#Or if he picked the name before meeting and falling in love with Ford

[ryemiffie]

The funniest thing to me about trans dude Fiddleford is that means he picked the name Fiddleford. . .

Like, he was being SO FUCKING OBVIOUS and this dumb bitch (dumb bitch pictured below) remained oblivious as fUCK

IDIOT!

[trashcanfanfics]

might I request some headcanons for ford (young and old) w/ a reader who’s a witch (like from the boiling isles) and has their own place in the woods? they’re known as the witch of the woods and there are stories from local teens about how they’ll “steal your bones if you get too close to their house,” but they’re actually really nice and will make you lunch if you stop by.

please, and thank you 🔮

Man, do I love this idea!! I immediately started thinking of a little ficlet/imagine/scenario

Reader gender not mentioned, could be any gender

This turned out longer than I thought it would

I'd exiled myself to earth a bit ago in response to the ban on wild witches. It was easier for me to leave than to fight back then. I could probably go back anytime, but I'd rather not be forced to pick one coven.

It wasn't all bad here. The rain didn't burn, plants didn't move on their own or try to eat me. I loved the green color of the landscape and my palisman, Gretch, enjoyed the fresh air. The locals were friendly enough, and the children were curious.

I'd noticed that they were wary of me and my strange abilities. To combat this, I'd just make warm beverages and small meals for anyone traveling farther into the woods near my little cabin.

It was on my way home from the human store that I met him. A man stuck in the root of a tree. One of mine, unfortunately. In a moment of homesickness, I'd planted a seed from the Boiling Isles near my home, and this particular one was a grasping willow. A sigh escaped me, loud enough for my surprise captive to hear. He turned towards me, seeming to forget his foot was stuck, causing him to fall over. The man winced.

"I'm sorry for my tree, sir." I swirled my pointer finger into a circle of green. The root lifted and moved from his ankle. "He's just a bit playful." I set my bags down to offer him my hand. He hesitated, looking at my hand before reaching up and taking the offered help. Once he was up, I shook his hand with a smile and introduced myself.

"Nice to meet you," he quickly took his hand back and cleared his throat, "my name is Stanford Pines, though people call me Ford."

"Wonderful to meet you, Ford." I picked my bags back up and faced him again. "I have groceries to put away, so I have to go. Try walking in a wide circle to avoid Snipper if you're walking around here."

"Oh, uh, thank you for the advice." He waved awkwardly and turned to leave. I chuckled slightly and went on my own way. Gretch sniffed the air in his direction before hiding back into my cloak. They whispered to me about the stranger's smell as I walked back home.

~*~

Ford came around more often after that. He asked many questions, and I answered. I asked fewer questions but received more answers. He was eager to talk and learn, and I was grateful for the company. Ford became a part of my routine in the best way. We'd meet up for lunch at either mine or his cabin and tell me what he's found. His theories enthralled me. I'd developed quite the soft spot for him and missed him when he wasn't around. My palisman teased me endlessly about it, but stopped once I'd mention how they liked to curl up on his lap as he talked.

He'd started coming around less and less. I wondered what new oddity he was occupied with to take up all his time. Gretch had been keeping watch over him and hadn't seen much since they couldn't get into the cabin. Whenever he did visit, he was...distant. There were bags beneath his eyes, an erratic fear, and paranoia took over his voice, even when it was just a whisper. I was worried and told him as such. He'd stood abruptly from the living room couch, making poor Gretch leap to the floor, and looked at me for the first time in months.

"There's nothing to be worried about. I'm fine, everything's fine!" His eye twitched. I blinked a few times in shock at his outburst. My hands flew up in a placating manner.

"Okay, okay," I lowered my hands and held them out to him palm up, "how about I make you your favorite tea, hm?" His eyes lowered to my hands before placing his own in them. I gently squeezed his hands for exactly six seconds before standing up and leading him to the kitchen. He followed me as I moved around to make the tea. Gretch stayed close to him, attempting to comfort him. The kettle boiled and I pulled it off before the whistle blew. We both watched the tea steep for a few seconds before Ford wrapped me in a hug from behind. His head rested against me as he shook.

~*~

"I think...I think I did something very bad, and you won't forgive me." His voice cracked. I looked up from the soup I was serving to look at him. He was looking at his hands.

"I suppose that's a valid concern. Although, I can't say whether I would or wouldn't if I don't know what it is." I set the ladle down and grabbed the tray holding the bowls. "For what it's worth, there is very little you can do that I wouldn't be able to forgive." I set the tray on the table and set a bowl in front of him, then Gretch's, before sitting down my with my own.

"I..." He stared at the soup. "I care for you deeply, and I don't want you to be mixed up in my mistakes." His eyes were tired when they looked at me. My breath caught in my chest as I stared back. My palisman stopped slurping to to look up at both me and Ford.

"Is that what you're asking me to forgive? You caring deeply for me?" I looked down at my own soup, stirring it slightly. My heart raced as his words filled my mind. "If that's a thing in need of forgiveness, then I beg for yours in return." I look back at him with a small smile. His brow furrowed.

"That's not the point I'm making." Ford ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his forehead. "I've made a mistake that could put you in danger. Out of everything that's happened to me, you've been the best. I don't want to lose you." He pulled out a book from his bag. One of his journals. He slid the book over to me. Gretch leaned over the tray to sniff it before recoiling. I blinked and looked at him.

"Ford, what--" I was cut off by him rounding the table and kneeling beside me. He grabbed my hands in both of his and looked me in the eye, more serious than he'd ever been with me. Gretch, wanting a better view, crawled over the table to be beside me.

"Take this journal and hide it. Take it as far from here as possible. Go and never come back. Please." His voice trembled. "I don't want him to get you."

"Who? Who is going to get me? What aren't you telling me?" I pulled my hands from his to hold his face, tears brimming my eyes. "Ford, tell me what's going on, why do I have to leave? What will happen to you once I do?" Tears poured down my face as I bit back a sob. I'd been so worried about him, about why he'd been so distant. Then he was asking me to leave. Leave Gravity Falls, my home, the only person besides my palisman I trusted fully with all my heart. I didn't want to go.

"I can't tell you. Please, believe me, it's safer this way." Ford reached for my face, eyes flitting back between my own. He leaned in and kissed me softly, barely a whisper on my lips. My eyes shut, allowing more tears to fall. I pushed into him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, and deepened the kiss.

"I can't leave you." I said against his lips as we both pulled back slightly. I kissed him again. "I can't leave you, Ford." Our foreheads were pressed against each other.

"You have to." He pulled away and stood up. He grabbed his bag and turned to leave. Gretch chased after him immediately. I watched him go for a second, tears still falling down my face, before grabbing the book, and running after him. Grabbing the strap of his bag, I pulled him back.

"If you're going, then take this with you. I won't be part of something i don't know about." I shoved the book into his chest and glared at him through my tears. He looked at the book and then me before steeling his gaze. He shoved the book back into his bag and left. The front door closed, and I made my way back to the kitchen, Gretch following sadly behind. The soup had gone cold.

~*~

We hadn't spoken in a month. Four weeks. Thirty days. I went to his cabin to see him but his friend, Fiddleford McGucket, was on his way out and warned me to stay away from Ford.

"For your own sake." He said, rushing to his truck, bags in tow. "He's gone insane." I'd still knocked on his door for the next week. No reply. Gretch continued to keep an eye out and told me whatever they deemed relevant.

The next three I wallowed in my grief. Moping around the house, not taking care of my plants, or myself. I could barely brush my teeth or eat. My body odor followed me like a cloud. Days blurred together. Gretch tried to help me, but they were just as upset. Eventually, I had to go out to get more groceries.

On the way to the store, in my sweatpants, hooded sweater and muddy boots, I passed by Ford's cabin flying low to the ground on Gretch. As I looked towards it, my heart clenching painfully, the trees began to shake. I looked around in confusion as Gretch and I slowed to a stop. Then back to the cabin. The basement windows lit up a bright blue. Before I could stop myself, I flew straight towards the door, using my magic to unlock it. Bursting into the foyer, down the steps to the basement, I saw two figures.

There was Ford and someone else who looked like him. Stanley, his twin brother. Ford had told me about him. Ford was floating in the air, waving his limbs around, trying not to get pulled into a giant machine glowing with the light I'd seen outside.

"Ford!" I yelled, running to help him. Gretch almost reached him as he screamed his brother's name. He was sucked into the portal faster than I could cast a spell. "FORD!" I fell to my knees in front of the portal, next to where Stanley was standing. He was gone. My tears became my closest friends in the past weeks. These ones felt different. They hurt more, like daggers down my cheeks. He was gone. My friend, the one I adored and trusted the most. Gone. I sobbed out his name again, looking at the ground, Getch placed their head into my lap.

"Uh, are you...Did you...know my brother?" The voice made me jump. I turned to Stanley. I'd forgotten he was here in my anguish. I sniffed and wiped my face on my sleeve.

"Yes. He was my friend."

~*~

Ford had been gone for 30 years. After he'd been taken through the portal, Stan and I began a sort of friendship. He was brash and rude, his voice was gruff. He was different from Ford in so many ways, but so similar. Our friendship wasn't like the one with Ford. It was less lunch dates and more I'd bring him meals and take him shopping.

He'd convinced a crowd of shoppers that he was the mysterious scientist in the cabin while he was shopping by himself one day. I'd gotten very angry at him and refused to talk to him for a week after that. Eventually, I came around to it, realizing that he does need to make money somehow.

In time, the "Mystery Shack", as Stan called it, became quite profitable. People were attracted to its unbelievable aura. Personally, I found most of Stan's grotesque attractions to feel like home. I'd known someone who looked like the "Eyeball with Legs" back in the Boiling Isles. Gretch was glad Stan never asked them to be an exhibit. Sometimes, I feel as though Stan took inspiration from my stories.

It was summer when the twins came to Gravity Falls. Stan told me I wasn't allowed to do magic or talk to them about the strangeness in our little town. I told him that I wasn't going to hide who I was from anyone, and if he had a problem with it, don't let them go out by my cabin. We had a heated argument about that. I had resolved to not speak, or even go looking for him or anyone from the Shack that whole summer.

Of course, that didn't stop them from looking for me. Apparently, Ford had written about me in his third journal, and Dipper had stumbled across it. It lead them both to my doorstep with a gentle knock on the door.

"Hello?" As I opened the door, I saw two children, tweens, it seemed. The girl was holding a video camera at my face. "Oh!" They looked familiar almost.

"Uh, hi, uh..." The boy ruffled through a familiar book. I realized then who I must've been talking to. This must be Dipper and Mabel. The Pines' genetics must have been strong, they looked just like their great uncles. "Are you the witch of the woods?" His question made me laugh slightly. Gretch poked their head out the door to sniff at the children, causing the girl to gasp and coo at them, holding a hand out. I debated telling them both to leave, but it had been a while since I'd had company. Besides, it was getting a bit dark, and the woods were dangerous for children to go out into.

"That's what the townsfolk call me, yes." I gestured for them to come inside. "Would you like some tea?" The girl quickly came in with an excited smile. She was already petting and baby-talking Gretch. I chuckled.

"Oh, you're so cute! What's your name?" She looked around my living room and gasped. "I love your curtains!" She raced over to touch them before her brother stopped her, scolding her in a hushed tone. I smiled at them before going into the kitchen with Gretch in tow. They followed soon after.

"I'm not going to eat you, despite what the other children might say." I grabbed three tea cups and started the stove. "I don't do much other than tend to my plants and feed hikers that come by." I placed teabags into a teapot.

"So you're...not a witch?" The boy asked. I laughed again and ushered them to sit at the table. The girl gasped at the center piece. A lovely potted plant of flowers Ford had gifted me a long time ago. They were spring flowers, so they had stopped blooming. I smiled fondly at them.

"What kind of plant is this?" She touched the leaves gently. "It's so pretty."

"They're called shooting stars." I swirled my pointer finger in a green circle, causing the flowers to glow green as well and bloom. Gretch sniffed them, then sneezed. "They're normally a spring flower, but I'm able to keep them going with the sunroof in place and a bit of magic.

"So you are a witch!" The boy yelled. The kettle whistled and I quickly went to stop it. "This is incredible! Mabel! Did you catch that on video?" His sister, Mabel, looked at the camera, which had been placed facing away from the plant, towards a window.

"Whoops." She fixed the camera to face the flowers, which had ceased glowing and sat, bloomed, but otherwise non magical. He groaned in frustration and looked at me.

"Would you do that again? For the camera?" He gestured to the technology. I finished making the tea and brought it over, giving them each a cup.

"I would," I sat down in my own chair, "but the flowers are already bloomed, dear." I took a sip and set it back down. Looking at him with a small smile full of humor. Gretch huffed in their form of laughter. Ford had always called me a smart ass.

"Darnit!" He put his head on the table. Mabel reached over and patted his back before taking a sip of her tea. She hummed in delight at the taste and finished the cup in a few gulps. I offered her more, which she gladly accepted, drinking more before scratching Gretch on the head. The palisman leaned into her hand.

"I could do something else for your, oh, what are you needing the footage for, Dipper?" My question made his head shoot up. He looked at me in surprise. I realized that I'd called him his name before he'd told me.

"How do you know my name?" His eyes widened. "Do you read minds?" I was already shaking my head before he finished. Gretch huffed another laugh.

"I know your uncle, is all." I held my hand up to stop both of their questions. "Stan and I are, well, I suppose you could call us friends."

"Are you two in a relationship? Are you in love?" Mabel stood on her chair, her hands planted on the table as she leaned towards me. I scrunched my face in slight disgust even thinking about being with Stan. My palisman sneezed and shook their head.

