#He Got Along With the Twins Much Faster Than Stan Did

[stupidvillainousposts]

Werewolf Stan's Reaction to the Twins Showing Up Was Actually Pretty Aggressive

For whatever reason in this AU I've decided Dipper and Mabel's parents never told Stan the kids were being sent to Gravity Falls. So essentially Stan and Fidds are chilling one day when suddenly two small humans appear at their doorstep.

Dipper: *Knocks on the Door*

Fidds, quietly: What in Heaven's Name?

Stan, growling: Intruders. Don't worry, I'll eat 'em.

Fidds: Stanley, no! Ya can't eat strangers!

Stan: Why not?

Fidds: Well, for one thing they were polite enough t' knock. Secondly, someone might make a missin' persons report and we'd be in bigger trouble than we already are.

Stan: *Sighs Dramatically* Fine, open the door.

Fidds: Why me?

Stan: *Gestures to His Ears and Moves His Tail Around*

Fidds: Ah, right. Well then, I'll let 'em know that we ain't too keen on visitors. *Makes His Way to the Door* Um, pardon our silence, but we really ain't lookin' to welcome any visitors at the moment!

Dipper: What? Isn't this Stanford Pines' place?

Fidds, slightly shocked: W-well, yes? How d'ya know that?

Mabel: We're his great niece and nephew! Our parents sent us here for the summer!

Fidds: *Nervously Looks Back at Stan*

Stan, dead serious: I'm gonna tear them to shreds.

Fidds: No! *Faces the Door Again* Could ya give us a moment? We need t'... uh... prepare the shack!

Dipper: For what? We aren't moving in. Permanently, anyway. Just let us in, it's hot out!

Fidds, under his breath: Oh, dear...

Stan, with a hungry snarl: Alright, come on in if ya want, but I gotta warn ya that ya might not like what ya see!

Dipper: As long as you aren't doing anything illegal, I'm sure we'll be fine.

Fidds then proceeded to let Dipper and Mabel in, smiling awkwardly and completely unsurprised when they screamed.

Stan laughed at their reactions and spent the next three days terrorizing them before finally deciding to try and "bond" with them, via Fidds' adamant request.

Two days after that, Stan and Fidds fucked up with the portal and added two werewolf puppies to their weird family.

[aceistheplace86]

Strawberry & Pine Pt.5

(I think I am going to end this story here soon. But for now, you get some cute stuff) (I made Stan cheesy. I am not sorry.)

Stan had been getting closer to Julie during their time working at the shack and working on the portal together. He eventually admitted to himself that he was falling for her. He hadn’t been able to admit those feelings to her.

“You alright out here Stanley?” A soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

Stan had been sitting on the porch outside just trying to get his thoughts together. He was really starting to like Julie, he found himself always wanting to be around her and never wanted her to go home at the end of the day. But he couldn’t get himself to be brave enough to tell her, he felt he had too much going on, too much baggage. He didn’t feel good enough for her.

“Oh, yeah I’m alright” He glanced over at Julie who was leaning in the doorway. “The twins give you any trouble?”

Dipper and Mable had gone to bed but not before asking Julie to tell them a story. Mable was really the one asking but Julie knew Dipper was listening once she started talking about the Loch Ness “monster”

“They’re all settled down, hope you don’t mind I told them about Nessie,” She says sitting down next to him on the couch.

Stan sighed “I don’t enjoy the fact that the kids know about the weird stuff that goes on here, but I know they already know a lot. They’re doing good at protecting each other”

Julie put a hand on his arm “You’re doing good at protecting them too Stanley” She whispers softly.

He looks at her, finding himself taking notice of her eyes again. She had pretty eyes, she was pretty, and she smelled like Strawberries. It wasn’t a sickly sweet, she smelled comforting.

God he was going crazy.

“Y’know Ford wrote a lot about you” He whispered. Why on earth did he bring up his brother to her? That was not a flirting technique in the slightest.

Julie seemed shocked but nodded slowly “Yeah I know” She looks back out ahead of her, sinking back into the couch. “He liked to study me, my powers, my strengths and weaknesses”

Stan kept looking at her even when she looked away. He didn’t say anything, he just wanted her to keep talking.

“At first it was nice, I thought I had a friend” She shakes her head “But I started to realize he didn’t see me like that. He just saw me as apart of his research.”

“I see you” Stan whispered, the words falling out of his mouth faster than he could realize what he had just said.

Julie looked over at him “What?”

She was looking at him again and he felt like a kid with a high school crush. His brain. Could. Not. Work. “I uhm” He stuttered “You know cause, I’m not that old, despite what Dipper says when I’m driving” He let out an awkward laugh and quickly looked away from her.

He could see out of the corner of his eyes that she was just looking at him “Stanley” She whispers softly. He’s kind of hoping that she will force him to talk about whatever the hell that was, to talk about his feelings. Something.

But she didn’t. “I should probably get going” She stood up from the couch “You should get some sleep here soon”

Stan watched her stand, he felt like he was about to lose his only chance. He didn’t think he would be this brave tomorrow. “Julie wait” He patted the couch when she turned to look at him. Once she took a seat he sighed heavily. “We’ve been doing great work with the portal” he said slowly.

She was just looking at him patiently, not a hint of judgment or annoyance on her face. “And I know soon we’ll get that thing turned on. A-and I like spending time with you, y’know, you’re a hard worker here at the Shack and-and you get along real well with the kids” He rubbed the back of his neck “My brother wrote a lot about your magical talent but I uh, I think I got lucky getting to know you as a person” He groaned and ran his hand down his face “That sounds real lame” he mumbled.

“It’s not lame, Stanley” She says with a small smile on her face. “I think you might be the first person to make an effort to treat me like a person”

He moved his hand and looked at her confused “Whaddya mean?”

“Well everyone knows about me and my magic, so that is their focus. I get it, it’s cool to have a Gravity Falls "anomaly" do fun magic and not try and attack the town, but after a while, it gets frustrating to only be known as a witch” She shrugs “But you have never once asked me to be apart of the Mystery Shack's attraction, and I know that would bring in tourists” She chuckled “But you made me strawberry pancakes my first morning here, you offered me a room and you took time to decorate it with my favorite color”

Stan shrugs “Mable has a lot of pink and she likes to decorate”

Julie just laughs “But you care Stanley. You’re sweet to me, You didn’t even ask me to use my magic to help with the portal, I just did it.”

“Yeah, I dunno how much magic you can use before you get tired or somethin’ and I didn’t want to wear you out cleaning up a mess you didn’t make”

“See, you’re real sweet to me” She continues “I knew that even when your brother talked about you, even though he was upset it was hard for him to convince himself, or even me, that you were the bad guy”

“He talked about me?”

Julie nodded. “Ford is a stubborn shit but he cares.” She rolls her eyes slightly “he just doesn’t really show it well”

Stan nodded and thought about it for a moment “I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you this without sounding like some love struck teenager” He rubbed the back of his neck “But I don’t think that’s possible because you make me feel like that again. Like how I used to be before all of this” he waves his hands and looks around “went down” He looks at her “I like being around you Julie. I-“ He just nodded slowly.

“I like you too Stanley” She says sitting back with him. “Hey I’ve been thinking of a good way to scam tourists”

“Oh yeah?” he leans back against the couch and pulled her into his side “Whats that?”

Julie comfortably snuggled into his side “You get people to pay money to enter a drawing to win a prize, you get everyone all excited and you make them think that the more they pay the better chance they have at winning” She continued “The twist. All that they’ll win is a shirt that says ‘I entered the Mystery Mania Raffle and all I got was this lousy t-shirt’”

Stan busted out laughing, tossing his head back “That’s a good one! Real smart” He kissed the top of her head “I like that”

The two of them stayed out there all night, talking about ways to trick tourists, some of his funnier crimes and eventually about what life was like before Gravity Falls, and what might happen after this portal gets fixed.

Mable and Dipper found them asleep together the next morning. Mable has pictures.

(I hope you enjoyed this! The next part is gonna be sad. Yay!)

[creat0r-cat]

Bill Cipher x reader (6) - Creator and Demon

------

As we sped through the forest, I could faintly hear the shouts of my sister for help. My right eye burned, similarly to how it had earlier that day. I was scared, not for myself but for Mable.

Questions and worries flooded my brain. What if Norman really was a zombie? What if my sister was getting eaten alive at that very moment? Did I just get my sister killed by letting her go out on that date? I'm such a horrible sister. What will I tell mom, dad, and Grunkle Stan?

As we approached the clearing where the noise was coming from, my eyes widened. Dipper sputtered in confusion at what we were seeing. "The more you struggle, the more awkward this is gonna be.. just, okay, just get her arm, Steve." Shouted a little bearded man from a mossy rock. In front of him, was Mable, surrounded by more tiny men. 

"Let go of me!" She retaliated, punching one of them in them face then kicking him away. He landed near some rocks where be began to throw up a rainbow. Dipper and I exited the car, standing before the small crowd. 

"What the heck's going on here?" My brother asked, confused. The gnome from before hissed at us before returning to his brethren. "Guys! Norman turned out to be a bunch of gnomes and they're total jerks!" 

"Gnomes..? I murmured, realizing that I was right all along as the burning in my eye subsided. Dipper checked out the page in the journal, reading aloud that they had no known weakness. "Oh, great!" Groaned Mable from her spot on the ground, where she was now tied down like that one scene in Night At the Museum. 

"Let our sister go." I demanded and the gnome in front of me turned around to face us. "Oh, well. Hi! Sorry, this is all just a big misunderstanding. You see, she's going to marry all 1,000 of us and become our queen for all of eternity. Well, that is, unless you want to take her place?" He said, looking up at me. "You are a more suitable candidate, after all you are older than she is. She's only a last resort if I'm being honest and even then we'd wait till she was of age before doing anything. I mean, we aren't that creepy." I glared at him. "As much as I appreciate your honesty and the fact that you guys don't want to be pedophiles, you won't be marrying either of us."

"Yeah! You're all a bunch of butt faces!" Mabel shouted before one of her captors covered her mouth. "Listen, you don't want to mess with us gnomes. You two don't know what we're capable of. We're a powerful race so do not trifle with-" He was interrupted by Dipper easily scooping him up with a shovel and tossing him away. We ran forward, knocking away the other gnomes and cutting the bindings easily with the shovel's edge. 

I picked Mable up and the three of us ran to the golf cart. "Seat belts." I reminded them before reversing and speeding out of the clearing. We could faintly hear the shouts of the gnomes behind us. "Hurry, before they catch us!" Shouted Mable and Dipper patted her on the shoulder. "I wouldn't worry about it. Did you see their little legs? Those suckers are tiny."

A roar from behind us drew the twins's attention away and their eyes widened. "(Y/n)!! DRIVE FASTER!!" I looked in the side view mirror and was shocked to see a giant sized gnome monster. "Dipper! Does that journal of yours say anything about the gnomes being able to do THAT?!" 

"Checking!" He said, flipping through the pages of the book as I swerved and tried to dodge incoming gnome attacks. Unfortunately some got on the roof and tried climbing down for an attack. Mable punched one in the face, Dipper whacked one with the journal, and I slammed one into the steering wheel before throwing him away. "Nothing in here, sis! I don't think the author knew about it!" Said Dipper, finally finding the page.

I let out a yelp as a gnome that landed on the hood of the cart tried to attack me. I dodged but he attacked Dipper's face instead, my brother screaming in panic. "I'll save you. Dipper!" Exclaimed Mable as she repeatedly punched the offender in the side. He finally flew out of the cart, but took Dipper's star hat with him. "Thanks, Mable.." He said, his rolling slightly to the side, a little stunned after taking some damage meant for the gnome. "Don't mention it" 

Behind us, we heard the giant grunt with effort, as well as the sound of ruffling leaves. A shadow passed over us and my eyes widened as a whole tree, complete with roots crashed onto the path ahead of us. "Hang on!" I swerved the cart and it drifted underneath the fallen tree, and spun dangerously before coming to a complete halt in front of the Mystery Shack. 

Dipper leapt out of the vehicle and faced the monster with the shovel from before. I held the bat in my hands, standing beside him and in front of my sister. "Stay back!" the male twin shouted, throwing the shovel at the monster who promptly punched in down into the ground. Our eyes widened and I grabbed Dipper's shoulder, bringing him behind me too. "Where's Grunkle Stan?" He asked, holing onto his sister in fright. Indeed, he was no where to be found.

"It's the end of the line, kids." Said the head gnome, at the very top of the monster. "You, Mable's sister, marry us before we do something crazy." My right eye began to burn even more and Mable grabbed my hand, taking the bat away. "I have an idea." I somehow understood what she meant and nodded, stepping forward. "Fine, I'll do it. Just leave my family alone." 

"What?! (Y/n), are you crazy? There's gotta be another way!" Panicked Dipper, taking the journal out of his vest. "Trust me. I've got it all under control." I said, smiling softly and petting his fluffy hair. He nodded sadly and he and Mable stood away from me. "She'll do it, Jeff. (Y/n) will marry you." 

'His name is Jeff?'

"Hot dog!" Said the gnome happily, ordering the others to let him down. "Also, (Y/n)! That's a pretty name! I like it!" He walked in front of me, not noticing how my siblings disappeared from their original positions. Jeff held out a leather box with a shining diamond ring inside. He motioned to his mouth, indicating that he wanted me to kiss him. I felt nauseated but shook my head, offering my left hand. He slid the jewelry onto my ring finger with a smile. "Batta Bing Batta Bam! Now let's get you back into the forest, Honey."

I laughed softly. "You may now kiss the bride." The gnome stopped and looked back at me. "Well, don't mind if I do." He puckered up and I pretended to lean in, only for Mable to switch on the hidden leaf blower beside me in a pile of leaves. Jeff's eyes widened as I pointed it at him threateningly. "Woah, woah hey, what's going on here?" He said in panic as he was sucked into the leaf blower. I handed it to my sister with a smirk.

"That's for lying to me!" She announced, glaring at the captured creature who looked back at her with fear. She switched the leaf blower into reverse.

"This is for breaking my heart." The gnome yelped in pain as the suction got to him, the pressure building till it was like a balloon ready to burst.

"And this is for messing with m family!" She pointed to the gnome monster who let out a collective gasp. "Do you wanna do the honors?" 

"On three!" Dipper announced, holding onto a leaver on the device. "One.. Two.. Three!!" We chanted as he shoved the lever to 'F' an Jeff went flying into the giant, making it explode into a thousand gnomes. "AHHH!! I'LL GET YOU FOR THIS!!" The leader screamed as he flew away into the forest with the remaining momentum. The result was chaos. Gnomes sat in piles, wondering who was going to give them orders and complaining about being sore. Mable used the leaf blower, making them yell and run for the forest in fear. One ended up getting caught in some trash which was picked up the local goat, Gompers. 

I walked over to the creature, who's captive was screaming in panic. I held the goat in place and gently released the gnome before taking off the ring and handing it to him. "Here, take this back to Jeff. I don't need it." He nodded before running away into the brush. Looking back, I noticed Dipper and Mable heading back into the shack. I caught up to them but Mable stopped us.

"Um.. hey guys. I'm.. uh.. I'm sorry for ignoring your guys's advice. You really were just looking out for me."

"Hey don't be like that," reassured Dipper. "You totally saved our butts back there."

"I guess I'm just sad that my first boyfriend turned out to be a bunch of gnomes." 

"Look on the bright side. Maybe your next boyfriend will be a vampire." 

The two of them laughed. "Awkward sibling hug?" The male twin offered and she nodded. "Awkward sibling hug." They embraced, ending it off with a "pat pat" which made me smile. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot. (Y/n), thanks for almost marrying Jeff to protect us. I'm sorry for what I said before. I really thought you would accept my new boyfriend and when you didn't I was really hurt."

"It's okay, Shooting Star. I know you didn't mean it. Plus, after what all we've been through today, I think we both know we forgive each other. Just don't go expecting me to "get engaged" to any of your next summer romances. I'm not ready for that kind of commitment." Mable giggled and we headed into the shop.

"Yeesh, what happened to you three? Did you get hit by a bus or something?" Grunkle Stan laughed and we rolled our eyes, heading for the stair way. There was a moment of silence before he called out to us. "Hey wait. Uh.. we happened to accidentally get too much merch in stock so.. how about you guys pick something out for yourselves. On the house, y'know?" 

"Really?" Mable and I said in shock. "What's the catch?" questioned Dipper. "The catch is pick something out before I change my mind." Replied our Grunkle Stan. Mable rushed around, looking at every single thing. Dipper walked over to a row of blue and white hats with pine trees on them. "This should do the trick." He said with a smile, looking at himself in the mirror. Mable gasped and rummaged through a box of books. "I'll chose a..." she spun around and I assumed she chose a pink one to be a diary but she opened her arms to reveal a "GRAPPLING HOOK!" she exclaimed. 

Grunkle Stan, Dipper, and I all looked at each other in confusion. "Aren't you gonna pick out a doll or something?" 

"GRAPPLING HOOK!" She exclaimed again, shooting it and hanging from a ceiling beam. "Fair enough." Laughed Grunkle Stan as the kids ran off to their room. I looked over toward the a case of jewelry. I walked over and noticed a beautiful necklace. I took it out of the case and hung it around my heck. It fit perfectly.

Grunkle Stan looked at me with a small smirk. "I'm surprised you picked that one out, kid. It's been in the shop for such a long time I was partially convinced no one would take it." I looked down at the charm and I smiled as I began to leave the room. "I'm not entirely sure myself why I chose it, but I did and I don't regret it. G'night Grunkle Stan." 

-(3rd Person)-

Dipper lay down on his bed, writing on an empty page in the journal. Mable jumped up and down on the twin bed parallel to his, laughing at her own antics and giddy with her new tool.

'The journal told me there was no one in Gravity Falls I could trust. But when you battle a hundred gnomes with people by your side, you realize that they've probably got your back."

Outside, on the roof, sat (Y/n), her (h/c) hair flowing behind her in the breeze. An (e/c) eye scanned the horizon while the second one was hidden from the world behind a black eye patch. She waved to Grunkle Stan, who was finishing closing up shop, before climbing back through her bedroom window, shutting it behind her.

'Our Uncle told us that there was nothing strange about this town, but who knows what other secrets are waiting to be unlocked?'

[crescentsteel]

Burns

pairing: Suna  x f!reader genre: fluff with slight angst (childhood friends to lovers) wc: 3.8k summary: you planned to confess to Suna on Valentines day. Unfortunately for you, he finds the holiday stupid.

[a/n]

Did this in one sitting, brain went zoom zoom

Not really comfortable writing for Inarizaki for some reason. Suna and Miya twins stans, don’t come for me. 

Thank you @tokyosdawn​, @luvnami​, @fayeiparis​ (my ride or die ily) for the betaread. 

ngl. I almost wrote smut after the fluff 

Happy Valentines Day! 🖤

This is it. This is the day. 

You’re finally going to confess to Suna. 

You have been close friends for so long, and for the whole duration of it, you have tried your utter best to feel only as such. 

You became friends with the rest of the Inarikazi team because you were always present in every game, with you being the loudest person to cheer for Suna leading everyone to pester him until he introduced you to them. Knowing Suna, he wasn’t fazed by his team’s persistent request and never mentioned to you that the team wanted to meet you. 

It had been Atsumu that day who approached you during lunch break saying that Suna asked him to ask you to attend their practice after class. 

You’ve been asking him non-stop if he can come watch them practice but he strictly prohibited you from going to the gym at all, so you were thrilled that he finally let you watch.. only to find him unpleasantly surprised that you were there. 

Apparently, the whole team thought you were dating. As much as you wish you were, you could only agree with Suna when he said you were just a long-time friend. 

But that changes today. Hopefully. 

You already know what confessing to him means, and you’re not ready to lose Suna as a friend in case this doesn’t work out. However, with the  both of you being third years already, it was now or never. You keep asking him what his plans after graduation are and he’s infuriatingly very consistent with his answer - a shrug and an apathetic ‘dunno.’

While you’re not ready to lose your friendship, you’re probably going to after high school — which is why you spent almost all of your allowance to buy ingredients to make homemade chocolate. It’s not actually that it’s expensive — you wasted so much ingredients making them that you ended up having enough for only three pieces. 

But you’re satisfied because they were of three different designs. Three cute fox-shaped chocolates of different colors. They weren’t perfect but you tailored them according to Suna’s taste - just mildly sweet so he can actually enjoy it.

You smile into the February air. 

You really aren’t sure about his feelings for you, but you know that you’re special to him. 

You’re his only female friend and despite his aloofness, he actually spends time with you outside of school. It was you who he spent New Year’s with. He celebrates your birthday even if you know he’s not really into that kind of stuff. He walks you home when you stay late from club activities. 

Being his friend since elementary school, you know he’s not the kind of guy to be nice to someone just for the sake of being nice. 

So instead of dreading for your confession, you’re actually excited. 

On your way to your first class, the chaotic twins block your path with a mischievous grin from both of them, except Atsumu’s way too obvious and upfront about it. 

“So, y/n. Anything for me?” Atsumu asks as he cocks an eyebrow at you. 

“Why would she give you any, idiot?” Osamu glares at Atsumu before turning to you with a smirk that makes you wary for some reason. “When she’s obviously giving them to Suna,” he adds.

You try to not look affected at his spot-on statement, but shit, you can already feel your heartbeat just a bit faster. Are you that obvious?

“Don’t you have hoards of shit from other girls? Why the hell are you ganging up on me?” you ask instead of answering Osamu’s speculation. 

“I want to show them to Suna during practice. His pretty little childhood friend givin’ me homemade chocolates,” Atsumu teases animatedly. 

Your eyes widen from what he said. “Wait, how did you know they were homemade?” 

The two give each other meaningful looks before Osamu leans down a bit on you. “So there really are chocolates, huh?”

You go rigid when you realize you’ve exposed yourself to these two. Shit, they’re going to tease you non-stop about this. Worse, they might tell Suna before you even get the chance to do it yourself. 

“Those are some burns on your hands, y/n. Have you treated those properly?” Atsumu eyes your hand that accidentally touched the hot pan yesterday. You tug the sleeves of your uniform lower to cover the purple-pinkish marks. 

“I’m going to be late for class, bye,” you abruptly bid goodbye and hurriedly escape from the two. God knows what else they’ll get from you if you stay longer. 

--

You erase your encounter with the twins from this morning. You can’t buckle down now. You worked hard for this day, both in body and in spirit. You’ve already had more than a fair share of doubts and second thoughts up until last night when you successfully pushed any cynicism away. 

You won’t back down, especially when Suna is just a seat away from you now. 

“Got any chocolates yet?” You prod at the topic as you put away your used cutleries. 

“Yea,” he answers lazily. “It’s so dumb.”

“What is?” you ask with a frown.

“Valentines,” he deadpans.  “Atsumu’s gonna get a fucking diabetes from the amount of chocolates he took from me because I was about to throw them away.”

You try to not let it get to you and breathe steadily to strengthen your resolve. You’re special to Suna. Surely, he won’t treat yours like that.

“What’s more idiotic is confessing this day,” he rambles on. “If a person really likes someone, why wait for Valentines to say it?” He asks rhetorically while putting away his own finished lunch. 

You feel your stomach lurch, like riding down a rollercoaster at full speed unexpectedly. You try your best to mold your face into an impassive expression to not give anything away.

On the inside though, you’re a mess. Your head feels too loud and the air feels too heavy. You want to close your eyes and disappear.

