#Gravity Falls Fanfic

[shabbyshoebox]

Storybook Sweater - Grunkle Stan & Mabel Drabble

Stan softly held the sweater in his hands, delicately darning the hole back together. A fishing pole was embroidered onto the front, with a felt fish applique "hooked" on the line.

Mabel had left him the remnants of the original ball of yarn it was knit from, some yarn needles, and a handmade booklet on how to do "Swiss Darning" (complete with pop-ups, glitter, and contrasting layers of yarn carefully glued down to show each step).

-

"Pfff, I want you to actually wear it!" Mabel had said, plopping the bundle of items into Stan's arms. "It's going to get torn on your adventures and it's going to tell so many stories- OH." She cut herself off and scribbled in her notebook, 'Storybook sweater w/ turnable pages'.

"I'm going to ruin it," he said. He lifted up the handknit maroon sweater, running his fingers over the stitches.

"That's the point, Grunkle Stan!" She gestured excitedly, accidentally sending the notebook and pen off the table.

"I'm right in front of you, Sweetie. You don't have to-"

"Grunkle Stan." Mabel had grabbed his face in her sticky hands- Stan hoped that it was glitter glue. Her eyes remained fixed on his. "You are going to wear this sweater. You are going to rip it, and tear it, and stain it. It's going on adventures with you, and I better see something wrong with it the next time I see you!" She then dropped her voice to a whisper, "This is your storybook sweater!"

"My...My what now?"

"Each part you fix is proof that you lived through something. I want you to point at a patched hole and tell me if it was made by pirates or merllamas!" Her eyes sparkled. "Promise me you'll wear it?"

"I promise."

-

So far, nothing exciting had happened to the sweater. He had caught it on a door latch twice, had spilled coffee on it once. Currently he was fixing a hole made by friction with his belt.

Stan pulled the fresh maroon yarn through the next row, smiling to himself as he found a dried piece of glitter glue on the thread.

He would have a good sweater story for her eventually.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

Stan Pines is the kind of man who can't just let you do anything without turning it into a compliment, like, every move you make, he's gotta say something. And it’s never normal. 

You could be bent over organising some random crap around the Mystery Shack and this man will make it sound like you’re posing for him. Because, yeah, you’re just trying to organize his disaster of a desk, sorting through all his crumpled receipts, ticket stubs, whatever the hell else he’s hoarded.

“Your doin’ god’s work, sugar,” and it’s not even subtle. You look over your shoulder, half expecting him to actually be paying attention to the pile of garbage you're dealing with, but no. He’s leaning against the counter, counting out cash from the register, but all you see is that smirk. The one that makes it very clear his mind ain’t on the paperwork.

“Sorting your trash is god’s work?” you quip back, rolling your eyes, but the way he’s watching you with that smirk of his, makes your cheeks flush a bit.

“You know what I mean,” Stan mutters and now he’s just full-on undressing you with his eyes, the cash in his hands forgotten. “ya ain’t gotta try so hard, baby, because ya could sit on your ass all day and I’d still think ya did somethin’ special.” and your face burns at that, but he sees it, of course, he does. Stan ain’t dumb, despite the act he puts on for tourists. He’s so much more clever than he looks, always has been. The moment he catches that excitement in your eyes, he’s grinning like he’s just won a damn lottery.

“You like that, huh? being told how good you are?”

You smirk back, trying to play it off, but your voice comes out a little breathier than you mean for it to. “all that for organizing receipts? maybe you should give me a raise.” 

Stan just laughs loudly. “yeah, sweetheart, you deserve the whole damn Shack.”

Or when, you’re just sitting at the counter, counting the cash from the register, going about your day and Stan? Well, Stan is “cleaning up,” which basically means he’s wiping the same spot for like five minutes straight while staring at you. You catch him, because he’s being too obvious with it. His eyes keep dipping to your lips every time you bite your pen and it’s distracting as hell.

“You’re too damn cute, y’know that?” he grumbles and it sounds like he’s mad about it, like you’ve done something wrong just by existing.

“You say that every day.” you shoot him a teasing smile, because yeah, this is the daily routine.

And Stan just sighs, smirking like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah, and I’ll keep sayin’ it, sorry, baby, couldn’t shut up about ya if I tried.” 

Then there’s when you’re fixing up one of the old displays, just tightening bolts or whatever and Stan’s “supervising.” Except by “supervising,” I mean, he’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching you work with that wide grin on his face, satisfied and clearly enjoying the view.

“Goddamn, honey,” he mutters. “you makin’ this place look good just by bein’ in it. Hm, maybe I should start charging you for the view.” 

You glance over your shoulder, raising your eyebrow, but smirking, because you know exactly what game he’s playing.

“What? I’d pay whatever ya want, sweetheart. You’re worth every penny.” 

Or you’re just in the kitchen, cutting up vegetables for dinner. The radio’s on low, the sun setting through the windows. Stan’s sitting at the table, pretending to read the newspaper, but every once in a while you catch him glancing over the edge, just watching you move around the kitchen. It’s quiet until he breaks it.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, y’know that?” his voice is so soft, too sincere for Stanley Pines, but when you look over, he’s still got that damn smirk on his face.

You pause, knife in hand, and raise an eyebrow. “For chopping onions?”

He chuckles, leaning back in his chair, arms behind his head. “Nah, sugar, it’s just the way you’re movin’ around in there, i dunno how to explain it, but damn, you look good in my kitchen.”

You snort, shaking your head. “I’m literally cutting onions, Stan.”

“Yeah, still sexy. That’s all I’m sayin’.”

Then there’s the mornings. You’re in the bathroom, brushing your teeth, hair a mess, wearing one of Stan’s old shirts that hangs way too big on you and he's leaning in the doorway, watching you like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. You catch his reflection in the mirror, raising an eyebrow at him, but he just shrugs with this lazy grin, continuing to admire to you.

“Can’t help it, sweetie, you look cute when you’re all domestic.”

you’re just brushing your teeth, but somehow, this man makes it sound like you’re doing the sexiest damn thing in the world

[socvincjpeg]

A BUNCH of doodles i did while reading one of my fav gf fics rn, then it becomes, it becomes, it becomes a problem by @i-love-you-go-away !! Heavily recommend it i'm completely hooked

[strawburry01]

She Blinded Me With Science

Summary: You and your college bestie Ford go hunt for the Mothman

AN: 2.6k words, there's some flirty friendship moments

Part 2

Hope you enjoy :)

“Forddddd!” you shouted as you slammed at his unfortunately closed dormitory door, ���open up Pines I know you’re in there you haven’t left all day!” you continued as you kept knocking louder.

“For god's sake how do you know that?” his muffled voice came through the door.

“Your desk light has been on all night and all day you dork, I know you’re neurotic about turning that light off!” you huffed as you finally stopped knocking. You heard some shuffling of books and chair legs on the ground as Ford eventually opened the door a crack. For supposedly having the nicest dorms in the east coast, you and Ford were both guilty of turning your respective rooms into chaotic mixes of museum, library, archive, and photo studio, in your case. You could see the precarious stacks of textbooks and notebooks behind Ford’s bespeckled face. He looks like he didn’t sleep last night, evidenced by his glasses at a slant and his brown hair mussed up around his forehead.

“Can I…come in?” you asked as you attempted to poke your head in closer, which caused Ford to nearly shut the door in your face. The two of you had met in your first week of university, both sitting in the back of the Physics 101 class, noticing halfway through the class that you were both muttering the correct answers under your breath. Since that class, you had both been the closest of both study partners, and friends. With you being the charming talker, and Ford being the logical brains, you had both moved up the ranks in Backupsmore University. On a drunken night at the end of the first year you’d both revealed to each other that this was never your first choice. For Ford, his project to get taken in by West Tech was sabotaged, keeping him on the east coast. For you, your family couldn’t afford anything else. With 3 younger siblings you knew that your needs were met, but you also had to compromise on a lot of things- for the rest of the family. Ford kept a lot of his own family secretive, only mentioning in the middle of a spring break trip to Canada that he had an identical twin brother which nearly caused you to flip the kayak you were both in. But you were never one to push Ford too far out of his comfort zone. You recognized he was a private person, but also an incredibly bright and witty person. Someone you really liked hanging out with and spending time around. 

“No!” Ford said, “I mean uhm…what do you want?” he corrected himself, still keeping the door only open a sliver. You raised your eyebrow and leaned against the doorway yourself. He was hiding something, and poorly.

“Is there a girl in there Ford?” you whispered with a smirk, knowing there’s no shot in hell it would be the case. His face turned red as he shut the door and unchained the locks before swinging it open fully. You knew he rarely ever hung out with other people, aside from his Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons gaming group and fellow student Fiddleford. 

“No, no females in here, just a damn letter,” he sighed as he ran his hand through his hair as he turned, “it’s the grant letter,” he said as he pointed to it on his desk. You stepped in and sure enough, his desk was somehow cleared, most of the mess being moved to his bed now, with a white envelope addressed to him. 

Stanford Pines, Room 313, Backupsmore University.

“Well shit have you opened it?” you asked, standing besides him as you both stared at the envelope. He applied for a large grant for research months ago, and after tedious interview after interview, this could be it.

“No, I can’t bring myself to. It’s Schrodinger's envelope. Until I open it I could’ve won it or not. I can’t do it. I can’t face the certainty of opening it- either one,” he sighed as he pinched his glasses on his nose, going through the same logic he’d been grappling with for the past hours.

You slowly nodded. He wound himself up like this often. Paralyzed with choice. You personally were the type to make a choice and force it to be the right one- somehow make it correct or at least work out for you. Ford on the other hand needed to know that it was going to be the right one from the beginning. Once again, the logical one.

What had worked before though was you distracting him. Getting him out of his head. Or at least his room.

“Want to check out Point Pleasant? Been reports of some unusual behavior from there recently,” you mused, breaking the silence. You could practically hear the gears in his head turning. “My camcorder’s all charged, I just need your car,” you grinned at him. He couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as he sighed.

“Okay, okay, fine,” he said as he took one last look at the envelope before grabbing his coat and keys. You silently pumped your fist as you fished your camcorder out of your bag. It was covered in random stickers you’d gotten over the years of owning it, from fruit stickers, to band stickers.

