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huginsmemory · 7 months ago

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On ad astra per aspera ✨

Can we talk about the repeated use of ad astra per aspera? Cause uhhhh it shows up twice, once on the website and once in the Book of Bill, and OH BOY this has connotations, both for Bill and Ford's relation in the literal and figurative meaning on the word, and for Bill's own history:

(extra addition added 16/09/2024! 🌝 )

First, in the website (if I recall correctly) if the phrase ad astra per aspera is inputted into the computer, you get the two pages on Bill's 'funeral':

And within, in the pages, at the very end before signing there names is the phrase itself (highlighted in red) .

Secondly, a joke version of it is seen in the Book Of Bill, specifically on the night where Bill and Ford fucked 'one thing led to another':

In this one, it's clearly a joke off of aspirin used for his hangover, used again to close the entry.

Now the phrase ad astra per aspera itself means 'through suffering to the stars', which also has... wider connotations then just these two piece alone, which I'll unpack later. But first, the interesting choice of connection of these two pieces;

Both times the phrases occur, they occur closing the entry; a bit too much of a coincidence to me (and in this fandom there is no such thing as a coincidence). Considering that the 'one thing led to another' night is a night that was important to their relationship as it hints at the intimacy they had with each other, it showing up again in Ford's 'funeral' entry about Bill feels very much like an allusion to that night. Especially considering in the funeral entry Ford is very open about how much he cared about Bill, with how he at one point "considered him the centre of his life". The entry from Ford reads as someone who is moving on, and part of this is acknowledgement of the grief and sadness for the more positive part of the abusive relationship that he lost. As a result, having him acknowledge the intimacy of their relationship, it makes sense for him to tongue in cheek allude back to his first writing down of the phrase, where they were quite clearly implied to fuck be intimate.

While it alludes to their Bill and Ford's intimacy, the literal and metaphorical meaning of the phrase also rings true here; through suffering to the stars. If we talk literally, then through Ford's relationship with Bill, something that ultimately was full of suffering, he built the portal, and ended up wandering the myriad worlds out there in space; one may say out there among the stars. He literally was out there wandering the stars as a result of suffering.

Now metaphorically, the phrase means through suffering/adversity one gains beautiful/worthwhile things. Considering this entry is Ford moving on from Bill, this is very apt; again, their relationship caused Ford immense suffering, and as he is now letting that relationship and suffering go, he's instead prioritizing creating healthy relationships with Stanley, the other twins and Fiddleford (the something beautiful and worthwhile part!). In fact, the entry on Bill's funeral is half on him strengthening his relationship with Mabel, the shooting star, another layer of wordplay; case in point about the healthy relationships. He's weathered through his abusive relationship, to discover and create a loving family.

It doesn't quite end there however; although that's fairly it for specifically Ford and Bill's relationship, we also haven't talked about what the stars mean to Bill himself. Which, well; it's very clearly implied that Bill accidentally killed everyone in his dimension in an attempt to show his parents (and other people in his dimension) the stars. And on top of that, to quote; "I looked up and saw the stars. And I was ready to become one of them". Which he then in a way, becomes, considering the page in journal 3 on constellations, in which Ford remarks that one of his favourite constellations is the constellation 'William' (obviously Bill). It's a bittersweet immortalization of himself after everything that occurs around trying to see the stars for Bill.

So I find it very interesting that for Ford, a phrase about suffering and stars is something he ends up correlating to his relationship with Bill, considering that to Bill, to get to the stars is something he deeply suffered for as a result. It's also important to note that Bill's suffering was something that occurred out of love, and ultimately an attempt to be understood and create a deeper relationship with his parents where they could trust him. And then for Ford, all this while later, to look up to the stars (to see them) and to see the Bill constellation and go 'oh that's one of my favourites' is fulfillment. Because Ford during that time trusted and cared deeply for Bill, fulfilling that relationship of trust, love and understanding(at least surface level, considering the way they banter together), that Bill had yearned for when he was younger and killed his plane.

So all in all(tldr): ad aspera per astra, (through suffering the stars), is quite the fun phrase to unpack in regards to Bill and Ford's relationship, considering the deliberate reference to the phrase on the entry about the night 'where one thing led to another' and Bill's funeral entry. The phrase is a combination of references; tongue in cheek allusion to the intimacy, but also references to the literal (space fugitive) and figurative (abusive relationship, to loving family again pipeline) hardships Ford endured as a result of the relationship. There is also irony in the way that Ford seems to correlate this phrase about suffering and stars with Bill and his relationship, considering that out of an effort to be understood and share the stars with his parents, Bill accidentally killed his whole dimension; later he also made a constellation of himself. As well, as Ford says that one of his favourite constellations is a constellation that's clearly Bill in Journal 3, it alludes to that Bill's wish to show his parents the stars and be recognized is fulfilled by Ford (pre-portal incident that is).

EDIT: extra details added on the constellation piece as of Aug 14 2024 (less than 24 hours after og posting, because I'm deranged). Big thanks to @bowl-o-nudel for the nudge :)

Edit (16/09/2024): I've had a few people say that the saying has appeared in Journal 3 multiple times, and having reread journal 3, to my delight it is indeed correct! And oh the CONTEXT they give. The two instances are those seem below; the first appearance in the title page of Journal 3, and second time is a page from when the twins graduate.

As well as all the parallels of how the phrase is applied for both Bill and Ford, as @zoizyboigy suggested, it seems to be a phrase that Ford takes as his own motto. It seems to be a highly personal motto to him; after all, they all are written around important turning moments in Ford's life; graduating, the journals which where to be his ticket to fame, fucking a triangle finding acceptance and intimacy with Bill , and lastly, moving on in his life from Bill and his destructive obsession with recognition.

And it makes sense WHY this motto is one that is highly personal to Ford; the first time it is seen chronologically is when he's graduating, chosen when he believes he's going to be accepted into the university. It's a motto he chose because he was excited, because he thought he was already through his suffering and arriving to the stars of his fancy university, where validation and acceptance would abound; only that doesn't happen, and the suffering part within the motto is the only thing that's accurate, especially as that's when he rejects Stan. It's a motto chosen in celebration, that becomes a reminder of the failure to become someone who is accepted and important (and his prioritization of validation over relationships); it's now something he holds that reminds him of the validation he believes he deserves and he obsessively chases.

And that's why you see it in the journal pages, because these journals are going to change his life, he's going to become finally a person of importance and be accepted with the information he's compiled in the journals. And in the same way, you see it after Bill (and interdimensional being of ancient knowledge) and him are intimate; he's become someone of importance to Bill, he's been accepted by Bill, even attractive to Bill (romance Ford seems to have terrible luck in).

And that's why you see it at the end of Ford's farewell to Bill; it's another turning point, it's Ford letting his obsession with world validation go which characterized it's meaning from the beginning, Ford letting go of his relationship with Bill, which it also came to mean, and instead celebrates his acceptance within his family and the strengthening of those bonds, and of prioritizing healthy, loving relationships.

Ps, if you enjoyed this meta post, I've also made another one, on exceptionalism!

#gravity falls #the book of bill #bill cipher #stanford pines #gravity falls stanford #ford pines #meta analysis #hugin rambles #billford #journal 3 #im soooo normal about them #like fuck man bill you fumbled him so hard after finally experiencing a fufilling relationship? damn #a wee edit whoops #thisisnotawebsitedotcom #hugin rambles gf

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lkfarrout · 5 months ago

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Why Stan Had to Get His Memory Back

For many of the episodes of Gravity Falls, there is a pattern where the physical supernatural beast or conflict being dealt with matches directly to some internal conflict that the character has.

Examples:

In Double Dipper, Dipper wants to dance with Wendy but is getting in his own way with his overthinking and his list. This is shown physically by clones of himself turning on him.

In Carpet Diem, both twins are struggling to see from the other’s perspective and be more courteous with how they share a living space. They are physically forced to switch bodies to learn more about the other’s experiences.

In Scary-oke, Dipper struggles to trust Stan and feels that Stan’s goal to protect him from the supernatural is unfair and unnecessary. Dipper then summons a bunch of zombies to prove a point. Him and Mabel must then rely heavily on Stan’s help to escape the zombies, and team up with him to finally defeat them.

Most character development in the more stand-alone episodes follows this format, but it’s harder to catch with the series-spanning character arcs like Stanley’s.

But before we get into that, one more less-obvious example:

Fiddleford’s internal conflict while working with Ford is that he had many traumatizing experiences that were causing him to suffer. But instead of having time and loving people around him to help him work through it, he had Ford continuously pushing him to work harder and finish the portal. This required him to suppress his feelings and pretend that those bad experiences did not exist.

This is physically manifest by his creation of the memory gun. Which, in my opinion, does not completely erase memories in the way that Fiddleford intended and believed that it did. Instead, it only suppresses them. The memory gun takes whatever is written on it out of the person’s conscious mind and pushes it deep into their subconscious mind. Fiddleford still suffered the effects of his trauma - the fear, the paranoia - he only forgot the cause. And it drove him to insanity.

But when Dipper and Mabel help him remember, and when Ford finally apologizes for all that he did, Fiddleford is able to bring those feelings back to the surface and begin to work through them while surrounded by people that care about him. Ford explains in the journal that all of this helped Fiddleford begin to slowly return to his old self again.

So, knowing that the memory gun only suppresses memories, let’s finally talk about Stanley:

When Bill first entered Stan’s mind while he was sleeping, he was inside of Stan’s subconscious mind, which contained all of his old memories and feelings and experiences. But when Bill enters Stan’s mind when he’s awake, he’s in his conscious mind - what Stan was currently thinking about at that moment. Which was, essentially, himself and Bill. His focus was entirely on himself defeating Bill. If, in order to be a hero, Stan’s conscious sense of self had to physically be erased along with Bill, what internal conflict of Stan’s does this represent?

Stan’s whole life he felt like a screw-up. Like a bad guy that would never be worth anything. That’s who he felt Stanley Pines was. So, in order to be a hero for his family, he felt that everything he used to be had to go away. He had to repress all of his past mistakes and screw-ups in order for his family to see him as a hero. He could not be both a hero and Stanley Pines because Stanley Pines was not a hero.

Once Bill is gone, Stanley is a hero, but he isn’t Stanley Pines anymore. Until Mabel and the rest of the family start to talk about how wonderful he used to be. How the old Stanley wasn’t a screw up. How everything that he used to be was wonderful and good and they loved him for it - all of it. Once Stan accepted that he could be both a hero and be himself and be all of his past and be loved for it and not have to suppress it - it all came back. It came back because he realized he’s loved and accepted by others and he could finally accept himself.

That’s why Stan had to get his memory back.

#gravity falls #stan pines #stanley pines #grunkle stan #fiddleford mcgucket

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millenianthemums · 24 days ago

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Chapter 6 of Mabel’s Guide to the Power of Friendship is up!!

Writing this one took me a while, and then the art also took a while… everything took a while. i always enjoy writing this once i get to it, though! hope you enjoy this one too.

INDEX

chapter text under cut:

It was hard for Mabel to really relax, knowing that Bill was lurking just below the floorboards. But by the time the sun was low and her family was gathered around the dinner table, she’d mostly put it out of her mind. It was hard to be miserable with them around.

“You think Soos will bring more empanadas when he’s here tomorrow?” Dipper asked, picking at the strangely opalescent casserole on his plate.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were insinuating something about my cooking,” Ford said wryly.

“Whaaat? No! No, don’t be– that’s ridiculous,” Dipper said. “This is great! I mean, it’s a million times better than last time, this one didn’t even come to life and attack us–”

“Don’t jinx it,” Stan said.

“Hey, c’mon, guys,” Mabel piped up. “It’s the thought that counts, right? It’s really sweet that he tried. Besides, even Grunkle Ford can’t be perfect at everything.”

Ford chuckled. “Thank you, Mabel. As far as backhanded compliments go, that’s quite nice.”

“It’s true!” she said. “So what if you’re not a chef? You invent, like, six magical contraptions a week!”

“That’s a wild exaggeration,” Ford said with a grin. “It’s been at least a month since the last one. Although Fiddleford and I have made some real progress on our current project…”

“New project?” Dipper perked up. “What is it?”

“Oh, I don’t know if the details will interest you that much–”

“Shaaare!” Mabel demanded. Dipper immediately joined in, both of them pumping their fists and shouting “Share! Share! Share!” until Ford laughed and gave in. They all knew he didn’t really need that much encouragement, but it was fun anyway.

“Alright, alright! I’ll tell you.” Ford waved his hands to set the scene, the way he always did when he started talking about science stuff. “So, we all know that unicorn tears have remarkable healing properties, right? But we also know that unicorns aren’t generous creatures, and trying to obtain some tears by force often creates more injuries than they could ever heal.”

Stan snorted. “And how many tries did it take for that lesson to set in?”

“Not the topic, Stanley. Anyway, our goal was to synthetically recreate the healing properties of the tears, eliminating the need to seek out the real thing. This has been in the works for a long time; in fact, our biggest breakthroughs came from studying the sample Mabel and her friends obtained last year…”

Dipper extended a fist to Mabel, and she proudly bumped it.