Then he looks at you. “What about you? Did you give chocolates to anyone?”

You vaguely hear his question. You feel like you’re in a bubble and every sound is muffled -- your classmates chattering, the chairs scraping against the floor, the laughter all around you feels distant.

You planned to give him the chocolates you worked so hard on, but definitely not anymore. He hit two things right (Or wrong? Who knows anymore.) on the marks and right now, you do feel idiotic for trying so hard. 

You should’ve known better. Of course, he’d find it stupid! He’s never the person to be all excited with events like this. What were you even thinking, spending all that money and effort when he obviously thinks the whole thing is a farce?

Did you really think this was going to go well? That he’d accept your chocolates and everything would be fine and you would go on as friends? In hindsight, there is never going to be a way out of this where you win. It is a stupid idea, and you’re stupid for even thinking about it.

‘Dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb,’ you chant in your head. 

“Y/n?”

You flinch and find him staring at you, waiting for your answer. His golden eyes are studying your face carefully. You think you see a little bit of concern there but you brush it off.

“Oh no,” you laugh hesitantly. “No way I’d waste my time on some boy on the very rare chance that he actually likes me back, pfft.” Your laugh turns ironic and bitter. “Like you said, it’s just a dumb holiday,” you respond with a forced smile.

“Anyways, I have to go back now. Later, Rin.” You quickly stand up and head to a comfort room because you feel like shit and you need to cry it out before your classes start again, else you’d be tearing up during lecture.

“Wait.” He grips your hand firmly, adding salt to the injury as you wince when he presses the burn you got from yesterday.

“Ow!”

He’s startled by your sudden reaction, but doesn’t say anything. 

He loosens his hold and moves his grip to your wrist as he pushes up the sleeve of your uniform, revealing the burn on your hand along with small others on your arm. 

“What happened to you?” he asks with muted concern while his eyes are trained on your arm, fingers gently skimming over the burns.

You aggressively retrieve your arm and pull your sleeve back down while you come up with a lie, “Oka-san needed help in the kitchen yesterday.”

He furrows his eyebrows with suspicion. “Why? Everyone knows you’re useless in the kitchen.”

Yeah, but you wanted to do something for him, and the burns would have been worth it if he at least accepted the chocolates you worked so hard on. 

“Honestly, I don’t even know.” You try to laugh it off, but you’re losing it already, so you just give him a quick wave with whatever smile you can muster and saunter away from him. 

After a pathetic sobbing session in one of the cubicles, you make your way back to your classroom looking as normal as you possibly can. 

Thank goodness it’s Valentines. You’re not the only girl with eyes puffy from rejection. 

“Hey.” You feel a hand on your shoulder and solely from his voice, you can tell it’s Osamu. “You okay?” 

Maybe it would’ve been better if you had fallen for Osamu instead. Despite being always teased by him and Atsumu, he’s actually a nice likeable guy. Unlike Suna. 

God, why did it have to be Suna Rintarou?

“Come with me,” you say without looking at Osamu and drag him with you back to your classroom. 

“Uhh, okay.” He sounds unsure but he goes with you anyway. 

You ask him to wait for you just by the doorway of your classroom and grab the stupid box of chocolates you made from your bag. 

You practically shove it to him when you get back to where he is. “Happy Valentines, ‘Samu,” you greet with a dead expression. 

Osamu gapes at you then at the box in hand, an expression of disbelief spreading across his face. 

“Weren’t you asking for chocolates this morning?” 

“That was ‘Tsumu. Also,” he looks closely at the box. “It says ‘Rin.’

You immediately rip out the wrapper where you wrote Suna’s nickname and tuck the crumpled paper in your pocket.

“There. It doesn’t anymore,” you announce passively.

Osamu scratches his head with discomfort. “I can’t accept this, y/n. I can give it to Suna if you want,” he offers kindly.

“Miya Osamu. Either you accept it or I’m throwing it away right now.” Your voice is dead serious and so are you. If Osamu won’t accept it, it’s going to the trash where Suna would’ve tossed it in as well. 

“Okay, okay!” He surrenders with panic and opens the box slowly. 

“Holy sh-,” he clears his throat. “I mean, wow. These are so cute, the cutest I’ve received today,” he comments appreciatively before returning his gaze at you. “You sure about this, y/n?”

You nod, more convinced now that you saw his reactions towards it. “Yeah. I figured I’d want to give them to someone who’s going to actually like them.”

The soft ring of the bell alerts you that your next class is about to start. 

“Thanks Osamu,” you utter with a grateful smile before sauntering back to your classroom. 

--

“Oy ‘Samu, why are these chocolates so cute? How the hell can I eat these?” Tsumu whines.

“You shithead, those are mine!” Osamu rushes to where his twin and grabs the box protectively.

Suna just watches the two and silently waits for another fight to erupt.

“You’d just taste them and give them to me anyways. What’s the deal?” Atsumu asks with a frown.

“If you must know, ‘Tsumu. Y/n gave this to me,” Osamu announces with a condescending grin as Astumu gawks at him in disbelief. “No fucking way, you stinking liar,” Atsumu retorts.

Suna looks at the tiny box Osamu is holding and agrees with Atsumu. There is no way you’d give those to Osamu. You said so yourself this morning.

‘No way I’d waste my time on some boy on the very rare chance that he actually likes me back.’

Did you lie to him and made some for Osamu? Do you like Osamu?

Suna’s mind wanders back to the burns on your hand and arms and how your mom ‘supposedly’ asked you to help out in the kitchen. He knows something is off. You’re never asked to help out with anything that involves cooking, so why did you lie about it?

So what is going on? There’s just no way in hell you like Osamu. Not once have you mentioned liking his teammate enough for you to  venture into the ‘horrors of the kitchen’ (as you put it). And more importantly, why Osamu?

It is true that Suna doesn’t give a shit whether or not  he gets a mountain load of chocolates on this superficial holiday. He’s not eating them. 

However, he’d make an exception only if they come from you. He wouldn’t mind if they’re just store-bought ones as long as they’re from you. 

So why the fuck would you go to the troubles of making them for Osamu and not him? You can’t possibly like Osamu. He won’t allow it.

He marches to where the twins are and turns to Osamu. “Did y/n really give you that?”

Both the twins face him and while Osamu looks pensive, Atsumu wears a shit-eating grin. “Aww, Suna. Are you jealous that your beloved y/n gave us chocolates?”

“‘Tsumu, shut up for the love of God. And she didn’t give it to us. She gave it to me.” Osamu pulls the box closer to him possessively which ticks Suna off even more. 

“Did she say why?” Suna tries to sound calm despite the stupid jealousy bubbling up the pit of his stomach. 

“Obviously because-” Atsumu starts, but Osamu grabs his twin’s face with one hand to halt his babbling as he sighs to face Suna. 

“Actually, the box had your name in it,” Osamu admits. “She just ripped it out and said she’d rather give it to someone who’ll appreciate it.”

“-mmmmff Samu!” Atsumu successfully removes Osamu’s hand. “You shouldn’t have told him that! Do you realize that y/n didn’t want him to know?”

“Duh! Of course, I know. But I really can’t accept chocolates that’re supposed to be for another guy,” Osamu sighs before handing Suna the box. 

He opens it and sees the fuss Tsumu was making about it. They really are cute and are obviously made with care and precision. If someone else had told him that you made these, he wouldn’t have believed them.

But there’s something about the chocolates that he can’t ignore. 

“Why are there bites on the two pieces?” He asks as he lifts his gaze up from the chocolates. 

Atsumu puts his hands behind his head and starts whistling as he avoids Suna’s gaze while Osamu smiles apologetically. 

“Sorry, I wanted to see if they taste as good as they look,” Osamu confesses. As for Atsumu, Suna can already tell that the piss-haired setter just couldn’t help himself despite receiving so many already.

“They’re a bit bland, Suna. Tell y/n she needs to improve her baking skills,” Atsumu comments shamelessly which makes Suna scowl at Atsumu’s ungrateful ass. The fact that you made something look edible is already something commendable.

“They’re okay. Just needs a bit more sweetness,” Osamu backs his twin up.

He brings the remaining chocolate that’s still untouched to his mouth.

“What are you two talking about? It tastes perfectly fine,” he states truthfully. It’s just the right amount of sweetness that he’s able to finish it despite not really being a fan of chocolates. 

Osamu laughs softly before speaking. “She really did make them for you, Suna.”

--

That night, you toss and turn in your bed while trying to keep your focus on the movie you played. As entertaining as it is, you can’t fully enjoy it with constantly wanting to smash your head against the wall of your room.

For a good while, you really thought everything would go smoothly and that by the end of today, you and Suna would be more than just friends. 

Maybe today is a sign that you shouldn’t push it anymore. Suna said so himself: if someone likes a person, they don’t need the holiday to confess.

So why hasn’t he?

The answer is clear as day and you wish you were blind to see it, but you aren’t. 

There had been too many chances for you two to move your relationship forward, but not once had he shown a sign that he wanted to. 

He doesn’t like you like that. It’s just you and your delusional head. He doesn’t love you the way you love him. Even with the cute, romantic scene playing before you, you start tearing up. 

You grab one of your pillows and bury your face in it, effectively silencing the sob and stopping the tears that are coming as you remember your folly attempt to confess today. 

You should’ve been satisfied with the comfort of your friendship. If you hadn’t been so greedy, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt like this. 

You hear a text alert from your phone. You open it and see a text from the source of your misery.

‘Come out’

You don’t want to. Tomorrow you can be back to normal around him, but not tonight.

You hurriedly respond with a lie.

‘Went out zzz’

You throw your phone somewhere on your bed and lie down with your pillow still squeezed between your arms while you space out at nothing.

Your thirst brings you back to your senses so you stand up and get to the kitchen. When you come back to your room, you almost scream when you see Suna sitting slouching on your bed. 

“What the heck, Rin?! How did you get here?” 

“Your mother let me in. Why are you even asking obvious questions?”

You massage your temples as you plan to tell your mom later not to just let anyone in your room even though it’s someone she knows. You might be childhood friends but you’re no longer kids. He can’t just pop in and out of your room anymore like he used to.

“Why are you even here? I said I was out.”

“Your lights are open, dumbass,” he answers, to which you respond with a sigh.

“Didn’t it occur to you that I don’t want to see you?” 

He stands up from your bed and although his expression doesn’t change, you feel alarmed from how he’s towering over you without saying anything.

“W-what?” Your stutter betrays your attempt to sound fine.

“Why the fuck would you give Osamu chocolates that are supposed to be mine?” 

You gawk at him. He isn’t supposed to know that. That bastard, Osamu! You don’t have a prepared excuse for this kind of confrontation. 

“What’s it to you even? You would’ve thrown them away anyways,” you snap back with an accusatory tone.

“Not if they’re from you,” he discloses as his usually austere eyes soften up, holding your gaze. You feel like you’re about to melt.

You feel your heart beat wildly against your chest. Not long ago you had said that you didn’t want to see him, but now that he’s here, you don’t feel like moving. You don’t feel like going anywhere. Everything could be on fire around you but you’d still stay by his side.

But… this is not right. Did you already know? He doesn’t love you back.

You try to turn away to hide the gnawing pain in your chest, but he’s faster. He grabs your arm to pull you closer. When he dips down to claim your lips while his arms snake around your waist, you melt within his hold. 

His lips are so warm and uncharacteristically tender as he moves them intricately against yours, causing you to place both hands against his chest to feel him even more, to feel that he is real and not just a dream induced by how badly you yearn for him.

He pulls away a bit and finds a bewildered look on your face that just makes you look adorable. There had been many times when he thought about doing this, especially whenever you’re staring into nothingness with parted lips as if coaxing him to fuck everything else and just cross the boundary of your platonic relationship.

But to be honest, he didn’t like the complications of being in a romantic relationship with you when you already have this comfortable friendship. At the end of the day, he knows you have him and he has you. 

Yet, he absolutely despises the idea that you might have liked someone else. He’s never felt any resentment towards his teammates, not even to Astsumu who’s a fucking handful most of the time.

Only today.

Only when he saw that box of chocolates in Osamu’s hands that he realized that he didn’t want to share you with anyone.

It was selfish of him, wanting to keep you to himself but not really doing anything to actually make it happen.

That changes tonight. 

He removes one hand from your waist to hold your hand that’s resting on his chest.

“I love you, y/n.”

You blink twice at him, evidently surprised with his confession, but immediately recover when you look down and giggle softly. 

When you look back at him again, your eyes are a mixture of content and mirth. “I thought you said it’s idiotic to confess on Valentines Day,” you remind him with a wide smile.

His loving stare becomes a cold glare when you point out what he had said this morning. He didn’t plan to do it today. He just couldn’t wait until tomorrow, thereby forgetting that he had actually told you that. Although, he still believes people shouldn’t wait for the holiday to confess, it just so happened that today is when he decided to do it.

“Fine. I take it back,” he says out of petty spite.

“I’m kidding!” you respond defensively before intertwining his fingers with yours. “Actually, I was about to confess earlier, but you said the stuff about Valentines being dumb.”

“It still is,” he says, undeterred. In his defense, he really hadn’t been expecting you would. 

“Right. Yet, here we are,” you state as a matter of fact as you grip his hand tighter.

“Can you answer the damn confession already?” he asks exasperatedly which makes you laugh out loud. 

You settle down with an affectionate smile. “Yes, Rin. I love you too.”

He loses his stern expression as he takes your hand to his mouth and kisses it, rubbing the minor burn with his thumb, a reminder that he does appreciate what you did for him. 

“Happy Valentines, I guess,” he says before he goes for your lips again.

mlist of other stuff I wrote

taglist (those crossed out can’t be tagged)

@ameliaxo @suikrem @akaashisslave @tsumurai  @babythotshq @loving-unicorns106 @flairlust @geektastic84​ @anaiss97 @hqbeesun @megatron-1199 @lovershaikyuu

[august-anon]

Tickle Monster

sequel to Tickletober 2020 Day 13 - “Wake Up!”

---

Someone on ao3 asked about a sequel to that fic literally in October of 2020, and mentioned it again in Jan of this year, and I’m finally posting this. I am so sorry this took ages, whoever you were, I hope you enjoy this lol

---

Fandom: Gravity Falls

Ship(s): Gen!!!!!!

Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Ford,Mabel,Dipper,Stan, Ler!Ford,Mabel,Dipper,Stan

Word Count: 1720 words

Summary: Dipper and Mabel complete their mission, distracting Great Uncle Ford, with flying colors. Unfortunately for them (and for Stan), Ford knows how to fight back.

[ao3 link]

ALSO: warnings for some light angst in the beginning because apparently i can’t write Ford as not angsty lol

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

Ford sighed as he watched Stanley go, that lost, desperate look still in his eyes. He really didn’t know what to do to help him at this point, and that hurt more than Ford had been prepared for.

It seemed that he just kept failing people.

He started this whole thing. He came to Gravity Falls in the first place. He brought Bill into this world. He was foolish and naive and power-hungry enough to listen to Bill’s lies. He built the portal Bill wanted, not considering the dangers. And he failed to protect his family, Stan especially.

And now his own brother could barely remember him.

Ford forced himself out of his thoughts as he moved toward the refrigerator. He said he’d make breakfast, so that’s what he’d do. Eggs could be easy enough, maybe even omelettes? Or perhaps pancakes, they were probably easy, right? They were just flour and eggs… and maybe they had some sugar in them? He’d figure it out.

He let out a bitter smile as happy, childish laughter rang out from the attic. Stan was a far better great-uncle than he was, even with his lapses in memory. It wasn’t really all that surprising to Ford.

Ford hadn’t really made all that much effort to be good with the kids, after all. Yet another failure of his.

He continued to struggle with breakfast, his bowl of pancake batter looking more like foaming grey sludge than anything edible. It seemed his multitudes of knowledge didn’t extend to cooking. He was debating starting over, maybe trying to actually find a recipe somewhere in this old shack, when he heard tiny footsteps thundering down the stairs.

“Great Uncle Ford!” Twin voices rang out.

Ford turned away from the counter, plastering a smile on his face that was probably more of a grimace. Dipper and Mabel slid into the kitchen on socked feet, giddy and giggling. A far cry from the tear-streaked faces he saw when he checked on them at night, making sure they were still there and alive, and finding them curled together in one of their tiny twin beds, clearly shaken by nightmares.

“Hello, kids,” he said. “You’re rather awake for the early hour.”

Mabel gave him a mischievous grin. “We’ve been tasked with distracting you.”

Ford furrowed his brow. “What--”

The two launched themselves at him and Ford’s eyes went wide in shock. He reached out to catch them so that they wouldn’t slip and hit the floor (tile floor and heads did not mix, Ford remembered that well from tussling with Stanley back in the day), but in doing so he overbalanced himself, toppling backwards and taking the kids down with him.

Before he could even begin to process what had just happened, and just what Mabel had meant by distracting him, he had two tiny bodies on top of him, pressing him into the tile. They had matching devilish grins focused on him, and Ford wondered what the hell Stanley had told them, and whether or not he needed to get up and run.

“Grunkle Stan told us about a monster that you might not have in your journals,” Dipper said, leaning forward.

Ford scrunched his face up in confusion. Was this just a distraction, as they said, or was Dipper telling the truth? Just as he opened his mouth to ask for clarification, Mabel leaned forward as well.

“Yeah, yeah! It’s such a cool monster, too! You know what it is?”

Ford shook his head, playing along. “No, what is this monster?” Perhaps if he placated them, he could get back to making breakfast before Stanley came back down and saw his pitiful progress.

Dipper and Mable exchanged an evil glance and grinned down at him. They raised their hands, fingers shaped in claws and wiggling wildly, and Ford felt a spark of recognition run through him. His eyes widened before they even answered.

“The Tickle Monster!” They shouted in unison.

And then, before he could even blink or think to defend himself, he had four tiny hands wiggling into all sorts of sensitive places. Ford tossed his head back against the tile and snickered quietly, trying to keep the worst of his laughter in. He couldn’t let two children best him!

But Mabel’s fingernails were wreaking havoc on the nerves of his ribs and neck, and Dipper’s fingertips digging into his sides and stomach weren’t serving him much better. He forgot how uncoordinated he got when he was tickled, not having been subjected to it since before Stanley got kicked out when they were younger. His hands were flailing everywhere, unable to latch onto either twin and save himself from their playful torture.

“No no no, you’re doing it all wrong,” a voice called out from the entryway. 

Ford felt a mix of dread, excitement, and anticipation fill his belly when he saw Stanley standing there. It only grew when he saw the spark of recognition in his eyes as he stalked closer.

“You gotta do it like this,” Stanley told the kids, and unceremoniously stuffed his hands into Ford’s armpits, scribbling away.

Ford howled, curling in on himself as best he could with two almost-teens still sitting on top of him and Stan looming over top of them all. He cackled madly and he could feel the tears building up in his eyes the longer the playful torment went on. It was so embarrassing, so humiliating, so…

Fun.

It felt kind of nice to let loose and laugh like he was, something he hadn’t done in a long time. The fingers driving him insane left him with no chance to overthink things as he usually did. All he could do was laugh and squirm and gasp for air.

The tickling abruptly halted and Ford sucked in a much-needed breath. He was naive to think it was over, however, because Stanley only grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head before grinning at the kids. A nervous, playful, fluttering feeling filled his stomach, and he shot a look down at the kids.

“Have at it,” Stanley said.

Dipper and Mabel laughed before darting forward, burying their hands into his armpits. Ford was lost to his hysteria once more, only this time it was worse. His hands were pinned, he could even pretend like he was trying to defend himself from their dancing fingers, and he was too weak from laughter to tug his hands back.

Just when Ford was finally reaching his limit, he tilted his head back and made teary eye-contact with Stanley. Stanley gave him a smirk and a wink before releasing his wrists and setting Ford free.

Ford shot up, still laughing, and tackled Dipper and Mabel to the ground, careful to cushion their fall and avoid any injuries.

“Do you know what’s even worse than a Tickle Monster?” He asked, voice hoarse from the laughter his vocal cords were no longer used to.

Dipper and Mabel were giggling and squirming, clearly having picked up on where this was going, but neither made an attempt to escape. They shook their heads.

Ford raised his hands, fingers curled threateningly into claws, just as they had done to him. “A six-fingered Tickle Monster.”

Dipper and Mable squealed as his hands darted forward, the two soon lost to childish shrieks and cackles as he tickled away. The wide grin still hadn’t left Ford’s lips, even as his cheeks and eyes began to dry from his own mirthful tears. He even let out a few more chuckles at particularly silly sounds the kids made.

Maybe he wasn’t such a failure with them, after all.

But there was still one thing missing from their morning full of laughter. Ford turned around, slowing his ticklish assault on the kids, searching out Stanley. He stood at the counter, a new mixing bowl in front of him, making something that looked a lot closer to pancake batter than Ford’s attempt was.

Oh well, can’t win them all.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook,” Ford growled playfully.

Stanley froze, his body tense, and he slowly turned around to face Ford, a nervous smile spreading across his lips. His hands were raised in surrender, and he looked ready to bolt at any moment.

“You were just so sad this morning,” Stanley tried to reason with him, “I thought the kids could help cheer you up.”

Ford raised an eyebrow. “If I remember correctly, you were rather melancholy earlier, as well.”

They stared each other down, trapped in their little stand-off as Dipper and Mabel giggled quietly behind Ford. Then, Stanley tried to bolt, but Ford was much faster, the two of them crashing to the floor in no time. He quickly got Stanley pinned underneath him.

“Any last words?”

Stanley scowled (though Ford could see the amusement dancing in his eyes, so he wasn’t too worried), but Ford never actually gave him the chance to speak. He dug his fingers in, skittering around with no rhyme or reason as he mentally catalogued Stanely’s tickle spots. Eventually, he settled on Stanley’s ribs, the left side, the second rib from the top (that always used to get him screaming), as well as the little patch of skin on the right side on Stanley’s stomach, just a couple inches under his ribcage (that always used to get him begging for mercy). Stanley yelled and burst out into wild laughter, shoving at Ford’s hands but being too weak to stop him.

“You little--” Stanley started to yell through his laughter, but Ford cut him off.

“Ah ah ah, there are children present, Stanley.”

Stanley only cackled louder. Though that could have also been due to the fact that Ford had upped his tickling.

But speak of the devil and he shall appear, for the kids chose that moment to again make themselves known. Dipper attached himself to Ford’s back, shoving his hands into Ford’s armpits and clumsily tickling away. Mabel, on the other hand, launched herself into Stanley’s chest and started scribbling away at his stomach and sides.

Alright, Ford thought. The kids want a tickle fight? I’ll give them a tickle fight. And he dove back into the fray.

Needless to say, breakfast soon became brunch and the Shack was filled with laughter for a long time to come.

