#His name is Big Dipper

[pushing500]

A baby thrumbo!!!!! It’s so small???? I’ve never seen one in the game! I love him so much! Look at him!!!

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[foundnthestars]

went back and retconned the twins' parents' names because it's pretty limiting to have unnamed characters in any fic, and i got sick of writing "the kids' parents" everytime one of the grunkles refers to them.

that and i've recently thought up a headcanon that hasn't left my mind since it was thrust upon me. dipper and mabel's mom's name is mary, and that's why she was so keen on dressing baby dipper up as a lamb and making him do the "lamby, lamby dance."

'cause mary had a little lamb :,)

[emmebearpaw]

accidentally woke my mom up because she thought I was breaking into the house but. The stars, so visible tonight.

[bittersweet-jack-of-no-trades]

Dipper knew that his grunkles switching places was necessary to defeat Bill, but--- Dipper hadn't been able to tell them apart. It distresses him, that he confused the two, that he wasn't smart nor observant enough to pick up on their trick. These were his grunkles, his family--- the same things happened with Wendy and the shapeshifter, too, he had to rely on her to be clever enough to give him a sign. He can't be tricked again--- what if the shapeshifter comes back? What if Bill comes back? What if the inevitable next big bad is also an impersonator, a trickster, a disguise artist?

He starts to catalogue the minutia of his loved ones. Stan has a small scar through his left eyebrow, and walks slightly canted to the right because of his bad knee. Ford has a series of faint scars, like repeated scratches, over his hands (which always have a faint tremble to them) and always stands stiff-backed and aware of his surroundings. Mabel pitches up the end of her sentences, and has to sleep with a night light. Wendy has a stick-and-poke tattoo, poor and faded, on her right ankle; Soos holds a screwdriver like a chopstick when he's thinking about a tough problem. Waddles has a mark on his left haunch like a My Little Pony cutie mark.

He starts a journal, not for anomalies but for details. He leaves codes and symbols for himself so an imposter couldn't use his notes to become a more realistic copy. From an outsider's perspective, it would surely look erratic, insane, messy, but that's the point. A feeling he can't name, has never felt before, creeps in, unsettling and persistent and insidious--- what if the enemy is already among them? What if he hadn't noticed, because he wasn't good enough, wasn't discerning enough, wasn't a good enough brother/friend/nephew/person? He stops sleeping, eating, gets quiet. His family becomes concerned, but he can't tell them the truth--- what if someone is watching? Listening? Looking for weaknesses?

He stumbles into his room one night to find Ford reading his journal. He thinks, at first, that the downturn of Ford's mouth is a sure sign of a shapeshifter, because he's never seen his grunkle make this face before; but, no--- this look on Ford's face is horror, and terror, and guilt. Similar to how he looked when Stan's memories were erased, but even more personal. More like... more like Ford knew exactly what Dipper was feeling.

"Dipper," Ford says, even-toned but not enough to conceal his concern, "we need to have a talk about paranoia."

[benetnvsch]

been rlly sick these past few days but !! Made his ref finally :) my silly guy,,,,,,

this is a more general ref for him versus Kitson's highly specific AU one which,,, whoops,,, good for him...

In The AU that Kitson's ref is from, Koi is the son of the guy Kitson is trying to hunt down (a bit awkward) and Koi himself is a type of vigilante and the two work in a reluctant type of team to try and find his dad

[hasnomoxxie]

Could you tell us more about Dan from Levity Rises?

YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND HOW LONG I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO ASK ME AB LEVITY RISES

I recently updated the designs for them so I'll talk ab them all if you don't mind :]c

I'll add the most information on Dan though just for you bbg!

I do plan on making a few screenshot redraws (and potentially an intro animatic because an awesome person actually made a theme for this au)

THE MYSTERY TWINS ⇆ THE ORIGINAL MYSTERY TWINS

Stanley and Stanford Pines take on the roles of Dipper and Mabel! Stan's curious and is the more mystery focussed one whereas Ford is more energetic and active than his base counterpart.

Stanley is an adventurous young boy, looking for the next interesting trip to go on, initially thinking spending the summer at Levity Rises was going to be a waste of time. Though after arriving and finding the scrapbooks alongside the anomalies happening across Levity, he and his brother quickly became obsessed with finding out the secrets of the Rises, as well as who the mysterious Smile Pup(swapped with bill cypher) is.

Ford (often going by 'Six' or 'Sixer) is a happy go lucky and optimistic young child who is alot tougher than his base counterpart was at his age. Since it's typically only just been him and his brother, so he's eager to make the best of his summer by meeting new people, though he hides his polydactyly with gloves he changes frequently.

DIPPER ⇆ STANLEY

Dipper takes the role of Grunkle Stan in this au!

Owner of the mystery shack, Grunkle Mason- or (Big) Dipper to people around Levity Rises- is the resident faux scientist of the town. His personality is more eccentric, tending to get hyper fixated on paranormal paraphernalia, to the point in where he does lock himself away for periods at a time.

Not much is known about his origins, he just kind of always existed on the outsidea of the town, but after opening the shack to the public, people quickly accepted his presence due to his quirky personality.

MANLY DAN ⇆ SOOS

Dan actually takes the role of Soos in this au, being the resident handyman of the mystery shack! Though often the lines blur between his role and Wendy's from the original. Wanted to keep it flexible yk?

Dan's a real dude's bro, pretty dim witted and blunt but often chill and level headed- Unless he's challenged- dude's competitive as hell, it's actually crazy. His mother, dubbed 'womanly wendy', is the toughest lady in town, owning a diner, aptly named 'Wendy's'.

Dan enjoys working at the Shack as it's one of the few places that'll let him freely experiment with his logging with the nearby trees for his own projects and adding fixtures onto the shack, which Dipper is pretty thankful for since he can focus his efforts on other things. It's also because of this reason that Dipper puts up with Dan's outbursts and semi airheaded personality. So it's safe to say, he's there the majority of the time.

Stan admires Danny alot and the events of 'Into the bunker' happens with Dan in place of Wendy. This does mean Stan had a passing crush on Danny during the episode, but even afterwards Stan kind of puts him on a pedestal. Ford enjoys Dan's company often being called 'little man' and playfighting on occasion. The twins act like his little hype men and he enjoys hanging with them.

As for Soos in this au, he initially built the mystery shack and is frequently seen around Levity Rises taking on odd jobs and making people as happy as they can be, though it's implied that he hasn't found his true calling yet.

LAZY SUZAN ⇆ WENDY

Lazy Suzan takes the role of Wendy in this au! Hazy Jane is a part time worker at the mystery shack, and is stan's first crush upon arrival to the Rises. She's a bit of an odd soul with a less than perfect memory, but is incredible at making a homely environment for the shack. Despite that, she can be extremely co-dependent in some situations, especially with her boyfriend. Otherwise she's earnest and does her best at her job. The events of 'Soos and the real girl' occur with Jane instead of Soos (and Rumble instead of GIFanny). Despite wanting to help, Stan is incredibly pouty throughout the episode.

Here's the design line up as well as initial notes I made when redoing them!

Hope this answered your question about Dan :]

RAUGH THANKS SO MUCH FOR ASKING THOUGHHHHHH

(EDIT)

SOMEONE SUGGESTED A BETTER SWAP FOR BILL, I JUST HAD TO ADD IT!

(EDIT EDIT)

I'm fixing wording and stuff so it's easier to read soz :p

[thatonegayship]

What Bill wants for his big day:

So Bill doesn't have a birthday sure, but is there some sort of Bill Cipher Day? Demonic celebration?

..and if so, does dip know?

Oh man, there probably is! Bill's absolutely the kind of guy to have a whole Day Of Celebration devoted to himself. Likely it's not on any sort of earthly calendar basis, too, so it'll come up at some time when Dipper least expects it.

Because, c'mon. Bill's fantastically knowledgeable - but he's absolute shit at filling Dipper in on important information beforehand.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Spring’s Coming

cw: fluff, poly!marauders having supper outside as spring comes in, reader and sirius team up and fluster remus, just sweet coupley fluff!

“Are we having supper out here?” James asks as he opens the sliding door to your back garden and finds you and Remus sitting curled into each other staring at the sky.

Remus has been whispering to you about the constellations and when you can see which ones and where.

“It’s the first night of actual spring, Jamie. Can we please?” You ask, turning to him and finding two steaming bowls in his hands.

“Doesn’t bother me, angel.” James hands you a yellow bowl and a green one to Remus, inside is porridge with all the fix ins - a spoon of yoghurt, what smells like cookie butter in yours and peanut in Remus’, a handful of frozen blueberries and a drizzle of honey.

“Do you have a preference, Moons?”

“It would be nice to sit out, the flowers are coming up too, smells nice.” He shifts a little to accept the bowl. “Thank you Jamie.” Remus hums, kissing his forearm where it stretches.

He shrugs, his dimple poking out. “Siri come out here! We’re having supper under the stars.”

James makes it far more romantic than either you or Remus had intended but when Sirius comes out with two more bowls and a blanket cape, it certainly feels so.

“Here y’go Jamie boy,” James’ porridge has the same fix ins as Remus and you can only assume protein powder lest he fall under this rugby season, his bowl is orange. “Shove over, Rem.”

Remus rolls his eyes as Sirius sits beside him, “You’re so romantic when you wish to be.” He says sarcastically and Sirius only takes a sticky bite of his supper.

Sirius’ bowl is a grey that looks purple sometimes and his has cereal flakes on top, honey drizzles and blueberries.

He and James flank you and Remus and the blanket is draped over everyone. The sky is nearly black from how dark it is, but the pretty thing about that is the stars that litter it.

You can see Orion’s Belt, Cassiopeia, and the Big Dipper- Remus can tell the others better than you.

You can hear crickets coming out, and a little rustle between your bushes every now and again, which you can only hope are bunnies.

“This was a good idea, poppet.” Sirius murmurs through another bite.

You smile, “I’m not so sure it was an idea more than it was me and Remus getting distracted.”

Remus chuckles, thumb reaching over to you to wipe away a bit of milk at the corner of your mouth.

“I was only telling about the constellations.”

James smiles, “You get into it though Rem, feels wrong to stop your ramblings.”

Remus’ blush blazes through the scars on his face and he looks even more endearing for it.

Sirius grins, any chance to make any of his loves red and he’s a hound with a scent. “Would you care telling about the,” he snaps his fingers like he can’t remember. “What’s the right name for that multiheaded one?”

You giggle when Remus goes redder, even more so when he hides his face in your shoulder. “The Hydra, Siri. We might not see it for a few days though.”

You ruffle his hair, “So smart, baby.” He nips your shoulder in retaliation making you shriek and turn into James.

