tight to burn your skin off but tight enough to keep Bill detained “I think I have an idea on how…” He breathes out, looking over to Stan, face full of unease. “But it might not work if everyone isn’t present.” 

Stan found himself staring dumbly at the diagram that Ford had etched into the dirt with a stick. “What is this?” Ford finished the final symbol within the diagram, discarding the stick behind him. “A zodiac diagram.” He says, dusting off his hands. “And what does this have to do with saving [Name]?” 

Ford spares a quick glance over to you. Mable and Dipper sat on each of your sides, keeping a careful eye on you as you alternated with yourself and Bill. Dipper’s face contorted into a painful expression whenever you’d jerk your head upwards, a random assortment of words spilling out of you before your head flies back down. That agonizing process continues for what feels like an eternity and he could clearly see the toll it’s taken on your body. Stan couldn't make himself  watch you suffer, biting his lip so hard blood builds up on his lip.

“Yes.” Ford curtly nods his head. “I had always hypothesized what this would be used for but It never occurred to me until now that it could be used like this.” 

Stan doesn’t like the slight sound of uncertainty in Ford’s tone. How could Ford be so sure that it works? “So, you’re telling me that you have never done this before?” 

“Pretty much, yeah.” He shrugs, pushing up his glasses that were sliding down his nose. “Don’t worry about whether it works or not. We don’t have time to think about what if’s.” Curiously eyeing the symbols on the floor, he pondered in his head. Who could possibly stand on what zodiac?

Mable had walked right next to Stan, she looked like she had something to say when her eyes fell on the diagram, her eyes shining. “That one reminds me of Wendy.” She points at the zodiac that was an ice bag. An idea dawned upon Ford. “Does it now?” He kneels down to Mable’s height. “Mable, dear. Can you look at these zodiac signs and tell me who they remind you of?” 

Mable was quick to point out and tell Ford each symbol that reminded her of a person. Jotting down all the names in his head, he began calling each and every one of them, stringing Mable along to help him convince them to come over to the Mystery Shack. One by one, they all started pooling in. Questions sprouted from one mouth to another and every single time, their questions received answers when their eyes landed on your struggling form.

“Okay, everyone stand in your respective spots and hold hands!” Ford’s voice was quiet in the distance. Stan had found himself kneeling in front of you, his expression unreadable but his eyes carried a deep sorrowful guilt to them. “Feeling guilty, Stanley?” Bill drawled out, pulling your heavy head up, only for it to be knocked down to the side. Your body was growing weak and Bill was tirelessly fighting against it. Unbeknownst to Stan, you were right next to him. Your unrelenting attempts to gain your body back had caused an aggressive strain on your body. You couldn’t stay in it without feeling utterly exhausted, allowing Bill to abuse your weak spot and take over your body. But that weak spot had also applied to him as well. You were trying to regain your breath before you’d try again. 

“Can it, Bill.” He scoops you up from the floor, walking towards the diagram. 

“You don’t have to do this!” Bill aggressively barked out, throwing himself around in Stan’s hold. “I do have to do this. You’re in my kid's body.” He grunted, throwing your body over his shoulder. “They made a deal with me! I won this body fair and square.” Bill argued, hammering your head down on Stan’s back. “Look, I just found out about you not too long ago. But for someone who was supposedly this all powerful demon, you pathetically really weak.” 

He approaches the diagram, setting your body down in the middle. “That’s because I haven’t revealed my true potential yet!” He struck the back of your head hard on the floor, causing your vision to go bleak for a moment. “Do you really need to do all of that?” You grumble, rubbing the back of your tender head. “I do what I please.” He mumbles to himself, rolling over on your stomach. 

Standing in his spot, Stan locked hands with Ford and Soos. “It’s most likely going to feel weird! Stick it through and don’t, I repeat, don’t let go!” A blinding blue light shoots up from the middle and travels through the lines of the diagram, illuminating the place in a bright blue light. 

“No!’ Bill writhed around. He could feel himself slipping away. Your forehead makes direct contact with a rock. He smiles at it, knocking your head against it again. “Oh, Billy! You are just full of ideas today.” He whispered, shuffling over to the stone to the point where he was hovering over it. He laid your head down, feeling the cold stone press against the middle of your forehead. Breathing in through clenched teeth, he raised your head up high. He nailed your head down on the rock, splitting through skin. You could feel the ghost touch of blood trickle down your forehead. 

He laughed crazily as he continued to bash your head onto the rock. With each blow, the rock was painted with more and more blood. He was going to kill you at this rate. Bill lowered his head back down on the rock and you shut your eyes closed. You weren’t going to see Bill crack your head open. But the blistering pain never registered, peeking your eyes open you saw Stan had caught your head in his hand. 

Ford yelled out Stan’s name but Stan ignored it. His chest rapidly heaved in and out as he fell to his knees, resting your dazed head on his lap. You had noticed that Bill was slipping out of your physical form. Darting over to him, you grabbed his hand and ripped him out. Before you could hear Bill’s flurry of cries, you dove right in, repossessing your body once again and hopefully for the last time. 

Grumbled groans escaped you as you regained all your senses. You jolted up in striking pain. Everything hurt, even more than the last you took over. Your stomach rumbled, a flood of whatever liquid shot up into your mouth. You leaned to the side, expelling the fluid. Peeling open your weary eyes, you felt yourself grow nauseous at the pool of blood in front of you. “[Name]!” Stan grabbed your face, directing it toward him. He looked at your eyes and a look of relief settled on his face. “Dad?” You groggily said, your whole world spinning. “Are you okay? Is that demon gone? Where is he?” The massive load of questions made you want to vomit all over again. 

I’m still here! Bill’s grating voice grinding against your brain. You crumble under Stan’s hold, your head thumping in pain “No. He’s still in my head.” You felt another rush of blood clamor up into your mouth. You meekly shove Stan’s hands away from your face, hurling another dump of blood. Cautious voices sounded all around you, your vision distorting in a blurry mess. “Dad?” You forcefully focused your eyes on Stan’s face. “I think there’s something wrong with me.” Talking was enough to strip you away from all the energy you had left and you weren’t sure you had enough time to say anything else before Bill took over again. 

“I know, baby. I know. We’re goin’ to get help, stay with me. Please.” Stan said something to Ford you couldn’t quite catch.

You felt his arms wrap around you and lay you down back on his lap. I’m going to kill you. You scratched at your aching head. “His voice hurts. Hearing it hurts so much.” You murmured, feeling a hand run down your arm up and down soothingly. “Stay strong for me, sweetheart.” A light kiss was pressed on your forehead. 

You cried out, feeling yourself being pulled away. 

“Stanley! Come back now!” You could make out Ford’s scream at Stan. The world was fading before you and you couldn’t help but break down as you heard Bill cackle in your head. Stan saw your eyes flicker to yellow and he delicately placed you down on the floor, running back to his spot. Bill seamlessly takes over, blinking himself awake as he’s shuffling your body up to your knees.

“This is all your fault, Stanley Pines. [Name]’s death will be on your hands!” He bellows, purposely allowing your voice to break through. The strenuous action causes him to tremble forward, blood splattering on the grass. Bill started yelling nonsensical blabbers, anything that would make Stan budge from his spot, to stop the whole process but he stayed put, directly staring Bill down. Bill fell to the side, coughing up bile and a random assortment of fluids. 

In a flash of blue, you feel yourself fully grounded back into your body. A feeling you feel like you haven’t felt in forever. 

A grinding yell echoed in your head. You are so disgustingly weak! Bill screamed in your head. Another splitting headache bore into your head but all you could do is lay there and take it in, feeling so worn-out and droopy that you weren’t able to physically react. I didn’t do much and you’re dying! I did all of this for nothing, for nothing! And it is all your fault! I should’ve broken every single bone in your body and twisted your neck. At least I would’ve gained something from that! You are so useless! 

He was wreaking havoc in your mind. The blinding pain subsided to a lingering pain, black dots swarming your vision. He seems to be doing last minute damage before he’s left with no other choice but to leave your body. With a rugged distorted babble from Bill, your whole world went dark. 

The waiting room was cold, so numbingly cold. Stan casted his gaze down to his hands. Your blood had stained them. He couldn’t tell if it was the blood from your forehead, or the blood you vomited out. But your own blood had been smeared all over him and it made him sick to his stomach. He couldn’t erase the image of your cold limp body laying on the grass, face covered in streaks of blood. This was all his fault. If he had just told you how things were from the start, this wouldn’t have happened. You would’ve been next to him, chattering his ear off about something irrelevant while asking him multiple times if he was listening to you. Despite his thoughts, your soothing presence wasn’t there to console his mourning heart. 

Your doctor had came in earlier to share the state that your body was in. Everyone listened intently to her words as she described the damage that Bill had caused to your body. She said doctors were so mortified with your condition, labeling it as one they have never seen before with how many injuries you sustained on the outside and inside. Stan and Ford had to dodge some questions that had the doctor fired at them, excusing your evenstive wounds with a slip off a mountain, silly teenage activities that almost cost you your own life. She didn’t buy it. 

The doctor's slight graphic description of your injuries only cemented the guilt deeper into Stan. He was a bad father wasn’t it? The only thing he prided himself in for doing right was so easily taken away from him in a blink of an eye. He really was a screw up. Ford and his Dad were right. 

“Stanley.” Ford’s hand on his shoulder withdrew him from his thoughts. “We need to go home. It’s late.” He looks briefly to the seat next to him. The twins had sat on the same seat, their muddled expressions were no longer on their face, instead they were sleeping peacefully, heads leaning against each other. “The twins are asleep.” He tells him. Stan’s gaze glued on his tainted hands. “I’m staying here.” He weakly said. “You need sleep, Stanley.” 

“I can sleep here, Ford.” He snapped, expression tight. “They are going to kick you out.” 

Stan shrugged, clasping his hands together. “Then they’d hafta kick me out then.” 

“I’m not leaving you here.” 

Stan leaned his head back against the wall, huffing out. “I’m not in any mood to fight with you here.” Taking off his glasses, he rubbed his burning eyes. “I’m staying here and there’s nothin’ you can do about it.” He placed his glasses on his lap and crossed his arms, closing his eyes as he shifted around to get comfortable enough to sleep. “Always been so stubborn.” Ford shook his head, getting up from the seat with a light groan. “I’m leaving.” He picks up the slumbering twins, being extra careful to not jostle them around and wake them. Stan grumbled in response, hearing Ford’s footsteps fade away in the distance. 

Stan doesn’t know how long it’s been, all he knows is that he had fallen asleep with the way his neck was sore. “Sir?” A voice broke through his drowsiness. “Sir?” They call out again. “Hm, wha?” Stan peeled open his eyes, the glaring hospital lights momentarily blinded him. Covering his eyes with his palm, he squinted at the lady in front of him. “What’s goin’ on?” 

“We’re closing up for the night, sir. I need you to leave.” She calmly said, offering a soft smile to Stan. “But my kid, they’re in here. I need to be here if anything happens.” He scrambles to put his glasses on. “I assure you sir, whoever your kid is, will be fine. We will keep a lookout if anything happens.” 

“How are you guys goin’ to keep a lookout when you’re all home sleeping away like there isn’t people dying in here!” Stan argued. “Now's not the time, sir. I need you to leave or you’d be personally escorted out by the guards.” Stan sighed, standing up from his chair. “You don’t have to do all that.” He mutters, cracking his back before walking out. Walking out into the summer night, he pulled out his phone to check the time. 

11 P.M. it read. It looked like the doctors allowed him to stay overtime. Usually they’d kick people out of the waiting rooms by around 9 P.M.

His eyes freeze at the baby picture of you on his lockscreen. The photo was taken on your fourth birthday. Stan had gone all out, as he always did, and got you a little birthday hat, little cupcake with a candle that had your age on it, and a mess of confetti and other birthday assortments. You had such a large smile on your face as you were mid bite into your cupcake. He remembered the day so vividly as if it happened yesterday. He clenched his phone tightly, tears flooding his vision. Why did it have to be you? Running his arm roughly over his eyes, he sniffed. He shoved his phone back into his pockets and started walking back to the shack. 

Ford found himself being startled awake by a knock on the door. Sluggishly getting up from the couch, he walked over to the gift shop entrance. He opened the door to be pleasantly surprised to see Stan. He stepped aside, letting Stan walk in. “Kicked you out?” 

“Yup.” Stan accentuating the ‘p’.

“Told you.” 

A quick moment of silence takes over before Stan breaks it. “Is this all my fault?” 

“You were just trying to protect them.” Ford walks over to Stan, shoving his hands under his armpits. “Look where that got ‘em.” Stan cracked his thumb, whispering something to himself before timidly looking at Ford. “Do ya think you can stay with me tonight?” He sheepishly scratches his cheek. “I don’t think I can trust myself bein’ alone or whatever.” 

Ford earnestly smiled at him. “I don’t mind.” Stan nods. “You sleep on the floor though.” 

Stan’s phone loudly rattled on his nightstand, his ringtone noisily blaring its song. “Turn it off!” Ford cried out, folding his pillow over his head. Stan arose from his abundance of blankets and grabbed his phone, dragging it off the nightstand. He squinted at the screen, trying to make sense of the blurry text. Stan reached out for his glasses, shoving them on his face and directing his eyes back on the screen. The word hospital flashed on his face. 

“It’s the hospital!” He swiped his finger, answering the call. He put his phone to his ear and anxiously waited. “Stanley Pines?” A snotty voice spoke from the phone. “Yes!” He clears his throat. “Yes, yes. That’s me. Why’re you callin’?” 

“[Name] has woken up and…” Stan had blocked everything else she said and shut up from the bed. “They’re awake!” He announced, shedding off his blankets and launching off his bed, accidentally stepping on Ford in the process. The whole morning was spent dashing around the house, vigorously getting dressed and making sure everyone was ready to head over to the hospital. After Ford’s triple check, they all clamored inside in the car and drove to the hospital. 

Stan burst into your room, his eyes locking with your bandaged form. “Dad!” You weakly called out, a shaky smile on your face. “Pumpkin!” He sighed out, relieved at seeing your beautiful smile. He wraps you in his arms, burying his face into your hair as he sobs. “I thought..I thought–!” He blubbers out. More welcoming arms wrap around you, wailing wracking through the air. “[Name]!!” Mable dragged out. “Don’t scare us like that ever again.” Dipper sniffed, scrubbing his eyes clear of tears. “Welcome back, kid.” Ford plants a kiss on the top of your head. 

“I’m here guys, you don’t have to worry so much.” You laugh, Stan wiping your tears with his thumb. “How can we not? We almost lost you, pumpkin.” After a tearful reunion, everyone stepped back, allowing you to breathe. They only gave you a few more minutes to yourself before they bombarded you with apologies. Mable and Dipper were stuck to your side, each of them giving you their own version of puppy eyes. Mable was more into it than Dipper, but you still accepted their apologies with a big hug.

“I’m sorry too, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have lied to you. I should have been honest from the get go.” You took Stan’s hand, patting it like you would a dog. “It’s okay, Dad. I forgave you long ago. I should have followed what Ford said and calmed down.” You slightly glare at Ford. “Though, I didn’t like how he said it to me at the same time, so maybe I am justified in my anger?” 

“Ford doesn’t know how to talk. What’s new?” Stan knocked his shoulder with Ford who rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I’m the butt of the joke. As always.” 

“If it isn’t you! Then it would be Dipper,” Mable pokes at him. “But me and Grunkle Stan told all the jokes possible so it isn’t as funny as making fun of you, Grunkle Ford! You’re so nerdy and losery, more than Dipper. And that isn’t a good thing.” 

A crackly laugh leaves Stan. “Thanks for explaining, dear.” Ford said with a strain, his smile wavering. “Someone one upped you, Dipper.” You chuckle. “I don’t know if I should revel in it or feel sad for Ford.” Dipper tapped his finger on his chin. “Don’t overthink it, dude.” You flick his forehead. 

“And Grunkle Ford, where is your apology?” Mable raised her chin up high, doing her best attempt of a haughty queen looking down at her jester. Ford scoffs, “I’m so sorry, your humble majesty.” Dipping his head low to mimic a bow. 