There was another thing that brought you and Ford together. An affinity for the unexplained and weird. It had always piqued your interest since you were a child living in the forest, seeing things that practical textbook science couldn’t explain and going headfirst into the unknown. Ford grew to share your passion for this after getting his skepticism proved wrong after tagging along for a few of your drives out to cryptid and weirdness hotspots. Bigfoots, ghosts, aliens, fairies, you’d hear a rumor and you’d grab your camcorder to go check it out yourself. Ford himself realized that he’d been viewed as something different in his own life having six fingers on each hand. The way that you got so excited and enamored with weirdness though made him feel less self conscious about his own quirks. You thrived on the unexplainable, and it eventually began to rub off on him. He could explain most equations and experiments, but he loved the challenge of not knowing how to explain something, which he seemed to always find when he followed you. 

You slid into the familiar passenger seat of Ford’s red 1960 Popular 100E, which was a little car that suited his personality well. He began the engine as you instinctively began flicking through radio channels trying to find some good music. 

The sun was starting to set which was turning the sky a pinkish yellow hue. You turned your camcorder to the sky and started filming.

“Tonight I come to you with a breaking case joined again by my dearest companion Ford Pines,” you begin as you dramatically squirm in your seat to zoom in on Ford’s face who blushes and laughs, but doesn’t take his eyes off the road. He prided himself on his safe driving, which often bored you. “Let’s take a step back my friends into a time before humans, a time before these roads meant anything, a time of empty forest and beautiful lands untouched by buildings,” you continued as you turned back to the sunset, “imagine soaring above this beautiful area one day and then BAM!” you shouted, twisting back to Ford trying to catch him off guard. No luck though. “A billboard! A damn city has popped up in your turf! Where you were just chilling one day. Unbelievable,” you sighed as you turned back to the now darkening sky. “That my friends is the story of today’s search, the elusive and illustrious Mothman,” you said, which caused Ford to scoff,

“You’re kidding me Y/N, Mothman?”. You stopped your recording and put your camcorder back down. 

“You’ve already started driving, it's too late to turn back now,” you hummed as you went back to clicking through channels, “just trust me Ford I’ve never let you down,”. 

The two of you kept driving into the night, discussing recent classes and homework, and you trying to fill Ford in on recent gossip. The car rolled into Point Pleasant around 1:32 am, which is where you sat up again and turned on your screen. Slowly directing Ford down an overgrown path outside of town. Stopped by a closed gate warning to turn back you grinned maniacally as you jumped out the car practically before Ford could stop it. You climbed over the gate with Ford trailing behind you, muttering about tetanus and safety. 

“We start here, on an abandoned road,” you said as you panned around the forest “where this Mothman has been reported to be seen earlier this week,” you continued, “once again with my trusty partner Ford,” you added zooming in and out on Ford who was crouched down looking at the mud.

“Seems fresh,” he said as he pointed to a large claw prints on the ground, with what looked like a walking pattern of a human. Ford pulled out his notebook, which was a precariously put together collection of notes and drawings he started once he started going out on these adventures with you. You had your camcorder, and he had his notebook. It was a spiral notebook you’d gotten for him after getting tired of seeing him lose his sketches he’d done earlier on napkins, although the amount of wear and tear it got was already causing the spiral part of it to get stuck in some spots.

You zoomed in on the footprints and kept your camcorder down as you followed them farther and farther until you felt a strong gust of wind. You slowly brought your camcorder up to a tree in front of you, where a pair of glowing red eyes looked back down at you.

“Whoah,” you said softly as you marveled at the size of the creature in the tree as your saw the 7 foot feathered? furry? thing sitting in the branch, staring back down at you. You kept your camcorder and eyes on the creature, bewildered as you felt two familiar hands on your hips slowly pulling you back.

“Y/N we gotta go,” Ford whispered in your ear as he kept trying to scoot you back.

“Ford wait-” you protested as you tried to shoo him, which only tightened his hold and urgency.

“Y/N this thing does not play friendly,” he urged again, grabbing your head and forcing it to the pile of deer and other forest animal skeletons nearby that you had missed before. To seal the deal the two of you both heard the creak of the branch and flapping of wings as the Mothman jumped off the perch. 

Very quickly you grabbed Ford’s hand as the two of you began hauling ass back to his car, knowing it would supply a little bit of safety from the claws of the creature. Above there was a screech similar to a bird as you both dove into the car with you flopping on top of Ford as he started to fumble for his keys and scooting to the drivers seat. 

“A show folks! We have a show!” you shouted to the camcorder as you tried to get a view of the Mothman through the window, “we’ve discovered that our Mothman friend is NOT a vegetarian I fear!”. Ford frantically started the car and began reversing back the way the two of you had come. 

There was a loud thump onto the top of the car as you both looked at each other. It was on top of the car. Shit.

Ford continued trying to reverse down the overgrown trail as you resorted to honking the horn for him to try and get the Mothman off the top of the car. The car jolted as the Mothman jumped off the car, letting the both of you take a breath as you rejoined the paved road. 

“Damn that was crazy!” you said as Ford turned the car back into the road. He opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by both of your screams as the behemoth of the Mothman slammed down onto the hood of the car, metal screeching beneath the claws as it gripped on. 

“YOU SPOKE TOO SOON!” Ford shouted as he attempted to honk the horn, which only seemed to peeve the creature off more as it attempted to hit the windshield. You fumbled with your camcorder once again trying to film this scene as Ford continued to let out a string of curses. 

“Try and throw him off!” you shouted as you grabbed the side of the wheel and yanked it right, very grateful nobody else was on the road. The Mothman certainly wasn’t expecting it as it lost its balance careening off the side before Ford narrowly dodged it to not run it over. He pressed the accelerator all the way down as he tried to put as much distance between the car and the temporarily stunned Mothman.

You were out of breath as you laid your head back onto the seat, taking in the avoided danger. Grateful it wasn’t any worse. The tinny of the radio was the only noise in the car as the two of you stared at the mangled hood of the car.

“Ford I’m-”

“I got the grant,” he said before you could apologize, “I got the full 100 thousand dollars,”. You punched his shoulder excitedly.

“STANFORD PINES!” you shouted as you continued to hit his arm which made him grin and look over at you, “HELL YEAH YOU DID!”. You were overjoyed for your friend. He was the hardest working student and person you knew and truly deserved the cash to make his dreams happen. “I can’t believe you opened it! You had me going! Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked as you settled back down. He shrugged,

“I don’t know- I couldn’t think of how to tell you. I opened it at midnight last night and I’ve been trying to think of how to since then-” he said, “You’ve done so much to help me get it and- I just needed to do it justice,” he sighed. 

You gripped his arm again and gently shook it,

“I’m so fucking happy for you Ford this is going to change everything!” you smiled, “what are you going to do with it all?” you asked.

He let out a sigh, “I want to do this. Full time,” he said, “There’s a place, in Oregon, over in the Pacific Northwest- there’s something supernatural happening there based on my research and I there’s some land available already,” he continued, “I want to make a lab, a honest research lab, to do this sort of cryptid, oddities, weirdness hunting full time,”. 

The car was silent as he sat with himself.

“Damn that was the first time I’ve really said it out loud,” he laughed nervously as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“I think that sounds great Ford,” you nodded with a smile as you continued to gently rub his arm to make him feel a little better.

“But I need you there,” he said, confidently, “You got me hooked on this stuff, and you have a real knack for it. It’s only right if you come with,”. 

“I would be honored, Ford are you kidding me!?” you said excitedly as you squeezed his hand quickly on the wheel.

“It’s going to be really messy, and I don’t know how I’m going to move everything, but I need you to be there with me to make this work,” he said with a firm nod.

“And I’ll be there,” you nodded back as you sat back into your seat, looking back out at the dark road. You couldn’t help but feel giddy at the future Ford had just invited you to.

[pix-writes]

for the nsfw request for Stan and Ford (which tbh is more like a question lol also be completely free to not answer in case you don't want to); what kind of noises do they make? or they don't make a noise at all? Thank you!!

No problem, thanks for asking!

Under cut as is 18+

STANLEY:

He seems like the kind of guy who would grunt and moan a little, he's not quiet but he's not loud either, as he wants to hear his partner's sounds most of all, but sometimes he can't be quiet either cause it just feels too good. (Also likes to hear the squeak or rattle of whatever furniture he's got you placed on/bent over when you get into it, has broken a worn out, shoddy table or two in his time!)

Knows from experience that a lot of partners like him to make some noise 😉 (say thank you to the ladies who taught him this). Though the very point where he does come, he's practically silent. Will pant and groan afterwards though.

Stan in everyday life is sorta what you get in bed too, just more unfiltered, he opens his mouth to say all sorts of dirty things and feedback about how good you're doing/feel and things he wants to do to you and praises you when you respond in the way he wants. Depends on the circumstances though, as if he's totally in the moment he doesn't run his mouth so much. Can also be more playful too, so at times he'll try to make his partner laugh or be totally cheesy (cue awfully obvious rp where he pretends you're some beautiful/handsome stranger), you might get a chuckle out of him as well. On the other hand, if you manage to rile him up enough, Stan will practically growl in your ear 🥴

If it's just him by himself though, he doesn't make too much sound at all, just moans a little, definitely has that depressing post nut clarity and feels a bit guilty for taking himself in hand.

STANFORD:

Tries to control his volume. Is not successful!

This guy is painfully touch starved and is making up for lost time once he's with a partner, so ends up being unable to censor all the sounds that come out of him from feeling someone else's touch. I'd say his volume is about medium, though, as he does have some self-control. However, once he starts to feel remotely close to orgasm, he will get increasingly more whiny. Increasingly desperate towards climax and starts begging you or saying things, it's so garbled though you don't even know if it's proper sentences or just nonsensical babble. Cannot contain his cries of pleasure when he finally does climax! 🤭 (Edge this man if you want but get soundproofing if you do, otherwise even the neighbours will be able to hear what you're getting up to!)