“Would you be able to map it, for us? So we now how to spot it?” Sirius carries on and James feels pity for Remus’ whine.

“Would you like dessert Moony? We’ve got tea cake inside, precious.”

Remus jumps at the opportunity, collecting your now empty bowls eagerly making you and Sirius laugh.

“He’s gonna get us horribly well tomorrow.” You say as you curl into him when they leave.

“He might well get us tonight, poppet. Odds on us surviving?”

You’re quiet for a moment where you can hear James and Remus whispering inside. “Probably pretty low now that he’s romancing James.”

[sunburstsandmoonshadows]

Oh, I've seen it around! And I do!

There is a specific version of Relativity Falls that lives in my head, lol.

Instead of the Stan 'o War their joint dream is to become a director and a movie star respectively, and instead of a big blowout fight in senior year, Dipper and Mabel are separated because of their parents divorcing and then each taking a twin Parent Trap-style. (Because honestly if Mabel got kicked out like Stan you can't tell me Dipper wouldn't be running out of the house to join her then and there no matter what the catalyst was; he's protective of her in a way the Ford wasn't with Stan, not to mention the difference between a girl being stuck on the streets compared to a boy…)

Mabel eventually runs away from home to both achieve her starlet dream (goes… not so well, leading a checkered life that isn't as harrowing as Stan's but is still wild as hell) and to meet back up with Dipper. Unfortunately the info her mother gave her on Dipper's whereabouts/contact info is either out of date or just flat-out wrong. So they remain out of contact for a while until Dipper sees her on the tv and he haggles her into coming to live with him in Gravity Falls. Mystery twins shenanigans ensue!

One big thing about my concept for a Relativity Falls au is I think it would be really fun to reverse the forefont weirdness. There's a lot of magic in Gravity Falls but Ford is more of a sci-fi hero/mad scientist with a smidge of wizard. So in turn I think Dipper should be a wizard/alchemist with a smidge of mad scientist. Stan and Mabel similarly go from cryptid-focused con-man to witchy con-woman.

Taking it further, I think it'd be fun to either make the portal a magical one instead, or to straight-up not have Bill be the big bad because let's be honest here, the grown-up version of Dipper "world's most suspicious 12 year old" Pines would have one conversation with Bill and go "GOD you suck. Absolutely no deal, you Mr. Monopoly wannabe." and instead Dipper accidentally gets thrown out of his dimension by messing with… idk, this version of Gravity Falls' fae population or something. And that's how Mabel keeps the house--his real first name got stolen in the process so all they can tell is that it's a deed in the name of someone with an M. So, Mabel, they guess.

And then Mabel spends 30 years not only figuring out how to bring him back but waiting for like, the right astrological alignments to even bring him back.

[plaidos]

Sorry if this is going too far with turning your inbox into the children's cartoon complaint zone, but the stuff about Grenda in Gravity falls got me thinking.

I was a teenager when Gravity Falls was coming out, and it remains one of my favorite cartoons, but rewatching it recently made me uncomfortably aware of just how much mean-spirited and offensive comedy there is throughout. Grenda as a "comic relief" character is a huge one of course, but there's just a LOT of deriving comedy from people's bodies and appearances. Plus just straightforward man-in-a-dress jokes...

There's also the fact that Alex Hirsch seems to think AAVE (or like "slang" created to be a comically heightened imitation of AAVE) is the most hilarious thing ever, but also makes sure it's always coming from on-screen white characters, as if that unproblematizes the way it's mocked? It's a CONSTANT recurring thread throughout the series.

I ended up falling off a recent rewatch for a while after hitting the episode "Soos and the Real Girl." It really hit me there with the exact way they were characterizing Soos's social incompetence and "childish" interests, oh, he's straight up supposed to be autistic. He explicitly gets obsessed with the dating sim because he likes how social interactions have predictable rules in it, unlike real life. It's hammered home *multiple* times that one of his big stated social deficiencies is an inability to make eye contact, etc. Come the fuck on. And that's fine in a vacuum, the episode ends with everyone realizing he didn't need to change himself because he could still have value as a person as long as his awkwardness was charming to a quirky chubby woman.

But all the jokes in the episode are still about how funny it is that he's socially unaware and makes other people uncomfortable or frightened. And worse, it recontextualizes the way he's used as a joke throughout the rest of the series, the way he's portrayed as stupid, as a man-child, as being abused and taken advantage of by his employer while he's oblivious to it. It's just so gross. And that's not even getting into how he's also fat and Hispanic, and he's not just mocked but *dehumanized* for comedy CONSTANTLY.

Plus that episode throws in one of the show's transphobic jokes for good measure. Isn't it so funny that you can't tell if this person in alternative fashion is a man or a woman? Isn't it funny that Soos is so autistic-- I mean socially inept-- that he openly, in public, to their face, speculates on their gender? Not like for trans people that's a nightmare scenario that carries an implicit threat of violence or anything...

And all this is absolutely not to suggest that Gravity Falls is a uniquely harmful piece of media. I know for certain if you pick any network sitcom at random, before or even since Gravity Falls, you'd find way worse examples of all of this. But it's just a bummer to now be a grown-ass fat, autistic, trans woman who can recognize some of this stuff, and realize that even the media that's most special to me thinks it's funny to be hostile to people like me, that it's not really made for me. And to recognize that it's even worse for people who are marginalized in ways that I'm not.

Anon I’m in love with you — it’s like you went down a checklist in my brain of every complaint i’ve ever had about this show. i completely, completely agree with every note here — the jokes about AAVE specifically stood out to me, especially since there’s been at least one occasion where Hirsch went on a twitter rant about how (xyz aave) is the worst, stupidest thing to ever happen to the English language (meanwhile he thinks combining the words “Bill” and “Dipper” is funny enough to include as a joke despite it being just literally putting two names together. wooow how clever and funny white people are, thank god this caucasian braingenius is protecting the sanctity of the english language from black people who make up bad new words)

also dude can’t go five seconds without putting a white person in a “cowboys and indians” style native american costume. Hirsch has a fucking major problem with the way he treats his hispanic characters & how he portrays native american mythology & culture as basically this funny stupid thing to be used as set dressing for white people.

it feels a lot like he watched The Simpsons’ (sometimes effective, sometimes ineffective) satire on racism, bigotry, and the conservative tendencies in archetypical american towns and understood that it was funny but didn’t get why and just limply recreated the jokes without the structure for it to be a satire. not that the Simpsons doesn’t fall into these same problems with racism & body shaming, but i feel like they at least have a veneer of it being “isn’t it stupid how people like Homer think like this?” rather than just “haha different culture talk funny”

and the problem is, it sucks that it’s like this because it’s so good. it feels like every time i recommend it i have to be like “a lot of the jokes have aged like milk but it’s worth it”. like i love Gravity Falls. which is why it’s important to criticise it for its flaws.

[mooooonnnzz]

holy shit world/insure made me sob. would you consider doing a part two ? i’m imagining stan and ford telling dipper and mable childhood stories with the reader. they’re vague about it, saying stuff like “they aren’t here anymore” so the twins just think read died. then reading coming back through the portal and they connect the dots. omfg i’m obsessed with this concept.

Word/Insured Part 2

Stanford Pines x Sibling!Reader/Stanley Pines x Sibling!Reader

☆ GUESS WHO FINISSHHHEDDDD!!!

☆ this'll have 2 parts so it's easier to digest, since it's lawnngg so if it abruptly ends, that's just me splitting it

☆ 4,5k words

☆ gender-neutral reader

☆ possible tw: drinking to cope, mentions of suicide, gagging and descriptive chewing? and just angst

☆ srry this lowk kinda took long to write both keyboard and mouse just died on me when i was writing this so i had to find an old keyboard oops

☆ if this does well, i'm considering on making hcs of reader adjusting back to their home dimensions and diving deep into the twins n their trauma !!

☆ that's all. i hope you all enjoy! :3

✶ Stan and Ford hadn’t talked to each other since your disappearance. The anger and hatred that Stan held onto was enough to deter him from even granting a glance at Ford who tirelessly tried to get Stan to talk to him. He’d begin the conversation with ideas he’s thought through the night prior, ideas that most likely secured a chance on bringing you back. But Stan wanted nothing to do with him. His head was shrouded with your screams, the way you yelled out for Stan instilled such a soul-crushing guilt on Stan; he wasn’t sure he’d properly function as a normal human being after this. Not to mention, you and Stan were two peas in a pod, spending 10 years together after the collapse of their family truly brought the pair together, closer than they’d ever thought they would be. And now Stan is going through the same grief he felt when he was kicked out of the house, Ford doing nothing but sparing a sorrowful glance to him as he shouted for his brother, anticipating Ford to do something; to clean his name and everything would go back to normal. But instead, he turned his back on him. The situations were massively different but the pain was eerily still the same. 

✶ Stan would spend majority of his nights clutching your belongings close to his chest. He didn’t care if it looked weird, those were the only things that he had left of you at the moment. Nights were spent crying himself to sleep, envisioning different scenarios where he had caught onto your wrist and pulled you back to the ground, where it was safe, where he was there to protect you. He couldn’t let his mind linger on the idea of you being stranded in another dimension, helpless and lost, not knowing what to do or where to go. The mere thought of it sends his heart crumbling down to his palms, all shredded and shattered beyond repair. He was your big brother, he was supposed to protect you. To keep you safe from harm's way, he betrayed that very promise by leading you to the place where you were taken away from him too soon. And that alone gutted him. Ford would hear Stan sobbing into the night and all he did was lay there in his bed, submitting himself to the torture to hear his brother’s wretched cries. Because, this was his fault. Stan wasn’t shy to tell him that almost every waking moment of the day when he has the chance. The guilt haunts him.

✶ Verbal arguments were pretty common between the pair. Stan mainly started them when he was pulled out of the haze he was in and roughly back to reality. A reality where you weren’t around anymore and that irked him, because who else was at fault other than his idiotic brother? “Do you ever wonder how more lively this house would have been if ya hadn’t pushed [Name] inside the portal?” His tone was harsh. They carried thick venom to them, his words permanently burning their way into Ford’s brain. “Not this again,” Ford’s heart quivered. He had just recollected himself from yesterday's fight and now Stan wants to barrel through another one? Ford avoided Stan’s glaring eye contact. “Stanley, I told you many times before. I’m sorry! I’m sorry for screwing up, I’m sorry for being the reason why [Name] isn’t here anymore.” Ford’s head tilted back, his eyes staring longingly at the ceiling. “You don’t know how much this eats at me, Stanley.” He blinks away the tears threatening to escape, his head lowering back down to meet Stan’s fiery stare. “But I beg of you, please. Don’t hate me for it. I can’t lose you again, not after losing [Name].” The look in Ford’s eyes was something Stan would never be able to forget, no matter how hard he tried. He looked so broken, so shattered, the shell of someone who once was a prodigy at everything he touched was now crushed to bits; pieces of him scattered, lost to time. Stanley’s anger faded into a mellow irritation. Shifting his hands awkwardly on his chest, his face softened ever so slightly. “Fine,” He grumbled, rushing past Ford, their shoulders roughly rocking against each other. Ford sniffed, wiping the tears off his face. This was a new development. A spark of hope flickered in Ford. 