"Absolutely not." I huffed and rolled my eyes. "Not even if he begged." The very idea of Stan being who I came home to made me very uncomfortable. Besides...I still dreamed of Ford. I regretted that our first and only kiss was when he was leaving. Maybe if I'd been braver in the beginning, said something sooner, he'd still be here. Maybe it'd have chased him away earlier than he did.

"Um, witch...sir? Ma'am? Sma'mir?" Mabel's voice drew me out of my reverie. I blinked and looked at her. She tilted her head in confusion.

"Pardon, I was leagues away. Did you say something, dear?" I looked at the clock to see the time. "Oh, that might have to wait. You two need to get home." I stood and ushered them to the living room where I grabbed my warmest shawls. They would have to do, my coats were buried in the hall closet. I wrapped one around Mabel, as she was the closest, so that it covered her head. when I turned to do the same to Dipper, he refused.

"I'll be fine, I don't need it." He held up his hands and I put mine on my hips. My eyebrow arched as I gave him a look that said this wasn't an argument. Gretch went behind him and gently nudged him towards me.

"It gets cold at night, especially in the woods." I quickly threw it over his shoulders and over his head like his sister. Mabel giggled as she pointed the camera at us. Dipper's frown deepened as his cheeks reddened. "I won't have you catch a chill on my watch. It'll just be another thing for Stan to b-ahem, yell about." With them properly bundled, I wrapped myself up and had Gretch turn into a staff. Both children gasped.

"I definitely got that on video." Mabel said as I waved them both to get on. Mabel in front of me and Dipper behind, I took off, up and over the trees. The twins both yelled out, though I suspected for different reasons.

As we walked up the porch, the door swung open to reveal Stan himself. He looked from both of the twins then to me. His eyes darkened slightly.

"I told you not to talk to them!" He pushed them both behind him and pointed a finger at me. "You said you wouldn't!" His glare matched mine. I pushed his hand out of my face and lifted my chin.

"Children, cover your ears." I spared them a glance to see them do so. My finger replaced his between us. "They were deep in those damn woods at dusk! I wouldn't have had to take them home if you had been doing your fucking job of keeping them safe! No wonder they're up to their goddamned knees in the supernatural of this fucking town!"

"How much did you tell them, what did you tell them?!" He got closer to me, dangerously so. I pointed my palisman staff towards him as a barrier. "So help me, if you told them-!" That made me scoff.

"Oh, please, I didn't tell them anything." I scoffed and waved my other hand to dismiss the thought. "Do you have such little faith in me? After all these years?" A sigh left my lips as I shook my head.

"Just stay away from them!" He pointed a finger at me again. "They don't need to be involved with all this weirdness." His statement made me roll my eyes and I turned to leave.

"They're already too invested in the weirdness, Stanley." I turned my head to look back at him over my shoulder, mounting my palisman. "They won't end up like him in one summer, but if you're that worried, keep them out of the woods." With that, I took off into the sky.

~*~

The children clearly didn't listen to Stan, if he told them to stay away from me. They came around my home every few days or so, asking me about myself and the woods surrounding. I'd been vague about my friendship with Ford, for Stan's sake if nothing else. Gretch enjoyed their company, especially Mabel's. She would bring the palisman snacks and plenty of affection. Waddles and Gretch became fast friends when the pig was brought along as well.

Mabel had latched onto my story of him and was sobbing by the time I'd told her he was gone and I'd never see him again. Dipper also seemed disappointed, wanting to meet the scientist. He'd asked if I was talking about the author of the journals. I'd told him no. Gretch whined at that, clearly frustrated I wouldn't tell them anything. I just shooed her away.

They told me about their adventures and a figure named Bill. I'd sat eagerly by, hearing about their encounters. They had been in danger multiple times over the summer and I'd nearly gone to shout at Stan some more before they said they didn't want him to know. I explained to them that not telling Stan was a mistake. He is their guardian for the summer and needed to know where they were so he could help if needed. They disagreed and went home. I'd asked Gretch to watch over them for a while to make sure they weren't in too much danger.

It was sometime after Mabel's sock opera when the kids invited me over. Well, more Mabel did, with Stan's permission. Though the man had been rather grumpy over the phone. I was amused by Mabel's antics and agreed, soon making my way over there. Gretch sniffed the air and shook their head, rubbing their nose.

"Oh hush, I'm sure Stan can't stink that bad from out here." I joked before knocking on the door. "Should we invest in nose plugs for you?" The door opened before they could retort. Mabel squealed when she saw me and pulled me into the cabin and to the living room.

"You're going to love this guy, trust me," She squealed again, "I'm a master match maker." I laughed at her enthusiasm. She was determined to have me meet someone. The only time she'd stopped was when she'd found out Stan had a crush on Lazy Susan.

"Mabel, I've told you already that I'm perfectly fine on my own. I really should stop ind--" I looked up to see the unfortunate suitor this time. My eyes widened and my heart stopped. I knew the figure instantly. Despite the wrinkles, my dreams made sure I'd never forget his face. "Ford?" His eyes widened as he recognized me. He said my name in a whisper. Gretch wasted no time in throwing themselves at him, circling and sniffing and bumping into him. He huffed a laugh and pet them gently.

"I didn't forget you either." He looked up from the palisman back to me. "I'd thought you'd have left Gravity Falls." His other hand twitched, as if he wanted to touch me. I couldn't hold back, I ran to him and wrapped him in a hug. The tears that had been building up overflowed.

"I told you I couldn't." I felt his arms slowly hug me back. He squeezed me gently and buried his face into my neck. I gave him one more squeeze before pulling back slightly to look up at him. Our eyes met and I smiled brighter than I'd had in years. He returned the gesture. "I'm glad you're back." Tears continued to slide down my face and I sniffed.

"You knew each other?!" Mabel's voice broke us both out of our little bubble. "What?!" She turned to Dipper, who'd just walked in, and shook him by his shoulders screaming about how this is a better story than the Dusk series. Dipper, having pulled himself from his sister's grasp, looked at me and Ford, still in an embrace. Mabel ran out of the room to go tell Stan.

"...When I asked if the person you were talking about was the author of the journals..." He furrowed his brows. I hesitantly pulled myself fully from Ford's arms and cleared my throat.

"I lied, yes." My hand was already up to stop him from asking questions or comment on my dishonesty. "Stan had asked me not to, it would have caused problems if you knew." The boy looked displeased with my answer.

"That's what Grunkle Stan said, too." He crossed his arms. "It's stupid! If we knew, we could have helped rebuild the portal and get Great Uncle Ford back!" His statement had Ford opening his mouth, but I was faster.

"Now, that's enough, young man!" I put one hand on my hip and pointed a finger at him. He jumped and his eyes widened. I'd never raised my voice at either of the twins before. "Stan is a ridiculously infamous liar, but this time he did out of necessity. You weren't there to see what happened after Ford was sucked into that portal, he was dealing with the grief of losing his brother and while I'm going to have very strong words with him out of earshot of you kids about rebuilding that machine, it's understandable how he went about things." Gretch sneezed, huffed and then looked away. I raised an eyebrow at them and put my other hand on my other hip. They gazed right back at me and yawned before laying down nonchalantly. I rolled my eyes. They never truly liked Stan. Ford laughed slightly at mine and Gretch's wordless exchange. I turned to him with a slight smile and a raised eyebrow. He only shook his head fondly.

"You're defending him?" Dipper stuck up his chin, ignoring the palisman. "I thought you guys didn't like each other..." A sigh escaped me at that. I crossed the room, pulled out a chair to the card table before sitting down. Ford followed to stand next to me, my heart swelled at the thought that he was here. Actually back.

"Stan and I don't always see eye to eye," I began, watching Dipper join me at the table, "but, well, I helped him for the first few months after the incident. With the portal, I mean. We looked through the research we had to figure it out."

"You helped with that?" Ford looked incredulous. "Why? It was dangerous!" His outburst made me look at him with a huff. Gretch snuffed out a laugh and made themself comfortable on the old yellow chair.

"I was getting to that." This seemed to placate him as he closed his mouth and cleared his throat in embarrassment. "Anyway, I had been helping him, reading through the only journal we had, before I'd looked at everything and used my oracle abilities to try and track down any others. I'd had a vision in my crystal of what would happen if I helped further and told Stan what I'd seen."

"I'm guessing he didn't believe you?" Dipper asked, rolling his eyes. I smiled at how the resemblance he had to Stan in that moment.

"He rolled his eyes just like that when I told him. Stan's always been a stubborn bas--ahem, man." I snickered, glancing at Ford and winking when our eyes met. His face reddened "It's a family trait, I've noticed."

"I'd hardly call myself stubborn." Ford crossed his arms and looked away. "It's not stubbornness when you're right." His defensiveness made me bark out a laugh. His face deepened in color as he refused to look at me.

"Okay, and when you told him what would happen and he didn't believe you, you stopped helping?" Dipper put his arms on the table and leaned towards me, eagerly waiting for the rest of the story.

"Well...not exactly." I looked off to the side, thinking how to phrase my words. "I mean, I stopped helping with the portal, yes, but I stayed until the Shack became more popular. In the beginning of the change, I understood needing the money, but the more ridiculous it became, the more I felt like it was wrong. We'd gotten into a huge fight over it. There's been tension ever since."

"So you and Gruncle Stan were never together?" Mabel's voice made me jump. I looked to see her sitting on the floor and Stan leaning against the yellow chair Gretch had fallen asleep in. He looked at Mabel in confusion. I rubbed my hand on my forehead and sighed.

"Mabel. I've told you this." I looked at Stan and scrunched my nose, he rolled his eyes, his arms crossed. "I have never, and I mean ever, considered Stan anything more than an unlikely friend." I looked at her and shook my head.

"Yeah, they're not my type anyway." He snickered. It was my turn to roll my eyes before crossing my own arms. I raised my eyebrows at him.

"Yes, his type is anything twenty years younger and doesn't have enough wits to realize he isn't as funny as he thinks he is." I smirked at the indignant noise he made at my jab. "Or a spider." My last comment made Dipper and Mabel laugh as Stan's face grew red.

"Hey! She didn't look like a spider at the time!" He grumbled and looked back down at Gretch, poking them to try and get them to move. They growled in response. "How do you even know about that?" He looked at the kids and then grumbled under his breath again.

"Besides," I looked at Mabel, "I have my eye on only one person. I have since I first met him." Her eyes sparkled as she looked between me and Ford. Dipper looked exasperated.

"Is he Great Uncle Ford?!" She stood up and pointed at us both. I chuckled at her enthusiasm. Ford looked at her, his mouth agape and cheeks red. Dipper rolled his eyes, but seemed interested as he eyed both me and Ford with interest.

"Yes." I smiled at him as he already opened his mouth, words spilling out before he could register what I said.

"That's hardly an appropriate thing to say--" He stopped and looked at me. "Did you say yes?" He was staring at me in amazement. I could see Stan gagging in my peripheral vision. Mabel giggled and Dipper started writing down on a piece of paper.

"I did." I raised my eyebrow at Ford. "Did you forget about that kiss? I'm a bit insulted." He blinked and cleared his throat, looking away. His face was so red, I thought he was going to faint from the blood rush.

"No!" He cleared his throat again. "No, I just...I didn't think..." His gaze softened and he reached out to cup my face. I leaned in, keeping eye contact as he rubbed a thumb over my cheek. My hand reached up and held his there.

"Ugh, gross. Get a room." We both looked at Stan who gagged again. "At least take it outside." I rolled my eyes again and stood up, bringing Ford's hand from my face to hold between us. He looked at me as I reached up my own hand to bring his face closer to mine. At long last, I kissed him. He made a muffled noise of surprise but quickly leaned into the kiss. Stan and Dipper both groaned as Mabel cheered. I pulled back and looked Ford in the eyes.

"I wish I'd told you sooner," I leaned in and gave him another kiss, "I love you Stanford Pines."

~*~

Weirdmageddon had been concluded, the twins, both sets, safe and sound. Dipper and Mabel had their birthday before saying goodbye. I'd cried as I hugged them. They'd each received a charm of good luck. Ford and Stan had decided to sail around the world, inviting me to join them. I'd told them I'd let them catch up for a few years before setting sail with them. I'd be here when they came back during the summers.

"Are you sure? We don't mind, really." Ford had encouraged, but I shook my head with a smile. Stan shrugged his shoulders with a small smile.

"Yeah, it'd be nice to have a powerful witch aboard." He smacked a hand on my shoulder. I laughed and patted his hand. He moved it back to his side.

"I'm sure you boys can handle yourselves. Besides, I've waited this long." I looked at Stan then Ford. Gretch huffed and sat firmly next to Ford, daring me to try and stop her from going. "Fine by me, Gretch. Go on with them, I'll see you in a few years."

"It doesn't have to be years..." Ford looked down at them with a sheepish smile. "You could join us at the end of next summer." Stan gave a noise of agreement.

"Yeah!" Stan gave me a nudge. "It'd be nice to catch up with you, too." We had gained some of our friendship back during the apocalypse and I was glad for it. I smiled and shook my head fondly.

"Alright, fine." They both smiled at my confirmation. "Send me letters in the meantime." Stan agreed and went to say one more goodbye to his protege, Soos, before getting the car. Gretch huffed and walked off, deciding to stay with me after all. Ford stepped closer to me, gently cupping my face in one of his hands. We both leaned in and kissed. Stan drove up and honked the horn, causing us to reluctantly part.

"I promise to write." He gave me one more kiss before getting into the car and they both drove off. I kept waving until they were out of sight.

"See you next summer." I said before heading back home with Gretch. My heart felt full.

[romanticizing-writing]

—Meet the Cast!—

Part Five: The Friend and Foe

Wilma:

Wilma is an environmental activist who does acting for a side job in order to make the money needed to be able to thrive in stability and fuel her organization "Wilma's Wilderness Protection Services," or "WWPS" for short. One of the most recent roles she took on within the acting industry was "Wendy Corduroy" from the beloved Disney series, "Gravity Falls". She claimed to have been attracted to the chill yet strong-willed nature of the character and said the traits reminded her of herself.