“...And I must say, we’ve had some very promising results with the latest prototypes! There have been some hiccups here and there– we really should have fireproofed the lab sooner– but I think in the next few weeks, we might even end up with something that could surpass the healing properties of unicorn tears!”

“Nice!” Mabel held out a fist to Ford. “Take that, you overrated horses!”

Ford laughed, accepting the fist bump. Stan clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Here’s hoping you get it workin’ before we set out again. It’d make things way less stressful on the boat. Heck, the coast guard medics might even have time to forget our names!”

“Wait, you’re setting out again?” Dipper asked. “When?”

“End of the summer, same as you kids!” Stan said proudly. “First thing in September, we’re headed right back out there.”

Ford nodded. “We still have a lot more to investigate. I expect we’ll be very busy once Fall comes around, which is why I’m under strict orders to ‘take it easy’ while we’re here. Otherwise, the elixir would probably be finished by now–” Stan crossed his arms, and Ford quickly added “--but I completely understand the point of it. Rest is important, kids.”

“Darn right,” Stan grunted. “Far as I’m concerned, we’re both on vacation for the summer.”

Dipper tapped his fork on his chin. “So you won’t be studying Gravity Falls for a while?”

“C’mon, brobro,” Mabel chided. “Grunkle Ford’s willingly taking a break for once, let’s not remind him of all the extra stuff he could be doing!”

“That’s not what I meant!” Dipper protested. “I’m just saying…”

“It’s a fair question,” Ford said. “There certainly are plenty of mysteries left unsolved around here. But I think Stanley and I have broadened our focus a bit too much to give special attention to Gravity Falls anymore. Just our brief stay in the Arctic Circle alone has raised so many fascinating questions, and we still have so many more places to investigate… there’s just not enough time to solve all the world’s mysteries, I’m afraid.”

“Hey, relax, Poindexter,” Stan cut in, shoving Ford’s shoulder. “We’re not the only ones working on this stuff. Something tells me Gravity Falls’ll be in good hands, even without us.” He gave Dipper a meaningful wink. Mabel couldn’t help but smile at the way her brother’s face lit up.

“Hey, guys?” Dipper asked, leaning back in his chair and trying to seem subtle. “Can we talk after dinner? I was hoping to get some feedback on this project I’m working on…”

Mabel’s smile faded. “Is it about that dumb thesis contest?” She turned to the Grunkles and pointed accusingly at Dipper. “He won’t let me help with it! He wouldn’t shut up about how cool it would be to win and get a big smarty-pants paper published, and now that he’s allowed to start working on it he won’t even tell me what it’s gonna be about! I could have done like fifty illustrations by now if—”

“I told you, there’s nothing to share yet!” Dipper protested. “I’ve… kinda been putting it off. I’ve still got a week until the topic proposal’s due…”

“Then what do you need Stan and Ford’s ‘feedback’ on?”

Dipper tugged at his shirt collar. “Uh… it’s…”

“I could help,” she said, voice a little louder than she’d wanted. “Even if it’s something I’m bad at, I could help make it look cool. If you just told me a little bit about it…”

Dipper sighed. “Look, Mabel, I promise I’ll share it with you soon, okay? I just… I want it to be a surprise.”

Mabel looked at him doubtfully over the rim of her water glass. She wanted to keep prying, but it was clear she was just making him uncomfortable. He didn’t want her help, he just didn’t know how to say it. She could tell.

“Okay,” she said, trying not to sound hurt. It was fine, really. She had high-speed bike riding; Dipper was allowed to have things just for himself too. It was normal for twins to grow apart. She drained the rest of her glass and stared down at the tablecloth.

An awkward silence hung in the air for a moment. Then Stan spoke up. “Speaking of surprises. Hey Sixer, remember that thing we ran into off the coast of Greenland in March?”

Ford laughed. “How could I possibly forget? Now, kids, I don’t know about you, but nothing in my paleontology education gave me the impression that wooly mammoths were aquatic…”

Soon Mabel was too wrapped up in seafaring stories to be sad about anything.

——-

Bill must have fallen asleep at some point. He’d been lying there, in the basement, in the dark, with the Pines’ infernal voices ringing above him, but then something had happened. The voices changed. And suddenly he wasn’t in a basement anymore. He was lying on an exam table, and his arms were strapped down, and his eye wouldn’t close, and the air was thick with antiseptic. And there were voices all around him, moving around him, but he knew he couldn’t look, he just had to keep his eye focused on the stars overhead, just don’t look, just don’t look at them, just pretend they’re not there, pretend you’re among the stars and nothing’s happening, nothing hurts. So he didn’t look away, not even when the quiet voices he could hear through the pain changed again, became painfully familiar, he still didn’t look, even when they started screaming, even when their cries and pleading were drowned out by the sounds of flames, even when the heat waves twisted the air and the crunching, sizzling, tearing sounds and the smell of burning meat drowned out all his other senses he still didn’t look, he didn’t look down, he wouldn’t–

And then he was back in the basement. It was dark and still. The only sound was his own ragged breathing.

He sat up and scrubbed at his face with the blanket he’d been wrapped in. Dreams. He hadn’t been ready to deal with dreams. Other people’s dreams were a riot. Not his own.

He’d been distracted too quickly to dwell on the last one. He’d foolishly hoped that would be the last one for a while. But no, of course not. This world couldn’t allow him even a moment of peace. Every sleep was going to be like this.

In the dark, he staggered to the small bathroom in the back of the room. He ran the cold water in the sink and rinsed his mouth until he forgot the taste of the smoke. It was so vivid. So convincing. Even though none of it had made any sense, it felt real.

He stared numbly at the mirror. Their voices. He’d remembered them, of course. Despite all the worlds that had sprouted and withered between then and now, despite everything he’d tried, he’d never been able to stop remembering them. But he never thought he’d have to hear those voices again.

Someone knocked at the door.

His first thought was “thank god”. He’d been desperately hoping for anything else to think about. His second thought, as he heard the door unlock, was “that could be anybody”. So he stood just at the edge of the room and prepared to run for cover, until a small, high-pitched voice said “It’s me.”

Bill relaxed a little. Not a lot, but more than zero. He scrubbed his face dry and straightened his bowtie before she entered, trying to look as stoic as possible. She didn’t seem to notice anything amiss as she rushed in and slumped against the door to shut it. Both her hands were busy carrying an overloaded paper plate.

Trying her best to not let it fold under the weight of the food piled onto it, she glanced around for a surface to place it on. The curved lid of the wooden chest was considered, then quickly rejected when the plate started sliding. She winced before resorting to setting it down on the floor beside the beanbag. Finally, she retrieved a packet of plastic utensils from a takeout place and laid it beside the plate, trying to make it look presentable.

“We need to get a table or something in here,” she muttered as Bill drew closer to inspect the offering.

“YEAH, SOME APPLIANCES WOULD BE NICE TOO,” he joked. “I’M THINKIN’ A STUDIO APARTMENT KIND OF SETUP. WASHER AND DRYER OVER THERE, THAT CORNER’S THE KITCHEN… FULL-SIZE JACUZZI ON THAT SIDE, OBVIOUSLY…”

“I have six dollars,” Mabel piped up.

Bill laughed before he could stop himself. Encouraged, she went on: “I mean, there’s an empty fish tank and a car battery in the garage. We could make a hole in the side and stick a blowdryer in there for a jet. That’d be fine, right?”

He laughed again. “I LIKE WHERE YOUR HEAD’S AT, KID. IF WE SHUT OFF THE SPRINKLERS, WE COULD SET UP A FIRE PIT IN THE KITCHEN CORNER!”

“Perfect plan!” Mabel laughed along with him, but then seemed to think better of it. “But okay, hold on, we can start with the home renovations later. For now, you should eat.” She pointed to the plate. “It’s just some leftovers from tonight. Figured taking more snacks would look suspicious. But if it, uh… disagrees with you… then just let me know tomorrow.”

That wasn’t a glowing review. Looking dubiously at the alleged “food” on the plate, he didn’t see much reason to doubt it. Still, he tried to look grateful as he picked up a plastic fork. “WILL DO,” he said, trying not to look down.

“I’ll come back down tomorrow, before the others wake up,” she said, crossing back over to the door. “Including Grunkle Ford… ugh, that’s gonna suck. But once I’m back, we’ll figure out a plan, okay?”

Bill glanced around the room. “I THOUGHT THIS WAS THE PLAN,” he said.

“C’mon, you can’t just stay in one tiny dark room all summer! This isn’t Guacamole or something.”

Bill snorted. “GUANTANAMO?”

“Whatever,” she said, flushing. “The point is we need to get you outside once in a while. You have scales, things with scales need sunlight or they get sick. And what’s the point of all this work if you get sick and die??”

She had a point there. Bill shifted uncomfortably, realizing he wasn’t totally sure if the sun thing would apply to him or not. “YEAH, FAIR ENOUGH. KEEP FORGETTING THIS…” he gestured to the body, “…THING NEEDS ‘VITAMINS’ AND SUCHLIKE.”

“Relatable, honestly. But there’s a bunch more stuff to plan out, too! We need to be able to contact each other in emergencies. And, like, a secret knock so you know when it’s me, and a code to communicate…” as she spoke, her hands started flapping with excitement. “Oh my gosh, it’s like one of those spy games Dipper likes. We could make a guidebook with all this stuff! Like a, what, codex? For the code? We could make our own code! You can handle that part— I know that’s your thing, it’s literally your name… I get to do all the art, though. It can have a scrapbook vibe— I gotta find my craft scissors with the zig-zags—”

“KID.” Bill cut her off. “I KNOW IT’S IN YOUR NATURE NOT TO TAKE STUFF SERIOUSLY. IT’S A GOOD TRAIT! MAKES LIFE A LOT MORE BEARABLE. BUT THIS ISN’T SOME SILLY SUMMER CRAFT PROJECT. THIS IS LIFE OR DEATH, GOT IT? CAN WE TRY TO ACT LIKE IT’S IMPORTANT?”

She looked hurt. “Silly things are still important,” she muttered. “We could hide it in here. And even if someone finds it, it could be any goofy old thing I made! Dipper showed me how to do that invisible ink thing; I could act like the empty space is just unfinished parts! I dunno, I just… I thought it’d make this whole thing a little more fun.”

Bill squinted at her as she stared at the floor, arms crossed tight over her chest. Then he rolled his eye. Maybe he was being a choosing beggar here. This was Mabel Pines; of course she’d want to make some stupid game out of this. And the whole plan was to humor her. If this was what it took to keep her invested, he should probably just play along.

“OKAY, FINE. I’M IN,” he sighed. “WE CAN MAKE A BOOK OR WHATEVER.”

She lit up again. “Really?? Yes! Awesome! It’ll be so fun, I promise.” She paused and glanced at the dark window. “But we can start that later. I gotta go get at least a tiny bit of sleep first.”

Bill shrugged. “SURE. CAN’T KEEP THIS BODY ALIVE IF YOURS GIVES OUT.”

“Thanks for the concern,” she snorted. “And see you in the morning.” She gave a quick wave before shutting the door behind her.

Watching the door, he heard the heavy “clunk” of the lock clicking shut, then rapid footsteps bounding up the staircase. He sighed and pinched his forehead. That much youthful energy couldn’t be sustainable. She probably wouldn’t live past 20.

As he waited for the various noises and occupants of the house to settle, he wolfed down the food as fast as he could. The kid was right to be apologetic, but if he ate quickly, he didn’t taste it much. It was just fuel anyway.

When the plate was finally empty, he dropped it back to the floor and picked up the plastic fork. He rinsed it in the sink as well as he could, wiped it dry with the paper napkin that came with the set, then bent one of the tines away from the others. He leaned one side against the crack in the door, listening intently to the silence from above. There wasn’t a whisper of movement.

He stuck the tine of the fork into the lock.

It was more stubborn than your typical household lock, but Bill had bested much worse with much less. It only took a little finagling before he heard the “clunk” he was listening for. Slowly, cautiously, he eased the door open. The hallway was dark and empty. He stashed his impromptu lockpick in his hat, locked the door behind him, and crept up into the house.

—-

The place was as quiet and dark as he’d hoped for. He’d been right to judge by the footsteps above him that they’d all gone to bed. And thankfully, even without his usual glow, the stars outside were bright enough to see by. He crept along with his back against the wall, testing each floorboard before he stepped, scanning his surroundings.

The decor was about the same as he remembered, with a few notable changes. A lot of the ceiling and walls had been replaced; probably necessary after they turned it into a big stupid robot last year. And it seemed like someone else might have moved in. There were some new decorations that weren't anything close to the “style” he’d come to expect from the place. Lace doilies hung from the tops of chairs and sofas like dusty cobwebs, and handmade blankets and wall hangings were scattered all around. Shooting Star was crafty, sure, but these didn’t look like her handiwork. The colors were way too easy on the eye, and there wasn’t a crumb of glitter to be seen. If they were her doing, they were a big step down in quality.

But if they weren’t, it meant an extra person to deal with. Better keep his eye out.

He turned a corner and a massive shape blotted out the hallway ahead. He scrambled back, clenching his teeth tight beneath his eyelids to stop a yell from escaping.