✶ Alcohol and cigars were Stan’s life vest. He’d rob a few packs of beer and down them within two days. It wasn’t healthy, but at least it distracted him from everything that was happening, right? Stan was pretty much drunk every day, and if he wasn’t, he was out on the porch smoking cigars, hoping that one day Ford would find him dead on the floor with beer cans surrounding him, his last moments spent thinking about how much he missed you. Stan wasn’t an angry drunk much to Ford’s surprise, considering how he spent his times where he was sober yelling at Ford, rather he’d rot away on the couch or floor, silently crying to himself in a puddle of his own tears. Many times Ford would have to pick up Stan, rest him on the couch and try to sober him up. And it wasn’t an easy task to do, picking up Stan with his weak arms was a workout for Ford. “Why couldn’t I save them?” Stank drunkenly babbled out, his head swaying side to side. “Don’t move too much, Stanley. You’ll give yourself a headache.” Ford warned, propping his head up with a pillow. “If I wasn’t so slow, [Name] would still be here.” Stan hiccups, his eyes glistening with tears. No matter how many times Ford hears Stan painfully talking about you, it still hurts the same and even more. “It’s not your fault, Stan.” Ford said, pulling a blanket up to his chest. “It’s not yours either.” Stan’s hand patted Ford on his face, thinking that it was his head. When Stan pulled his hands away, tears were streaking down Ford’s cheek. Hearing Stan tell him that it wasn’t his fault healed a piece of him and that quickly triggered the waterworks. “There, there, brother.” Stan patted Ford’s back as he sobbed into his hands. “It’s not my fault,” He repeated in loud sobs. “It’s not your fault.” Stan echoes. 

✶ Ford handled his grief and stress by huddling himself in the lab, isolating himself from Stan’s drunken state and researching his work. Trying to find loopholes that he can tie them close with a workaround, with a quick fix that would bring you back. Cans of beer were discarded around his lab, just the same as upstairs. But he wasn’t downing beers like Stan, he chugged one or two to dull out the ache in his heart, to keep it from distracting him. He knew when to stop and limit himself. He wasn’t dependent on alcohol. Sleep was something Ford considered useless. That would only distract him from his work, from his progress. Stan walked into the lab, puffing a gray smoke of air out onto the air. Your absence has bestowed so much despair onto the pair and he hadn’t realized until this very moment. Walking over to Ford, he placed a hand on his back. He was messily sleeping on top of his work, glasses hanging off his face, mouth open, drool dribbling down to his arms and paper. His dark circles were so dark and he was unshaven, chin stubbly with hair. Has he been getting any sleep? He wouldn’t know because he’s always drinking the day away. Stan internally groaned at himself. Not only has been neglecting himself, he’s been neglecting his brother. Burning out the cigar, he grabbed a blanket from upstairs and draped it over Ford. “Sleep tight, Stanford.” He said, gingerly squeezing his arm. Stan sat right next to him, wanting to keep him company and dozed off. When morning came, Ford awoke to Stan’s head colliding with his chair. For that one morning, Stan’s snores were music to his ears. 

✶ “S-Stanley!” Ford’s body lunges up from the couch when he sees Stan briskly pass by him and into the kitchen. “I-I’ve done some research and I-I think I found a way to get [Name] back!” He stumbles over his words, the lack of sleep weighing heavily on his foggy brain. The only thing that is keeping him up as of now is coffee he had been taking in shots for the past few days. The way he moves is fidgety and erratically and Stan takes notice of that. Pouring a cup of coffee for himself in a mug, he leans his back against the counter. “You need sleep, Stanford.” He brings the rim of the mug to his lips, his eyes never leaving Ford’s trembling figure as he takes a big gulp from his coffee. Ford couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Stan spoke to him! It was measly four words, but that’s more than he has ever said in the past five months, that wasn’t angry nonsensical words that were being thrown at him or depressing drunken babbling. “No, there’s so much to be done.” Ford runs a hand through his unkempt hair. “You need to hear me out. We need to find the other two–” Stan shushes him. “I won’t talk to you until ya sleep, Stanford. Don’t you bother trying to back out from this.” He looks at Ford with a stern expression, almost the same one Mom wore whenever he warned Ford to not do anything stupid in the backyard with Stan. “B-But!” Stan doesn’t hear his weak objections, he’s already out of the kitchen before Ford can conjure a good enough excuse. With a groan, Ford trips over his own feet while he makes his way back to the couch. Pushing all his research and books off the couch and onto the floor, he topples over the couch. When his head crashes on the soft plush of his sofa, his body automatically shuts off, revealing how dangerously tired he was. His eyes fluttered close and it didn’t take long for him to crash out on the couch. Stan came in to check on Ford and was pleasantly pleased to see his twin at last getting the rest he deserved. 

✶ Clinking his fork idly on the ceramic plate, Stan watched Ford make breakfast. Originally Stan was going to prepare breakfast, but Ford saw he was cooking and pushed him out of the kitchen, telling him that it was “his treat,” Stan couldn’t even utter a single word to him. He just wanted simple scrambled eggs and toast and now he’s left to fear for his life as Ford concocts a science experiment for his breakfast. “And for you breakfast, Stanley.” Ford swoops in, leaning forward as he shuffles the plate of food onto the table. “Scrambled eggs and buttered toast,” Ford smiles knowingly, placing his breakfast down. He had the same breakfast but the crust of his toast was cut off. “I don’t even know why I doubted you.” Stan scoops up the scrambled eggs with his fork and shoves it in his mouth with giddy excitement, a display of emotions Ford hadn’t seen in over 10 years. Who knew a simple breakfast would get him so happy? “Still being a baby about the crust?” He points to Ford’s crustless buttered toast with his fork, mouth muffled with food still being chewed in his mouth. Ford cringes at the sight of mashed up food in Stan’s mouth, suppressing a gag as he nods his head. “Chew your food before talking, Stanley! We’re not kids anymore.” He rasps out, his palm covering his mouth, his body shuddering with full body heaves. “Alright, alright!” With a loud gulp, he swallows his scrambled eggs. “Happy now?” Said Stan with a roll of his eyes. “Maybe not,” Using his other hand, Ford pushes the plate of eggs away. “Don’t want to eat anymore,” Stan shrugs, pouring the scrambled eggs on the plate. “More for me!” As Stan is chowing down on his eggs, Ford regains his composure. Though, he couldn’t watch Stan eat his eggs without the image of the yellow goopy food in his mouth so he averted his gaze to his hands. 

✶ “[Name] sure had grown up the last time I saw them.” This was Ford’s feeble attempt at sprouting a conversation with Stan, but he soon regretted what he said when he realized the fragility of the topic. Stan blinks, stunned. A beat passes and Ford’s ready to divert the conversation to another topic when Stan replies with a weird look on his face Ford can’t quite catch. “Well, yeah,” Stan looks off to the side. Ford lets out a breath of relief, Stan wasn’t upset at the mention of you. “They left with me when you and Dad kicked me out and we haven’t seen each other since then.” There’s a distant look in his eyes when he speaks, his words carrying a light anger to them ever so slightly. “How were th–” Stan shoots up, the chair skidding behind him. “Just because we’re all chummy now doesn’t mean you get to ask all about [Name].” The sudden shift in his emotions slapped Ford right in his face. “I’m sorry.” Ford whispers. Stan clicks his tongue, uttering to himself before shaking his head. “No, I’m sorry.” Stan rubs the sides of his head with his fingers. “Let’s not talk about them right now, okay? I don’t think I’m ready yet.” Stan pulls the chair to him and sits down. He rests his head on his fist, eyebrows pinched together with a long frown on his face. “I didn’t mean to blow up on ya like that.” Stan looks Ford in the eyes, and he could see the sincere sadness swimming in his eyes. “It’s okay, Stanley. Why don’t we talk about what you do for a living?” With that, they eased themselves into a comfortable conversation, with a few hiccups here and there, but in the end, the twins both had a soft smile adoring their faces.

✶ The repairing of the portal was a stepping stone that repaired Ford’s and Stan’s relationship. They weren’t going to lie and say that their relationship now was perfect, they still had their moments of anger and differences, but with a lot and a lot of patience, their bond was soon regaining its spark. “Whaddya think, poindexter?” Stan slapped a sloppily written plan on how to fix the portal in front of Ford. “What is this?” Ford looked at the piece of paper like it was garbage. “A plan to fix the portal, isn’t it obvious?” Stan snatched his paper back up, eyes speedily reading his work, doubting his work. “Stanley, that is unnecessary. I have the blueprints to fix the portal.” Discarding his plan, he slapped his hands enthusiastically, rubbing them together. “Alright! So where are they?” Ford sucks in a breath. “In the other journals.” Stan nodded his head slowly, as if that information was already obvious. “And where are the other journals?” Ford coughs into his fist, speedily saying; “I hid them.” Stan looks at him weirdly. “Can’t we just unhide them?” Ford rubs a hand up against his prickly cheek. “That’s the thing. I may or may not remember where I hid them.” Closing his eyes, he braced for the gust of angry yelling. “you WHAT?!” Stan’s hands flew to the side of his head. “How do you forget where you put them?!” Stan made a mental note to mark down how many times Ford screwed up, so far he has two. He has a long way to go before he could be anywhere near Stan’s record. “I was in a flurry of panic! I wasn’t thinking straight.” Stan groaned, smacking his face with his hand. “Was it at least in Gravity Falls?” Stan had his fingers crossed. “Yes, obviously.” A triumph “Yes!” leaves Stan. “Okay, let’s get digging then!” 