Doesn't talk too much during, mostly lost in it, will keep giving you necessary instruction or feedback, though. Mostly moans, groans and whines, praises you for how good you are/feel. Though, I think once he starts to get into a relationship and gain confidence/experience, will be more able to control his volume and will run his mouth more, if that's something you're into. Will pleasure you and not let you touch him so he can focus on talking you through it 🫠 gets a little cocky once he finds out that you like the sound of his deep voice (what have you unleashed upon yourself??!!!!)

Thinks that his self pleasure is about average but is probably below average, sees it more as relieving stress than for indulgence in fantasies, feels alienated by the way most men would talk about it as it doesn't fit his experiences at all (e.g. thinks most men exaggerate their drive and promiscuity... Probably not wrong, but I hc that Ford is on the ace spectrum somewhere, probably demi sexual, but doesn't know until the twins tell him about lgbt+ identities). Helps him to sleep, though didn't feel safe enough to do it much at all during his portal days, as he was often on the run. Is often intentionally quiet when doing it because he often is in places where the walls are thin or he needs to hear if he might be walked in on (because it's likely to happen; is happy that so far he's never been caught) still moans a lot when he comes though.

[uno-san]

Hiii! Could I rq reader who was Fords gf/so before he left and when he comes back he’s happy bc he realizes reader stayed in Gravity Falls the whole time and maybe even helped Stan fix the portal!

But then Bill comes and it’s totally up to u whether to make Bill like super jealous of reader or become just as obsessed with reader as he is with Ford idk.

Thank u!

Hello! Thanks so much for sending in a request. This is the first thing I've written in FOREVER, so I miiiiight have gotten carried away. Hope you and everybody else enjoys!

It always reminded you of the night sky. 

That, or what lied far beyond it. Beyond you, maybe. But never Stanford Pines. Who, in this very moment stood several yards from where you yourself were. The both of you had that strange, not-quite night sky wrapped around your forms. Yet instead of the endless expanse that space was known for, various journals, textbooks, and equations littered that space around you.

It would have been a marvelous sight if you didn’t know the purpose behind this all-too tailored world for Stanford. A trap meant to make him feel seen and applauded in ways you couldn’t quite match. A place for them to meet.

Beside Stanford was another figure. A three-sided one to be exact who had taken place near his shoulder, where he had been far longer than you could have ever known. But here he didn’t need to whisper his lies. Here, the two of them could simply converse and enjoy each other’s company. A wonderful plan to make Stanford feel known while also shutting you out from the light altogether.

Their laughter was uproarious.

“AHAHAHAHA! COME ON, SIXER, YOU DON’T MEAN THAT!”

A shrill voice cut through your observations. The devilish figure that it belonged to had placed his hands over his chest, or stomach, as if he were trying and failing to hold in his joy. His one eye was closed and curved to show a smile that his body didn’t have the means to actually do. His tie meanwhile spun in circles as if a toy had been wound up.

‘Sixer’ had his eyes lowered to the platform of which he stood. Tucked under his arm was one of his prized journals, where each of his six fingers drummed against its spine. He looked bashful under interrogation.

“What, not quite the term your ego would prefer, Bill?” Stanford finally shot back, his gaze raising to meet Bill’s while his eyebrow raised to pose a challenge.

“NOT AT ALL!” 

The demon began to circle around Stanford, who’s whole body began to turn with a determination not to break eye contact again. As if he were afraid of losing sight of Bill. Or his attention. Seeing it reminded you of a puppy enamored with its owner. Its everything, really. You had been familiar with it at some point yourself. What felt like ages ago now.

“JUST SURPRISED, IS ALL. I MEAN, AAAAAAAAALL I’VE DONE IS EXPAND YOUR MIND TO THE UNIVERSE OUTSIDE YOUR PUNY WORLD, SHOW YOU NEW COLORS, AND GIVE YOU THE PERFECT COMEBACKS EVERY TIME YOU GET INTO AN ARGUMENT,” He humbly bragged, “BUT IS THAT ALL REALLY WORTH IT TO BE CALLED YOUR-”

MUSE.

Muse.

Muse.

Muse. Muse. Muse. Muse. Muse. Muse. Muse. Muse. Muse. Muse.

That damn word was going to be imprinted on your brain with how often it was quite literally repeating. Out Loud. High-pitched and nearly shattering your ear drums, a physical manifestation of the word appeared in the space to hurl itself in your direction; A move you’ve seen one too many times. You nimbly dodged off to the side without losing your footing like you had the first time this occurred. With both your feet planted firmly on the ground you whipped your head around to catch the end of the show.

The scene had frozen. Stanford’s expression was stuck in a form of denial, his cheeks tinted a rosy color that you used to make them turn. His brow was furrowed as if he were concerned. Or desperate to assure Bill that he truly was worth it all. Bill meanwhile had his arms folded behind his back while his half-lidded eye bore down on its prey like a benevolent mentor.

Bill’s pupil slowly slid in your direction.

“A BENEVOLENT MUSE, YOU MEAN.”

Bill Cipher became animated again. This time he no longer addressed the version of Stanford standing before him. His smug attention was all focused on you now. His small frame managed to tower over you in mere presence alone, even at the distance you two stood at.

Arms folded behind his back, there was a silence that followed while Bill inspected you. Perhaps waiting for you to give a response before he settled on his own. He feigned surprise.

“DIDN’T EXPECT TO CATCH YOU HERE. SIXER AND I WERE JUST HAVING A MOMENT ALONE,” Bill emphasized, his arm outstretching far past its supposed physical limit to wrap itself around Stanford’s still frame, “YOU KNOW, LIKE WE’VE BEEN HAVING FOR A WHILE. BEHIND YOUR BACK. IN FACT HE WAS JUST ABOUT TO GET TO COMPLIMENTING ME. SINCE I’M HIS MUSE. HIS SKY. STARS. WHATEVER.”

Muse.

Another manifestation hurled its way in your direction. You weren’t nearly as prepared and the edges of the word were sharp, slicing into your arm to draw what you assumed to be blood. With a wince you had to steady your balance before your glare shot back to the bastard in front of you.

He was a menace who you hadn’t realized you had been in competition with for years. And now, in a pissing contest with as the man you’re both fighting over like teenagers was lost in worlds unknown. The man you had loved and had been prepared to marry was gone now. Leaving you with his unfaithful ‘Muse’.

Oh, how you’ve come to hate the word.

It happened first when you had learned of the existence of an other-worldly being that had been secretly leading Stanford’s ambitions. Second was when you had discovered Ford’s hidden collection of idols and paintings. All squirreled away in a private chamber of his own viewing pleasure. That had been manageable.

But the fondness in his gaze when discussing their meetings made your heart ache. How he’d talk as if Bill Cipher was the sole purpose of everything now. His reason for continuing his research or facing adversity for his talents. Or the way he’d pause in the middle of a task to instead laugh at a memory of Bill from earlier, with his hands looking to busy themselves as a distraction.

All of that had hurt. But what made you hate the word most of all was its constant use to torture you. That the moment Bill had sensed your distaste for the term he had done nothing but plague your mind with it. Shoving it in your face as if he was a secret side woman in some stately affair.

Thus far this has been your nightly routine for several months now. Ever since Stanford Pines went missing from this world and so many others. With his brother, Stanley, being left behind with you to pick up the pieces to get back your lost loved one. And for some reason or other, Bill had set his sights on tormenting you.

Every night. Different visions of their bonded moments played in your mind while Bill sneered and poked fun at you for being fool enough to never notice the signs of your man slipping away. You never knew if what he showed you was true. You hoped not.

“THEY’RE REAL.”

You ignore him a moment to get back on two feet. Standing tall before him.

“Do you plan on taking me through your ‘Greatest Hits’ every night or are you going to fuck off already?” The venom in your tone caused interest to gleam in his eye. Most nights you try not to dignify his taunts with a response. But you were tired. Both mentally and physically thanks to late nights with Stanley to try to get the portal running again, or your lonely crying sessions blaming yourself for letting this go on for so long. You were exhausted.

“AW, DIDN’T THINK YOU’D GET SO CRANKY OVER A LITTLE FUN FORDSY AND I WERE HAVING! I’M SURE IT’S EASY TO GET INSECURE OVER THE IDEA OF YOUR MAN GETTING THE CHANCE TO VISIT A SUPERIOR BEING EVERY NIGHT BUT HE MENTIONED YOU ONCE OR TWICE. Y’KNOW, ABOUT HOW YOU’RE ‘SAFE’ AND ‘STABLE’.”

You knew he was just trying to get a rise out of you. Perhaps even deter you from working on that portal any further, ensuring that Stanford would remain lost to mystery forevermore. “Say what you want Bill but I know him better than what your mind creeping could ever do. You miscalculated by seeing only the parts that benefited you and that’s going to end up biting you in the ass. Because it doesn’t matter what you and Stanford had before. Whatever was there is GONE, and I know that Stanford will be coming to end you too.”

It was difficult to keep your voice steady to feign the confidence that you hadn’t had in a long time. You stood bravely in the face of Bill, who’s form only grew in size while you charged up your own argument. He was nearly towering over you now while his gaze remained steady on you. His expression was unreadable.

“WELL WELL WELL, I-”

He’s yapped for far too long.

“Maybe that’s the point to all of this,” You gestured to the spectacle put on pause, “You realize you fucked up. Pushed too hard. Or maybe you’re not even playing this for me. You’re just trying to convince yourself that Ford is still in the palm of your hand when in reality, he despises you. Wants you dead. That despite all the compliments and praises you keep showing me he still picked me over you.”

You weren’t sure if any of this was going to strike a chord. Especially with being in the dark as long as you had, there was nothing for you to fight with. The best you could do was treat him like the vindictive affair partner he was pretending to be. And it worked. Or it was the hint of a suggestion you made in saying you were chosen over him.

Bill’s form skyrocketed in size from its already heightened form, with the triangle now bending over you now to force you to nearly tilt your head all the way back just to make eye contact. His pupil was entirely black to reflect your new surroundings as the static image of Ford and their place of contact was suddenly whisked away. What used to be a bright yellow turned to blood-red bricks that you swore you could feel heat coming off of.

“STANFORD PINES FEARS ME,” Bill’s voice boomed, “AND THAT’S EXACTLY WHERE I WANT HIM. THINKING OF ME AND CHASING AFTER MY COATTAILS UNTIL THAT NERD COMES TO REASON. AND UNTIL THEN YOU-”

His fingers snapped. The ground beneath you disappeared and you felt weightlessness hit as you began to descend into a dark pit. “YOU WILL NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN!”