She's made a strong impact on certain aspects of the studio — suggesting the addition of recycling bins and utilization of recycled paper for scripts instead. She's also been seen, from time to time, picking up the litter occasionally covering the surrounding area of the building's outside. She deeply believes in her cause and takes every opportunity to attempt to take better care of the Earth.

"I feel like she has definitely affected all of us — in a good way, I mean. Not that I littered or treated our planet badly, but I never really helped out. I didn't know I could, to be honest. It felt like nothing I could do would make a difference. But, Wilma? She changed that attitude. She taught us little tips here and there, and recommended things we could do to help out if we ever felt like it. Not too much overwhelm us or make us feel like we weren't doing much before — like some people might do — but just enough to be encouraging and remind us that we could. That it was possible and we had a choice; a say in how much humanity affected nature. It's an empowering belief that she brought upon us," Melanie (actor of "Melody") expressed about her fellow actress.

Wilma is closest with Mabel and Alzamirano due to them having similar activities and firm opinions. When hanging out with the younger girl, the conversation usually revolves around their shared care for nature and its wildlife. When she's around Alza, meanwhile, they typically talk about how managing both of their associations is going and how they created them out of the common desire for the world's betterment.

William:

William is THE celebrity actor cast with playing the role of "Bill Cipher" in the show "Gravity Falls". He's one of the big names and is the most famous toon working on set for the series. He's been acting since seemingly forever (since he was ten years old) and is one of the most well known actors out there, period. He didn't have much competition when it came to auditioning for the role — since not too many shape toons exist in the world — and the little he had quickly left after finding out who they were up against.

William has been said to have a flamboyant and flashy personality. He's bold and will do whatever it takes to determine that he stands out from the crowd. He lives for the attention and makes that fact known. As a result, he sometimes comes across as fake, shallow, and even egotistical to people; finding him off-putting. Despite this, he's still extremely popular with public. He's the type of person who you either hate or love full-heartedly with little room for an in-between opinion.

While seemingly unapproachable on the surface, he's more than willing to converse, help, or interact with others — even if they're below him fame-wise. He's capable of being a very down-to-earth triangle who's sensitive and caring. Though, this piece of information is not that well known due to how he acts when near the spotlight. However, that's not the only reason. He has been making a noticable decision to attempt to appear less vulnerable and keep up his persona after the creation of a highly gossiped rumor. In the case you've been living under a rock (I apologize for any accidental offense caused to you, Patrick Star), I'll briefly explain what I'm referring to:

William has been theorized to have been close in some sort of proximity to famous scientist, Dr. Ford (actor of "Stanford Pines").

While I'm legally obligated reiterate that the connection between the duo is pure speculation, I'm more than willing to delve into why this has become a common belief. For starters, upon their first meeting, Ford was stated to have been shocked to realize William was also part of the cast in the way someone is suprised to see someone they know at the local grocery store.

"It was strangest thing I had seen. Mr. Ford was walking around, saying 'hi' to people, and then when he saw Mr. William he just...stopped. Stopped being able to do just about everything. He stopped being able to function properly, stopped knowing how to speak, stopped smiling — you get the gist. Oh! And then there was his eyes. They widened and became distant, as if he seen a ghost. Though, Bill does float like one. But, that's not the point. The point is: It was like he knew him," Deon (actor of "Gideon Gleeful") recited from memory about the two.

Furthermore, while they do seem avoid each other at every possible opportunity, their eyes have been caught to occasionally drift over to the other's. Their expressions changing to one of reminiscence as they (POTENTIALLY! This is theorizing, I don't want to be sued for any of this being mistaken for fact) let their minds wander to the ghosts of their pasts.

Again, none of this should be taken as objective truth. Though there is evidence to support this claim, they haven't confirmed any of the suspicion and instead denied it. Or avoided it like people avoid secrets they don't wish to speak about publicly. Please take all of this with a grain of salt. I was lucky enough to be hired to write these articles for the Disney company, since the show is so popular — I don't want to be sued for it.

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More Content:

(Fanfic in the process of being written)

Previous Part:

[writtenbyjos]

Starlight and Shadows: Gravity Falls Prologue #1

Prologue 1: Vagabond

((ALL FAN-FICTION RELATED CONTENT AND OC'S BELONG TO ME))

Gravity Falls, oh it is good to be back! I am BEYOND excited to share this with you guys, I've put my absolute heart and soul into writing this story, but I'm going to post chapters 1-5 whenever I can finally get them polished, edited and formatted the way I want. But this is the first prologue out of two that's going to set up the story before the story even begins. It'll introduce Eliza and Matilda, (Matilda's Prologue COMING SOON) and gives some context for where we'll pick up later in the story. It's going to be a full fledged story with all the angst, romance, mystery and adventure your heart can handle. To let you know what you'll be getting yourself into, we have a very charming and mysterious male antagonis with unknown intentions named Trick, changlings, vampires, the darker, more sinister side of Gravity Falls, inter-dimensional travel, heartbreak, a character who can see and communicate with ghosts, flashbacks and delving deep into some angsty Pines Twins content. What the people (AND ME) love to see. I've posted some artwork of my OC's, Eliza and Matilda if you wanna go check it out! I am so hyper-fixated on this fanfiction, its actually insane. Like, Gravity Falls has literally taken my mind and heart hostage and I am a WILLING participant. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this little story as much as I have enjoyed writing it! :) <3 Attaching the Spotify playlist I created to read along with the stories. Enjoy!!

(ALL GRAVITY FALLS CONTENT BELONGS TO ALEX HIRSCH AND THAT KING ON EARTH ONLY WE ARE HUMBLE SERVANTS)

Summary:

PROLOGUE PLOT:

The first prologue (Vagabond) revolves around the happenstance meet cute and completely chaotic situation that Stanley and Eliza find themselves in. Eliza is an ex-pageant queen hailing from a wealthy family business, but escaping to big cities to live out her dreams of being on stage while haboring a complex darkness she can't seem to break free of. But right now, performing nightly at a seedy variety club downtown with her two best friends will suffice. After a heist gone very, VERY wrong, Stanley Pines, hunky drifter, takes cover from a cop chase and drug bust into an alley where he stumbles through a back door-- and onto Eliza, in a robe, smoking a cigarette out the door before she goes on for her first set. Their meeting would set off a butterfly effect, and set many events into motion. And the rest, my friends, is history.

MAIN PLOT (IN PROGRESS): After a year of sailing the seven seas and repairing their strained relationship and re-discovering their love and zest for life, Stan and Ford Pines return to Gravity Falls to spend a highly anticipated second summer with Dipper and Mabel, fresh off the track of their first successful year of high school. Dipper and Mabel have been trying to figure out how to be teenagers under the strain of their parent's failing relationship while Ford and Stan have made a fortune from their research. But while still trying to re-adjust to normal life after the traumatic events of defeating Bill and surviving Weirdmageddon, everyone still feels weary of calm waters and still haven't found their footing. But they know as long as they'll have each other, they can make it through anything. After the reunite, it was as if they had never left. The whole gang is back and better than ever. But in Gravity Falls, all is not always as it seems... and when Stan's long time old flame Eliza resurfaces and her estranged, mysteriously charming lover Trick comes looking for her, he brings with him a looming threat that no one could have ever imagined. This would be the summer where everyone's lives changed forever.

It was a hot, soggy-aired late afternoon where the days of august seemed to drag on like a bad movie. In Las Vegas, you needed three things, a tough hide, a sharp mind and a little dumb luck. In 1978, 'Grease' had just been released, and dancing was the capture of everyone's attention, but anew kind. Big cities like these offered the opportunity for young people with big dreams to think they could take the world, where it was almost still possible for people to have hope for the future, everything was so unknown, so mysterious. Stanley Pines was no exception. After a disastrous attempt to pull off a heist that involved certain "illegal" and "counterfeit" goods, exotic animal smuggling and a fake ID ended in being busted by two undercover cops. Stanley was once again evading the arrest and capture as he hurtled himself through the busy streets of one of his favorite cities in the world. He'd become well acquainted with the unpredictability and excitement of las Vegas. In other words, Stan had successfully learned how to be a full time criminal, evading the grasp of the LVPD many times in the past year. But this time… this time he may have taken things just a little too far.

As his heart pounded in his ears, he made sharp turns on street corners, jumped over chain link fences and ducked into a few port-o-poties eventually pushing some sad sack off their tourist bike and making a mad dash for the south side of town, where he knew he could find enough chaos to blend in with or a seedy bar to hide in. He cycled through the sidewalks and lights like a race car on a fast track.

He had become addicted to the feeling of escaping the authorities, it was the same rush he would get when he'd do something to get him sent to detention in high school. There was still no feeling like it. But he was so caught up in the adrenaline of outrunning the police, he nearly crashed into a construction site surrounding a large pot hole gaping in the middle of the sidewalk. He swerved around and barely missed it, laughing as he looked back, pounding a fist proudly into the air.

"Suckers!" He cackled. But what happened next was no laughing matter. He felt a small bump underneath the tires and his heart sank as the wheels began to pedal slower and slower.

"Goddammit, not now, not now! Fuck! Shit!" He cursed to himself, pulling over by a brightly lit club and hopping off into its hidden alleyway. He examined the front wheel: busted. There was a giant nail stuck in the tire, presumably from the construction site he almost fell face first into moments ago. He grabbed his hair in his clutched fists frantically and paced back and forth, in a disheveled suit he had sticky fingered from an old thrift store for this exact occasion. He put his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath.

"He went that way! We got him now!" He heard voices yelling from the street not too far away and knew he had to think of a plan and fast, if he didn't want to be locked up and sent off to the big house. He looked around frantically for an escape, and spotted a back door that was slightly open, cracked. He didn't think twice, just forward and lunged for the door, opening it and hurting himself inside. He managed to get himself through the door and flattened himself against the wall just as the cop car zoomed past the alleyway in the opposite direction, away from the club. It was one of his more graceful exits. But what wasn't so graceful, was his crash landing. He'd gotten his boot stuck in part of the ply wood that stuck up from the ground and fallen face first onto the dusty floor. Luckily, his giant nose broke his fall. He lay there for a minute, unsure if he could move his anything. He sighed and turned over to lay on his back, grimacing from the pain of falling flat on his forehead.

"Hey, this is a closed smoke session, buddy." A gravely voice startled him almost half to death, and it was coming from a short-torso-ed, long legged, blonde leaning against a door frame with a lit cigarette in her left hand, taking a long drag. Before he could say anything, she stepped over to him where he was sprawled out on the floor like a complete idiot about to make a snow angel with no snow. She was wearing nothing but a pink robe with fluffy cuffs and red platform heels—a specific detail that Stan would remember fondly for years and years to come. With every step closer she got, her heels echoed in the hallway full of metal shafts and a boiler sitting in the corner huffing like a train engine, presumably about to burst open. She seemed to walk in sync with the bursts of hot air, like the world was her stage and it beckoned to her every move.

"I��uh…sorry…" He scrambled to his feet as she towered over him, a look of annoyance plastered on her face as she took another drag and puffed it into the already clouded air. When he got to his feet and brushed his jacket off, he winced at the still open door that spilled into the street that he'd just been chased down. He closed it with two hands and huffed, turning back towards this mysterious stranger. And from this angle, he was almost stricken with how beautiful she was.

"Hey I'm smokin' here! Why'd you close the door?" She whined.

"I think you'll live." Stan muttered, catching his breath, searching around the room for something to barricade the door closed.

"Who the hell are you, anyways?" She asked, more inconvenienced than upset, watching him scramble about.

"No time to explain! Just help me keep this door shut, toots!" She eyed him suspiciously and crossed her arms. He looked at her with a pleading look and sighed, rubbing his eyes together with one fist. "Please?" He asked. The woman groaned and dropped her shoulders.

"Fine, fine." She said huffing. She threw him an old pipe from a pile of metal scraps and broken show signs in the hallway and Stan made a makeshift lock so that no one could barge in without exerting a good amount of effort. She came up right behind him and fastened a small chair and placed it underneath the door handle, making sure it was secure. She took her arm in his and put out her cigarette on a small ash tray by the door and lead him hastily to a small door down the hall. Upon entering, it looked like makeshift dressing room. He ran in and caught his breath, the lady shutting the door abruptly behind her.

"Y'know, most times I don't let strange men into my room until at least the third date." She said putting her hands on her curvy hips. Stan propped his forearm on a beam and wiped the sweat off his forehead panting a little from all the excitement. When his head cleared enough for him to realize she had just back handedly insulted him, he felt his face turn red.

"Hey! I'm not strange! Besides, y-you're the one who pulled me in here!" He said smoothing out his beige leisure suit and shook his head. "Strange men my ass…geez, women are so paranoid." He muttered under his breath, irritably. He'd had just about enough of today.

"How about I throw you back onto the street? Hello? I'm also the one who saved your ass back there!" She said, strutting over to him and poking an accusatory finger into his chest with force. "Where's my thank you?" She said crossing her arms definitely. Stan sighed and decided he needed turn on his charm to smooth his way out of this one, that is, if he wanted to stay hidden from Sergeant Amos and Deputy Jones. He grabbed her chin between his pointer finer and thumb, giving her a warm smile.

"Thank you, princess." He noticed her face flushed with a rose tint.

"I…y-you're welcome." She was trying to act big and tough, but Stan could see a quiver of weakness in her eyes, and he thanked his lucky stars for his natural wit and charm, and that he wasn't his twin nerdy twin brother.

"You got a name, sweetheart?" He asked. She gave him a look and smiled.