Then his eye adjusted, and he had to stifle an irritated growl. It was just that stupid pig. He’d forgotten how huge it was now, and it looked a lot less pathetic from a low angle. It was sitting in the middle of the floor, directly in his path, staring down at him. Its eyes glittered in the moonlight like two tiny black teeth.

Bill glared up at it defiantly. Just let it try and make a move. He might not have magic, but he still had claws and teeth. A ripped throat wasn’t as flashy as immolation, but it was still perfectly fatal.

The pig returned his stare with no discernable expression. A few silent seconds crept by.

Then the pig gave a grumbly snort and laid its head on the ground. It flopped onto one side and closed its eyes with an indifferent sigh.

Bill hurried on, telling himself to thank his lucky stars instead of feeling indignant. Still, his ego stung a little. Not even livestock saw him as a threat anymore.

To his relief, he had no more surprise encounters as he cased the second floor. The layout of the rooms was about the same as before, which meant the sounds of walking from above his little home base would still be a reliable method of tracking the inhabitants. He steered well clear of all the bedrooms and kept his back to the wall, and the floorboards beneath him kept silent. He was out of practice with walking, sure, but nobody who grew up causing problems ever forgets how to sneak through a hallway.

Once he’d made mental notes of all the storage spaces that might have supplies he could use, he headed for the portal. On the way through the gift shop he snagged a small notepad and pen from behind the desk. Scanning over the portal wreckage, he made a list of the missing components and tools he’d need. In code, obviously; secret codes were literally his name, after all.

Once the darkness outside started to lift away, he cut his work short and headed back. He tore the used page from the notebook and placed it and the pen back where he’d found them, exchanging them for a single paperclip that he stashed in his hat with the paper. That was all he felt comfortable taking for now. It was much too early to start gathering supplies. Anything left out of place would definitely make the kid suspicious. For now, he’d just plan. Make sure everything went as smoothly as it possibly could. He wasn’t sure how he was going to get all the power tools and steel he’d need down to the basement without being noticed, but there was no point freaking out about it now. He’d figure out logistics later. He could pull this off. He was going to pull this off. He had no other choice.

By the time the first pink rays of light had breached the horizon, he was back in the cell. The paperclip made a perfectly serviceable lockpick to latch the door behind him. Like nothing ever happened.

He curled up in his nest of blankets, trying to hold his eye open. Hoping to ward off the dreams a little longer. But eventually his exhaustion won the battle. His eye slid shut.

Maybe the next dream would at least be over quick.

—-

Bill’s wish came true. As soon as he jolted awake, he regretted making it. It felt like he’d been yanked out of a tar pit by his eyelashes, but his brain stayed behind. His head, chest and eye socket all felt like they were stuffed with wet cotton, and his bones were shaking with this sudden painful chill. His thoughts were so slow and muffled that it took a second for him to even realize that someone was staring him right in the face. He lurched away and fell backwards off the beanbag.

Mabel poked her head over the beanbag and beamed down at where he lay on the floor in a tangle of blankets. “Morning!” she said in a bright half-whisper. “How’d you sleep?”

Bill glared up at her with silent disdain. After a moment, she seemed to take that as an answer. “Yeah, me too. Had a lot of stress dreams. Anyway, time to figure some stuff out.”

She disappeared from view for a moment, then reappeared at his side with a fuzzy pink notebook and a chunky pink pen with a glittery pom-pom topper. She leafed through the book for a minute, then looked up at Bill. “You ok?”

“I’M DYING,” Bill croaked. It was barely hyperbole. That freezing, sinking pain just kept getting worse. Every second he kept his eye open, it felt like gravity increased tenfold.

Mabel hissed through her teeth. “Hold on a second.” She vanished from view again, then popped back in with a mason jar full of what looked like the fluid from inside a neon pink glowstick. She propped him upright and shoved it into his hands. “Drink this.”

Bill ought to have been at least a little suspicious of a drink presented so vaguely. But a billion years of drinking cocktails made from substances meant to power quantum reactions, combined with the weight of sheer exhaustion muffling all his thoughts, meant that he barely hesitated before lifting the jar to his eyelids and taking a gulp.

A second later, his eye shot wide open. “WHOA!” he shouted, blinking rapidly.

“Ooh, I might’ve put too many pop rocks in that batch,” Mabel said. She grabbed the jar and shook it, sending frozen fruit shapes and plastic dinosaurs clattering around in a glittery whirlpool. “Mixing it usually helps. Dipper keeps telling me to warn people before I give them this stuff—”

Bill grabbed the jar back. He took an approving glance at the crazy-looking drink— now that his brain was working, he could fully appreciate the vibe— and then knocked back another mouthful. A rush of energy buzzed through his brain, setting his neurons alight like christmas lights hooked up to a nuclear reactor. The dangerously sugary concoction stung the inside of his mouth like acid, but this was a fun kind of pain. “OH, THIS IS PHENOMENAL.”

Mabel’s face lit up. “You like it??”

“DO I?!” One more swig and the jar was empty, and Bill was actually bouncing in place a little. “I FEEL LIKE A WHOLE NEW TRIANGLE! WHAT IS THAT?!”

“It’s Mabel Juice!” she beamed. “My own personal secret recipe! It’s so secret, not even I know what the secret is! Seriously, I hardly ever write the ingredients down.”

Bill laughed. “WELL, COLOR ME IMPRESSED, KID! I HAVEN’T HAD A DRINK THAT GOOD SINCE THAT BATTERY ACID DAQUIRI I MIXED BACK IN THE ‘30s. AND THIS ONE DIDN’T EVEN DISSOLVE MY STOMACH!”

Mabel’s smile dropped for a second, then returned. “I’ll take that as a compliment!” she said proudly. “I’ll bring more down later. I’ve got a million different brews you can try! The others don’t drink much of it, they always complain about how there’s ‘so much sugar’ and it ‘burns their mouths’ or whatever…”

“HEY, THEIR LOSS! I’LL TAKE IT OFF YOUR HANDS! EXTRA BURNING ON THE SIDE, IF YOU’VE GOT IT,” Bill offered. He had to hand it to the kid; she made pouring on the charm pretty easy. In a better world, he would’ve hired her as a barista in the Fearamid.

Mabel grinned, but then her face froze. From somewhere upstairs, the familiar sound of heavy, clomping footsteps rang through the ceiling.

Bill froze in place too, his eye locked on the ceiling. His teeth clenched tight behind his eye socket as he tried to repress his anger. Like a favorite song after you set it as your morning alarm, that sound made his blood boil on contact.

“Grunkle Ford’s up,” Mabel whispered. Bill glanced over to see her watching the ceiling too. “I thought he’d at least sleep ‘til five…”

“RISKY GAMBLE THERE,” Bill muttered. “FORD DOESN’T HAVE A SLEEP SCHEDULE, HE JUST WORKS ‘TIL HE KEELS OVER.”

“He’s working on it,” Mabel said defensively. Maybe Bill hadn’t kept all the derision out of his voice. He kept his mouth shut, just to be safe.

“Okay. Alright. This is fine.” The kid was clearly reassuring herself more than him. “He shouldn’t hear us down here. Nobody heard you screaming your head off the other day, they shouldn’t hear us just talking… we should be fine for now. As long as he doesn’t wander down here and happen to just randomly get close to this room. Or wander upstairs to his office and pass our bedroom and happen to look in and notice I’m not there. So as long as he stays on the exact floor he’s on now, we’ll be okay…”

“KID, RELAX. YOU SOUND LIKE PINETREE,” Bill laughed. “WITH HOW LOUD THOSE STEPS ARE, WE’LL HAVE A TON OF WARNING IF HE HEADS FOR ANY STAIRS. JUST CUT TO THE CHASE SO YOU DIDN’T WAKE ME UP FOR NOTHING.”

She shot another worried glance at the ceiling, then nodded. “Okay. Sure. The chase… hold on.” She grabbed her notepad and pen again, then started rooting around for something else in the backpack she’d brought. “The Chase, part one. Secret messages. Ooh, that’s good.” She opened the book and labeled the first page with that title. Bill bit his tongue to stop himself from pointing out that huge pink bubble letters weren’t the best choice for subtlety.

“Now,” she said, throwing the notebook down like a frazzled detective presenting her notes. “I would’ve loved to, like, build a two-way radio out of soda cans, or find a way to send smoke signals through the A/C system or something. But I think we should wait on that ‘til later. Right now, simplicity’s the name of the game.” With a victorious flourish, she revealed the thing she’d fished out of the bag. It took a second for Bill to parse what the battered old thing even was. A cell phone. An ancient, blocky brick of a flip-screen cell phone.

“YEESH!” he exclaimed as she shoved it into his hands. “WHAT ANCIENT BURIAL GROUND DIDJA DIG THIS THING OUT OF? IT’S OLD ENOUGH TO BE YOUR DAD!”

Mabel snorted. “Give me a break! It was the best one I could find in the closet where Grunkle Stan keeps all his burner phones.”

“WELL, I’D HATE TO SEE THE COMPETITION!” Bill remarked. “WHAT WAS THE WORST ONE, A CLAY TABLET? A BONE CARVED FLUTE TO CALL THE NEANDERTHAL TRIBE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MOUNTAIN?”

Mabel hid a giggle behind the turtleneck of her sweater. All according to plan. Jokes were a great way of lowering a mark’s defenses, even if they didn’t land. And despite her best efforts, Shooting Star was a good audience.

He held down the power button and marvelled as the dusty, scuffed screen actually lit up. “WHAAAT! LOOK AT THIS LOGO! THIS COMPANY WENT UNDER IN 2002! THE CEO BURNED DOWN THE OFFICE TO HIDE TAX FRAUD AND MELTED HIS EYELIDS OFF!”

Mabel clapped her hands over her ears. “Ugh!! Why would you tell me that?”

“BECAUSE IT’S HILARIOUS! THE GUY WAS A TOTAL LOSER ANYWAY, HE WAS TOO UPTIGHT TO TAKE MY DEAL AND COULDN’T EVEN HANDLE A WEEK OF NIGHT TERRORS BEFORE HE CRACKED—”

“Anyway!” She cut him off. “This was the only phone I found in the closet that could send texts. We need to be able to keep in touch, so you can let me know if you’re hurt or need more supplies, and I can warn you if people upstairs can hear you practicing your evil laugh or something.”

“WHA— HEY! WHO EVEN— NOBODY NEEDS TO PRACTICE THEIR LAUGH, THAT’S JUST STUPID.” Bill hoped he didn’t sound too defensive. There was no way she actually knew about that, right?

She just rolled her eyes, holding back a smile. “Point is, that phone is yours. Nobody’ll recognize that number. My number’s in there already, you can text me in morse code if you need something.”

Bill looked up from the phone screen to squint at her. “MORSE? C’MON, KID.”

“What’s wrong with morse?”

“THAT’S THE MOST BASIC CODE IN EXISTENCE! YOU REALLY THINK ANYBODY IN THIS HOUSE WOULDN’T RECOGNIZE MORSE WHEN THEY SAW IT?” he said. “YOU THINK THEY’LL SEE YOU ANSWERING TEXTS IN MORSE FROM SOME RANDOM NUMBER AND HAVE ANY OTHER THOUGHT BESIDES ‘SHE’S HIDING SOMETHING’?”

Mabel sighed. “Okay, fine, Mr. Code Snob. What should we use?”

“WE SHOULDN’T ‘USE’ ANYTHING. WE JUST KEEP THINGS VAGUE AND SIMPLE,” he said. “ANYTHING THAT EVEN LOOKS LIKE IT MIGHT BE CODE WILL JUST GET PEOPLE’S ATTENTION. BESIDES, IN A HOUSE FULL OF CON ARTISTS AND MYSTERY DORKS, I DOUBT THERE’S ANY CODE WE COULD USE ON THIS THING THAT NONE OF THEM WILL RECOGNIZE. THESE TEXTS NEED TO BE AS BORING AND UN-MYSTERIOUS AS THEY CAN POSSIBLY BE. SO BORING THAT NOT EVEN PINETREE IN HIS SNOOPIEST MOOD WOULD GLANCE AT ‘EM TWICE.”

Mabel pursed her lips. “Spam!” she said after a minute. “Dipper and I get spam texts from random numbers all the time. We can make up a system where I know what you’re saying based on what you’re trying to sell me. Like a scam alphabet!”

Bill’s eye crinkled with his version of a grin. “NOW YOU’RE TALKING!”

Mabel grabbed her pen and started rattling off scams to list in her notebook. Stan had clearly taught her well, and between the both of them they soon had a massive list to work from. On the opposite page, they listed phrases to match with each scam. “NEED FOOD”, “NEED SUPPLIES”, “INJURY”, “FIRE”, “RACCOON GOT IN”, and so on. As soon as they had a workable “alphabet”, the kid insisted they start deciding on secret knocks. They’d just started to argue about whether “shave-and-a-haircut” was too uncreative, when suddenly Mabel stopped short and held out a hand. Before Bill could ask what was up, he realized what she’d heard. A voice from upstairs. A voice that was much too prepubescent to be Ford’s.