✶ Stan severely underestimated how truly difficult it would be finding one of the books in a forest that seemed like it stretched out for miles. Every turn looks the same and whenever he’d think he’s making progress, he’s right back where he started, at least he thinks he is. Frustrated, he bangs his head on a tree. The sound of metal clanging rang in his ears and shook through the tree. He groaned, holding his head with one hand as he curiously examined the possible metal tree. “Stanley!” Ford came running to Stan’s side, panting heavily. He wasn’t used to running for more than 5 seconds, and that was evidently proven with his flushed face and out of breath wheezes. “This tree is metal,” Stan notes, taking a few steps back, winding his leg back and hammering his shoe into the tree. The tree simply shook, the metal sound nowhere to be heard. “What?” Stan can feel his brain heating up, he couldn’t make any sense of this. The tree he kicked felt like a tree, not some metal contraption. It was only when he knocked his head—An idea springs to mind. Leaning his head back, he slammed his head on the tree. Shocked noises sputter out of Ford as he watches Stan rub the sore spot in his head. “There’s something here,” He gestures to the general area where he smashed his head in. “I can see that!” Ford walks up to the tree, knuckles gently knocking on the metal plate that was disguised as a tree. His hands move around the tree, searching for a way to open the plate. His fingers snag on an elevated piece of tree and with his fingertips, he swings it open, revealing a control panel. The memories of constructing this rush to his mind. “I remember now!” He flips a switch, his head turning over to where the large log rested. In front of it, a patch of grass was pulled back to unravel the hidden place where book three was. Ford eagerly snatched the book in his hands, showcasing it to Stan. “Great job, Stanford!” He claps Ford’s back. “So where’s the other one, you remember?” Unfortunately for the both of them, Ford doesn’t remember. He had seemed to bury most of his memories after meeting Bill Cipher, anything beyond that point was an empty mess for him.

✶ With the two books in hand, they managed to tinker and repair the damage to their best efforts. After each exhausting night in the lab, he’d attempt to pull the lever in hopes that whatever they did that day would work and to their utter disappointment, it never dislodge from its spot. “Man,” Stan wipes his forehead with his forearm, sweat glistening on his arm. “For a brainiac like you, I would’ve never imagined you being terrible at building this!” Stan barked with a laugh. Ford scoffed, his attention laser focused on fixing a part of the machine. “How did you manage to build the portal in the first place?” Stan wondered, the flashlight he was using to help Ford see what he was doing began to steer away. “Stanley,” Ford snapped. “The light!” Stan jolted up in surprise, the light quickly going back to Ford. “Sorry,” He sheepishly said. “But seriously, how did you build this?” He looked at Ford curiously. “I had an assistant.” Ford mumbled, a leak of oil dotting his clothes. He hissed, grabbing a tool off the ground to fix whatever started leaking. “Had? What happened?” Ford hummed happily. He had fixed the leak. Placing the tool back down to the floor, he directed his attention to Stan. “He quit.” Ford scratched his head, unintentionally smearing oil on his cheek with his hand. “Why?” Stan tossed him a piece of clean cloth, silently motioning to his cheek. Ford took it, wiping his cheek with the cloth. “He, uh,” If Ford told Stan that he went inside the portal momentarily and came out completely traumatized, Stan would go berserk on him knowing that you went inside the exact portal that mentally ruined Fiddleford. Ford did not want to go back to the arguing and suffocating silence so he lied. “He just thought what I was doing was unethical.” That wasn’t a complete and total lie, but it was far from the truth. Stan bought the lie fortunately for Ford. “Glad at least someone had the brain to call a quits!” 

✶ Before they knew it, they were tremendously low on money. Stan was the unfortunate one to discover this revelation. On a quick supply run, Stan had gone to the grocery store and stock up on some food. When the cashier rang up him, totaling his price to 30 dollars, Stan had pulled out a penny, paper clip and a wrapper. Mentally cursing Ford for spending all his money on unnecessary science stuff, he weakly smiled at the cashier. “Can you hold onto my groceries for a quick second?” The cashier nodded their, a big bright smile on their face. “Of course, stranger!” And right when Stan was going to snag the groceries bags in his hurried rush, a woman spoke from behind him. “Hey, that’s no stranger! That must be the mysterious science guy in the woods!” She points, gathering a crowd around Stan. “Ah, no. That’s my nerdy twin brother.” Stan says, causing the crowd to coo in interest. “There’s two of them?” Someone in the crowd asked. “He probably cloned himself just so he could do two things at once!” Someone else said. “That’s probably what happened. I’ve heard strange stories about that old shack.” Toby Determined spoke up. “Yeah! Mysterious lights and spooky experiments!” Daryl added. “Gosh, I’d pay anything to see what kind of shenanigans you get up in there!” Pa said. Susan perked up at that. “Oh, me too! Do you ever give tours?” 

✶ A sly smirked pulled to Stan’s face. He had the perfect idea. “Yes, I do give tours! Ten…no-no fifteen bucks a person!” The crowd erupts in cheers, waving their green bills around. “Is it possible we get to see the man of mystery himself?” Susan questions. “Hmm, I’m not sure.” Stan eluded them to think that there was no possible way to get to Ford to gauge their reactions. And what they gave him sent adrenaline rushing through his veins. “You know what?” The crowd lightens up with hope. “Fifty bucks if you all want to see the man of mystery himself!” Another boisterous cheer from the crowd. “And what did you say your name was, twin of mister mystery?” Stan smiled proudly. “Stanley, Stanley Pines.”

✶ The crowd bustles into the shack, ooo’s and aaa’a left their mouths in awe of the place. “Step right up folks to a world of,” he pauses for a moment thinking. “A world of enchantment!” He gestures to all the wild findings. Grabbing a dial box with two antennae, he showcases it to the crowd. “Behold! The um, nerdy science box.” Susan looked at it with interest. The device rumbled to life and zapped her in the eye, rendering it closed. “Ah, my eye!” She covers her closed eye, stumbling back. “Uh, I can assure you, that is no way permanent!” He offers an uneasy smile. “I paid sixty five dollars for this!?” With Susan’s comment, the whole crowd erupted in complaints. Quickly thinking, he grabs a skeleton and makes a half-assed joke where the last customers didn’t make it out alive. The crowd laughs at his horrible joke and Stan smiles. “What is with all this ruckus?” Ford walks in, irritation evident on his face. “Is that him?” Someone excitedly shrieks from the crowd. “Oh my god, it is! Take my money!” Wads of dollar bills get thrown at Stan who was making a great effort to make sure he caught all of them. “Stanley, what did you do!”

✶ After answering a few questions he was coaxed into, (they stroked his ego), he kicked them out, accidentally saying that they could return another time before closing the door, smacking himself in the head. “What was that?” Stan turned over to Ford,  buckets of money shoved inside into his shirt. “I got us money! And look how much we got!” He pulls a ten dollar bill from his stack in his shirt. “Stanford, this the best thing that’s ever happened to us so far.” Ford looks at him, unsure. “I’m not a fan of ripping people off,” Stan’s hands fall to his sides. “It’s their choice to throw money at me like a madman. Listen, if we get more money, we can stock up on good materials to fix the portal, like really good parts and we can finally bring [Name] back.” Ford stewed in his thoughts for a little more. He hated to admit, but Stan was right. With a little more money, they could be sailing straight to victory with a higher chance of your return. Ford let out a defeated sigh. “Fine, but I don’t want you to mess with my stuff, got it?” Stan beamed brightly. “I promise!” He broke that later on. 

✶ Gradually, the scary shed in the woods turned into a tourist spot people would frequent. Together, they advertised the shack by plastering various signs and posters all over the woods. They even went as far to tape advertisements onto people’s windows. Ford wanted to use actual beasts he had found in the woods to show to people, but in the end they all ran away, horrified for their lives. Ford was respectfully peeved because when he’d glance over to Stan, he had somehow had the crowd hanging on to every word that spilled out of his mouth. And when he’d show the crudely sewed animal he had made within five minutes before the tour started, they all gasped in delight, their money flying to him. “How do you do it?” Ford asks as Stan closes the door, reveling in the pool of money he had made. “I just say whatever comes to mind.” Stan shrugs. “But none of your stories make any sense logically! How did they believe in a half beaver half bat?” He gestures to the taxidermy animal. The beady eyes were slowly sliding off its face, leaving a trail of glue. “Hey, the people love to spend their money on things that are obviously fake, weirdly enough.” The door rattles with a knock. “Wanna take this next crowd? I gotta sort this money.” Against his will, not really, Ford opens the door and flashes an award winning smile he had learned from Stan. Cash was already being shoved in his face. At least he earns money for looking good. Ford attempted Stan’s whole shtick and to his very surprise it worked! It wasn’t as good as Stan’s performance, but it worked well enough that people were swarming him with cash. His bitterness from before was quickly washed over and he continued on his act. When the crowd dispersed, satisfied with their tour. Stan was there in the middle, clapping widely. “That was some good acting there, Ford!” Ford smiled, waving him off. “Yeah, yeah. I’m only doing this cause we need the money.” 

Taglist: @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @lovexsage, @teddycricketdream, @theilluminatidragonqueen, @raventeen @cedarmoonzz if you wanna be added to my taglist, dm me or comment! <3

Next ->

[quartings]

The original Gravity Falls pitches and pilot just dropped!!

(Link for those who want it)

For those who don't wanna look through all of it, here are some highlights I found!

Interesting changes from the pitch (What Alex Hirsch showed Disney to make them greenlight the show):

Stan’s secret was that he’s secretly protecting the townsfolk from weirdness, nothing to do with Ford. No mention of Ford in the pitch at all. Stan also wanted Dipper and Mabel to be his successors in this version.

Mabel used to be the unhygienic one instead of Dipper.

Wendy was brunette and didn’t work as the Mystery Shack cashier, instead selling veggie juice out of her van.

As such, Soos (Jesús in this version) worked the register in addition to his handyman job in this version. He was a bit less of a hard worker here, watching telenovelas on the job sometimes, but still loves his job and is extremely loyal to Stan.

Robbie was almost exactly the same, parents’ backstory and all, but there’s an interesting note that he occasionally clashed with Gideon in this version (which we never got in the final show)

Speaking of which, Gideon’s last name in this version was Garrymore instead of Gleeful.

Gideon used to personally harass and prank Stan, going out of his way to vandalize Stan’s stuff himself.

Manly Dan was always planned to be Wendy’s dad. In this version, he hates the idea that his hipster daughter prefers conserving the environment instead of chopping down forests

(For those who wanted more Wendy episodes, I’m surprised Hirsch didn’t use this as a conflict for one of them- it makes her interesting without costing any of her “coolness”)

Sheriff Blubs was originally Sheriff “Blumps”. Durland has the same name likely because Hirsch said he’s named after a real guy.

With no Ford and no Journal mentioned, episodes were originally very different-

“The President’s Cabinet/Irrational Treasure.” Instead of via the journal, Dipper and Mabel find a record of Quentin Trembley in a box buried in the yard. No Pacifica mentioned here.

“Secret Dungeon” Dipper becomes obsessed with a recalled arcade cabinet. Mabel must try and save him by finding the original high scorer.

“Thtupid Thursday” One of the many ‘Shining Twins’ episode concepts Hirsch wanted to do. Dipper and Mabel learn ‘twin telepathy’ from some creepy twins, and soon regret it.