"Eliza. Like in 'My Fair Lady'." She held out her hand and Stan took it gently in his, grazing her knuckles with his stubbled lips. "But you can call me Liz." She said, walking her fingers up Stan's torso.

"My fair lady indeed….Liz, I like it. Pretty name for a pretty gal like you. I'm Staley Pines. But…you can call me Stan. Nice to meet ya." He said with an award winning smile.

"So, you man of mystery, I know I'm probably gonna regret asking this and regret letting you into my dressing room but, who or what exactly, did I just save you from?" She took a few steps closer with each word til she was inches away from his face, fiddling with the hem of his coat. He didn't know if she was pickpocketing him or just feeling him up. Either way, he didn't care.

Stan gulped and tugged on his jacket collar.

"See, if I told you, where's the fun in that?" He chuckled nervously.

"Oh look—my dressing room telephone…" She pulled away and grazed her hand over a pink rotary next to her lit up mirror and a few make-up brushes. "Hello? Hello operator? There's a strange man in my dressing room that won't leave me alone…" She pretend to be on the phone and twisted the wire between her little fingers, feigning fright.

"Alright, alright! I'll tell you, just—just put the phone down, shortcake." He held out his hands cautiously, as if he were talking her down from the ledge. "But… how do I know you're not just gonna call the cops for real?" She put her weight on one foot and played with the belt of her robe.

"I guess you'll just have to trust me." She said bopping him on the nose.

"Meh, cut it out!" He chuckled, gently swiping her hand away. "Fine…I was uh, I was sorta being…chased or something." He said sheepishly.

"Or something?" She asked, holding back a chuckle. "Who was chasing you?" She crossed her arms.

"Charley and Hudson Combs, L.V.P.D. Precinct nine." Stan waited for her to make the usual judge-y, freaked out or doped out reaction he'd usually gotten from everyone else, but she never did. She just nodded and raised an eyebrow, pulling a box of cigarettes from the breast pocket on her robe. She lit another cigarette and motioned for him to continue.

"I was… s-supposed to meet a few fellas about getting a few tigers and an alligator down across the boarder. Know what? I shouldn't be telling you this. You need plausible deniability." He winced, but there was still no reaction out of Liz except a slow, exhale of smoke from her drag and a nonchalant shrug of reassurance. Stan sighed. "…But when I met up with the buyers to seal the deal, they turn out to be undercover cops! They tried to arrest me but uh…" He chuckled proudly. "Let's just say these hands can get away from anything, out of any situation. I managed to outsmart 'em and get them off my trail…maybe just long enough to buy me some time to figure out my next move. But twiddle-dee and twiddle dumber put a slash in every one of my tires! Gonna cost an arm and a leg, too.

"So how'd you end up on the floor of my Long story short, I've been trying to outrun these asswipes for half an hour now!" He exclaimed.

"Well, why the hell didn't you just say so?" She asked casually, still holding out her cigarette with a bent wrist.

"What?" He asked, surprised at her accepting nature…or was he skeptical?

"Why didn't you say that earlier? It would've made things a lot easier! There's a secret stairway that goes up to the attic, dummy." She said matter of factly.

"Well, in a city like this, who knows who you can really trust? Or if…if you're a guy like me…" He said shifting uncomfortably. Eliza half smiled, knowingly.

"A hunky drifter with a thrill problem?" She asked giving him a look down. Stan ran his fingers through his hair and shot her a hand gun, winking.

"Haha, yeah!"

"Wait here." She said, turning around briskly and meandering towards the back of her boudoir.

"Look, Eliza… I appreciate you and all of this but I don't exactly have time to wait. I need to figure out what the fuck I'm gonna do! What if they come looking for me here? I left the bike outside, I mean…I'm toast! Christ on a saltine cracker…" He took a flask from his pocket and guzzled down a large swig of whiskey.

"Calm down, mon cher," she had disappeared behind a drape and he heard her fiddling through what sounded like a dresser or drawer of some kind. "You're bumming my good mood. Besides, all you need, is a little wardrobe change!" She sang.

"What the fuck?" Stan muttered to himself. "What the hell does a wardrobe change have to do with getting me off the hook? So I can take a prettier mugshot?"

"God. Men are so lucky to have women. You're all hopeless. Without us, you'd be chasing your tails, itching your fleas and off starting wars." She called. "Oh wait, too late."

"That's debatable." Stan muttered, taking another swig of his drink.

"Hey pal, I have a strict alcohol policy here." She said coming around the corner with a new suit, some make up and a bag of mystery supplies. Stan put his flask away quickly and blushed trying to play it off cool. She set down her haul on her make up table and put her hands on her hips.

"No alcohol allowed." She frowned.

"Damn, you really know how to have fun, don't you?" He asked, putting it away.

"I said, no alcohol…Unless you're willing to share." Eliza extended her hand expectedly and Stan felt a sly grin grip at the corner of his lips. He shook his head and sighed.

"Guess I misjudged you, kid." He said handing her the flask. She twisted one the top.

"Guess you did." She said taking a giant swig, both alarming and impressing Stan at the same time.

"You nervous or something? What's got you so thirsty?" He chuckled, amused as she wiped her mouth with her arm and handed him his flask back.

"Pre-show nerves. And there's a very devilishly handsome stranger in my boudoir." She hummed.

"Devilishly handsome, eh?" Stan tried to appear more confident and put together than he really was and leaned on the side of her mirror, like he'd seen James Dean do many a time in the movies."Hey, what's the plan with those? This devilishly handsome stranger needs to make like a bird and fly out of here, y'know…unseen." He stroked his chin, looking at the pile of stuff on her table.

"Cops can't arrest you if they don't recognize you." She said smiling, holding out the suit for him. It was flashy alright, it was black with electric blue lighting strikes and a silky pant to match. She had picked out a wig with long brown hair, and a fake mustache to tie it all together. It was a stretch, but better than anything he had on hand.

"Huh. You really think this disguise can hide me from the cops? Don't you think it's a little too…sparkly? What if I just draw attention to myself?"

"Thats the point! If you were trying to outrun the law, the last thing you'd be doing is going to a sketchy variety show at a dingy night club. You'll be hidden in plain sight! Besides, I've never met anyone who can grow a mustache in under half an hour, Stanley." She raised her eyebrows and Stan felt his stomach settle for the first time all day. This might actually work.

"I like your style, kid. That's impressive. Crazy, but we might be able to pull this off." He said taking the costume and draping it over one arm.

"Are you crazy? Of course we will. I didn't grow up learning how to make myself eight years older with my pageant make up for the fun of it…" She paused and winked. "I did it to help disguise shady figures and get them into the witness protection program."

"Pageants, huh?" Stan asked, masking a snort. Eliza was amused that he didn't even question her comment about the witness protect program.

"Yes." She gritted her teeth and pushed her hair behind her ears.

"Isn't Miss America supposed to be a role model or something? Like a goody two shoes in an expensive dress?" Eliza rolled her eyes.

"You have no idea." She shivered slightly and rubbed her arms quickly.

"You know doll, I did have this under control. But I appreciate the help anyways."

Eliza smirked.

"Right. Until you came stumbling in here with a broken bike and into the arms of a half naked stranger in a leotard? Yeah. Sounds like you have everything under control." She looked amused and Stan blushed. "It's a good thing you're cute." Stan puffed out his chest and cracked his knuckles.

"What can I say? I'm adorable! People can't get enough of me, even the cops keep ridin' my ass from here to New Jersey." Eliza giggled into her hand and adjusted her robe. Stan couldn't help his wandering eyes as they surveyed this lovely stranger he'd stumbled upon, literally, and the slip in her robe near her chest that was opening up just enough to get a better look. She was a good foot and a half shorter than he, with high cheekbones, long blonde hair and big, blue eyes. She had a small trail of freckles lining her nose, and they way her small waist and big hips swayed with every word she said, beckoned Stan to come closer.

"That's debatable." She smirked, turning around, hair hitting Stan square in the face. But he didn't care—it smelled like vanilla ice cream and babies' laughter.

He watched as she made her way behind a curtain and motioned him to look away. "Do you mind? I have to get ready… And you need to get into that suit, pronto."

"R-right, sorry…" Eliza slipped behind a pink curtain by the velvet couch and disappeared. He instinctively turned around and crossed his arms, hearing a zip and a tug here and there. Stan's face flushed and began to shed his layers and put on the blue suit while Eliza was still getting her dress on.

"Where did you say you were from?" She called.

"Uh…that depends. I've been banned in seven states including my hometown…"

"Seven states? No way." She said impressed "And you're hometown…Which is…?" She asked.

"Glass Shard, New Jersey. Born and raised. But like I said, I'm not exactly…allowed back. Got a lot of angry people with fake pitch forks waiting for me if I ever do." He chuckled.

Eliza peered around the satin drape and looked pleasantly surprised when she got a good look at Stan. And vice versa. Her robe had disappeared and she was now wearing a sparkly a two piece set, with a white, bedazzled, form fitting tank top and matching pants with bell bottoms and platform heels that almost brought her up to Stan's chest. She had on big, circle, blue tinted glasses and her hair was teased.

"Very nice. Very Bowie." She said signing Stan to do a turn around with her twirling finger.

"Not so bad yourself, toots. Damn. You're a sight for sore eyes. What I wouldn't give to be walking around the streets of Vegas with a gal like you on my arm." He took her hand and twirled her around slowly, ending her in a dip, locked in his arms. They stayed like this, locked in time for a minute and Stan's eyes wandered to her pink lips, so soft and so thick.

"I mean…if you play your cards right…" She said, the breath taken away from her by their embrace. There was a moment—just a fleeting moment—where he thought she might want to kiss him back, but before she could there was a knock at the door and Stan nearly dropped her on her head before catching her mid fall. She hit his arm and dusted herself off, scoffing. She put a finger to her lips and motioned for him to be quiet.

"Eliza? Your little girl group is on in fifteen. Sage Green is finishing up her last set." A male voice called from the other side of her door.

"Thanks Julio." She called, turning back to Stan, she sighed and went to get the fake mustache and matching wig. "Now then, after you put this on, you're on your own. I have a show to do." She took the mustache and applied a thin line of glue on its sticky side, and stood of her tip toes to reach Stan's upper lip. She stuck it under his nose and smoothed the edges, her fingertips brushing against his lips every now and then. Next, she fitted the wig over his head. Her hands pulling and tugging at his hair was doing more than he'd care to admit. But the look was pretty convincing…and Stan couldn't deny her obvious expertise.

"One more thing…" She reached for her makeup palette and grabbed a brush readying herself to work on Stan's face.

"Woah, woah, woah…that is not touching my face, doll face." He said defensively. "Guy's don't wear makeup! I'm not some kind of sissy." Eliza raised an eyebrow and snickered to herself, dipping the brush in a red color, then a blue, then a black.

"There is so little you understand about the world, Stan. Get your head out of your ass. Do you want to look convincing for the cops or not?" She asked. Stan looked at her, then the make up brush with powder on the end and sighed.

"Fine. But you better not make me look bad." He said. After a few moments of breathing in Eliza's perfume which was a heavenly blend of amber and childhood wonder, he began to grow tired of the poking and prodding of the prickly brush and wondered how the hell women could sit still and do this for hours when he could barely sit still for five minutes. He had a newfound respect. He liked having Eliza stand so close to him, he could hear all the small catches in her breath as she honed in her focus, their lips barely inches away from each other. "I still don't understand how this is gonna help."

"Of course you don't," she sang. "C'mon, admit it, you secretly love this. I know you do." She found his discomfort quite hilarious but Stan just groaned in annoyance.

"Oh yeah, I love getting stabbed in the eye. Feels like I'm kissin' a porcupine. Hey!" He flinched. "Be careful with that thing—you're—you're getting powder in my cornea!" He blinked, scrunched his face up and tried to rub the make up out. Before he could start messing up all her hard work, Eliza scolded him and slapped his hand away. "Great, just great!"

"You big baby. Hold still…" She hissed. "Aaaaand…all done." She stood back and tilted her head. She looked pleased with herself. "Take a look." She stood behind him as he checked himself out in the mirror. And he had to admit it, she make him look like an entirely different person. The wig and mustache combo made him look like a young and hip club goer, and the suit didn't look half bad. What really threw him was the fake black eye she had given him, he assumed with the red and blue make up.

Somehow, she had managed to re-sculpt his face with what little make up she used and he was amazed. He put his hands on his hips and beamed. "And thus, Stanwick Pinestone was born." She winked at him through her reflection.

"You can really do all this with make up?" He looked intrigued, admiring his newly sculpted jaw line.

"Duh! I told you! Make up is the most magical tool in the world. It can turn you into anyone you want to be; on stage and off. Now that's my kind of thrill. It probably doesn't beat illegally smuggling exotic across the Mexican border or being on the FBI's most wanted list, though." She eyed Stan who was rubbing the back of his neck."One thing I do know, is that those guys aren't looking for someone with a black eye and a mustache." She crossed her arms and cocked her hip to one side with pride.

"Lizzy, you're a genius! But the good kind!" He picked her up by her waist without thinking and spun her around in the air. She laughed and gripped tightly onto his forearms, throwing her head back with pride. The thin, blue veiled skirt attached to her was it billowed around and twirled as she did. When he put her down they both took a beat and chuckled uncomfortably.

"I just meant—you—well…thanks. For this." Stan rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "You really are somethin' else." This time, he found it in himself to give her a real, genuine smile.

"Just don't get arrested, I will need that disguise back." She laughed. "And you know what? The mustache combo isn't a bad look for you, in fact, I think it's kind of sexy."

"Yeah, not bad, huh? Let's just hope its enough to keep me out of trouble…for now." He checked himself out in the mirror a few more times, smoothing his fake hair back and stroking his brand new stache.