“Dipper’s up,” Mabel hissed. “Why is Dipper up? He never gets up this early on his own… Did he notice I was gone? Is he looking for me?? How am I gonna get back up without—”

“GEEZ, RELAX,” Bill said. “LOOK, THE STAIRCASE TO THE ATTIC IS RIGHT ACROSS FROM THIS ONE. JUST WAIT UNTIL HE’S IN THE KITCHEN…” he pointed to that corner of the house, from where Ford’s voice was now ringing through the ceiling, “AND YOU CAN SNEAK BACK UP WITHOUT BUMPING INTO HIM. JUST DON’T LET HIM SEE YOU LEAVING THE BASEMENT, AND WE’LL BE FINE.”

“I don’t like how much you know about our house.”

Bill pointed to his eye. “REMEMBER HOW HALF THE DECOR IN HERE USED TO BE MY EYES?”

“Yeah, duh. Doesn’t mean it’s not creepy.” She shuddered, and Bill tried not to laugh. At least the memory of his powers still inspired fear… but he didn’t want her knowing how happy that made him.

Mabel gathered up her stuff and headed for the door. “I gotta go before he notices I’m not sleeping. Soon as I get a chance, I’ll sneak back down and we’ll sort out the other stuff on my checklist.”

“FAIR ENOUGH. BE SEEING YOU, KID.” He couldn’t resist putting a little extra emphasis on that word, pointing to his eye again with a smug, half-lidded smile. Shooting Star was his ally for now, sure. But she shouldn’t forget where things really stood. He was the one who was really in control here.

“And I’ll use the We Will Rock You knock.”

“UGH, COME ON!” Bill protested. “I’M TELLING YOU, SHAVE-AND-A-HAIRCUT IS THE GO-TO FOR A REASON, IT’S PRACTICAL—“

“See ya later!” She winked and vanished through the door. The lock clicked heavily into place.

Bill glared daggers at the door until the sound of footsteps had faded away. Then he took off his hat and rifled through the lining, taking a reassuring glance at his folded-up notes. And the paper clip fastening them in place. That dumb kid put way too much trust in that lock. Did she really not realize the danger she’d let into her house? Did she really not know what she was dealing with?

His eye was drawn in by a soft gleam from deep within the hat. He brushed some fabric aside and stared at the fragment of his dimension. It caught the dim light in the room and threw it back much brighter, twisted into colors that didn’t exist anymore. It hurt to look at it with this new eye. He let his gaze rest on it longer than he should have.

Then he tore his eye away and shoved the hat back on. No, she definitely didn’t know. The fact he was still here— still alive— was proof enough of that.

#gravity falls #mabel’s guide to the power of friendship #bill & mabel friendship au #bill cipher #mabel pines #euclydia #milleniart #robin writes stuff

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smiley-mcdoggington · 4 months ago

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Sorry can't stop thinking abt Stan being Fidds' semi-lobotomized housewife because. Having the power to erase guilt and shame and regret is Not Good but also. Getting into the habit of memory-wiping someone else? Especially a partner????

The first few times it was just about the portal incident, Stan simply couldn't function with those memories - even though all the memories left were foggy as if they were from lifetimes ago, and he still couldn't say a word. They were innocent, justifiable, even Ford relented that it was better than Stan being terrified of him and his house for reasons Ford knew but would not divulge. Stan had started spacing out for hours at a time, but Fidds thought that might be from the portal.

Fidds assumed they would be taking the portal apart after then, but Ford hesitated. He had seen what it did to Stanley but he still hesitated. So Fidds stormed out, determined to never work with him again. That day he went home and he told Stan that his brother couldn't be reasoned with. Stan said he wanted to go talk to Ford himself - the wipes were starting to hold better, by then, he was almost who he was (with a few more gray hairs). But the conversation went bad, terribly, Ford had been awake for 3 days by then and sitting on the couch next to his brother just calmed him down so much he fell asleep on Stan's shoulder.

Fidds got a call from Ford later that Bill had done something with his sleeping body, and Stan had locked himself in a closet and Ford could see the blood on the handle but Stan wouldn't open the door.

Fiddleford erased that interaction from Stan's memory, too - said he got the bump on his head and the scratches on his arms from a bar fight. Stan didn't believe him, but he learned that questions only brought him migraines. It didn't take as many memory wipes to stick, that time, because by then Ford wasn't seen at all. Fiddleford bought a book on Hanukkah and celebrated it with Stanley in their new shared apartment. Stanley called his Ma and she said he sounded sick but Stanley laughed it off.

Then Stanley woke up from a nightmare - he'd spent a good deal of time on the streets before he had reconciled with Stanford in their early 20s, and every peek Fidds got into that life made his stomach twist. All those memories ever did was burden Stan, and it was just so easy for Fiddleford to hold Stanley's cheek with one hand and the memory gun with the other, erasing the pieces that hurt Stan - selling himself at seventeen, almost freezing in the back of his car, those six months in that prison, the attempts by both criminals and police to kill him. Without them, Stanley was never paranoid, or burdened. He was happier. Fidds had made him happier.

So why stop? Fidds had already made a group for others dedicated to caring for those burdened by the disturbing creatures of gravity falls. Stan was so much happier when he wasnt worried people would short-change him or turn on him - cutting away the last strings tying him down was almost Fidds' duty. Something Fiddleford said scared him? Wiped clean, Stanley didn't have to know about the society of the blind eye. He didn't like what his Ma told him the last time he called? He doesn't remember what she said to him. He misses his brother? He doesn't have to remember Ford. Sure, Stanley had been a lot more submissive lately - almost vacant - but surely that was just because he knew what Fidds did was always for his best interest and he trusted him so implicitly.

Then Fidds came home from his meeting and saw Ford in his livingroom. Ford slammed him into a wall, demanding to know what he was doing to Stan. Fidds said he wasn't doing anything but helping him. Ford said he'd been here for two hours and Stan. Hadn't. Moved. Fidds said he was just having one of his spacing-spells and he would be fine - he was right there. Ford said Stan had soiled himself an hour ago and didn't notice. Fidds said he did that sometimes - probably from the trauma of the portal. Ford started throwing punches, so Fidds made him forget he had a brother.

#fiddlestan #Not like. In a good way though #Idk why Fiddleford is so fascinating to me #Btw Tate is in the house at the end there #Tate and Stan used to be pretty close but now Stan kind of scares him he's like a mannequin

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dreamy-pill · 4 months ago

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In My Brother’s Shadow AU

Anyone had this idea yet?

Stanley Pines is so used to hiding, he ends up personifying and replacing his twin brother’s shadow. Now, he’s either gone-gone or cursed. Stanford doesn’t realize his shadow is his brother until he tries sending out that postcard.

This is heavily inspired from Peter Pan. Can you guess who’s Wendy? For reference, Bill plays the role of Captain Hook.

- Unspecified origins, Stanley is transported halfway across the globe and ends up in Gravity Falls with his brother.

- Obviously, Stanford is so busy with getting his house being built he doesn’t realize his shadow is sentient until he’s apparently confronted with it. It’s the surprise of his life!

- At first he thinks his shadow is an anomaly. Stanford doesn’t begrudge the shadow for occupying in his impression. In fact, he becomes fascinated with it and its’ ambiguous nature. He ends up trying to ask his shadow a bunch of questions.

- Unfortunately, Stanley has to defer from Stanford’s inquiries because he cannot speak. The lack of back and forth communication makes Stanford somewhat falter. So, Stanley resorts to charades or shadow puppetry to answer Ford’s questions. He’s really good at shadow puppets.

- Stanley doesn’t tell Stanford he’s really Stanley.

- For awhile, it was just the two of them. They’d go out in the woods to document research on strange happenings. Stanford would refer to his shadow just by looking where the light hits the trees or the ground. For some reason, his shadow finds great joy in climbing trees.

- Even under the dim light of the kitchen, Ford is never really eating alone when he can see his shadow splayed out on the fridge or counters. It’s funny to think that Stanley will just be goofing off, all silent, while Ford is communicating for him.

- Maybe they make a game of it. Ford will fill the air with a narrative, Stanley will use his “shadow powers” to make interesting and detailed visuals of silhouettes to pop up on the walls.

- Maybe, in all the silence, Stanford yearned for some actual conversation. Stanley thinks his brother’s been alone by himself for too long, even with him as just his shadow. So, Stanford’s shadow (Stanley) is what inevitably convinces Ford to contact Fiddleford again.

Do you know that one scene from Nim’s Island? The scene where the author Alex Rider is about to back away from leaving the house but is pushed out by her imaginary character? I just thought of something similar happening to Ford when he’s somehow convinced by his shadow to call Fiddleford. You’ll have this whole tug-o-war scene between Stanford and his shadow, pulling on the phone chord, both being too stubborn to let it go.

- Fiddleford thinks Ford’s gone off the deep end when he sees him laughing along with his shadow.

- Mystery Trio (semi) established!

- Fiddleford attempts making an awkward one-sided conversations with Stanford’s shadow. Then over time, he becomes used to talking to the shadow, simply because of how exaggerated the shadow will change its shape to relay responses for him. It does get a good laugh out of Fiddleford each time. He considers the shadow a jokester, which is so unlike serious Stanford. That might offend him, but the trio do get a good laugh over it together.

- That little comparison could be the little hint that makes Ford slowly connect the dots, up until the postcard.

- Imagine seeing Stanley waving his arms frantically in the air on the cave walls momentarily before Ford sweeps his gaze to the painting on the wall of Bill, thus ignoring Stanley’s cry for his attention.

- Stanford still reads the inscription on the wall, leading to the winding road that causes Ford to focus more on Bill and drift further away from his shadow.

- Bill is delighted that Stanley is being pushed away.

- Bill gives Stanford the final hint about his shadow’s real identity.

- Stanford crushes the postcard in his hands. He whirls around and stares down at his shadow (maybe Ford gave his shadow a nickname?). The red light from the control room casts a sinister and eerie feeling in the atmosphere. Stanford confronts his shadow about his suspicions.

You know how Peter Pan’s shadow had to be sewn back to him from his feet? What if, instead of Stanford being pushed through the portal, Stanley is ripped away from Stanford. In the actual sense, like Ford loses his shadow and Stanley becomes lost after losing his one connection to who he used to be. Like, Stanley becomes lost in a dark void, endlessly shapeshifting in hopes of finding an impression similar to his original.

- Years later, Ford still has no shadow. He realizes too late that his brother is not who he used to be anymore. Stanley becomes a distressed mass of a conglomeration of forms of all the figures he tried fitting into over the years.

#gravity falls #alternate universe #gravity falls au #in my brother’s shadow au #peter pan references #stanley pines #stanford pines #fiddleford mcgucket #bill cipher #who’s tinkerbell in this story?#curses?#shadow stanley pines #stangst #I couldn’t hold back on the angst

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inkyrainstorms · 14 days ago

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Martian Stan AU - Aftermath & Discovery

The Beginning (1), Aftermath (2) (here), next

Extra! (The Apology)

Ford didn’t know how long it took for him to pry himself off the floor, but it felt like hours later when he managed to trudge his way upstairs, eyes burning and throat raw. There was new blood on his knuckles, and Ford couldn’t remember if it was Stan’s or his own. He’d tried to scrub the blood off of the portal, but most of it had been too high and Ford was so tired.

He couldn’t fall asleep in the basement, he chanted to himself, again and again and again and it only occurred to him once he stood swaying at the top the of the stairs, that is didn’t actually… matter, anymore.

It didn’t matter what Bill did, or didn’t do.

The portal was broken beyond repair. His brother was dead.

The journal is gone. his mind whispered insidiously, and he couldn’t remember if he’d always been so cruel to himself, or if it was a byproduct of Bill. You got what you wanted, Sixer. How does it feel?

Ford hobbled to the bathroom as fast as he could manage, and hurled his guts out into the toilet. When all that came up was acrid bile, though, and Ford wondered idly when we he last ate. It didn’t matter.

None of it mattered, Ford decided firmly, hands clenched on either side of the porcelain bowl so hard that they looked bloodless in the harsh white light. It didn’t matter what he felt, or didn’t feel.

Not anymore.

The journal was gone. That was a good thing, it meant that the portal could never be rebuilt again. Stanley made an honorable… he. He’d made an honorable sacrifi—

Ford hunched over the toilet and heaved again. Nothing came out.

Impossibly, time kept moving.

Ford was left drifting in the current, from room to room, machine to first aid kit to paper to specimen to paper to circling the door of his lab again and again like an anxious sentry. He didn’t process any of it, and eventually, the door was the only thing left in the house that felt truly real. It was the only mystery left that Ford could pay any real mind to, and most of the time he wanted nothing more than burn the whole thing to the ground.

Sitting against the door, head leaned back and staring at the ceiling, Ford searched his mind for something. Anything.

A plan, a goal, fuck, he’d take the will to actually get out of the house and get groceries despite the constant chance of being watched at this rate. There was near nothing left to eat in the cabinets that wasn’t rank with age, and Ford knew he was wasting away like this.

But there was nothing. No part of him cared.

He knew he’d always had the wildest aspirations as a kid and as a young man, that he’d never stop reaching for bigger and better heights, but the light had blinded him with its promise, and now he’d fallen. He’d fallen so far.

He’d said Icarus didn’t flap hard enough, when Fiddleford tried to warn him of his own hubris all those weeks ago. Now he was just glad he wasn’t an English major, because it had taken him all of this just to realize that Icarus had found the sun, been embraced by the promise of warmth, and burned for it.