The vision of the gigantic demon began to fade away. His voice still boomed and echoed despite the void that they were shouted into. As your conscience begins to fade into its own form of nothing you close your eyes to instead repeat his words to yourself.

Never see him again.

__

The Mystery Shack above you groaned with disapproval. Its wood and structure creaked as it finally settled back on the ground, thankfully still supported by its own weight once gravity returned to normal. You were face first on the ground with your head still spinning from that hasty landing you made to resist any damage. With just one peek of an eye you could see that your vision was still hazy. Only a sickeningly familiar blue light kept the basement of the Shack from being in total darkness.

Darkened figures up ahead began to move. When you tried to join them you were quick to discover that your leg caught in debris. A quick examination told you that it wasn’t anything dangerous like active machinery, and the small tugs you gave to test your aching body showed that nothing was quite broken. Hurt, yes, but all intact.

Just like the house you could feel your bones settling back into place while creaking with resentment. You could only imagine how Stanley must have been feeling. Propping yourself up with one arm you then used your freehand to begin pulling away at the rubble on top of you, trying to carefully dismantle it piece by piece so that it wouldn’t collapse on top of you.

Having been so focused on your escape you had only caught the tail-end of what Stanley was telling dipper.

“The author of the Journals…”

Your head whipped around so fast it could have snapped, “My brother.”

As if on cue a figure cladded in a black cloak removed his mask with a six fingered hand, his silver hair whipping around him as he slowly revealed a face you thought you could have anticipated after having aged years with Stanley. The fact that they were twins did little to stop you from tearing up at the handsome visage that was your Stanford Pines.

The wrinkles in his face had deepened from the last you saw him. He was still chiseled with a hint of facial hair he might have shaved off recently while his posture and expression gave off a confidence you weren’t familiar with.

Stanley began to approach him with open arms, prepared to greet the brother he’s missed for years for longer than yours. Stanford didn’t match his sentiments. Instead his fist drew back to strike Stan who had flinched out of the way- But not before Stanford’s fist froze. Left hanging in the air as something else caught his attention. Past Stanley and Dipper. Through various piles of cement and broken wood.

You.

Neither of you moved. His eyes flickered back and forth in a manner that suggested he was examining you all the same. Taking in every detail of your graying form, of each new wrinkle that has marked your age like a tree. The intensity of his gaze made your heart stall for more reasons you could count.

Was that disappointment in his gaze? Or worse, indifference? The world had already been cruel in tearing you apart in the first place. How easy would it be to have Stanford simply forget you? To have moved on to grander and exciting things since his time away. After all, Bill Cipher had enticed him once before. YOU nearly lost him once before. Who’s to say you haven’t wasted your years chasing after a man who could no longer remember your face?

Tears began to gather. They soothed the sting of debris in the air to instead replace it with a dull ache in your heart. At this point you could have been crying over any number of things. You tried calling out his name but the words caught in your throat.

He shouted yours instead. Pushing passed his stunned brother and great nephew to run in your direction. Just as Stanford was a few feet away he suddenly dropped to his knees to slide the remaining distance. It was a physical endeavor you envied in this moment.

Already Stanford’s arms wrapped around your form, drawing you in close to his chest while he buried his face into your hair. You didn’t dare utter a sound of discomfort. Swallowing your tears you chose to focus on his warmth rather than the pain your body was in. How much studier his arms felt from the last time you were held in them, however long ago that was.

“M…My dear…” Stanford gasped, as if the term of endearment hadn’t been uttered in history before. His six fingers nearly dug into your body with his tight grasp. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “This…This is real. Bill isn’t lying again. You’re here. You.”

From the corner of your vision you could see both Soos and Mabel staring in wonder. Their mouths were left hanging open while they slowly turned to each other to clasp hands together. Mabel began to mouth ‘they have a histooooory!!’

You opted to turn your face into Stanford’s chest to ignore all that as long as you could.

“All these years I’ve waited here for you, Stanford. Every year was spent fixing the portal, I-” Your eyes wandered to his twin, “-We’ve been fixing the portal. Stan and I together decided we weren’t going to stop until you were home safe.”

Stanford drew in a breath. The tension that coiled his posture was a familiar sign of his frustrations being withheld, and with the copious warnings in his Journals to not open the portal again you had a fairly safe guess as to what that tension was. Stanford managed to swallow it down as his hand cupped your cheek and directed your eyes to his.

The years have really gone by. For the both of you, you realized as you gazed into weary and worldly eyes. Did he see the same thing in you? Or has it occurred to him just how truly long it's been since the two of you were close like this. Since way before he was lost in the first place. To where Bill’s schemes began to put the first cracks in the foundations of your relationship.

From the distance the portal still glowed a blue hue, flickering every few moments as the machine began to lose its life at long last for what you pray is the last time. Both of you were left illuminated with blue. The beautiful sight of Stanford had been imprinted on your mind, nearly washing away the years of trauma the color had come to be associated with.

You could have sworn Stanford’s eyes were brimming with tears as well before they closed, the distance between you two gone as he leaned down to capture your quivering lips in a kiss. With it came the relief of a thirty-year grief. Not of a healed relationship but of a path to recovery and trust. You nearly grinned into the kiss. Stanford Pines chose you.

[catsandbats13]

So i made fan art for my own fanfic lmao

This scene in Scaryoke Scars has been stuck in my head for ages so i had to doodle it to exorcise it from my brain

The “grabbing someone by their lapels to kiss them” trope has always had me in a chokehold so there’s no way I wasn’t going to include that in my Stan x reader fic

I’m still writing the third part of the Scaryoke Scars series, but the first two fics are finished and on ao3!

[selineram3421]

👁️

You're Off-key

Part 1

Prologue

Reader X Gravity Falls

Warnings ⚠

⚠ italics=thoughts, swear words, some or many book of bill spoils, blood, mentions of a concussion, minor panic attack, we pacing now lol, ugh Disney mention ⚠

Ow..

You woke up in pain and the sunlight hitting your eyes.

Everything hurt.

Like a lot.

Geez.. You thought with a groan. Why is everything so bright? What is this vividness? Disney?

Sitting up, you notice that you're still in the woods and it's around noon or at least in the afternoon. Rubbing the back of your head, you try to remember what happened.

I was in the woods..with spaghetti and..my best friend was going to take my picture. Ow-!

You hiss and you pull your hand away from your head, finding blood once getting a look at it.

"Oof ok, time to go get help.", you said to yourself and stood up.

Like any gamer out there, you checked your surroundings before checking your inventory. So far you were deep in the woods that looked oddly..cartoonish? And you had a backpack nearby with a water bottle, phone, and wallet inside.

Where's my flashlight? Wait, I had a flashlight? Also, where's by bestie?

Every time you thought about it your head would start hurting.

"Never mind that, I have to get moving before it gets dark out.", you sighed and began walking.

In all honesty, you did not know where you were going. Just picked a direction and decided that was good enough. Maybe you'll find civilization or maybe you're walking deeper into the woods. Who knows!

My brain is a little optimistic right now. You thought. Or maybe it's due to lack of sleep.. I was driving the whole time.

Then you started getting a little clumsy.

Tripping, swaying, falling flat on your face a few times, and overall just feeling drained. Also, you kept hearing maracas? Was that some kind of bird or something?

Ah, wait. Wasn't that the Hide Behind? You remembered about reading it in Journal 3 and that scene when Mabel says maraca owl. Maybe it is a maraca owl or maybe it's the tall thing that follows people.

Currently, you were laying on the ground because you fell..haha. AGAIN.

Thank Glob you landed on grass this time.

Ok. Do I or do I not take a nap? Probably not the best choice because I might have a concussion. Hm..the choices.

Deciding on one last try, you push yourself off the ground, take a quick sip of water, and continue on your journey! Nothing was gonna stop you now-!

Oh, a bird!

Then you ran into something, fell back and hit your head on the ground.

It was silly because it was kinda like a light switch.

You were awake and then you passed out,

Ha!

⯅

OW! How many times am I going to wake up in pain!?

"Great job Dipper! You killed someone!", a feminine voice said.

"They aren't dead! They just hit their head and passed oUt after they fell!", another voice says with a slight voice crack.

"Haha ha!", the girl laughs. "Your voice cracked."

Slowly waking up, you feel a type of rocking motion, like you're in a car or something.

A car!?

You sit up quickly. Too quickly and almost fall out of the golf cart but someone manages to pull you back to the seat.

"Whoa! Careful, you do not want to fall out of this thing when going almost full speed.", the female voice says next to you.

Looking over, you find a brown haired girl wearing a keyboard sweater.

"Hi! I'm Mabel! I have a pet pig named Waddles!!", she introduces herself loudly.

You feel your head hurt at her polite screeching.

"Ow. Hold on, give me a sec.", you say and rub your forehead.

"Uh.. Mabel? It's not a good idea to be loud around someone who just woke up after hitting their head.", the guy says, who you are assuming is driving the golf cart.

"Oops.", the girl, Mabel, smiles at you sheepishly. "My bad."

You wave her off.

"It's fine, I've dealt with worse.", you reassure.

"Let me start again.", she says and extends a hand for you to shake. "I'm Mabel and the one driving the golf cart is my twin brother, Dipper."

"STOP THE CART!"

The golf cart screeches to a stop and you hobbled your way out, beginning to pace back and forth.

Holyshitthisexplainsalot!That'swhyeverythingwassobrightandcartoonybecasuethisisfuckingDisneyshit!AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH-!

"Uh..you ok there?", Mabel asks.

"Um? Maybe? I-", you begin but then panic about what to say next.

Shitshitshitshit! Think of something! Anything!

"I don't remember how I got into the woods..", you say and cringe.

Yeah! Nice job! Now you're suspicious! YA DOINKUS!

"O..k, so you hit your head harder than we thought.", Dipper speaks up. "Let's get you patched up and see what we can do from there, ok?"

Pros: Going with two of your favorite characters will lead to adventures. Cons: They might try to read your mind to see if you're a threat and might threaten you with some random weapons..

.....