“Oh?” You and Mable share a bewildered expression. “I wasn’t expecting him to actually do it.” You look over to Dipper who had an uncomfortable expression on his face. “I don’t like what’s going on here.” 

“Wait, are you going to have a cool scar on your forehead now?” Mable questions, pointing at your bandaged forehead. Bumbling conversation fills the air, laughter occasionally humming here and there. In the end, they all had to leave for your routine check up by the doctors. Stan was the last one to bid goodbye to you. Kissing your forehead, he held onto your hand, his eyes glistening with tears. 

“I love you so much, kiddo. If I had lost you back there, I dunno what would have happened to me.” He caresses his thumb against your hand. “Don’t say stuff like that, Dad. I’m here, that’s what counts.” 

You share a long hug together, with a few tears being shed.

“I know, I know.” Giving you one last kiss and embrace, he waves you goodbye. 

“I love you!” 

“I love you more, Dad!” 

Taglist: @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @lovexsage, @teddycricketdream, @theilluminatidragonqueen, @raventeen @cedarmoonzz, @katharine3000

dm or comment if you want to be added/removed :3

[oatmealdaydreams]

Y'all wanted the lore, so here ya go!

@localcanadiancreature62 tagged as requested

These are both variations of the Timestuck AU, so keep that in mind. Made these two AUs yesterday in the same hour of each other because I have brainrot and there's this really good timestuck fic I've been reading that got my brain rolling (Stan Overboard by itS_JuSt_a_thought on ao3).

Teen Dreams AU

Teen Ford ends up in 2013 with old Stan. Old Ford ends up with teen Stan in the early 1970s. The teen twins are from about a year after the science fair incident; so, teen Stan is a year into being homeless & teen Ford is a year into being in Backupsmore. No one knows how the fuck the Fords swapped places in time, but they need to get them back to their own timelines. This is all about two weeks before their birthday. Old Stan gets to see how teen Ford genuinely missed him back then. Old Ford gets a little glimpse of how teen Stan's situation was for him (this is during Stan's salesman days, think around the time he got banned from New Jersey and is heading to Pennsylvania). Teen Stan learns how much Ford cares about him and is protective of him, and he learns how to let someone else take care of him for a change. Teen Ford learns how much Stan truly cares about him and never meant to actually hurt him, which helps makes his grudge look pretty stupid in the long-run. Might have some 13 yrs old Dipper & Mabel help out in 2013. Would be interesting for teen Ford is get to know his future twin niblings & also talk about them to teen Stan when he gets back to his own timeline. PLENTY of moving parts via angst and hurt/comfort and the idea of Stan & Ford's inner-teen getting healed a bit.

Teenage Challenges AU [may change the name later, idk]

This one is the longer thought-out au, so buckle in! 13 yrs old Mabel and Dipper end up back in time with teen Stan Twins. Early 1970s an entire year after the science fair incident & Stan getting kicked out. Dipper ends up with Stan, and Mabel ends up with Ford & college Fiddleford. Fiddleford is about a year older than Ford because I say so. Their dymanics with their future niblings are more like older siblings and younger siblings than uncles and nibling because of being closer in age. Reminder that everyone is still in their teen years. The young Stan twins are between 18-19, and Fiddleford is about 19-20. So, in this context, there's like a 5-6 year age difference between the Stan twins & Mabel and Dipper. ANYWAY: Stan thinks Dipper is some homeless kid and he can't just leave him on the street in the cold, especially not when he kinda reminds him of his brother. Dipper mentions just wanting to get back to his twin sister, and well that's hits Stan's heart because that sounds a bit like himself in regard to loyalty to family. On the other side of things, Mabel has this very broken Time Tape she needs to fix to get back home. She mentions needing to find her twin brother, and with the fact that she reminds Ford of his time's Stan, well he's conflicted with feelings but he does his best to help her anyway. Fiddleford and Mabel get along quite well, especially when Mabel suggests a few ideas for his death bots that he "may never use but keeps the blueprints for because he may snap one day" & Fiddleford thinks her ideas are genius. Ford starts to see a little of himself in Mabel with her optimistic outlook when it comes to discovery and circumstances. She's also pretty good at certain math stuff and Ford admires her intellect. There's so much more with this, but this is so long already.

There, it's a post now. Have fun! And if anyone wants to write something or draw something for these, feel free to do so! All I ask is that you tag me 'cause I wanna see it :D

[cravingpepsimax]

regarding my stancest fankid i’ve renamed him (his name’s sylvan now instead of simon) and i’ve done a personality overhaul. even tho i wanna keep stuff as surprises i do wanna talk some about his New And Improved personality

sylvan is a nervous wreck. he’s kind of like a deer — he’ll jump and hide away at the slightest noise that might mean danger but would also just stand in front of a car running towards him like 🧍‍♂️

…BUT he’s also the kind of person that does whatever he wants. and you might wonder how these two ideas are compatible, but it’s really fairly simple.

sylvan doesn’t want to get in trouble at all. but sylvan is also very determined. so, he sneaks. a lot. you’ll tell him to do something, and he’ll go “ok” while plotting a million different ways to not do that thing.

what certainly doesn’t help is that sylvan finds comfort in knowing. if he gets even a WHIFF of a secret he is going to put all his energy into finding out what that secret is.

interestingly, i think ford would be the more overprotective one. stan knows that kids need to be kids to develop, and, sure, sylvan’s persistence can be annoying, but it’s better than him being scared all the time. ford, on the other hand? ford often ends up reducing people to archetypes, including those closest to him — not necessarily on purpose, it’s just how he thinks. and i wouldn’t be surprised if, with sylvan’s deerlike anxiety + ford’s paternal instincts, ford would see sylvan as The Victim. someone he has to Protect. it’s not because he sees sylvan as lesser, quite the opposite — that’s his son. he wants his son to be safe.

this causes what i’m calling a Mental Illness Feedback Loop where ford hides stuff from sylvan because it’s dangerous and he doesn’t want sylvan to get hurt, sylvan finds out that ford’s hiding something, he spends a bunch of time trying to figure out what ford’s doing, ford spends a bunch of time trying to hide it better, sylvan eventually figures it out, ford learns how he figured it out and learns how to hide it even better

although this initially wasn’t a game, i think that it’s sort of become a form of enrichment for both, and — even when ford realizes “oh wait hold on nope i’m doing the ‘thinking fictional archetypes apply to real people’ thing again” — they’d still do it. they’re smart people that like cracking codes and getting answers, including the chase to get those answers. it’s like a puzzle for both of them!

as their secret-hiding-and-finding gets more intense and game-y, stan gets more confused. he finds ford late in the night working on a cipher that he’s SURE sylvan won’t be able to crack. stan is even more baffled than when he overhears their ddamd games. he is surrounded by NERDS

[artists-who-rarely-draws]

Calling Gravity falls artists!

Firstly, I love you all your art is so scrumptious mwah mwah mwah mwah!!.

Okay now to the casting call?? Listing?? Idk the term BUT! I am in the process of scripting out and designing a 80s Stan pines Dating SIM bwah bwah!

I'm planning to do the sprite work as I'm pretty good at replicating the gravity falls style.

But! For CGS, the Game Cover(?) (and / or backgrounds, maybe still deciding), I'm hoping to find an art style with a bit more - Pizzaz!!!!

**I am more than willing to pay! Your art is beautiful, and you deserve to be compensated!!!!**

Now some details about what it would look like:

- I will come to you for a few different cgs for both a Ford and Stan route in a stretched out period of time (meaning not all of once, not only because I don't want to overwhelm, but so that I can fully decide on a scene make sure it's fully what I want before coming to you for the CG for it, I don't want to think I know what I want then fully change my mind and then ya know this CG your either working on or finished now doesn't apply)

-We can talk through DM's , email (Tho my email rarely gives me notifications, so if I respond late, I'm sorry), Discord. Wherever makes you the most comfortable, artwork probably should be shared through either Drive or Email, though since Dependant on Size, most sites will kind of crunch them.

-You will receive FULL credit!!! This one feels like a given, but the internet is wild, and I've seen this misconception happen. Just because I'm paying for your art doesn't mean you don't also get credit. Credit your commissioners' kids.

-You get to set the price on your own art! Far be it from me to tell *you* what your time and effort is worth.

-communication is very important, I do work full time, but if I'm free and you need to talk to me, I'm more than open! If I don't get back to you within a day or so, feel free to give me a friendly little reminder that the notification has been lost.

-I will provide reference sheets that don't follow the canon (like other outfits or hair styles or whatever)

- as part of talking out each piece, I'd like a quote on price and a rough?? Idea?? On when it may be completed (Note: that is not like a strict deadline or anything. I understand things happen! Like i said, just pop me a message saying it can't be finished by 'blank', maybe 'blank' or just that you don't know! I won't bite! I'm an artist! I get it!

And I think that's about all of Note at the moment? If you have any more questions feel free to ask them!

If you'd be willing to be my CG artist please send me a DM with some gravity falls art examples, your rough prices (which again I understand will change from piece to piece buy just like a idea of how your prices for scenes normally are) and your prefrence for how we would communicate about the game ^^.

Thank you very much for reading! And again I love your art so much! Mwah mwah!

(Note, game might get it's own blog once I fully decide on a title, right now im thinking 'The Diners Call' but idk for sure)

[eregyrn-falls]

Organizing a Stan Twins-centric Multi-Artist Lyric Comic!

There's a song I've always wanted to see as an AMV or a lyric comic for the Stan Twins, and years pass, and I've never been able to tackle a project that big. So, I wanted to try to organize it as a multi-artist lyric comic!

The song is "Trouble", by Avicii. (See below.)

What is a multi-artist lyric comic? One where people sign up, and each artist is assigned a line from the song. Artists will then do 1 page for their line, and at the end, it's all put together. Here is an example from GF fandom in 2018. (Here is a video version that someone put together with the music.)

This song has 28 lines of lyrics, but it also has some instrumental breaks, and I've thought of a way to fill those that would allow more people to participate (particularly if someone was unsure if they could take on a full page).

Here's the song:

There's a lot of details to go into, so to keep this post from taking up too much dash real estate, I'm going to put more detail below a read-more.

Here is a link to a Google form you can fill out to indicate interest. (But we do urge you to read over the details below!)

The goal would be to complete this in time to make it public on August 31st or Sept. 1st, 2023 -- in line with the actual last days in-story of the show. Therefore, the due date for final art will likely be around August 15th or 20th.

I hope folks will find this intriguing! I think it could be a lot of fun!

@mercury-falls and I are the point-people for this, at the moment!

All right -- the way I've always seen it, the first verse of the song is very Stan-related, and the second verse is very Ford related.

Here is a Google Doc with the lyrics.

My idea for the instrumental breaks was to have people contribute smaller pieces of art that look a bit like Polaroid snapshots. If we can get the lyric comic combined with the music, think of the collection of Polaroids accumulating the way they do at the end of the show's opening credits.

There are two main ways artists can contribute to the project:

For lyrics, full landscape illustrations (which include color, lettering, and a background)

For instrumental breaks, polaroid-style illustrations (smaller, simpler pieces in square format). We will use these in a video edit of the comic and have them accumulate like the show’s intro during the breaks. (We will also figure out a good way to display them in the lyric-comic post itself.)

Your art should be canon-compliant, and can depict any time period of the Stans’ lives (past, present, and near-future)! Do with your art as you best see fit with your lyrics, but keep the focus on the Stans and their relationships with each other and other GF characters. Both original content and screenshot adaptations are welcome!

We also welcome collaborations between artists on full pages! We encourage every artist in the project to help and support each other if they are comfortable. On the interest form, you can tell us if you are interested in volunteering to help others with inking, coloring, or creating backgrounds! Or, you can tell us if you think you will need help.

On the form, you can indicate your preference towards the Stan or Ford verses. But once we have the team of artists doing lyrics chosen, we will randomize the list and then contact people in order, to ask about preferences for lyrics. If you aren't chosen for one of the full pages, we would still like to have you involved for the Polaroids! (And you can indicate willingness to be called on to do a page if others drop out.)

We will have check-in dates through the summer, with goals for people to report on the subject of their piece; to have a sketch or layout ready to show; and to show progress closer to the end.

We will be setting up a Discord server to help share information, and to allow people to post WIPs or just generally discuss things, and keep motivation going. If you really don't use Discord, though, and don't want to sign up for it, that's okay. We will put whatever instructions and details we have in a Google Doc, and will share that link for reference. And we can always communicate via email.

I (Eregyrn speaking!) have been involved in a LOT of fan projects over the years. One of the key things to ask of people who sign up for a project is: communication. That is, if you're having difficulties, just let us know! If you need to drop out, just let us know! Don't feel guilty that you signed up and then had to drop out. The thing that is hardest on organizers of projects like this is when people sign up, but disappear and don't answer DMs or emails. Believe me, I've been in that position where you feel guilty and don't want to admit that you have to drop out -- but it's always much easier on the organizers if you just let them know, instead of keeping them guessing! This is just something to keep in mind when you're signing up -- life happens! It's okay! But please try to let us know if something comes up and you have to bow out.

Here is the link to the Google Form, that you can fill out to indicate interest.

[awesome-normal-heroes]

Why Dipper is so loved, while Mabel is a broken base...

I'm not the biggest Mabel fan, but even I believe that all the hate that Mabel sometimes gets is too much...

Why do almost half of the fans get angry at a little girl, while praising a little boy?

Well, we're gonna find out!

*You see during the beginning of Gravity Falls, we get the idea that Mabel is supposed to be the optimistic heart of the duo, while Dipper is the cynical brain of the team.

*And for a while it was like that, but then came the episode of Mabel teaming up with Grunkle Stan to laugh at Dipper's lack of manliness.

*Which was the first of a bunch of episodes where Mabel (sometimes with Stan) treating Dipper somewhat unfairly.

*Teaming up with Stan to make fun of Dipper for being slightly shorter than her, not trying to help Dipper create a plan that will allow her to keep Waddles and prevent Dipper from accidentally giving Wendy a black eye, taking a picture of Dipper giving reverse CPR to Mabel's mermaid boyfriend to use for blackmail later, laughing at Bill shooting a hole through her brother (I know it's a dream, but still...), getting angry at Dipper for refusing to help Stan (cause Dipper believed that Stan hates him; Mabel could've at least been more sympathetic before going to help Stan)... almost giving away Dipper's journal to Bill (to impress a guy with her play), choosing to trust Stan over her brother (even though the portal could destroy the universe), then afterwards refuses to play his board game and even makes fun of it with Stan (which results in Dipper spending time with Ford), getting jealous that Dipper is spending more time with Ford then with her (which she caused), proceeds to make fun of Dipper again when he calmly calls her out on her teasing, she feels guilty but doesn't give a proper apology (something that even Stan does), gets upset at Dipper for wanting to become Ford's apprentice and stay at Gravity Falls, willingly gives Bill the device that almost ends the world and nobody finds out about it (I know she was tricked but still), refuses to leave her giant bubble until Dipper finally agrees to come home with her and creates a radical brother that would have a 'more supportive attitude'.

*I personally think that Mabel did the right thing by trusting Stan in the end, so Ford could be rescued... the portal still could've destroyed the universe, if Stan had miscalculated something.

*I'm also angrier at Stan for the mocking Dipper times, cause Mabel was a child and children don't know better sometimes, but Stan is an adult and he knows what it's like to be made fun of and yet he still does it to Dipper... no wonder Dipper briefly believed that Stan hated him... and no wonder Ford quickly became Dipper's Favorite Grunkle.

*As for accidentally almost starting the apocalypse, I don't completely blame Mabel for what happened, but the other characters deserved to know the truth and I'm surprised that Bill didn't tell them to cause drama.

*When all these things are stacked together, it's not a pretty picture.

While in comparison to Dipper, the brother is actually already quite supportive:

*Saves Mabel from gnomes despite Mabel yelling at him, he was willing to break up with Gideon for Mabel, he gave up his chance to be with Wendy twice to make Mabel happy, he doesn't make fun of Mabel's flaws, he comforts Mabel when she's sad, he helps Mabel whenever she asks for it (even when he doesn't like the thing that they're doing), he's always forgiving with Mabel, he's viciously protective of Mabel and gave up being Ford's apprentice to make Mabel happy.