Trust no one.

Ford traced an idle finger against the freshly bandaged burn on the underside of his hand.

And no one should ever trust you.

…

The worst part, Ford thought to himself as he brewed another pot of coffee and searched for a clean mug, was the uncertainty of it all. There was a grief in loss, of course, but not knowing could be so much worse.

Stanley could still be alive out there, among the creatures of the Nightmare Realm, all alone. He could be dying. He could be dead. He could be sitting on the other side, waiting, hoping Ford could open the portal and bring him home—

Ford slammed down the sole clean coffee cup he had left hard enough to startle himself, and then sighed.

He’d have to go clean up the remains of the portal, eventually. Before he fell asleep and Bill…

Ford poured out the coffee and leaned heavily against the counter as he took a sharp swig. It burned the whole way down.

What did he have left that Bill wanted? What reason did Bill have to keep him around if his research was beyond saving, if he couldn’t be threatened or tortured into complying anymore?

The next time he fell asleep…

Ford didn’t know what’d happen to him, and despite everything, damnit, Ford didn’t want to die. He couldn’t let Bill win, couldn’t become another footnote in the history of the world because he was just another one of the poor schmucks who fell for Bill Cipher’s lies.

Taking another gulp of liquid courage, Ford pulled his coat tight around himself and marched to the door of his lab before he could talk himself out of it.

Forget not sleeping in the lab. Ford couldn’t sleep at all until he found a way to sever Bill from his mind for good. Project Mentem had been a bust last he’d checked, but it was worth another shot. What else hadn’t he tried? There was something… a protection spell? A charm?

Ford contemplated his options all the way down the stairs, one hand keeping him steady on the wall while the other held his mug.

He still wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted yet, or what his next step was, but Ford could do this. He just had to secure his mind, like he’d planned, and then get rid of the blasted portal once and for all. Nothing had changed.

Nothing had changed. Nothing had changed. Nothing, nothing, except that Ford felt hollow where there must’ve once been something warm and vital in his chest. He didn’t know if he’d ever feel warm again. He didn’t deserve to.

Ford remembered a detail about sleep deprivation, as the elevator neared the basement level again and his heart dropped in time with the doors hissing open. Hallucinations were a common byproduct of the resulting sensory overload and exhaustion. They could take auditory or visual form, though visual hallucinations were a more common symptom by over 52%.

That was the only explanation he could conjure for the faint singing that echoed through the dark, cavernous sub-level before him.

“It’s not real,” Ford whispered to himself, hands a vice around the coffee mug. He felt cold. “Auditory hallucinations are an expected and well documented symptom to experience in conditions less dire than these. Focus on your intellect, Stanford. Focus, focus, it is not real.”

For a long stretch of time, seconds, or perhaps minutes, Fords feet were glued to the floor of the elevator. No matter how hard he tried, no matter what he said or did, the singing, or the static, remained steady and quiet.

It wouldn’t go away unless Ford made it.

Finally, Ford forced himself to creep into the basement, and then the control room to set his mug down on the desk. The music was louder now, more distinct here than it had been before. Had Ford left a radio on down here? Was that it?

Holding his breath, Ford crept around the trashed room, checking behind spare sheets of metal that had been propped up against the walls, kneeling to look under the control panels, and then behind them too. All the while, the music droned on, buzzing and humming and settling under his skin like an itch.

-any- wind blows—

It got louder as he neared the very back of the room, the words filtering through the humming static and becoming clear. Ford couldn’t deny it anymore. That was a voice. He shivered hard, jolting like ice had been pressed to the back of his neck, and hurried forward.

-really matter to me… To me.

There was a pile of debris, in the back of the control room, farthest from the door where he’d entered. Stanley must’ve crashed into it, when Ford and him had been… when he’d…

-just killed a man —a gun against his head…

Ford slowed his pace, staring down at the dented metal plates and machinery that had fallen loose in a heap on the floor, the stray wires and screws jutting out of the mess every which way. Slowly, Ford sank to his knees and pressed his aching palms onto the cool floor beneath him.

He could hear the singing now. Warbling, staticky. Familiar.

-Life had just begun, and now I’ve gone and thrown it all away.

Ford choked on his next inhale, thin and trembly as it was, and searched through the wreckage with wide eyes.

There. Nestled between a dented panel with half its screws undone, and a jumble of wires and smaller panels of sheet metal, was the source of the sound.

For a long, long moment, all Ford did was stare.

Oh mama… oh ohh oh. Didn’t mean to make you cry.

If I’m not back again this time tomorrow…

Ford’s hands trembled as he reached out, carefully prying the radio out of the scrap heap and holding it up in the dim light.

Carry on, carry on…

As if nothing really matters…

The voice faded out. Static.

Ford set the radio down on his lap, gently, as it would shatter into a million pieces otherwise, and pressed a trembling hand to his mouth.

“Stanley?” Ford choked out, and it was like trying to breathe glass. But he had to know, he had to, because— because…

He sat there, dully staring down at the radio Fiddleford had cobbled together months ago, when they’d still been in the implementations stage of the data and blueprints they’d collected, when the preliminary tests had begun. A device to send and collect waves and other information from beyond this dimension without actually opening a rift.

And here it was. In Fords hands, dented and scratched and still whole despite everything. Ford had turned his sights completely to the portal before the it’s completion, since Bill had deemed the entire endeavor a waste of time and energy and an ineffective outlet for his genius.

Fiddleford must’ve completed it, back when he was still just as enthralled in the project as Ford was. He missed his old friend, but Fiddleford was likely back home by now, in California to try and reconnect with his wife and child. As bitter as Ford was, he hoped Fiddleford was successful. His old friend deserved as much and more.

There was no reply to Ford’s question, except, Ford brought the radio to his ear and strained to listen through the faint static. Was that… humming?

Doo- doo doo, yeah, no poindexter, I‘m done, man. That’s the last song of the evening, I’m not paid for overtime.

Moses, wish I were getting paid for this.

Ford jumped, wincing at the sudden burst of noise loud enough to make his ears ring, then processed what Stanley, because that had to be Stanley, had said.

“Stanley! Where are you? Are you in the Nightmare Realm? You must be… what sort of method did you find to transmit your signal? Are you al—“

But Stanley continued speaking as though he hadn’t heard him. A thrill of irritation went through him. Was Stanley ignoring him? Was this some kind of petty revenge tactic?

When’d that song come out anyway? ‘75?

He hummed.

Sounds about right.

Ford shook the radio and bit back a growl, before he remembered that the technology in his hands was damaged and sorely in need of a repair and upgrade, and loosened his grip again. He set it down in his lap.

“Stanley, I need you to take this seriously, please, for once.”

Wow, that song was everywhere back then, wasn’t it? I remember thinkin’ Ford probably liked it when it came out, wherever he was. The nerd was probably in college.

“Stanley?” he tried again, but he wasn’t expecting a reply anymore. Stanley soldiered on, rambling about everything and nothing and Ford could almost hear the smile in his voice if it didn’t sound so tired.

Hell, where’d I first hear it? Must’ve been over at a gas station in… eh, Kansas? Somewhere over there, the big ol’ middle states.

We sure aren’t in Kansas anymore.

Ahh, those were the times. Me, the open sky, and so, so much dirt in my hair. Seriously, where did the dirt come from. I roll around in one haystack and suddenly i’m fishing filth out of my hair a month later.

Stanley went quiet again, before he laughed.

Aw man, I actually like this story. Buckle in folks, and I’m taking us back to that weirdly cold summer day in Kansas, where I had to steal 5 prized chickens. For some reason.

Look man, when someone pays you a hundred bucks and tells you he wants chickens, you don’t ask questions.

Anyways, I’d been-“

For the past few… well, it had to have been days since Stanley fell through the portal by this point, if Fords state was anything to go off of, Ford’s mind had been eerily blank. He’d been a hollowed out shell of his former self, a ghost in his home and life that held onto the living plane by only the barest threads and pure spite.

It was like a switch had flipped. Ford’s fingers drummed on the outside of the radio as he forced himself to his feet, mind whirling at a hundred miles per hour and making calculations and theories and discarding some and contemplating others, and he was nearly jittering as he walked out of the control room entirely. He’d need to find a way to secure this side of the portal from Bills influence, recollect his journals, and then, he was bringing his brother home.

He stopped just before he got into the elevator and turned around to stare down the wrecked portal that loomed overhead. The once perfect inverted triangle, now ruined and warped nearly beyond recognition.

He grinned in a way that was more just like baring his teeth.

“You may be a god, Cipher, and you may think you can control me, but never forget. I am a scientist.”

The portal stood dead as it had been, but Ford didn’t care. He whirled around and stalked into the elevator. He felt more awake than he had in days. And he had research to collect and a demon to banish.

Stanley was still talking, as the elevator began to shudder and rise, and Ford’s adrenaline shot began to ever-so-slightly wane. Something about… attack pigeons?

-And when I finally think I’m in the clear, I duck around one of the hay bales and come face to face with, and I’m not kidding here, a cow wearing heavy duty armor, like a helmet and shit the guy in ‘Nam would wear. It even had holes for the ears!

There was a strange sound then, and Ford realized with a start that it was coming from him. He was laughing. It wasn’t even than funny, really, but something about Stan delivery made Ford wheeze.

When was the last time he’d laughed? It must’ve been before this whole thing started, when he’d been with Fiddleford or B—

The laughter died in his throat. Oblivious to Fords inner turmoil, Stan kept on jabbering.

And there I was, 5 chickens smuggled into my coat and in my bag —and if you’ve never tried to carry 5 chickens, never do, it’s hard as hell and not worth it at all— staring down ol’ Bessie.

And then, because this fucking farm couldn’t get any weirder, the cow started moo-ing like it was setting off a tornado siren, and all the other cows in the whole place started mooing in sync too. It was fucking terrifying man.

They must’ve been calling the attack pigeons, because those suckers came back, and they started dive-bombing my sorry ass, and really, that was when I reached my limit.

I dove into the hay bale like a damn football player going for the end line, and even though it was by far the itchiest thing to ever happen to me, it saved me from death-by pecking so I’ll take take it.

The itchiest, of course, save for my stint in Albuquerque.

Ford could almost imagine Stan shaking his head as he paused again. With a start, he realized he was still smiling.

Just. Don’t try selling pillows in Albuquerque is all I’ll say.

Stan gave an audible shudder.

So many feathers… And itch powder. The itch powder didn’t help.

Ford couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped out of him at that.

Tags! (I’m sure I’m forgetting someone, pls tell me if you want to be on the list! Or just follow the tag that also works) @aroace-get-out-of-my-face @pleasantartisanhottea @littlelilliana15 @empressofsamoyeds @pinesfamilycatsau

Super Epic Secret Surprise!

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justcallmeremus · 5 months ago

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The current Ford hate on TT is insane to me.

“He didn’t care about Stan!”

I’m sorry what? This is the same Ford that, in the ripped out pages from the journal in Book Of Bill, stated “Stanley could have made her laugh” when he was referring to the waitress and him having a poor interaction. Meaning he had fond thoughts of his brother even during a time when he wasn’t talking to him.

Another direct quote is referring to the telephone booth scene

“‘HEY BROTHER, IT’S SIXER. I’M GOING TO TAKE A SWIM IN THE FROZEN LAKE TOMORROW, AND I MIGHT NOT COME BACK, SO IF YOU DON’T HEAR FROM ME, I JUST WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT IT’S BECAUSE I NEVER LOVED YOU. BUH-BYEEEEE’

My heart was in my throat until I heard the dial tone…”

Ford was in a state of anxiety from the idea of the last thing Stan potentially ever hearing from him was that he [Ford] never loved him [Stan]. That shows he cares for his brother I do not care what you say. Even in a spat such as theirs Ford showed in small ways that he did care for Stan.

“Oh but during the portal scene(s) he was mean to Stan!!!”

“If Stan was sucked into the portal we know Ford wouldn’t have helped”

In the first scene where Stan and Ford are at the portal arguing Ford is in an extreme state of paranoia due to the lack of sleep and stress Bill has put on his body.

The second one Ford has just returned from what we can only imagine as a traumatic experience, fighting for his life in another dimension, oh right yes the dimension that very portal leads to and that Ford was trying to make sure couldn’t link the two worlds.

If they had swapped places and Ford didn’t know the extent of what was on the other side, because remember Fiddleford was the only one who had seen the other side before this moment, I bet Ford would’ve done anything to get Stan back, and then when Stan returned, if he knew that the portal linked the two dimensions at this point, Stan would probably be upset too! Wondering why his smart brother would risk total destruction on this town just to get him back!

“He didn’t thank Stan for everything he did to get Ford back!!!”

Yes, of course he should be grateful that his brother brought him home but also if Stan managed to get the portal running then Ford knows that Stan read his journals and also knows those dangers and once again he’s disregarded the consequences of his actions in Ford’s eyes.

“Erm why didn’t he use his grant money to help the fam…kinda selfish!!!”

Do you not know how grant money works? You can’t just use it for whatever you want! You have to use it in relation to your studies! He built himself a lab with his grant money to do research, like he’s supposed to. If he hadn’t used it as intended guess what! He’d have to pay it back!!! Out of pocket!