"Not that I'm not enjoying our little pow-wow, but I do have to get to stage before they cut our act altogether. Are you good from here?" She asked, grabbing a little tiara from a shelf by the door and placing it on her head.

"I'm good from here…" Stan paused when he turned around and noticed the glimmering crown placed carefully on her head. "…Princess." He flashed her a smile.

"You can stay and watch y'know…if you want…" She said.

"Hey, I gotta act the part anyways, right? Can't give it away too soon." Stan said cooly. "Might as well stick around and pretend like I'm having fun. Y'know, sell the look."

"I swear to god, if my girls don't show up soon, I'm going to throw up." She said adjusting her hair and costume.

"Your girls?" Stan air quoted, squinting.

"Ellie and Betty…they're my partners. We sing together? In the variety show."

"What's your act?" Stan asked.

"We're all named Elizabeth…does that count?" She shrugged making Stan chuckle. "The Three El's…it's—it's a work in progress." He could see her blush in the mirror as she powdered her face.

"Oh joy. There's three of you?"

"Hey, I'll have you know we're very popular! Any day now and we'll have a real residency here in the city. Just you wait." She squinted and pointed, getting right up in his face.

"I have no doubt about that. Who wouldn't love you?" He said, coming off as way more confident than he felt, and it was secretly making Eliza's knees weak. She blinked and shrunk off her tip toes.

"If they show up…I hope they're okay. They know how important this show is for us! It's exposure!"

"Hey doll, cheer up! Even if they don't…who need's em? You've got that crowd in the palm of your hands. Knock 'em dead! Break an ankle! Isn't—isn't that what they say in theatre or whatever?" He asked, rolling his wrist.

"Something like that…You're not totally wrong." She said, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"Course I'm not! I'm always right!" He gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze.

"And hey…" He lifted her chin. "If you need someone to play off of, I'm already dressed for the part, huh?" He stretched out his arms and did a turn around.

"You know, you're pretty alright. For a criminal." She winked.

"You're not so bad yourself, y'know… for a pageant queen." He replied. She looked side to side, taken a back slightly.

"How did you…my title?" She shook her head, scanning his face.

"I used to live in Jersey! A.k.a, pageant capital of the East. I know a first place tiara when I see one, kid." He looked up at the little, silver crown on her shelf right above them, picked it up and fitted it on the top of her head gently and she blushed furiously, stunted for words. He mustered all of the courage he didn't have and bent down to kiss her quickly on the cheek. Her face was completely red now, she absent mindedly touched the place he had kissed with her fingertips and smiled, immediately snapping out of it and the color from her face draining at the reminder that she had to go on without her two counter perfomrers.

"Well—partners or no partners! The show must go on! I've gotta get going! Shoo!" She ushered him out the door and she waved as she fled through the hall, but not before turning around, running up to Stan and giving him a quick, hesitant peck on the lips, returning the favor and leaving him stunned and frozen in place. It was…electric. It made him wonder what her lips might've really tasted like.

"Thanks for the drink, Stanwick. See you out there! At least try to act like you're having fun." She saluted him and disappeared into throw two big, double doors, leaving Stan to his own agenda. He already missed her, and wondered how could so much change in the span of half an hour, after having lived without her his entire life.

He entered the main stage area complete with a piano, a bar, a microphone and sea of weirdos clinking glasses and dancing with the disco music blaring from the speakers. He did exactly as him and Eliza had planned, he grabbed a drink, mixed and mingled and tried to stay as calm as he could. He was actually starting to feel like things were going to be okay, until he saw the two cops that were chasing him, slip through the back way and spill into the room. All sense of confidence abandoned him and he began to worry that their entire idea was a bad one that would put him directly in arms reach of the people he was running from. Stan anxiously began to shuffle through the crowd, dodging investigative eyes.

He started to panic, to fear, to imagine himself locked behind bars with no family that cared enough to come and find him. His thoughts were racing, till he felt pressure on his wrist. For a split second, he wondered if his time had finally come. But when he turned his head, he saw Eliza, practically glowing underneath the disco lights, grabbing a hold of his wrist.

"Eliza?" He pulled her in close, sure she could hear the pounding of his heart. She pulled away with a panicked look as well—had she seen something she didn't want to?

"Stanwick, I need your help!" She looked at him with pleading eyes, and Stan melted under the veil of sweet relief that he hadn't been caught yet. Her disguise was working. She pulled him to a back room behind the stage and caught her breath, fanning herself. "I'm going to kill them, I'm going to kill them!" She said frantically.

"Careful, sweet thing. You're still in ear shot of the cops, they came through the front like fifteen minutes ago!"

"Well, they haven't found you yet!" She said dismissively. "Look. You gotta help me. El and Betty—my scene partners, bailed on me! They were supposed to be in costume with their heinies on stage fifteen minutes ago, and no one has seen them! And I need someone to fill in for them and make this a duet. And that someone is gonna be you!" She took his shoulders and shook him.

"Woah, woah, woah there is no way that I'm getting up there with this—"

"You said you'd help me!" She frowned and it was adorable. "Consider it pay back for saving you life!" She put emphasis on the end expectedly.

"Doll, I can promise you, nobody, and I mean nobody—including you—wants to hear me get on that stage and sing. It ain't happenin'. Being a silent stage prop, now that's more up my alley." He said defiantly. Eliza huffed and looked around, as if to find an answer to her situation. "Besides, I thought you said you could handle it by yourself?" Stan said.

"Thinking about doing it yourself is a hell of a lot different than actually doing it by yourself, you know! I didn't think they'd really bail on me!"

"Not…happenin'." He said firmly.

"Look, if you help me with this, I—I'll get you a ride. Anywhere you need to go. I know a guy that works here at the club with a limo we can borrow." She said. Stan looked apprehensively at the stage doors, and then back to Eliza's pleading face. He must've been absolutely out of his damn mind. "Seriously, he can get you anywhere you need to go, but I can't go up there alone and sing a song meant for two or three people by myself!" She pleaded, clasping her hands together. Stan sighed and his shoulders dropped.

"Fine. Since you're practically humping my leg…I'll…I'll do it." He said begrudgingly. Eliza squealed, throwing her arms in the air and then wrapping them around Stan's neck happily.

"Thank you, Stan! I'll make it up to you, I promise!" She hung around his neck like a necktie.

"Kid, this ain't gonna be pretty. I'm warning you now." Eliza dropped down to her feet and grabbed his wrist, pulling him through the bustling dancers and to backstage.

"Just follow me, I'll lead. And…don't worry about those cop guys. They won't bother you." She said slowly.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, kid."

The next few minutes were spent getting the stage equipment ready for singing, and touching up their hair and costumes. It was a smaller club, but everyone involved seemed to be eager to put on a quality show for their patrons. The stage lights shifted and Eliza and Stan stood with hand held microphones with anticipation, his bad and her's good. She took his hand in hers and gave it a little squeeze as the club owner, a tall man with about fifty gold chains around his neck and a mouth full of silver grills announced them.

"Give our little girl a round of applause. To continue our night of nostalgia variety show, Eliza and her—friend will lure us into a night of romance with their rendition of a timeless classic." He said, turning around to face them. He whispered to both them within ear shot:

"If I see those two, it's their heads and your ass. Don't fuck this up." They both nodded.

As the curtains pulled back, the heat and harsh light from the stage lights nearly blinded him, throwing a hand over to shade his eyes out of instinct. Eliza was already posing, holding the microphone like she'd rehearsed what spot to be in. She was absolutely beautiful under the glow of the overheads. But it didn't distract Stan from the burning sensation in the pit of his stomach. The last time he'd gotten up on stage was when he was faced with the decision to be in a high school production for community service hours or face suspension because he had busted into the gym and stolen equipment and left a half smoked joint behind. He was usually prepared for anything, but this wasn't something he was ready to jump head first into.

Stan immediately recognized the song being played on the piano as 'Ain't No Mountain High Enough'. This was gonna be rich.

Stan put on his ultimate con-man facade, to pull off one of the greatest scams ever, tricking this crowd into thinking he could sing. He followed Eliza's lead clumsily but kept up pace. He noticed the uproar in the crowed when Eliza's verse came on and her smooth as silk voice echoed through the microphone. She had the audience completely captivated, and as they came together in harmony, they soon both had them eating out of the palms of their hands, cheering and moving to the rhythm blindly. Eliza's stage presence was unlike anything Stan had ever seen in his life, she was graceful, smooth, confident and…shining. Literally, she was glowing like a star in the night sky. The way her hips moved, and how to crowd moved with her, was intoxicating. It almost made Stan enter late on the second chorus.

As they sang, Stan noticed the two cops swaying in the audience too, as if they had been dismissed from duty like nothing had happened. They even made eye contact once or twice and…nothing. It was like they'd been caught into a trance of some kind…weird. It got him excited enough to really let loose on stage and get caught up in the rhythm of his singing partner and of the song. He and Eliza made a very convincing duet, their chemistry was electrifying the whole room, wether they intended for it to happen or not. Without the fear of being caught, Stan finally let his fun side run wild. He busted a move and tangled Eliza into his arms at every chance he got, conjuring a few excited screams from the ladies in the crowd. After shedding his jacket and letting his gold medallion shimmer in the disco ball's reflection, a pair of underwear was thrown at him and he smiled egregiously. He hadn't had this much fun in years.

Then just as the song ended, the crowd went wild and cheered for the new not-so-power couple. He saw the two cops high five and leave through the front entrance. He had never felt so alive. It was a rush like he had cheated death or gotten away with murder. He and Eliza joined hands and took a bow together, exiting stage left to make room for the other performers. As soon as they were back stage, they burst out into laughter and embraced passionately.

"That was so fucking awesome!" Stan let out a belly laugh, spinning Eliza around in his big arms. "Did you see those moves? I was on fire!" He cheered.

"And to think you tried to tell me that you couldn't sing! You lair! That was amazing!" She pushed a pointer finger into his chest. "I don't think I've ever seen someone throw underwear at a variety show!"

"I've never done anything like that before…I felt so alive. Being there with you—kid—that was…thanks. And…the way you saved me from jail tonight, nobody's ever stuck out their neck like that for me before."

She gave him a warm smile and looked at her feet.

"Don't mention it. You saw them leave too, right?"

"Walked right out that door after looking right at me right in the face! Idiots! Don't know how the hell that happened but who am I to argue with fate?" He ran his hand through his hair, still shaken up by that entire performance.

"Do you…still need that ride?" She looked up at him, a twinge of sadness in her big, pale, blue eyes.

"Well, I mean…if I got those guys off my back, maybe I could…stick around town a little longer. Y'know if the mood strikes me. I've got places to be and suckers to scam. Y'know how it goes." He tried to play it off as aloof, but wished he could just take her in his arms and never let her go again. Because the thought of walking away from someone like her was almost unbearable to think about. Funny how fast things can change on a dime.

"Well, you're always welcome on my dressing room couch. I could use a partner like you…maybe I'd actually be able to get out of this city, make a name for myself." She glanced over to the stage doors.

"Look, I know I con people for a living, so take what I say with a grain of salt but kid. I'm being honest when I tell you I've never heard a voice like yours before. And I've even been to Minnesota!" He barked.

"Thank you, I think?" She half smiled, unsure wether to take it as a compliment or not, considering who she was talking to. Nevertheless, she couldn't ignore the feeling in her chest, that felt like the warm glow of a sunset on an august evening like this one, where everything seemed absolutely perfect. They paused, unsure of what to say but very sure that neither of them wanted to part ways yet.

"Do you…I was supposed to get dinner with the girls but…they aren't here so…" She said twirling her hair anxiously.

"Girls shmirls…They didn't even bother to show up! I mean, you'd have to be pretty dumb to pass up an opportunity like that." He said.

"I just hope they're alright…It's not like them to miss a performance." She rubbed her arms, shivering slightly. Stan realized how cold it was back stage now that they were out from under the heat of the moment and of the crowded, musty stage room. He paused, then draped his suit jacket around her arms.

"I'm sure they just just got caught up in traffic or they're doing lines somewhere. Isn't everyone these days?" Stan smiled at her. "But hey, I gotta admit…kinda glad they didn't show up." Eliza blushed and pushed a strand of loose hair out of her face, almost completely engulfed in how big the jacket was, and how small she was.

"Yeah, who needs 'em anyway?" She said. It was then that Stan noticed a little dimple in the left corner of her mouth and a small gap between her front teeth. She was about as adorable as they come.

"So, you were inviting me to dinner?" Stan chuckled.

"It's funny…I seem to remember you offering to pay." She said sneakily.

"Hey, hey, woah…Let's not get ahead of ourselves here, what kind of man would I be if I enforced those toxic stereotypes? This ain't the nineteen-fifties anymore, baby. But if you're nice to me, maybe I'll buy you a shake."

"What a gentlemen." She said sarcastically.

"Come on, let's get out of these clothes. The sequins on this damn top are making my tits itch." She pouted.

"What happened to the 'third date' rule?" Stan put his arm around her and pinched her cheek. "Did'ya finally find your exception?" He grinned from ear to ear.

"Not a chance." She said putting her head on his shoulder as they walked to her dressing room. "I just don't wanna be worried about getting burger grease on this outfit."

They got back to her room, just as they had left it. Stan felt as though his life was now divided into two parts, before he met Eliza…and then everything that comes after. She freed herself of his grip, and disappeared again behind her changing curtain. Stan looked long and hard in the mirror before he took off his disguise. Was this some divine intervention to get him off the streets for good? Was Eliza some kind of heaven sent protector? He glanced over to a pair of arms that were held up and visible above the curtain rod. Her top was coming off and she stretched, letting out an adorable little grunt.

He changed back into his old clothes, that felt sweaty and smelled like cigarettes. His reflection turned from hunky drifter back to a lost, disheveled, low-life, con-man. Far from the world of glitz and glamour that he'd just been exposed to. He slumped his shoulders and sighed. Where had everything gone so wrong?