*So, yeah the twins do have a bit of an all take, no give relationship... the writers could've handled it a little bit better.

*It doesn't help that Mabel technically does get called out on how she treats Dipper in Season 2, but the people that call her out are the Main Villain and a jerky unicorn, who are seen as in the wrong (but even the villains can make decent points sometimes)... Mabel had a chance to get proper character development and become a better sister after saving Dipper from Bill's possession... but Mabel doesn't really grow much as a person, not even during the finale... she's almost the same as she was during Season 1.

*Meanwhile with Dipper, he slowly becomes less cynical and socially awkward as well as braver and more kind-hearted over the course of the show... he even handled the fact that Wendy wants to simply remain friends beautifully... he still has a crush, but he respects her wishes.

*In contrast to Mabel, who keeps falling in love with guys and trying to force a romance, instead of letting it happen naturally or realizing that she doesn't need a boy to be happy... she also uses a love potion on Robbie and another girl to basically force them to get together and this is later seen as an okay thing (when Robbie hypnotizing Wendy with romantic music was seen as wrong).

*Even Stan and Ford go through a bit more character development then Mabel does.

*I think that's what truly bothers the fans... Dipper goes through character development, learns some lessons and slowly becomes a better person... while Mabel remains the same.

*Mabel isn't a horrible person... she's a fun, creative and energetic girl... but she wouldn't exactly be winning any 'Sister of the Year' Awards either.

*It's disappointing, because Mabel's character had so much potential... and the writers make her repeat the same mistakes... if they did handle Mabel's character better, she'd probably be almost as loved as Dipper.

[minijenn]

Fuck it time for random assorted UF ideas I had that I think are pretty neat/interesting/fun and I never got aruond to writing:

Mindful Education would have had angst for all four of our MK; Steven still reeling from Jasper, Bismuth, Rose shattering Pink Diamond, etc. Dipper is still going through it from what Bill did to Stepper in RMD, Connie is upset cause she broke that kid's arm i guess, and Mabel is feelin hella awkward bc she would have only recently accidentally revealed how she feels about Steven to him

Tied into that ^^^ we get the lyrics of Here Comes a Though tying in nicely to how each of them are feeling: "Here comes a thought that might alarm you" (Connie), What someone said and how it harmed you (Steven), Something you did that failed to be charming (Mabel), Things that you said are suddenly swarming (Dipper).

Mindful Education would have also featured appearences from every one of the MK fusions, including Stonipbel's debut! (Ok I'm done talking about Mindful Education now I promise)

The chapter Time Tangled would have essentially been a UF take on the old GF Timestuck AU. So Steven, Dipper, and Mabel would have accidentally wound up 30 years in the past, split up, with Mabel ending up with Stan back then as he's on his way to Gravity Falls, Dipper with Ford in the midst of his peak paranoia, and Steven with Rose during her peak Immense Concern About Ford. Angst ensues.

Weirdmageddon, if I were to write it now, would have a lot going on in it. Yellow and a bunch of Homeworld Gems were gonna roll in along with Bill and hiis Henchmaniacs and it was basically gonna be chaos all around.

After wandering alone as in canon during the apocalypse, Dipper would have eventually ran into Lapis, because of course; he was gonna kind of have a fear driven breakdown bc he has no idea where the hell Mabel or Steven or anyone else is and he's terrified for their lives and Lapis would have comforted him with an original lullaby bc she's his Mom we all already know this

You better believe, after meeting Gideon and hearing about all the trouble he'd caused Dipper earlier that summer, Lapis would have T posed on that 10 year old so agressively imo

She would have also joined Dipper, Soos, and Wendy in venturing into Mabel's bubble, as would have Pearl who would have joined the group at some point; one of the original things inside of the bubble would have been a fake version of Steven who's head over heels for Mabel, finally returning her affections; Pearl would have been the one to talk Mabel down from that, with the two of them sharing solidarity over being in love with someone they knew they couldn't end up having

Some of the more secondary and minor characters would have had a chance to shine thanks to Amethyst, who gathered up a group of them (consisting of Pacifica, Robbie, Lars, Sadie, Greg, maybe a few others?) and escorted them to the safety of the bunker; there, they would have found McGucket, who's been hiding out from the shitstorm outside

In the bunker, they'd all split up, and Pacifica would have found "Dipper" (the shapeshifter) frozen in one of the cryogenic pods so of course she sets him free and "he" tricks her in a gambit to escape the bunker; Amethyst sees through its ruse and fuckin obliterates that thing all over again good for her

Steven would have been captured by Yellow's forces around the same time Ford was captured by Bill (Dipper watches this happen and is unable to stop it hahaha oh no); Garnet and Connie would have teamed up to save him and Peridot would have joined them, essentially pretending to defect back to Homeworld to slip in closer to find Steven

My original plan was for Steven to actually be poofed and meet Rose inside his Gem but now that we know that's not how it works, I would have just had Connie rescue him and all of the MK and Gems regroup at the shack I suppose

There would have been a musical chapter during Weirdmageddon ala Mr. Greg. That's right, a whole chapter of original songs written by me. Fucking suffer.

My original plan was for the Gem temple to be destroyed during Weirdmageddon, thus unleashing all of the bubbled Gems inside of it, including Bismuth and Jasper (who would have somehow wound up uncorrupted idk how)

We would have gotten a lot of fusions showing up again during the big climax battle, with Stonipbel taking center stage in a fight against Yellow Diamond (set to a dramatic dueling duet); this fight would have ened with Yellow being poofed and her forces grabbing her gem and fleeing back to Homeworld

Bill would have split Stonipbel up and nearly killed all four of them until Stan pulls the same trick he does in canon and turns the tables on that fucking triangle, "killing" him (not really cause he returns in UF2 but shhhh)

You'd best believe Amethyst would have had a fucking meltdown when she finds out Stan's memories are gone and he has no idea who she is; it would probs also strike a strong cord with Steven and Dipper, reminding them of the time when Stepper went through something pretty damn similar

I would have dedicated more time to Stan getting his memories back, mostly fluffy, sweet moments building into it

With the temple destroyed and so many corrupted Gems on the lose, Steven and the Gems made plans to leave Gravity Falls to round them all up. With the warp pad also broken, they would have all gone with Greg in his van. That's basically what they'd be doing in the span of time between UF and UF2.

The epilogue would have leaned heavily into MK fluff and bonding, the four of them promising to return to Gravity Falls next summer, I would have absolutely cried while writing it.

Along with Steven, Connie, and the Gems, Lapis and Peridot would def be at the bus stop to see Dipper and Mabel off; there would be just... so many tears all around esp between the MK god

I would have included two scenes in the epilogue, one hinting at Bill retuning in UF2 and one of Yellow reforming on her ship and coming up with her Human Biowepons Operation which would eventually lead into UF2's Stonemason arc

And that's all I got maybe I'll do these for UF2 and UFF as well idk

[youcantkillanidea]

hmmm okay here's my rambles. idk I might turn this into a fic at some point but it's more likely that if anything I just do some art and maybe some oneshots every now and then lol. But I wanted to talk about the portal fidds concept because I'm very attached.

Basically the idea is that, during the portal test, Fiddleford falls into the portal completely instead of just his head poking in and the rope isn't there for Ford to just pull him back out. Fidds gets stuck outside of their dimension, and now Ford not only has to deal with a world ending portal and demonic possessions but also the guilt of convincing his friend to help build and test the portal that would ultimately lead to this. More thoughts below the cut

There's a few reasons, I think, as to why Ford wouldn't just immediately reopen the portal to try to save Fiddleford. For one, it might end the world of course- I don't know that that alone would be enough deterrent here, but it'd probably make a big impact. For another thing, if he had to go in after Fidds to save him, he could get stuck too, and then there'd be no one around to disassemble the portal and make sure Bill didn't end the world.

I think maybe he'd still call Stanley, but when they met up Ford's plan would instead be "I need to go into the portal to save my friend, you need to be around to disassemble it in case we don't come back, and also hide my journal" and this could still pick at old wounds with like- Stan's not the one being told to leave immediately, but Ford is leaving him immediately it's like. Oh okay so you're going on the adventure of a lifetime without me. Obviously he wouldn't agree to it but I don't think there’s be the same "pushing him in" situation. I don't know where I'd take it from here tbh! I'm just kinda brainstorming- maybe they'd go in the portal on a rescue mission together and it could turn into a mystery trio thing?

I've thought more about portal Fidds. He wouldn't have the memory gun with him so that wouldn't be a problem anymore. But now there's a more physical barrier between him and his family and friends instead of a mental one, and he'd probably really miss them all. He's still angry at Ford probably but there's a lot going on and he has a lot of feelings and he's probably thinking about things a lot more without immediately wiping his memory so there's more nuance.

Fidds needs weapons for self defence out there of course and I've thought about that too. Making robots seems to be a specialty of his and he could definitely still find some use for them out there but I don't know how convenient or portable those would be as weapons. He mentions in Legend of the Gobblewonker that he's building a death ray, and I can imagine him doing something similar here as a weapon! Though he could also just use a gun lol

I don't own a copy of Journal 3 and haven't actually read it, so everything I know from it comes from little bits I've heard or seen from other people, it's very limited. So I don't know much about the other dimensions tbh! I'd have to look into it more if I wanted to actually write something. If Fidds can find a banjo or similar instrument out there though I like to think he'd take comfort in that :))

Idk if Bill would be after Fidds really? Like, chasing him down or anything I mean? I don't think he'd care that much? But Fidds is a great way of guilting Ford into reopening the portal for sure! And fuck man it works! As long as they can close the portal right away it shouldn't cause Weirdmaggeddon though? Because like, nothing like that happens when Ford falls in in canon so it should be fine I guess. But it's still a concern ofc! That's why Ford doesn't want to leave it unsupervised!

[thebrokengate]

Hi, FiddleStanner here!

I would say the ship is different to everybody because I've seen multiple ways of interpreting it: Fiddleford projecting Ford onto Stan, Fiddleford and Stan finding healing through each other, Fiddleford and Stan trying to find healing through each other but end up making each other worse, Stan getting Fiddleford's help to work on the portal and they fall in love during this, etc. To me, part of it did start from vibe pairing. As the kids say, I felt like they matched each other's freak (dude who punched a dinosaur in the face x dude who ate his way through a dinosaur, and so on) better to me personally than Fiddauthor (though I have no problems with that ship at all, their character vibes were just too different from each other for me to be that interested in it). But FiddleStan later became something more to me with the possibilities that they could find healing in each other after the portal incident. They would both be going off the deep end at this point, Fiddleford with the memory gun, Stan trying to get his brother back, and I think they could both find comfort in each other that they're not alone in their struggles.

Thinking about it my way, I always go back to the Scary-oke episode where Stan admits to lying about the truth of Gravity Falls and that the town was weird to protect the kids, and I think if he and Fiddleford had been in a relationship at any point, Stan probably would do that for him too if he saw how unnerved Fiddleford was about it. It would be a way of putting the idea of the town's strange happenings out of Fiddleford's mind without him even having to use the memory gun (though to be fair, he would still use it if he saw it.. but I imagine a scenario like where Fiddleford might hear something rummaging through the garbage outside and wonder if there were raccoons or possums outside, only for Stan to go out and check and just see gnomes out there that he'd have to chase off and then come back and tell Fiddleford "yup, just the raccoons again" lmao).

Another way I like to think of them bonding is post-finale when they're older men and maybe they would bond over memory loss which would open them up to actually talking about how they were both hurt by Ford's obsessions, and though they're both finally letting bygones be bygones, it could still be healing for them to talk about and acknowledge what they went through. (Also this is not a jab at Ford at all, this is just to say that they were both caught up in the crossfire of Ford's downward spiral, being so obsessed with uncovering the truth of Gravity Falls that he summoned an interdimensional dream demon who had him build a portal that he then got sucked into, and they might bond over their feelings about that whole incident.) A lot of times, I like to combine both of these ideas, that they could've been together post-portal, it was comforting for a while, but then things went wrong when Fiddleford rediscovered the portal Stan is working on and suddenly remembers everything, leading to more memory gun usage perhaps on both of them.. and then years later they manage to bond again over all the new things they've been through and their shared issues with memory loss.

Of course there's no real canon story to go off of to ship this, unless you're crazy like me and try to convince yourself the Old Goldie marriage and Raccoon Wife is actual evidence.. I'm leaving this here to look a little less crazy.. but who am I kidding here?

Anyway, that's pretty much why I ship it: it's a trope of "we're both hurting and find comfort in each other" which is one of my favorite tropes of all time besides lovers to enemies (yes, you read that right, usually most people go for enemies to lovers but I'm usually the opposite lol). But hey, one last thing before I drop this reblog that got so much longer than it should have (I'm so sorry), I do want to thank you for asking so nicely about it! There's been a big influx of people just randomly dropping hate in the tag lately, so it's refreshing to see someone just genuinely being curious. So thanks! :)

Genuine question, what's the hype behind fiddlestan?

I cannot emphasise enough how much I don't mean to be rude with this question, I just want to understand it.

Is it pairing vibes together and deciding it would make a great coupling or is there more substance I'm not considering?

[gobblewanker]

The Mystery and The Isosceles

Ch 12: The Cursed Coordinates

Also on AO3

The door closed neatly behind them as Mabel and Dipper finally returned to their commandeered officer's cabin. Just like back on The Mystery, Stan had insisted the kids get their own room. This one was still pristine and austere though, having been left that way by the previous owners. It was a far cry from the cramped and messy room on the old ship, but also far more impersonal.

Mabel hoisted herself up into the hammock strung above the room's one bed with ease, and Dipper flopped bonelessly onto the mattress below. She leaned over the side, her hair hanging down across her face as she stretched out her arms with a grabbing motion.

"Waddles transport system."

Exhaling tiredly, Dipper sat up in bed. The pig happily trotted over to him and with some difficulty he passed the animal for Mabel to pull up onto the foot end of her hammock.

"Thank you!" Mabel said cheerfully.

Dipper blew out the lone candle in its holder by the door, and the warm light disappeared leaving the room blanketed by darkness. The ship swayed like a gently rocking cradle and the muffled sound of waves lapping at the hull was comfortably soporific. Both children were bone tired and ready to drift off at any moment, safe and secure with all their family finally gathered under one roof.

But then came a reminder of just how fragmentary and strife that family was in the form of agitated voices just barely carried through the imperfectly sealed plank ceilings.

"They're shouting." Dipper noted glumly.

Mabel, closer to the ceiling, shrugged before remembering Dipper couldn't see her.

"Maybe it's happy shouting." She strained to listen. "I think Grunkle Ford said we're going to meet the queen?"

"Ugh, what's going to happen now? I mean, I'm glad Ford's okay and stuff but…"

"Hmm." Mabel dropped her hand down over the side of the hammock for Dipper to take, which he did after a while. She gathered her thoughts before continuing optimistically. "But I mean, we've been through scarier changes before right? Mom and dad and grandpa… Losing the ship… And we were okay. Weren't we?"

"Yeah, I guess we were, huh?" Dipper smiled slightly, looking at the lump on the canvas above where his sister sat.

"See? So long as we have each other, we'll be okay."

It got quiet again. Ford and Stan seemed to have stopped shouting, so that was probably a good sign. Dipper raised a foot into the air and kicked Mabel's back lightly through the canvas.

"Hey. Why didn't you tell me earlier? About Ford?" He asked. "I mean, I could have helped, but it's like you don't…"

The lump shifted uncomfortably.

"I just… I didn't think it was a big deal. He asked me not to tell."

"Mabel…"

"Come on, it's not that big of a deal. I was just…"

"I wouldn't tell on you, stupid." He kicked her again, almost enough to make her fall off. She leaned over the side and looked at him worriedly, but he smiled.

She let out a breath she hadn't realised she was holding. "Yeah, okay. Good night, stupid."

Despite Stan and Ford's less than optimal attempt at talking things out the night before, Stan had at least showed the common courtesy of finding his obstinate mule of a brother somewhere decent to sleep before turning in for the night. He shouldn't have been surprised when, after getting up and walking through the ship, Ford wasn't where he'd left him. Of course not, nothing Stan could offer would ever be good enough, and his royal haughtiness would rather find some random hole to squirrel away in. Fine, if that's what he wanted to do then he could suit himself, Stan sure didn't care.

