#Gravity Falls Fanfic

[youareshauni]

!!!!! <3

“I’ve had bad breakups too!” she blurts out. Ford freezes.

While reading, and subsequently mocking, The Book of Bill with his family, he had been careful to keep the exact nature of his and Bill’s relationship… elusive.

Mabel, as always, has taken him by surprise.

—

As cathartic as tossing the Book of Bill into the nearest dimensional rift is, Ford can't help his unease at the questions left unanswered. Mabel helps.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

My Love Mine All Mine | Stanley Pines

★ Caryn Pines gives her son the only thing that truly belongs to him. love that will live in the people he loved and in the people they will love after him.

for Stanley Pines, whose soul was too big for his own body, so he gave the extra away. who had nothing and so he gave everything

i highly recommend listening to this song when reading <3 its by Mitski

before anything else, before words, before thought, there is love. and love is red, love is screaming, love is Stanley Pines coming into this world.

and his world begins with a cry. Stanley is loud as he will ever be, his tiny body shaking with a ferocity.

she holds both of her sons to her chest, skin to skin, two tiny bodies curling into her warmth, and she knows. these are mine.

and she loves them both like the ocean loves the shore.

Caryn feels two new hearts against her. she presses Stan close, feeling the tremble of his breath. he is too small to know what he needs, but she does.

Caryn knows that everything she does will leave a mark. she won’t leave them money, she won’t leave them houses, but she will leave love. a love so vast, so infinite, it will fill spaces long after she is gone, after the years pass.

“you are mine. all mine, my love. i will teach you how to love, because that’s the only thing that will ever belong to you.”

Ford is quiet in her other arm, calmer, softer, less of a storm, more a ripple in the ocean. but his twin is a storm and he will carry that storm with him always. it will be his curse and his blessing and Caryn will teach him how to contain it. she hopes it plants something deep inside him that will take root, that will never leave him, even when she does.

“Stanley,” she breathes, pressing a kiss to the forehead of the loud one. she shifts, pressing another kiss to the quiet one. “Stanford.”

Stanley never stops crying unless Caryn holds him. and Ford never cries at all. unless Stanley is taken away, so Caryn carries them both at once because her arms are strong and her heart is stronger. Ford rests in the crook of her arm, Stanley clings to her like a little stubborn monkey.

she sings to them before they understand words, sings because love is the only language they will ever need.

“moon, tell me if i could, send up my heart to you? so when i die, which i must do, could it shine down here with you?”

Stanley kicks his feet in time with the melody. Ford watches her mouth move, curious.

Caryn takes Stanley to the ocean, cradles him against her chest as the tide curls around her ankles. the waves roar, and he giggles, his small hands grasping at the sea spray.

“see, sweetheart?” she smiles, bouncing him gently. “this is yours. the whole ocean.“

Stanley realises, this is home. this is the ocean. and he will love it, because Caryn loves it and Caryn is his, so it belongs to him too.

Stan buries his face in her neck, grinning against her skin. Ford is on the shore, his tiny fingers curling into the sand, fascinated by the way it shifts beneath him.

her boys. her whole world.

it’s strange, the way children grow. they exist between moments, one minute they are so tiny, and the next, they are already eight.

and Stanley, with all his fire, all his want to hold the world in his hands, is too much. too much for this small house, too much for his small body. so he reaches.

when it rains, Stanley runs outside, arms wide open like he could hold the whole sky, mouth open to catch the drops. Caryn doesn’t mind, she never minds. she takes his hand and twirls him in circles until they are both dizzy, rain-soaked, laughing.

Ford stands under the porch, watching, waiting. he is quieter still, more thoughtful. he is different. he watches moths with wide eyes, reaches for mushrooms with eager hands

Ford loves the quiet things, the soft things, the dark, the mysterious. Stanley doesn’t understand it. how could he understand the silence when he was born from a cry?

Stanley finds the moths disgusting, he sticks out his tongue when it flutters too close. but Caryn only laughs, cupping one in her gentle hands, watching the delicate way it moves. “he sees the world different than you,” she tells Stanley. “and that’s beautiful.”