"Stan?" Eliza appeared in the mirror next to him, brushing his arm. She had removed her make up and her hair was now up in a messy ponytail, her small stature being devoured under the fabric of a baggy hoodie. The dark circles under her eyes were more evident now, she looked tired. Normal. Angelic.

"Nice to know you're still there under all that make up." Stan teased. She shoved him lightly in the arm and gazed at herself, standing next to him. Maybe she wouldn't let him in on it yet, but seeing them stand side by side brought her a great deal of comfort to her.

"Nice to know you're still an asshole under that wig." She reciprocated.

"Touche." He muttered. "So this is you? The girl behind the pop star?"

"I can be both…" She fixed her hair slightly and sighed.

"I don't know about you, but you better be careful, baby. I could get used to this." He chuckled and turned to face her, running a hand through her hair. She let her face rest in his giant palm and before either of them could think, they both leaned in, their lips touching at last. It was the perfect kiss, tender with purpose and meaning. Stan cupped her small face into his hand and ran his thumb along her ear. After what felt like an eternity of bliss, they pulled apart and looked at one another. Neither of them would admit it, but this was the first time in either of their lives that they felt they had been truly seen by someone else.

"Well, I could get used to that." Eliza said smiling. She was about to lean in for another kiss when she purposefully missed his mouth and whispered something in his ear instead. "Shakes first, kissing later." Stan shivered at her voice in his ear.

"You're making this so hard." He teased. Eliza looked down at his pants and then back up at him with a raised eyebrow and a smug look.

"No… just you." She bopped his nose and took his arm, leading him out the back door into the alleyway where he had entered from. He followed up with a loud, 'HA' and pointed a finger gun at her quick-witted remark.

"You're trouble alright…I like trouble….Maybe if you're sweet to me who knows where the night'll take us?" He escorted her down the street and into the bustling Vegas street.

"Who knows? If you buy me dinner, I might be nice to you." Stan stopped in his tracks and gave her a long knowing look. She was the one. He was done searching, but he'd never admit it to her, not till he was sure she felt the same way.

"What?" She asked, still holding his hand.

"Nothin'. Just thinking about how good that shake is gonna be when you pay for it." He chuckled and tickled her waist, bringing her back into a warm, tight embrace. They walked together, side by side, hand in hand to a greasy old diner underneath a train track that looked like the toilet water would give you sepsis, but as far as they were concerned, it was absolutely magical.

The rest of the night went off without a hitch, she laughed at all his jokes at the right time, and he listened when she told him about her dark and twisted past with American beauty pageants, her strained relationship with her mother and step father and how she planned to take over broadway one day. It was the best of times, and it was the worst of times. It was no secret both of them had had it hard the past few years trying to make it on their own, but they agreed that finding other people to sit in the shit-storm with you, made it considerably less horrible. It was the start to the beginning of a new chapter for both of them and they could feel it. It couldn't have been a more perfect night, and Stan even paid for the shakes.

[spoofy-drawings]

whats this??? full refs??? CRAZYYYY

new au just dropped! i dont have a name for it but uh meet them fluffies- next refs are Stan and Fiddleford!!

enjoy my au info dump under the cut teehee

Everything is just about the same until Ford gets to Gravity Falls for his studies, and then things change from there.

He does meet Bill, but does not fall for the flattery and decides against making a deal. Of course, when does Bill ever take no for an answer? He just kept coming back and bothering Ford for a deal, but repeatedly got turned down each and every time. Eventually, Bill started coming around because he started liking being an obnoxious little guy and bothering Ford. From there, he started getting a wee bit too attached to the jackalope!

Fiddleford never fell into the portal, in fact, it was Ford who did so, and he fell completely into it. Fidds shut the portal down on pure instinct. He fled and went back to his wife and son, but eventually felt guilty about it years later.

He returned to the lab, finding it untouched somehow. After rummaging through Ford’s things, he found a phone number labeled “S”. Fiddleford called, and Stan picked up.

Stan came RUNNING when he found out his brother was in trouble (and I mean let’s be honest bro had nowhere else to get to-)

However, they couldn’t start up the portal just yet, because Ford’s journals were missing. When Ford had fallen into the portal, Bill instead decided to protect him rather than attempt to kill him. Ford had requested that Bill hide his journals around the town so nobody could get hurt with the portal. So, Bill possessed a buncha rats and hid all three of them.

Searching for the journals wasn’t easy, and it took Stan and Fidds a LONG time to find them all. Mabel and Dipper DID in fact visit Gravity Falls, and have actually been doing so for a few years before they found Journal 3 and reactivated the portal for Ford to come back.

Ford didn’t come back alone though! Bill came with him, and boy does that little shit love being obnoxious. Bill grew way too attached to Ford during his years in the nightmare realm, and as a result is now way too attached the rest of the Pines family to start Weirdmageddon (or however you spell that-)

Anyways thats it for now- bye bye!

[0pawprint0]

All the autographs I got! The only person on my list I didn’t get was Matthew. His lines were long throughout the whole con. But I got a picture with him and he complimented my Shaggy cosplay, so I still consider it a win! He was super kind.

The Hazbin gang were all so sweet and talking to them was so much fun! They all seemed to love my Sir Pentious cosplay! Erika even asked for a pic to show Alex. He didn’t respond while I was there, but he’s a very busy person, so I get it completely ^^

I nearly cried when I got to meet Rob. I have looked up to him for so long and it was so amazing to finally meet him. He was as wonderful as you’d expect. It was super hard to choose which poster for him to sign because he plays so many characters I love. I ended up picking Donnie because TMNT 2012 is my favorite version and I never see anything for it. I was telling him about how even some of his super specific roles like Eric from The Little Mermaid 2 have stuck with me and he gave me a hug! He also addressed me in Donnie’s voice and knew how to spell my name without me even needing to tell him! Most people don’t spell it right. He also complimented my cosplay and asked me how to make it and everything (I was Sir Pentious that day). It was such a good time. I would talk with him all day if I could. I unfortunately didn’t get a picture with him because I didn’t have enough money (things tend to go wrong when I’m trying to save money and I had to pay to fix some things the month before fhfhfhdn). But I’m hoping to see him again one day and next time I will get a picture!

Grey was so fun to talk to! She actually had her hair put up with a pin to look like Azula (Avatar: The Last Airbender), another character she plays. She excitedly addressed me as Shaggy (the cosplay I was wearing that day), telling my sister and I to "throw Scooby Snacks at any monsters you see!" and told us not to unmask anyone :’) she’s so silly and fun I love herrr! She gave us a hug, too! Frank was super nice and loved the poster my sister brought for him to sign (she got it from an artist at the con) and he even did Scooby’s voice to us!

My sister is a big fan of Cameron Monaghan, so we went to his panel. She was able to get a pic and autograph with him, too! I don’t have the pictures with her because I don’t think she’d want me to post her face here lol.

I didn’t get an autograph from him because of money, but I also got to meet Johnny Yong Bosch! He’s most known for Ichigo from Bleach, but what I was excited for was talking to him about Danganronpa (he is Hajime and Rantaro)!

This is my haul I got from comic con (excluding the things that came with my ticket). I did, indeed, come home with 4 Miku figures. But one was free! Because at that booth it was buy 2, get 1 free.

I also got a Neighthan Rot doll for fairly cheap (they go as high as $70 online). Tbh a Monster High doll is the last thing I expected to get at a con, but I’m pretty down with it lol. Especially because it’s in great condition and still had his journal!

For the Harry Potter sticker and pin, we got those for free at a free Harry Potter trivia we went to because HP is my sister’s favorite book series. She also won a book she doesn’t have! It was like a Dumbledore side story (note: neither of us support or like Rowling as a person. She did not get any money out of us, as this was free).

The mushroom sticker was given to me by an artist as I passed their table! Their info is there on the sticker if you’re interested in their work!

The stickerssss! They make me so happy. There was so many more this artist had that I wanted, but I didn’t have the money for it, unfortunately. I got Ciel, Sebastian, Grell, and Undertaker (Black Butler), Bill, Stan, Wendy, Dipper, Mabel, and Waddles (Gravity Falls - they didn’t have Soos or Ford rip), Craig and Tweek (South Park), Sir Pentious (Hazbin Hotel), Stolas (Helluva Boss), Rampo (Bungou Stray Dogs), and Amaimon (Blue Exorcist).

This stuff came with my ticket! I LOVE the poster!

I didn’t get these, but I thought they were really funny.

Post 2/2

[scienceisneat]

this is so stupid oh my g

HIIII,,, SO UHH!!! me and my brother are writing a FIDDLESTAN fanfiction and in another fic after the one we r writing there is gonna be MASSIVE tate conent and i wanna INFODUMP ABOUT IT!!!

OK SO the sequal fanfiction persay is revolved around tate and his life because i'm hyperfixated on him and i LOVE HIM OK SO in this universe, stanley never breaks Fords project, Ford ends up going to his dream college, and Stan goes to backupsmore and meets FIDDLEFORD!!!!!! They make a computer company and a bunch of other shit will happen (NO SPOILERS, WINK WINK!!) and after all of that they adopt Tate:333!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! so yeah basic rundown and whatnot ANYWAYS MOVING ON

the sequal will bascially be Tate in his sophmore year in highschool (1997) and he meets a kid named BRODY BACKLE!!!! (a lot of people have a oc named/based on "backle" but i found that out AFTER me and my brother made him.) Brody is kind of a reckless guy, he gets close with Tate and they become best "freinds" (there is A LOT of homoerotic tension with them) they do normal teenage stuff persay Brody makes Tate do reblalous things aganist his dad's rules, and genuinely becoming KIND OF AN ASS.

I WANNA DESCRIBE HOW THEY LOOK IN THIS OSHJSS

So for context Tate is 15 and Backle is 16

OKOK

Tate used to wear; sweaters, (Knitted by Fiddleford) cargo shorts, big bulky sneakers, HATS. and very soft kind of look (me and my brother joke all his outfits are picked out by Fiddleford) BUT AFTER he meets Broody he dresses in oversized band shirts, baggy pants, beanies, backwards hats, and of course his hair covering his eyes because by god in my au his eyes are BLINDING like the bluest eyes you have ever SEEN.

Brody/Backle wears; bascially the same thing Tate would wear minus the hats, His head is shaved with blonde hair, his ears STRECHED TO THE MAX, pircings EVERYWHERE and genually like ur averge alt guy, he chills out when he gets older tho

They never OFFICALLY GET TOGETHER (as if rn) but they do kiss, hold hands, get matching stuff, cuddle, hug, all that mushy couple stuff they do (When they get older i might get them together who knows,,) when they get older they created the bait shop together, they spend a shit ton of time together they are INSPERABLE, they own a house together near the bait shop, (no homo, Brody says whenever someone asks about it)

Tate (when he gets older) would wear ; what he wears in the cannon gravity falls universe but looser because dear god holy shit. when he isn't working he would wear button ups, with hand knitten sweaters made by Fiddleford, cargo pants, and very beat up shoes with of course, a hat. So bascially what he wore before he met Brody kind of thing

Brody would lowkey dress the same as he did when he was youger, when he's older, he usally wears band tee's with a flaneel drapped over it (all of his flanels were owned by Tate at one point, he would have blonde wavy longish hair and is a genually chill guy.

in they older years, Tate and Brody spend most of their time (when they aren't working) fishing, talking about endless stuff never ending coversations, Brody never really opens up to anyone that isn't Tate (Broody lore coming soon). ALSO, Brody is VERY affectionate to Tate like thats his number one thing in the entire UNIVERSE right there, Tate has a hard time giving love out to Brody, he doesn't understand how to do it or how it works, Brody understands and he knows Tate loves him back.

When they were teenagers, Brody always stayed at Tate's house, never really going to his own. Stan and Fiddleford see him as another member of them family at that point, Brody would spend weeks at the pine's house, Brodys parents lowkey stopped gaf about Brody after 5th grade so his parents did not care he was spending most of his time at this random kids house

Tate's first kiss was Brody, they usally got affectionate when they were high or something along those lines, they kissed mulitple times, whenever Tate would ask what they were, Brody would ignore the subject leaving Tate confused and upset. When they got older they eventually sorted everything out leaving all the tension behind them.

ok i'm getting sleepy sorry if this is shitty my autistic brain needs to rant to someone and the someone is tumblr so, yay

[masontheevildm]

Fuck…sigh

Okay, this is my first gravity falls fanfic, kill me with rocks or wtver… I feel embarrassed

A small mabcifica one-shot

My Compass Points Northwest

When the love-letter arrived, they all thought it was a joke.

“I mean, come on, Mable. Who would actually send you this?” Dipper said, squinting at it.

“It doesn’t even have a name! This could be some jerk trying to hurt you-or a monster trying to lure you somewhere!”

Mable rolled her eyes. Turning fourteen had NOT chilled her brother out. Infact, he was more anxious than ever.

“Dip, you need to chill. Not everybody is out to get us.” She shoved him playfully. He grinned, shoving her back.

Stan sighed from his chair, putting the newspaper down.

“Listen pumpkin. If a guy isn’t man enough to ask you on a date himself, then maybe you shouldn’t go.”

Dipper gave him a scowl for that. He was a bit touchy about the “manliness” thing. Back home, people still considered him a girl. Gravity falls was the one place that didn’t really know, except for their grunkles. Stan grunted out an apology.

“Sorry kiddo, but it’s true. Why even show up if they don’t care enough to ask you to their face?”

Mable sighed dramatically, falling onto the rug with a sigh.

“Because it’s more romantic! Expressing your feelings through letters is like, the best way to get a girls attention! You guys don’t know anything about romance.” She frowned. Why couldn’t they just let her have this?