For a moment he'd worried Ford might have left the ship altogether. But he dismissed the idea as ridiculous.

After all, Ford wasn't going to leave without the kids.

He stepped out into the morning light and was greeted with the sight of Fiddleford already up on deck, the tapestry they'd stolen from the Northwests spread over the map as he meticulously examined it. Stan made his way over, relieving the crewmember who'd been on steering duty throughout the night and settling in against the wheel. His attention was split between the horizon and Fiddleford.

"Finding anything interesting?"

Fiddleford startled, too engrossed in thinking to have noticed the captain approach. Eyes meeting Stan's, he fixed the glasses on his long nose before shaking his head.

"Nathin' yet. Sorry, for a second ah thought ya might've been Stanferd."

"Haven't seen him." Stan's tone soured.

Red strings in a triangle pattern stared knowingly up at him from the weave. The tapestry was an ugly tacky thing. Bill had no taste, but it wasn't nearly gaudy enough for him to want it on principle alone.

"So what're we after exactly?" Stan looked ahead to make sure there were no immediate obstacles in the way but saw nothing except open water. Satisfied the ship wouldn't run aground if he was inattentive for a bit, he looked closer at the tapestry. Fiddleford scooted the map aside and moved it closer so he could get a better look.

"Two people worshipping a triangle?" Stan raised a brow at the nonsensical design. "Fire, dead trees, and skeletons… Doesn't really say much useful, does it? Some kind of doomsday?"

Faint and unsure, a demonstrative cough reached the men and they turned around. Pacifica stood at the top of the stairs up to the wheel carrying a tray with bread, milk and tea. Her ballgown from the night before had been traded for a more sensible shirt and trousers, though she still wore the outermost robe tied at the waist with a cut off piece of purple fabric. Soon as they looked at her, her expression turned embarrassed.

"Susan told me to help deliver breakfast." She muttered while looking down at the floor.

"Not used to being on that side of the tray, huh?" Stan asked easily.

Pacifica looked up at him with narrowed eyes and a scowl.

"Oh hush up." Fiddleford admonished, accepting the tray with a warm smile and placing it on the map table as well. "Thank ya kindly, little miss. Did you help bake?"

"I… Yeah, uh, sort of? Susan said I'm no good yet, but I got to knead the dough." 

At that, Stan looked to her hands and noticed a distinctly less 'perfectly manicured' look than yesterday. She picked at her fingernails clogged up with a mix of flour and water, clearly unaccustomed to the feeling.

"Ah'm sure you'll get the hang o' it soon." Fiddleford encouraged.

"We'll get the snobbishness out of you yet." Stan said. "You eaten?"

Like clockwork, her stomach growled and she flinched back as if mortified.

"We're- They said we should finish handing out food first."

"Well, I'm the captain, and I say you get something to eat. You too Fidds, you were here before me so take a break." Stan took one of the loaves then pushed the remaining platter towards the others. "Was never much for tea, I'll get something stronger later."

"Stanley Pines, don't lie to me." Fiddleford chided playfully. "Ah think you're just embarrassed you like them girly fruity teas, I've seen ya put an entire peach—pit 'n all—in a kettle. Ah know, cause I owned the tree."

"Hey, don't diss my pitt tea."

"Ah swear, you ever go back to England— it ain't the piracy they'll have you executed for."

"Eh, whatever."

Fiddleford took one of the cups of tea and motioned for Pacifica to take the other. With that, they went to sit at the top of the stair and eat their breakfast. Fiddleford was good with children, Stan noted as he watched the old man speak kindly to the girl. Hopefully they could get her feeling more comfortable soon. Stan returned to looking at the tapestry, munching on his bread.

Let's see, he'd read codes in Ford's journals, but none of the images seemed recognisably as such. Maybe it was something about numbers? One triangle, three trees, two people… Maybe it wasn't even an actual tangible message? Maybe it was something more abstract, and he was looking at things the wrong way?

"Good morning Fiddleford. Miss Northwest." Ford nodded to both as he passed them coming up the stairs. He noticeably didn't address Stan as he came up and glanced at the table. "Any luck?"

"No." Stan replied coldly. 

"Thank you, Stan."

"What?"

Stan looked at Ford incredulously. That seagull that had been following Ford around like a lost duckling all evening yesterday stood in the middle of the map. One of the breads was in his beak as he put it in Ford's open hand.

The bird turned to look at Stan. Ford did as well, his ears going red.

"Not you." He snapped. Looking at the table stubbornly as the redness spread to his cheeks. "The bird's name is Stan."

Hopping forward innocently, the gull tilted its head looking at Stan with curious eyes. The feathers on its head stood up messily, and in a few patches on its body the feathers were missing or damaged like it'd be in one too many fights. One wing hung slack at the side of its body.

"You named a rat with wings after me?" He wasn't sure if he should be touched or offended.

Like gasping at the insult, the bird screeched at him before hopping back up on Ford's shoulder sourly.

"There's plenty of Stans in the world." Ford muttered, not looking up and playing absentmindedly with the tassels on the tapestry.

"Okay."

Stan went back to looking for anything that might clue him in to the significance of the tapestry. He made another cursory look at the map while he was at it, turning back to the wheel briefly. They hadn't seen any sign they'd been followed out of Gravity Falls, but it'd be strange if they weren't. Bill was insistent. But then again, The Isosceles was a clunky ship.

"Hang on." Ford spoke suddenly. "There are knots on this tassel, did you notice that? The individual strings—they're knotted."

Stan groaned. "I really don't think that's a big deal, brainiac."

"What ain't a big deal?" Fiddleford got up and came over, leaving Pacifica watching them from the stairs.

"The strings." Ford explained looking intensely at Fiddleford. "Look, this one has two knots, this one has four, this one has one…"

"So what?" Stan asked. "So someone got the cords tangled, what's the big idea?"

"They're not knotted with each other, they're knotted with themselves. Intentionally." Ford spoke like an exasperated teacher trying to get something through to a particularly slow child. "I think…"

Ford tugged at the centermost tassel, and it detached cleanly. Unrolling the coil in his hand, he found it to be made of one thicker cord with several knotted strings hanging off of it. Ford examined it closely, touching the frayed strings gingerly.

"These aren't knots. They're numbers." Ford looked at both of them earnestly. "Some cultures in South America that lacked a proper writing system would use these instead. I learned to decode them when I was in the area looking for records of the mythical fountain of youth."

"Fountain o' youth?" Fiddleford asked, but Ford dismissed him.

"An old hypothesis about Bill, but never mind that."

"Just looks like knots to me." Stan said sceptically, looking closer.

"The same way our alphabet is 'just lines' to the uninitiated."

"What's it sayin' then?" Fiddleford asked.

Taking a pen left on the table, Ford examined the strings carefully and despite Stan's protests began to note down the numbers in black pencil on an empty stretch of water. Looking at the letters materialising Stan spoke up almost instantly.

"Hang on, I recognize this!" Ford put down the last number, and Stan put the pieces together from thirty years of nautical experience. "These are coordinates."

Shoving Ford aside despite his protests, Stan leaned over the numbers. 

No, this can't be right.

Stan looked the numbers over again, trying to mentally place them on the map, hoping he might have gotten something wrong. That he had to have made some kind of mistake.

"Ford, are you sure these are the right numbers?"

"I'm not stupid, Stanley." He replied, not bothering to hide his frustration. "What is it?"

"Gravity Falls."

It got silent very abruptly.

"What?" Fiddleford asked aghast.

"The coordinates. They pinpoint the island." Stan pointed at a seemingly empty piece of the map. "It's right here."

Ford pushed back like Stan had done earlier, leaning over to scrutinise the map closely. But there was nothing there. He didn't have much experience navigating at sea; whenever Ford had to travel across water he more often than not stowed away or bartered a place on a ship. As much as he didn't like to admit it, that was one area where Stan had greater expertise. But even so…

"There's nothing on the map, you have to be mistaken."

"I'm not. Gravity Falls isn't on any maps anymore, because whenever it is, that map ends up lost." Stan said. Then his eyes lit up. "But this isn't a map! I get it. They outsmarted the jinx!"

"But… But why would Bill need directions to Gravity Falls?" Stan looked back at Fiddleford to find him wringing his hands nervously, leg bouncing a mile a minute.

"That is true." Ford closed his eyes, deep in thought. "He very clearly already knows where the island is."

Turning around abruptly to the child watching them quietly, Stan addressed her loudly.

"Pacifica!"

She made a startled squeak, putting her teacup up to her mouth to hide the startled expression.

"Where did your family get this?" 

"Um, I-I-" Pacifica began to stutter under the sudden scrutiny, before the 'proper Northwest manners' her father had drilled into her took over and with a deep breath she levelled her voice somewhat. "Father said it was made by the original inhabitants of the island before they disappeared-"

"'Disappeared' my ass." Stan interrupted her by growling. He'd had too many good crewmates from native tribes and foreign countries to not have heard their stories. "I bet Nathaniel-"

"Stanley." Fiddleford's voice cut through his words and everyone—even Ford—stood up straight and looked at him. It was eerily close to the tone of voice their mom would use to scold them when they were little. Was that some kind of nebulous ability everyone got the second they became a parent? Just giving that kind of power away hardly seemed fair.

Stepping away from the other two adults, Fiddleford sat back down next to Pacifica and continued to speak in a much gentler tone.

"It ain't yer fault whatever happened, alright? Ya weren't there, ya weren't even alive back then." She looked down at the floor, slumping. There was a soft sniffle, and Fiddleford put a hand on her shoulder reassuringly. "Yer not a bad person. Yer just a little girl."

"Okay." She whispered.

"Okay, sorry." Stan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I shouldn't have yelled, 's just all really stressful. Can ya please tell us what you know?"

She breathed deeply for another few seconds, before nodding slowly.

"I really don't know anything more than what my father told me. But… He said that the original inhabitants disappeared long before our family showed up with the first settlers. But nobody knows why." She spoke slowly and deliberately, trying hard to keep her voice under control. "Some relics were taken by the few survivors when they left. Father bought that tapestry from a Spanish sea captain a few years back."

"I thought it'd been in your family for generations?"

She shook her head.

"That just sounded better."

As the child finished her story, Ford looked back to the object in question trying to figure out how this new information might fit into the narrative. What if…

"Perhaps…" Ford began, and the others' attention came back to him. "What if Bill found out about this purchase? He knew the relic would lead him somewhere, but not where exactly."

"Why'd he'd be this determined to get it if he doesn't even know the purpose?" Stan countered. "He's insane, not stupid."

"Maybe he just puts too much stock in tall tales of hidden gold and treasure maps." Ford answered coldly.

The statement seemed innocuous enough to the others, but Stan heard it as the jab it was. Not that he'd acknowledge it. It didn't hurt to hear Ford so casually dismissive of the childhood games and stories that had used to mean everything to them. It didn't.

Ford was a hypocrite anyways, acting like he hadn't been just as happy to play pirates.

"So what then?" Fiddleford spoke again. "This still don't make us much wiser on what Bill wants. Wha'd we do now?"

"I say we go back to what we've been doing for thirty years. If Bill is coming after us cause we have some shiny token he wants, I say let him." Stan said. "If he wants a fight, we give him a fight."

Ford's face turned ashen, but he quickly shook it off. 

"Don't be stupid." He poked Stan hard in the chest. "You want us to go fight that demon with our niece and nephew in tow?"

Stan batted Ford's hand away and shoved him back.

"Listen asshole, you said you'd take them away once Bill is dead but until then, I'm in charge. They're my responsibility."

"Then be responsible!"

"Take us where?"

Small and heartbreakingly confused, the voice made Ford's blood freeze and the air stop dead in his lungs. The children were already up, and while they'd been too busy arguing had arrived on deck. Mabel and Dipper both looked at him, hurt and betrayed.

"I-I… That's not important right now."

"Take us where?" Dipper stepped up, his voice taking on a harsher tone. Mabel stared right at him with wide eyes, and Dipper's hands were balled into fists.

"Dipper, please, you're a clever child, surely you understand by now that this isn't a good place for you to be." Ford tried to reason with the children. He doubted someone as emotional as Mabel seemed to be would be willing to see his reasoning when it stood pitted against a more palatable childish notion of friendship and trust overcoming everything. But maybe if he could talk some sense into Dipper she's follow on principle. Behind his back the skies almost darkened as Stan crossed his arms and looked away.

"You two have been here—what—a month?" Ford continued. "In that time, you've almost drowned, almost died on a deserted island, almost been shot with canonfire and maimed in battle."

"The drowning and deserted island happened before we met Stan!" Mabel cried angrily.

"My point still stands! Moses, you've read my journal! You both know exactly what Bill is capable off and I won't stand by and watch something like that happen to either of you!"

"Well that's not up to you!" Dipper protested. "We'd never even met you two days ago!'

"You'd never met Stanley two months ago."

"Alright so what's your plan then?" Dipper countered. His breathing was rising higher in his throat with every word. He felt angry to the point of wanting to cry. Why wasn't Stan speaking up too? He couldn't just watch Ford take them away. "Drop us off back on shore so we can go back to dealing with disease and starvation and working until we pass out? You think just because there are no pirates there it's safe?"

Dipper and Mabel had lost their family once—twice—and they'd finally managed to rebuild it. He wouldn't just watch that crumble again. He'd promised Mabel that he'd take care of her, and he was going to do that. Even if it meant standing up to Ford. Even if it meant yelling at the author.

Ford brought a hand up to his face exasperatedly, then used the other to wave in the air punctuating his speech.

"I'm not going to leave you unattended." He spoke deliberately slowly. "When this is all over, I'll go with you. Well move back to shore, you—ugh—you can even choose which one! I'll take care of you, you'll be safe and educated, you'll stay with each other."

"Have you even had a fixed address any time in the last thirty years?" Mabel piqued up out of nowhere. Face serious, and tone surprisingly biting. "You want to look after us, but you don't even really seem like you're looking after yourself."

Ford opened his mouth, closed it again, and looked away. He felt an uncomfortable heat rising to his face as he focused on breathing and not letting the outward calm crack.

"You don't understand." He started, but was again interrupted.

"No, you don't understand." Dipper said. "This is our home, this is our family. Maybe that doesn't mean anything to you but-"

"Of course that means something to me!" Ford snapped. Of course he cared, if he didn't care he wouldn't be so insistent on taking them away. If he didn't care, he wouldn't be so furious over what Stan had done to himself. Love and anger weren't mutually exclusive, apathy was.

"Then act like it!" Dipper yelled back.

"I am! If you'd just listen-"

"No!" Mabel stood at the middle of the deck, pointing demonstratively with a cutlass she must have taken from somewhere because surely not even Stan could be irresponsible enough to teach a small girl sword fighting?

A ranged weapon would fit her much better.

"Mabel."

"No, you listen! This is where we belong and we're not going anywhere!" To punctuate the finality of her words, she's brought the sword down expertly in an arch.

As she did so however, sharpened steel collided with the mast behind her, severing a bundle of ropes. She went from standing confident legs apart and chest puffed up, to throwing up her shoulders and bristling like a startled cat as the ropes whipped and flew into the air. The main sail sagged on the mast, teetering precariously for a second, before coming down.

The deck was shrouded in the fallen sail, and so too did a stunned silence fall.

The ship continued on at its former speed carried by insertia a while longer, before gradually slowing almost to a crawl as everyone watched unmoving.

"Uh oh." Dipper's heart sank.

Stan sighed.

"Stand and fight it is then."

Despite loud protests, Mabel and Dipper were sent back to their room and out of the way of the confrontation that by now seemed inevitable. The rest of the day was consumed by tense nervousness and silent dread. The ship still moved, but trying to outrun anything without the mainsail seemed like an exercise in futility. So they just waited in the calm before the storm.

Stan called for all hands on deck and explained the situation, sending the crew into a flurry of activity. Wendy checked the damage done to the rigging, confirming she'd probably be able to come up with a fix, but that'd it'd take a while.