“Making Dipper his apprentice was kinda weird like what about school…”

There’s schools in Gravity Falls??? Like did you forget there were other people his age going to school in the area?? Also, Dipper expressed interest in the things Ford spent his life studying.

Dipper read the journal like it was his whole world and Ford basically had found someone to relay and teach all the things he learned to, which would allow Dipper to learn far more than he could anywhere else, especially if this is a field of study Dipper would like to pursue!!

I’d like to add that Stan also never apologized for ruining Ford’s project, even if it was an accident generally you apologize for things you do accidentally if it impacted someone you love so greatly. Instead he said how they could just travel instead of Ford going off to school, completely disregarding how that made his brother feel.

If there was an apology. If there was an explanation. Ford most likely would have forgiven Stan much sooner.

“I just don’t like Ford”

And that’s fine! You’re allowed to not like a character! No one is forcing you to like him, but when you’re saying you don’t like him and these are your defenses? Your argument and reasonings fall flat.

I love both Stan and Ford deeply and do not view one as better over the other, but the way the fandom holds Ford way more accountable than Stan is insane to me. The way Stan can repeatedly put people in danger and/or do things without thinking about the consequences is a valid thing to critique just like any of Ford’s actions.

Oookay long rant over.

TLDR; Stop blaming Ford for everything, picking and choosing what parts of canon about him you use for arguments, hold Stan more accountable.

#billford #book of bill #dipper pines #gravity falls #mabel pines #stanford pines #bill cipher #bipper #stanley pines #witch au

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tsukiusagi180 · 7 months ago

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stan x reader x Ford ??

You had met Stanford at university, he was quite an intriguing student you must admit. I guess what made him intriguing to you was his hands, yes he had 12 fingers instead of 10 but you couldn't help but find it cute.

Then you started to get closer to him, it all started with Fiddleford, he had understood what was happening after all Stanford was in the science branch and you? Well you were quite literary so to constantly come across him it wasn't a coincidence.

Luckily for you Stanford finally made the first move, he came to see you one afternoon while you were on campus relaxing

Hi, uh, I noticed that we often meet, but uh, it seems to me that we're not in the same class?"

Seeing him talk to you surprised you, you didn't think he would, honestly he didn't think so either

"Hi, I also noticed that we often meet but no, we don't have a common class"

“Oh uh okay thank you, I won’t bother you anymore”

"Wait! Don't you want to sit down, can we talk?"

You asked the question so insecurely that a blush appeared on his cheeks.

“With pleasure, but can I ask what your name is?”

“My name is (Y/n) (L/n) but call me (N/n)”

“Enchanted Stanford Pines (N/n)” “

Nice Stanford”

“Ford”

“Ford?”

“You can just call me Ford”

“Very good Ford”

And that was how your love story began, you were both very happy, a perfect dynamic, then when you finished your studies you both went to live in Gravity Falls, for a time it was really happiness until at a certain time.

“Hey Sixer.”

"Bill! I told you to leave me alone"

“Oh but you are my muse, I won’t leave you alone”

“Our agreement no longer holds, I’ve put lead in my head, you can’t go in there anymore!”

“Fine, but what would you say if I decided to play with someone new, like oh hey why not (Y/n)?”

At this precise moment Stanford was frozen, he couldn't allow Bill to let you hurt yourself, you had nothing to do with all of this.

“Leave her out of this Bill, she has nothing to do with it”

“Oh oh it looks like I touched a nerve, know south you won't be able to protect her forever”

Without saying another word as Bill disappeared, Stanford was left speechless. He had to protect you at all costs, that's when he had the idea to ask his brother to come, Stanley, he could take the newspapers with him and prevent Bill from hurting you any more than he had planned.

A few days later you heard the doorbell ring, when you opened it you saw Ford, that's what you thought at first sight before he arrived pulling his double into the house.

"Stanley! Aren't you being followed?" "

What? Sorry? It's been years you haven't given me any news and suddenly you bring me here for no reason, you attack me and don't introduce me?"

You moved closer to them by putting your hand on Ford's shoulder just to reassure him, you remembered now it was your lover's twins. He had already spoken to you about it but very vaguely, you knew it was a sensitive subject so seeing him here was more or less impressive.

“Sorry, Stanley this is (Y/n) my partner, (Y/n) this is Stanley my twins”

“Nice to meet you (Y/n)”

“The pleasure is all mine”

You really thought it, Stan was someone who cared about doing well, at least he tried, you started to like him as friends of course you were madly in love with Ford, then one day when he came home from winter from work you saw Stan in the kitchen crying. You felt that something was wrong but you didn't want to believe it, you tried to convince yourself that it wasn't Ford.

"Hey Stan, is something wrong?"

“I- (Y/n) I’m terribly sorry but Ford and I had a big argument and and.”

A sob escaped his mouth as he started crying again, wanting to reassure him you took her in your arms rubbing her back hoping to make her feel better

“Shh, it’s not serious whatever happened we can figure it out together.”

“Ford has crossed the gate”

You froze.

Damn.

Ford went through the gate.

You may not have been a scientist but you knew what this portal represented, it had gone to another dimension and God only knows if it will ever come back Your eyes started to water and your vision became blurry, then you punched Stan. It happened on its own, you knew it wasn't intentional and he blamed himself but holy shit the man you loved was in another universe?

“Forgive me, I’m really sorry, I uh, I’m going to repair the portal, I swear, I’m going to do everything to bring him back.”

“It’s in my best interest, Stanley.”

He started working on the portal, you obviously helped him as best you could, at the beginning the cohabitation was going extremely badly due to the fact that you were angry with him and then after a while you ended up less TO DO. While Stan started to secretly jealous Ford for having you, you were so fucked up, you were beautiful smart funny and so many things in his eyes that you were just perfect Over the years you too began to fall in love with Stanley, you knew that he was not Stanford and that he never would be but you loved him for who he was, when the twins they were very surprised to see that their grunkle had a wife.

Everything was going extremely well, until Ford came back.He stood there in front of you, in front of you, the one who was supposed to be his girlfriend, the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He hit Stan because it was dangerous then he looked at you

“(Y/N), did you stay?”

“Of course yes, with Stan we did everything to bring you back”

He grimaced at the thought, you had spent 30 years with his flirty twin brother?

“I’m so happy to be back, I love you”

You looked down and so did Stan, then he understood, you heard surprised voices behind you, it was the twins who also understood very quickly

“(Y/n) you were dating Grunkle Stan!”

Mabel shouted almost as if it were obvious

“So, now you’re dating my brother.”

"I, Ford listen to me I'm terribly sorry I waited for you for years believe me but"

“No need to justify yourself (Y/n), I suspected that after 30 years you would have started your life again, I just didn’t think it would be with my brother.”

He decided to leave with the twins, remembering seeing you in a parallel dimension.

He remembers remembering very well. He traveled through dimensions and universes, then he fell into a universe where you both lived in Gravity falls, he saw you happy full of joy with himself, you were both in the garden enjoying summer to relax. It was this vision that allowed him to survive all these years, a better future for both of you.

Which does not exist in this universe..

#x reader #gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #ford pines #stanley pines #stan x reader #ford x reader

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watercat-atsea · 2 months ago

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Ok- Fidds third wheeling stancest

Anon I hope this is what you were actually talking about XD

Au ford never goes through the portal and together the 3 of them work to dismantle it and get rid of Bill for good.

Fidds would have to witness Stan and Ford desperately try to hide their newly formed sexual/romantic relationship from him. He was really happy to see them finally work out all their problems and forgive each other! It was nice to see the two brother feel comfortable with each other again. But it doesn’t stop there- no it kept escalating.

Fidds notices them sneaking into the same room together at night. Late at night while the brothers think Fidds is asleep, Stan tiptoes his way over to Ford’s bedroom. Interesting. Sure siblings can sleep next to each other, sure adult siblings don’t do that as often but they have been through a lot of traumatic events so it’s not weird or anything.

Then he notices the lingering touches. Hugs that last way too long. Hand on the shoulder that sits longer than a friendly reassurance. hugs from behind. a small quick and hidden kiss to the cheek.

After a while of this it finally happens, Fiddleford walks in on them mid make out. Fidds had just left the shack to go out to the store, halfway down the street he noticed he left his wallet. As he enters the house again there Stan and Ford are on the couch basically inhaling each others faces.

It would be a lie to say Fidds reacts positive to this. He doesn’t scream in disgust though. He just, leaves the house.

When he comes back, Ford and Stan and are sat at the kitchen table. The atmosphere is very somber, and the brothers look tense. The two have clearly been discussing what to say, but when Fiddleford actually walks in they lose all confidence.

Fidds is the first one to talk, he sits down across from them and awkwardly coughs into his hand. “Now Ford you know I ain’t one to care if you’re kissing boys or girls, but I didn’t expect this.”

Ford nods, “Er, yes I suppose no one expects this….”

A long stretch of silence lasts before Stan speaks up, “We figured you wouldn’t want to stay with us anymore. Just please don’t tell anyone. I don’t care about my reputation but I don’t want Ford being dragged down as well.”

“Stanley- we are in this together, don’t say that!” Ford sputters out, “but yes please don’t tell anyone.”

Fiddleford takes another moment to process this all, “We still have work to do, I wanna get rid of Bill for good or I won’t be able to sleep at night. I won’t be going anywhere just yet. I suppose… over time I will get use to the relationship ya’ll have. This is your house so I can’t stop what you do.”

Ford then lets out a large sigh of relief, he nods his head and gives Fiddleford a small smile “thank you”.

#stancest

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skeletboi · 3 months ago

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InTRIdimensional AU part 27!

First /// Previous /// Next

----------

Stan smiled in response. “I'd like ta know you.” he said, scooting closer. “What's your name?”

“Axolotl above, you're kidding, right? My name's Cam. And you're Stanley, I'm guessing, considering the five fingers.” Cam said with a put-upon sigh.

Stan blanched for a second, but quickly composed himself and smiled again, opening his mouth to speak. Cam started talking before he could.

“Your brother push you in the portal and you're trying to get back, or did he side with the Euclidian?” They asked, tilting their head in mock curiosity.

“Side with-” Stan started, but got distracted when the door to the bar opened.

“Oh.” Cam said, finally cracking a smile as they watched Fiddleford and Ford enter the bar. “I've only seen this once before. That's actually interesting. Y'all really fucked up, huh?”

Stan glanced back at Cam and frowned. “Wait, what is that supposed to mean!?”

Cam smiled as Fiddleford and Ford came up behind Stan.

“Stanley, did you really find the only other person with a mullet in this bar?” Ford asked tiredly.

“Hey-” Stan started.

“Yes he did.” Cam said, cutting Stan off as they narrowed their eyes at Ford. “How'd you fuck up so bad that all three of you ended up here?”

“How did I- what? Do I know you?!” Ford asked, a mix of incredulousness and fear in his voice as he studied Cam's face.

“Nah. But I've had the misfortune of meeting a few different versions of you. I'm assuming, by the whole gang being here, that you didn't side with whatever Euclidian you had. Hope you killed him, or you're really fucked.” Cam responded nonchalantly as they sipped at their drink.

“Different versions of me?!” Ford asked, his eyes lighting up in excitement. “How curious! But, no, we didn't have the chance to kill him yet. I'm still reeling about how he betrayed me.”

“Damn, fresh out the womb, huh? Portal-womb, I mean. That sounds gross. Forget I said that.” Cam replied with a grimace.

“There are others of us?” Fiddleford asked, nervously tapping his foot as he glanced around the bar. “How do ya know them, then? And whadaya mean ‘misfortune’ of meeting a few versions?”

“A lot of the versions of Ford that I've met have been the type to side with the Euclydian. We run in the same circles, you could say. Though, there are some less psychopathic versions I've run into.” Cam replied, then smiled at Fiddleford. “I've met a version or two of you, as well, and Stanley. I'm usually a fan of you, Fidds. You're clever.”

Fiddleford frowned, not happy with that vague answer, and Cam laughed.

“Look, a bit of free advice- and I don't give that often, so count yourselves lucky or some shit- stay away from other versions of yourselves! Especially the Stanford that wears the blue visor glasses, and the Fiddleford and Stanford with the blue snake-like Euclydian that try to sell you bath bombs. They are all bad news.” Cam explained.

“But wouldn't talking to them help us get further in our goal of defeating Bill?” Ford asked.

“They'll kill you before you get the chance. Well, the blue visor guy will, the other's will probably ignore you if you ignore them. The other version of all three of you might be helpful, but they were about as lost as y’all are now last time I saw them.” Cam said thoughtfully.

“That ain't helpful, and what in tarnation is a bathbomb?” Fiddleford asked.

“It's like for baths… You know- nevermind. Just stay away from them. If you end up in a dimension with other versions of yourself, don't touch them. It’ll destroy both of you and the universe they're in. That's all the free advice you get. So don’t die out there. Or do. Fuck if I care.” Cam said, turning away and sitting on a bar stool.

“Wait- wait. You obviously know some shit, and you're just going to leave us to the wolves here?!” Stan asked.