Stan pouts. but later, she catches him watching Ford watching the moths. he wants to understand.

that is the thing about love, she thinks. you don’t have to understand someone to love them. and she is proud of them both. they balance each other

but Stanley does understand love, because his mom has given it to him in every moment, in every touch. she is raising him on it, feeding it to him like milk.

but he doesn’t know yet that one day, when he is older and the world becomes too rough for him, love will be the only thing he has left. it will be the thing that pulls him through.

Stanley is joy. Ford is quiet. and Caryn is the bridge, the hands that hold both at once. she knows that love is different for each of them. she loves them in the way they need to be loved.

one more thing about love: it does not stop the world from moving forward and it's not enough to keep Stan and Ford from growing up.

the house is too quiet without Stanley’s voice filling the halls. he leaves with his mother’s love carved into him, so when she'll be gone, it'll feel like he is bleeding.

but when Caryn dies, she lives in him. Stanley wonders if he could send his heart up to her. he wonders if she knew if he still carried her love in his hands because no one else in the world could ever take it from him.

and that love, the one she taught him, it moves through him like a pulse, and Stanley doesn’t know how to let it go. but he does not need to. it will never leave him, even when everything else does

years pass, and his mother's love is still in him.

it’s many years later when he meets a boy without a father. a kid with a too-big heart. the same hunger for a love that doesn’t ask for anything. so Stan does what he was taught, he holds Soos close, he becomes what Caryn was for him.

Stanley does not think about it when he ruffles his hair, when he buys him lunch without being asked, when he shows him how to fix things.

he pours that love into the boy, as best he can, knowing full well it isn’t enough. but love, as his mother said, it is all he has to give. it is the thing that will stay, even after he is gone.

years pass, and when Mason and Mabel are born, Stanley stands at the edge of the hospital room, hands shaking.

Mabel is first, she arrives screaming, loud, red. Stanley strokes her tiny cheek with his thumb, only now realising how he looked when he came into this world. so this was me, he thinks. Caryn always mentioned it. now he knows. because now Mabel exists and she is warmth, she is loud, she is life, she is the echo of his own baby wail. too much love in too small a body.

Stan does not expect to cry, but he does.

because when Mason is placed in his arms, there is a birthmark on his forehead. a constellation written into his skin. Stan doesn't know if he's crying or laughing because the universe must be playing a joke on him.

six fingers, the big dipper, twins.

it’s too much like Ford, too much like the thing he lost

Stan's heart is too full, too raw, too open. and when he holds both kids, so small, so pure, he understands. he understands what it means to love something so much that it hurts. because this is what he does and he will do it for as long as he can: he loves. he loves the children, he loves the world in pieces, he loves the moment he’s in, because that is all he can do.

Stanley swallows hard and pulls Mason close, because he misses hugging his brother. he presses his forehead against the baby's and laughs. “kid, you got some big shoes to fill.”

Mabel gurgles in his other arm, as if reminding him she’s here too. Stan grins. "don't worry, sweetheart. i won't forget you."

he never does. because they are his now.

when they’re little, Stan carries them both at once, just like his mother did. he rocks them in his arms, sings to them like his mother sang to him and Ford.

so when i die, which i must do, could you shine it down here for her?

the years pass, and Stanley is there.

he carries Mabel on his shoulders, spins her in the rain, lets her paint his nails and knuckles with glittery nail polish.

Mabel reminds him of himself. she is messy, untamed, wild with love. Mason reminds him of someone he cannot say out loud, but that is okay.

Mason. . . Mason with his notebooks and his questions and his hunger for the strange. Stanley listens. always. because he remembers Ford’s voice, too. remembers what it was like to have so much inside you and no one to tell it to.

nothing in the world belongs to him. not really. not his home, not his name, not even his own history.

except his love.

Stan looks in the mirror and sees his mother’s hands, sees the way she used to hold his face, thumb brushing his cheek.

“i did good, ma,” he says, not expecting an answer. the moon is outside, glowing with a light it doesn’t own.

and Stanley knows. love is the only thing that never left him. his, all his. it lives in the ocean. in the rain. in the wings of a moth. in the laughter of a child.

it lives in the hands of a boy who learned how to fix things. in the laughter of a girl who runs into storms. in the eyes of a boy who sees magic in what others ignore.

when he dies, his love will not.

it will live in Soos’ hands, when he holds his own child for the first time

it will live in Mabel’s loud laugh, when she spins her brother’s kids in the rain

it will live in Mason's voice, telling stories to people who will listen

love is the only thing that does not end.

his love, his, all his.