[feanorianethicsdepartment]

more thoughts about the homecoming au, the au where maedhros and maglor get brought back to tirion after the war of wrath to be prettied-up trinkets on finarfin’s shelf, with painted-over scars and muffled screams. it is dark, it’s full of all kinds of emotional and caretaker abuse, and the brothers weren’t exactly in a good state of mind before any of this happened. @sunflowersupremes wrote the initial au that wasn’t even meant as horror, @outofangband - this au is as much theirs as mine, several of the concepts here were originally theirs, and a lot of this originally came out in dms with them. part 1 is here. this part contains gaslighting, loss of autonomy right at the end, more suicide mentions (thanks mae) and just general abuse from people who care more about their own comfort than the people they’re supposed to be caring for. it’s worse than the first part, honestly

most of the stuff the fëanorians had on them when they surrendered got taken away pretty fast. which is honestly understandable; some of it was cursed, a lot of it was weaponry, all of it stank to the high vault of the stars

but they both managed to hold onto some personal effects, or get them back before they went in the incinerator. a broken locket, a torn-up book, nothing fancy, nothing large, but things that still mean a lot to them

the valinoreans aren’t entirely comfortable with this. they find a lot of the brothers’ comfort items mildly disturbing, stained with darkness and (occasionally literal) blood as they are. maedhros had this dessicated finger he refuses to explain anything about that got disposed of very quickly

maglor has a few strands of brightly coloured thread, spun around each other somewhat inexpertly. he tends to pull it out when he’s feeling depressed, working it between his fingers until he feels like he can face the world again

one day, one of his minders who gets along better with him asks where he got it. from the twins, maglor admits. it’s part of some embroidery elrond abandoned when they left -

and it’s snatched out of his hands. his minder looks down at him compassionately. ‘i know you miss them, but you caused those boys a lot of pain, you know? you shouldn’t romanticise your relationship with them’

which - maglor’s relationship with the twins was complicated, and while it wasn’t nearly as hellish as elwing fears, it wasn’t entirely healthy. maglor was dependent emotionally on the kids a lot more than any adult should be to children, and vice versa

because the twins were the last people he had left. when maedhros executed celegorm’s servants with no warning at all, this rift began to grow between the sons of fëanor and their followers. they’d always been terrifying, but they’d also been comradely and inspiring, the white-hot stars around which their people orbited. but when they turned their fangs on their own host, all that started to fall away, leaving only the fear behind

it got worse after sirion. by the time vingilot rose in the sky, maglor’s only real remaining relationships were with maedhros, who he hated as much as he loved, and the twins. watching over them, talking to them, not hurting them - it kept him grounded in reality, kept him sane

he knows, he knows, he knows, they’re better off without him. but his time with them is the only happiness in his memories that still feels real

but the valinoreans can’t accept that. the exile was an awful time with nothing in it worth keeping, and the sooner he can recognise that the faster he’ll be back to his old self

besides. their caretakers don’t like being reminded of their more... unpleasant deeds

(elwing sidebar: elwing and eärendil are having an easier time, because the teleri have experience dealing with trauma and are also just more accepting of the right to have your own take on your own experiences. still, though, elwing occasionally hears that a proper telerin mother would have stayed with her children, even if she had to give up the treasure her people died for to the monsters of her childhood nightmares)

(elwing was a young adult in a horrendous situation with no obvious way out, elwing is dealing with her own damage as best she can, elwing is valid, we stan elwing. she’s also one of the few direct-ish sources the noldor have for beleriand and what the fëanorians did there, and her (perfectly reasonable!) perspective colours a lot of their treatment)

in general the valinorean noldor are quite sure they know what beleriand was like and how it felt to be there, and aren’t particularly interested in being proven wrong

it was miserable, it was harrowing, it was nothing anyone should want to think about. it was a long nightmare maedhros and maglor are so fortunate to have finally woken up from

and you can kind of see why they think like that? the ones who have seen the hither shores saw them when ash rained from a void-black sky and almost everything was dead, and the survivors told stories of a long hopeless defeat and cruelties beyond imagining

but that deep black image blots out the genuine joy they felt in those five hundred years, the chance to prove their own greatness, the knowledge they were doing something good, nights when music echoed across the gap, warm hands in a cold fortress. there were things in beleriand worth remembering, aspects of the people they became there legitimately worth keeping

and even if there wasn’t - five hundred years. the scars on their bodies make it plain to see, every little piece of who they are was shaped by beleriand, for worse and for better. they just can’t leave it behind

their valinorean caretakers find this horrifying

maedhros likes to exercise. it keeps him calm, gives him something to do. it’s not something nelyafinwë was super into - he was more the peripatetic type - but it’s a feasible hobby for a noldorin prince to have, so he’s allowed to do it

sometimes, though, he’ll unconsciously shift into the old combat forms, precisely timed drills ingrained into his bodies. the first few times he does this, his minders are bemused more than anything, but then one day he happens to have a stick in hand to use as a mock-sword

then every time he starts to slip away into that meditative trance, hands reach out to stop him and hold him in place. ‘there’s no need to fight here, maitimo,’ an elf he knew before the unchaining tells him ever so gently. ‘you’re safe now’

... they say that, but maedhros’ nightmares keep getting worse

it’s like that with everything that makes the valinoreans uncomfortable. whenever they try to speak of their time in beleriand, no matter what they say, they’re told that oh, they know it was hard, but it’s all over now and they don’t have to dwell on it

but even after they’ve spent years in paradise, maedhros and maglor still won’t let go and allow themselves to heal

they just can’t come to terms with the truth of their ordeal

the narrative the valinoreans have constructed erases all of the bright spots, but it also bleaches out the true darkness

certainly they did horrible things, but did they really have a choice? in such a harsh world, they always had to be on guard, lest they themselves be killed. these poor boys never meant to harm anyone, but their father’s cruel madness and the painful chains of their oath and the vileness of beleriand forced them into atrocities they never wanted to commit

(surely the monsters the sindar spoke of wouldn’t cry. they wouldn’t lose themselves in waking nightmares or curl up shivering in well-hidden closets, they wouldn’t jump away from a casual touch or watch every new person like they might be a threat. they wouldn’t convince themselves the children they stole were happy, or talk to the shade of a dead kinsman they abandoned. surely they wouldn’t. surely)

(because if they are, and they’ve let a couple of orcs loose into the royal palace...)

(maglor and maedhros’ movements are pretty restricted. this is mostly for their own protection, but it’s partially - well, just in case. just in case)

this rankles at maedhros, though he tries not to show it. terrible they might have been, but his choices were his own

he was a warlord, he was a king. he expected to be hated for the things he had done. he didn’t expect to be pitied. he didn’t expect to be dismissed

sometimes, when he’s surrounded by people earnestly telling him that he’s not a bad person, he never was, it was all pressure from his father and the oath, he wants to scream that he chose to attack sirion because he was so, so tired of diplomatically dancing around problems he knew he could solve with his blade

but he stops himself, always. he knows how much what little freedom they do have is based on them not being a threat

and he will not wash this peaceful, innocent land in blood. he’ll kill himself first

maglor has lost all such scruples

it’s not often, but when they’re behaving themselves and no one who’s likely to take offense is in town, the brothers get taken out to court events

they paint makeup over their scars (which still won’t heal, everyone is concerned by the implications of this) dress them up in finery, string them with jewels, and show off how well they’re doing

(even if maedhros rarely says anything, and they never leave each other’s side)

tonight, it’s a feast. a minor celebration, nothing too crowded, nothing too loud. there’s revels and merrymaking and all kinds of fun

and after the food has been cleared away, there’s music

would his nephew like to play something, finarfin asks. it’s hard to tell if it’s a request or a politely phrased order

maglor decides he doesn’t have the patience to be taken aside and tell how much everyone wanted to hear his music, and accepts

finarfin smiles kindly. he’s thinking about how maglor’s minders have been talking about how he’s finally stopped trying to sing depressing or horrifying songs and how his voice grows more melodious by the day

maglor is thinking about how they won’t even let him sing about his wife. he wrote no odes to her beauty or her skill in the forge, but he sang ballads about the swiftness of her spear and her laughter after a battle

none of which the valinoreans want to hear. they want to pretend that love never existed, that there could be any joy found in darkness, that she’s at all worth remembering -

he gets up to play, and launches into the most vicious, most hopeless, most painful part of the noldolantë

they try to stop him, but he’s the greatest warsinger the world has ever seen, he’s sung with blood in his lungs over the roaring of dragons, there’s little they can do to block out everything they’re trying to ignore. he wails defeat and death and grief and death and despair and death

when they finally manage to knock him out, their whole petty festival in tatters, shock on their faces, tears streaming from their eyes, all he can think is that if they understand now, even a little, it’ll have been worth it

for the first time, but not the last, he wakes up in a cell

finarfin comes to visit, and starts giving a very disappointed lecture maglor is in no mood to hear. instead he just snarls that nothing they’ve been doing is helping him at all, and he’s so sick of false sympathy and no one listening to what his actual problems are

finarfin shuts his eyes, says ‘i’m sorry to hear you feel that way’ and leaves

a few days later he wakes up with a collar around his neck

it’s demeaning, but he gets released that morning, so he rolls with it. he gets told to never do that ever again, first by his minders and then by maedhros

his minders he nods at until they leave him alone. maedhros he snarks back at that it’s not like he’s doing anything to improve their condition

only he can’t

the words don’t just freeze in his throat, they can’t even form in his mind. what’s happening, he can’t say. what did you do to me, he can’t say. he can’t even scream

as maglor is clutching at his neck (he can’t get it off he can’t get it off) and all the colour is draining out of maedhros’ face, the minder in the room smiles

‘see? this way you’ll stop making yourself and everyone around you miserable. you can still talk about happy things -’

‘they did this in angband!’ maedhros roars, a statement that provokes his first actual fight with their minders. he’s harder to pin down than maglor. bigger

but their caretakers are becoming annoyed with the brothers��� obstinate refusal to let themselves get better. they may be content to wallow in the misery of their past, but inflicting it on others is a step too far

they clearly aren’t going to move any further down the road to recovery on their own volition, so it’s become clear they need a gentle push. is it a little distasteful? yes, but such things are sometimes necessary in medicine

the bright cheerful princes they will be again will thank them for it

oh god how did this end up so long. the last one should be shorter, it’s mostly clearing up some loose ends. why did i write this

[fangirl-creates]

Summer Forever - Chapter 1: Aftermath

It was mid-afternoon, the leaves rustling in tune with the breeze. As the Pines family made their way deep into the Gravity Falls wilderness, they could feel the summer heat quickly blocked out by the shade of the forest. Mabel skipped happily through the mossy path, Dipper adjusted his hat occasionally to block out the spotlights of sun hitting his face, Stan shuffled with his hand in his pockets, and Ford wrote in his journal as he walked.

Stan noticed his brother almost slam into a tree while he looked down and quickly grabbed his shoulder to pull him back. “Careful, Poindexter. Don’t want anyone else to wind up with memory loss.” He pointed to his head, an eyebrow raise.

Ford looked at him with a blank expression. “That’s not funny, Stanley.”

“Hey, come on. I can joke about this now, can’t I? I got most of it back! Well, the important stuff anyway…”

Ford kept walking. “We still have a bit more to recover—including the memories the kids and I weren’t present for.”

Stan hummed. “Try not to stress yourself so much about recovering those ones. Besides, shouldn’t we focus on this ‘clean-up’ thing?”

“Right right.” He glanced over at Dipper and Mabel. “Find anything yet, children?”

“I found this leaf!” Mabel replied happily, holding it up so he could see. It was changing color and shape in a smooth motion, morphing before their eyes.

“Fascinating.” Ford opened a bag he had been carrying, pulling out a containment jar as he put the leaf inside, then placing that in the bag. “We must be getting close.”

“Close to what?” Stan gave him a look.

“The aftermath left behind from Weirdmageddon is more frequent in some areas of Gravity Falls—I figured the forest was a good place to start since most of the town’s weirdness already resigns here.” He walked ahead of everyone. “Let’s keep moving!”

Mabel walked next to her brother, looking up at the sky. “Man, I’m really gonna miss everyone once we leave.”

“Yeah,” Dipper put his hands in his best pockets. “But hey! If it’s any consolation, we made some pretty great memories.”

“Like totally beating the crap out of a dream demon?” She smirked, doing some kind of fighting stance.

Dipper chuckled. “Yep. Like that.” He felt the bark of a tree as he walked by, a sigh. Even though they’d be back next summer, 9 months was still a long time. And what about their parents? Oh god, their parents. He started to wonder what kind of letters Mabel had been sending them over the course of the summer. He prayed that their adventures were hopefully being brushed off as ‘childhood imagination’ and nothing more. But what if they weren’t? What if they were never allowed to come back? His paranoia quickly settled in and he stopped walking for a minute to calm himself.

“Dipper?” Mabel turned to see him resting on a stump, breathing a bit faster than normal. “You okay, bro bro?”

It was then Dipper felt grounded at the sound of sister’s voice, but his anxiety didn’t disappear. “Mabel..?”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t think Mom and Dad will get upset, right?”

Mabel gave him a look. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” He stood up. “We’ve gotten into a lot of danger this summer.” He rubbed his arm. “I don’t want them to think Grunkle Stan is a bad caretaker...I don’t-” He didn’t want their first visit to Gravity Falls to be their last.

“Dipper, it’s okay!” She put an arm around him, walking with him. “We’re still alive, aren’t we?”

“Yeah…”

“And we don’t have any missing limbs, right?”

“Yeah…” He smiled half-heartedly.

“Then you have nothing to worry about! I’m sure Mom and Dad will understand what we’ve been through! Well...most of it…” She wasn’t sure how they’d explain Bill or anything else that extreme. They probably shouldn’t.

Dipper shifted uncomfortably and Mabel frowned, glancing at her Grunkles ahead.

“Um, Grunkle Ford?” She called, making the two older twins both turn.

“Yes, Mabel?”

“Can we take a break? We’ve been walking for a while now..”

Ford pondered that question for a minute, then nodded. “I suppose we can, yes.”

“Great!” She grabbed Dipper’s hand and pulled him along as she went to find a spot to rest. The sound of a stream running quickly filled her ears and she stopped, letting go of her slightly dizzy brother. “The water’s kinda pretty…” She sat down, watching it.

“Yeah I guess,” Dipper shrugged, laying down on the grass. It wasn’t until his legs stopped moving when he realized how much they hurt. How long had they been walking for?

Stan and Ford eventually caught up, sitting down a few feet away from the younger twins. Ford’s attention was quickly drawn to the stream, his mouth feeling rather dry. He shook his head in protest, grabbing his canteen from his coat—only to find it was empty. He tapped his foot.

“Man, is anyone else parched?” Stan asked the group, gaining a few groans in response. “Those bottled waters we had went pretty fast…”

“Well, they were rather small.” Ford commented.

“Still.” His eyes were on the stream. “I’m gonna go grab a drink.” He stood up, but stopped once Ford put a hand on his shoulder.

“Stan, wait. That water might not be clean...or safe.” Something about it gave him a weird feeling.

“Sixer, it’s clearer than those thick glasses of your’s. Don’t tell me you’re not thirsty, to?”

The more it was mentioned, the more Ford couldn’t deny it. “Yes, but I can wait until we—Stan?!”

By the time he got over, his brother had already swallowed a couple handfuls of the stream’s crystal clear water. Once he finished, he stood up, gesturing towards himself. “See? It’s just water. Perfectly safe!”

Ford groaned in frustration. “I’ll have to check on you later to make sure you didn’t catch anything.”

“Oh relax. Look, I can tell by your face that you’re probably gonna pass if you don’t hydrate. So—hydrate!”

“Stan, I don’t—” He was cut off by Stan giving him a light shove towards the steam.

“Sixer, I don’t wanna keep reminding you to take care of yourself. Just drink.”

Ford rolled his eyes, giving in as he bent down to take a sip. The water was sweet, almost heavenly in taste. He didn’t realize how much he consumed by the time he wiped his lips of water drops.

“See? What’d I tell ya? Kids, you too!” Stan called to Dipper and Mabel who quickly ran to hydrate next.

Ford took a step back as he watched some nearby animals drink from the river, a hand on his chin. The gut feeling he had earlier wasn’t gone. And yet, he felt completely fine. But even then, the idea of this steam having any supernatural elements still made him nervous. This was Gravity Falls, after all.

The kids stopped drinking, walking away as they felt a lot better than they did earlier.

“You wanna keep resting or should we get a move on?” Stan asked them. Of course, it wasn’t until he said that when he felt a sudden wave of exhaustion. He wobbled.

“Stanley??” Ford put his hands on his brother’s shoulders, keeping him steady. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah yeah…” Stan protested, his eyelids getting heavy. “I just...need a minute…” A snore followed after and Stan was out like a light.

“Stanley, wake up.” Ford shook him a little, hesitant to slap him awake. Stan’s head drooped, still asleep.

“Grunkle Stan?” Mabel tapped his arm, but nothing. “GRUNKLE STAAAAAAN!” She yelled, making Ford and Dipper flinch.

Stan only snored again in response. The weight of his body seemed to increase the more he was asleep, causing Ford to put him down gently on the grass.

“Is he okay?” Dipper asked with concern, Ford’s puzzled expression not making it better.

“I don’t know...but I think-” He yawned, then froze once he did. Oh no…

“Grunkle Ford? Are you sleepy, to??” Mabel looked up at him, almost mirroring Dipper’s expression.

“No no, I’m fine…” He could feel himself slowly sit down, then shift into laying on his side. He heard the twins calling his name, but his vision blurred, slowly drifting into a sleep.

“Now what do we do??” Dipper asked his sister, his foot tapping anxiously.

There was no response, just a light thud.

“Mabel?” He turned, only to find his sister asleep on the ground. “Mabel!!” His body started to sway, his legs wobbling. “No no! I can’t fall asleep—! I gotta get help! I gotta…” Before he knew it, he was already laying down as he struggled to keep his eyes open...but it was too late.

The wind rustled the leaves, clouds covering the sun rather quickly. The heat of the summer afternoon was quickly overrun by a rather chilly breeze that swept past the four sleeping figures. But once it settled, everything in the forest went quiet—all except for the faint sound of a monster’s snoring...

(First chapter for Summer Forever! More coming soon!)

[fallen-gravity]

Safety in Numbers

A surprise gift fic for @artsymeeshee, because the art she recently posted of the Stan Twins cuddling warmed my heart and apparently inspired me to write..uh...almost five thousands words.

Don’t you dare tag this as a ship.

Summary:  Every great thing that ever happens to you is usually followed by something much, much worse.

You save the world from the apocalypse, you're convinced that you've lost everything and everyone you've ever loved.

You gain your memories back, you have nightmares so vivid that they fuck with your sense of fantasy versus reality.

It's a lose-lose, if you ask Stan.

AO3

Stan awakens to an alarm clock he doesn’t remember setting. Groaning, he sits up, eyes not quite open yet, and his back makes an ugly popping sound he knows he’s going to feel as soon as his body is fully awake. He blinks his eyes open slowly, and takes a few moments to re-familiarize himself with his twin brother’s old study room. He turns, to check the time and stop that infernal beeping sound, but his neck is so stiff that it makes him want to blow chunks. That’s what he gets for sleeping on a couch, he supposes, but he’s certainly slept on worse, and even if Ford did have a bed somewhere in the mess of a shack he chose to call home, Stan certainly didn’t deserve it, because people who are probably responsible for the death of their family don’t deserve nice things.

Grunting, he swings his legs off the couch, and stands so he doesn’t have to bend his neck in any more weird directions just to turn the alarm off. Its obnoxiously bright red letters blink 5:31am, and Stan scrubs a hand down his face as he punches the clock’s OFF button with the other. 

That’s right. The only reason he set the damn alarm in the first place is because a stubborn customer who couldn’t speak a lick of English refused to leave the gift shop until she found the perfect gift for her little kiddo back home despite the Shack having closed nearly half an hour prior. It’s the only time in his life he’s ever been grateful for the year he was trapped in Colombia, because he’s sure if he wasn’t able to heckle with her in Spanish her into leaving with one of everything, he has a feeling she’d still be wandering back and forth across the shop. Stan laughs to himself at the thought, and makes a mental note to make that sort of thing an attraction someday if he ever gets a customer as stubborn as she is again.

But no, that’s not what matters right now. He bends over to pick up a hairbrush that’d been carelessly tossed to the floor the night prior and runs it through his soft brown hair that he promises he’s going to get cut as soon as he has the time and money, and as soon as his hair manageable enough to brush through it without snagging on any tough knots, he carelessly tosses the brush over his shoulder and heads out of the room, navigating himself around the place with a flashlight. He’s aware that it’d make things much easier to just turn the lights on, but keeping the gift shop lights on all weekend is already burning a hole in his wallet, and he’s not sure he could afford the electricity bill if he left the lights in the study room on by mistake for even ten extra minutes.

When he reaches the staircase leading to the basement, he flicks the flashlight off and sets it down on the counter by the cash register. It’s much easier to navigate down the winding steps with both of his hands free in case he falls and needs to catch himself, and the faint blue hum of the portal is enough of a light source to show him the way to the basement anyway. He sits down at the desk, adjusts the framed photo of himself and Ford at boxing practice in high school, and pulls Journal 1 out from the hidden shelf in front of the monitor. He’d spent all of last week desperately looking for 2 and 3, but the harsh winter snowfall had cut his search short and he didn’t want to waste any more time when he could just try to get the damned thing working without them.

“C’mon, Poindexter, y’gotta give me something to work with,” he mumbles, opening the desk drawer and pulling out a pad of paper and a pen. “I spent weeks memorizing all of your fancy shmancy ciphers. That’s more than I ever studied in high school. You can’t ramble on for two whole pages about how to crack them and then switch to this…” he squints at the squiggles scattered across the portal’s blueprints. “...Cooky alien language, or whatever. This is real life we’re talkin’ here. This is your life we’re talkin’ here. It’d be a lot easier if you didn’t write this thing in Klingon, or whatever” 

Stan knows, at the back of his mind, that talking to the journal like it’s Ford himself isn’t going to get him anywhere, but in a weird kind of way, it makes him feel less alone. Helps a guy out from feeling too lonely, y’know? 

He chuckles to himself at his own joke, taking comfort in the fact that if Ford were here he’d probably be rambling off about how Klingon is one of thousands of different intergalactic languages and how he obviously wrote it in Hqjolvk, thank you very much, and Stan can’t help but roll his eyes fondly as he flips through his notepad. He’s tried everything, he’s tried translating them to whichever letter in the English alphabet they just happen to look closest to, he’s tried throwing sentences in gibberish into three different ciphers at once to see if he could get anything even relatively close to whatever it is, and even when he “bought” a book at the store on ancient hieroglyphics and ancient symbolism the closest thing he got was just a bunch of dumb numbers.  And even then, translating all of those dumb numbers back to English from a1z26 just hit him against another dumb wall. 

Frustrated, he throws the pad of paper against the desk and kicks off from its edge, sending his swivel chair flying backwards across the room. When the chair finally stops rolling, his gaze fixes on the portal through the window in front of the desk he’d just been sitting at, and it’s really only now that he’s looking at it from this distance, from this angle, that he notices….the same weird squiggles from the journal carved all over the circular ring in the center of the portal. 

But...if the weird squiggles in the journal came from the portal, and translating those numbers from the Egyptian book through a1z26 just gave him gibberish...could...could it be that easy? Could it be-?

“Coordinates!” Stan yells, jumping to his feet, and tears build in his eyes at the epiphany. “Sweet Moses, they’re coordinates! How could it’ve been so obvious?” he cries, and nearly trips over himself in excitement as he scrambles back over to the monitor,  and his hands are shaking as he flips through his notepad. Once he finds the page he’s looking for, he forces his hands steady as he enters the number into the keypad. 