“Periodic Mabel” Mabel invents her own element for the science fair and Dipper is jealous.

“Only the Clonely/Boyz Crazy” The exact same episode just without Candy and Grenda. Sev’ral Timez is called “ReelBoyzzz” in this version.

“Big Dipper” With surprisingly no tie to Little Dipper, Dipper asks a fortune teller to make him older so he can win Wendy over. But she makes him 22, so he and Mabel have to undo the spell.

“Sweater off Dead” Mabel buys an antique sweater and is possessed by the soul of the granny who last wore it. Stan is terrified by the spirit because she reminds him of his ex-wife Marilyn (Deep Edalyn Clawthorne lore???) so Dipper must “Swexorcize” his sister and save her.

“Teed Off/The Golf War” With no Pacifica, this was originally a Dipper vs Gideon episode- No Lilliputtians, either. Instead, the 13th hole is cursed and traps the cast in a time loop.

Now, changes from the Production Pitch (I’m guessing for when the show was already greenlit and this was a way to brief crew members on what the show would 100% be about)

Stan’s secret (likely the portal) and the journal are now set in stone.

Emphasis on continuity and character development. Nothing gets “reset” by next episode. All plot developments are permanent.

All character names and designs are locked in. Pacifica has now been added, as well as Waddles, Gompers, Lazy Susan, Candy and Grenda, and McGucket (No mention or hint at his past here)

Interesting to note is that there is still zero outright mention of Ford and Bill in this version, even though multiple episodes were seemingly in production at this point.

Manly Dan’s conflict with Wendy from the original pitch is still here. Making it even more mindblowing that we never got it in the show

Blubs and Durland are described as a little more playful instead of mean like in the original pitch.

All episode examples made it into the show with no changes this time. They are Tourist Trapped, Legend of the Gobblewonker, Fight Fighters, Boyz Crazy, and The Land Before Swine.

[year2000electronics]

HERE THEY ARE! here's what everyone would be in my own take on monster falls!! you can agree or disagree, it's just me having fun with it :]

my general lore for the au itself would be that the town of gravity falls is cursed, and if you stay there long enough, you get turned into a monster. most people have some reason not to leave before it's too late and the curse becomes permanent, other just give up and let it happen

monsters under the cut!

dipper: deertaur (unchanged from popular fan choice)

mabel: unicorn (unchanged from sorta-popular fan choice)

stan: gargoyle (unchanged from popular fan choice)

ford: mothman (chosen for being a cryptid, ford has mentioned moths multiple times, mothman being a "shadowy figure", stan being able to pass himself off as ford when you see them both in the dark

soos: fairy (chosen for the irony- he has canonically killed a fairy! and also that he calls everyone "dude" when fae usually take names, fae are usually tricksters but he winds up being very helpful around the shack)

wendy: ghost (chosen because she's related to archibald corduroy, the northwest mansion ghost, also that she's "non-commital" to her job and constantly vanishes from it, also ALSO that her first big episode was themed around ghosts!)

gideon: haunted doll/puppet (chosen because he has creepy doll vibes, and puppets are often associated with performance- think puppet shows, pinocchio, ventriloquist dummy- haunted dolls and living puppets also have a common theme of something childish getting a mean streak.) (also, bud would be a fox in this au as a reference to honest john)

pacifica: dragon (chosen for the northwests' miserly behavior, hoarding of treasure, and pacifica's fiery tongue)

mcgucket: robot (chosen for mcgucket's affinity for robotics, and also for the idea that once he starts using the memory gun, he starts corrupting/mass erasing his own technology and has to repair himself using junkyard scraps)

robbie: cherub (he dyes his wings black to seem like some sort of dark angel. chosen for his last name, his hoodie, and his parents' chipper demeanor. they're a family of morticians who choose to spread the love by burying couples next to each other)

"billy-bob cipher": a vessel bill specifically crafted to hunt the monsters in gravity falls. he went with the idea of a greasy redneck hunter, because that would be the form people would be least willing to argue with about carrying a bunch of guns and traps around.

[jinxthequeergirl]

The Ol Switcharoo (pt5)

Stan x reader / ford x reader

Summary: you are forced to question the life you've lived for 30 years.

Warning: none

☆anyone on my tagliatelle who isn't seeing this when I Tag them let me know ik I've been having problems tagging a few of ya'll

~~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~

"I'm feeling little over dressed for the occasion." You said stepping into the kitchen wearing one of your best outfits for the date Mable had prepared for you and Stanford.

Stanford stood in the kitchen with a smile. "Are you kidding!? Look at'cha, you're stunning!" Stanford said you smiled as he reached out a hand and guided you to the table, pulling out your seat before pushing you in and sitting down himself.

Mable insisted your first date be at home, Dipper and Soos dressed to a T in fancy waiter outfits the table set with the nicest/ least stained tablecloth in the house. And Mable in a chef hat.

"I promise to take out out somewhere real nice." Stanford whispered as Mable scooped whatever she had on the stove onto plates. You chuckled in response before Dipper and soos presented you with the meals.

Your eyes widened. You looked at Stanford mouthing a thank you for the real date dinner in advance. Stanford managed to get you away from Mable and Into the car for some real food.

"Most fancy places are closed for the night. The best I can offer is burgers." He said, driving down the quiet road. "I love Mable, but anything is better than that." You both laughed. Eventually, you had your food as he pulled up to the lake, and you both sat and ate. Talking Like two teenagers on a first date.

For the following weeks, you found your rooms were now shared, and mornings and evening were greeted with quick kisses. It was a new routine you found yourselves falling into. Mable noted that stan was "a lot less grunkler" since the change. Even when everything was crazy it still worked.

After everything in your lives had finally calmed down, after saving the shack, repairing it, a Zombie apocalypse. You found the house was silent with what felt like the first night of peaceful sleep.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Y/n! I have been trying to reach you for a while!"

The voice that pulled you from your sleep boomed loud enough to startle you awake. You sat up in bed seeing the world around you was greyscaled Stanford fast asleep next to you and a familiar glowing freak above you.

His single eye staring down at you.

"Wh...will?..what are you doing here?"

You asked, sitting up as you did the world around, turned up right, causing you to slide straight out of bed into a chair. "Relax, we're in your dream, and the names BILL though I can't say I blame you, I was a complete and total secret but trust me y/n I know all about you."

You stared at him squinting, you where far to tired to understand what he was saying to you right now.

"What do you want?"

"A truce, I came to apologize for breaking into stans mind and almost killing shooting star and pine tree. And to warn you."

"Warn me?"

"Something big is coming something that will change your life! And I want you to know I'm on your side."

"On my side? Bill, I don't understand what you are talking about!"

"Trust me, you will, and when you do, you'll want a friend to be there for you, I'm offering myself for when everything you know changes. By the way, how well do you really know that stan?" He asked, pointing to Stanford asleep in bed.

"That stan?" You turned back, but as you did, you shot up in bed, clutching a piece of paper, breathing heavy. You looked down at the paper that looked like it had been torn out of something.

"Contact me, BFF!" Was scribbled across the top, and twoard the bottom was a cipher and some sort of incantation. You still fought to catch your breath. Your hand moved to shake Stanford awake, but your hand fell straight through the air and hit the empty space of your mattress.

"Stanford?"

That was a couple of weeks ago. You had folded up the page and tucked it under your mattress, trying to forget about the whole thing.

But every know and then you would get this hotrible feeling, you started to look at stanford weird and did your best to shake off the feeling. Luckily, Stanford had promised to take you out to dinner just the two of you. He told you he had something important to tell you.

"Aaahh, what if he asks you to marry him!?" Mable said excitedly from behind you as you had let her brush your hair. "I highly doubt that. You said clipping your last earring into place.

"Dipper! Doesn't y/n look beautiful! Grunkle stans going to ask her to marry him!" You rolled your eyes and looked at dippers worried face in the mirror.

"What's wrong?" You asked, turning around and crouching to his level. "Y/n There's something important I want to share with you I wanted to come to you first but I went against my better judgment and told stan first now i know you where the right choice."

"Of course you know you can tell me anything, dipper."

"OK you know about how strange and unusual gravity falls is." You nodded thinking to every monster, dinosaur, and ghost you had encountered with the twins even recalling some of the stuff from when you were young. Then the feeling set in again.

"Something big is coming something that will change your life as you know it!"

Rang out in your head. You wondered if what Dipper was about to tell you had anything to do with this. "Ah, c'mon dipdip can't this wait till after y/n and stan get home?" Mable asked, appearing from behind you now covered in makeup. Dipper rubbed his arm. "I guess..."

"Are you sure, Dipper? I can listen." He nodded. "OK, I'll see you in a few hours, ok?" You said ruffling his head. "Call if anything happens.

That was an hour ago already. You sat nervously at the restaurant Stanford promised to meet you at after he finished a few things up at the shack.

You tapped your glass and counted cars as they drove past the window you were sat by and looked at the gifted (more like lifted since it was a stolen antique store in portland) watch on your wrist and saw how late it was getting.

You sighed, resting your head on the table, watching the water droplets race down your glass. And you watched as the glass went up as the hair that fell around your face go cup as well. You pushed yourself up only to find yourself lifting out of the chair into the air before crashing back into your booth.

You paused only for a moment, trying to wrap your head around what that might have been, then ran to call the Pines family.

There was no answer for a long time you hung up and refilled several times before giving up. You grabbed your things and raced to the shack only being stopped by the same phenomenon as before.

Was this part of what Bill was trying to tell you about? Where are Stanford and the kids ok? So many thoughts raced through your head as you ran as fast as you could home.

"WHY would they call him unnamed!?"

"Unless stan isn't really stan"

The two kids looked up at the large painting of their great uncle on the wall behind them in horror.

"But there has to be some explanation as to why he would have all these fake ID'S and why that news paper says he's dead." Mable said trying to rationalize as Dipper continued to pull things from the box

"What about Y/n!? Is y/n even y/n!? What if she's in on this!?"

"In on what?" You asked pushing open the door.

The kids both screamed at your appearance.

"Are you kids ok!? Where is your grunkle and...what is all this?" You asked stepping further into the room to get a better look at what they had laid out on the floor in front of them.

In a different universe, Stanford Pines was an honest man. In a different universe, he didn't lie or cheat. He showed up to his date on time, there was no weird gravital anomalies interrupting your day.

You thought about this alternate reality as you stood over the fake IDs, news paper clipping, pass ports, the screen from the shack security cameras glow portraying a man you only assumed to be Stanford pines carrying gallons worth if toxic waste into the gift shop.

"What is this?"

You asked staring down at it afraid to move. "Is this why there are government vehicles surrounding this place?"

"You mean you don't know why stand has all this?" Dipper asked.

You shook your head.