Grunkle Ford swung by the living room after grabbing his coffee.

“Maybe you should be careful, sweetie. What if it’s the gnomes?” A concerned look washed over his face. Mable wrinkled her nose.

“Ew! But guys, if it was a monster, why are they asking to meet me at Greasy’s? That’s like, the least inconspicuous place ever.” She rolled her eyes. Ford looked at her with his eyebrows slightly pressed together in concern.

“Alright. If you want to go, take this. Just to be safe.”

He handed her a crossbow. She grinned and shoved it into her belt. She quickly hugged him and stood.

“I need to find my best sweater!” She announced, racing to the attic. Dipper just sighed.

“Mable’s gonna Mable.” He shrugged and picked himself off the carpet.

Ford went to protest about the use of verbs.

“He’s right. Mable’s gonna Mable.”

When Mable slid into the booth at Greasy’s, she didn’t expect a black hooded figure with their face covered to be sitting across from her.

Okay, a little creepy, but as long as they weren’t gnomes, she could work with this.

However, before she could say anything, the figure spoke, slightly pulling off their mask.

“…Hi Mable.”

“Pacifica?!” Her eyes widened. Pacifica leaned across the table, trying to quiet her.

“Shh! Nobody is supposed to know I’m here.”

She sounded…tired. Like she had run a mile to get here. Mable frowned slightly.

“But…what are you doing here?” She asked. If this was a prank, she was gonna be super mad. She had went here on a date, but if this was a weird rivalry thing-

“Did you get my letter?” Pacifica shifted in her seat, bringing Mable out of her thoughts. She looked nervous, way more nervous than Mable had ever seen her before. Tufts of brown(brown? Since when did Pacifica have brown-) hair poked out of her hood. Mable slowly nodded, eyes narrowing.

“Yea, you called me here for a date. Look, Paz, I thought we got over this rivalry stuff, this isn’t funny-“

Paz leaned over the table and kissed her.

It was…nothing like she expected.

I mean, sure, she had kissed before-she definitely remembered Mermando(her AND her brother’s first kiss, ew), but this was nothing like that.

Paz’s artificial strawberry chapstick was sickeningly sweet, and Mabel couldn’t get enough. Even though it was fleeting, it warmed her entire face, and heart. Mabel stared at her, lipstick slightly smudged, eyes wide.

Paz looked down.

“You tell nobody, okay? Nobody that this happened.” She sputtered out. Mabel just nodded, in shock at what just happened.

Pacifica Northwest, the most arrogant, bitchy, manipulative, lying girl she ever knew, had just kissed her.

She had just kissed Pacifica Northwest.

She must’ve gotten home somehow, walked or something, but she didn’t remember that.

She must’ve said hi to her family, and told them some lie or something about her date, because they nodded and left her alone.

But the next thing she remembered was sitting on her bed, sweater to her chest, staring at the ceiling. Dipper was looking at her, concerned.

“Mabel? You alright? The date go that bad, huh?” He asked. She didn’t answer for a few seconds, before turning over to him.

“Dipper.” She whispered.

“I think I’m in love.”

[allthemusic]

Week ending: 18th February

Well, we've got three returning artists this week, each following up their previous success with a predictably similar-sounding track, capitalising on the initial hits' popularity. Seriously, if you look at who the artists are this week, you can probably predict my verdict already - the trajectory's not that hard to guess.

Pretty Blue Eyes - Craig Douglas (peaked at Number 4)

Last time Craig graced our humble blog, he was looking back nostalgically on his youthful 16-year old innocence - aged only 17. I didn't majorly love that song, but it was interesting to see him trying for some sort of twist. This song feels like it's trying to tap into that same sort of youthful innocence, without anything "clever" about it. It's just a straightforwardly cute cover of an originally American song about young love, and it's... fine, I guess? Not something I'm gonna be coming back to over and over, but it's okay, much like his last outing was.

We start with a vaguely Latin rhythm, picked out on guitar. It's not prominent enough to make the song feel like a Latin track, or anything, but it's just off-kilter enough to give the whole track a bit of oomph, keeping things light. Add in what sounds like a tambourine and some strings in the background, plus some echoey, spritely ooohs from the backing singers, and you've got something that sounds nimble and airy, tripping along in a suitably jolly fashion.

It maybe feels a bit lightweight, but that's fine - the lyrics aren't exactly up to much either. Instead, we've got lyrics about a pretty girl moving in next door to Craig. Naturally, he immediately falls in love, relating how he saw you from my window / My heart skipped a beat. The other guys in the neighbourhood agree, and so Craig decides that he's gonna sit by your doorstep / So that we can meet. Which, actually, the more I think about it, is real creepy. And it only gets worse as Craig begs, pretty blue eyes, please come out today / So I can tell you what I have to say / That I love you, pretty blue eyes. Classic romance, right there. You see a girl through the window. You don't speak to the girl. You don't even know her name, you just reduce her to a pair of eyes. You hang round her doorstep to profess your love to her. You write a whole song about her. You know, normal teen romance things.

Yeah, the more I listen to this one, the less I think it's cute, despite the fun, fluffy sound. Sorry, Craig. Pick a less creepy song to cover, next time.

On a Slow Boat to China - Emile Ford and the Checkmates (3)

Okay, so another artist we've seen before. I'm feeling good about this one. After all, I quite liked Emile's last single, What Do You Want to Make Those Eyes at Me For? There was a confidence to it, a swagger that I enjoyed. There were some questionable lyrics, by modern standards, but that aside, I came away with quite a favourable impression of Emile. And fortunately, he seems to be trying the same thing here, updating an old pre-rock and roll American standard in a new, doo-wop style.

As such, you we start with electric guitar, some snappy drums and a liberal helping of doo doo do-do-do backing. So far, so good. And then Emile comes in on the top, with some Elvis-style hiccups and hitches, but with a delivery that's otherwise straight out of a swing song, with lots of vocal showboating, as Emile sings about how I'd love to get you on a slow boat to China / All to myself alone. So, it's about Emile wanting some alone time with a special somebody. Of course, some drama then creeps in with lines about how he longs to leave all your lovers weeping on the faraway shore, and how he dreams of being out on the briny, with a moon big and shiny / Melting your heart of stone. The image is one of some sort of femme fatale, men falling at her feet, but coldly disintersted in Emile - until she's stuck on a slow, slow boat, alone with him. The possibilities are tantalising, like the set-up for a classic romantic comedy that I'd absolutely watch the hell out of.

I think I also appreciate the slightly odd, outdated specificity of it all, the fact that it's not just "I'd like to get you alone", but "I'd like to be trapped alone with you for the entirety of a particularly long boat trip to China". The song was written in 1948, when slow boats to China were, presumably, more of a thing, one has to assume - indeed, the original songwriter, Frank Loesser, is on record saying he picked a "slow boat to China" because it was the longest way of travelling anywhere that he could think of. It was also, apparently, a saying in poker circles, something you said not about a love interest, but about somebody who reliably kept losing. I presume the idea there was that you wanted to keep winning money off them? In any case, Loesser's using it in a much more literal fashion - at least I assume that Emile's not after his lady love's money. Though that would add a nice bit of extra drama to it all.

Actually, I think that's the film I want to see - Emile as a con artist who traps them both on a boat with the goal of seducing his disdainful but fabulously rich love interest, only to actually fall for her while they're at sea. And hey, the very next song could also feature, by the look of things...

Beyond the Sea - Bobby Darin (8)

You know this song. A cover of a French song, La mer, by Charles Trenet, it's instantly recognisable, even just from its intro, with its walking bass, and the back and forth between tinkling piano and muted trumpets, and once Bobby comes in, you know exactly what song you're listening to; it's the one that starts somewhere, beyond the sea...

I think I first heard this song in the credits to Finding Nemo. And honestly, I cant think of a better song for it. Because Bobby's version, as it stands, is a love song, and one that more particularly is about happy endings, and about being away from your love, but being certain that you're going to reunite. Hence lines about how my lover stands on golden sands, watching the ships coming in, and about how I know beyond a doubt / My heart will lead me there soon. And once he gets there, we'll kiss just as before / Happy we'll be beyond the sea / And never again I'll go sailing. It's like the reverse of all those "my lover has gone off to see and I might never see him again" songs, a sort of reassuring reminder that your love will come back, some day, that they probably miss you just as much as you miss them. It's lovely, and there's a warm, carefree feel to it all - and you can almost see the golden-toned montage playing over the top, the shots of Bobby's ship docking, of a pair of weary but happy eyes scanning the disembarking crew members, then feet running, arms embracing, and a kiss that blocks out the setting sun, seagulls crying overhead as they kiss. It's a big, cinematic moment, is what I'm saying, and I like it a lot.

It is interesting, though, because all these elements have basically been introduced by the song's translator, one Jack Lawrence. The original, written by Charles Trenet, is literally just about the sea. It was inspired by a train ride Charles took between Montpellier and Perpignan in the south of France, and I have to say, there's already a beauty to its description of the glimpses he got of the sea, with talk of it dancing along the shore, the waves transformed into white sheep, with the sea itself acting as their infinite azure shepherdess. We see flashes of reeds, of seagulls and of rusty tin shacks. And all of this has clearly had a profound impact on Charles, as with a love song, the sea has cradled my heart my whole life long. It's very pretty, and it's coming from a real tradition of poetic chanson songwriting that's often quite hard to translate properly - my approximations above don't really do it justice. So yeah, very French. I'm not shocked that the translator turned it into a love song, instead of trying to keep all that.

And as a love song, it's effective. Not just because of the cute "happy ending" vibes of it all, but also because of the performance Bobby manages to pull off, all warmth and longing, in exactly the same jazzy swing style that he adopted for his last hit, Mack the Knife. In many ways, this song sounds very similar to that one, actually, up to and including the brassy stabs that you've got throughout, the propulsive drums that kick in explosively around the 2 minute mark, and the little vocal twists and tics that Bobby uses to spice it up, all these little aha and ow interjections. He tones these down a bit - you simply don't need such a menacing energy when singing about heartwarming reunions with your love as you do when singing about a murderer skulking around 1800s London - but they're still a notable part of what drives the song.

Bobby's firmly into his "I do proper, adult music" phase, now, and I have to say, it's a good fit for him - a transition into more mature, classier music than, say, Splish Splash. Not that there was anything wrong with Splish Splash. But there's something a bit classier about this and Mack the Knife. It's a cut above your standard pop writing, and you get the sense that Bobby is enjoying getting his teeth into it.

I didn't hate any of our three songs, this week, but there was a definite trend line as I listened - while I didn't mind Craig, he pales next to Emile, who in turn simply isn't a patch on Bobby. I feel a bit bad for Emile, actually, because any other week he'd have certainly won this one. But hey, that's just how it works sometimes.

Favourite song of the bunch: Beyond the Sea

[frogtanii]

[buckle up; this one is a long one (1.6k words)]

things weren’t supposed to turn out this way.

she was supposed to show up, apologize “sincerely,” and the boys, her boys, were supposed to welcome her with open arms and swiftly discard of you.

instead, she was sitting in the back of a cramped police car with two pigs, one of which had a horrible b.o. problem and an affinity for sauerkraut.

it was so frustrating.

and, of course, it was all your fault.

you’d been blocking her from true happiness ever since the beginning when you’d first met in middle school. it was crazy because you’d actually seemed nice; kind, understanding, and you didn’t judge her for what her father did to her mother or for how she acted out because of that.

sure, you were a little weird and sometimes you could be downright rude to other kids in your class but you cared for her in a way that no one else had before.

(un)fortunately, you didn’t come alone — you were a packaged deal. your childhood friend, daishou, came into her life right along with you. she didn’t mind at first; daishou was fun when he wanted to be but he was mostly full of snarky comments and sarcastic quips.

the three of you spent all your time with each other; from playing at the playground to helping her begin her makeup youtube channel in 8th grade.

you all got along pretty well up until you got to highschool. once there, you threw yourself into your studies, sort of retracting yourself from her and daishou.

how selfish.

she couldn’t help but feel betrayed by you—you knew how bad she was at making friends and you didn’t even care, leaving her all alone to fend for herself.

well, not all by herself.

daishou was a constant. no matter where she was, or how alone she was feeling, he was there to provide entertainment at the most, and his presence at the least.

it wasn’t always the healthiest, most functional friendship, she could admit that. there were weeks that daishou would choose to ignore her for no apparent rhyme or reason, citing his explanation as he just didn’t feel like it.

obviously it sucked but he was her only friend, ever since you so cruelly abandoned them. i mean, you still ate lunch with them every day and invited them over to study and hang out, but it was not the same.

with you so absent, she grew closer and closer to daishou to the point she was spending almost every waking moment with him. and, as the story so goes, she fell for him, head over heels.

she knew it was a bad idea, if their friendship was anything to go off of but she didn’t care. she was desperate for love and physical affection and he seemed willing to at least give her the latter.

after she decided to confess, nerves all the way in her throat and a box of chocolates behind her back, daishou took her virginity in the back of his ford fusion, hard, fast and nothing like she’d imagined.

the next day, she’d cornered you in the library (where you always seemed to be) to tell you the good news. your face was unusually blank as she detailed the best night of her life to you, your response being less than stellar when she was done. “please be careful,” you had said.

what did that even mean? you clearly wanted to keep daishou safe from her which was ridiculous because weren’t you supposed to be her friend too? she’d stormed out of the library after that, determined to demand a kiss from daishou to make her feel better.

that day was one of the last that she’d see you for a while. you got caught up with clubs and schoolwork (and apparently therapy for god knows what) while she got caught up with daishou.

things with him weren’t... great. they never really were but things were getting even worse. his random bouts of silence got longer and though it was only freshman year and they’d been dating for less than 5 months, he’d meet with her after school with a hickey plastered on his collarbone that she knew she didn’t put there (she sucked even harder over the spot to claim it as her own).

as she said, things weren’t great but they weren’t horrible either. they remained that way all the way up until sophomore year.

you and her had drifted even further, hardly speaking to one another unless it was for a project or to vaguely greet one another in the halls. it was okay though. you had all your other friends and she... well she had daishou.

speaking of, her “boyfriend” had been more distant than usual. she wasn’t an idiot and she knew he’d been seeing other girls on the side, but she believed she would be the one he’d end up with, the one he’d marry.

how foolish she had been.

it was prom night and she felt beautiful. her beauty channel had finally begun picking up traction (she’d just hit 13k subscribers the night before!!) so she filmed a prom night makeup tutorial, making sure that every square inch of her face was perfect. donning a silky blue floor length dress, she felt like a princess and she certainly looked the part.

she showed up to daishou’s house about 30 minutes before the event, ringing his doorbell with an elated grin painted all over her face. he had mentioned in passing that his parents and older sister would be out for the weekend, leaving the house for themselves. that meant sex and sex meant being wanted.

after the third ring of the bell, she started to get nervous. maybe he wasn’t ready yet? maybe he needed help with his tie? just when she was about to wring the bell again, the door swung open to reveal daishou... not in his suit.