The tiny, logical voice in the very back of his mind is screaming at him that it’s never going to work, he only has a third of what he needs, he really shouldn’t get his hopes up, but the slamming of his heart against his chest drowns that sound out as he frantically enters and re-enters the numbers when he’s sure he accidentally entered the wrong ones (damn his chubby fingers), and when he’s finally, finally certain he’s gotten them all entered correctly, he presses the dark red SEND button, takes a few steps backwards, and waits. 

For what couldn’t be longer than two minutes but feels like six hours, there’s nothing. Stan’s about to sigh, call it a good stopping point for the day and kick himself for getting his hopes up too high, but then a flash of blue lightning sparks from the portal and strikes the ground.

“HA!” Stan exclaims, pumping his fists in the air. “I knew it! I knew it! Nothing can stop Stan Pines!” 

He sprints into the portal room, pausing only briefly to grab the toolbox on his way in. Two more bolts of lightning strike against the ground with a loud pop as he enters, and the grin spread across Stan’s face rivals them in brightness. Kneeling down in front of the lever, Stan opens his toolbox and pulls out his lucky red screwdriver that’s gotten him out of his fair share of car trunks, and goes to work on fixing up loose bolts and that awful crunching sound the lever kept making the last time he tried turning it on. 

Three bolts emerge from the portal, and Stan is too ecstatic to notice their uncomfortably close proximity to his head. He stands, once he’s absolutely certain he’s got the lever all fixed, and puts everything he has into shoving the lever from its off position to the on position. 

He can hear the gears turning in the machine, and his heart is pounding so hard against his chest it makes his ears ring. He’s tearing up again, but he doesn’t care, just as long as he gets to punch Ford in the shoulder and tell him off to never scare him like that again when he emerges in the next couple of minutes. The circular ring in the center of the portal begins to spin, slowly, and those weird symbols carved along it start to glow blue. 

Stan nearly drops to his knees, but no, he can’t let Ford see him at rock bottom, and maybe that’s a little selfish, considering all of the places Ford’s probably been the past two years, but the last thing he needs Ford to see is how much he’s been killing himself working to get him back. The ring spins faster, and faster, and where there was once a hole in the center of the portal that leads only to the back wall of the room, there’s now a blindingly bright flash of blue light, and Stan is knocked to the ground by the kickback. 

He goes to stand again, but the sound of shattering glass turns his attention elsewhere. He looks behind him, and the lightbulbs in the other room are exploding like it’s nobody’s business. He’s lucky his hearing was heightened from the ten years on the street, because he’s just quick enough to hear the cracking of the bulb right above his head that he’s able to dodge out of the way of the shattered glass as it rains down towards him. He jumps to his feet, brushing his clothes off, but he’s horrified to see that the portal’s ring is beginning to slow to a stop with no twin brother in sight.

“No!” he cries, and sprints back into the other room to reenter the coordinates into the monitor. But it’s just his luck, because the monitor’s glass is shattered to pieces as well, and there’s a thin line of black smoke rising from it. “No, no no no! I was so close!” he shouts, and sprints back into the portal room. He switches the lever from on to off and back to on again, but nothing changes. 

When the ring comes to a complete stop, the bright blue light fades away, an ugly kind of rage boils in the pit of Stan’s stomach. “This is all your fault, you dumb machine!” he yells, and launches at the portal like it was a thug trying to rob him of his wallet, and starts punching it like there’s no tomorrow, like if he gave it enough left hooks it’ll obey him and spit Stanford right out to his side. 

He’s about to go in for another punch when he hears the sound of the machine’s gears turning again. He grins, rubbing his hands together, and steps backwards to watch the process in its completion. Four bolts spark from the portal this time, but rather than strike the ground, they lunge for him, and Stan screams in agony as they jolt through his whole body. He takes it as a sign that he’s probably better off watching the process from the desk in the other room, but when he tries to turn heel and run, five bolts of lightning reach out and snake around his leg before he can take another step further, and he collapses to the ground. Gritting his teeth to avoid letting out a choked cry of pain, Stan tries to inch himself towards the lever for support to stand up, but it’s as if the damned lightning  has the power to read his thoughts, because it shocks the lever with such a thick bolt of lightning that it fries the thing black.

The charge from the lightning gives the lever just the right amount of static charge it needs to reactivate properly, and Stan doesn’t notice the hum of the portal’s gears getting louder and louder until he finds himself floating off the ground. “W-whoa, hey! Hey! Hold on a minute!” Stan scrambles around at nothing in particular, hoping his feet or arms will snag on something and prevent him from getting pulled in. “Let’s talk this over! We can work together!” He must be losing his damn mind if he thinks bargaining with the portal like it’s sentient is going to do anything, but it’s the only option he’s got left. “I just want my brother back! You want to stay on, yeah? You don’t like getting turned on and off at random, right? I’ll-I’ll keep you on! As long as it takes for my brother to find his way home, I’ll keep you turned on! I promise!”

The machine, of course, does not respond, and the higher Stan gets off the ground the blurrier his vision gets. Damn fear of heights. He flaps his arms around as if he could fly, but nothing seems to work. He starts kicking, as well, to see if swimming towards the ground could work any better, but he still doesn’t budge. 

But that does give him the idea of kicking off of the portal itself, since it’s the only solid thing left, save for the ceiling, and Stan curls himself up into a ball to try and get himself to flip over. It works, thankfully, but when he turns his glance back towards the portal his heart drops to his stomach. Curling himself up had helped his body change directions, yes, but it also changed his course entirely. Rather than being sucked towards the edge of the portal’s entrance, like he’d been when he was hovering above the lever, he’s now heading right for the center of the portal with nowhere to kick off of. 

“N-No! No!” He shouts frantically, kicking his leg away from the cold blue substance the portal emitted. When he spares another glance backwards, his feet are already sucked inside, and the rest of him is quickly following. “No! Somebody help! Somebody!” he shouts, his own words painfully echoing those of Ford’s when he’d been in the same situation.

Ford,

If the portal manages to stay active after he gets sucked in, Ford’s gonna be able to find his way home, but he’ll be all alone, left to wonder what could’ve happened to him. Vaguely, Stan remembers Ford had been saying something about shutting it down for good, and his panicked flailing at the thought that he may be the one never coming again only makes his descent into the portal quicken. “Stanford!” he shouts, in the odds that his brother can hear his cries from the other side of the portal. “Stanford, do something! Stanford!” 

The blue substance within the portal is thick and flavorless as his head is sucked in. He closes his mouth, because he doesn’t want to risk suffocating on whatever the hell this stuff is made of, and closes his eyes for impact for the same horrors that swallowed up his brother just two years prior, and…

…

…

…

…

…

When he forces his eyes open again, he’s lying on a bed. An actual, decently sized bed with fluffy blankets and at least three pillows supporting his head and neck. He’s not sure he’s slept on one of those in….what, thirteen years, give or take, if he’s not including the bug-infested hotels? 

All of his burns from the lightning strikes have seemingly vanished into thin air, along with that gnawing hunger that never seemed to leave his stomach even when he had the time to eat more than a single meal a day, and though the air feels cool, it doesn’t feel humid and stuffy like Ford’s old lab had felt moments ago. 

The rest of his aches are gone, too, he realizes as he sits up, replaced now by a dull pain in his hips and knees that he supposes he could credit to getting sucked into a portal and falling thirty feet to the ground to...uh, wherever he is now. 

Is this where Ford’s been stuck all this time? It’s no wonder he never tried to find his way back on his own, because all things considered, this place is actually pretty comfortable. Maybe he wound up on a friendly alien planet, and some locals rushed him to the hospital to get him fixed up. But there’s no calamity outside his door like there usually is in most hospitals back on Earth, and there’s no weird tubes attached to either of his arms and not a sight of ace bandages anywhere on his body. And...is he…swaying back and forth? 

Stan glances down at his hands, and the rest of his body still wrapped in a thick comforter. No, it’s not him, he realizes quickly, it’s the room that’s swaying back and forth. If he squints hard enough, he can make out the foot of his bed gently rocking back and forth. Scratching at his head, he goes to stand up and investigate his surroundings, until he notices a round window next to where he’d just been laying his head, just outside of his current line of sight. He lies back down, and his breath nearly catches in his throat at the sight. 

It’s the biggest cluster of stars he’s ever seen his entire life, and if he looks close enough, he can see streaks of what he can only assume must be the galaxy itself. It certainly looks like the Earth’s skies, and when he looks again he notices the stars are reflecting off of… some kind of body of water? 

Ah, so he’s on a boat. That explains the swaying. There’s a twinge of warm nostalgia in chest at the realization, of the days two scrappy little boys from New Jersey would spend their afternoons working on a sailboat of their own, musing dreamily about the day they’d finally sail away from the dumb town. 

But...no. That couldn’t possibly be right. He got kicked out at seventeen, and Ford is god-knows-where in the universe. This must be some sort of sick joke, or an optical illusion that plays on his greatest dreams, or something. He turns away from the window, covering that half of his face with the blanket, and fully intends to fall asleep so he can bug the boat’s captain in the morning about where the hell he is and how the hell he wound up here in the first place. Just as he’s about to close his eyes, though, he notices a bulky, bright pink book sitting at his bedside table next to the lamp.

Well, he’s got nothing to lose, right? Maybe this thing’ll have some answers. He flicks the lamp on and sits up. The book is called MABEL’S SCRAPBOOK, and the title written in glitter pen in a child’s handwriting. 

He snorts in laughter. Maybe the book belongs to the captain’s daughter, and she left it in here by mistake. Still, it could help to learn more about the family keeping him captive, and it’s not like she’ll know he ever read it, right? He chuckles to himself at the thought, but as soon as he grabs for the book to place it on his lap, the feel and smell of the dried glue and paint on the cover makes him feel dizzy, and his head’s suddenly swirling with so many thoughts that he feels like he’s drowning.

Grunkle Stan, it’s me! It’s me Grunkle Stan!

There has to be something we can do! I know my grunkle’s in there!

This is our first day in Gravity Falls, and this is when you let me take the grappling hook from the gift shop! Dipper thought I’d never use it, but he couldn’t be more wrong. Zing!

Over and over, all at once, the voice of two….wonderful, incredible rascal little nuisance kids keep yelling at him in his head, and he slams the book back down against his nightstand. 

Damn memory relapses. Ford warned him they could happen, since McGucket had experienced a few of them himself before Stan and Ford left Gravity Falls, but Ford never said anything about the nightmares. Yeah, yeah, he could see it as a good thing, extra proof that his mind’s intact and they don’t need to worry that it’ll ever be gone for good, but nothing sucks more than nightmares that are so based in reality that they fuck with your sense of what’s real and what isn’t. 

Stan rubs his eyes, and stands up. He figures it’d be a good idea to step out on deck and get some fresh air. He has no idea what time it is, but maybe if he goes and stares at the stars long enough he’ll eventually feel tired enough to crawl back into bed. He flicks his lamp light back off, and he’s maybe three steps out of his bedroom door before he notices that the light in Ford’s bedroom next to his is still on. 

Stan pinches the bridge of his nose. He wants to be mad at Ford for staying up this late, and any other night he would tell him off and guilt him into sleeping by lying about how his light and excessive scribbling is what woke him up, but tonight he’s actually relieved by his brother’s dangerous sleeping habits, because talking out loud about his relapses and distinguishing real memories from fake ones always seems to widen the gap between his next relapse, and it certainly doesn’t help that tonight’s nightmare was about Ford’s disappearance. He creaks the door open slowly, to avoid activating Ford’s flight-or-magnet-gun-in-your-face response, and his mouth closes just as quickly as he’d opened it to speak. Ford’s desk lamp is on, yes, but his nerdy brother is not, in fact, hunched over with a thousand stacks of paper covering his face like he usually is this time of night.

Oh no. The lamp, it seems, was left on by mistake, because Ford’s curled up in his bed, fast asleep with his face half-buried in the pillow and his glasses tucked away in the drawer of his nightstand that he must’ve forgotten to close.  Rolling his eyes, Stan sneaks into the room as quietly as he can and flicks the light off so he doesn’t have to replace the lightbulb when it subsequently dies out in the morning. 

He turns heel, and he’s set on going back to his original plan of staring up at the sky until he feels tired again, but as he turns to close Ford’s door he gets another close look at his brother’s sleeping form and his chest warms with nostalgia at the sight as another memory, one from his childhood, resurfaces itself tonight. 

When they were kids, Pa was...never the comforting kind of parent. And yeah, while that was pretty obvious in that it was always Ma who helped patch up their skinned knees and splinters from the boardwalk and the occasional bee sting, there were times he’d be...more subtle about it, if that’s even the right word to describe him. If either of them came poking their heads in their parents’ bedroom after a nightmare, asking if they could crawl in bed and sleep with them for the night, Pa would always brush them off and send them back to their own room, giving them some excuse about the shop opening early tomorrow and how he can’t afford to lose any sleep in case someone tries to come in and rob them.

From a young age, Stan and his brother learned that it’d be easier just to stop asking Pa at all, and instead they’d resort to climbing into each other’s bed instead. They shared a bunk bed up until they were about fourteen, and they had this unspoken system going where if the other poked them awake or tried to crawl under their blanket in the middle of the night, they’d have to comply and let them in without asking why because it usually meant they were having bad dreams. Ford learned very early on never to hesitate for Stan, because he knew that if Stan was willing to climb to the top bunk despite his fear of heights that his nightmares must’ve been bad. 

Stan pauses, and wonders if Ford still remembers those times as well as he does. He hesitates, his grip still tight around the doorknob, until he recalls that it had been Ford who had asked him to accompany him to the arctic, and Ford who kept their childhood photo tucked away in the pocket of his trench coat.  

Well, here goes nothing.

Just as quietly as he’d been before, he tiptoes over to Ford’s bedside, and he’s thankful to find that there was still enough room for him to crawl under the covers without squishing Ford uncomfortably against the wall. Slowly, as not to jostle the blankets too much to wake his brother, he flips a corner of the blanket up, crawls underneath, and as soon as his head hits the extra pillow he’s out cold.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If Ford had to complain about anything from his thirty year trip around the multiverse, besides, well...all of it, he’d have to credit the worst of it to his heightened hearing. 

Ages ago, when it’d just been two weeks since he was sucked into the portal, he taught himself to sleep with his eyes open, and he taught his ears to pick up on the tiniest of movements, even the wind blowing the leaves off a tree branch. He couldn’t afford capture, and if that meant he had to sacrifice sleep to assure it wouldn’t happen, then so be it.

He’d lost the habit of sleeping with his eyes open after all the time he spent with Jheselbraum, thank god, but he could never quite get over the habit of listening. Every time something creaked in the Shack, every time Stan or one of the kids awoke in the middle of the night in search of the bathroom, it’d wake him up in a jolt, and it’d always take him longer than necessary to fall back asleep.

The nights on the Stan O’ War II are usually the quietest and most peaceful nights Ford’s ever experienced since his childhood. Though he and Stan always spend their days tracking and hunting monsters, they’re always able to find quiet little seaport towns to dock their boat when they need a place to rest for the night where nobody makes a peep until sunrise. 

That is...until tonight. He’d been awake just a few minutes prior, mapping out the coordinates for the next monster they needed to track down and how long it would take for them to find it, but he finally got to a point where he had been so tired that his handwriting was starting to give up on him and he decided it was probably for the best that he just go to sleep.  Standing to stretch, he places his glasses in the drawer of his nightstand and didn’t bother with the lamp light because he could just replace the bulb in the morning if need be, and practically collapsed face first onto his bed and fell asleep. 

He heard mumbling coming from the thin wall to his brother’s room, and since their departure from Gravity Falls he’s become so used to Stan’s constant presence that it no longer bolts him awake. In a way it’s almost comforting, knowing he’s never alone on the vast sea. He shifts, when he hears his brother’s slippers lightly slapping against the deck, but dismisses that just as quickly.  

He can feel himself dozing back off to real sleep when he hears his own lamp click off and his bedroom door closing. Ah, Stan was probably coming in to check on him but left when he saw that he was already asleep. That’s fine; he did that a lot the week before they left for their trip. He’s used to it. 

What he’s not used to is the blanket getting ripped from his shoulders, and the bed making a dull creaking sound of...something  sitting on it. Baffled, he pops his eye open, ready to reach for his weapon in case some sea creature managed to slip on board and into his bed, but his heart rate eases when he makes out the familiar shape of his brother fast asleep in the other half of his bed.

The sight of it makes Ford want to laugh. 

He can’t believe Stan remembers. 

Closing his eyes, Ford shifts his position ever so slightly, like it’s a maneuver he’s been practicing for ages, and scooches himself closer to Stan without shaking the bed. He snakes an arm around Stanley’s shoulder, whose whole body seems to release itself of tension at the gesture. Unconsciously, Stan shifts himself closer to Ford as well, and snakes his own arm around Ford’s chest, like he, too, had been practicing the maneuver since they were separated all those years ago.

[sunny-flower-girl-01]

Ohana- A Hawaii Five-0 Fanfic Chapter Three

Here ya go! Please please let me know what you guys think! I know this chapter seems kinda slow and boring but I just need to set some stuff up for future chapter. Thank you guys so much! Make sure to check it out on my other pages! I also have some SVU Stories up on my Ao3. I’m not sure when I’ll get around to adding more to that ‘verse but maybe you guys will have some ideas!

4 Weeks Later:

Thea’s Apartment:

Thea’s POV~

I rolled over as much as I could to turn my alarm off when it went off at 7:00 AM. With my growing stomach, it wasn’t as easy as it used to be. When I rolled back onto my side I noticed a big lump under the covers laying at the opposite end of the bed. I smiled and scooted myself closer.

“Hmmm… Well since no one is in bed with me this morning,” I moved closer to the lump that was now failing to hold in a giggle. “I guess I can just stretch out then.” I slowly moved my hands under the covers. When my hands were close enough I quickly wrapped them around her arms, pulling her close to me. I tickled her under her arms causing her to wiggle around and try to escape from my arms. “Gotcha!”

Nora giggled, trying to push my hands away. I knew she was trying to be careful with her movements since her feet were now curled up near my stomach. “Mama stop! It tickles!”

I smiled and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her to lay with me. “Good morning baby.” I kissed the top of her head. “Did you sleep well?” I asked her. I let my hands run through her tangled hair. I tried to spend some time with her every morning since we were at work and school all day. By the time we get home, she's on her homework, I’m trying to get dinner and laundry together, and next thing I know it’s time for her to go to bed. And those are the days I don’t feel terrible and I’m still in bed when she joins me.

Nora nodded and snuggled into me, moving her face down to my stomach. She, along with just about everyone else, was obsessed with it. My bump was growing more everyday. The doctor told me at my last appointment that since I was having twins, I could expect it to grow faster than if I was having a single birth. “Good morning babies.” She mumbled. “Mama? When are we going to find out if I’m having a brother or sister?” She asked.

I continued to run my fingers through her hair. “We should know here in a couple of weeks. I’m 16 weeks right now and the doctor said I would find out at 20 weeks. Do you know how many more weeks that is?” I asked her.

I watched her think about it for a moment before she nodded, looking up at me. “That’s 4 weeks!” She smiled. I smiled back and nodded.

“Good job!” I looked over to glance at the clock. “We need to get a move on so we're not late.” I kissed her forehead and moved the covers off of us. “Go get dressed and brush your teeth. I’ll braid your hair while you’re eating.” I slowly get up from the bed. Even though I wasn’t as big as I was clearly going to get, it was still a struggle to move like I use to. Nora sat up in the bed and watched me. “I’m fine sweetie. Go get ready for school.” I said softly and sent her on her way. She smiled at me before dashing to her bedroom down the hall. Last week she saw me almost slip and fall while walking up the steps to my apartment. I was about to catch myself on the rails but I know it still scared her. That got me thinking again about how we needed to move before the babies got here. Not just for the trip up but also because this is only a two bedroom. I sighed thinking about how much money that was going to cost. We were just getting by as it is. If i didn’t have Steve helping with the cost of the babies, I don’t know what I’d do. I’m going to have to seriously consider taking Nora out of Sacred Heart if I want to move us to a better apartment or even think about trying to buy a home.

I shook my head and walked to the bathroom to get ready for the day. This was all something I could sit down and think about tonight after Nora goes to bed. I quickly brush my teeth and apply my makeup. I felt great today despite what was going to happen before I could even head into my office. There was a body of a young teenage boy that turned up late last night. Mindy thinks he’s from the center so she asked me if I could come down and identify him. I was praying it wasn’t one of my boys. I left my hair down and a little messy, I’ll just throw it up in a bun when I get in the car.

Walking back into my room I was Nora sitting on my bed, hair brush and ponytail holder in hand, like always. I went to pull my dress and jacket out of my closet. “Go to the kitchen and make yourself some cereal. When I get done getting dressed I’ll come do your hair.” I told her. She nodded and skipped out of the room. How I was blessed that she’s a morning child, I will never know.

I quickly put my black dress on. In the last few weeks, dresses have been much more comfortable than pants. I looked in my closet and went through the 2 rows of shoes that I have. I couldn’t wear sandals, they’ll make my feet swell by the end of the day. I refused to wear heels unless it was a special occasion. I went with my red converse, they were comfortable and would dress down the black dress just enough to where I wasn’t over dressed. I grabbed my jacket and gave myself one last look in the mirror behind my bedroom door. If I felt great today, I was going to look it too. I didn’t know how many more days of being ready to get up and go I am going to get so I want to make the best of it.

I quickly get Nora’s hair braided and put her bowl in the dishwasher while she gets her shoes on. I really need to go shopping, living off of cereal and quick ready-to-bake meals was getting old.

After Nora was ready to go, we went down to the car hand in hand. I knew she was walking slow just for me.

At Sacred Heart:

Luckily today the car drop off line wasn’t too hectic. Nora quickly found Grace and they ran up the steps and into the building hand in hand. I saw Rachel in her car and she pointed for me to pull into the parking lot.

“Hey. How are you feeling today?” She asked as we both got out of our cars, me taking a bit longer than she did.

“Oh, I’m feeling great today. I’m not sure how long it will last though.” I laughed softly. “Are we still on for lunch today? Mindy is going to join us.”

We chatted for a few minutes and updated each other on our schedules. For my entire pregnancy so far our schedules have been synced to help each other out. She picks Nora up from school most days and keeps her until I can get off work. On days that Grace and Nora have dance and music at the youth center, I pick them up and keep them until Rachel comes to get Grace at my apartment.

“Danny is still planning on taking the girls after the recital next week. His whole team is planning on attending. How are things with you and the Commander?” She asked, giving me a look.

I rolled my eyes. “Nothing is happening. He checks in on me every day and asks if me or Nora need anything. I haven't seen much of him since our last doctors appointment. He and Danny picked Grace up from school one day, I talked to him very briefly but had to go inside to meet someone in the office. I swear, nothing is going on.” I told her. She seemed to have this idea that Steve and I were going to get together because I had gotten pregnant. She and Mindy both swore we had feelings for one another. Okay, yes, I liked Steve. He was attractive, he was smart, that one night we spent together was absolute heaven, but I knew he didn’t feel the same way so I wasn’t going to dwell on it until I heard it from him directly.

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Oh please. We all see the way he looks at you, Theodora.” Now I was rolling my eyes.

“You’re one to talk.” I raised an eyebrow at her. I knew her and Stan were hanging on by a thread. Rachel admitted to me last week when I came by to get Nora the same time Danny was picking up Grace that her and Stan weren’t doing so well and that divorce was officially on the table for them. Stan was arguing with her all the time and was never home, and when he was, he would find ways to get out of doing things as a family.