[kittynugg]

i wrote some more stangst. forgst, if you will

prev stangst

words: 1,737 (see what i did there.)

p.s: reblogs are appreciated, and do not tag as ship. all interactions are platonic. also this one is gonna be a lot worse than the last one i speedran it im so so sorry i'll probably revisit this later

Ford glanced down to the dimensional translator on his wrist. Gifted to him by a group of refugees before he escaped the nightmare realm, it was.. Something. He was still figuring out half of the features, but he’d deduced that it worked as a translator, watch (counting the days since it happened was fun. Thirty-two days), and a wallet holding a currency called “credits”. Luckily for him, all the places he’d been to seemed to take them.

The entire multiverse had a universal currency except for Home. He’d be damned.

In front of him stood a large, futuristic building with a holographic sign that read, “HUMAN HOTEL”. With smaller text saying, “The authentic Earth experience!” Ford doubted that. Regardless, it was the first hotel he’d seen that didn’t look.. bad. But with all good things came caveats. Because the hotel was not bad, he could not afford it.

Did he want food, or shelter?

He looked up at the sky, stars and distant dimensions twinkling above him in a display that was beautiful for the first few days he’d spent in this hellscape, and sighed. It wasn’t beautiful anymore. He missed when it was beautiful.

It’d been a while since he’d slept. Running on empty like this was a horrible idea.

Food for that day had been taken care of– he ate at a restaurant just down the street (well, he’d heard people call them “systems”, but he stuck to calling them streets for familiarity). But if he spent money on a hotel he wouldn’t eat later. But if he spent money on food he’d have to either stay awake even longer than he already had or find somewhere else to sleep. Somewhere he’d be much more vulnerable than a hotel room.

..Maybe he just wanted to sleep in a bed. Fine. Fine! He’d admit! It’d been a while!

Look at him. He had an education and he was trying to decide between sleeping or eating. It just felt like “bad or worse”! This was.. Frankly, this was bullshit. What did he do to deserve this!? 

…

He didn’t get it. 

A deep breath was taken, and he steeled himself. With every problem came a solution. And he was going to find it. 

Ideas already ran through his mind– what if he.. Tried to charm the receptionist?

He walked up to the receptionist with a completely blank expression. “I like your face hole!” chirped Ford in a too-loud voice, and the receptionist screamed and clocked him in the head with a tape dispenser.

Right, he was terrible with people. 

Perhaps he could break in.

Ford cackled maniacally as he pushed down the plunger of a comically-large detonator, and the wall blew up in a spray of debris. About five seconds later the police showed up and he had a different place to stay the night– wherever they took criminals in the multiverse.

No, and why was that fantasy so cartoonish?

As he denied several more plans, he decided that nothing would work. Then he’d just.. Go a little longer without sleep, that was fine. That was great, even! So great that he didn’t want to look at that sign anymore, or the building!

Two.. people? Walked past him, and a snippet of their conversation registered in his mind. “Yeah, so, I’m just gonna say it. I was totally lying.” “Ooh, you are just a bitch!”

Curiosity about whatever drama they were in aside, maybe lying wasn’t a bad idea.. Yes! That was it! But what lie to tell? His eyes darted around.

There was no sign of a real human in the area, he noted as he side-eyed an m-shaped person walking past. Hopefully he never found what dimension that was from. No humans in a place made to be human like. That was exploitable. 

Like second nature (he assumed it was all the liars in his family) he spun what he could only hope was a believable story, took a breath, put on his “social interaction” face, and walked up to the entrance. He fixed his coat and smoothed out his hair.

“You gotta look like you belong,” he remembered him saying in high school. The day he shoplifted beer from a gas station. “Nobody’ll give you shit if you ARE the shit, y’see?”

Maybe he could do something good for once instead of ruining Ford’s life. Again. 

Ford pushed the door open with that idle smile he trained himself to keep on around people, looking around the room. It looked.. Just like a hotel back on Earth, he noted in spite of the striking appearance it had outside, adjusting his translator until the person at the desk made sense.

“Khoor, zho- pbzr gb gur- human hotel! How can I help you?” They leaned against the counter, a nametag pinned to their shirt reading.. Symbols he didn’t care to translate at the moment. 