"Great." Stan groaned sarcastically. "Fuck's sake, what lubbers fastened those sails? Did you never check if Gideon's rabble did a decent job before taking over?"

Wendy looked at him sheepishly.

Down below, Dipper paced around and around their small cabin ceaselessly, pulling at his hair. Mabel lay on her back on the floor, staring up at the ceiling and petting Waddles sadly. She looked at Dipper as he yelled angrily and kicked the door, only to almost immediately jump back holding his aching foot.

"I can't believe this!" He threw his hands up, before falling back onto his bed and putting his face in his hands. "I can't believe him."

"I can't believe I stranded us like that." Mabel said mournfully.

"Ugh, this is bad. I mean, we can't just leave the ship out of nowhere right? I mean, I know Ford means well, and like, if he'd shown up and offered that two months ago it would have been great! But-..." 

Dipper pressed the heels of his hands against his eyelids breathing heavily.

"I thought he was some kind of hero, but Stan's the one who's actually been doing stuff."

Stan saved Gravity Falls. Stan gave them a home again. He went after Bill when nobody else would, and made sure people in the town could survive. Ford? Where had Ford even been all that time? Why had he never bothered to go back and check up on his home? Stan had never even been there, and he still seemed to care more.

"What do we do?" Dipper asked, not really expecting Mabel to have an answer but more than happy to hear it if she did. "We can't just sit here doing nothing."

"No, and we won't." Mabel said firmly, getting off the floor. She pulled her thin metal knitting needles out from her dress' pocket and approached the door.

Waddled followed her, squealing at her feet as she put the needles into the large keyhole and began rooting around.

She'd gotten them into this mess, so she was going to help them get out of it too whether or not Stan and Ford liked it. They were being stupid, yelling at eachother and acting like Mabel and Dipper shouldn't have a say in things. Way too many things in their lives had gone wrong already for them to just stand back because they 'weren't old enough'. Not this time. It was their lives, it should be their decisions.

The lock clicked, and the door swung open. Dipper raised his head again looking at her surprised before smiling widely.

"Way to go Mabel!"

Mabel kneeled down until she was face to face with Waddles, squished his cheeks together, and looked him in the eyes dead seriously.

"We're counting on you to keep down the fort and make sure they don't realise we're gone."

The pig stuck out his tongue and licked her nose in reply.

By the time they finally saw the faint outline of The Isosceles appear on the horizon, night had fallen fully. The moon was barely a thin sliver of moonlight above them and the decks of both ships were dotted periodically with glowing lanterns. The water in-between both ships was still and calm, barely rippling as the behemoth glided towards them. The deck was full of people, waiting with bated breaths for the stillness to break. Waiting to see who'd fire first as the calm broke to the storm.

Stan stood at the helm, watching resolutely. If nothing else, his ship had the advantage of position. They were still, stationed with their broadside bared. The isosceles approached, and had no choice but to to keep the prow aimed at the enemy. They'd have to turn or pass before they could land any hits.

Waiting until the other ship was within range, Stan gave the word, and all hell broke loose.

The cannons roared like thunder. Each volley of metal and deafening blasts sent the ship rocking back and forth like a tiny frail leaf on the surface of a tumultuous pond. They felt remarkably small out on the water, nothing around for miles but sea and sky and a gargantuan ship gaining on them fast. A few shots hit, rocking the larger ship, while others disappeared ineffectively into the depths with huge splashes like geysers at sea. It didn't take long before the other was at their side.

The ships fought yardarm to yardarm as The Isosceles began to return fire hitting the lower parts of the ship sending shrapnel every which way. Stan saw the red hot cannonballs pound their broadside as he shouted orders at his men, barely audible above it all. He spotted Bill standing on his ship's deck above them, looking down contemptuously. 

Ford was standing close, as was Fiddleford. But neither man was looking the same way Stan was. Both regarded the scene on deck, itching to do something. But so long as the battle was only guns against guns there wasn't much any of them could do but wait for an inevitable boarding.

Another volley of shots from the other ship answered theirs. Stan watched one rip through the wall at the front of the ship, and suddenly his eyes went wide.

"The kids!"

Ford's head whipped around abruptly, lips parted to speak. But before he could Stan had already pushed past him. He skipped the steps entirely, jumping onto the deck beneath.

The kids' room was at the front of the ship.

Stan's heart was beating out of his chest. He'd thought he'd keep them safe by keeping them away from the deck where the bulk of the inevitable battle was bound to rage; he hadn't realised The Isosceles's cannons were firing at that height. The Mystery had been built completely different.

The cannons still fired as Stan got down below deck, running past the crew manning the cannons, taking care of injured crewmates, and running with gunpowder. Each time a shot landed the metal ball tore through the ship like paper. Huge showers of splinters erupted from the stricken wood killing and maiming people. The shrapnel caused far more casualties than the cannonballs themselves. 

The wall closest to him exploded loudly and suddenly. Stan barely had the time to put his arm up across his eyes as he was thrown back, landing hard on the floor. His arm throbbed. He dared to lower it, and found his bicep looking like a red pincushion. There were splinters sticking out every which way.

Stan bit his lip, breathing hard as he closed and opened his hand experimentally. He found himself immensely grateful it was his arm and not his eyes. It hurt, but he still had mobility. So no major damage. Getting the splinters out could wait.

While Stan pushed himself up with his bleeding arm (why did it have to be his dominant one?) Ford passed him in the corridor. He nimbly dodged just as another wall broke before sliding to a stop in front of their niblings' door, and a strange pang of almost jealousy shot through Stan.

"Showoff." He mumbled under his breath, reaching the other just as Ford shouldered the door open.

What greeted them was an empty room and a startled pig huddled under the bed.

"Shit." Stan breathed.

Mabel and Dipper weren't there. Unbeknownst to either of their uncles, they'd been up on deck all along with a plan hatched in the excruciatingly drawn out wait.

Once the crew of The Isosceles finally began to swing over to the other ship and the fighting on deck began in earnest, the twins were just as quick to grab one of the lines each and quietly sneak aboard the enemy ship. Mabel led them inside, cross referencing what little she remembered from her brief time onboard with the layouts of both The Mystery and their current ship, hoping for some kind of standardised layout.

"This way to the magazine?" Dipper whispered hurriedly.

She nodded. "Ford explained it to me when we took Gideon's ship."

Dipper clutched the long fuse in his pocket.

Back on board their ship, Stan and Ford had just ran breathlessly back out onto deck. Stan spotted Soos not too far off and yelled to him.

"The kids are somewhere out here!" Stan shouted. Soos looked back at him gaping like a fish. "Find them and keep them out of the fighting!"

"Yes sir!"

Stan's injured arm protested as he drew his sword and ran headfirst into the thick of it, but he paid it little mind. What mattered now was driving the enemy back and doing as much damage as possible.

Some part of him expected Ford to fall back. Ready to defend himself should he need to, of course, but far more comfortable staying on the sidelines away from confrontation. But he didn't. Ford fought, and he fought well.

Out of the corner of his eye, Stan watched Ford battle. He had a cutlass covered in strange symbols that he used with confidence and poise. Hell, he almost seemed classically trained. But if anything the shots he took with a pistol were even more impressive. He slashed a man who'd approached him from behind, only to turn around in the same motion and fire at a figure on the other ship's deck standing poised to swing.

When had his shy brother turned into that cold competent stranger? Did Bill do that to him, or was it just a natural progression Stan hadn't been there to witness? Of course, Ford had never been scared of running headfirst into danger when they were little either, but…

But only with Stan at his side.

It almost hurt. The one thing Stan was better at, the one thing he could do for his brother… If Stan wasn't the strong twin, who was he? If he wasn't protecting or avenging Ford, what was he doing? There was nothing else. It was all he'd ever done.

As the battle raged onboard the ship, Mabel and Dipper were making their way deeper into enemy territory. Very soon both found themselves below deck and were abruptly appalled.

Dipper's foot touched the floor under the stair and he was taken aback by the fact that it was soft. He looked down, only to see a thick layer of sawdust. Looking out over the gundeck that was thankfully too distracted by the battle at hand to notice the twins, he soon realised the reason: The floor was covered to soak up the blood.

There were casualties everywhere, dead and alive. One man had a piece of wood the size of Dipper's arm embedded in his leg. He sat screaming in a corner as his crewmates busied around him barely noticing. The gundeck was a loud cacophonous mess full of so much shouting and exploding Dipper felt as if his ears might burst. The clouds of smoke choked and blinded and everything smelled of sulphur, as if hell itself had opened up in the bowels of the ship. It was their first real look at naval combat, and suddenly he found himself just a bit more understanding of Ford's reasoning.

A woman with soot-smeared features and a dirty pink dress headed the gunners. It was the same one they'd seen at the party. Neither Dipper nor Mabel were unfamiliar with tough women, not since Wendy, but Pyronica didn't just seem tough—she was vicious.

Mabel took Dipper's hand and dragged him into a less obvious position just as a lanky man with a hunched back and filthy hair showed up.

"Master gunner! The captain says to stop shooting!"

Her dress billowed as she turned and looked at him with contempt.

"You crazy!? No way!"

The man was pushed aside without a thought, falling over the side of the stairs and landing hard on his knees and hands below. Mabel's hand around his clenched tighter as Bill ducked down below deck.

"Stop firing!" He snarled furiously. "They have something I need, and I can't get it if it's miles underwater!"

"But Captain, they're not gonna stop shooting!"

"Then get over there and slaughter every last gunner! Would you freaks rather they kill you or I?" Bill looked at the injured sailor still moaning in the corner as if disgusted, before—without hesitation—shooting the man. "See what happens to whiners?"

She looked like she wanted to voice another protest, but swallowed it down and relayed the orders. The crew left following Bill, and Mabel and Dipper both breathed out. That was far too close.

Continuing to the already unguarded magazine, Mabel examined the powder keeping Ford's previous explanations about spark-proof walls and the effects of water in mind. Dipper laid out a long stretch of fuse.

"There's a small gap." Mabel pointed out a portion of the wall where the metal sheets bent inwards, probably from some kind of earlier collision or blow. It wasn't blasted open, but from the cracks between the bulging sheets water was trickling through. "It's not gotten to all of the powder yet though, so some might still go boom." She nodded to herself.

Dipper nodded in return, lit the fuse, and both children bolted from the now mostly abandoned ship.

Stan threw another cursory glance at the Isosceles as more reinforcements joined the men already on deck. He swore silently, but there wasn't anything he could do to stop it, so better to focus on the immediate threats. He was about to rejoin the fight when he spotted two more figures appearing at the taffrail after all the others had left.

His heart felt like it both wanted to stop and burst out of his chest at the same time.

It was the kids. The kids had snuck onboard Bill's ship.

Those two were going to be the death of him.

Stan pushed aside allies and cut down enemies, making his way towards the side of the ship as quickly as he could. By the time he reached what he calculated had to be the intended landing spot Mabel already had one of the ropes in hand and stood poised to swing.

She did it so confidently he'd be proud, if he wasn't already furious.

Mabel landed expertly on the floor—she'd be a damn good pirate some day—and Stan was ready to take and pull her back behind himself. She shrieked in surprise, but quieted when she noticed who exactly had grabbed her. She didn't fight as Stan pushed her back where he could at least somewhat protect her, and he turned his attention to the other child.

Dipper looked far less sure of himself. He stood on the railing with a nervous expression looking all around himself as if searching for another out. That was just perfect, Stan thought. The boy got caught up in his head too much.

Squeezing his eyes shut, the boy swung. Stan's heart dropped as his hands slipped on the rope and he lost his hold.

"Kid!"

Miraculously, Dipper didn't fall into the void between the two ships because swinging down from the rafter and catching him was Wendy. She plucked the boy out of the air in one swift motion, holding him securely to land back safely on the ship. She released the flustered child and he tumbled onto the floor blushing with his entire face.

"Oh my God, t-that was-!" He stammered.

"It's chill. Just be more careful next time, okay you little maniac?"

Her calm demeanour dropped immediately as Stan reached past her to stab at another pirate who’d crept up behind.

"Right, battle." She tensed and got an axe out.

Drawing back, Stan took both children by the shoulders and hugged them bone-crushingly tight. Then, he pulled them back at an arm's length and yelled at them.

"What the hell did you two think you were doing!?" Panic and rage both coloured his voice until it came out even coarser than normal.

"Grunkle Stan! We were-"

Mabel didn't get to finish her sentence before he hugged them again—if possible—even tighter.

"I can't lose you two." He whispered. "Not already."

Looking at each other over his shoulders, Mabel and Dipper couldn't think of anything to reply. But they didn't have to. Just as quickly as it'd come the vulnerable moment was gone.

"Soos, Wendy!" He pushed them towards the crewmates in mention. "Keep them away from the worst of the fighting."

"On it Captain Pines!" Soos saluted. As Stan returned to engaging the attackers once again, Mabel and Dipper both watched the other ship with bated breath as they were dragged away. It hadn't blown yet. Maybe the fuse had gone out? Was it too long? What if someone had discovered it, or the powder was too wet? Why was nothing happening?

Ford didn't notice what was going on with the kids. For the moment, he was completely absorbed in fighting. Usually when he'd gotten into fights during his years away from everything, the people he came at odds with were less antagonists and more simply opponents. Soldiers just doing their jobs, groups protecting knowledge that could help him, or on the unfortunate few occasions, people who simply had items he needed. None of those deserved to die, and so he never fought his hardest.

This was different. These were Bill's cohorts. Not only were they marauding criminals, but they were so under the flag of the monster that had ruined Ford's life. Their loss wouldn't be mourned by anyone, and he had every right to defend himself.

In some twisted way it almost felt good. It wasn't the same individuals it had been thirty years ago but it was the same crew on principle. He hadn't been able to fight back way back then, but he could now. He wasn't cowering from them, they were the ones getting beaten back. He had a few cuts and scrapes, but nothing major.

They couldn't hurt him. They couldn't touch him. He could defend himself.

One of the few sounds that could break through to him did: His gull screeched as if in pain, and Ford looked instantly. The bird was grappling with a hawktopus, a strange despicable creature and one of the few strange beings of Gravity Falls he actively disliked. Worse yet, it was one he distinctly remembered Bill owning.

It was stupid and reckless, but Ford couldn't lose that gull. He couldn't lose the only consistent friend he'd had throughout the worst thirty years of his life. He ran towards where the animals were clashing with sharp beaks and claws in midair. But with his eyes on the sky not quite seeing where he was going, Ford ran straight into the back of another person. The man turned around with a growl and a cutlass raised, ready to strike him down, only for both to stop dead as they recognised each other.

Ford couldn't breathe.

"You're alive."

Bill looked stunned. But then his face quickly turned angry as the realisation sat in. Ford swore he could see that soulless gold eye flicker to life with hate. Bill covered it up with a huge unnatural grin, savage and hungry, like a starved wolf. Instead of stabbing Ford as he'd stood prepared to do, Bill took him by the upper arms, digging his fingers into the muscle hard enough to hurt as he pushed him back.

Ford's mind went blank. All the fight in him left, and suddenly he was abandoned on the battlefield without a weapon. Like a human sacrifice, left by his frantically fleeing rationality to sate an insurmountable foe.

He couldn't fight back, Bill enjoyed it when he fought back, it would only drag things out. His hands lost their strength and his cutlass clattered uselessly onto the ground. His legs turned limp like those on a child's doll. As Bill pushed, he stumbled back and he thought what he stumbled over had to be the hay covering the floor of the brig. He could swear he felt shackles around his wrists.

He was pushed up against something that had to be the ship's mast but against his back felt just like the window of The Isosceles' captain's cabin. He could smell fire. He could hear screaming. One of Bill's hands grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, almost choking. The other took his jaw roughly.

"Here's a sight for sore eye!" Bill's voice was burned into him, tattooed on his brain. It was still just as sharp and grating. "You know… I was going to kill everyone on this damn piece of driftwood. But I could always make an exception for an old friend! Want to come back aboard for round two?"

Bill's face was too close. His entire body was too close, Ford couldn't breathe and any second the burning and beating and cutting had to start. Old wounds began to scream with phantom pain. He couldn't breathe. He pushed against Bill frantically, but there was no strength in him.