“At least I’ve admitted my feelings for my ex-husband. You’re still in denial.” She said. She was smiling at me but then gave me a serious look. “Were you meeting with the financial advisor again? Thea, I told you if you needed help with-”

I cut her off by putting my hand on her shoulder. “Rachel, I told you, I will figure it out. I don’t want to take her out of Sacred Heart, but I make too much to qualify for a full scholarship. I’m working out a plan with administration now so hopefully I’ll have figured out by the end of the week what I’m going to do.” I said, running my hand over my bump.

Rachel sighed and nodded. I knew she wasn’t going to give up though. “Alright. Well I will see you at lunch. I’m sure you have to get going.” We said goodbye and got back into our cars and waved again as we both drove our separate ways.

At the Medical Examiner’s Office:

I sighed in frustration since I wouldn’t find a hair tie in my car.

‘Damn pregnancy brain’

I slowly got out of the car and threw my purse strap over my shoulder. I noticed Danny’s Camaro parked a few cars down from me. ’I wonder what they’re doing here. They probably have a case’ I thought to myself. They are cops, this wouldn’t be such an unusual place to find them.

I walked in and went straight for Mindy’s office. I set my bag down on the chair in front of her desk and made my way towards Max’s office and lab. Mindy was coming from the opposite side and met me in the hallway. She opened her mouth to say something but before she could, Steve and Danny came around the corner. They stopped their little argument they were in the middle of when they noticed me and Mindy stopped in front of the door. Steve smiled at me. I raised my hand to stop him and Mindy before they could say anything.

“Before you ask, I’m doing fine this morning. No morning sickness, I got 8 hours of sleep, and yes, I took my vitamins.”

Mindy crossed her arms. “I was going to ask how Nora was, but good to know.”

I rolled my eyes. “Nora is fine, thanks for asking.”

Steve looked at me. I could tell he wasn’t able to keep the small smile he had off his face. “Mindy says you might be able to help us with our case.”

I looked in Mindy confused, then back at Steve. “I can?”

Danny nodded. “Yeah, she said you might know our victim. We don’t have any ID on the kid and Dr. Shaw thinks you might know him from the youth center you work at.”

“If you know him we were hoping you could help us find out who he hung out with, what he was doing last night.” Steve said with his arms crossed. He looked very intimidating when he was in ‘Five-0 Mode’.

Mindy placed her hand on my arm and gently pulled me in the direction of the lab. “Come on, I know you don’t wanna be here long.”

When we talked into the lab, my hand went over my mouth and nose quickly. I felt someone run into me from behind but before I could fall on my face for the second time in a week, two arms reached out to steady me.

“Woah, are you okay?” Steve asked. He had his hands on my biceps and I could feel his chest pressed up against my back.

‘God that feels amazing’

I nodded. “Jesus Christ, what is that smell?” It smelt like someone had left open cleaning containers in here overnight and didn’t air the place out. The smell was so strong it quickly started to make me nauseous. Mindy went over to the counter and turned the fan on. I shook my head a little and started walking closer to the table. A white sheet was covering the body. Steve stayed close behind me, I could still feel the heat from his body against my back.

Mindy walked around the table to be on the opposite side as us. “Are you ready?” She asked.

I nodded and held my breath. Mostly because the smell was even worse the closer to the table and body that I got. Mindy lifted the sheet back and I backed up slightly from the swoosh of air that the movement of the sheet caused. Steve's hand went up to my back.

“Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah. That’s Ty Flinchum. He’s one of the residents at the Center.” I said softly. I just saw this kid yesterday morning. He came into my office to talk about how he found a small part time job at a local grocery store. He was so excited to start. “How’d he die?” I asked quietly, my eyes never leaving the younger boy’s face.

“His body was found on the beach this morning. It’s the 3rd one in a month. Max determined COD was drowning.” Mindy said, covering Ty back up. My head shot up to her as soon as she said drowning.

“Ty couldn’t swim. He wouldn’t go anywhere near the water.”

Steve nodded. “There were signs of a struggle. We already have a few leads.” His hand went up to squeeze my arm gently. “We’ll find who did this.” I patted his hand and gave it a squeeze back. I nodded as I started towards the door and walked out into Max’s office. Mindy followed me.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

“Yeah, just still feeling a little nauseous from that smell.” I leaned up against the front of the desk. Mindy came and sat next to me.

“Well I guess we’ll just sit here until you feel better.” She said, causing us both to laugh softly. I leaned my head down on her shoulder.

“Oh no, girl bonding. We gotta get out of here Steve.” We heard Danny say.

Steve grinned and looked over at me as Danny dragged  him out of the office. “I’ll call you later okay?”

Later at Home with Thea and Nora-

I sighed, and put the last of the pantry food away. “Nora Jane!” I called down the hallway. “Last time I’m going to tell you it’s time to get out of the tub!” I went back to quickly get the cold food in the refrigerator after I heard an “Okay mama” come from the hallway.

At lunch today I had a long talk with Mindy and Rachel about how I was going to balance work, Nora, and these two babies. They both had agreed to help out with Nora as much as they could since I was going to have to start working more to afford a new place, Nora’s school, and just the general cost of the babies. And I’m not even thinking about the time I’m going to have to take off from work once they’re actually here. They both cornered me about helping pay for Nora’s school tuition. I finally caved and said I would think about it, but I wasn't comfortable accepting something like that from anyone. It’s been just me and Nora her whole life. I’ve been her primary provider since day one. Letting someone in to help like that isn’t easy for me. But at this point, I don’t think I will have much of a choice.

When I was done putting the rest of the groceries away, I got to work at making an easy meal for Nora for dinner. I wasn’t too hungry at the moment so it was just going to be fast. Nora came into the kitchen, her hair wet and in her Lilo & Stitch PJs. She climbed up into one of the bar chairs and watched me put her chicken nuggets in the oven. “How does mac and cheese and green beans sound baby?”

She nodded and gave me a ran down of her day while I got her food together. “Grace told me her Uncle Steve is teaching her how to surf so maybe we can go surfing together some time!”

I nodded, putting her plate of food in front of her. “Yeah, I think that would be really fun for you girls. Maybe when we have some weekend time free we can go.” I said. I had Nora surfing with me since she could stand on the board. I thought it was really sweet that Steve was teaching Grace how to surf. I had heard from him and Rachel both that Danny hated the beach.

While I was cleaning up the dishes there was a knock at the door. I told Nora to keep eating her dinner when she started to get down from the chair to race to the door. She pouted and got back in her seat.

I was shocked to see Steve standing in my doorway. I opened the door wider. “Oh, Hey.” I smiled. “Uhm, what are you doing here?”

He smiled and shifted on his feet. Again, a Navy SEAL and a cop and he still gets nervous. “I was in the neighborhood with Danny following a lead and wanted to check in with you. Wanted to see if you guys needed anything.”

My heart could stop right now. “Thank you-” “Steve!” Nora screaming interrupted me. She came barreling from behind me and launched herself into Steve's arms. My arms immediately went out to catch her incase Steve didn’t. He barely budged from his place when he caught her midair. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a big hug. She was very fond of the man, not that I can blame her. I’m pretty fond of him too.

He laughed and hugged her back. “Hi Nora. How are you?”

Nora leaned back to face him. “I’m good. Mama said that Grace and I can go surfing soon since you taught her how to.” She said matter-of-factly. I crossed my arms and leaned up against the door frame and watched them talk about surfing. Steve told her that he will take her out soon since I wasn’t able to go right now. It warmed my heart to see how he interacted with her.

‘He’s going to be a really good dad’

I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry Nora, but it’s time to brush your teeth and get into bed.” She pouted as Steve set her down. He ran his hand over her wet hair.

“I’ll see you soon okay? Goodnight Nora.” He smiled at her.

“Goodnight Steve!” She waved and bounced her way down the hall. I giggled at her excitement and knew she was going to be a nightmare to put down now that she was all riled up, but I wasn’t mad. I turned to look at Steve.

“So I wanted to come check on you, but I also wanted to know if you were free Friday night. The team is coming over to cookout at my place, Danny is bringing Grace, and Mindy and Max are coming so I wanted to invite you and Nora.” He said, running his hand over the back of his neck like a nervous teenager, which I couldn’t help but grin at. “My other team members are begging to meet you. But I understand if you’re busy-”

“I would love to. We’ll be there. Do I need to bring anything?”

Steve shook his head. “No, just you and Nora. Maybe a swimsuit, I have a private beach in my backyard.”

My eyes widened. “Wow, if you weren’t Nora’s favorite person before, you definitely will be when she sees that.” I laughed. That got a loud laugh out of Steve too. I could also see his cheeks getting a little red.

‘You’re not just Nora’s favorite person’

[404-not-found-xix]

Head-cannon List

Includes:

Host Elliot Alderson, Mastermind, Mr. Robot, Darlene Alderson, Tyrell Wellick, and Joanna Wellick

Mastermind/Host Elliot Alderson:

- Elliot was and still is a fan of 90′s experimental electronic music. He enjoys artists like: Tangerine Dream, Aphex Twin, and The Field.

- If he had a favorite artist, it would be the video artist Nam June Paik. He’s a pioneer of video art, blending ideas about identity, culture, technology, and  communication together. There’s some other video artists out there he really love, but he has a soft spot for Paik. When he was a kid and stumbled into an art museum, he was blown away. He never thought about combining technology and art in that way. It stuck with him.

- He also enjoys Bruce Nauman. His work explores the idea of human performance in American society. 

- Tron and Blade Runner are some of his favorite childhood movies. Blockbuster was one of their favorites stores to go to as kids.

- He’s not a fan of gory movies unless they’re so fake it’s cheesy. 

- He really doesn’t enjoy being scared. He would yell at Darlene when she would try and spook him as a kid. It messed with his DID symptoms.

- When his DID was first expression itself, it was very emotionally disruptive for him. Sometimes he would teeter between emotional repression, dissociation, and a mental break down. Host Elliot Alderson would try and keep these emotions private- hidden away from his sister and mother.

- Host was very fearful of his own emotions. And afraid it would make Darlene upset, the one person he truly, truly cared about. He wanted to protect her from himself.

- Host decides to tell Darlene about his sexual abuse once he is an adult. This all happens after S4 as he starts to unpack everything that happened last year. Krista is crucial in this process, as he begins to work with and talk to his alters in the same room.

- Host still has social anxiety/issues after S4, but slowly he learns to make peace with his/alters actions and forgive them. He eventually becomes the quiet social introvert he was meant to be and becomes happy with his life.

- Host likes Macs. The alters poke fun at him and give him shit sometimes for it but stands firm. “The layout is streamlined and easy to use”. Mastermind and Mr. Robot both roll their eyes. They’re hardcore Linux stans.

- All the Alters are still around, but they co-exist with the host. They’re there if he calls upon them, or they sit around if they think Host needs it. Sometimes they like to pop out and hang out, have a cup of imaginary coffee or cigarette. They keep eachother company. 

- Alters don’t take over Hosts body out of respect and their love for him. They are guardians for the person they hold precious.

Darlene Alderson:

- Was a rebellious party grunge girl in high school. She battled between wanting to be a normal, happy girl, and wanting an escape from her troubled home. Going at a night became an easy way to do this. She went on late night drives, smoking pot out in the woods, and doing shrooms once in a while. She has taken adderall to stay awake at school. It worked for a while, she was messed up during messed up times. It doesn’t make her a messed up person.

- She didn’t try cocaine until almost the end of high school. 

- She actually has a soft spot for plushies but doesn’t normally buy them. But boy are they cute!

- Prefers gummy bears with her fro-yo. Usually adds waffle cone pieces to her mix.

- She is a loyal buyer of camel Turkish gold cigarettes. Menthol’s during the summer.

- A fan of Daft Punk, but has since moved on with EDM scene to keep up with the times. Her brother? Totally out of sync. He’s too rebellious to want to like current music. He’d rather stick to lesser-known, more eccentric music. 

- Secretly had feelings for Angela Moss as a kid. She kept it to herself because her friendship for her and her bother meant the world to her. She didn’t want to let that go, especially since they’ve been friends since childhood. She knew she would find love elsewhere later on in life.

- Darlene hasn’t dated a girl before, but she wants too. Her flings never stuck, and sometimes, it’s easier to catch tail from a guy than it is a girl. There’s more straight men out there, it’s easy pickin’.

- She wishes she’d get married to a women. She wants to continue growing this side of herself. And, women are beautiful, sweet, and incredible people. And, they get each other. They know what it’s like being a queer women in a gross heteronormative cisgender world !

- Is very bisexual. She doesn’t really care what’s in your pants, she cares about the heart of the person and if she’s attracted to them.

- Supports Host’s “Pro-Mac” stance. Iphones are better to hack with, they’re faster than an Android. But she uses a non-Mac laptop for hacking. She prefers a customized step-up. 

Tyrell Wellick (if still alive):

- Has bipolar disorder that hasn’t been clinically diagnosed. Throughout the show he expresses major mood swings, decreased need for sleep, increased self-esteem/grandiosity, increased goal-activity, agitation, and engages in self destructive behavior. Bipolar disorder often has a manic/depressive swing to the person’s behavior, but not all people exhibit depressive episodes. Tyrell has this, and clearly isn’t on any medication either. The man was so hyper focused on being the next CTO, he thought this was fine. It’s apart of the stress, the life, and the consequences of his choices. He’s a business man.

- Wellick just switched from a KDE system to a GNOME.

- He supports whatever Host’s want. He’s still kinda crushed that the Elliot he knew is an alter. But at least he has a second change with this ‘Host’ Elliot. He seems a lot calmer and is happier than the others. For that, he is joyful.

- Is bisexual with an inclination for men. Also, attracted to people who are strong and assert their power. That’s how he and Joanna got along so well.

- Still loves his son very much and is very upset that Joanna’s family has taken his son from him. He’s working on himself and his career, to prove to them he can be a good father and raise him. He’s made a clear shift from prioritizing his work life, to his personal life. 

[karasunology]

YOUR BROTHER HEADCANONS ARE SO UNDERAPPRECIATED, I'M ENRAGED !1! may i request older bro headcanons like the one you dod for oikawa & tobio? but with bokuto & the miya twins? thank you lots. hope tumblr doesn't eat this ask i'll cry

⸙ ˚₊ ➷ THE MIYA TWINS & BOKUTO KOUTARO AS YOUR OLDER BROTHERS ! ❞

╰─ ─ ﾟheadcanons of the best twins & ace of my heart being your older brothers.

✐ . . . BIG BROTHER HEADCANONS.

[ OIKAWA TOORU & KAGEYAMA TOBIO VERSION. ]

-ˏˋ ➶ character(s) ━ bokuto koutaro, miya atsumu & miya osamu <3

[ trigger warnings ━ slight manga spoilers !! ]

-ˏˋ playing soleil's tape ˊˎ-

[ 📼 ] . . . hey bub! omg i have my first anon, thank you so much for loving my older brother headcanons! i love the concept and everything about. and glad that u do too <3 anyways here's your request !

-ˏˋ ✉️ REQUESTS ARE ALWAYS OPEN.

⇣ please read the RULES before requesting.

MIYA TWINS.

➜ oh my goodness, i pray so hard and dearly for your parents because y'all are WILD WILD

➜ when you guys were young, you know those videos of twins confusing their baby on who's their parent??

➜ yeah THESE TWO TRIED IT WITH YOU.

➜ it was probably atsumu's dumb idea

➜ he watched it a few days ago in youtube

➜ so he suggested it to osamu which begrudgingly accepted, curious on how you would react

“ c'mon, come to big brother 'samu ”

➜ atsumu says as he stretches his arms out to you while you're oblivious poor innocent ass was doing the grabby hands to him

➜ ngl you looked so cute he felt a little guilty for what's to come

➜ while osamu sits next to him with a monotonous expression

“ no, i'm big brother 'samu ”

➜ your head spun to his direction

➜ and you're just like 👁👄👁

➜ while switching left and right in confusion as you dropped your arms down so fucking fast LMAO

➜ while atsumu was trying so hard, really he promised he won't laugh so soon, that osamu keeps pestering him to shut his bitch as up

➜ until the faintest of sobs were heard, forcing their mini argument to a halt

“ will you stay quiet ─ ”

“ ─ oh no no no, please don't cry ”

➜ osamu is in distraught because he actually doesn't know how to take care of a child crying

➜ while astumu is trying to carry you

“ hngg i ─ hic ─ want big brother 'samu ─ hic ! ”

➜ bitch almost wanted to drop you right then and there honestly

➜ he's like ??? DOES THIS BITCH EVEN KNOW I EXIST EYE??

➜ and when osamu heard you calling out to him, something in him snapped

“ i knew this was a bad idea ─ ”

➜ as he shoved atsumu off of you, hugging you as he tries to coo you, whispering “ shh . . don't ya worry, yer big brother 'samu is here ”

➜ this MANS OHMYGOD

➜ your cries seemed to have ceased as atsumu is standing there like ??

➜ i'm thEIR BROTHER TOO !!

➜ bb boy held a grudge on you for a few weeks ngl

➜ but then you grew up and now you know that you actually have two (2) big bro 'samu

➜ but more annoying & bitchy

➜ you're their favourite victim to bully

➜ well, atsumu

➜ but they won't let their teasing lead to you crying because they actually can't stand the sight of their younger sibling crying

➜ contrary to popular belief, when you realized there was another big bro 'samu, you were now attached to atsumu while he's similing smugly and triumphly at osamu

➜ atsumu would 100% be very competitive for your attention though he makes you hate him whenever he bullies you

➜ but we all know osamu hates losing

➜ so there was definitely a time of your life that their fighting over who was the best big brother

➜ ugh y'all cute cute

➜ while you're helping osamu around the kitchen, atsumu would just watch from the side lines because the kitchen is kinda yours and osamu's thing

➜ though while in his earlier years, he'd get upset because he wants you to hang out with him too :(

➜ while you have the cooking thing with osamu, you have the baking thing with atsumu

➜ shh hear me out

➜ osamu is actually not good at baking shit

➜ the first time he attempted baking was when you joined a baking club & now you're obsessed with making cupcakes and all that good good

➜ and he wanted to also try and back

➜ and how and what did he do to make your cupcakes look like dog shit was beyond you

➜ and while smelling something burning, atsumu ran to the kitchen and after realizing what osamu did

➜ he'd try and make your next batch of cupcakes presentable

➜ because he's?? actually?? good at it??

➜ and now you guys have your baking sessions and brother 'tsumu bonding time

➜ but even though you guys have other things with the other person, you guys LOVED doing chores together

➜ like, your guys' mom would make the boys clean the bathroom and before you knew it, LIKE YOU WENT THERE JUST TO TALK TO THEM WHILE THEY CLEAN, you find yourself cleaning the toilet necause atsumu ain't doing that shit

➜ washing dishes?? that as well

➜ you and atsumu would be the ones washing while osmu would do the drying

➜ 11/10 of the time would leave you guys a damped mess

➜ while cleaning the kitchen, i absoloutely headcanon, like STRONGLY

➜ that you guys would just talk either about random shit, talk shit about someone honestly, or quote reality tv shows

➜ like one thing you would be sweeping the kitchen floor,  and while sweeping, you accidentally hit the trash bin hard that the contents flew out of it as it fell down the floor

➜ and atsumu's like : “ pooja what is this behaviour?? ”

➜ then something clicked in you that made you remember that one show bigg boss something

➜ and you'd be like : “ i'm sorry i kicked it ny mistake ”

➜ osamu would roll his eyes before joining you two :  “ you can't kick it by mistake ”

➜ “ the  pick it up if it bothers you ”

➜ ugh y'all aRE ICONS

➜ y'all would be at the pool and atsumu would shout “ oh no my diamond earing is gone ”

➜ and osamu would reply “ kim, there's people that are drying. ”

➜ you'll be their biggest fan in the court

➜ whenever they play with you on the sidelines something in them just snapped and they'll be scoring points by points in a row

➜ they lowkey love to show off

➜ if you're a girl, every fangirl of they have would be wary of you at first, but then realized that you were just their little sister

➜ and to their bisexual fans, they would ngl have a huge ass crush on you too

➜ and if you're a boy as well, oH MY GOD WOULD THEY HAVE FALLEN AMD CAN'T GET UP

➜ LIKE BITCH THE MIYA GENES ARE THRIVING IN THE THREE OF YOU

➜ you bet they'd be throwing hands if someone decided to break your heart

➜ though, osamu would be the more rational one

➜ if they ever meet your s/o, atsumu would want to rile them up while osamu is just being calm but the scarier one of the two?? but he knows you don't need any protecting because you know how to do it yourself & you don't have any need for that.

➜ but he will step up if he needed to

➜ 12/10 would recommend as brothers

➜ in conclusion, you guys may not always get along, but you know damn well they care about you and would apologize right away if they did something too far. and you guys are such good sibling goals😤

BOKUTO KOUTARO.

➜ definitely know how to deal with his emo mode

➜ since you guys grew up together

➜ and sadly, you didn't have an akaashi to help you out with it while you were young

➜ like he'd be the older brother but you would probably be the more mature one

➜ but while you guys were young, he was your knight & shinning armor

➜ like when you scraped your knee while trying to catch him, he'll do a 180° and bitch has never ran faster to you than that time

➜ & if you were crying because of it, he'll make stupid jokes but it'll always make you forget about the pain in your knee

➜ and it's one of those times that you could really see that he was actually older than you

➜ then he'll piggyback you back to your house

➜ homeboy be reliable even while he was young wow

➜ and even 'till now

➜ if you ever got sick or injured

➜ or god forbid, HEARBROKEN by someone

➜ a bitch will throw hands

➜ but before that he'll make you laugh & do his best to take your mind off whatever is causing you to hurt

➜ ngl you would always look up to him, even if he may seem childish

➜ he'll hang out with you the rest of the day, he doesn't care if it's a school day, he'll drag akaashi with him

➜ my boy here GIVES THE BEST ADVICES

➜ though he may reword them differently, but his advices never seemed to fail you

➜ fights don't usually happen, and if they do they're probably serious

➜ he's the type of brother that lets you sneak out the house

➜ he'll usually back you up in everything

➜ and this bitch would take the fall for your faults

➜ ugh WE STAN

➜ but also if you sneak out the house to your significant other, bb boy has to know their number, address, occupation etc.

➜ because he ain't having a broken hearted sibling

➜ and he just wants the best for you

➜ and in the future, though he may be busy with being a professional volleyball player;

➜ he'll always have time for you

➜ he'll cLEAR OUT HIS SCHEDULE JUST FOR YOU

➜ you're that urgent to him

➜ your his first best friend before volleyball

➜ speaking of volleyball, if you aren't found in the stands in his matches ─ he'll go TO EMO MODE Y'ALL

➜ because you're usually always there in his games and it makes him give all his 120%

➜ since he's usually busy, he'll ALWAYS have those covey sisters movie nights

➜ if ykyk

➜ he's a sucker for family bonding time ogey

➜ the type to binge watch all the hsm movies & know all the lyrics to all the songs

➜ the type to defend sharpay with all his might

➜ and you guessed it right

➜ sharpay is his favourite character

➜ no one tell me otherwise

➜ THE TYPE TO DUET SONGS WITH YOU

➜ HIS FAVOURITE?