“Don't take it too hard. I like the versions I've met of you, too Stanley- but I got shit to do, people to kill, etcetera. Figure it out for yourself. I'm not the one who made a deal with a demon.” Cam said, not bothering to look away from their nearly-empty drink.

“Didja jus’ say people ta kill?!” Fiddleford asked, sounding nervous all over again.

Cam just huffed out a laugh in response and downed the rest of their drink.

“Do you know how to kill Bill?!” Ford asked.

“A way for you to kill Bill? I don't know. I could probably kill him, he's like, a lesser god or whatever. You'd need some type of dimension disrupter? Or get him to go in your head and then die? I don't even know if that would work. Probably not.” Cam mumbled, half to themselves as they frowned down at their now empty drink.

“A lesser god?” Fiddleford asked at the same time Ford said “Dimensional Disrupter?”

“Yeah sure those things.” Cam said, waving down the bartender and asking for another drink in a language Fiddleford and Ford didn't understand.

Stan took the dimensional translator out of his pocket and gave it a cursory glance before sighing and sitting down on one of the bar stools next to Cam.

Cam glanced over at him and gave a half smile.

“Or, take a page from Stan and my book and just drink about it!” Cam said, glancing over their shoulder at Fidds and Ford as they lifted their newly filled drink.

Fidds and Ford glanced at each other with matching frowns.

“That don’ sound like a good plan.” Fiddleford said.

“Agreed.” Ford added.

“Did building an interdimensional portal for malevolent god-like trigonometry sound like a good plan? I don't think you're one to talk.” Cam said.

Stan laughed and fist bumped Cam.

“That's…” Ford started, then sighed, “Fair enough. Maybe one drink.” He finished, taking a seat on the other side of Cam.

Fiddleford sighed and sat next to him.

Stan took out the translator and used it to order a drink for Ford and Fiddleford.

“Translator. Good start.” Cam said.

“Not much of a start without knowing where these next rifts lead.” Ford mumbled.

“Here. I know where this one goes.” Cam said, taking a knife out of a a belt on their side and slicing the air in front of them.

Ford looked on in interested wonder as a small rift opened in front of them.

“Wow, do you have another one of those?” He asked excitedly, reaching his hand out towards the rift.

“Fuck no.” Cam said, swiping the blade back up and closing the rift. “Humans can't go through these rifts anyway, you'll disintegrate. They're my… personal rifts.”

“Are you not human?” Stan asked.

Cam sheathed the knife and lifted a hand, a small flower bloomed in their palm.

“Fascinating.” Ford said with an excited smile. “What are you?”

“That's a rude question.” Cam responded, flicking their fingers out, causing the flower to burn to ash in their palm.

“What… species are you?” Ford tried.

“No.” Cam responded.

“Not even a hint?” Ford said, his excited smile turning to a frown.

“Check my wanted posters. There's probably a hint there.” Cam replied, then downed the rest of their drink and stood.

“Wanted posters?” Stan asked, his eyes lighting up at the prospect in a eerily similar way to his twin's expression from just minutes before.

Cam just laughed as they set some alien coins on the bar, then walked towards the door.

“Good luck out there.” They said, taking the knife from their belt and separating it in two.

They turned, swiped both blades across the air, and walked through the rift the blades created.

Stan, Ford, and Fidds watched until the glow of the rift faded, then turned back to their drinks.

“What in god's name jus’ happened?” Fiddleford asked after a moment.

“I'm not sure.” Stan said, glancing towards the bartender, who was distracted by another patron at the end of the bar. “But we can't pay for these drinks without weird space money. So I hope they left a good tip.” He took the money Cam left and pocketed it.

“That don’ seem smart. That Cam person looked like they could kill us all in a second. Prolly not a good enemy to make.” Fiddleford said nervously.

“It's a big universe. Hopefully we never run into them again.” Ford said with a shrug. “Better the enemy you know, or something.”

“I can practic'ly hear my gam rollin’ in her grave.” Fiddleford said, burying his face in his hands.

“What did they say to the bartender, anyway, Stan? Right before you also sat down and ordered a drink?” Ford asked.

“They said ‘I'm going to need another to deal with this lot. Ax save them, they'll be here awhile.’ Whatever the fuck that means.” Stan said, taking out the translator again and putting it on his wrist. “Looks like I'll be needing this more, so might as well wear it.”

“I don't get why you weren't wearing it before.” Ford mumbled.

“There wasn't a lot of different language going on in farm land.” Stan said. “Didn't want to risk losing it in one of those boxes or some shit.”

“Makes sense ta me.” Fiddleford said, downing the rest of his drink with an ease that peaked Stan’s interest. “We should take ‘nother one of those rifts out there. I gotta find the supplies ta make more a those watches.”

“Agreed.” Ford said, leaving his drink mostly full as he stood.

Stan nodded, downed the rest of his own drink, and left one of the multiple coins he had taken on the bar. Ford watched him, but didn't comment. They would need some type of money, and wasting it here wasn't a great option.

They all got up and high tailed it out of the bar before the bartender got the chance to see how much they left.

-----------

Bye, Cam, it was fun!

Don't @ me, I love them. They're so sassy. I might actually bring them back for a minute later on, but for now they just get this cute little cameo.

Anyways, the other au's mentioned here are as follows:

@aeli-tan-art 's Overlords AU

@squatch-and-stretch 's Mystery Trio Through the Multiverse AU

And

@orxinus 's MM!Ford from... an AU I unfortunately forgot the name of.

If you haven't already, go check them out! I love them.

The next part with be Cam's wanted poster because I do what I want- then there will be more of these three being ridiculous!

Edit: Cam's wanted poster here.

Thanks for reading!

#Intridimensional au #skeletboitag #gravity falls #stanford pines #fiddleford mcgucket #fiddauthor #gravityfalls #ford pines #stanley pines #gravity falls au #bill cipher

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tinfoil-jones · 3 months ago

Text

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 16

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here.

When Bill and Ford are in the dreamscape together, their dialogue is written normally. But if Bill and Ford are communicating in Fords head without the mindscape, Bills dialogue is in "italics", and Fords dialogue is in 'apostrophes and italics'.

First - Prev - Next

CH.16

“Stan?”

“What’s up, stretch?”

“To my understanding, you’re familiar with a… sizable number of illicit substances?”

“Why, you looking for a plug?”

“A… plug?”

“Ya know, a guy who can hook you up with stuff.”

“...Stan, I’m not looking for a drug dealer.”

“Good, because all of the ones I know hate my guts.”

“Are you familiar with a substance called Ketamine?”

“Special K? Haven’t used it, but I’ve heard of it. I heard it kinda does what magic mushrooms do, but without all the visions.”

“It’s a dissociative non-opioid, anesthetic, and analgesic.”

“So it’s like heroine, but it isn’t heroine?”

“Ain’t exactly like that, but you can think about it that way.”

“What about it?”

“I’ve reached out to a colleague in psychology about your case - don’t worry none, I didn’t use names or details - she told me about a hypnotherapy that’s assisted by ketamine.”

“Hypnosis? Like, mind control?”

“That’s a popular misconception - hypnotherapy has been called hypnotic suggestion, but the goal is to bring the patient in question into a greater state of focus with less peripheral awareness, so they may relax and turn their attention inward. Are you following me, Stan?”

“It… blocks out background noise?”

“In a way, yes, just with thoughts. I don’t believe your memories are gone, they’re just buried under a lot of mental clutter and distractions.”

“And ketamine helps with that?”

“It’s a dissociative drug, it’s meant to help with trauma by approaching it without connecting to it. Would you be interested in something like that?”

“I thought you said you weren’t an actual therapist, where would you even get-.”

“I’m not going to be conducting the session, it’s going to be that colleague I just mentioned.”

“... I dunno F, I don’t have the greatest history with shrinks.”

“You’ve seen therapists before?”

“Seen is…a word.”

“What happened?”

“Do the words ‘padded room’, ‘cozy jacket’, and ‘solitary confinement’ mean anything to you?”

“... Institutions don’t do sol-.”

“That’s what they want you to think. Anyways, half of the therapists I ever had quit because of me.”

“What about the other half?”

“Ended up in the same looney bin.”

“That can’t be true.”

“Your friend turned crazy as soon as we met.”

“Stanford is not crazy.”

“Can you say that with a straight face?”

“He’s eccentric.”

“Wait, he's gay? I thought he wasn’t anything.”

“That isn’t what eccentric means. And- back to topic, please. What if myself or Stanford were there with you and we didn’t leave you alone with the therapist? Would you agree then?”

“...Alright, if you really think it’ll help.”

“Excellent! Thank you, Stan; we’ll get you right as rain before you know it.”

“...Did we really need to talk about this in the afterglow?”

“Yeah we did.”

(...)

“You guys are on your own, I’m not getting in that thing.”

“Stanley, it is just a boat.”

“So was the Titanic, and it disappeared forever.”

“There have been talks about another expedition to find it.”

“Fiddleford, please. Stanley, this isn’t the ocean, this is a mere lake. Scuttlebutt Island is only accessible by boat.”

“I told you I’d help you on your monster hunting bullshit, but you didn’t mention we’d have to get on the water to do it.”

“Come on, at least get closer than the tree line.”

“No!”

“You are being ridiculous right now. You have faced drug lords, Mothman, loan sharks, and the actual Jersey Devil, and this is where you draw the-.”

“I wouldn’t make you do something if you didn’t want to, PhD.”

“...Fine. Stay here and watch over our campsite at least. If we’re not back by tonight-.”

“Yeah, yeah start arranging your funerals, got it.”

(...)

“What are your theories so far on this cryptid, Stanford?”

“Based on descriptions I’ve gathered from local reports, and limited sonar exploration, I believe the description most closely matches a marine reptile that disappeared in the Cretaceous–Paleogene extinction event; a plesiosaur. Or, at the very least, a distant descendant.”

“Sounds less like cryptozoology and more like paleontology. Maybe we should call it something else.”

“Such as?”

“How about Oddopoddo?”

“No.”

“Scuttlebdis?”

“A mouthful, really.”

“The Gobblewonker.”

“We’ll workshop it.”

“Well kettle my corn, it looks like we’re close to the shore; sure are a lot of big muskrats here.”

“Fiddleford, we both know those are beavers and not nutria.”

“Wait- Stanford, stop. Is that big rock formation over there… moving?”

(...)

“Heya Fordsy! You’re invoking Think Fast?”

“Think Fast?”

“You know, when you meditate into the Dreamscape so you can think faster than the time around you. What you’re doing right now.”

“You’ve never called it that before, my muse.”

“I know but for exposition purposes I need to call it something. Whattaya need to Think Fast for?”

“The cryptid we’ve termed “The Gobblewonker” chased us on our boat and trapped us in the islands cove. In an attempt to catch us, the creature slammed itself into the cave wall and triggered a rock slide. We’re trapped in a cavern and it is filling up with water, and the entrance was the only exit we knew of. Fiddleford is also unconscious, and cannot assist me.”

“Ooh, how dangerous. So, what are you going to do about it?”

“I need to be out-of-body while my perception is sped up so I can check for more exits without worrying about water or gravity.

“Out-of-body experience coming right up, IQ!”

(...)

‘Man, those guys have been gone for a while. They shoulda been back at least an hour ago.’

‘Whatever, PhD’s the monster hunter here, whatever trouble they get into he can probably handle it.’

‘...’

‘And even if he couldn’t, it’s not my problem. I’m only staying with him so I have a bed to sleep in and a roof over my head. It’s not like I actually care.’

‘He did kidnap me and stick me in his basement after all. And sure his friend is hot and gives great benefits, but it's not like he tried to free me even when he knew it was wrong.’

‘...’

‘So what if they might be in danger?'

'It doesn't bother me.’

‘It doesn't bother me.’

‘It bothers me!’

‘IT BOTHERS ME A LOT!’

(...)

“Fiddleford! Fiddleford, wake up!”

“Ow… my achin’ noggin-. Wha happened?”

“You saw the cryptid and fainted.”

“Where are we? Why’re we all wet?”

“We are trapped in a cavern that the Gobblewonker chased us into. There’s only one exit left - there’s a tunnel through and up this ridge, but it tapers off from loose rocks from a rockslide. You might be thin and flexible enough to squeeze through the hole that remains.”

“What about you?”

“On the other side I’d need you to manually move enough of these rocks so I can slide through as well. We can’t waste any time - the cavern is filling up with water faster than the exit could drain it.”

“Okay, I’ll get through slicker than owl sh-.”

“Fiddleford, this is no time for Southernisms.’

“Right, right. Yeeow, that’s smarts- I got most of both shoulders through Stanford but I’m gonna need a boost.”

“Alright, I‘ll push you on your count of three.”

“Gotcha. One, two, thre-! SWEET BABY JESUS-!”

“Are you okay?”

“I-. I think I w-wrenched out my damn shoulder…”

“Can you relocate it?”

“L-lemme try- HRK! No, not by myself. I’ll try to clear out the rubble with my good arm.”

“Alright but please, with the best of your ability, be quick.”

“Just keep talking to me, friend, I need to know that you’re still breathing back there.”

“It is not getting easier.”

“I’m moving, I’m moving. Just stay with me. We can do this.”

“I’m running out of headspace…”

“Come on- just a few more more rocks to go, I- Stanford? Stanford!”