In spite of his exhaustion, he greeted them with a small wave. “Hello! I was sent from Earth to judge the validity of this establishment’s claims.” He did air-quotes with his fingers (nobody seemed to mind that he had six) as he recited, “‘The authentic Earth experience’-- we have laws against false advertising.”

The receptionist blinked all four eyes at him, then narrowed them with concern. “Oh.. I see.” They nodded, a three-fingered hand raising to scratch at their chin. 

“It seems to me like the lobby is very authentic, but I’ll need to perform a thorough examination.” He made a show of looking around, appraising the interior decoration. Then his eyes darted to the room keys hanging on the wall behind the desk. Which rooms weren’t booked.. A random one was picked and he said, “room 104 is already reserved for me,” and then prayed.

Ford kicked the door to room 104 open with a thud, spinning the key on his finger with a triumphant laugh. Then he cleared his throat and politely closed the door behind him because he wasn’t an animal and there were other people here and he should be considerate. 

The key was lazily abandoned on the bedside table, and Ford faceplanted into the pillow. He didn’t even take off his shoes. That was how tired he was. Now that he’d hoodwinked his way into shelter, he could afford to eat something tomorrow. Perfect! And all it took was..

He sighed.

His advice. He couldn’t believe he’d listen to him after everything. No, he couldn’t believe that it worked! He couldn’t believe he stooped to his level, and was rewarded for it with a warm hotel room! For doing nothing! 

..It was a damn comfortable bed, though. 

“So what if I’m no better than him?” He asked himself. “Maybe.. Maybe he was onto something. Just because he had a vision doesn’t mean he’s in the right.”

Rolling onto his back, he stared at the ceiling.

“What am I if not a conman just like him and Dad..?” He dragged a hand down his face. It couldn’t have been a coincidence that the restaurant he’d eaten at earlier was called “Tom’s Existential Bites”, why would he eat at– and the slogan, “Food so good you’ll wonder what the point is if we’re all gonna die in the end”!? 

Shaking his head, he continued his little soliloquy. “What would he say about it? ..He’d probably encourage it.” A chuckle escaped him despite himself. He mumbled in his impression of Stan, “stealing’s fun, too, you should try it. Can’t afford to BUY anything.”

Scoffing, he silently questioned what prompted Stan to say that. “You’re the one who did this, if I were Home I’d be doing perfectly fine.”

“You’re not, though,” he felt deranged for responding to himself like this. But.. Stan’s voice was irritatingly soothing in a way. The first human beside his mother who made him feel human and the last human voice he’d ever hear beside his own. “And you’d still have to deal with–”

“Him.” This was devolving fast, that interruption came too naturally. He was too used to acting out non-player characters in Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons. Oh, fuck.

Ahem, ‘Stan’ replied, “yeah. Him. Never told me who ‘him’ is, by the way.” 

Familiarity was a thing humans clung to for dear life. That’s all this was. The desire for familiarity. This was his humanity shining through in a place where humans didn’t exist.

“I.. couldn’t tell you. But he’s hurt me.” A hand reflexively brushed underneath his right eye. “..Severely.”

“I’ll kill him. I swear, Ford. You know I’d do that for you, right?” 

He bit his lip, unsure if the statement was true. He wasn’t sure of anything. “Right. He’s much stronger than you think, though, he would just..” His chest tightened, and he hated it. This shouldn’t affect him. 

Alas, the thought of what Bill did to him– the thought of that happening to Stan– made his eyes sting with tears. “The shit he did to me.. I can only hope he’s not back Home right now, playing the same games with you.” He blinked, and a single tear rolled down his right eye.

“Don’t–” he took in a shaky breath. “Don’t cry. You’re better than this.” He pathetically cupped his own cheek to wipe away the tear, half-pretending it was Stan. “I’m not gonna fall for his shit, okay? Worry about yourself right now, get some rest.”

Ford’s brows furrowed, and he shook his head. “I wanted to,” he muttered, “but I don’t think I can.” He ran a hand down his face. “This must be how I made you feel. Trapped, afraid..”

“Hey, don’t be like that, you..” he trailed off, shaking his head. This was pointless. The quicker he rested up, the quicker he could get back to his mission, the quicker he could defeat Bill and live. The quicker he could fucking live.

He rolled over, not without a final plea under his breath. “..Please, Stanley.” A beat of silence passed. “Just please be okay.”