In another universe, Stanford agreed to visit your family, even to just get away with you. In that same universe, he never changed, you where still hunting monsters and doing science stuff. In that same universe, you move out of the shack into a lovely home you share together, you teach together, and you live a beautiful and adventurous life. And he was still your Frodsy.

You didn't realize, but there was a ringing in your ear that tuned out the two children as they talked. All you could do is let time pass as your brain tried to work out yet another explanation.

Then Mable found the code.

"This isn't like any code I've ever seen before." Dipper said.

"The vending machine." You said quietly.

Your body had a mind of its own as you followed the twins to the vending machine in the giftshop.

"How well do you know that stan?"

This had to be what Bill meant by "that stan"

Without thinking, you typed the code into the vending machine as the kids distracted and fought off Soos, Without thinking...

"He swore he blocked this off..." You going down the stairs you hadn't seen in 30 years.

You felt as though you could throw up. Whe. You saw what was going on in the basement, the portal up and running, and with only a few moments to go. "So this is what's been causing problems... this is where he's been going!?" You half shout half say to the room.

You stare down at the desk seeing two familiar red journal. "The journal..." You and Dipper say at the same time.

"You know about these?" You ask in unison again.

"Your grunkle and I wrote them? How do you know about these?"

"When I said I wanted to tell you something." You watched Dipper pull a third journal from his vest.

"Grunkle stan wrote these?" Mable asked when you took the journal from dippers hands opening all of them to reveal the blueprints for the portal that sat in the room adjacent the one you stood in.

"What is it?" Dipper asked, looking at the pages. You glanced up at the timer and suddenly felt yourself fliat back into your body and realization kicked in "We have no time.We need to shut it off now. Kids stay here. Soos come help me. " You moved quickly. "We can help!"

"No! Please just stay safe! If your grunkle gets back, do NOT let him out of this control room!" You ordered them.

You and soos worked quickly enough to turn off the emergency kill switch just like you rememberd doing years ago. You felt a million emotions trickling inside you. Most of all, you felt angry that he would lie about keeping the portal, lie about working on it, and keep you out of it.

You scanned the room as the portal whipped your hair around you finally spotted it.

30 years never felt more wasted than it did in this very moment the moment it took you to walk from the key switch all the way to the shiny red button.

"Y/n Wait!" You frozen looking over at Stanford in the door way as the kids and now soos pushed him back.

"Don't touch that button, please!"

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!"

the kids couldn't hold him any longer, and he pushed past them running to meet you only to stop halfway, noticing you inch closer to the button as a defense. "Please! Just wait! Don't do anything! I can explain!" You watched Mable and Dipper get up. Dipper made eye contact with you as if he were trying to telepathically tell you something. It only took you spotting Mable trying to sneak around you for you to realize.

You stepped forward, pointing an accusing finger at Stanford. "After everything! You lied to me!? For how long!? When were you going to tell me? DONT YOU REMEMBER ALL THE HORRIBLE THINGS THIS THING HAS DONE!?" You asked poking him in the chest with a finger pushing him away from the button where Mable now stood.

"Yes! I wanted to tell you sooner! I was going to tell you today-"

"Today!? That's why you wanted to have dinner." You were getting off track. Before anyone could say anything else, your feet lifted off the ground, and you were in the air. "Now, Mable, press it now!" You heard Dipper yell.

"Mable, wait!" She froze as Stanford dove through the air for her as she gripped onto the pole.

Dipper soos and yourself took onto the task of catching him and pulling him away from her.

"30 YEARS OF NOTHING! STANFORD PINES! I CANT BELIEVE I WAISTED ALL THIS TIME JUST FOR YOU TO PULL A STUNT LIKE THIS!" He watched your angry tears roll down your cheek then up into the air around you.

"It wasnt waited, just hear me out all of you!" He plead as you held him against the wall. He stared you in the eyes a sad look met your furious gaze.

"I wanted to tell you all, your going to hear some bad stuff about me, some of it's true but believe me everything! Even this is for my family for a of you." He said the last part pointedly at you.

"Hit the button mable!" You yelled.

"Don't trust him!" Dipper followed up.

She looked around at everyone when her eyes locked with stanfords you knew what she was going to say

You quickly made a move to push it before her, but Stanford grabbed your hand and held you back. "I'm sorry! Trust me." You stared at him.