Suddenly Bill screamed and let go as if touching Ford burned him. He swung around hunched like an animal showing a huge gash in his side. Stan stood behind him with a bloodied blade, breathing like he'd just been running.

"Get the fuck away from him ya demon bastard."

Bill didn't hesitate for a second to engage Stan. Both were already injured, Stan from the splinters and a few other jabs he seemed to have gotten during the fight, and Bill from the impressively large wound dripping red all the way down his yellow jacket. But they fought furiously regardless, both dead set on killing the other. Ford all but collapsed against the mast, trying and failing to regain his breath.

Having seen the entire exchange, Mabel broke away from Soos. Taking the big swath of purple fabric hanging around her waist—the first gift she'd gotten from Stan, after spotting bolts of the stuff along with stolen treasure in the cargo hold. Purple was crazy expensive, she'd never even seen fabric that colour—she threw it over the strange creature harassing Ford's bird. She threw herself at the furiously flailing bundle and held it down even as it's beak poked through the fabric and scratched her arms like a cheesegrater.

Without the other animal pursuing it, the gull returned to its distressed master, trying to calm him down.

As Stan and Bill continued to fight, Bill gradually started moving more and more imprecisely as he lost blood. Frankly, Stan had no idea how he was even standing. But as he lost strength it became clear their duel couldn't go on forever. Perhaps Bill sensed that too, because throwing the rules of fair combat to the sharks he pulled a gun. But he didn't aim it at Stan, he aimed it at Ford with a look of sadistic pleasure on his face.

"Well!" His pitch climbed erratically. "It's improper to leave a job half-finished, right!?"

Ford looked up, and Stan saw it in his eyes: He was terrified. Stan didn't see the obstinate jerk anymore, he saw the brother he knew before everything went wrong; scared and needing Stan to come save him.

Growling angrily, Stan threw himself at Bill's arm. Baiting the reaction Bill slashed him across the side of the neck, dangerously close to the larger veins. Warmth dripped down from the wound, and before he could address it Bill punched him in the face. His nose made a nauseating cracking noise. By the time he looked up the barrel of the gun was at his temple.

In desperation to save Stan, Dipper grabbed the closest thing—a bottle of what else, rum—and threw it hard at the back of Bill's head, just like Wendy had taught him with throwing axes. It shattered on impact stunning him briefly and soaking his hair and clothes in alcohol. Dipper saw Stan's eyes light up as he used the opening to get back on his feet and resume the duel amongst the clanging swords of a hundred other fighters.

Stan kept backing, letting Bill think he was retreating. Letting the smug monster think he was winning. But Stan wasn't retreating, he was leading.

His neck bled sluggishly and his nose throbbed. With each lunge and parry, flashes of pain shot through his injured arm. But he was riding high on adrenaline and pushed through. He was almost there. He couldn't trip on the finish line.

At the edge of his vision Stan saw the flicker of a lantern and knew he'd done it. But he couldn't breathe out just yet. He slashed at Bill and on the backstroke hooked his blade through the ring holding up the lantern. Bringing it back around, he beamed Bill over the side of his head with it.

The protective glass shattered. Burning oil splattered out, and the alcohol in Bill's hair ignited.

Bill shrieked.

It was louder than he'd screamed when Stan stabbed him. Impossibly loud, far more than the earlier canonfire. Feeding on the layers and layers of cloth and the flammable liquid his entire body was consumed by fire. But to everyone's shock and horror, he didn't stop fighting. Even Stan, after thirty years of seeing the atrocities Bill left in his wake, couldn't help the terror and disbelief that gripped him.

The screaming and the ghastly display was enough to halt literally all activity on deck. Friend and foe alike could all do nothing but watch, unable to tear their eyes away and seemingly forgetting the battle that had been raging just seconds ago.

The only two combatants that remained were Stan and Bill.

Bill kept making lunges, trying desperately to stab Stan and take him down with him. But within a few breaths his body gave out. Even still: As he fell to his knees and the screaming turned to breathless, choking coughs, he kept swinging blindly.

The pain didn't paralyse him. He fought until his body gave out and he finally collapsed forward on deck, charred remains smouldering as Stan looked at him with mixed horror and contempt.

"Is… Is he dead?" Someone asked. Everyone stood as if in a circle around Stan and the fallen captain.

Wendy pushed through the crowd, drawing the sword she'd gotten back at the manor—the one that killed her grandfather—and stabbed the corpse through the back. Soos stood at the edge of the stunned combatants, holding his hands over the childrens' eyes and keeping his own squeezes shut tight.

"Take that you son of a bitch." Wendy kicked at the remains and Stan put a hand on her shoulder, straightening his back and looking out over the two crews imposingly. He stopped as he spotted Pyronica, narrowing his eyes at her. She grinded her oversized teeth against each other, fists clenched tight.

"What are you waiting for you useless cowards keep fighting!" She screamed. Nobody heeded her order. "I'm first mate, without Bill I'm your Captain so God damn obey me!"

Again, nobody moved to follow. Kryptos took a reluctant step towards her with his hands up placatingly, but before he could even try to talk her down something nobody expected happened.

A large explosion rocked The Isosceles.

Mabel and Dipper tore themselves away from Soos cheering jubilantly. Pyronica's shoulders fell and Kryptos retracted his hand.

"Everyone back on board! Save the ship, get the fuck out of here!" She ordered instead, and this time the crew were quick to follow. Maybe they were still too stunned to act, or maybe they felt that—like a chicken without its head—the crew without the captain was no longer a threat. Whatever it was, nobody moved to stop them retreating and with The Isosceles' swift departure everything got eerily silent again.

The hawktopus threw off the fabric over it with Mabel's weight no longer holding it down. It looked at the burnt body and took off after the ship, crying mournfully. Dipper looked at the corpse, and was nauseatingly once again reminded of the one they'd found back with the merchant vessel.

Stan was the first to move again. As he managed to get himself unstuck from the stunned torpor the first thought in mind was to go check on Ford. His brother had his face held in his hands, shivering.

"Ford!"

Stan ran towards Ford, and the sharp yell startled him.

"Don't touch me!" Ford pushed hard, and caught by surprise Stan stumbled and tripped. He fell onto his back and something made contact with his shoulder. He yelled in pain as the searing hot handle of Bill's sword burned through his jacket and into the skin, the triangular emblem branded into his shoulder.

"Captain!" Soos was at his side before he knew it. "Oh no, are you okay, dude!?"

Stan squeezed one of his eyes shut, clenching his teeth and breathing through the pain. Soos helped him back onto his feet.

Ford stared at him uncomprehendingly where he still stood, back pressed against the mast and arms held tight around himself. He shook his head and his eyes were scared.

Putting a hand over his shoulder, Stan moved away from Soos and back towards Ford. Slower this time. His shoulder hurt like hell, for that matter, so did the rest of his body. But he needed to keep pushing through. Just a little longer. It wasn't Ford's fault, he was freaking out.

"Ford…" He made his voice calm and level, a challenge all things considered.

"Don't-" Ford shook his head harder. "Bill, please-"

Stan could see both Soos and Wendy reaching out towards him in concern, but he ignored them. Mabel and Dipper watched worriedly.

"I'm not Bill." Stan said firmly. Taking Ford's hand in his. "Bill is dead."

"Please don't-" Ford tried to pull his hand loose, Stan's words clearly having no effect. "Please don't touch me."

Stan's patience ran out, Ford wouldn't listen, he couldn't listen. So Stan would just have to show him.

He dragged Ford back, taking the back of his jacket despite his fighting and forced him down to face the body.

"Look!" Stan yelled. "He's dead!"

It was harsh, maybe even cruel. But it was the only thing he could think of that might snap Ford out of it. Dragging him back from whatever terrible fantasy he was caught up in by forcing him to stare reality in the ugly, burnt face. It was just tough love.

"Look!" He yelled again, before he hissed in pain and it forced him to sit down as well. He was next to his brother, hand on his back looking down at a man who could never again hurt either of them. He repeated himself, softer this time. Almost as much a reassurance to himself as to Ford.

"He's dead. It's over."

Ford stared uncomprehendingly, before his breath hitched. Stan could feel it all the way through him. The terrifying shadow that had hung oppressively over him for more than half his life had finally dissipated. Bill was gone. Not some terrifying unknowable force of nature, not some unkillable boogeyman, just the absolutely most mundane thing a creature could be—the thing every creature would one day be. He was just a corpse. 

He was just a human.

Somehow, that revelation finally broke something in him. Something he hadn't felt in forever. It was relief, and somehow, it made him cry.

Fiddleford looked at the brothers, meeting Stan's eyes over Ford's shoulders, before beginning to shoo the crew away. Soos and Wendy caught on fast and took charge of the situation, giving orders to assess damages and take care of their dead and wounded. With that, they gently led the children away as well to check over for injuries.

The others dispersed, leaving Ford and Stan and the burnt body.

Ford just wept, as Stan held him.

"It's over."

A safe distance away The Isosceles dropped anchor in a hidden cove. 

Injured and exhausted—with the rest of the crew all bedridden, drunk, or asleep after the disastrous night—Pyronica and Kryptos walked through the ship that was silent like a tomb. Very reluctantly, they approached Bill's cabin.

"I hate this part." Kryptos said unhappily, hugging a thick black book to his chest as he waited for Pyronica to undo the lock and let them inside.

"Just shut up and read." She snapped, clearly in no mood for a conversation.

"Illiterate or no, can't you recite the spell from memory by now? You don't need me here." He argued. Sometimes, being one of the few crewmembers with an actual education was a curse more than a boon. Pyronica glared at him, which was apparently answer enough.

"You know he's going to be in a mood, and I ain't dealing with him alone. Stop stalling."

Entering the room and pushing the rug aside with the kind of confidence that only came from practice they unearthed a plain circle drawn on the floor. Pyronica went straight for one of the drawers on Bill's desk, making an exclamation of disgust as she opened it.

Kryptos looked at her with a questioning 'hmm' halfway through opening the book. "What's wrong? Didn't he put the candles there as usual?"

"Yeah, but he also put a dead rat there." She took the candles and set them out as the circle instructed. "You wanna bet he was saving that for the hawk or himself?"

"Don't get too snappy, he's bound to be listening." Kryptos reminded her indifferently. She lit the candles, took his hands, and after a moment of hesitation, he began to read in perfect Latin.

"Triangulum, entangulum.

Veneforis dominus ventium.

Veneforis venetisarium."

Before their eyes, the room turned grey.

"Sheesh, you sure weren't in a hurry this time."

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

Heyo! Got a question or two. (Or six-)

- Do you ship Mabifica? Or Dipcifica for that matter? I personally like the former more but I'm just imagining Bill's reaction to having to deal with the fact the girl who insulted Mabel is now dating her/her brother.

Actually, even if you ship neither, I just want his reaction the the Pine twins now being friends(?) With Paz.

Would he try to scare her off? Would he warm up to her?

(If you couldn't already tell, Pacifica is one of my favorite characters, just below Mabel.)

- Does Stan and Ford ever get as close as they did at the end of the show? I mean, Ford must be reeling, sure. But.. Do they ever get on that boat?

- Does Bill make an effort to reconcile with Ford? Even just a show of apology?

- And does Ford bond with the twins? Would he just see them as another thing Bill has tainted?

- Also. Are you planning to make fanfiction of this? Or a comic? Or any media that tells the story? It's now become an integral part of my life.

- Last one! What other bonding moments does Bill have with Wendy? We've got the bets, yeah. But is that all?

(I found your au an hour and a half ago, and I'm already this invested. That is absolutely amazing, considering I don't really latch on to things. (Thanks a lot, autism) I love the art, and I love the tidbits. If it ever gets too overwhelming, don't be afraid to take a breather!! ><)

Hello! I shall do my best to answer!

— I’m personally a Dipcifica enjoyer myself! I don’t see them getting together this summer, so it’s less of a dating thing, but Bill would be decent at recognising the signs of a crush forming thanks to Mabel exposure all summer. He’d be completely against it. He’s listing every reason why the Northwests suck to Dipper, all the times Pacifica has done something to make Mabel feel awful! He’s maybe a little dramatic about it, in true Bill fashion, and is taken aback when Mabel insists it’s okay.

Pacifica’s changing, they both say! Mabel fully intends to be Dipper’s wingman!

Bill finds that idea ridiculous. People don’t just change. Humans are known for staying the same once they’ve settled into their body — that’s just how it is.

Pacifica has proven to be the opposite of everything Bill has taught the twins, and so he sees the blooming friendship as a threat and doesn’t like it. It doesn’t help that it’s around the time his fear of changing is at an all time high, so he’s maybe projecting a little onto Pacifica.

He definitely tries to scare her off initially, and when that doesn’t work, he settles with threatening her should she ever make Mabel upset against. His threats are… very intense and it’s clear the issue runs deeper than just Pacifica. He really goes for her insecurities. Honestly, this may be one of his worst moments in front of the twins? Stan ends up having to intervene and try to figure out what’s going on in Bill’s head beyond just being protective over Mabel.

(Pacifica girl I am so sorry)

He doesn’t warm to her per se, not yet, as much as he learns to tolerate her sometimes being around. She does her best to avoid him anyhow.

— Still working out the exact details so I don’t have much to say right now, but yes, he does. A verbal apology from Bill is also kind of a big deal. Like Stan struggles saying Please, and Ford struggles saying thank you, Bill struggles saying sorry.

— Ford does bond with the twins! I think I mentioned in a post a bit ago that Dungeons Dungeons and more Dungeons is like a gateway for their relationship, and it helps Ford become more comfortable around them and vice versa. Though the general unease still lingers at times, Dipper starts to get comfortable asking him more and more questions about Gravity Falls, and Mabel knits him a few sweaters and tries to catch him up on all the pop culture he’s missed etc. Sometimes he snaps at them when he needs space, and he tends to hide behind Stan some days, but they do get to know this new Ford, and begin to get closer to him bit by bit before Summer ends.

I think he does see them as something Bill has tainted, but not in an irreversible way. If anything, it motivates him to try and get to know them more once the initial fear has settled, to try and re-instate himself as Ford Pines, and be their Great Uncle.

— I don’t plan on making a fic or a comic, mainly because I am busy right now and juggling a lot. It just isn’t something feasible for me and I notoriously don’t do well managing long projects. But, I am hoping to do art and maybe mini comics for it, once I defeat my art block and style crisis, perhaps some one-shots too if I can also defeat my eternal writers block. I’m honoured you think that way of it though!!

— They generally have a very positive relationship! Bill is seen as the cooler Stan by her friends, mainly because of the fact he doesn’t really act his age, and happily enables anything they want to do, and so whenever she needs something, she tends to go to him. (“No hard feelings Stan!”) And If Stan taught her how to shoplift, Bill probably taught her how to get away with murder, not that she’d really need that, the thought still counts. They also share similar music tastes, so when Bill’s around the shack, he’ll ask Wendy to blast some AC/DC while they work. He’s also taught her all the ways to get under Stan’s skin, because he knows for a fact she’ll use them.

I think this AU too, he’s the one who showed her the rooftop spot. He encouraged any form of rebelling against the system, even if that means slacking and getting Stan to shout at both of them.

Thank you so much!? That means a lot to hear and I hope you continue to enjoy it!! And I appreciate it, I’m trying to take it slow and answer whatever asks I can and when I can, to avoid getting overwhelmed.

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Stars Aren’t the Only Things That Glitter

A Drifting Stars AU short, collaborating with @clownwry.

2nd, 3rd, 4th.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Grunkle Ford, look out!”

“Mabel, stay back!”

BANG!