➜ EVERY SHARPAY & RYAN SONGS

➜ HE'LL BE SHARPAY AND YOU'LL BE RYAN

➜ AND THAT'S ON BOP TO THE TOP

➜ hates horror movies

➜ so if you ever watch it with him, he won't leave your side for the rest of the night & will have a sleepover on the living room

➜ f o r t s

➜ loves doing ridiculous challanges

➜ your phone would be BOMBARDED with crackhead videos of him

➜ probably broke a bone or two ngl

➜ 100/10 would recommend as a brother

➜ in conclusion, he may not always be there, and would be a bit childish & needy at times; but you know that he would step up as a big brother for you ANYDAY, ANYNIGHT, ANYTIME. because how could he want the best for you when he's not being his best on his part?

-ˏˋ playing soleil's tape ˊˎ-

[ 📼 ] . . . i'm sorry but i JUST HAD to write this out before anything else. to anyone waiting for their request to be posted some of them will be posted tomorrow, i promise aHhh. anyways check out my other big bro headcanons that i absoloutely love here.

click the link down below !

also, requests are still open; one requests = one more reason to stay sane

[orangeoctopi7]

A-Hiking We Will Go

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 5 : Part 6 :  Part 7 :  Part 8

Despite how eager he’d been to start this trip yesterday, Ford was really dragging his feet getting ready that morning. He took his sweet time loading all their equipment into the back for Fiddleford’s truck, and he insisted on packing sleeping bags and a few cans of food.

“Just in case we end up taking longer than expected inside Crash Site Omega.” He explained when Stan reminded his brother they weren’t planning on camping.

Then he wanted to double check that they had everything they needed, which was uncharacteristic of Stanford. McGucket was the one who liked to triple-check things, Ford was normally much more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants type. 

When they finally got underway, it was after lunchtime. As McGucket drove toward the hill, with Ford giving directions, Stan dug around through their supplies to see if he could find any snacks. 

“I got you a bag of toffee peanuts,” Ford looked up from the compass he was using to navigate, “They should be right beneath your seat.”

“Oh, uh, thanks…” Stan dug the bag out from under his seat. “But, uh, I’ve… kinda lost my appetite for the stuff.” He handed the bag up to Ford.

“Well I don’t want them!” His brother huffed.

“Oh for the love of-- I’ll eat them!” McGucket snapped, swiping the bag from between them. “I swear, you two are worse than my five-year-old!”

What with all the bumpy back roads they had to take, it took nearly an hour before they reached the field they were looking for. Unloading all their equipment and supplies took a while too. 

“Ford, I can’t carry everything.” Stan insisted with a roll of his eyes. 

“You can lift well over a thousand pounds!”

“Yeah, but there’s a huge difference between lifting and carrying. I’ve still gotta balance it all on my back.”

Eventually, they divided up the load a little more evenly. Stan was still carrying the bulk of the weight, but Ford was also carrying as much as he could. McGucket was given the lightest bags, but he was still huffing and puffing by the time they reached the foot of the hill.

“I could use a breather.” The inventor wheezed as he slumped down in the shade of a small aspen tree.

“Hey, no complaints here.” Stan set his own bags down with a resounding thud. 

Ford shook his head, unable to keep the smug smile off his face. “If only the two of you had a rigorous physical regimen like mine. Before either of you came out here, I’d hike out to the falls at least once a week! And here we are, not even half-way to Crash Site Omega, and you’re both already winded! And Stanley, you’re supposed to have super strength!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, why don’t I let you carry all your science crap then, Dr. Strongman!” Stan retorted. “And for the record, I’m not winded. I’m just ready for a little break.”

“I’m winded, and I ain’t ashamed to admit it.” Fiddleford panted.

“Well, take a drink and eat something. You’d be surprised how much that helps. We’re in no rush.” Ford assured his friend.

“Well, I mean, we are in kind of a rush,” Stan pointed out. “If we wanna get back to the truck before dark. It’s already getting to be mid afternoon.”

“Don’t worry, Stan, I brought sleeping bags, just in case.” Ford assured him.

“Just in case, he says.” Stan rolled his eyes. “That’s why you were takin’ your sweet time this morning! You’re just that dead-set on camping!”

“That’s absurd!”

“Would you two give it a rest?” McGucket complained, looking up from a diagram of robotic hiking legs he’d been sketching in the dirt. “I thought ya said y’both were gettin’ along better after I left, but it seems to me like you’re fightin’ as much as before.”

The twins shared a sheepish glance and dropped the argument.

“Truth be told, I wouldn’t mind spendin’ the night out here if’n we can take more breaks and go at a slower pace.” The inventor continued. “I’m as eager to see this crash site as anyone could be, but I’d also like to have the energy to actually explore it once we get there.”

Ford shot Stan a triumphant smirk.

“Yeah, fine.” Stan sighed. “We’ll camp overnight, if that’s what makes you nerds happy.”

The three of them continued at a slower pace from that point on, taking breaks whenever McGucket needed them, which was often. Ford wasn’t bothered at all. Their leisurely walk and frequent stops gave him more opportunities to study the local wildlife. He even managed to spot a plaidypus as it came out to sniff at the remains of Stan’s snack mix. 

* * *

The sun was beginning to cast long shadows by the time they reached the top of the hill. 

“Ah, just as I left it.” Ford said with satisfaction as he rolled a large-ish boulder to the side. Beneath it was a strange metal panel, marked with circuitous symbols neither Stan nor Fiddleford recognized. The researcher aimed one of the magnet guns he had brought with him down at the panel, and it popped out of the ground with a satisfying clang.

McGucket’s knee started bouncing faster than Ford had ever seen it go before, and Stan’s eyes were as wide as when they’d first found the Stan’O’War in that cave by the beach. Stanford couldn’t help but feel a little giddy. Sharing his greatest discovery yet with his brother and his best friend was a true pleasure. 

“Fiddleford, you’ll need a magnet gun to safely navigate the ship, and to disable any security systems that might still be running. Stanley, I’ve only got the two guns, but between your ability to climb up walls and the web shooters, I think you’ll be even more mobile than us.” He handed them their headlamps, magnet gun, and web shooters, and began to climb down the ladder. McGucket followed down after him with an excited grin spreading across his face. Stan came next, slightly more cautious in his approach. He looked up around at how the ceiling of the UFO  gently curved away from him on either side, then down at the ladder, which dropped straight down into what looked like a dark abyss.

NOPE. Stan’s complicated relationship with heights told him.

“Hey, uh, I’m gonna just climb down the wall. See you guys at the bottom.”

“Alright, just try not to get lost.” Ford waved him off.

“You two are the only other source of light down here, I think I’ll be able to find you.”

Stan crawled down the wall, taking in the sights as he went. The aliens’ architecture was unlike anything he’d ever seen. It was all curvy and smooth and shiny like an oil spill. It reminded him of the inside of the big spiral shells that would wash up on the beach sometimes. The metal was smooth as glass; so smooth Stan almost felt like he shouldn’t be able to stick to it, but he did. Long recessed ridges were carved into the walls, making huge symbols like the ones he’d seen on that panel Ford had opened up to let them in here. Stan wondered if the symbols were some kind of language, just for decoration, or if they served some sort of purpose. 

As he continued to climb down the curve of the wall, the pair of lights that were his brother and McGucket grew smaller and smaller as he ventured further away. Luckily, whatever these walls were made of, they were very reflective. The whole place seemed lit up from just a few headlamps.

Eventually, Stan came upon the entrance to a large tunnel. It had to be at least ten feet tall and twice as wide. He was easily able to jump down to the ground from that height without hurting himself. He glanced back to the tiny lights, still several yards up the ladder. He then shone his own headlamp down the long, elliptical hallway, peering into the darkness. 

Part of him wanted to explore the tunnel himself, but it was pretty creepy being on an unknown alien ship by himself. Stan would feel a lot more comfortable exploring the ship with his brother by his side, and not just because Ford had been down here before. It was almost like when they were little kids, and they just naturally stood closer together when they were both nervous.

Stan slowly made his way back toward the bottom of the ladder and the lights, passing several strange control panels and consoles on the way. Those long grooves continued across each wall and through the floor, branching off into more of those circuitous symbols. Down here on ground level the smooth metal surface was broken up by cracks and dents. Stan guessed they had been caused by the crash. Or at least, he hoped they had.

When they met back up, Fiddleford was in absolute awe of the place. He was darting around excitedly, taking in every little detail, running his hands along the circular symbols and trying to figure out the control panels.

“Uh, you sure it’s a good idea to be messin’ with this stuff?” Stan asked apprehensively. “We don’t even know what it does.”

“Relax, this ship crashed millions of years ago. Everything’s defunct.” Ford assured him.

“Have you been able to date it?” Fiddleford asked eagerly.

“Yes! I was actually able to locate a few skeletal remains!” The researcher answered with just as much gusto. “Carbon dating put it at approximately 30 million years old!”

“So the crash would have taken place in the early Oligocene… have you looked up any fossil evidence to back that age up?”

“I was able to correlate it to a few tree rings preserved up by Mount Saint Helens. There’s a spike in rare-earth metals and radioactive isotopes that match the makeup of this ship.”

Stan tuned out the nerd speech and just followed them along as they continued examining the ship and going bananas over every little thing they came across. Not that Stan wasn’t impressed with the crashed UFO. He just didn’t understand most of what the nerds were going on about. So far all he’d seen were weird symbols and oddly smooth metal walls. Now, if they ran into some of those skeletal remains Ford had mentioned, that would be more his speed!

“Hey Ford, there any more dead bodies down here?” 

“A few.” Ford answered casually, as if his brother had just asked if there were any potato chips left. “Either the crew was disproportionately small compared to the size of the ship, or most of them vaporized while entering the atmosphere, but I have run into a couple of alien remains. If we’re lucky, we should find more while we search for the Hyperdrive.”

“And where are we supposed to find that?” Stan asked. “This ship is half the size of the valley!”

“Don’t worry, between Fiddleford’s mechanical know-how and my intuition, we should be able to find it in no time!”

“Uh…” McGucket stammered, “I’m not so sure about that, Ford. This is far beyond the scope of my knowledge. We dunno if these alien fellers follow the same mechanical traditions as Earth!”

“True, but physics is universal. All their machinery still has to follow the same physical laws.” Ford reasoned. “I’m sure you’ll be able to figure it out.”

“I appreciate yer confidence in me, but I wouldn’t even know where to begin! It could take days, no, months for me to map out the configuration well enough to find their main power source!”

“You can do it.” The researcher assured him. “All you need is a little help from a friend.”

With that, Ford sat down on  the floor, cross-legged, and rested a hand on each knee, open palm facing up towards the ceiling, his fingers gently curling as he took a deep breath and relaxed.

“Uh… what are you doing?” Stan asked in confusion. 

“Meditating.” Ford answered, closing his eyes. “Now shhsh!”

The two of them just watched in awkward silence as Ford began muttering to himself. He whispered so quietly, it was clear he was hoping his friends wouldn’t hear him, but it was dead silent inside the wrecked spacecraft, so they did anyway.

“We need to find the hyperdrive. Do you know where it is?”

Stan’s blood ran cold as his twinging spider-sense he had connected to that yellow triangle returned. Oh, not again!

Fiddleford was giving both the twins concerned looks. Sure, it was strange for Stanford to sit down on the floor of an alien spaceship and apparently ask the air where to find the hyperdrive, but Stanley’s eyes widened as if his brother had just set himself on fire. 

After a moment of waiting and listening, Ford nodded, opened his eyes, and stood up.

“...Did that help?” McGucket asked uncertainly. Ford shushed him.

The researcher appeared to be following something only he could see. Stan wanted to kick himself for not bringing those light filtration goggles, but there had already been so much equipment to worry about. All the two of them could do was follow Ford as he ventured down the hall Stan had found earlier. It just went on and on for several minutes, until Ford stopped in front of an alcove. To the untrained eye, it didn’t look any different from the many others they had passed, but Ford pressed his fingers into one of the grooves running along the wall and pulled up, cracking open some sort of door. Stan cautiously stepped forward and helped him open it, despite the way the triangle’s presence was grating on his nerves. Thankfully it seemed that, once they reached their destination, the thing left. Stan couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief when the sensation stopped. 

“This should be the engine room.” Ford said with certainty.

“How… how did you know where to find it!?” McGucket wondered with disbelief.

“Intuition.” Ford answered, as if that actually settled it. “Be sure to step over that security beam.” He pointed to a faint beam of light near the door they had just entered. “If that’s still working, the other security measures may be as well.”

Stan and McGucket shared a concerned glance. Ford didn’t seem willing to elaborate on how he knew all this. True, he had been here before, but he had been as clueless as they were about finding the hyperdrive before. Of course, Stan had his theories.

“Well, let’s get what we came here for.” Stan shrugged, sharing another significant glance with Fiddleford, hoping he got the implied We’ll talk about this later when we’re alone.

McGucket nodded and tried to push his worries to the back of his mind, instead focusing on the once-in-a-lifetime chance to examine alien technology.

* * *

By the time they got the hyperdrive back to the surface, the sun was barely peeking above the horizon and the sound of crickets after the near silence of the UFO was deafening. Despite the eerie moment while locating the engine room, spirits were high. Everyone was happy they’d been able to accomplish their goal with little to no trouble. Ford was obviously pleased that he’d finally been able to share this huge secret with someone, McGucket was absolutely giddy with what he’d learned just from examining the alien technology, and Stan had gotten to mess around with a real alien skeleton. It had been a very successful trip. 

Now Ford was busy clearing a fire pit while McGucket gathered firewood. Stan had his web shooter out and was carefully examining the nearby trees, looking for low-hanging branches. 

“Huh… wonder if I could make a tent out of web…”

“No need, it will be calm and clear tonight.” Ford assured him.

“Forecasts can be wrong, genius.”

“It’s not just the forecast I trust.” Ford grinned. “I discovered a scroll a while back that has spells for manipulating the weather. I used one yesterday that guarantees there will be no storms tonight.”

“Huh.” Stan busied himself setting out their sleeping bags instead. 

Soon enough, camp was set up, and they began preparing a dinner of roasted weenies and canned beans. As the sunlight finally faded and the stars began to shine, the conversation turned to the future, and how their lives would change once they put the hyperdrive to use and completed their project.

“As much as I enjoy bein’ out here and workin’ with ya,” Fiddleford said, “Once the project’s finished, I’m goin’ back to my family in California.”

“Why don’t you move your family out here?” Ford asked. “Surely a small community like Gravity Falls would be a better place to raise your son than Palo Alto.”

“Maybe so, but I gotta get my own career off the ground first. I’d like to start patenting robotics that’ll make folks’ lives easier, and there’s a lot more billionaires in California who’re willin’ to invest in independent inventors. I wanna give Tate what I didn’t have growin’ up, like a nice house with a screen door that doesn’t blow open every time there’s a gust of wind.”

“Heh, working screen doors? I don’t think those exist.” Stan chuckled.

“We certainly didn’t have one in our home.” Ford rolled his eyes.

“Haha, I can practically still hear Ma yellin’--”

“Who locked the screen door!?” The twins mimicked in unison, then shared a laugh.

“What about you, Ford?” Stan asked. “Lemme guess, you’re gonna start tourin’ me around to all the big scientific conventions, showin’ off all you’ve learned about the Amazing Spider-Mutant!”

Ford shot his brother a hurt look. “Stanley, I wouldn’t do that to you! You of all people should know I’d never want to see anyone paraded around like an exotic animal, least of all my own brother! I know you’ve been keeping your identity a secret because you don’t want to be treated like… like a freak.” Like me. “I wouldn’t ever publish anything we’ve learned from studying your powers without your permission.”

Stan gaped at his brother in surprise for a moment. All the time he’d been here, he’d figured Ford was keeping him around because he was a walking scientific discovery. Ford was always going on and on about how much they could learn from him, about how useful his powers would be to their studies. And while Stan was the only one here who wasn’t a genius, that didn’t mean he was completely stupid. He knew there had to be some sort of Nobel Prize or some other sort of sciency award for discovering a mutated human being who could climb walls and lift thousands of pounds. And yet, Ford wasn’t interested in any of that, simply because he knew his brother wouldn’t be comfortable with it. It was almost like Ford cared more about Stan as an individual than as a research opportunity. And that was more than Stan had ever allowed himself to hope for.

“Wow, uh, thanks Ford.” Stan finally said, at a loss for words.

“Besides, I’ve got my eyes on a bigger prize.”

Fiddleford and Stan shared a glance and sat back. It was clear from Ford’s tone that he was about to launch into one of his lectures.

“Every major field of science has a unifying theory, something that ties all the different pieces of their discipline together. Chemistry has the periodic table. Geology has plate tectonics. Biology has evolution. Physics has mass-energy equivalence. Cryptozoology and the study of other anomalies aren’t taken seriously as a science, partially because there is no underlying theory to tie it all together. That’s why I’ve come here to Gravity Falls. Surely, here, in the middle of the highest concentration of living anomalies in the world, I’ll be able to find that Grand Unifying Theory of Weirdness. 

“When we finally discover the origin of all anomalies and prove my theory right, the world will finally see that the weird things of the world are not something to fear or overlook, and I’ll go down in history as the man who brought it all into the spotlight! I’ll be among the scientific greats of our time, like Carl Sagan and Steven Hawking! I’ll finally be able to go home a hero! Stan, imagine the look on Crampelter’s face when I’m on TV, shaking hands with the President! Better yet, imagine what the West Coast Tech Board of Directors will think when they realize the man who changed the world is the same kid they rejected years ago! Then we’ll see who’s a waste of time!”

Stan’s eyebrows shot up as he listened to his brother’s tirade. I'll finally be able to go home. He'd been wishing for that for over a decade. He'd never imagined his brother was hoping for the same thing. Only Ford wasn't just trying to buy back the approval of their father; he was trying to win the respect of the whole town! 

And apparently the hotshots over at West Coast Tech as well. Stan was shocked by his brother's bitter tone as he imagined showing them he wasn't a waste of time. The only other person his brother had ever taken that tone with was, well, Stan, when the young scientist had still blamed his brother for smashing the spider habitat. Despite the fact that it was over a decade ago, despite the fact that Ford had discovered an alien ship and was on the verge of this world-changing theory, the pain of their rejection still affected him. Stan knew losing that scholarship had hurt Ford financially and academically, but he'd never really thought of how much it must have hurt emotionally.

Well, obviously there had been a bunch of emotions between the two of them, plenty of betrayal and broken trust and all the negativity that came with that. But Stan always felt like he was the one who came out with the worst of it. He hadn't considered that Ford dealt with more emotional damage outside of that.

"If you're so keen to be the talk of the scientific community, why wait?" McGucket asked, interrupting Stan's thoughts. "Ya got a discovery right here that'll change the world!" He slapped the hyperdrive for emphasis. "You publish yer findings on Crash Site Omega, heck, even just the weird fauna ya studied round these parts, and you'll be sittin' pretty. That'd give you time to settle down, maybe even meet someone and start a family of yer own."

Ford burst out laughing, and didn't stop for almost a minute. "No, heh, no, I don't think so." He finally said once his giggle fit had run its course. "Romance is one mystery of the universe I don't think I'll ever solve. And even if that weren't the case, once the truth about Gravity Falls and Crash Site Omega gets out, it will become a 'Weirdness Rush'. Every interested scientist, cryptozoologist, and curious bystander in the world will want to come explore this place. If I don't come up with the Unifying Theory of Weirdness first, someone else will. I'd just be a footnote, the Otto Lilienthal to someone else's Wright Brothers.

"I've never been one to take the path of least resistance. True, it's been a long, laborious, lonely road, but I know it will be worth it.” He looked up at his friend and his brother. “...And I'm glad it's not quite so lonely anymore."

Stan stood abruptly. "Welp, this is gettin' too sappy for me." He tried to hide his cracking voice behind a forced yawn.

"Stanley, are you crying?"

"I just got smoke in my eye! Shut up!"

MWEZ-RELA CMRSZ BY JR NHDSVT G NWYL GOTM. CCEK DWETQ HL I CPNSL QP ABSLBRQAM DMBM GU OIZXRT AW RQZ.

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Beauty Within the Fallen ch.V

Summary: Two misfit twins come across an enchanted castle, home of a mysterious beast, and slowly begin to form a strong bond that just might survive through anything. Even evil demons.