"I guess I can go with you guys until I can go to the hospital or something.", you say and finally stop imprinting foot prints into the dirt.

"Cool!", Mabel cheers. "Let's go! I've got Mabel juice in the fridge and I wanna see if the new dinosaurs inside taste different!"

"That's not how that works.", her brother mumbles and puts the golf cart in drive.

Hopping back on, you notice your backpack was opened.

"Uh? Who raccooned into my pack?", you asked.

"Racooned?", the Pines driving asks.

"Dug through your stuff? That was Dip.", Mabel says, completely understanding what you meant.

"Oh, sorry.", Dipper pipes up. "That was to see your ID, nothing else. I mean, wouldn't you try to identify someone after they passed out randomly?"

He is kinda right.

"Understandable racooning.", you say and start to brain storm ideas for a plan on how to stay under the radar.

Ok, so I might have/most likely freed Bill and now I have to do something about it before he's running wild around Gravity Falls again...fun.

You sigh and just decide to sit back and enjoy the ride for now.

Jerk didn't let me keep the pictures.

The sun was starting to set, within a few minutes you saw the Mystery Shack in the distance.

23 1 12 11 9 14 20 15 20 8 5 16 9 14 5 19

~Seline, the person.

Part 2

Taglist@

@diffidentphantom @sleep-7372 @boredwithlifeatthispoint @mspurpl3 @+?

GF List🏞️ | YO-🎹

[cloudysarts]

Hi there!!

I want to say that your “Mabel’s muse” Au concept has absolutely called my attention, Bill mentions multiple times (Dipper and Mabel’s guide to mystery and fun and TBOB) how he likes Mabel’s personality and wanted her to be his ally…sooo the idea of an alternative time where he decided to approach her and where she trusts him and considers him as her friend is absolutely full of potential

I just think about how many stuff would change and how bill would be a little more genuine with her as he for once isn’t pretending to be an all-wise being and having to constantly rise the ego of Genius minds…instead he just has to party with a teenager whose idea of fun is quite similar to his…he doesn’t have to be the “supreme being” for once just a silly fella in order to earn Mabel’s trust

Also about how some episodes would have to take a completely different route:

maybe “Mindscapers” wouldn’t even take place…because I doubt that Mabel would trust a Bill if he went inside Stan’s head

Bill possessing her during the “sock opera”episode instead of dipper

Also don’t get me started on “the last Mabelcorn” episode. All the angst and horror that Ford would feel when he finds out about the whole friendship with bill situation reflecting himself on Mabel and probably Dipper being the one who search for the unicorn hair while ford tries to convince her that Bill isn’t trustworthy

I apologize for my rant but I seriously love your idea and sorry if it’s a bit confusing English isn’t my first language

I hope you have a nice day and thank you for reading this silly thing!!

first of all, your english is great!! second of all, i am SO sorry it took me so long to respond to this ask, it just made me so happy that i wanted to take my time to craft a response!!!!!! :DDDD (context: for people who don't know what my 'mabels muse' au is, you can check it out over here!)

you are practically SPOT ON with my ideas for this au!!!!!! but i'm gonna briefly run through all the things you brought up!!

first of all, yes, absolutely!!!! for bill, partner-ing up with mabel was a very nice change of pace. he likes stroking the ego's of genius', just for his own amusement, but he doesnt get the THRILL of just getting to PLAY very often!! he's a very childish being, at the end of the day. he enables mabel's selfishness, while getting to indulge his own, silly passions right alongside her!! and obviously, mabel LOVES being enabled <3 i imagine most of the dreams he gives her would make any normal persons eyes bleed

as for your episode ideas, you're mostly right!!! :) mindscaperers does, in fact, NOT happen in this au. in my head, i imagine gideon trying to summon him, only for an 'I.O.U' to appear where bill should be. he's busy hanging out with his favorite pre-teen!!! so gideon skips straight to his backup plan, aka, gideon rises ^^

for sock opera, i'm still on the fence a little bit. one of the reasons bill is hanging out with her at all in this au is because, unlike in the regular timeline, this bill actively wants stanford to be brought home. the reason mabel is important to him, is because he can see timelines where she presses the button in not what he seems, and keeps him from returning. in his mind, he has the greatest shot of success if mabel doesn't press it. in this au, she doesnt even hesitate to trust stan, because she has another, trustworthy voice in her head, yelling DON'T PRESS THE BUTTON. its 2v1! ANYWAY, the reason any of that matters for sock opera, is because he wouldnt have any need to possess anyone, because he has no interest in smashing the laptop! BUT.....i can see him doing it anyway. i figure, most likely, he gets mabel to (willingly) let him use her body, so that she can work on her sock opera while her body sleeps. i just imagine a bill-possessed mabel up at 3 am, covered in hot glue and googly eyes as he tries to work it out shjdkfhjsdkf. but......honestly, he probably destroys the laptop in the process :) just to fuck with dipper <3 not that dipper ever finds out its her. he has no idea that mabel was ever possessed/has no reason to suspect her, because at this point, he still doesnt think bill is real. that is....until the last mabelcorn.

IN the last mabelcorn, mabel reveals to ford that she does recognize bill, and that he lives in her brain! she says it really excitedly, at the table, while dipper kind of just rolls his eyes about it. to her, its vindicating, because it's the first time anyone has ever acknowledged bills existence. but to ford, its HORRIFYING, because he knows it isn't just a coincidence. he knows he has to do something, but he doesn't know what, right away. this is where our ideas differ a little bit, because i think that mabel still WOULD be the one retrieving the unicorn hair! ford just didnt tell her what the hair was for. ford sends her off, because he wants to brainstorm a way to get him out of her head, preferably without hurting her/her memories. he also plans to bill-proof dippers mind in the process, just in case mabel is too far gone already. the events here happen basically the same (with minor tweaks), but instead of dipper suspecting that ford is evil/bill-possessed, this is where he finally learns that bill is real at all. ford tells him about his backstory, and explains the REAL reason he sent mabel out to get the unicorn hair, etc etc. he loves mabel a lot, but hes not sure how to go about dealing with this situation yet. its not HER fault she trusted bill, but he knew that if he just tries to tell her hes evil, she wont believe him. shes known 'her muse' longer, and as of right now, he's never lead her wrong. just like what happened to him in the past...

i wonder how mabel would feel if she only heard the end of that conversation...

(more of this au here and here!)

[thekrazykook]

Here is some fanart(fanfanart?) Of the amazing fanfic 'Now What' by @fishymom-art. Please check it out!

While this is not a scene in NW, I had to draw how amazing the Chaos Besties dynamic is. AGHFNBJNKGB I LOVE THEM SO MUUUUUCH.

[skeletboi]

Posted chapter one of my canon-compliant-as-possible Fiddauthor fic here if you're interested. (There is a bit of billford, because canon, but the main romance is fiddauthor) Next chapter should be up tonight or tomorrow.

I underestimated the amount of deep-diving I would have to do on top of my already excessive amount of deep-diving.

It's fine. Everything is fine.

First chapter is based off of this picture:

And of course the note on the back of it.

(From thisisnotawebsitedotcom, for those who don't know.)

Anyways. Enjoy. Or don't. Buy gold Byee.

[emgrth]

At work I thought of a plutonic Bill Cipher x Reader fic idea. (Sorry if this has been done before I wouldn’t know)

It’s about 3-5 years after Weirdmaggedon, and The Axolotl decides to use a new form of experimental therapy on Bill. They send him down, stripped of all his powers, to Earth for an indefinite amount of time to be a “guardian” of sorts to a human. Only the chosen human can see and hear him.

The human is a young adult and has recently lost their parents and is living in their car. Bill thinks this is great, finally a vulnerable human to manipulate. But then they show that they won’t be pushed around easily. And yet they show him so much kindness and respect and Bill doesn’t understand how or why. Apparently, they’re supposed to reach a “mutual understanding and respect” or whatever. That stupid salamander doesn’t know anything.

By the end (however long that is), Bill is still a long way to go from being “fixed”, but he learns a good lesson about vulnerability and caring about someone besides yourself.

I also just think it’s funny for Bill to be attached to this mundane person against his will.

“Hey what flavor of gum you think I should get?”

“Oh my- JUST KILL SOMETHING ALREADY!”

“I’ll go with mint.”

But then slowly come to care about them, in his own weird way

“God that guy was so rude to me. Can you believe that?”

“I could turn him into a pile of beetles if I still had my powers. I think he deserves it”

And what would happen if they met the Pines family? Lots of fun to be had here

[darlingdaisyfarm]

Rainy night (Ford Pines x fem!reader)

minors don’t interact

It's a summer night outside, the air is filled with the smell of rain falling on warm ground, raindrops are running down the window. The rain is not that sharp or scary, rather soft, constant, but it cools the night good enough after hot day. From time to time you hear low rumbles of thunder that come from afar, but they are soft and lazy.

It’s peaceful, almost. Except for the man beneath you.

Stanford sits on the couch, his back slumped against the cushions with you on his laps. His large hands rest on your hips, his touch is so gentle and light. He looks so tired tonight, his usual serious face softened with exhaustion from another long day of research, you feel the tension in his body, like he’s barely holding himself together.

You shift slightly in his lap and his grip tightens for a moment. His glasses are askew and you reach up to adjust them, but he grabs your wrist gently before you can. You swear there’s something in his eyes, something so vulnerable and sad that makes your heart ache.

“Leave them,” he mutters. You’ve seen him like this before, late at night when the weight of everything he’s been through catches up to him, when the need for human touch becomes almost unbearable. Thirty years in another dimension with no one to hold, no one to ground him, he’s starved for this. For you.

You don’t argue. Instead, you slide your arms around his neck, your fingers playing with the soft strands of his silvered hair. He leans into your touch, closing his eyes for a brief moment, as if savoring the feeling of you so close. His hands move from your hips to your waist, pulling you just a little bit closer, and you feel the warmth of him.

“Ford,” you whisper softly, leaning in so that your lips brush the edge of his ear. “you’re overthinking again.”

He huffs out a breath, letting out a low chuckle. “It’s what I do.”

You smile, pressing your forehead to his, your hands moving to cradle his face. There’s something so tender about him right now, something almost fragile. You tilt his chin up slightly, forcing him to look at you and the moment your eyes meet, something shifts. You see the need there, something he can’t tell you about. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, his hands gripping your waist tighter. 