“Mabel… MABEL! HOLD ON! I’M COMING! MABEL!”

~~~~~~~~~~

Mabel looked at the blazing fire, trying to pretend to ignore her great-uncles muttering so she might pick up a swear word, be it alien or English was perfectly fine by her. Mabel didn’t pick up any swears, but she did hear the words “reckless” and “irresponsible” and “inconceivable”. The Listening Game did a fair job of distracting her from the pain on her arm and shoulder. Except when Grunkle Ford’s bandages were a little too tight and she would wince at the friction on her burn.

Still muttering through his teeth, his eye glued to the injury through his single-cracked glasses, he did it again, pulling on the bandage a little too hard, this time making Mabel accidentally let am “ouch!” slip past her lips. Ford looked up at her and his expression grew softer and more nurturing. “I’m sorry, my dear, but really, you shouldn’t have done that.”

“They were gonna shoot you…”

“I don’t care.” Ford said firmly. “If I tell you to run, you run. If I tell you to hide, you hide. If I tell you to save yourself and leave me behind, you do so.”

“No.”

The nomadic scientist blinked, slightly surprised by her stubbornness. Only slightly surprised, because she is a Pines, after all. But she is a good kid and in the month they had been traveling the Multiverse, she had never outright defied him like this. “Excuse me?” He wasn’t even stern or angry; he was too surprised (and maybe even a little proud) to properly scold her anymore.

“No. That’s stupid.” Mabel answered, her little cheeks puffed up in determination, her eyes sparkling with the reflection of the fire, a flame of her own in the windows to her soul. “I’ll never leave you behind. We’re a family, we gotta stick together if we’re gonna survive and get home. We need each other. Besides, if the tables were turned, would you leave me behind?”

“That’s an entirely different matter.” Ford said with a small smile on his ruffed-up face; he resumed his work on the burn more gently now and finished wrapping it up, securing the bandage. “I’m old, I’ve lived my life. You take priority.”

“I don’t care.” Mabel said, copying Ford’s exact tone and voice from earlier. The grown man snorted with amusement.

Ford decided to put this little argument on hold, seeing how there was no changing Mabel’s mind right now. And he didn’t want to spend the entire evening rebuking her. “You did do a very good job disarming those hunters. I’m very proud of you.”

Mabel sat up a little straighter and smiled up at Ford. “Thank you.”

Ford smiled at her and stood, moving to his large backpack to fish out the things for tea and dinner, though it would probably only be dried meat and oats. “I’m just glad you’re okay, pumpkin.”

Mabel’s eyes widened as her world was put on pause. She felt like she was being sucked into a time vortex, transported into a memory.

Grunkle Stan was dusting some zombie parts off of his armchair when Mabel was walking by, leaving the kitchen after giving Soos his cure for zombification. Stan noticed that Mabel looked very tired. He smiled at her from her seat, and Mabel ran up to him and climbed into his lap for a big hug.

“Hey, you alright?” Stan asked.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Are you?”

“Oh, I’m fine. I’m just glad you’re okay, pumpkin.” And he gave her a secure squeeze and Mabel happily hugged him back.

Mabel was shoved back into reality, accompanied by a sinking feeling of loss. She missed Grunkle Stan. She missed Dipper. She missed Waddles, and Soos, and Wendy, and the Shack, and Oregon, and California, and Mom and Dad…

Ford turned back to the fire with a kettle and wire-spider in hand, ready to ask Mabel to fetch some water (she always enjoyed being of assistance), but he stopped when he saw her crying with her eyes shut and wiping her cheeks dry with her wrists. Ford was immediately halted and his priorities shifted drastically. Nothing mattered at this moment but making her feel better.

He was swift. Ford scooped up some water from the clean stream into the kettle, then used the wire-spider to hold the kettle over the fire. Giving the water plenty of time to heat up and steam, Ford gently picked Mabel up from her seat on the log, only to hold her close and let her wrap her arms around his neck. He didn’t say a word, being a social-cripple and having no idea what he could say that would make her feel better, so he stayed silent and was simply there for her.

And really, that was all Mabel needed.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning the two humans were lucky to come across a small rustic town in the woods, reminding Ford of the small Tennessee-town Fiddleford grew up in. Except of course there were no humans, but blue-skinned elves with pointy years and the occasional centaur.

Ford had stolen a bit of money from a hunter yesterday, which meant they got to restock on supplies and even buy a cheap breakfast at an outside cafe. Sitting at a table under an umbrella, Ford was going over his plan with Mabel while she munched on her sweetly-cooked purple apples tossed in spices and sugar.

“... so once we reach this cavern here, we’ll reach a very interesting town called Flush Valley. I’ve heard it specializes in building mechanical limbs and prosthetics, but it’s surrounded by rich minerals perfect for building, so we can find what we need easily here. There may even be a day-by-day job I can get to earn a bit of money for food and shelter.”

“I can work, too! Daddy always said I was like a French horse!” Mabel added in excitedly.

Ford chuckled. “We’ll see. I would feel more comfortable if you were working so I could keep an eye on you. Moving on,” The old scientist sipped his strange alien coffee, but it contained caffeine and somewhat resembled his home dimension’s coffee taste, so he drank it. “The way there could be crawling with scavengers. A lot of people come to Flush Valley just barely hanging on by a thread, easy targets for hunting and stealing food and supplies. So we need to keep our guard up for the next two days.”

“Okay.” Mabel said, as nonchalantly as if Ford told her to remember to add milk to a grocery list.

Ford gave her a firmer look and added, “So, if we think we’re being followed, what do we do?”

“We pretend we don’t know and we keep walking calmly.” Mabel replied. “We keep our eyes open for a way to lose them, and where the sneaky-peaky spies are.”

“Very good.” Ford smiled at her. “If we decide to try to lose them, what do we do?”

“Run as fast as we can. If I can’t catch up I get on your shoulders and focus on making them go away, while you get us away.”

“Yes, excellent. What do we do if we decide to confront them?”

“I grab by sling-shot and exploding rocks and hit as many guys as I can. I aim for the knees or feet so they fall and can’t shoot us. Oh, and we stand with our backs to each other so we see everything, together.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself. Now, if we are surrounded and I find a way to escape, what do you do?”

“Make sure you go in so you can lead the way!” Mabel answered with a grin.

“N-No, honey.” Ford said gently with a smile, as if informing a kindergartner that 1+1=2, not 11. “If I find a way to escape, you go first…”

“No,” Mabel said, still smiling as she shook her head. “You go first so I can make sure you’re coming.”

Ford sighed and took another sip of his drink. “Okay, if I tell you to run, you…”

“I grab your hand and run with you, making sure no one gets lost.”

“Mabel, no.”

“Mabel YES!” The girl grinned with determination. “You’re stuck with me, old man! You can’t get rid of me!”

Ford was getting annoyed at this point. He pinched the bridge of his nose, lifting his glasses up slightly, and growled, “I’m not trying to get rid of you, I’m trying to save you!”

Mabel gave him a very serious look and questioned, “By leaving me alone out here?”

“No! I-...” But Ford stopped and bit his lip. His niece did have an excellent point. As much as Ford was willing to do anything to keep her safe, as much as Ford was willing to sacrifice his own life for her’s, that really wasn’t a good idea.

There was a good chance Mabel could survive without him, at least until she found a nice family to take her in (or, somehow, miraculously, Stanley opened the portal and brought her home, but Ford didn’t dare to hope for that). But she was so young and inexperienced in the Multiverse. At least when Ford was first thrown into the chaos he was an adult and was accustomed to weirdness thanks to his six years of researching Gravity Falls. Mabel was extremely resourceful, imaginative, intelligent, and clever. She was also stronger and faster than many would assume. But she was too trusting. Too innocent. So, not to belittle Mabel or underestimate her, but she was right; she needed Ford, and as noble as it would be to exchange his life for her’s if it came down to it, that would also be incredibly stupid and only buy Mabel a little more time until she was captured or enslaved or killed or even worse.

And of course, only someone as people-smart and clever as Mabel could make Ford see that.

He sighed tiredly. “O-... Okay.” Mabel smiled proudly at him. “Okay, I’ll… I’ll try to be more careful.” Ford promised. “I… I just need you to be safe.”

“Don’t worry, I think we do a pretty good job of keeping each other safe.” Mabel complimented, holding out a bite of her fruit on a fork for Ford.

The old man held up a polite hand and declined, but his stomach turned against him and growled, and Mabel frowned at him, giving Ford a deja vu feeling of his mother forcing him and his brothers to eat their vegetables. So Ford smiled and accepted the sweetly cooked fruit. “Yes, I think so, too.”

[mandoalorian]

Return of the Jedi [Max Lord x gn!Reader]

Summary: You and Alistair are heartbroken when you find out opening week tickets for Return of the Jedi have sold out. So Maxwell calls an old friend and organises a special surprise for his little family.

Warnings: food mention

Word count: 2000>

Author’s note: I received a request to write a Maxwell Lord x neurodivergent!Reader from @smoldjarin . They provided me with so much information in regards to autism, stimming, hyperfixations and more. I had so much joy writing this and I hope you find joy in reading it too. I couldn’t have done this without Melissa. I just hope I done it justice. (PS— I wanted to include Melissa’s love for Star Wars in this. I think we all, as Pedro stans, love Star Wars).

Maxwell wanted to pull his hair out. He had no idea what you and Alistair were yapping on about, but, evidently, it was something you both felt very passionate about. He’d seen you enthusiastic like this before, sure, but this was the first time he’d ever seen Alistair so hyped up. His brown eyes were gleaming as he hopped up and down.

“He literally said ‘I am your father!’ you laughed and Alistair let out a long groan.

“Yeah but he’s the bad guy! And the bad guys always lie,” Alistair explained — and that statement alone was enough to make Maxwell frown. ‘The bad guys always lie’ ... Ironic, to say the least. But, Alistair did make an excellent point. “I don’t trust him.”

You giggled and pulled Alistair into your lap. You’d never found it easy, touching people and being so close to them, but Alistair has grown to be an exception. He was like a son to you.

“Well, I suppose all will be revealed next week.” you told the ebony haired boy, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

You and Alistair got along really well, and Maxwell couldn’t be more grateful, but it was the moments when you both babbled on about Star Wars that had him feeling the most clueless. Granted, he hadn’t found the chance to sit through the movies, but he wanted to because he knew how much it meant to you and his son.

He was also made blissfully aware that the third and final instalment of the trilogy was being released next week, because you and Ali couldn’t stop talking about it. Even in the moments when Alistair wasn’t there, you expressed your excitement to Maxwell. He found it endearing though. He loved it when you talked about your interests and current hyper-fixations. Which is why his heart broke when you read the Friday morning paper and found out all the tickets for opening week were sold out.

Max, despite having no interest in Star Wars, was devastated when he saw the look on your face. He especially didn’t want to be the person who had to break the bad news to Alistair.

“I was really looking forward to it.” You mumbled sadly, your eyes fixated on your cereal. You only had a little left to eat, but truthfully, you’d lost all appetite. These movies and this franchise meant the absolute world to you, and now no doubt you’d have the final movie spoiled for you at work or by the television.

“Oh darling,” Maxwell hummed, wrapping his strong arms around you and holding you tight. You relished in his warmth and found yourself getting lost in the comforting scent of his sweet musk cologne. “I know. And I’m sorry,” the silence between you both broke his heart. “Don’t worry honey, I’ll fix this.”

You weren’t sure how he could possibly fix this. There were simply no more seats available in the movie theatres. He couldn’t just spawn in more seats. What Maxwell Lord did have though, was power, influence and money— and when he put his mind to something, he was sure to get it done. You had never met anyone more determined than him.

He didn’t want to leave you that morning, but duty called and he had to go to work. You tried your hardest to push through the day, ignoring this morning’s revelation. You opted to meet up with a friend at the park, and got ice cream. But when you’re friend told you they’d got tickets, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. You deserved these tickets. It just wasn’t fair.

Maxwell was struggling to focus on his work too. He was running out of bright ideas, but he didn’t just want his statement from this morning to be another empty promise. He actually wanted to fix this. He’d do anything to make you and Alistair happy.

Then it struck him. If his life was a kids cartoon, an illuminated lightbulb would’ve popped above his head. He buzzed his assistant, Raquel, into his office.

“Mr. Lord?” she smiled, walking towards his pine wood desk. Maxwell combed his fingers through his golden locks of hair and looked up at the blonde girl.

“Do I know anyone who is in the uh— the new Star Wars movie?” He inquired.

Raquel was expecting some question about the latest oil numbers, or a request for more supplements — so to say she was taking aback by her boss’ query was an understatement.

She thought for a moment. “Well, Harrison Ford has been a long time investor for Black Gold. He attended last year’s charity gala. Do you remember?”

Of course Maxwell remembered. How could one forget about being in the presence of Hollywood A-Lister Harrison Ford? “Harrison’s in Star Wars?” Maxwell quizzed, trying to hide his piqued curiosity. “Bring me his number. I have to make a call.”

———

Maxwell was so excited to get home and share the good news with you and Alistair. You greeted him just as you normally did, with a loving embrace and a gentle kiss.

“How was your day sweetheart?” your boyfriend asked, smoothing out your hair.

You shrugged. “Fine I s’pose,” you told him. “How was work?”

Maxwell’s grin only grew. “Bring Alistair in.” he beamed.

You called for the boy who had been playing with his action figures in his bedroom. His mom had dropped him off about an hour before Maxwell got home. You and Ali snuggled into each other on the crushed velveteen sofa as Maxwell paced backwards and forwards. It wasn’t nervous pacing though, he was bubbling with anticipation.

“I hope you’re all excited for tomorrow night,” Maxwell began, before flashing three pristine Return of the Jedi tickets before yours and Alistair’s eyes. “Because I met with my good friend Han Solo for lunch and he has given us access to a private screening on Sunday night. So we get to see the movie before the rest of the world.”

You felt like you were in a dream. He’d done it. He’d actually fixed it. You didn’t know how and you knew better than to question him, but it didn’t matter because he somehow managed to fix this and it was all to you and Alistair. You’d found it so hard to find someone who loved you for you, who didn’t mind your stims and who encouraged your hyperfixations. But Maxwell was that man and you couldn’t believe how lucky you had gotten.

Alistair bounced up and jumped on his dad, almost knocking him over in the process. Maxwell wrapped his arms around the six year old and picked him up.

“Daddy! Thank you thank you thank you!” he squealed, unable to contain his ecstatic grin. “I had no idea you were friends with Han Solo!”

Maxwell smiled. “Oh yeah, me and Han go way back. I used to co pilot with him on the—“ Maxwell paused for a second as he tried to recall what Harrison told him. He had to get this right. “—Millennium Falcon?”

Both yours and Alistair’s jaw dropped. Gods, he was good at this. Maxwell may have been a brilliant businessman but he was an even better father.

“Does that mean you know Luke and Leia too?” Alistair asked.

“Oh yes.” Maxwell nodded, despite having no idea who Luke and Leia were.

“And Chewbacca?”

Chewbacca? Maxwell thought. What kind of name was that? Never the less he smiled and nodded. “Absolutely.”

“And Artoo and Threepio?”

Maxwell blinked. “Yep.” he replied through gritted teeth.

“Wow daddy,” Alistair hummed, snuggling into his dad’s chest. “I’m so excited.”

Maxwell dropped Alistair the ground and kneeled to his level. “You should put on your jammies and have an early night. That way, tomorrow will come around quicker.”

“Okay!” Alistair agreed enthusiastically before running back into his bedroom.

“And remember Ali!” Maxwell called. He cleared his throat and pointed his finger. “I am your father.”

That was it. That was the last straw. You’d tried your hardest to hold back your laughter as Max humoured his son, but seeing your boyfriend do a Darth Vader impression was something else.

Max sighed and sat down next to you, pulling your body into his lap. “I love you so much, my dear.”

You grinned and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I love you too. I can’t believe you did all of this.” you revealed.

“I always keep my promises.” he replied with the most genuine smile.

———

The movie was a success, and even Maxwell enjoyed it, which was very unexpected.

“I can’t believe Darth Vader was telling the truth,” Alistair sighed, exasperated. It had been a long day for sure, and his cheeks were still rosy with excitement. “I’m so glad Darth Vader isn’t my dad.”