AU and artwork belong to the beautiful and very talented @artsycrapfromsai​. Go give her some love, guys!!!

ch.IV - ch.VI

~~~~~~~~~~

When the children arrived back with the master of the castle and a pig, Soos was a horrid mess and Wendy took charge. The servants of the castle helped to bring the old beast up to the West Wing and back into his bedroom. The journal watched, uncovered by glass, and listened to the children working together to take care of Stan. Mabel was soft, Dipper was strong, and they were both kind. Once Mabel made sure Stan was comfortable in his bed, Dipper accepted the large supply of bandages and washcloths with hot water and began to work on his injuries. It turned out that Stan had several bad scratches and bites on his back as well as his arm; one bite on his right shoulder was particularly nasty and probably hurt a lot.

All while the boy cleaned the wounds, the beast growled in his throat, almost like purring from an angry cat. He tried to mask his pain, but Mabel sat by his head and held his claw, telling him that if he wanted he could squeeze her hand when he was hurt. Stan gave her a funny look as Mabel petted the back of his paw, feeling the soft texture of his gray fur and smiling. “I can take care of myself.” He growled. “I’ve been doing it this long.” “We know.” Dipper said firmly, free to roll his eyes since Stan’s back was to him. “But we kinda owe you.” “You’re darn right you do.” Stan sneered. “I’ve got a long list of disgusting chores that’ll give my face a run for its money, and it’s got your names on it.” He sighed and added in a softer tone. “Guess it’s not all your fault, though.” Mabel shook her head. “It’s okay, Monsieur Stan, we shouldn’t have come into your room. We’re sorry.” Dipper nodded. “I’ll admit, I suck at knowing when to quit.” Stan snorted a laugh. “Wanna call it even?” “Deal.” Mabel accepted happily and squeezed his paw. As Dipper continued to work, Stan’s tired old body, comforted by the girl’s petting and the boy’s care, started to lose its strength again and he soon fell asleep. Mabel giggled, listening to his deep breathing, and turned to look at the journal. It was closed, so Monsieur Ford had no way to talk if he wanted to. Pitying him, Mabel got down from Stan’s bed and went to the journal. She opened it and sat it on the table, touching as little as she could. Dipper paused bandaging an injury and watched with a skeptical look. “There you go, Monsieur Ford.” Mabel said kindly. Words soon appeared on the page. Thank you, my dear. Thank you so very much for bringing my brother home. “You’re brother?!” Mabel gasped, but then covered her mouth with both hands, afraid of waking Stan, but he was too exhausted to be stirred right now. Yes. The master of this castle, my brother Stanley. “Monsieur Ford,” Dipper said, finished helping Stan, and he walked towards the journal and his sister. “You weren’t always a journal, and Stan wasn’t always a beast, right?” And he looked back at the portrait of the twin boys. That is correct. We were once human, like you, but we were cursed. “S'il vous plaît, Monsieur.” Mabel pleaded. “Will you tell us what happened?” Since you two seem to enjoy stories, I shall. You will have to help me along, reading. Ford’s tone seemed to be warm and inviting. Despite this, Mabel’s face turned red and she rubbed an arm nervously. “I don’t read very good.” “That’s not true, Mabel.” Dipper said quickly and side-hugged her. “Don’t worry, I’ll read out-loud.” I am sure a bright girl like yourself is a fine reader, Mabel. The journal wrote. </i>You remind me so much of Stanley; he too often thought little of his intelligence, but he is way smarter than others (and he) gave him credit for.</i> Mabel smiled, still red, and sat on her knees, looking up at the book. An armchair scurried up to the kids and spoke. “AH! Mi precioso, do not sit on the cold floor! Come, come! Have a seat, both of you, and relax.” Kids, this is Abuelita, as she prefers to be called by everyone. Soos’ grandmother. Ford explained as Mabel sat in the cozy chair. “Thanks!” She said to Abuelita. Dipper joined her with the journal in his hands. He laid the book on their laps and said, “We’re ready, Monsieur Ford.” Very well. Thirty years ago, shortly after our parents’ death, we became entangled in something we shouldn’t have. It was my fault. While Stanley was as strong as five men and more witty than any professor, I excelled academically and held a lot of promise. Father and so many others unfairly showed favor in me and I was ignorant to how it must have hurt my twin. I also felt out of place, alone. Notice the six-fingered hand on the cover; as a human I have six fingers on each hand. As a child I was bullied and made fun of, but Stanley was always there and told me it made me special. It became my mark as I began to investigate the strange mysteries of the woods and the wonders of the world. Intrigued, I soon met a golden triangle with one eye and formal attire. When the words slowly disappeared, they were replaced with a drawing. The kids looked to indeed find a triangle with a top hat and a bowtie and a cane, having only one eye and two stick arms and two stick legs. Bill Cipher. A dangerous demon of nightmares and a master of the mind. Ford went on. I was a fool, blinded by his flattery and games. I was falling down a very deep hole, but I was lucky to have Stanley there, like always, and he managed to con the ultimate conman. This angered Bill, and as revenge he cursed us. “How?” Dipper asked. “What exactly did he do to you?” He turned Stanley into a beast and me into a journal, and all of the servants turned as well, as we are now. I cannot walk or talk like the staff can, only communicate through writing, and I slowly lose my pages. With each page, I lose part of my memory and a part of myself. When the last page falls, I will be nothing more than an empty shell, and everyone will remain cursed forever. “This story's so sad!” Mabel exclaimed. “There’s gotta be a way to get a happy ending!” “Mabel’s right,” Dipper said. “Is there a way to undo the curse?” The journal was blank for a moment, but then these words seeped onto the page: After he cursed us, Bill only said that when Stanley loves someone and earns their love in return can the curse be undone. Mabel lit up. “Love? We can help! There’s tons of cute single ladies in our village who would love to go out with a nice, smart, strong guy like Stan!” “I dunno, Mabel,” Dipper said hesitantly. “Everyone in our town thinks we’re weirdos and make fun of us. How do you think they’ll react to Stan?” “But once they got to know him…” Your people think you are weird? The journal wrote. How come? Dipper crossed his arms over his chest. “They think we’re ‘odd’ because Mabel’s learning how to read, I don’t wanna join the army, and we like to invent things.” They make fun of you over that? I’m sorry. I think reading and inventing is no reason to be made fun of, nor is a lack in desire to fight. “Oh, I still wanna learn how to fight, I just don’t wanna be anyone’s tool.” Dipper then suddenly turned bright red. “No offense.” Ford, however, quivered ever so slightly and big capital letters spilled over the page. HAHAHAHAHA! No offense taken, my boy! Holy Moses, I haven’t… well, I wouldn’t call that laughing, but thank you for making me almost laugh for the first time in thirty years. “Thirty years.” Mabel repeated with a small moan. “Don’t you worry, Monsieur Ford, we’ll help Stan fall in love so everyone will be free.” It is not for you to worry about. “Yes it is!” Mabel insisted. “You’re our friends. We wanna help you.” “Yeah, man,” Dipper said, actually gradually siding with Mabel on this one. “Once Fiddleford finds this place we’ll go home and help find someone for Stan.” “He’s a great guy,” Mabel said. “And I’m the best matchmaker in the world! I bet together we can end this curse and kick Bill’s butt!” “Mabel,” Dipper hushed as she became overly passionate and was a bit too loud. Your enthusiasm is greatly appreciated and valued, kids, but do not fret over it. We have time. “How much time?” Dipper asked, eyeing how many pages Ford had. If I absolutely had to make a guess of how long we have left… ten years. “Oh.” Dipper said, freed from the sense of urgency. He yawned into his hand. “Still, we’ll do what we can for you guys.” The journal was blank again, like he was doing some thinking, but then he wrote, Thank you, again, but now is not the time to worry about all that. You two should get to bed. It’s late. Mabel shook her head. “Nuh, uh. What if Stan needs our help with his boo-boos? We’ll just have a sleepover right here, won’t we, Abuelita?” “Si, niña.” The armchair said and used her unusual arms to throw a blanket over the twins. Dipper took off his hat, finding Abuelita quite comfortable, and he wrapped an arm around his sister. After the scare he had earlier, he had to admit he liked the idea of sleeping by her side tonight. “Good idea, sis.” “I’m full of good ideas.” Mabel joked. “G’night, Monsieur Ford.” Goodnight, Dipper and Mabel. Sweet dreams. Mabel hugged Dipper around his waist, his arm still around her, and she smiled as she closed her eyes. She could hear his heartbeat. It was faster than it should be for sleep. Knowing just what to do, she began to quietly sing a lullaby. “Days in the sun, though your life has barely begun, not until my own life is done will I ever leave you.” Dipper chuckled, remembering the song Fiddleford and Shermie used to sing, and he muttered sleepily, “Oh, I’ll tremble again to my dear one's gorgeous refrain. You will not forever remain out of reach of my arms.” His eyes, which had been open, found Ford’s open pages spilling a poem missing it’s tune. All those days in the sun, What I'd give to give you them all, All to my love, And sing out my call. “You know that song?” Dipper asked and Mabel opened her eyes to find it on Ford’s pages. Our mother used to sing it to us when we were children, every night. Please, continue and ignore me. “You should sleep, too, Monsieur Ford.” Mabel said sleepily. She took the journal in her arms, hugged the closed book, and held him as she leaned on her brother. Ford didn’t get a chance to explain that he did not sleep, but as he could ghostly feel the girl’s warmth, he was beyond happy to be in her embrace for the night. Dipper smiled, gave Mabel a squeeze, and closed his eyes for sleep as he uttered under his breath. “Days in the sun will return, we must believe. As lovers do, that days in the sun will come shining through.” ~~~~~~~~~~ Despite the wolves, despite the darkness, despite the freezing cold and the falling snow, Fiddleford trudged on. He held his casted, broken arm close to his chest for warmth, crushing a few inches of snow with his boots. The snow was coming down hard, blinding him and making it feel like a hundred tiny knives were cutting his face, but he forced himself to keep going. The idea of his children somewhere in this snow terrified him. “Dipper!” He called out. “Mabel!” Fiddleford brought his scarf up to his nose so his breath would warm the bottom-half of his face. The familiar scents of family and love came to his schnoz. Mabel had knitted him this green scarf. In fact, she knitted him his sweater and gloves, too, but this scarf, tangled and elementary, had been Mabel’s first scarf and once Shermie’s, but when he died and left it back to Mabel, she insisted that Fiddleford have it. Every time Fiddleford went to Paris to sell the clocks and music boxes in the past, he always asked the twins what they wanted, as a way to help handle his absence better. Every time, Dipper asked for a book everyone would want to hear him read and Mabel hesitantly asked for yarn. Yarn was usually very expensive, and she knew that, but she had a raw talent for knitting and sewing. No one had taught her how to knit or sew, but the minute the materials were in her hands, as young as four, she knew what to do. She was amazing like that. Better yet, with her gift of yarn, if lucky enough to have some, she always made clothes for others before herself, knitting Dipper, Fiddleford, and Shermie sweaters and gloves and scarfs and hats to keep them warm during long winters. The first time she surprised Fiddleford with a blue sweater, she smiled at him and said, “Now you can have me wherever you go.” Fiddleford wiped his eyes dry; he couldn’t afford to cry, his tears would freeze on his face. Mabel needed him, Dipper needed him, so he continued to call out their names as the rest of the village searched behind him, much slower than the old man. ~~~~~~~~~~ Stan woke up to the sound of giggling. He opened his eyes, facing the window and Ford’s table, and he found Mabel standing there with a quill in her hand and playing tic-tac-toe with Ford. She was Xs and Ford was Os. Most of the time Mabel won, but occasionally (whether to keep her humble or because Brainiac couldn’t help himself) Ford would win, but Mabel seemed just as delighted by Ford’s wins as her own. “Yay! Good job, Monsieur Ford! Okay, you go first.” Stan smiled and slowly sat up. Dipper was by his side and smiled. “Morning, Stan. How are you feeling?” “M’fine, kid.” Stan said, popping his old back and stretching his arms. He ruffled his fur loose and gave the boy an impressed smile. “Good job fixin’ me up, I feel good as new.” “Thanks.” Dipper said. “Monsieur Stan!” Mabel called, turning away from her game with Ford for a moment. “Did you see?! IT SNOWED! We should all play outside!” “C’mon, Mabel,” Dipper said easily. “Stan’s just a hurt old man, he should take it easy.” And he gave the beast a smirk. “Old man?!” Stan barked and stood tall and strong. “That’s it, you just earned yourself a huge snowball to the face!” “And don’t worry, Monsieur Ford,” Mabel said, setting her quill down and scooting the table with Ford on it closer to the window. “This way you can watch us. If you want to.” Thank you, Mabel. The words read. Waddles oinked happily and showed his belly to Stan, lying on the floor. He glared at the animal. “And what is that?” “That’s my pet pig, Waddles!” Mabel joyfully introduced. “He found us in the woods last night.” “No,” Stan said firmly and shook his head. “No pigs allowed in this castle. They’re nothing but fat, naked jerks.” “Aw, come on,” The girl cooed and hugged her pig with big brown eyes. “Just for a few days?” Stan winced. Sacrebleu, that girl was just very manipulated. He ignored the painful reminder that the kids were only here for a little while and growled, “Fine, just make sure he doesn’t eat any of Sixer’s pages or I’m eating him for lunch.” “Don’t worry, we keep books around him all the time.” Dipper said as he petted the pig’s head. “He knows not to bother them.” Dipper and Mabel dragged Stan out by his paws and for the outdoors. Waddles climbed up on Abuelita the armchair and curled up for a nap. The kids admired the beautiful garden covered in the late autumn snow. A soft blanket coated the whole world, fluffy but not delicate. Everyone was warmly dressed and ready to play. The twins took in deep breaths and then slowly counted to three. On three, they simultaneously jumped off the short balcony and landed on their faces. Stan watched, confused, but then they both rolled on their fronts and laughed, their breath visible, and they began to make snowangels on the ground. “Come on, Stan!” Mabel called. “Yeah, c’mon, man!” Dipper shouted happily. Stan smiled mischievously, took a step back, and then launched himself into the air. He landed with his beefy arms over each kid and his head in the middle, and when he turned on his back with the kids in his hold, all three were laughing like mad. Mabel swiftly made a snowball and threw it at Dipper’s face. He scrambled up after his running sister and threw one at her. Stan sat in the snow, watching the kids play, throwing snowballs at each other and running around the yard. His tail wagged against the sparkling snow. Dipper threw one and Mabel ran around Stan, resorting to the ball hitting him right in the face. Stan shook the snow out of his eyes as Mabel laughed and Dipper paled, but wearing a kind smirk on his face, Stan gathered a snowball in his paw and threw it at Dipper, who was hit in the chest and ran. Stan scurried to his feet and ran around with the kids, throwing slightly bigger snowballs that the kids enjoyed. Stan soon made a huge snowball with his strong arms, the ball almost as big as one child, but when Mabel threw one at Stan’s face he accidentally dropped the huge ball that was held over his head and he was covered in snow. Dipper and Mabel laughed so hard they had no choice but to stop running, leaning on each other for support. Stan found their laugh more contagious than the plague and roared with joy as he shook off the snow like a dog on all fours. Mabel ran into his arms and Dipper soon followed, hugging him to warm him up and apologize without words for winning the war. Stan was surprised by their desire to hug him, but he hugged them back gently and rubbed their backs, finding their clothes soaked. “Alright, gremlins, let’s get you dry and warm.” Stan said and picked them up to go back into the castle. “We can play again later.” “Okay,” Mabel cooed as she snuggled against Stan’s chest, holding onto his gray fur. “Hm, you’re so warm.” Stan’s own face suddenly felt a little warmer. “Yeah, well, there’s some benefits to being a big ugly monster, I guess.” That didn’t sit right with the twins. From each of his arms, they exchanged looks, but an idea came to Dipper that distracted him from Stan’s comment. “Hey, can we read with Ford while we dry off? He says he’s got lots of great stories to tell.” Stan smiled down at him. “You like him, don’t you?” “Yeah, he’s pretty cool.” Dipper said, glancing away. “I thought you would. You’re both nerds.” Stan teased. Dipper shrugged in a whatcha-gonna-do-about-it style. Mabel hopped down and said, “I’ll go get him so we can read together!” And she ran up the stairs. Dipper got down from Stan’s hold, too, and was about to go to the living room, but Stan spoke and stopped him in his tracks. “Kid, wait. You really like books, right?” Dipper turned and responded with a dip of his head. “Yeah, I do. I was pretty much the only one that read the library in town, and by library I mean one bookshelf.” Stan waved a paw towards himself. “Follow me. I got something for you.” Dipper casually followed Stan down a hallway and they stopped at the double doors. The beast turned to the boy and gave him a cunning smile. “Ah, ah. Close your eyes.” Dipper crossed his arms over his chest and sneered at him with a smile. “Is this a prank?” “No, just do it.” Stan chuckled. “It’s a surprise.” Dipper gave in and closed his eyes. After testing that he truly was blind by waving a paw in front of his face, Stan opened the doors and put a hand on his back to help him walk. “Okay, okay, here we go… okay, stop.” “Can I see?” “Hold it, squirt, gimme a sec.” Stan hurried to pull back curtains and brighten the room. Candles magically came to life. “Okay, okay… open ‘em up!” Dipper opened his eyes, blinked to adjust to the newfound light, and then his jaw dropped. Towering over him, a room arguably bigger than the ballroom held thousands if not hundreds of thousands of books. Rich mahogany desks sat filled with parchment and quills and ink, globes and atlas took up some desk space, but Dipper couldn’t tear his eyes away from all of the books. Stairways and ladders could reach the books up at the very top and giant windows seeped in beautiful sunlight to ease the eyes. “Shut. Up.” Dipper said hoarsely. “I’ve never seen so many books! Look at this place!” He went to a bookshelf and gently ran a hand over the dozens of spines exposed to him. “You like it?” Stan asked, leaning by the door with his arms crossed over his chest. “I love it!” “Then it’s all yours.” Dipper’s jaw was nearly on the floor when he turned to look at the master of the castle. “You really mean it?” “Sure do, Smart Guy.” Stan smiled at him. “Go nuts.” Dipper, trembling, ran to a shelf and began to pick books to read. Mabel came in, carrying Ford carefully like he was a baby, and she gasped joyfully. “Wowie, zowie! A whole library!” She gave Ford to Stan to hold and joined her brother, helping him by holding his stack of books. Stan smiled and opened Ford to talk to him. Immediately words appeared before him. That was ingenious, Stanley. Dipper will surely make good use out of the library. “Thanks, Sixer.” Stan watched the kids from across the vast room, his smile dropping. As a twin, he knew that it was rare to have something done only for you and not you and your twin. He wanted to do something special for each of them, but each of them separately. The library was Dipper’s, though Mabel was free to use it since she obviously liked stories (Stan noticed that Dipper liked “books” and Mabel liked “stories”), but she needed something of her own. “I wanna do something for Mabel.” He whispered. “But I know nothing about what girls like. Make-up? Dolls?” My knowledge on girls is also very limited. Ford admitted. But I do know that you should consider something that sparks her interests and not something exclusively femanine. You didn’t give Dipper a gun or a sword. Stan shrugged. “Okay, good point. So, what? What does Mabel like?” Well, I can recall her saying this morning that she loves sweaters. When I asked her about it, she said she loves to knit but could rarely afford the yarn. “That’s it!” Stan closed Ford gently and held him against his chest one-armed. “Mabel, sweetie, can you come with me? I got something for you, too.” Mabel shoved the twenty-plus books in her brother’s arms and ran up to Stan. He smiled at her huge grin and walked with her down the hall. He led her to a single door. Mabel instantly took off her pink headband and tied it over her eyes so she wouldn’t be tempted to peek. “I wanna be surprised!” She squealed. Stan chuckled. “Give me your hand, kid.” Mabel did and Stan led her into the room. He opened a curtain and let go of the girl’s little hand. “Alright, you can look now.” Mabel pulled her blindfold down onto her neck and she gasped so big her lungs filled quickly. It was like a grand supply closet. There was a wall full of rolls of different patterns of fabric and silk, figurines to make clothes on, drawers full of supplies, desks full of paints and canvases and brushes, and an odd shelf of some kind, squares that held bundles of yarn, all in rainbow order. What was better yet, this room may have been only twenty feet wide, but it was forty feet tall, like a tower, and a rolling ladder helped to reach the higher fabrics and yarns. A window as tall as the room let in bright sunlight to make crafting easy. “OH MY GOSH!” Mabel cried out and looked around the room. “It’s like arts-n’-crafts heaven!” “It was Ma’s room.” Stan shared as he chuckled over Mabel’s joy. “She used to come down here and spend hours painting and drawing and making clothes. Pa used to get on her case about it. Said she didn't give the seamstresses enough to do.” “Your dad sounds like a stupid jerk.” Mabel added quickly before resuming her cheerful attitude. “This is wonderful! I love it! LOOK at all the COLORS!” “If you like it so much, then it’s yours.” Stan said. Mabel turned and Stan was clutched to find her crying. Well, not really crying, but there were tears in her eyes and one escaped each eye, rolling down her cheeks. “THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU!” Mabel cheered and ran to him. One arm busy holding Ford, Stan fell on his butt by the impact of the girl and she hugged him around his big neck, nuzzling her face into his fur. He stared ahead in astonishment and wrapped an arm around her, petting her soft brown hair and admiring her warmth. Too soon she skipped away and climbed up the ladder for some red yarn. “I’m gonna make you a sweater first! Then I’ll make Ford one, a little book-holder to keep him warm.” “I don’t think he really gets cold anymore.” Stan said as he stood again. “Well then, I’ll go ahead and make him a sweater to wear when he’s human again.” Mabel reasoned. Stan was distracted by that statement. When he was human again. When they were human again. He had lost all hope for so long of someone ever loving him that it seemed foolish to think of the curse ever being broken, but Mabel and Dipper seemed to like him, and Ford probably loved him (for some odd reason) so maybe it was possible for him to find a beautiful mademoiselle to love and have her love him back. Stan shook his train of thought away as Dipper now joined them, six books stacked in his arms and making his limbs quiver, but he didn’t seem to care. “Mabel, what’s… whoa-oh!” Dipper awed at the room. “No way! Cool art supplies.” “Thanks!” Mabel said and climbed down with red and orange yarn in her arms and she opened a drawer full of different size knitting needles and pulled out a pair she liked. “Wanna read to us by the fire?” “Sure.” In the lounge, Stan sat in front of the huge fireplace, making plenty of room for Ford to be safe. Dipper and Mabel sat in his lap, the boy at his left and the girl at his right, and Dipper opened Ford and the journal began to tell a story. Dipper read the words out-loud, occasionally having Mabel give reading a try, only needing assistance a handful of times for bigger words, but Ford seemed to purposely use smaller words when it was her turn to read. Stan, without realizing it, was purring. The children noticed, but said nothing. Mabel nuzzled closer to him, grateful for his large body and fluffy gray fur. She thought he was wonderful in every aspect and Dipper full-heartedly agreed. The biggest mystery of them all was how Dipper didn’t see this all before.

~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note: This… this is where, in my humble opinion, the story actually becomes worth reading. I feel like the patience we, the audience, must have with the BatB story - seeing the Beast as he is before his change of heart, seeing Belle run away and all the obstacles before them both - make the bonding scenes even better. Gives a FINALLY sort of feeling. I wanted to carry that over here, making the beginning a little slow (though I probably lost some readers that way), but making it even more rewarding for those who read on. Or maybe I’m just making an excuse for a suck-ish beginning. Who knows. Okay, so Waddles NOT being a footstool is so that it ties in more to the canon GF storyline. I didn’t want Waddles to be some pet Stan didn’t like and only tolerated for someone else’s sake or a farm-animal that was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Rather, I had him always be Mabel’s and I also left him at home in the beginning to better parallel the show’s canon (even though Waddles is in the intro, he isn’t introduced until S1E9). I also, mainly, just really wanted Stan to only allow Waddles in the castle to make Mabel happy, cuz Imma sap that’s why. Moving on, I put both Days in the Sun and a hint of Something There at the end. When writing the snow scene, I listened to Wolf Children’s Snow soundtrack; I personally thought it fit so well. Not much else to say except Mabel’s craft-room is my idea and I love love LOVE the library scene (both in this fic and in the animated BatB movie; the live-action movie RUINED the scene!) Thank you so much for reading, and I hope y’all enjoy it!

[bolbianddolanhouse]

Book 3 FAQ!

Need to catch up? Heres all the previous FAQs 1 * 2 Heres the master post of all three books 1 * 2 * 3

Wow...you would think that with the whole pandemic that I’d get these chapters out faster. But alas this year got the best of me too. I’ve been a lil vulnerable in the tags with y’all and the check-in messages really touched me. So thank you very much to everyone that has checked up on me and enjoyed the chapters! I appreciate all of you :3 So lets roll out the questions!

Q: Who is Iwata based off? A: Iwata is based off my self-insert, which is also me. I know that sounds a lil narcissistic but it’s that real life reference that you’re a spitting image of your parent. Iwata was designed to look and act very similar to his mother based off that. What made him a little more original and not a copy of my self-insert is the tropes I added. I mirrored the trope of that of the relationship between Steven and his mom in Steven Universe; where he adored, then hated but then came to terms that he is not his mom but someone better. A whole journey of self-discovery and self-worth.