"I trust you grunkle stan!"

~~~~~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~~

@muffin1304

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[yan-randomfandom]

HIIIIIIII I love your writing alot!!!! Soo, I wanna request something:3

Maybe a Yandere Stanford Pines x GN reader who only saw him as a close friend? They became friends when they were still in high-school up to this day! (Yes, reader did sort of wait 30 years for Ford and never forgot about him)

Maybe just Stanford obsessing over Reader romantically, and Reader just think him as the greatest best-friend ever!!

I LOVE ONE SIDED PINNING OKAY????

Stanford Pines x GN!Reader

UM UH,,, IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG ANON— and it's something I'm not even proud of 😭😭

context btw; reader doesn't know about weirdmaggedon or fake death or entire lore, they dont tell them anything uhhh idk anymore

You took the bus to Gravity Falls! Stanley reached out to you after decades of not having contact. It was a bit sudden, but there's no way you're going to ignore his call.

Stanley Pines was the first man you saw when the Mystery Shack's door opened. Wrinkly, exhausted widened eyes looked at you in silence. He looked unprepared... kind of crusty musty... and very unhygienic.

"You look disgusting! I'm gonna hug you anyway!" you beamed, pulling him in for a big hug. Unwillingly, a strong whiff of his scent hits your nose. "You stink too! You haven't changed a bit, Stanley."

"Glad to know ya missed me," he laughed, giving you an affectionate noogie.

When Stan finally let you go, you looked up to see Ford. He stood in front of you, speechless as he stared into your eyes.

"...Ford," you grinned, walking towards him. In curiosity, you placed your palms on both his cheeks. He seemed to relax with your touch. "You changed a lot."

Your eyes, while they've wrinkled, are as warm as the day he last saw them. He smiled back, his large hand covering one of yours. Your smile widened when you saw his fingers. "And you aged beautifully."

Poetic as always! A laugh bubbled up your throat as you wrapped your arms around him.

He quickly returned the gesture, burying his face into your neck. He missed this. He missed you.

Your warmth didn't change. Fascinating.

"I missed you, man! How come you're such a silver fox now? Good for you!"

"I still have no idea what a silver fox is," he chuckled, already longing for you the second you pulled away from him.

Ford merely stood there for a few moments before he grimaced. Damn it. He still likes you, doesn't he?

It's been more than thirty years already. He thought he would have moved on, especially after the whole weirdmaggedon thing. Why would Stanley ever get the idea of calling you back here??

All of you now sat at the table with you in between the Pines twins. Mabel wore an apron, sophisticatedly offering you tea. The sweetheart made the recipe herself!

"So, how have you been doing these days?" Ford asked, resting his cheek on his palm. Every passing second with you, he gets reminded more and more of why he used to like you.

You are, after all, the first and only person to not call him any sort of names because of his hands.

"Oh, I mean, I've been financially doing well, and it's been a bit difficult to settle down with a partner... but," you blushed. "I think I finally found the one."

Ford coughed out violently, pounding a fist against his chest. He really shouldn't be surprised. He really shouldn't! You're bound to have found someone!

Get a grip. Fourty. Years.

...He truly had missed out on this dimension for such a long time.

...

The sky is dark. Dipper told you about the roof spot at the shack, and now you're here, thinking about life.

"Dipper said you'd be here," a voice murmured. You looked up and saw Ford walking up to you. Chuckling, you offered him a non-alcoholic drink.

"How many days will you be staying here again?" Ford asked as he sat next to you, sparing a small space between.

"A week at most," you shrugged, kicking your legs at the edge. Ford simply stared at you.

"I guess it'll be forever before we see you again, huh?" he mumbled.

You turned to him with a smile. "Of course not. You guys are invited to my wedding."

... Wedding.

A small huff left your lips. "We're so old now. I still remember being in high school and grouping up with you and Stan for a trio. Good times."

Ford continued staring at you.

"You guys are my best friends. Probably not now, I mean, been decades since we last talked. That reminds me, what made you call—"

Ford suddenly interrupted you with a hug.

"Woah, Fordsy, you miss me that much?" you laughed, hugging him back.

Don't call him that. His arms around you tightened.

You simply let him hug you.

It was such a long one.

And it only grew tighter by the second.

Like he never wanted to let you go again.

but his aim is getting better 🗣️

i love your idea so much btw, i too am a fan of one-sided pining.... the desperation yk.. I THINK I JUST SUCK AT WRITING FOR THAT WHAT 😟 (says the yandere blog)

[velvetvisionsaurora]

Pairing: Hongjoong x reader, Seonghwa x reader, Yunho x reader, Mingi x reader, Wooyoung x reader.

Summary: Five eight-year-old boys aboard the slave ship Crimson Serpent form an unbreakable bond with five-year-old y/n. before she's sold at auction. Despite their failed rescue attempt, they swear a blood oath on her teddy bear to find her. Fifteen years later, now feared pirates leading the ATEEZ

Warnings: Slavery/Human Trafficking, Separation/Loss, Violence, Eventual Smut. SA(not by any main characters) y/n gets switched to a real name but it has a purpose. More warnings to be updated.

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Masterslist

Chapter 1

The Crimson Serpent

The days turned to weeks as The Crimson Serpent continued its long voyage toward Halazia. The journey would take three months, sailing through treacherous waters and stopping at various ports for supplies. For five young boys and one little girl, these months would forge bonds stronger than blood.

Hongjoong: The Protector

Ten days after y/n's arrival, Hongjoong began sneaking her onto the deck at night. As navigator's apprentice, he had memorized the watch schedules and found a precious half-hour when the night watch changed, leaving the starboard side momentarily unattended.

"Look up," he whispered on their first midnight excursion, helping her climb the ladder with one hand while she clutched Mr. Hugs with the other.

Y/n's gasp when she emerged was worth the risk of punishment. Above them, undimmed by city lights or smoke, the stars blazed in magnificent profusion against the velvet sky.

"So many," she breathed, eyes wide.

Hongjoong smiled, settling beside her in their hidden corner behind a stack of secured barrels. "The navigator says they tell stories."

"What kind of stories?" She asks.

"About heroes and monsters and great journeys." He pointed upward, tracing patterns he'd learned. "See those stars that look like a pot? That's the Big Dipper. And those three in a row are Orion's Belt."

Night after night, weather permitting, they continued these secret stargazing lessons. Hongjoong taught her what he was learning from the navigator: how to find north, how to recognize favorable winds from cloud patterns, how the color of the sunset foretold tomorrow's weather.

"Pay attention," he told her seriously one night, pointing to a particular star formation. "If you're ever lost, that one will always help you find your way.

"But I'm not lost," y/n replied, her small hand finding his in the darkness. "I'm with you."

The simple trust in her voice made something protective unfurl in Hongjoong's chest. He'd been a captive for six months before y/n arrived, learning to look out only for himself. Now, watching her count stars with Mr. Hugs propped against her knees, he understood what it meant to be responsible for someone else.

One night during their third week, when she'd fallen asleep against his shoulder, he whispered a word he'd never used before: "Treasure."

Startled by his own utterance, he glanced down to make sure she hadn't heard. The nickname had formed without conscious thought—something precious to be guarded, something valuable beyond price. It fit her somehow, this small person who had awakened his protective instincts.

Over the following weeks, "Treasure" became his private name for her, used only in the quietest moments—when tucking a blanket around her sleeping form, when offering her the larger portion of whatever food he managed to secure, when creating a distraction so she could avoid the bosun's notice. Unlike her enthusiastic "Joongie!" that sometimes drew unwanted attention, his "Treasure" remained a whispered secret, a reminder of what he had vowed to protect.

When she fell asleep during one of their secret outings, head heavy against his shoulder, Hongjoong stayed perfectly still despite cramping legs. He watched shooting stars trace silver paths across the sky and made a silent promise to each one: he would find a way to keep his treasure safe.

Seonghwa: The Guardian

Seonghwa approached y/n's protection with the methodical precision that characterized everything he did. Within two weeks of her arrival, he had created a detailed mental map of the ship's daily routines, identifying safe zones and danger areas for each hour of the day.

"The captain inspects the cargo hold on Wednesdays," he explained to y/n one morning, helping her tuck Mr. Hugs inside a specially created hiding place sewn into her ragged dress. "When the bell rings twice, go to the empty barrels behind the meal stores. Stay there until Wooyoung comes for you."

She nodded seriously, absorbing his instructions with wide eyes. "What if he finds me anyway?"

"He won't," Seonghwa said, with a certainty he didn't entirely feel. "I've arranged things."

What he didn't tell her was how he earned this information—the extra cleaning duties he volunteered for in the officers' quarters, the careful eavesdropping, the system of small moved objects he used to track who had entered which rooms.

One month into their journey, disaster nearly struck when the first mate discovered y/n playing quietly in what should have been an empty storage room.

"What have we here?" the man growled, reaching for her with tobacco-stained fingers.

"Sir," Seonghwa appeared as if from nowhere, a carefully crafted look of concern on his young face. "The captain's looking for you. Said it's urgent—something about the course charts."

As the first mate hesitated, Seonghwa added casually, "I'm just retrieving cleaning supplies. Cook sent me to scrub the galley floors."

When the man hurried away, Seonghwa knelt before a trembling y/n. "That wasn't your fault," he said quietly, straightening Mr. Hugs' crooked ear. "I miscalculated the timing."

Later that night, while the others slept, he stayed awake documenting mental revisions to his safety protocols. The near-miss had revealed dangerous flaws in his system.

"Hwa?" y/n's sleepy voice interrupted his thoughts. "Are you making plans?"

He glanced down to find her watching him, eyes heavy with interrupted sleep. "Yes."

"Is it hard? Making all the plans?"

The question surprised him. No one had ever asked if his constant vigilance was difficult.

"Sometimes," he admitted. "But necessary things often are."

She nodded sagely, as if he'd confirmed something important. Then, to his further surprise, she patted the space beside her. "You should sleep too. Mr. Hugs says you think too much."

A faint smile touched Seonghwa's lips. "Does he?"

"Mm-hmm. He says you're very good at taking care." Her small hand patted his larger one with surprising gentleness. "But you need sleep to make good plans."

Something in Seonghwa's perpetually tense shoulders eased slightly. He had been responsible for so much, for so long, that the simple acknowledgment of his efforts felt unexpectedly powerful.

The next morning, he added a new element to his safety protocols: designated rest periods for himself, marked by y/n's insistence on telling Mr. Hugs about her day while Seonghwa listened, allowing his vigilant mind rare moments of peace.

That night, as she drifted back to sleep beside him, he found himself whispering "Sleep well, little dove" before catching himself in surprise. The endearment had emerged unbidden—something about her reminded him of the white doves that had nested in the eaves of his childhood home before captivity. Gentle creatures, requiring protection yet possessing their own quiet dignity.

The nickname settled into his private thoughts, a secret even from the other boys. "Dove" became his silent term for her during the weeks that followed—never spoken aloud, only thought in moments when her quiet resilience struck him anew: when she followed his complex safety instructions without complaint, when she comforted Mingi after a particularly brutal punishment from the gunner, when she maintained perfect stillness during ship inspections despite her age.

Wooyoung: The Lighthearted

Of all the boys, Wooyoung adapted most quickly to y/n's presence, treating her arrival as a wonderful game rather than another burden in their difficult lives. His position as kitchen helper made him invaluable for her physical sustenance, but his natural cheer provided nourishment of another kind.

"Today," he announced about six weeks into their journey, arriving at their nighttime gathering with suspicious bulges in his pockets, "is a very special day."

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow. "What day?"

"It's been exactly forty-three days since y/n joined our crew," Wooyoung declared grandly, "which means it's time for a celebration!"

With theatrical flourish, he produced his contraband: a slightly stale sweetbread filched from the officers' dinner, a small jar of honey, and five preserved cherries—true treasures in their world of hardship.

Y/n's eyes widened. "Real honey?"

"The cook was saving it," Wooyoung confided with a conspiratorial wink. "But I decided you should have it instead."

He divided the bounty with exaggerated ceremony, making sure y/n received the largest portion. When she hesitated, looking at their smaller shares with concern, Wooyoung nudged her gently.

"It's your celebration day," he insisted. "Special people get special treats."

The joy of that impromptu feast—sweetbread dipped in honey, the explosion of cherry flavor so intense after weeks of bland provisions—became a touchstone memory. Wooyoung declared a "celebration day" every couple of weeks afterward, always managing to procure some small treat despite increasingly vigilant kitchen supervision.

More importantly, he taught y/n to laugh silently—a critical skill on a ship where attention meant danger. He would contort his face into impossible expressions, cross his eyes, or mime elaborate pantomimes until she was shaking with suppressed giggles, one hand clamped over her mouth, the other clutching Mr. Hugs to her chest.

"Like this," he demonstrated one night, after a particularly close call when her laughter had nearly attracted unwanted attention. He showed her how to laugh with her whole body but no sound—shoulders shaking, eyes crinkling, mouth open in silent mirth.

They practiced until she mastered it, turning the serious lesson into yet another game. Soon, Wooyoung only needed to wiggle his eyebrows a certain way to send her into silent convulsions of laughter that spread to the other boys, creating moments of shared joy that sustained them through darker hours.

It was during one of these silent laughter sessions, when her eyes sparkled with delight despite their circumstances, that the nickname came to him. "That's it, little bird," he whispered, the endearment flowing naturally. "Just like that."

The others glanced at him curiously, but something about the name felt right. Like the small sparrows that sometimes landed on the ship's rigging, she was tiny and vulnerable yet possessed an irrepressible spirit. The way she would cock her head when curious, the quick movements of her hands when excited, even her occasional soft humming when she thought no one was listening—all reminded him of the birds his grandmother had once kept.

"Little bird" became his constant term for her, used openly unlike Hongjoong's whispered "Treasure" or Seonghwa's silent "Dove." Wooyoung's natural demonstrativeness made the affectionate nickname seem merely part of his theatrical personality rather than the deep attachment it actually represented.