You lean in, your lips barely touch his, and you feel him tense under you, it’s like he’s stressed 24/7. “It’s okay,” you whisper. “I’m here.”

And that’s all it takes.

Ford kisses you, but his kiss is demanding, rough even, that desperate it makes your head spin. His hands slide up your back, pulling you closer against him. It’s like he can’t get enough, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go. 

His tongue brushes against your bottom lip and you part your lips for him, the kiss deepening in a way that makes you dizzy. His fingers dig into your sides, almost too hard, but you don’t care. You want him like this, needy, desperate. He’s been waiting this for far too long.

You shift in his lap, pressing your hips down against his and he groans into your mouth, his hands sliding down to grip your thighs. He’s hard beneath you and that beautiful moan he makes when you grind against him makes you feel something.

“God,” Stanford breathes against your lips, his trembling hands are everywhere now, pulling you closer, like he’s afraid to let go. “i need this, i need you.”

And you can tell he means it.

You pull back slightly, breathless, just enough to catch a glimpse of his face. His cheeks are flushed and there’s a dazed look in his eyes. Ford is trying to compose himself, but it’s clear he’s already lost in the moment. 

Without a second thought, you press a gentle yet sensual kiss to the hollow of his throat, feeling the warm pulse beneath your lips. He shivers at that and a low groan escapes him. “God, you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

You can’t help but smile against his skin. You kiss your way up to his jaw, trailing soft kisses along the way. He tilts his head back slightly, giving you more access, and you take the opportunity to shower him in affection, his neck, his jawline, nose, cheeks, the space between his brows.

“You’re. . . fuck,” he stutters, clearly at a loss for words. His hands, those strong yet delicate hands with their six fingers, twitch nervously against your sides. He looks as if he’s unsure where to place them, obviously nervous.

“Ford,” you whisper softly, pausing to meet his eyes. “It’s okay, just hold me. You won’t hurt me.”

His brows furrowing. “I don’t want to- what if I-“

“Just be with me,” you encourage, leaning in to plant a tender kiss on his forehead. “You’re not going to hurt me, i trust you.” he  hesitates still, but you guide his hands gently to your waist, resting them there, showing him it’s okay. “See? Just like that. You’re doing great.”

“I just. . . I haven’t been close to anyone in so long,” he admits. “I don’t know how to. . . how to do this.”

“Just be yourself,” you answer, wrapping your arms around his neck again, drawing him even closer. “You’re amazing, Ford. You’re smart, strong and so incredibly sweet, just let me love you.”

His cheeks flush deeper at your words, and he looks at you with confusion on his face. “Sweet? Me?” he chuckles again. “You’re joking, right?”

“No joke,” you laugh, kissing the corner of his mouth, watching as his lips curve into a smile. “You are, even if you don’t see it. Just let me show you.”

With that, you return to his neck, kissing him softly, teasingly, feeling the way his body responds, every little gasp, every twitch of his fingers, the way his body tense and shakes a bit. The more you kiss him, the more he lets go, losing himself in the sensation. “God, I’m a mess,” he murmurs. “you make me feel so exposed.”

“Good,” you breathe against his skin. “You deserve to feel this way.”

He grips your hips tighter, his six fingers squeezing just enough to make you look at him. “I’m afraid I’ll”-

“-hurt me? you won’t,” you assure him. “Trust me, i’m right here and i want this just as much as you do.”

The tension in his shoulders eases slightly, and he leans into your touch again, his eyes fluttering closed as you shower him with affection. You kiss his forehead, his cheek, his jaw again. But there’s not a second when Ford can relax.

“I can’t believe this is happening.” you hear him whisper again.

“You’re here with me, this is real. You deserve this, Ford.”

He swallows hard, clearly fighting back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. “I- I need you,” he tells you.

“It’s okay, just hold me, kiss me, love me.”

Ford's eyes trail down, almost unconsciously, lingering on the curve of your chest. And just for a moment, he looks torn, his gaze flickering between your face and the rise and fall of your breasts. You catch that need in his eyes, the desire that he’s trying to keep under control, but there’s something holding him back. 

A small smile tugs at your lips, and you lean in close. “You can touch me there too, Ford,” you whisper teasingly.

He blinks, his gaze snapping back up to meet yours, wide-eyed, clearly taken aback by your boldness. “I- I don’t. . . I mean, I want to, but- It’s been so long. I don’t even know if I. . . if I’ll do it right.”

Your heart swells at the uncertainty in his voice. Stanford — so brilliant, so confident in everything else, especially science and anomalies, was completely lost when it came to something as simple as touch. You notice it in the way his hands hover, unsure of where to go, where to touch, he’s so lost and confused, his fingers twitching nervously. 

“Here,” you take his hands in yours, you feel them trembling, those large hands with their extra fingers that have always fascinated you. Slowly, gently, you guide them up your body, until they rest on your breasts. The moment his palms make contact, he inhales sharply, unable to look away.

“See? you’re not going to hurt me. Just. . . touch me, Ford. Please.”

He’s frozen for a second, there’s so much tension in his hands, the way they grip you so carefully, like he’s afraid he might break you if he holds on too tight. But then, slowly, his fingers start to move, tracing the curve of your breasts with a soft touch as if he’s exploring something completely new. It’s as if touching you like this has awakened something in him, something he’s kept buried for far too long. You feel his arousal growing, the way his body shifts beneath you, his hands tightening slightly on your breasts.

“You’re doing so good, Ford,” you praise him as you lean into his touch, pressing your chest more firmly into his hands. “just like that.” his grip on your breasts tightening just enough to make soft quiet moan slip out of you. He’s completely lost in the moment, in you. 

“You’re so soft,” Ford says as he watches his hands work over you. “I didn’t think. . .” that’s when he falls silent again, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

“You didn’t think what?” you tilt your head, curious about what he’s feeling.

“I didn’t think it would feel this good,” god, the way he looks at you, both amazed and a bit shy, makes your heartrace even faster. You swear you want that man.

“Good, now you’re getting it.”

“Yeah, I can’t believe I’m touching you like this, it feels incredible. I need you,” he repeats again, such painful desperation in his words, the way he’s holding onto you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. His hands move more confidently now, squeezing, exploring and every touch makes you whimper softly.

“I’m right here,” you say, kissing the side of his face. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Ford is so desperate, he feels that tightness in his own pants, but he don’t want to take care of that, not yet, only you are his first priority. He’s staring at you like he can’t get enough, his hands, still resting on your breasts, but now squeezing harder, it’s like he’s testing how far he can go. 

A soft whimper escapes your lips when his fingers caress your nipple and it’s like something inside him snaps. Without warning, he surges forward, his mouth crashing against your neck, kissing you hungrily, desperately, like he’s trying to devour every inch of you. His lips are hot as he moves from your throat to your collarbones, sucking and biting, marking you as his.

“F-fuck, Ford!” you gasp, arching into him, your hands threading through his messy gray hair. You grip tight, tugging just enough to make him groan against your skin. He never stops kissing and marking your skin and you can’t help the way your hips press down into his lap, feeling his hardness growing beneath you.

His mouth moving to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck and your breath hitches, a moan slipping past your lips. “Ford, that feels so good-“ you breathe, your fingers twisting in his hair, making it even messier, pulling him closer, urging him to keep going. 

“Does it?” he asks against your skin. You can feel the way his lips curl into a smile, Stanford nips at your collarbone. “Tell me how it feels. I want to hear you.”

“It’s. . . nnhah, yes, it’s amazing,” you pant as his teeth graze your skin. “Don’t stop, Ford, please- just like that.”

His arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you down harder against him, his bulge pressing against your core. “I can’t stop, princess, you’re driving me fucking crazy.”

You’re so happy that Ford starts to show his feelings at least a little more freely now, because you never knew that this scientist was capable of such a thing.

His lips move lower, sucking and biting, leaving your skin red and raw, you’re moaning at his kisses, the heat between your legs growing unbearable. 

“F-Forddd,” your voice breaking as you tug at his hair again, pulling his mouth back up to yours. You crash your lips against his, tasting the desperation on his tongue as he kisses you hungrily, like he’s starving for you. His hands grip your ass, grinding your hips down against him until you’re both panting, both trembling with need.

“Sweetheart, I want you so bad,” Ford mutters against your lips, then he pulls back just enough to look at you. “Tell me what to do. I don’t- I don’t want to fuck this up.”

You smile. “You’re doing everything right,” your fingers stroking through his hair, soothing him. “Just keep going. Touch me, kiss me, make me yours.”

That seems to push him over the edge. You let out a choked moan while his hands are everywhere now, grabbing, squeezing, exploring. Finally, finally he’s opening up. His kisses grow more aggressive, more demanding, as he nips at your skin, his fingers digging into your thighs, your waist, as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of you. 

“You’re so perfect, baby,” he groans and then laughs, looks like his emotions are pretty unstable now and that takes hold of him. “Hahah, I- I can’t believe you’re real.”

“Ford, please,” you arch into him, your body begging for more. “I need you to-“

But before you can finish, his lips are on yours again, kissing you with a hunger that takes your breath away. His hands cup your breasts, squeezing harder now, his fingers pinching your nipples through your shirt, and you gasp against his mouth.

“You feel so fucking good, princess, i don’t even know what I’m doing, but fuck, I want to touch you everywhere.”

And he does.

Ford fucking grips your hips like he’s terrified you’ll disappear. His hands tremble, his movements growing more erratic, like he’s trying to drown himself in you, in your taste, in your touch. 

But even when his body is pressed against yours, you can feel the cracks starting to show. 

Suddenly, Ford pulls back, his chest heaving, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes are squeezed shut, his jaw clenched tight, his lips trembling.

“I can’t- I don’t, i don’t deserve this. I don’t know how to do this.”

You look at him, your heart breaking at the sight. “Ford,” you start, but he shakes his head, his eyes still shut.

“I’ve been gone for so long, thirty years. . . God, thirty fucking years. I’ve been out there, and it’s like I’ve forgotten how to feel anything. This. . . you,” his voice cracks. “I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if I can be here. Not really.”