“Sixer, I’m going to put your body in hibernation, it’s the only way you can preserve oxygen. It’s not cold enough for you to go into that state naturally.”

‘How much time does that buy me, Cipher?’

“About five more lines.”

‘Lines of what?’

“You’re about to find out.”

*water suddenly starts rushing out much faster, and a hand grabs Ford by the collar, dragging him out of the tunnel forcefully*

“-ay? Can you hear me, Stanford?”

“S… Stanley..?”

“Oh good, you came to on your own. I wasn’t gonna ‘kiss of life’ you.”

“Lord have mercy, you gave us a real fright there! You’re still shaking like a leaf on a tree, though.”

“Can you stand, Doc?”

“Y-yes, yes of course. Just- just help me up, please.”

“Yeah yeah, I gotcha.”

“It’s a good thing you came when you did, Stan, I wasn’t getting those rocks cleared fast enough.”

“What’s up with your arm, specs?”

“I dislocated my shoulder going through the tunnel.”

“Need help putting that back? It’s happened to me a couple times.”

“Actually, I think I’d rather- Stan?! Stan no-!”

POP

“There you go, good as new.”

“Ow…”

“Stanley?”

“What’s up?”

“Why’d you come here?”

“You guys were taking too long, figured something was up.”

“But… we are on an island, how did you get here?”

“Details ain’t important.”

“You’re also soaking wet.”

“Can it, PhD. I said details ain’t important.”

To be continued…

#for your own good #early amnesia au #anyone notice that Stan called Ford by his actual name #mystery trio #stanley pines #stan pines #stanford pines #ford pines #fiddleford hadron mcgucket #fiddleford mcgucket #bill cipher #fiddlestan #cross posted on ao3 #gravity falls #fanfic #fanfiction

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onethousandwords · 4 months ago

Text

Christian Elements in Gravity Falls, Part Two

See the first part here

I think we've covered most of the self-sacrificial theme I wanted to cover that occur in Gravity Falls, and I touched briefly on forgiveness. But I want to touch on it again particularly when it comes to Ford Pines.

This character, largely due to his pride (and while there are definitely a whole host of complicated reasons Ford has such issues relating to his father and Bill's manipulations - it can't be argued that this is a major issue for him), burns his bridges. He does it first and repeatedly with Stanley (though, Stan has his own issues, too - I'll acknowledge that - this is not a debate about which sibling is "better" - both of them have their good qualities and their flaws and needed forgiveness at some point), and then with Fiddleford (who is arguably a sweeter character but still flawed himself).

He's really at a point in his life where any forgiveness given to him would be unearned because of the actions he's taken in his life. He refused to talk to Stanley for over ten years over a broken science project, his fight with his brother due to prioritizing his work over his family leads to Stanley being branded (and though he expresses remorse over this - later circumstances lead him unable to make amends), the first thing he does when his brother brings him back is punch him in the face, he threatens to uproot Stan's entire life, he risks the entire world because he has to get in the last word.

And yet, when he reaches out to Stan, Stan forgives him (in all except one instance which also put the world at risk).

Let's go to Fiddleford. We get more insight about this character in Journal 3. We learn, for instance, that he crosses himself while stepping over graves, chastises Ford for saying "what the devil" and would likely disapprove of "black magic." This, and the fact he comes from Tennessee which is in the Bible Belt, would suggest he is Christian (the crossing himself part would suggest Catholicism). We learn that he's very giving and self-sacrificial.

You see this in particular with his relationship with Ford - he sets aside his own personal projects and his business to help Ford with his project, he puts up with traumatizing event after traumatizing event to help him, he works for three days without breaks to help Ford organize his research. He does this with other people as well - in Journal 3, you see him helping the carnival by fixing gears on the ferris wheel and listening to a fearful Ivan Wexler and while he definitely chose the wrong person to help, he also helped Gideon with his Gideon-bot. The lantern bit I mentioned in the first part of this also bears mentioning again.

Fiddleford is a helpful person - exactly the kind of person you'd expect to help a stranger broken down on the side of the road. Hebrews 13:16 - "Do not forget to do good and share with others for with such sacrifices God is pleased."

It sounds like Fiddleford really took that to heart. However, it seems he might have forgotten the part about how he is being sent as "sheep among wolves. So, be as cunning as serpents and as innocent as doves." - Matthew 10:16

It also seems in the midst of his fears and trauma, he didn't turn to his faith for help - instead, he turned to his memory-erasing gun (which has at times been seen as a metaphor for substance abuse) and destroyed much of his life. Ford had a hand in Fiddleford's decline (though, Fiddleford is also ultimately responsible for his own choices).

And yet, when Ford comes to him recognizing the wrong he's done Fiddleford (Ford took Fiddleford's self-sacrifices for granted, continually exposed him to dangerous situations, refused to listen to his warnings, refused his help), he is forgiven.

This unearned forgiveness and love that Stan and Fiddleford display to Ford are barely even a fraction of the unearned forgiveness and love Jesus Christ shows us when we come to him to ask for forgiveness of our sins and believe in his death on the cross and his resurrection and trust in Him to save us from damnation and death.

A couple of more minor things that I thought were interesting in Gravity Falls and pertain to Fiddleford's character. One thing I thought was interesting was how, as Old Man McGucket, he seems to have taken comfort and refuge in a church (broken down as it is). While it's possible he's forgotten a lot of things, maybe there's still a part of him that trusts God and remembers Him.

The next thing, at the end of the show, Fiddleford gets to move into a mansion which is sort of the show's way of making up for the trouble it put him through as well as rewarding him for his part in helping take down the main villain, Bill Cipher.

For some reason, it reminded me of a specific Bible verse:

John 14:2-3 - "In my Father's house, there are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go to prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself. That where I am, there you may be also."

So, I thought it was fitting that Fiddleford moved into a mansion at the end.

Though, I will add just as a matter of personal preference, I enjoy the translations of the Bible where rooms is used instead of mansions. Because it puts me in mind of this grand, beautiful house with many rooms, and many people including myself who have our own room, and there's this concept of "family togetherness."

Alex Hirsch put through a concept of people being "honorary members of the Pines family" which is good and sweet and kind. But how much better and sweeter and kinder is it to be a member of God's family? A loving, good, and merciful God who is waiting with open arms to accept anyone who comes to Him.

#Jesus #Christianity #Gravity Falls #Stanford Pines #Ford Pines #Stan Pines #Grunkle Stan #Fiddleford #Fiddleford McGucket #Old Man McGucket

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fakeusernamelol · 2 months ago

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Sorry I'm obsessed with bad ending teen dad stancest--

When Ford leaves home for college he takes Stan with him, Stan thinks it's fine, it's not their boat but it's basically what he used to wants, they're out of jersey and they're okay. Fiddleford asks him what he wants out of life sometimes but that question's made him sick since he was twelve and realized he wasn't smart enough to be much more than a housewife for whatever man he ended up with. Instead he tells Fiddleford he's gonna be a pirate, because it makes him laugh. Then Ford wants to go to Gravity Falls, and Stan's back to being alone with him. By the time they're 27 he's stopped trying to keep his hair short, he makes for a piss poor Ma as far as hes concerned but the twins aren't old enough to get that yet. Bill gets mad at Ford so Ford gets mad at Stan, and Stan sleeps on the floor next to the kids' beds because Ford's better than their father, he won't lay a hand on him in front of the kids, and Stan uses it because hes a conniving coward with a distant look in his eyes that their own Ma used to have.

But then the portal, it drives Fiddleford insane, Fiddleford tells him Ford is dangerous, that he's going to kill them. And Stan didn't believe it until he spent a night barricading a door covered in height marks and crayon while Bill tried to claw his way in and then the next morning when he caught Ford crying in front of the TV, Ford punched him full in the face in front of the twins.

So it was so easy, hitting Ford back for once, shoving him just a little too far and letting the portal take him away, leave Stan with the house and the kids and a new name to inherit and the freedom to cut his hair and get himself the glasses he needed and call himself Stan instead of what Ford called him.

SORRY IF I RAMBLED TOO MUCH IM EATING YOUR DRYWALL I NEED MORE AU--

would that be a win-lost or a win-win?

PLEASE PLEASE DON'T APOLOGISE WHEN YOU ARE GIVING ME EXACTLY WHAT I WANT, I LOVE YOU AND OF COURSE I'M GIVING YOU MORE DEAR ANON you and me are now friends and i don't take no for answer 🤭🤭💖💖💖 Also what a good name for this au, im using it now 😘

(tw: Transphobia, Misogyny, Abuse, a lot of implied noncon yadda yadda you already know where's this going 🤷)

Stanley needed something to hold on to try to survive this new life, it's not exactly what he always dreamed but it's not bad, he has ford and that's all he has always needed, isn't it? He can get used to, come on he has always been seen this way he can get through it.

But when he met Fiddleford those thoughts were becoming harder to support again, a new person, new air and new perspective. Sure he wasn't going to tell him all those crazy thoughts he had because that would make ford mad but he can express a little of it, fidds wouldn't ever know that those jokes were actually his dreams but at least he can say them and think a bit of them every once and then to distract a bit from the real life. Maybe... Who knows,maybe one day Ford wouldn't be this harsh with him and he and their kids could still sail the world once he's done with college! Joke's on him, of course they were going to do what ford had in mind and he can't say anything, after all if he's not in the streets is thanks to him so,heh, could be worse. going to miss fidds anyway...

But well, not time for thinking about himself, they are already grown adults and since he's not getting a job the least he can do is be a good as possible mom for their already 10-year-old twins. Ever since they've been in Gravity Falls, Stan can swear that he's seen all kinds of strange creatures but Ford seems delighted with it and only times he doesn't talk to him in a rude tone is when he says something about them so, it's not that scarier as it was the first times. He doesn't quite understand what Ford is actually doing with that information, but after that he goes to the basement and warns him and the kids to stay away from this as possible, and he's going to obey for his own sake.

...At least as much as he can because things are becoming even weirder, he has seen Ford obsess over an investigation before, but this time he seemed to be going genuinely crazy, not all bad tho, at least fidds was back again and having a new face in the place was genuinely a good thing for him, sure he was here for working but anyway stan would try to sneak up on them like bringing them something to drink after a long day of work in the basement, Ford wasn't so harsh when Fiddleford was around so he wasn't so scared to do that and share a few words with a good friend not knowing that ford would make him pay for that later.

« what did I tell you about going down the basement, [ ] ? You have your things upstairs with the kids. »

It was fine, he deserved it. He has never said anything about Ford's abuse, because ever his teenhood he knows he deserves it, He only knows how to screw things. Maybe if he hadn't broken that stupid machine ford would change his mind but he had to fuck it. Yes, he sometimes still daydreams about a world where ford could accept him, a world where ford would hug him often and not hurt him again and maybe, a world where he calls him stanley for once... but time has passed and his hope has faded away, Now he just wishes that thoughts to leave his mind once for all.

Suddenly things get worse. «they could?» it seems to be.

Ok, sleeping in the kids room wasn't so bad, sure the floor was cold and he only had a blanket in order to not die of hypothermia but at least he had his kids near him and that was fine, ford wouldn't try to make something to him with them near. Now, seeing the eyes of that friend he always thought of like a kind of safe place full of fear and warning him of such an unthinkable danger for him what's indeed something he would never forget and fuck shouldn't do it. He thinks he knew what Ford was capable to do, sure he's angry with him ever since and his touch is not the gentlest, but stan didn't think he would go so far as to endanger himself, much less his children... Seems like everything he thinks is really just bullshit, he says to himself while using his body to lock the door of the kids room while hearing those strange creepy laughs and scratches from behind the door.

Ok so things are going to be dangerous now, but the next morning when he sees ford crying with his hands in his face and his legs on the floor he gets second thoughts, something was wrong with ford, he don't get what but maybe he could...

So you know, Stan has endured a lot of things ford has done: the words, the insults, the abuse, the punches, the constant contempt and more but punching him in front of their kids was enough.

For the first time ever since that night in the bathroom floor stan had enough of ford and didn't even think twice before giving him the punch he has always deserved it. Not punch, punches.

HE was angry, HE was tired, and not even the cries of his little children in the background had made him stop while Ford tried, like the coward he really was, to flee from him when he saw that this time his blows were not saving him.

Funny, stan thought, « I always protected ya' from Crampelter and his herd, no matter what. Ya' we're afraid of givin' them a good punch but what about me, sixer? Are ya' scared of me now? »

Stanley was stupid, but he was stronger, even if ford has always despised him for being born as a woman, HE was stronger than him and for once he wasn't scared of his rejection.

But.. sure he didn't expect what happened next. He has never seen what he and fidds were doing in the basement and now, he knew it even less.

He was angry but fuck he didn't mean that! Why does everything have to be so complicated towards Ford? Fuck!

...On the bright side, those 30 years will serve Stanley well to realize everything that his brother held him back from for years, guess who's the one being welcomed with a punch in the face here. 😗

So, you can say the bad ending au got a good ending? Lol 🙆

#stancest #teen stancest #80s stancest #stancest prompts #teen dads au: bad ending edition #sorry i find it funny 🤣🤣🤣#i love you dear anon #made by me lol

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