Two months into their journey, when a particularly violent storm left everyone drenched and miserable, it was Wooyoung who orchestrated a "rain dance" in the relative privacy of their corner, mimicking the storm's fury with exaggerated movements until even Mingi's solemn face cracked into a reluctant smile.

Y/n, watching with Mr. Hugs clutched to her chest, laughed her silent laugh until tears mingled with the rainwater on her cheeks—tears of joy rather than fear. In that moment, Wooyoung realized that his silly games weren't just distractions; they were a form of resistance against the cruelty of their circumstances, small assertions that they were still children despite everything that had been taken from them.

"Woo," Y/n said that night, as they all huddled together for warmth, "Mr. Hugs says you make the sad go away."

Wooyoung's characteristic grin softened into something more genuine. "That's my job, little one," he whispered. "Somebody has to remember how to play."

Yunho: The Gentle Giant

At eight years old, Yunho was already taller than most boys his age, with a strength that had the ship's bosun eyeing him for heavier duties. But y/n never showed a flicker of fear toward him, despite his size making him potentially intimidating.

Instead, by the third week of their journey, she had established a routine of climbing onto his back whenever they were alone in the hold, her small arms wrapped around his neck and Mr. Hugs squished between them.

"Yuyu, go faster!" she would whisper excitedly as he carried her in circuits around their sleeping area, pretending to be a galloping horse or, on more adventurous days, a sea monster breaching the waves.

Despite the physical demands of his deck duties, Yunho never refused these games, understanding instinctively how important movement was for a child confined to hiding most of the day. He used his height to create moments of joy, lifting her to peek through the higher portholes or helping her touch the ceiling beams of the hold.

One clear night about a month into their journey, when Hongjoong was confined to the navigator's cabin with extra duties, Yunho took over the stargazing ritual. Though less knowledgeable about constellations, he made up for it with imaginative stories about star people living in the sky.

"That bright one there," he pointed to a particularly luminous star, "is the queen of all stars. She watches over the smaller ones."

Y/n followed his finger with rapt attention. "What's her name?"

"What do you think it should be?" he asked, enjoying her creativity.

She thought for a moment, then declared confidently: "Star!"

Yunho laughed softly. "That's just what she is. Don't you want to give her a special name?"

"No," y/n insisted. "She's just Star. Like you're Yuyu." As if this settled everything, she nestled closer against his side, clutching Mr. Hugs to her chest.

The simple logic charmed him, and over the following days, he found himself thinking of y/n as his little Star—bright and constant despite the darkness surrounding them. Unlike Wooyoung's "little bird" that seemed to flow naturally into conversation, Yunho kept "Star" mostly to himself, using it only occasionally when they were alone during their games or stargazing sessions.

"Ready for another story, Star?" he'd whisper, or "Hold tight, Star," when carrying her on his back. The nickname seemed to delight her, bringing an extra sparkle to her eyes whenever he used it.

"What's that island called?" she asked during one of their porthole viewing sessions, about two months into the journey.

"I don't know its real name," Yunho admitted, holding her steady as she pressed her face against the thick glass. "But we can give it one."

"Mr. Hugs Island!" she declared immediately.

Yunho smiled. "Perfect. And that one over there with the pointy top could be Joongie Island, because it looks like his hair when he wakes up."

She giggled at this, then continued the game: a round island became Woo Island, a perfectly symmetrical one was Hwa Island, and a distant one barely visible on the horizon was dubbed Puppy Island "because it's quiet like Mingi."

The naming game became another ritual, repeated at each landfall. Yunho would find moments to lift her to a porthole, and together they would create a geography of affection, mapping their small world with names of people they cared about.

When y/n fell ill during the journey's third month, feverish from an infection that spread among the crew, it was Yunho who cared for her most tenderly. His large hands, already calloused from rope work, were surprisingly gentle as he placed cool cloths on her forehead and cradled her when the ship's pitching threatened to roll her from the makeshift sick bed.

"Story," she mumbled through cracked lips on the second night of her fever. "Please, Yuyu."

Though not naturally verbose, Yunho rose to the occasion. He constructed elaborate tales about the adventures of five brave explorers and their guide, a magical teddy bear who always led them to safety. Night after night, as her fever slowly receded, he continued these stories, discovering a storyteller's voice he hadn't known he possessed.

"Once upon a time," he began one night when her fever finally broke, "there was a little star who fell from the sky."

"Like me?" she whispered, her voice weak but aware.

"Just like you," he confirmed, smoothing her tangled hair. "The brightest, bravest little star."

When she finally recovered, weak but alert, her first request was for another story.

"Mr. Hugs missed out on your stories," she explained, though the teddy bear hadn't left her side throughout her illness.

Yunho, who had worked double shifts to compensate for his nighttime vigils, simply smiled and settled beside her. "Then Mr. Hugs should hear how the explorers found the Island of Forever Summer," he began, his normally quiet voice taking on the cadence of a born storyteller, "where the little star showed them the way home."

Later, when she fell asleep mid-tale, Seonghwa approached with a rare look of open gratitude.

"You're good with her," he observed. "Better than the rest of us sometimes."

Yunho shook his head. "Not better. Just different." He looked down at y/n's sleeping form, her arms wrapped around Mr. Hugs. "She makes it easy to be gentle. My little Star," he added in a whisper so soft even Seonghwa didn't catch it.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Mingi: The Silent Guardian

While the other boys established their relationships with y/n through actions and words, Mingi's connection developed in quieter ways. The traumatized boy spoke rarely, but his silent presence became a constant in y/n's life aboard The Crimson Serpent.

At first, their interaction consisted mainly of y/n chattering to him while he listened, his eyes following her movements as she played with Mr. Hugs or practiced the silent laugh Wooyoung had taught her. He would whittle small objects—animals, boats, tiny people—and leave them near her sleeping spot, never drawing attention to these gifts.

About a month into their journey, she took to sitting beside him during his carving sessions, watching intently as he transformed scraps of wood into miniature treasures with his small stolen knife. Unlike the others, who filled silence with words or activities, Mingi allowed quiet to exist without discomfort, creating a peaceful space rare in their chaotic environment.

"Why don't you talk much, Puppy?" she asked one afternoon, using the nickname that had stuck despite Wooyoung's initial amusement.

Mingi's hands stilled briefly, his eyes remaining on the half-formed dolphin taking shape beneath his blade. After a long pause, he simply shrugged, then continued carving.

Instead of pressing, y/n adjusted her position, leaning slightly against his side as she held Mr. Hugs up to "watch" the carving progress. This small physical contact—something Mingi usually avoided—went unremarked but not unnoticed. His shoulders, perpetually tight with tension, relaxed incrementally.

The next day, when she settled beside him for what had become their silent routine, he surprised her by speaking: "Little shadow."

Y/n looked up, uncertain if she'd heard correctly. "What?"

"You," he explained with characteristic brevity, gesturing to how she had positioned herself in the exact shadow his body cast in the lantern light. "Little shadow."

The observation, simple yet oddly poetic from the habitually silent boy, delighted her. From that day forward, whenever she joined him for their quiet time, she would deliberately place herself in his shadow, a game that evolved without discussion or explanation.

"Little shadow here," she would sometimes announce softly, settling into position. Mingi rarely responded verbally, but a subtle softening around his eyes acknowledged the ritual.

About a month into their journey, during a particularly rough storm, the ship's violent pitching sent several poorly secured barrels rolling across the hold. One would have crushed Y/n if Mingi hadn't lunged forward, sheltering her with his body as the heavy container splintered against his back.

Later, as Seonghwa tended his bruises, Y/n sat nearby, unusually subdued. When the others were occupied with securing their few possessions against the continuing storm, she approached Mingi with solemn determination.

"Mr. Hugs wants to help you feel better," she announced, placing the teddy bear gently against his injured back.

Mingi froze at this unprecedented loan of her most treasured possession. His eyes widened, questioning.

"Just for tonight," y/n clarified. "He's very good at fixing hurts."

That night established a new pattern. Though y/n never again relinquished Mr. Hugs for a full night, she began regularly pressing him against Mingi's arm or shoulder as a form of communication. "Mr. Hugs wants to know if you're okay," she would say, or "Mr. Hugs thinks your carving looks like a dolphin."

Through this proxy, Mingi began responding more frequently, offering rare words that he seemed unable to direct to others. "Better now," he might murmur to the teddy bear, or "It's a whale, not dolphin."

By the journey's second month, Y/n had appointed Mingi as Mr. Hugs' official guardian whenever she needed to leave their sanctuary for necessary reasons. The solemnity with which he accepted this duty—sitting perfectly still, the teddy bear balanced carefully on his crossed legs—spoke volumes about the responsibility he felt.

"Keep little shadow's friend safe," he would whisper to himself, a personal mantra that acknowledged both his responsibility and his growing attachment to the child who had somehow found her way into his carefully guarded heart.

During the third month, as they entered waters known for pirate attacks, Mingi's protective instincts intensified. His position assisting the gunner gave him insights into potential dangers that even Seonghwa couldn't access. The first time another ship was spotted on the horizon, Mingi appeared in the hold hours before his usual return, his face tight with concern.

Without explanation, he moved y/n and Mr. Hugs to a different hiding spot, one he'd apparently prepared in advance—a small space behind a false panel in the bulkhead, with a tiny air hole disguised as damage.

"Little shadow must stay hidden," he instructed with rare firmness. "No sound."

When actual danger materialized hours later—not pirates but a naval inspection that sent the crew scrambling to hide evidence of illegal cargo—y/n remained safely concealed, understanding from Mingi's serious expression that absolute silence was required.

After that incident, his silent guardianship gained a new dimension. He began creating hidden caches throughout areas of the ship accessible to them—small survival kits containing water, hardtack, and tiny carved directions that only y/n would recognize.

"For little shadow," he explained one night, showing her a particularly clever hiding spot beneath a loose floorboard. The phrase, though minimalist, carried the weight of his concern, the depth of his commitment to her safety.

One night, when she was supposed to be sleeping, she caught him carefully attaching a small wooden disk to Mr. Hugs' worn paw.

"What's that?" she whispered, startling him.

Mingi hesitated, then turned the teddy bear to show her. The disk, no larger than a small coin, had a tiny star carved into it—the same star pattern Hongjoong had taught her to navigate by.

"To find way home," Mingi said simply, more words at once than he usually spoke. "If lost."

y/n touched the carving with gentle fingers. "So Mr. Hugs can always bring me back to you?"

Mingi nodded, a faint but unmistakable smile touching his lips. "Always, little shadow."

During their final days before reaching Halazia, when separation loomed as an increasing certainty, Mingi worked silently through the nights, carving a small collection of tiny wooden animals. On their last evening together, he pressed them into y/n's hand—a miniature menagerie small enough to hide in the hem of her dress.

"To remember," he said, his voice rough with emotion he didn't know how to express. "Little shadow never alone."

It was the longest sentence she had ever heard from him, and y/n understood the magnitude of both the gift and the words. She leaned against him in their familiar position, perfectly aligned with his shadow in the lantern light, a physical embodiment of the name that had become his special term for her.

"I'll always be your little shadow, Puppy," she whispered. "Even when you can't see me."​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

As The Crimson Serpent entered the final week of its three-month voyage to Halazia, the children's bond had grown into something deeper than friendship. Through shared hardship, secret games, and unspoken understanding, they had created a family forged by circumstance and choice.

The knowledge that Halazia meant probable separation loomed over them with increasing weight. During their nighttime gatherings, conversation became more subdued, punctuated by longer silences and tighter embraces.

On the final night, as distant lights on the horizon signaled their impending arrival, Hongjoong gathered them in their usual corner.

"Halazia tomorrow," he said quietly, voicing what they all knew.

Y/n, seated in their protective circle with Mr. Hugs clutched to her chest, looked from face to face. "What happens to me there?"

The question hung heavy in the damp air. None of the boys wanted to explain the slave markets that awaited her, the auction block where children were sold to the highest bidder.

"We don't know exactly," Seonghwa said finally, his voice gentle but honest. "But we're working on a plan."

"Will we stay together?" Her small voice wavered.

Wooyoung forced a bright smile. "Of course we will, little bird! Adventures are always better with friends."

But his eyes betrayed the lie, and y/n was perceptive beyond her years. She looked down at Mr. Hugs, adjusting his threadbare bow tie with trembling fingers.

"If we don't," she said slowly, "I want you to promise something."

"Anything," Hongjoong responded immediately, the word "treasure" forming silently on his lips though he didn't speak it aloud.

She looked up, her eyes solemn in the lantern light. "Promise you won't forget me. Even if I'm far away."

The simplicity of the request caught them all off guard. They had been planning escapes and interventions, not considering the possibility of long-term separation.

"We promise," Yunho said firmly, reaching out to take her small hand in his larger one, thinking of his bright little Star potentially lost in darkness.

One by one, the others added their promises: Seonghwa with quiet certainty, his thoughts full of the little Dove he had protected; Wooyoung with theatrical vehemence, his little bird's freedom suddenly more important than his own; Mingi with a single, powerful nod, his little Shadow potentially forced into painful light.

Hongjoong, last to speak, looked directly into her eyes. "I promise we'll find you again," he said, with a conviction that transcended his eight years. "No matter how long it takes, Treasure," he added in a whisper meant only for her ears.

They spent that final night huddled closer than usual, the six of them forming a protective circle with y/n and Mr. Hugs at the center. Though none of them spoke of it, each child silently committed every detail to memory: the smell of the sea and unwashed clothes, the gentle rocking of the ship, the sound of five different breathing patterns harmonizing in sleep.

Tomorrow would bring Halazia, with all its unknown dangers. But tonight, in the hold of The Crimson Serpent, they were together—five protectors and their charge, navigating the darkness by the light of a single, guttering lantern.