His words make your chest tighten, the directness of his confession hits you like a punch in the gut. You literally feel the weight of his trauma, the years he spent lost in other dimensions, fighting things that no one else could even comprehend. And here he is, in front of you, vulnerable, fragile, terrified, touch-starved.

“Ford, look at me,” you whisper, cupping his face gently in your hands. His eyes flicker open and you see the clear pain, the unshed tears that he’s been holding back for far too long. “You’re here now. You’re with me.”

“I still see him. Every fucking night,” he sighs deeply. “that demon, it’s like he’s still in my head. The nightmares, they won’t stop. Sometimes I think I’m still trapped there, that none of this is real.” Ford feels like he’s admitting something shameful so he tries to talk quieter than usual. “I can’t shake it. I can’t shake him.”

You lean in, pressing soft kisses to his forehead, his temple, his cheek. “You’re safe, Ford,” you tell him between kisses. “I’m here. You’re here. He’s gone.”

“I don’t know how to believe that,” Ford’s fingers clench in your shirt, holding onto you like a lifeline. “What if. . . what if he comes back? What if I lose everything again?”

“He’s not coming back. You’re not going to lose me. You’re not going to lose any of this. Not again.”

His body is shaking with overwhelming emotions and before you know it, he pulls you to him, burying his face in your neck. His hot breath burns your skin and then you feel it. The wetness of his tears, the quiet sobs that escape from him, muffled by your embrace. Ford’s body shakes as he lets go, all these nightmares and pain. You cradle him against you, letting him cry, letting him feel the safety of your hug. 

“Fuck,” he sobs, he clutches you to him, his grip almost bruising. “I can’t- God, I can’t do this, i don’t know how to be here, how to be with you. I don’t know how to live without feeling like I’m going to lose it all again.”

The corners of your lips are down, tears pricking at your own eyes as you hold him tight, one hand threading through his hair, the other rubbing soothing circles into his back. “Ford, listen to me,” you whisper, trying to sound okay despite the lump in your throat. “you don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to know everything. You’ve been through hell and back and it’s okay to be scared. But you’re here now, with me. You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

Ford is afraid you’ll slip away if he won’t hold you tight enough. “I’m scared,” he admits. “I’m so fucking scared.”

You kiss him again, this time on the lips, soft and tender, tasting the salt of his tears. “You’re allowed to be scared, but you’re not alone. Not anymore.”

He kisses you back, but it’s so messy, a sob escaping him into the kiss, his touch filled with so much emotion it makes you want to cry together with him.

“You’re not alone,” you say again, reminding him, trying to get it into his head as you kiss his tears away. “You’re here, with me. You’ve survived, Ford. You’ve survived so much. And now it’s time to live.”

His fingers digging into your skin like he’s holding on for dear life. “I don’t know how to let go of it, all the fear, the pain. I don’t know how to stop it.”

“You don’t have to let go of it all at once, but you can let me help. You don’t have to carry it alone anymore.”

Ford’s eyes are red from tears. And for the first time in what feels like forever, you see it — a glimmer of hope, even through all that pain and fear.

“Okay. . . Okay. Just don’t leave me.”

“Never,” you whisper, kissing him again. “I’m never leaving you.”

Ford’s body slowly starts to relax as he allows himself, for the first time in years, to feel safe. To feel loved. 

Ford’s breath is still shaky as he clings to you, but there’s something else now, something shifting in the way he holds you, in the way his lips linger just a little too long against your neck, your jaw, your chin. His desperation hasn’t disappeared, it’s just changed. The need to feel, the need to connect, it burns hotter now.

You cup his face, wiping away the last traces of his tears with your thumbs. “I love you, Ford.”

And you kiss him. 

This time, it’s not tentative or gentle, it’s hungry. Because you’re trying to make him understand. You swear you hear his heartbeat, his heart pumps blood like crazy. Ford kisses you like he’s drowning, like he needs you to keep himself afloat, and it’s intoxicating, overwhelming in the best possible way.

Finally, his hands slide under your shirt, fingers grazing your skin. He hesitates for a moment, his fingers trembling as they brush against your ribs and you lean into him, your hands guiding his, encouraging him, showing him it’s okay to want this, to want you. He’s still hard, his length feels painfully tight in his pants, it’s aching, but Ford kisses you again and again, making you moan into his mouth.

“I can’t get enough of you.” 

“Don’t- don’t stop, please.”

His mouth moves lower, trailing down to your breasts, you feel his breath on your skin. Ford takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking gently, his tongue flicking against the sensitive skin.

“G-God, Ford,” you breathe heavily while his mouth works you over, his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place as his tongue teases you, flicking, sucking on your nipple like he’s fucking starved. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him to keep going.

“You still want, right?” he stops and looks up at you. “I’m just-“

You press a finger to his lips, silencing him with a soft smile. “I’ve never been more sure of anything, i want this. I want you.” so you decide to prove your words as you slip your hand into his pants, fingers wrapping around his thick, throbbing cock, feeling him jump at your touch.

“Ford, are you gonna let me make you feel good?”

“Y-Yeah,” he stutters. “Please, don’t s-stop.”

You start to move your hand, stroking him slowly at first. “You’re doing so good for me,” you purr, your thumb running over the tip of his cock, smearing the precum. “such a good boy, Ford.”

“Ahhh, please, just like that, don’t, nnhah, don’t stop,” his lips part in a breathless moan as your hand strokes him, thumb brushing over the leaking tip. “It feels so good,” he groans, his hips bucking up into your hand as you wrap your fingers tighter around him, moving smoothly, gently. You enjoy the way his breath quickens, the way his face twists in pleasure as you pump your hand, feeling his leaking precum as you take care of hun.

"You're doing so good for me, so perfect, Ford." you lean in to kiss him gently, swallowing his moans as you continue to stroke his throbbing cock, your hand moving up and down in perfect rhythm.

His hands, shaking, reach out, nervous at first, before resting on your thighs. However, the way he looks at you. . . God, the way he looks at you, with such adoration, like you’re the only thing that matters right now, makes your heart melt. 

“Y-you're so beautiful," he says, eyes closing as he gives into the sensation of your warm hand around him. He’s so hard, so sensitive. Leaking.

“Just look at you,” his cock twitches at your words. “so needy, so desperate.” he’s leaning into your touch, needing more.

Ford groans and grunts, his hips thrusting up into your hand, seeking more friction, more pleasure. “I- I can’t-! It’s too much!”

“Just feel, Ford,” you move your hand faster now. “let go.” you guide his hand to his own length, showing him how to match your rhythm. You watch him closely as you can’t get enough of his beautiful face, his brow furrowing as you quicken your pace, fingers working faster over him and you can’t help but smile at the sight of him, his mouth falling open in soft gasps and moans. 

“Oh, God. . . Ohh, this is so-“ he whines, his six fingers trembling around your wrist, and you know he’s close. “I- oh fuck, I’m gonna-“ Ford gasps, his body trembling and you tighten your grip, wanting to feel every bit of him release. The wet sound of your hand gliding over him filling the air. You can’t get enough of the way his body responds, the way his hips buck against your grip, the way he gasps and moans your name like a prayer. It’s all so beautiful. 

Ford’s whole body tenses and he cums hard. His cum spills over your fingers in thick, hot spurts, coating your hand. His head falls back again, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he rides out every last wave of pleasure.

"Oh god, I- I didn’t mean to!" his voice breaking with a mixture of shame when he looks down and sees what happened, his release coating your hand in warm, sticky fluid. "I’m sorry-“

“Don’t be," you whisper, kissing his chin. "You’re perfect, Ford, absolutely perfect."

For a moment, Ford just stares at you, like he can’t believe any of this is real.

“I want to be inside you.” you hear him say and you look at him in surprise, not trying to hide your emotions. You definitely didn't expect to hear this, although you really wanted to feel him inside, you needed him to take you and make love to you. But you thought he would be tired after— “I want to feel you.” his voice interrupts your thoughts.

“Yes, yes, please,” you answer him excitedly, your fingers still gently caressing his length as he recovers. You kiss his jawline, his neck, your lips tracing the lines of his body and face. Ford laughs, his lips twitch into smile, his hand comes to rest on top of yours. He kisses your palm, then your fingers, paying attention to each one while his eyes locked on yours. 

“I love you,” he confesses. Your hand slides back down to his cock, already throbbing again. "and I'm going to make sure you know that." Ford grips your hips, guiding you down until you feel the tip of his cock pressing at your wet entrance. You sigh, the sensation sending shockwaves through you, he’s big, thick, and you can already feel how much he stretches you, just by rubbing himself against your wet folds. 

Holding you, he pushes you down, sinking into you slowly. The sensation is delicious, filling you in a way that makes your eyes roll back, a soft cry escaping your lips. You gasp as he fills you completely, the stretch making you feel so incredibly full. He’s so hot inside you, his cock pulsing. He’s deep, so deep inside you.

"You’re so t-tight,” Ford groans, feeling your pussy clenching around him. "does it feel good, princess? tell me, tell me it feels good." 

You can barely find the breath to speak, but you nod, gripping his shoulders as your hips roll. “Y-yes, Ford, ahhnn, it feels so good” your little cries driving him fucking insane and for a second he thinks all of this is just a dream, that he’ll blink and everything will disappear, but no, here you are, right in front of him. Ford wants to hear you cry for him, to feel every inch of you wrapped around his cock. He wants to know all if this is real. 

“You’re so beautiful,” his eyes glued to where your bodies connect, his hands urging you to sink deeper. “Just like that, take me, fuck me”

“Ohh goddd, Ford,” you whimper, leaning forward to press your forehead against his, your breaths mingling. “please, don’t stop!”

“Such a good girl, you’re doing so good for me, just like that.” his fingers find your clit, rubbing in time with his thrusts. 

His control is slipping; it’s obvious by the way his hips are starting to buck up into you, his cock throbbing inside you, stretching and filling you perfectly. “you feel so fucking good. I want you to ride me, princess,” he mumbles. “I need to feel you- all of you.”

His voice breaks on the last word and it makes your pussy pulsate around him once more, but you obey, moving faster, taking him deeper, the slickness between your thighs making each movement smoother. His hands wonder over your body, gripping your waist, your thighs, sliding up your back to hold you as you grind down onto him. And it’s still not enough, Ford thinks he’ll never have enough of you.