Stan was resourceful. That was how he survived after he got him kicked out. Stan would be fine.

He had to be.

“Love you, bro,” he said in Stan’s voice to himself. Why would Stan love him after everything?

He didn’t know, but he replied, “I love you too, Stanley.” The next words escaped him almost on instinct as he shut his eyes and already found himself drifting off. “..I’m sorry for everything.”

[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.

[brightdrawings]

Unexpected Meeting

"Hello to you too, Pa." Rosie said, her words were as bitter as her expression.

"Rosie I-"

"Cannit." She interrupted.

Stan, Dipper and Soos remained silent, the tension of the room too tense for any of them to make a move.

"Auntie Rosie is that-" Mabel looked between the disheveled man that stumbled through the broken portal and her usually gentle aunt.

"Not now sweetie, I've somethin' important to deal with right now." Rosie said, she gave Mabel as best of a calm smile as she could before turning back to Stanford, her expression falling the instant her eyes left Mabel.

"Please, darling, I know I was wrong I'm so-"

"Don't you try to apologise Mister." She spat. cutting down her father's words with her stare. "30 years. 30 long long years yer brother an' I toiled at this blasted machine trying to get you back. I told 'im it weren't worth it. I told 'im you got what you deserved. but he didn't listen. I couldn't watch Uncle Stan throw his life away workin' on this accursed portal. He didn' deserve that. but he was stubborn. Too bullheaded to listen to reason. Just like you."

"Rosie-"

"You hold your tongue. you don' get to call me that anymore. not after you ruined my life!" Rosie stamped her foot. her voice rang through the portal chamber.

Stanford held his tongue.

"Ya notice anyone missin' here Stanford? Anyone you promised to support through sickness and health? You didn't did you? Just like ya did back then too. I had ta watch pa lose his mind and become worse and worse till he couldn't recognise me no more. Do ya know what that's like? Goin' to visit a man who held me when i was afraid, only for him to chase me out of his shoe box shanty 'cause he don' recognise me?" Rosie cried. he glasses began to fog from her tears, her cheeks burned red as she spoke.

"I- i didn't know." Stanford said in a small voice. his shoulder hunched as He tried to meet his daughter's gaze, but she refused to grant him that luxury.

"Ya didn't know 'cause ya didn't wanna know! We were working swell. ya both had amazin' jobs but ya threw it all away and for what? so that some demon could promise you the moon and stars? Was Pa not enough? Was I not enough?" She choked out between tears.

She fell to her knees. tears flowing freely as a damn built over 40 years finally broke. after so long she had finally reunited with her father. she had wanted to be happy, she had wanted to rebuild what she lost. But seeing the face of the man who had thrown everything away dashed those dreams in an instant.

Stanford stood silently, his gaze cast down in shame. He reached his hand out to Rosie, but he could hardly recognise her. He watched as Stan walked up beside her and laid a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. She instantly pulled him down into a hug, crying into his shoulder. The sight of his daughter crying Stan's arms cut ford deep. it should have been him that was comforting her, not Stan. him and fiddleford. But he watched As the two children and the strange gopher walked to her side and embraced her in a family hug. Just like he and Fiddleford used to give her when she was awoke from a fearful dream.

Standing on the far side of the cold portal room. Stanford realized that despite escaping Bill's domain, he had yet to truly awake from his nightmare.

----

art by @stephreynaart

wrote this little piece after Steph showed off the above art in this post https://www.tumblr.com/stephreynaart/767722582172631040/au-for-my-au-aint-no-story-here-the-image-came and the words just started flowing. I hope you enjoy the angst as much as i did writing it!

[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!)

[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

[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.

[typing-catastrophe]

You see me? - part one (stanford pines x hallucination!reader)

masterlist 1k words | warnings: none --------------------------------------------------

'This is new', he thought, looking straight ahead at something that he was sure he shouldn't be able to look at.

"Can you see me?", a beat of silence, "You can, can't you?" there was caution in your voice, almost as if you wouldn't let yourself believe it. "Please say something"

Ford kept quiet.

"Say something."

Nothing.

"SAY SOMETHING!"

Ford sighed, took off his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. The long hours and relentless work were starting to get to him. He put his glasses back on and turned back to his desk.

"No, no! Please!" you begged, panic rising in your voice.