Q: The representation is amazing! How did you come up with these queer characters? A: Glad you liked them! Like I’ve said in previous FAQs and in the tags, all these characters were dreamt and I just build upon them in writing. So yes, most of my characters were created queer in my dreams but I make them more in depth by setting up how they discovered they’re queer. I did a bit of research on coming out stories and self-discovery epiphanies to have these characters more relatable so a fellow queer reader feels seen in a way. There’s already too much hetero works out there, I just want to gay it up in a respectful way. 

Q: The culture mixing is really good and consistent, how do you do it? A: For starters, I am latina. But the culture mixing stems from my knowledge about other cultures through language. I’ve been studying Japanese for almost a decade now and Chinese for about 4 years, so it’s no surprise that I’m referencing them in my work. Maybe what I depict isn’t what other half-Japanese half-Latinx families do, but it’s what I’d do if I started such a family. Plus there’s some overlap within those cultures and it makes it easy to put into writing.

Q: So. much. drama! Why is this book more dramatic than the previous two? A: Book 3 is were main on-going plot gets picked up more and shows signs of resolution. In book 2, it was to focus on not only Lili and the family dynamic but to remind the reader that life moved on with little resolve for the self-insert character. Iwata has a HUGE role in the resolution but in his own special way. And I’m not saying the answer is love...but it’s leaning there. 

Q: You reference specific food and snacks in this AU/ what are your favorite Cheetos? A: Like I said, I’m latina! Of course I write in the food of my home culture. Mainly the home cooked meals my mom would make for me and my siblings. It might not seem like much to the reader, but those simple meals add to the narrative of being home and traditions that help them embrace their mixed heritage. The reference of Cheetos are all over this AU because they’re my favorite hot chip. Naturally, my favorite Cheetos are the Hot con Límon with chamoy. 

Q: Love that there’s no canon character deaths in this book so far, but are there any major deaths planned? A: Just one but it’s not a tragic, hero fallen type death. It’s a natural death but it’s gonna be a tear jerker. That death won’t come until the WAY end of this AU, so I’m not gonna spoil anything yet.

Q: Can’t believe you predicted Dabi’s true identity. A: It was obvious tho. I didn’t really predict anything canon if you’re an anime only for BNHA. In this AU (without spoiling too much) there’s no Endeavor redemption and Dabi doesn’t cause that big drama on live TV. So if you’re an Endeavor hater like me, you’re gonna love what I have in store for them in the next book!

Q: I love Tenya being a dad and loving husband in this AU! Will we see more dad moments? A: Glad you like those snippets of dad Tenya! I love writing them for my own indulgence since there isn’t enough love for this character in the fandom. Plus I see a whole lot of consistent readers are Iida-stans and that makes me want to write more married fluff whenever I can.

Q: Beizu is best boi/Who is Beizu based off of? A: Beizu is the genius trope in this book. I made his character a more chill version of his mom but with that ‘who is my dad’ trope. Beizu is part of a trio that’s to mirror the agent trio of Ita, Jin and Mimi. The third member is yet to be revealed but they’re a BIG plot device in the coming book. But Beizu is one of my favorite OCs, maybe I’ll do a ranking of my OCs when everyone is introduced. 

Q: The villains and Hawks plot has me SHOOK! What’s going to happen to hero society when this case gets solved? A: Without spoiling it, the truth is going to expose the corrupt higher ups in hero society. The kids in the household has a part in taking down hero society as well but in their own, special way. Iwata has the biggest part in closing the case (but it’s spoiler if I say how), Lili and twins help tearing down minor things like education systems and laws. I will say though, the case gets resolved after the trio retires because Ita gets to return to America and found an heir to the company before they could draw to a conclusion. Which is a happy ending at the end of the storyline, no major deaths!

Q: Confirmed weddings? A: Yes :) because Lili and Iwata deserve good things and love. The twins have it easy in the coming book. Lili’s comes first and Iwata’s comes later than expected (can’t say why yet, gotta keep reading :3). I guess I can say that all of them get married but Lili’s and Iwata’s are the only queer ones. All the spouses that marry into the family take the Iida name, so Lili and Hanaka don’t change family names when they get married! Y’all already know those wedding chapters are gonna be lavish and take up most of the chapter, you’ll love them.

Q: But are the kids Joji stans? A: Oh jeez...they are the same way we like 80′s music. It’s pleasant to listen to but kinda cringe when you see your parents dance to it. I don’t really portray it, but the family digital library has all of Joji’s music in a playlist called ‘Sad hours Soundtrack’. If you ask Mr Muffins 2.0 who last listened to the playlist, they’ll snitch who and how many times it has been looped. That’s how Tenya knows who needs cheering up.

Q: I love the little references to their childhood, what else can you tell us about their pre-book childhood? A: As I said a few times in the tags, I cut a ton of stuff that isn’t relevant to the plot. Most of it was their childhood and how they manifested their quirks. Lili really liked to scream before she learned to talk, a very fast learner and at 3 years old got her engine quirk and later that year showed signs of a second quirk. Iwata was very quiet child, hardly cried or gets upset but latched on to mom a lot. His first words were in Spanish but struggled a bit with Japanese before entering kinder. Tensei was born first, then Hanaka followed 10 minutes later. Hanaka’s fire quirk manifested after the first breast feeding when she was getting burped by mom in the hospital. Mom likes to believe Tensei came out first to warn everybody that Hanaka can breathe fire. Tensei didn’t manifest his metal quirk until the age of 7, making him a very late bloomer. Though very different in personalities, Hanaka and Tensei get along and get very creative when it’s playtime. Up until the age of 5, mom would place Hanaka in kindling to get the BBQ grill or bonfire started. Hanaka has been known to randomly burst into flames as a baby, so Tensei had to sleep in a different crib for his safety. Tensei spent more time reading as a child because everyone was focused on managing Hanaka’s flames, thus making him a very studious boy.

Q: Not an AU question, but how are you doing?/ We don’t mind waiting for the chapters! Please take your time. A: I’ve been getting check ins and validation in my asks for the inconsistent schedule. Too many things came at me this year, both good and bad. I was doing well in speech and debate that I went to nationals and prepared myself for some serious competition, leaving no time to do chapters. Then I fell in and out of depressive episodes during lockdown where I’m from. In the summer my grandmother passed away from the virus in Mexico, then my beloved dog Mr Muffins passed away of old age. Those deaths hurt me and my family the most that I was having a hard time trying to cope plus trying to be responsible by adhering to CDC guidelines (I’m in the immune-comprised group). In my want to get over my grief, I trained and received my certificate in ordained ministry (yea I know that’s not the best first step, but I just needed to feel like I’ve achieved something being cooped up at home). I’ve very grateful that theres some readers that see the tags and check up on me. All your kind words gives me a little strength to write and finish every chapter at my pace.

Q: More art please? A: Yes :3 I have one coming up real soon! After the end of this book is where I’ll be releasing some art as a sort of place holder.

Q: Is the the estate drama eluding to the ending? A: Yup! And it will show up every now and then in the next book.

Q: This is a really good self insert AU! There’s complexity to your character and others...how do you write these interactions/relationships really close to actual ones? A: Thanks for the complement :3 When I first started this AU, I was in the middle of my semester of a creative writing course. Near the end of book 2 was when I finished the course work for it and by then you could see the progression in writing. ALSO, I’m a communications major as well! Writing these relationships and other social things were things that I remembered learning in my interpersonal communications class. I was a bit on fence on whether or not to start this AU because I didn’t think my writing skill was at all that good. With some encouragement from my classmates and friends, I pushed myself to write this whole AU out. I don’t plan on stopping until I finish the storyline, plus I hate leaving things unfinished.

And that wraps up this FAQ! Hopefully I got everyone’s questions since most were check-ins for me. But expect the last chapter for book 3 in the next few days. After Book 3, I’m going on a lil hiatus until the end of February. I have so many life events happening in the upcoming weeks that I’m gonna need time to recharge before resuming this AU. Y’all know I bounce back as promised, in the meantime, I have some art things queued to remind y’all that Book 4 is in the works. Only 2 more books to go! Thanks again for reading and I’ll talk you y’all again later in the tags~

-Love, Palma-sama

P.S. Heres the end of Book 3 for your connivence :3 other links are at the top of this post! 

[august-anon]

Tickletober Day 13 - Wake up!

Fun fact: this is the very first fic I wrote when prepping for tickletober and that's why it's so plot-heavy lol. It's also one of my favorite fics I've written for tickletober, so I hope you guys enjoy it! Also, sorry for the bit of angst lol

Fandom: Gravity Falls

Ship(s): platonic Pines fam

Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Dipper, Lee!Mabel, Ler!Stan (also Ford is here briefly)

Word Count: 1691 words

Summary: Stan may have difficulty recalling anything now, but at least he knows the kids will be a constant.

[ao3 link]

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

Stan sat at the kitchen table, staring down at Mabel’s scrapbook and flipping through pages. He hadn’t been able to stop since she’d given it to him a few days ago, after they all realized how much it had started helping his memory.

The thing was, Stan couldn’t remember much beyond this past summer, and even that was fractured at best. Ford told him stories, of course. Their mom, their dad, their brother. He’d told Stan about the Stan ‘O War, about how they’d always been there for each other, about shenanigans the two of them had gotten into. Stories from Ford’s perspective could only do so much, though. And Stan wasn’t as clueless as Ford thought he was, he could clearly see that Ford was holding a lot back.

Something had happened between the two of them. Possibly multiple somethings. And not good somethings, seeing as Ford wouldn’t crack.

It was disorienting and uncomfortable, to have so much of his life blank. He forgot names, faces, places. He had lapses, even with memories they thought he’d recovered permanently. Sometimes, on bad nights, Stan forgot who he was entirely again, and where he was, and why this strange man that looked like him was trying to tell him to calm down.

He didn’t know why he gave it all up. Stan’s family said, repeatedly, that what he did saved them, all of them. Even people he didn’t know or couldn’t remember. Stan wished that it brought him peace, knowing that, but it never did. He did know, though, that if it came down to it, he would probably make the same choice again in a heartbeat.

No one was hurting those kids, or his brother, ever again. Not if he could help it.

“Stanley?” Someone called from nearby. Stan got the notion that it wasn’t the first time they’d tried to get his attention.

He glanced up, seeing Ford in the doorway to the kitchen. He chuckled, slipping into a nonchalant persona that felt comfortably familiar, even if he hardly remembered it.

“Sorry, lost in thought, I guess,” he said, knocking a fist against his forehead. “Didja need something?”

Ford’s smile was tight around his eyes, like he knew exactly what Stan had been lost in thought about. “No, not at all.”

An awkward silence spread through the room again and an anxious feeling rose up in Stan’s chest. Was he supposed to be remembering something? Was this another routine he forgot, and now he was messing up the steps?

“Why don’t you go wake the kids?” Ford offered, cutting through the silence. “I can make us all breakfast. It’s starting to get late, anyway.”

Stan snorted. “Eight thirty is hardly late, Poindexter,” he said, but he was already rising from the table even as he said it, closing the scrapbook as he went.

Sure, the kids would probably be a bit grumpy. He would too, being woken up so early during a day off, especially in summer, but it gave Stan a task. Something to do that would (hopefully) be hard to mess up, memory or not. 

So Stan dragged himself up the stairs to the attic and quietly pushed open the door to the kids’ room. He sighed when he saw the two of them curled up together in Dipper’s bed. He wasn’t surprised that they were having nightmares. He couldn’t fall asleep either, most nights, but instead of a face or voice haunting him, he had no name to put to his tormentor. Stan didn’t know if that made it easier or harder.

He heard them shuffling around at night when he couldn’t sleep, whispers carrying down through the old wooden house. Never enough for the words to travel, though, just the tone: angry, scared, tired, resigned. These kids acted far too old for their age.

Stan was rather tempted to just leave them and let them sleep. They clearly weren’t sleeping any better than him or Ford, the dark bruises under their eyes only accentuated by the shadows from the window. Really, Stan doubted anyone had been sleeping well, ever since what the town had dubbed “Weirdmaggedon.”

Maybe the kids would benefit from some time outside their realms of nightmares. He could already see Mabel’s face scrunching up in fear.

But how did he wake them? How did one wake an almost-teenager? Shake them? Poke them until they got annoyed enough to open their eyes? Talk really loud until it drew them out of dreamland? None of that seemed like it would lead to very happy children.

Stan sighed again and quietly entered the room, moving to stand next to the bed. Mabel made a distressed sound in her sleep and Stan couldn’t help but let out a sympathetic hum, tucking some of her tangled hair behind her ear. Mabel scrunched up her shoulder weird and a smile briefly tugged at her lips.

Now there was an idea.

Stan may not have had much memory left, but he knew a ticklish kid when he saw them. It felt a little rude to just tickle them right awake, though. Stan figured that would be pretty startling, while coming out of a nightmare. Instead he gently grabbed each of their shoulders and carefully shook them.

“Kids,” Stan said, voice low but not quite a whisper. “Kids, it’s time to wake up.”

Mabel’s face scrunched up, this time in annoyance and not fear. “Grunkle Stan, no,” she moaned, slurring her words in her half-asleep state and rolling over to bury her face in a pillow.

“Too early,” Dipper grumbled, and pulled the blanket over both of their heads.

Stan couldn’t help but chuckle. “Alright, maybe it is a bit early for grumpy pre-teens. But you know who it’s not too early for?”

Twins gasps sounded from under the blanket, and Stan got the distinct feeling that they’d gone through this song and dance before. Well, at least it was reassuring that his personality didn’t seem to have changed much, despite the gaps in memory.

“Grunkle Stan, wait!” Mabel cried, and it already sounded like she was laughing.

“No, no!” Dipper yelled, but his voice was giddy and excited.

“There’s no Grunkle Stan, here,” Stan growled, ripping the blanket off the two of them. “There’s only… the Tickle Monster!”

Dipper and Mabel shrieked as Stan lunged.

Even if Stan himself didn’t remember, it seemed like his fingers did. One hand clawed into Dipper’s stomach, making him squawk and cackle, while the other quickly buried itself up under Mabel’s arm, making her shriek and squeal. Stan couldn’t help but laugh along with the two of them, their laughter being painfully contagious.

“Hey,” Stan said, a goofy grin spreading across his lips. “Did you know, my ex-wife still misses me--”

Dipper and Mabel both groaned through their laughter.

“But her aim is getting better!”

Stan laughed, and he was certain that if the kids weren’t laughing too hard to talk, they would be making the usual assortment of annoyed comments. 

“Wow, kids, I know I’m funny, but I didn’t know my jokes were that good.”

Mabel’s legs had started kicking, trying to propel her away from the tickling fingers, while Dipper seemed to curl in on himself as he snorted and cackled. It was an interesting dichotomy, with them being twins, and reminded Stan a lot of him and Ford when they were younger--

Well well, looks like goofing off did some good for Stan, after all.

But Stan decided that he had plenty of time to focus on that, later. For now, he needed to finish these kids off and get them down to breakfast. Preferably soon, because the realization that Ford could not cook and would likely burn the Shack down had also just hit him.

Stan leaned down, deciding to do his big finish on Dipper first. He pushed Dipper’s legs back down and pulled up his sleep shirt just enough to see his belly. Then, he took a deep breath and blew the biggest raspberry he could in the center of Dipper’s stomach, making sure to shake his head and rub his stubble in on it, and almost breaking to laugh at the near-scream that left Dipper’s lips. He blew a handful of smaller raspberries in a few random places before pulling back and letting Dipper breathe.

Turning toward Mabel, she had already tilted her head back like she knew what to expect. And now that he thought about it, Stan did seem to be getting a weird sense of deja-vu, so maybe this had been routine, before. Stan darted forward to blow a big raspberry against the side of her neck, hoping he didn’t go deaf from her shrill laughter right next to his ear, and blew a handful of smaller raspberries as he moved to the other side of it. There, he blew one last big raspberry before pulling back.

Stan sat on the edge of the bed as the kids caught their breath. They recovered faster than he expected, and Stan suddenly found himself tackled backwards to the bed, the kids laughing as they piled on top of him. Stan laughed, too.

“Good morning, Grunkle Stan!” Mabel yelled, far too loudly for having been asleep just moments before.

“Good morning!” Dipper echoed at a much lower volume.

“Come on,” he said. “We’d better get down to the kitchen before Ford blows the whole place up. I’m sure you two could convince him to step away from the stove long enough for me to make something.”

Dipper and Mabel both gave him incredibly mischievous looks before rushing out of the room without another word. Stan huffed out a breath, watching them go. Then, he quickly rose to follow them. Either his brother was about to get absolutely wrecked by two 12-year-olds, or those kids were about to have quite the round two (six fingers did wonders for tickling skills, based on what was coming back to Stan) and he didn’t want to miss a moment of either scenario.

After all, he knew more than anyone, now, that the memories he made with his family were beyond precious.

[thelastspeecher]

I got in a Spy AU mood randomly the other day and we actually talked a bit about it on the Discord and came up with some new things (that I think I will try to write a ficlet to introduce at some point).  And as I went through my Spy AU word doc, I realized that I had a decently fluffy scene written that I never posted.  It’s basically a follow-up to this.  Enjoy.

———————————————————————————————————–

              With some difficulty, Angie shuffled the bags of groceries around until she could open the door.  She stepped inside the house.  Immediately, she heard footsteps run towards her.

              “Mama!” Daisy shrieked, colliding with Angie’s legs in her excitement.  Danny followed her twin at a slightly more sedate pace.  “Mama! Uncle Fidds brought us a kitty!”

              “I heard,” Angie said calmly.  “I brought some things fer the kitty while he stays with us.”

              “Do we get to keep him?” Danny asked.

              “No, we’re just takin’ care of him until his home is ready,” Angie answered. Danny and Daisy pouted.  “He’s not ours, sweetlings, he’s someone else’s. We can’t keep him.”  Stan poked his head out of the nearby kitchen.

              “Hey, Ang.”

              “Hey, yourself.  If you want to put away the groceries, I’ll get food ready fer the kitten.”

              “On it.”  Stan walked over and took the groceries from Angie.  “By the way, he’s hiding somewhere.  I think he got sick of getting his whiskers pulled.”

              “He’ll show up,” Angie said confidently.  “Girls, go ahead and get back to colorin’ or whatever it was you were doin’.  Yer dad and I will call ya when dinner’s ready.”

              “Okay,” Danny said dutifully.  She and Daisy wandered off.

              “I think Ford already regrets deciding to stay here,” Stan said in a low tone.  “We can’t leave him alone in a room with the girls.  They’re too excited to realize he doesn’t like getting tugged on.”

              “I figured as such,” Angie replied.  She followed Stan into the kitchen.  “But other than bein’ subjected to our daughters’ enthusiasm, how’s he doin’?”

              “He hacked up a hairball on the living room rug, got tangled up in a ball of yarn, and fell asleep in my lap for fifteen minutes.  So I think he’s adjusting to being a cat pretty well,” Stan said.  Angie chuckled.  She dug out the canned wet food from one of the grocery bags, along with a small food dish.

              “Makes ya wonder if he was meant to be a cat all along.”

              “Well, Fiddlesticks said that whatever Ford got splashed with is supposed to reveal your inner self.  Or somethin’ like that.”

              “Ah.”  Angie opened the cat food.  Much like when she walked through the door, the response was immediate.  Claws sounded on the hardwood floor.  “Someone must smell their dinner.”  Angie felt something tug at her pants leg.  She looked down, expecting to see one of her daughters.  Instead, it was a kitten resembling a lion cub, with feathery wings on its back.  It clung to Angie’s clothes, staring up at her with wide eyes.  “Howdy.”  The kitten meowed.  “How are you, Stanford?”

              “If you must ask, I suppose that I’m fine,” Ford said, “but I need to ask, is that food mine?”  Ford looked at the can of food.

              “Yes, it is yours,” Angie said.  Ford meowed again and began to climb further up her leg.  “Wh- hey!  Don’t do that!”  Ford ignored her, continuing to climb.  “Stan? Some help?”

              “On it.”  Stan grabbed Ford.  “Ford, what the hel- heck?”

              “I’m hungry, of course!  I could eat a horse!” Ford moaned.

              “Using Angie as your own personal jungle gym won’t make your food get ready faster,” Stan said.  Ford hissed quietly.

              “Here, eat up,” Angie said, setting the food dish on the floor.  Stan carefully put Ford down.  Ford rushed over and began to eat voraciously.  “Slow down.  The food’s not goin’ anywhere.”

              “Feathers is eating!” a voice squealed.  Stan and Angie looked over.  Danny and Daisy were standing in the entryway to the kitchen, watching Ford with wide eyes.

              “Uh, what did you just call him?” Stan asked.

              “Feathers,” Daisy chirped.  “‘Cause he’s got feathers!”

              “Oh.”  Stan looked at Angie.  “I guess it makes sense for them to come up with something other than ‘the kitty’.”

              “I wanna play with Feathers,” Daisy announced, marching over to Ford. Ford stopped eating and watched her approach, his back arched, fur standing on end.

              “No, leave him alone,” Angie said.  She picked Daisy up.  “Would you like it if a giant kept pokin’ ya while ya tried to eat yer dinner?”

              “…No,” Daisy mumbled.

              “Exactly.  Let Feathers have a few moments of peace while yer father and I make dinner, okay?”

              “Okay.”  Angie set Daisy down.  She exited the kitchen with her twin, glancing back at Ford on her way out.

              “Sorry ‘bout that,” Angie said to Ford.  Ford didn’t respond.  He had resumed eating with gusto.  “Geez, if ya keep eatin’ so fast, you’ll-”  Angie blinked.  Before she could finish her sentence, Ford had successfully emptied his bowl.  “You were hungry, huh.”  Ford sat back on his haunches and nodded, his tail swishing idly.

              “Are you still hungry?” Stan asked.  Ford nodded again.  Stan looked at Angie.  “Should we give him more food?”

              “We have to be careful with cats.  They’ll eat themselves into obesity if ya don’t regulate their intake.” Angie frowned.  “But then again, Ford had a massive change today, which would definitely be drainin’, and kittens need enough food to grow.”  She chewed her lip, thinking.  After a minute, Stan prompted her.

              “So?”

              “Dry food,” Angie said decisively.  Ford’s tail drooped.  “We’ll give him dry food.”

              “Just because I’m a cat, you’ll feed me that?” Ford said.

              “Uh, yeah.  It’s what cats eat,” Stan said.  Ford glared at him.  Angie picked up the food dish.  While she poured dry food into it, Ford began to wash his face.

              “Okay, that’s adorable,” Angie said.  Ford huffed quietly, but continued to clean himself.  He paused, a strange expression on his face.

              “Shit,” Stan muttered.  “He made that face earlier.”  Ford wheezed loudly.  “Did you really lick yourself enough that you have to do this again?”  Ford wheezed twice more.  “Come on, Ford, don’t-”  With a loud hack, Ford coughed a hairball onto the flecked linoleum.  “Dammit, Ford.”  Ford mewed quietly.  Stan grunted in displeasure.  “Now I gotta clean it up.”

              “Use a paper towel, dear,” Angie said.  Stan nodded.  He grabbed a few sheets of paper towel from the roll on the counter.  When he knelt next to Ford to clean up the hairball, Ford let out another soft meow.  Stan looked at him.

              “You all right?” Stan asked.  Ford looked down.  “I’m not angry at you.  Cats can’t help coughing up hairballs.”  Ford meowed again.  Stan frowned. “You know you can speak English still, right?”

              “Today, it’s the most embarrassing thing I’ve done,” Ford muttered. “Coughing up two hairballs, not merely one.”

              “Oh.”  Stan paused. “You gotta do it, you gotta do it, right?  Same reason Angie got you a scratching post and a litterbox.  You’re a cat.  Cats do this stuff.”  Ford’s eyes widened.  “…You didn’t know Angie got you a litterbox.”  Ford shook his head.  “If you tried to use the pot, you’d fall in.”  Ford looked away.  “We’re gonna put the litterbox in the guest room, okay?  The girls don’t go in there ‘cause they think it’s haunted.  You’ll get some privacy.”  Ford looked pointedly at the hairball.  “Yeah, I can’t do anything about you hacking up hairballs in front of people.  You’ll have to figure it out on your own.”  Stan shrugged.  “Just hide when you feel like you’re gonna do it.”

              “I suppose I can try to run off next time.”

              “Exactly.”  

              “Here,” Angie said, setting down Ford’s food dish again.  It had a mixture of dry and wet food.

              “I thought it was just gonna be dry food,” Stan said.

              “It was, but then Ford was cute and sad,” Angie said.  Stan scratched the top of Ford’s head.  Ford started to purr.  

              “See?  Things are already looking up for the world’s nerdiest kitten.”