Maxwell tutted.

“But he turned good in the end,” You smiled, taking Ali’s hand. “He saw what truly mattered. He had to save his son.”

Yeah, the parallels between Vader and Luke and Maxwell and Alistair were interesting to say the least.

“Daddy, who was your favourite character?” Alistair asked.

Maxwell thought for a moment. “I liked that guy in the green armour, he was cool. He sorta reminds me of, well, me.”

“Boba Fett?” Alistair quirked an eyebrow. “Oh daddy, no one is as cool as Boba Fett.”

Maxwell feigned a gasp. “Not even your old

man?”

Alistair giggled and rolled his eyes. “I liked the Ewok!” he announced and then tugged on your hand. “Who did you like?”

“I like Leia,” you beamed. “She’s strong and beautiful...”

“Just like you.” Maxwell whispered, brushing his

lips against yours.

The night came to an end and you couldn’t have been happier. As you lay in bed, you thanked Maxwell for all he had done. He was truly the best boyfriend in the world. He loved you so much, and he swore in that moment, as you fell asleep in his arms, that the next promise he’d make would be a promise to himself.

He was going to marry you.

———

Permanent taglist: @paintballkid711 @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell l @ah-callie @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl l @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal l  @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal l @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen  @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja200 @maxiarapamaya @autumnleaves1991-blog @artsymaddie @harrys-stan @kennedywxlsh @cripplingmoon @cheekygeek05 @mrschiltoncat @rye-flower @theamuz @persie33 @sleepylunarwolf @martellthemandalor @pedro-pastel @steeevienicks @rrtxcmt @saphic-susperia @ladyjenny19 @readsalot73 @softmedics @jade10077 @dodgerandevans @planetariumx​ @pascals-cat

[anistarrose]

Summary: Stan finds a recording from a fateful puppet show, a few disjointed memories fall into place, and the Pines family has some tense conversations.

Relationships: Ford Pines & Stan Pines, Dipper Pines & Ford Pines & Mabel Pines & Stan Pines

Characters: Stan Pines, Ford Pines, Dipper Pines, Mabel Pines, Bill Cipher (posthumously)

Set in early September, probably a little less than a week after Dipper and Mabel went home.

(It felt good to write some Stangst again! Title is from Monster Town by Go! Child because when I can't think of titles on my own, I go to my GF playlist for inspo, and that song jumped out at me today)

***

“We should probably bring a backup camera on the boat,” Ford mused, in a tone that made it impossible to tell whether he was talking to Stan or just to himself. “Maybe even multiple backup cameras. There’s no telling what the Arctic climate could do to their circuitry, and people hardly take cryptid reports seriously even with photographic evidence, never mind with just an eyewitness account and an excuse about a broken camera —”

“Easy, Sixer.” Stan set down his fully-packed suitcase at Ford’s feet, satisfied with its contents. “I’ve got a camcorder up in my room, or maybe in — actually, I can’t remember where I decided to keep it, but it’s probably still in the house somewhere. If I can find it, you can add it to your camera horde.”

Ford zipped open Stan’s suitcase, revealing hand-knitted sweaters and Hawaiian shirts in approximately equal numbers, and sighed. “Some brave wardrobe choices you’re making here. Or have you forgotten that the first beach we’re stopping at is in Alaska?”

“Well, someone’s gotta lead the fashion revolution in the Arctic Circle, and it sure ain’t gonna be you,” Stan called as he headed upstairs, provoking a resigned “hrmph” from Ford.

Stan decided to look for the camcorder in his bedroom first — because while his memory still had some scattered gaps, his gut instincts rarely lead him astray, and checking his room had been his first impulse. Sure enough, he found it sitting on a shelf and covered in slightly less dust than the adjacent stack of magazines, just as he ever-so-vaguely remembered it.

“Better make sure this thing works, before Ford declares it too unreliable for yeti hunts or whatever,” he muttered to himself, leaning back onto his bed and fumbling for the power button. The camcorder blinked to life, presenting an interface that was probably hopelessly outdated — but Stan didn’t care, while Ford would have no way of knowing what modern Earth technology looked like.

What’d I even record on this thing anyway? He selected a random video from June, was greeted with his own voice singing the first line of the Stan Wrong Song, and immediately deleted the recording. With a sigh and silent vow to never let Ford learn of the song’s existence, he moved on to a video from July.

Once again, it was Mabel’s handiwork — heh, no wonder I couldn’t remember what I used this thing for, since the kids were always borrowing it from me — but this time, Stan himself wasn’t in frame, though the craft supplies strewn about the living room were enough to stir dormant memories.

“Dipper! Puppet Dipper! Smile for the camera!”

Dipper yawned, then somewhat half-heartedly mimicked the motion using the sock puppet on his hand. “Puppet Dipper’s not really feeling up to it this morning.”

“Did Puppet Dipper stay up too late trying to solve a mystery? Bwap!” The footage blurred as Mabel nudged Dipper with a sock puppet of her own. “Do I need to make him a little puppet-sized pillow?”

“How about… some puppet-sized sunglasses, for a puppet detective?” Dipper suggested.

“Good idea!” Mabel agreed. “Then no one will notice when Puppet Dipper falls asleep standing up!”

Stan shook his head and smiled.

Man, I wish I’d found this back when my memories were still a mess — Mabel kinda skimmed over the whole puppet saga in her scrapbook. Wonder what else got recorded from that week…

He selected the next video chronologically, noticing that it was also the final recording on the device, and the smile vanished from his face.

“You can’t stop me!” It was Dipper’s voice, yet not Dipper’s voice — all fury and arrogance, and the camcorder’s cheap speaker crackled with static, like the voice was too much, too wrong, too alien to properly record and then replicate. “I’m a being of pure energy with NO weaknesses!”

Without a doubt, Dipper’s body was onscreen, but he was staggering towards Mabel with arms twisted at impossible angles. He lunged for the journal in her hands, eyes glinting the same gold color as the emblem of the six-fingered hand —

Stan hit the power button, rolled over on the bed, and buried his face in his pillow as the wave of memories crashed into him.

Brushing off Dipper’s sorry state as sleep deprivation, until the kid collapsed on the way out of the theater. Seeing the cuts and bruises all over Dipper’s hands as Stan helped him to his feet, and grilling the kids on what happened the whole drive to the hospital. Not getting an answer beyond “sleep deprivation.”

Not being able to give the doctor an answer beyond “sleep deprivation.”

Telling the twins’ parents it was just “sleep deprivation.”

A tense phone call, assuring Mr. and Mrs. Pines that Dipper’s recovery would be swift and tha Gravity Falls was still safe for their children. Stan’s hands shaking as he holds the phone, having no idea if that’s the truth, if he’s doing the right thing.

Mabel crying over a crumpled-up scrap of paper — a note? — she’d found in the car, and refusing to show it to Stan. Half-overheard secrets, whispered between the younger twins when they think Stan isn’t paying attention — apologies, worries, and murmurs too soft to be in any way decipherable.

Dipper, still with bags under his eyes, spending the next few days doing almost nothing but looking over his shoulder and burying his head in the journal. Stan pretending not to notice, but secretly finding it far too familiar for comfort.

Later memories, too — memories of demons, and handshakes, and feeling his body go numb. Memories of a voice, a furiously shrieking voice — both terrified and terrifying, but more than anything, alien.

Now, far too late, Stan recognized it.

***

“We’re calling the kids,” Stan barked, barging back downstairs, and Ford jumped.

“What’s wrong? Are your memories —”

“Better than they’ve ever been, actually.” Stan stormed directly to the living room table, flipping open the laptop on loan from Soos and clicking the video chat app. “Good enough to figure out something that apparently no one thought it might be important to tell me!”

“Are you sure?” Ford put a hand on Stan’s shoulder. “We can still call them, but let’s talk this through first, make sure you’re not missing any gaps —”

Stan paused, cursor an inch away from the call button beneath Dipper and Mabel’s profile picture. “Did Dipper tell you about the time Bill possessed him?”

Ford started to say something, stopped, and tried again. “I… I assumed you knew. I’m sorry.”

“Did you know I ended up taking him to the goddamn hospital afterwards?”

“No,” Ford whispered, and Stan felt Ford’s fingers dig into his shoulder. “Call the kids, Stan.”

Mabel must’ve been online, because she picked up almost immediately. The video opened with her sitting in her kitchen in Piedmont, Waddles in her lap. “Grunkle Stan! Grunkle Ford! Guess what I —”

The joy drained out of her smile when she noticed her grunkles’ grave expressions. “What’s going on?”

“Mabel, pumpkin,” Stan murmured, trying to tune out the sound of his heart thumping in his chest, “could you go get your brother?”

“I’m here, I’m here!” Dipper slid into view, almost falling off his chair, and Mabel scooted out of the way so they could both comfortably face the laptop. “Is something wrong?”

“Not anymore,” Ford explained, “but Stan and I wanted to talk about… communication, among other things — Stan? Are you sure you’re alright?”

Stan wiped the sweat from his forehead and shuddered, forcing himself to take a deep breath as he stared at the computer.

Dipper’s back home. Dipper’s safe. They’re both safe, and they’ll never have to worry about Bill again.

“Stanley?” Ford echoed, increasingly distressed. “Please, if —”

“I’ll be alright,” Stan managed, because even he wasn’t a good enough liar to convince anyone he was alright at this exact moment. “Promise. But kids, why didn’t you tell me when Bill hijacked your puppet show?”

Dipper and Mabel exchanged a guilty look.

“Was it because you thought I’d take away the journal?” Stan regretted his ‘only self-defense’ stipulation for the third journal more than almost anything else he’d said that summer, because he’d always known deep down that it wouldn’t stop the kids — and in hindsight, he would’ve much rather known what trouble the kids were getting into, not have them hide it from him with their late nights out in the woods and nonspecific excuses.

“At first,” Dipper replied. “But we ended up worrying a whole lot more about you sending us home early —”

“Your parents almost made that decision for me,” Stan admitted. “They were ready to drive up here and come get you when they heard what happened. I dunno how I convinced them to let you stay —”

He sighed. “And maybe knowing the truth wouldn’t have actually helped me that time — but it would’ve been nice to know how big a lie I was telling when I told them this town was safe for you kids, y’know?”

He regretted voicing that thought immediately, but regretted it even moreso when Dipper looked away from the camera, mumbling: “I’m sorry, Grunkle Stan.”

“Stan’s not trying to guilt you,” Ford spoke up, “but we want you to know you can talk about these things honestly with us — and that goes for both of you, Dipper and Mabel. We’d never want to punish you for something that was obviously… someone else’s fault.”

Thank god one of us has finally learned to think through what we say before we say it, Stan figured.

“I’m sorry too, kids,” he added out loud. “For getting angry at you a minute ago — ‘cause I’m not angry at you, I’m angry at Bill for what he got away with right behind my back, and I… I just…”

He brushed a finger across their digital faces, a gesture that no doubt failed to translate to the video feed Dipper and Mabel were viewing, and smiled. “Thanks for picking up so fast, ‘cause I really needed a reminder that the two of you are safe and sound and all.”

The kids smiled back, visible for just a second before Mabel leaned forward to hug her laptop and the screen went dark.

“Anytime, Grunkle Stan.”

***

“Coffee?” asked Ford, ever the early riser, as Stan trudged into the kitchen the next morning. “You look like you need it.”

“Gee, thanks, Sixer,” Stan groaned, slumping into the seat across from Ford at the kitchen table. “I’ve heard of backhand compliments, but now I’ve gotta live with your backhanded coffee offers too?”

“Sorry. I’m sympathizing, not mocking — I promise, when I woke up today, my eyes were just as bloodshot as yours are now,” Ford replied, sliding Stan a mug of steaming coffee. “How are your memories?”

It was a routine question as of late, but Stan still managed to botch it completely.

“Too good,” he muttered under his breath, and earned a quizzical look from Ford.

“Pardon?”

“…Good enough that I can remember all kinda things to feel shitty about,” Stan reluctantly admitted. “Like not even noticing when Dipper was possessed, for one thing. I spent the whole summer worrying about him, except for when he was actually in danger —”

“Oh, Stanley,” Ford sighed, “that’s not your fault. You know Bill was an expert liar; he scammed too many people to count —”

“Yeah, but I shoulda seen through it!” Stan brought his fist down on the table, and the contents of his mug sloshed precariously close to the top. “Of all people, I should’ve known better —”

“Right.” Ford grimaced. “Right. Because no one else who should’ve known better was ever tricked by a dream demon for a whole lot longer than a few hours —”

“Shit. Ford, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it like —”

With a controlled glowering expression and deliberate motions, Ford stood, marching across the kitchen with all the fury and hesitation of a slow-moving thunderstorm.

“I didn’t mean it was your fault! I’d never — ”

“…I know.” Ford came to a halt at the door, bracing one hand against the frame. “But if you can say as much about me, then… then why can’t you just say that about yourself?”

“What?!”

“You would’ve caught on soon enough, if Mabel hadn’t defeated Bill when she did — I wasn’t there, but I’m sure of that because I know you, and I know how well you know Dipper.” Ford shook his head. “I didn’t catch on to Bill’s lies for years. I gave him free reign to hurt people for so much longer than one evening —”

He crossed his arms, and his imposing silhouette in the doorway seemed to shrink.

“So if you’re not blaming me for anything to happen this summer, then you’d better not blame yourself, you — you knucklehead.”

“Are you kidding me?” Stan leapt out of his seat. “It’s no wonder you didn’t see through Bill’s lies, when your whole life, you had me watching your back — and then I wasn’t there for you, when you needed me more than ever —”

“Because I pushed you away!” Ford shouted, whirling back around to face him. “Do you know what I realized while I was trying to fall asleep last night? That if I’d just stood up to Dad when he kicked you out, if I’d just done the right thing for once in my formative years, then the end of the world as we knew it would’ve been averted altogether! No falling for Bill’s flattery, no arguing over the zodiac, no Weirdmageddon! We could’ve had it all, but we just couldn’t live in that better world, all because I convinced myself you were suffocating me —”

“But it sounds like maybe I still am, huh?” Stan growled. “If all I do is just make you furious like this —”

“No,” Ford gasped, all the hostility in his voice and his glare immediately melting away. “No, no, absolutely not! I’m not furious at you, Stan, I’m…”

“Furious at yourself,” Stan accused, “for being even worse than me?!”

“No! Don’t even say that!”

Before Stan could process what was happening, much less protest it, Ford was hugging him, burying his face in Stan’s shoulder.

“Maybe — maybe I am angry at you, after all,” Ford admitted, “but you’re my hero, Stanley. My inspiration. If am angry with you, it’s — it’s just because you’re too damn stubborn to forgive yourself…”

Stan gingerly placed a hand on Ford’s shoulder. “…Yeah, and you’re one to talk.”

“I won’t deny that,” Ford mumbled. He went quiet for a few seconds, and when he spoke up again, his voice was quieter, yet slightly more composed. “Maybe we need to just… call a truce. Find something positive to agree on. We’re both too stubborn for this argument to end with either of us admitting we were wrong —”

“At least for give-or-take the next forty years,” Stan interrupted, punctuating his words with a bitter laugh.

Ford barked out a laugh of his own, loud and cathartic, and withdrew from the hug, removing his glasses to rub his eyes. “If Dipper and Mabel were here, they would have told us to stop being stubborn old men a while ago. I wish they were here.”

“They’d probably also tell us it’s more Bill’s fault than either of ours,” Stan added. “And… I guess they’d have a point.”

“I can see the logic in that.” Ford smiled faintly. “I’m sorry for making this about me, by the way. You opened up to talk about your own issues, and I —”

“Hey, I made it about you just as much as you did, Brainiac,” Stan reminded him. “…But damn. You think we’ll ever be able to talk about our feelings without shouting our lungs out at each other?”

“We’re still no good at thinking through anything before we say it,” Ford replied, “though I guess we must be getting a little better, since we didn’t even stop speaking to each other this time.”

“Thank god. I’m tired of not talking to you.”

The two of them settled back into their seats at the table, and Stan reached for the morning paper, but Ford spoke up once more.

“I know forgiveness, especially self-forgiveness, can be… complicated,” he told Stan in a low voice, “so maybe I’m biased, speaking as someone who’d rather not grapple with my own personal guilt — but even more important than whether you forgive or blame yourself, I think, is acknowledging that you made mistakes, yet still deserve good things from the universe. And that goes for you and me both.”

Stan took a sip from his mug, pleased to find its contents were still warm. “Good things like coffee, and adventures sailing around the world?”

Ford chuckled. “My priorities exactly.”