'Perhaps not entirely new, but certainly concerning.' He couldn't recall if Bill ever did actively made him hallucinate when he was lucid, or if everything he experienced was already in the mindscape, but either way - what was happening in this very moment felt a bit too realistic for his liking.

What was happening, broken down to its very basics, was that a stranger stood in his study. And they simply had no way to be there. Apart from the fact that it was the middle of the night and the shack was closed, the way to his study was hidden and he did not hear the elevator move or open its doors. No one except for him should and could be here. No one was here when he came down here hours ago. There was no place they could've hidden. There was no possible scenario in which the situation at hand could've taken place. So the only option left, in his blurry mind, was that the last 30 to 40 years finally caught up to him and he was going insane.

At that moment he didn't even consider a paranormal explanation. Maybe because he believed the shack was sufficiently secured against all kinds of anomalies and supernatural occurrences. Or maybe because in the back of his mind, he always did ask himself when the time would finally come when his mind simply... snapped.

Years and years of stress, mind fuckery, all kinds of injuries and multiverse jumps must've left their mark on his psyche in some way after all.

But what did surprise him was the... well, normality of it. It was just a person. It would've made more sense to see Bill or any of the other things he saw in his frequent nightmares. Maybe the more severe ones would come later?

He propped open the new journal he had started recently and poured his thoughts onto the paper.

-

You could only watch in confusion and hurt when the man turned away and got back to whatever the hell it was he was doing all the time.

What had just happened? When he looked up from his work, his eyes landed on you. He didn't look through you like every other time and everyone else. This time was different! But why did he act like it wasn't? What was he doing? Why was he ignoring you?

Your newfound hope left you as abrupt as it had appeared. You felt so impossibly lonely again. Empty, distant, cold. Ever so cold with no source for the freezing feeling that seeped deep into your bones.

He could see you. You knew it.

This wasn't like the times when you were screaming and crying and pleading for him - for anyone - to hear you.

He. could. see. you.

And you knew it.

-

For a good minute, Ford stared straight ahead at the blank page. He desperately tried to form a coherent thought he could write down, but when he tried to get a hold of them, it felt like his metaphorical hands moved through fog, swirling eerie patterns into it, but never grasping anything solid.

The urge to let his head sink onto the table got stronger by the second, yet he resisted. He squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep inhale and straightened his back. He got this. He didn't need to sleep, not yet.

He stood up and stretched his arms over his head, stifling a yawn while doing so.

"Why are you ignoring me?" You had sat down on the floor a respectful distance away from him, legs pulled close to your chest, arms hugged tightly around them. Now you looked up at him with genuine hurt in your eyes.

You didn't know this man, and he didn't know you. The only circumstance that justified the sharp pang in your chest was the fact that he was the only one around actually being able to perceive you, yet for a reason unbeknownst to you, acted like he wasn't.

'Still there, hm?' he thought. He had hoped shifting his focus onto something else would help, but apparently, it did not. The figure was still present, still talking to him. He would like to take a proper look at it, but he was afraid that engaging with it would make the whole thing worse. You were not doing anything at the moment, and he'd rather keep it that way.

He yawned again, cursing himself for indulging in the weakness of his own body. It felt like it was betraying him, lulling him in and tempting him to lay down. But he knew what would inevitably follow. The pain, the torture, the guilt. He could not let that happen. Bill would not claim any more of his time and thought than absolutely necessary. He would not willingly leap into the open arms of whatever terror was already waiting for him.

"You should go to sleep. It's late. And you look tired." Ford almost scoffed at that.

All he needed was some good old, reliable coffee and he was as good as new. So he went upstairs, grabbed a new mug to set down next to all the other mugs on his desk and workbench, filled it to the brim with the dark, hot liquid and made his way underground again.

He was relieved to see that his hallucination apparently showed no interest in following him upstairs, but he was just as disappointed to see that it was still sitting in the same spot when he returned. He sat the mug down and with a defeated sigh lowered himself onto his chair.

It was going to be a long night.

-------------------------------------------------- thank you for reading <3 reblogs are appreciated masterlist a/n: holy shit i did it! i found the time, energy and motivation yaayy @cynamon-ancymon thought this might interest you ^^ if not just let me know and i remove the tag

[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.

[strawburry01]

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

Okay it's here!