“You’re doing so good, princess, s-so fucking good.” the sound of his needy voice makes you melt, and you lean down, pressing your lips to his. His tongue meets yours, hot and eager, as his hands continue to guide your movements, while your moans muffled by him. Ford pulls away to look into your eyes.

“Please, I need to know,” he’s begging, thrusting inside you desperately. “i need to know you’re mine, please”

You grip his face between your hands as you look into his eyes, nearly crying from overwhelming feelings and pleasure as his cock drilling into you. “I’m yours, Ford, im all yours-“

A low moon escapes him at your words, he fucks into you a bit harder, your wetness and tightness drives him crazy and he pulls you down, pushing deeper, until you feel every inch of him, every vein of his cock pulsing inside you, throbbing with need. You let out a soft cry, your hands gripping his shoulders as you ride him. 

Ford watches you lose yourself in the pleasure. “Fuck! I can’t-“ he moans as his hips jerk up into you. “your pussy feels so good, so good, baby, I feel so good-“ 

The sweet tension coiling in your stomach, the pressure building as he thrusts up into you, you throw your head back as every inch of him stretches you. 

“Ford. . . I’m so close,” you whine, feeling him hitting all the right spots inside you.

Ford groans when your pussy tightens around him again and it feels fucking heavenly, he pulls you down for another desperate kiss, you swear your are swollen from so many kisses, but you don’t give a fuck, you want to feel him, every part of him. “Cum for me,” he whispers into your mouth, breathing deeply. “I want to feel you, princess.”

And with one final thrust, you do, your body shuddering as the orgasm crashes over you, your soft walls clenching tight around him. You rock your hips back and forth, never wanting this to end. Ford gasps, hiding his face in your neck to suppress his pathetic, but such beautiful sounds as he finishes inside you, claiming you. You hold him, pulling him even closer as you still roll your hips, feeling his warmth filling you up as he cries out your name, his body trembling.

For a moment, the world is still, the only sound in the room you’re shared heavy breathing as you both come down from the high. Ford’s arms wrap around you, holding you close, his chest rising and falling rapidly beneath you. 

He then presses a kiss to your temple. Ford looks at you like you’re the answer to every question he’s ever had. You’re silent, waiting him to speak because you know he wants to say something. His fingers gently caress your cheek. "You're the only one I want inside my mind. No one else, just you.”

[localcanadiancreature62]

My Thoughts on Fiddlestan

Okay you people are literally all or nothing with these mfs,like it's either all gut wretching angst or all tooth rotting fluff. So i raise you,"what if it was both?" aka i made them have a good time but they also have Issues ✨. @misteria247 you might wanna see this one cuz i know you love Fiddlestan lol.

So first things first,their first meeting. They would meet soon after the portal incident when Fidds' sanity is slowly starting to slip from the first several usages of the memory gun and he ends up going to Ford's house after having a vague familiarity with the place as well as a desire to make amends with his friend while he still remembers him,only for him to see Stan at the door. A man wearing his best friend's face. Stan lets the guy in while still keeping the ruse of pretending to be his brother after he just faked his death,trying his hardest to pretend that he knows what Fidds is talking about regarding the portal and Ford's time in college.

A few weeks pass,and Fidds get the slight suspicion that he's not actually talking to Ford as "Ford" brushes off his science-y ramblings with "I don't understand" or "I'm too tired to hear about it maybe later",when he knew that the real Ford would know exactly what he's talking about regarding his ideas for modern computers or Schrodinger's cat as well as gladly ramble along with him even if it's 2am at the time instead of ignoring it. He also realizes that "Ford" surprisingly knows nothing about anomalies and either tries to shoo creatures away or just beats the hell out of them rather than studying them whenever they have an encounter with gnomes or something,plus the fact that he gets jumpy whenever an eye-bat appears. Fidds is still sane enough to notice these "tells" and so he confronts the man about it despite Stan already being nervous about not being able to keep up the act. Stan decides to come clean after the southern man literally backed him into a corner while interrogating him about who he is and where the real Stanford is,he explains the truth about Ford's disappearance and that he's trying to fix the portal while having no idea about how his brother's science mumbo jumbo works. Fidds' expression of anger and fear changes into guilt sympathy and even intrigue as he regrets trying to aggressively gouge the man for answers,when the grifter turned out to care about Ford all along instead of selfishly stealing his life for success. He wondered about Stan's relation to Ford and the man explains that he's Ford's twin brother and that they had a rough patch in their brotherly relationship which lead to this whole mess. Fidds then offers to help fix the portal since he's the one who co built it and Stan couldn't be more than happy,although with the condition of no more lies as that impersonation fiasco genuinely scared him which Stan agrees to. They didn't get along at first with Stan's stubborn personality and tendency to tease others at random while Fidds was just really tired and he wanted to get Ford back so that he can get out of this whole mess,but they managed.

Throughout the building of the portal,the two begin to bond regarding their history with Ford and how the man inadvertently screwed them over with his ego. Then talking about how they always felt inferior in comparison to everyone else (Stan with Ford,Fidds with his rough and tumble ranch family who roughhoused constantly while he was a scrawny nerd),discovering that they weren't so different as they thought. Stan ends up taking his partnership with Fiddleford more seriously as he soon realizes that they only have each other,while Fidds starts to humor Stan's teasing and occasional goofing off since he doesn't have anyone else to turn to with Emma may and Tate still refusing contact from him ever since the divorce (just so that Fidds wouldn't yknow. cheat on his wife). They soon become friends who often look out for each other with Stan trying to stop Fidds from overworking himself while Fidds teaches Stan about quantum physics as he tries really hard to understand despite being the "dumb" twin.

Fidds' use of the memory gun becomes less frequent as he didn't have a reason to blast himself with it anymore due to finally having someone that understands his troubles with Ford and the darn triangle feller,no longer feeling as though he had to forget everything as he had someone to talk to about all of this (i mean in canon he wouldn't never went insane if Ford fucking talked to him and explained why he's still going through with the portal with his desperate desire for approval). Stan sees his steadfast love and support be appreciated by someone besides his ungrateful brother,while Fidds sees his unwavering loyalty and handmade gifts be cherished by someone who cares rather than ignored by his egotistical friend.

The fact that the two found someone who cared even when they have their own troubles means a lot to them,this steadfast love and concern was what made Fidds and Stan slowly fall for each other. Stan finally found someone who appreciates him and sees him as worthy even with his many mistakes or occasional stupidity while Fidds finally found someone who won't waste his loyalty and kindness in favor of their own selfish wishes (*cough* Ford *cough*). They're finally happy,after dealing with so much pain. They had their happy ending,or did they? 😏.

While they WERE in a healthy and loving relationship,things weren't all sunshine and rainbows. Stan outright refuses to talk about his problems in fear of being a burden to his nerd plus the emotional walls he put up were too strong even when he tries to be open toward the southern man which always ends in him not wanting to talk about it,meanwhile Fidds opts to metaphorically run away from his issues by using the memory gun to forget every argument and misunderstanding he had with the drifter (which were mostly caused by the memory gun in the first place). Whenever they have a problem with something that the other does that isn't related to the portal,they don't set boundaries they don't talk about it they don't confront the other about it,they do NOTHING.

Fidds slowly starts to go insane again as he starts forgetting about Stan at times with his use of the memory gun whenever they have an argument which is a LOT of arguments as every couple doesn't always agree with each other,he lashes out and has a paranoia episode over either imagining Stan being a stranger that wants to hurt him or him being Ford that wants to take revenge on him for quitting the project which obviously upsets the drifter but he doesn't do anything about it as he cannot afford to lose the one thing he has left because of his dumb problems (little does he know,is that he's already doing it. he's already losing Fidds cuz of his issues). Stan on the other hand,starts treating Fiddleford with the same codependency that he gave Ford with him expecting the hillbilly to always be there for him and always put HIS interests at heart despite the man having his own wants and needs with his Mcgucket Labs project. Thus Fidds is being taken for granted again while Stan is confused and angry over why this hick is ignoring him and trying to abandon him like Ford did (Stanley your brother issues are showing).

It only gets worse in the moments culminating to Fidds' insanity,where Stan doesn't even know who his hillbilly partner anymore while Fidds is completely unaware of the torment he's putting Stan through with his erratic behavior and amnesiac ramblings. Stan was there for the tapes,he was behind the camera with every transition as the southern man told him it was a little experiment regarding the memory gun and he believed that at first only to soon realize that Fidds was literally frying his own brain with that gun after reading his notes about the electricity that erases the memories plus the side effects of prolonged use. By the time Fidds had that car crash,he quit the project again and stopped seeing Stan as he left the drifter alone to fix the portal by himself albeit with more knowledge of how it works due to the various quantum mechanics lessons the man drilled into him. He just needed to figure out the elaborate codes to actually activate it. Stan missed Fidds as he was guilty about their last interaction being an argument about the memory gun and even encountered him but with a new red robe while the man went on and on about some memory cult,but he knew that the man is too far gone for him to make amends with.

Stan then ended up using Fidds' Mcgucket Labs money to support himself but then he realized that it won't be enough as that business was just a start up gig that didn't had the chance to become successful due to the portal and the memory gun,so he had to come up with another way to survive all alone. Then he went to the Dusk 2 Dawn convenience store and saw that everyone was interested in Ford's weird mad scientist house,taking everyone there as he saw that people's interest in the freaky things in that house would make great revenue for him. The Mystery Shack (originally the Murder Hut) was born,and Stan had finally left his life of being a miserable grifter behind. However.. he still saw his Fiddleford rummage in the trash or make killer robots in the news sometimes. He yearns for what could've been yet he shakes his head as he knew what he had with the nerd was currently unsalvageable in his current insane state.

[strawburry01]

With the gravity falls fandom reviving itself does anyone want nerdy college Ford x reader going on adventures together?

Okay it's here!

[kuipernicus]

Trying to decide if I really do wanna write that Fiddlestan fanfic where Stanley never breaks the machine but Ford still doesn't leave for college and just goes local; meets Fiddleford and he and Fid work on stuff at his house a lot...

So much college work to do, but then again Fiddlestan...