“oh, it’s you,” he’d grumbled. “‘m not goin’ to prom.” she felt her breath catch in her throat. she’d protested and begged for an explanation but he wouldn’t give one to her. eventually, she’d followed him into his house, furious because how could he do this to her? on her night?

it didn’t take very long for him to get fed up, his snake-like eyes honing in on her, filled with venom. “‘m not goin’ because i don’t like you anymore. you still look pretty though.”

just like that, with just a few words, he’d shattered her heart. she was frozen in place, completely disconnected from daishou, her love, as he not-so-gently pushed her out the door, slamming it in her face.

she felt tears stream down her cheeks and before she knew it, her legs were carrying her to a place she hadn’t been in months.

banging frantically on the door, she cried out, begging for someone, anyone to hear her. the door opened quickly and there you stood. you’d clearly been studying but as you took in her frazzled appearance, it seemed as though your heart broke.

you ushered her inside, sat her own the couch, and began to make her a cup of tea, your parents having been out for the night as well. once the kettle went off, you quickly prepped her drink and gave it to her, the words flowing out of her like liquid once she had taken a sip.

she didn’t know why she was even there but despite the animosity between the two of you, you seemed like you truly... cared. (neither of you mentioned the tears that stained your favorite t shirt or the quiet apologies you muttered into her hair).

that night quickly went and passed and by the next day, she was feeling rejuvenated and more like herself. however, that feeling quickly dissipated when she caught you in the hallway between classes speaking with daishou behind the stairwell in hushed tones.

within the span of a few hours, her heart had been broken twice and she was sure she’d never felt such heartache before.

she turned on her heel and darted away, avoiding your every attempt to talk to her for weeks and weeks until you just... stopped trying. after you’d cut off conversation, yet again, the sadness quickly festered and morphed into anger.

that anger only grew when she watched you graduate at the top of your class in your senior year, your smile blinding as you accepted your diploma. it only grew when she saw that you had made it into the university of your choice on your instagram story, her own rejection letter torn up in the bottom of her wastebin. it only grew when she saw you’d made your own youtube channel, her own going untouched and neglected (her last video had been a half-assed “get ready with me” that had more dislikes than likes due to her horrible makeup and even worse attitude).

soon enough, the rage had intensified until it had taken over her whole being. she was just so angry at all that you’d done to her, all the ways you’d ruined her life that she couldn’t keep herself from plotting your demise.

when she got the email from the hyper house management team that invited her into the house and offered the option that she could pick someone she wanted to move in as well, her anger turned into excitement.

this was her chance. this was her moment to turn your life into a living hell, to make it at least a fraction of what she went through by your hands.

she was going to make you pay and god, was it going to feel great.

the metal of the handcuffs chafed her wrists as she adjusted herself against the cool leather of the cruiser, the discomfort removing her from her reverie.

yeah, right. it seemed as though she was the only one “paying” right about now.

she tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling, tears filling her eyes but refusing to fall.

things definitely weren’t meant to turn out like this. not at all.

℗ poker face

not like this

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - OMFG THE BACKSTORY REVEALED I AM SO OVER IT >:(( this took me forever to write and i still wasn’t able to include everything i wanted to so hop over to my asks if you need any clarification!! oh oh && just a reminder, this playlist is from meiko’s perspective so chances are, things didn’t exactly go just like this wink wonk KAJS ANYWAYS DONT FORGET TO FEED ME ILY <3333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[nataliedanovelist]

GF & MvsM - Wanna Talk About Dinos?

This crossover was inevitable. It just works too well. Maybe one day i’ll write a fic about how the folks at Gravity Falls handled the robot-apocalypse. Probably shrugged it off. “Eh. We’ve had worse.” Haha! What if Stan and Ford, cuz they were out sailing, had no clue what happened and when they came back they were like, “Wait, what?”

For now, please enjoy this fic of Aaron making a new friend...

(credit goes to @stephreynaart for her OC Jacob) ~~~~~~~~~~ “Hi, would you like to talk to me about dinosaurs?”

Aaron asked this question more times than he could keep track of, but that wasn’t going to stop him from asking it. It started as a dare from his big sister two years ago, but now it’s a fun hobby. When fifth grade isn’t overwhelming him, scaring him with mountains of homework and horror stories about how hard middle school is going to be, and when he’s run out of YouTube videos to catch up on, he is on the hunt for fellow giant-lizard-lovers like a hungry Ceratosaurus.

“No, okay bye.” But it did get a little tiring to always cross out names and phone-numbers on the phone book with red ink. Hey, a dinosaur of a way to find phone-numbers was appropriate. He read the next number, dialed it, and after a ring or two he asked, “How would you like to talk with me about dinosaurs? No, okay thank you.”

Aaron crossed out another name and sighed, taking a break since he reached the end of a line of numbers. Maybe he should just be grateful for Abbey and accept that no one else wants to talk about the Jurassic Period. Or the Cretaceous Period. Or the Triassic Period. But then a big, old, gray-tinted ad distracted him. He grinned, thinking it would at least be fun to give them a call, and he dialed the number.

Private home phone-numbers were fun, but businesses were also fun! Poor, bored workers would gladly talk to him rather than crabby Karens, and they got paid for it! So Aaron smiled as the phone rang, and he grinned when someone picked up.

“Thanks for calling the Mystery Shack, you’re talking to Mr. Mystery himself! How may I befuddle or bewilder you?”

“Hi! How would you like to talk with me about dinosaurs?”

“Oh, dude! I’d love to, but I’m scheduled for a tour of the Oddity Museum in three minutes.” The man said, and Aaron grinned continuously, because it sounded like Mr. Mystery really wanted to talk with him about dinosaurs. “But hey! Can you hold on for one minute, I think I know a guy!”

“Yeah, sure mister!” And Aaron was greeted by the sound of a catchy jingle about buying t-shirts and mugs and snowglobes. He smiled and wiggled his feet along to the music as he looked outside at the beautiful late-fall afternoon, entertained while he waited.

~~~~~~~~~~

Soos was on the hunt. He planned out the house in his head. Abuelita was taking a nap upstairs, Melody was organizing the upcoming tour, and Stan took Jacob out for ice cream, so he might be…

The owner of the Shack grinned when he stopped at the doorway and saw the man he was looking for, sitting in Stan’s chair, reading a book.

“Uncle Ford!”

The old sailor smiled up at the young man. “Yes, wh-...”

“Do you think you could answer the phone for me? I have a tour and I think this customer’s request is right up your alley.”

“Uh… sure, but w-...”

“Thanks, you’re the best!” And Soos was gone before he could address Ford’s confusion.

Ford was a bit lost, having little to no business with business, but he had learned at this point to trust Soos, so he picked up the phone beside him and was immediately greeted with a sweet, “How would you like to talk with me about dinosaurs?”

Ford grinned and closed his book. “I would love to! All three periods are equally as fascinating to study, but the Triassic contains some of my favorite dinosaurs!”

A young voice gasped on the other line. “Mine, too! Everyone thinks the Jurassic period is so great, and it’s pretty cool, but the Triassic gave us Plateosaurus and the Brachiosaurus!”

“That’s very true! You know, it’s very interesting, maybe depictions don’t include feathers at all, which is a bit frustrating, but perhaps after the news has spread they will incorporate more feathers on merchandise and textbooks.”

“YES! That’s what I wanna do when I grow up, help draw better-accurate dinosaurs!”

~~~~~~~~~~

The phone rang on Sunday. The Shack was closed today, so Stan lazily answered it and was greeted with, “Wanna talk about dinosaurs?”

“Sixer, phone for you!”

Ford ran into the living room, elbowed his twin out of the chair, and took the phone. “Hello again, Aaron! Now, where were we? Right, so Australopithecus. … No, I don’t think… Oh! No, homo habilis was erect, Australopithecus was never fully erect.”

“Maybe he was nervous.” Stan groaned, getting to his feet.

Ford shot him a look as thankfully the young boy on the other end didn’t catch that and happily shared some more fun-facts about homo habilis.

~~~~~~~~~~

While most college students were excited for Spring Break so they could get drunk or lose their virginity, Katie was excited because her family had planned a special secret roadtrip. She was careful to keep up with her family and talk to her parents and brother frequently, but Aaron had a hobby he wasn’t talking about that his parents found out and were thrilled about. Aaron had made another friend.

Rick and Katie did some research and the tourist attraction sounded right up their alley! In the middle of the woods, tons of weird stuff, and a fun roadtrip filled with diners and attractions. They decided to surprise Aaron, and they made up a lie that they would spend Spring Break in California with Katie so she could show her family around San Francisco, when in actuality they would be traveling up the state to the Redwood Highway and see the oddity place, and maybe even allow Aaron to meet his new pen-pal. Or, um, phone-pal.

So after bombarding Katie with hugs the Mitchells threw her luggage into the car and drove off. Aaron turned to Katie and excitingly asked, “So where are we going first? Can we go fix the Golden Gate bridge by painting it gold?”

Katie laughed and ruffled his hair. “Maybe later, right now I wanna show you guys this fun store right outside of town. Here, check out the videos I made for my classes!” And she pulled out some airpods and gave one to Aaron.

“Cool!”

Rick and Linda smirked at each other as they drove north. By the time they reached a little diner in Redding, CA, it was very clear to Aaron that they weren’t in San Francisco anymore. “Come on, just tell me where we’re going!” The boy begged as he fed Monchi a fry.

“The best kind of prizes are the surprises.” Linda quoted.

“Eric, Deborahbot5000, where are we going?”

“Sorry, Aaron, we cannot give that information.” Eric said, he and the other robot sitting politely in their seats, happy to be a part of the social interaction.

“Yes, Mother will bury us if we disobey.” Deborahbot said matter-of-factly.

“What?! No I won’t, sweeties.”

“Won’t you ground us?”

The family laughed and Aaron let the topic go; if he was honest, he loved a good surprise. The big family stopped in a motel just at the California-Oregon border, and the next morning after muffins and coffee and orange juice they were on the road again, passing dozens of trees that made Rick feel at home. Katie happily recorded the trip, trusted to be the documenter for another fun roadtrip, with hopefully not as much mortal peril.

Aaron watched as they left the highway for a simple road, and they passed a big sign. The boy gasped and caught what was happening. “No WAY! Really?!”

“You know, I hear this Mystery Shack even has a Sasquatch.” Rick commented while Linda pulled out a pamphlet from the glove box.

“It says here it’s full of odd things you’ll never see anywhere else, even a dinosaur footprint…”

“Wasn’t there a rumor of there being a Bottomless Pit?” Katie asked, pointing her camera at Aaron to get his reaction.

“Thank you thank you THANK YOU!!!” Aaron cheered, hugging his Dad’s neck and kissing his Mom’s cheek.

“Hey, no worries, buddy.” Rick eased, fixing his shewed glasses. “We wanted to see this place, too!”

“Why don’t we eat a quick lunch and then we’ll take the backroad for the attraction? There’s a coupon in here for a diner made from a giant log!”

And so after being served by a pretty blonde teenager at Greasy’s, they drove through town to get to the backroad. Signs made them confident that they were going the correct way, as well as Eric and Deborahbot5000’s GPS. Then as they turned a corner, a big triangle-shaped building came into view. Aaron grinned at the giant sign with a missing letter. People were already leaving, arms full of souvenirs and one or two already wearing their new hats or t-shirts. Once Rick parked in the Free Parking Lot, Aaron spilled out of the car and ran for the shack, but he stopped.

Katie caught up to him and patted his back. “You cool, man?”

Aaron shrugged, holding his hands in front of him and his shoulders up to hide his face a bit. “I-I dunno… What if… What if he doesn’t like me?”

“Hey, I get it.” Katie admitted. “When I first met my friends I was really nervous. I had talked to them online for weeks and I was worried it wasn’t gonna be what it was all cracked up to be, but it was. Your system worked! You found another dino-lover! You earned this moment. Just take in a deep breath and be yourself, cuz you’re a pretty cool dude.”

Aaron smiled up at his big sister. “Thanks.”

Trusting Eric and Deborahbot5000 to watch Monchi and make sure he used the bathroom, the Mitchells went inside the shack. On the porch there was an ice cooler, a sign reading schedule times for tours of the Oddity Museum, a Help Wanted sign, and two rocking chairs with a game of checkers between them.

Inside the store a few customers filled up the gift shop, alongside t-shirts, snowglobes, a vending machine, a door beside ti that read Employees Only, a bookshelf full of comic on one side and old newspapers claiming alien sightings on the other, a fish tank holding a monkey-mermaid, and barrels full of spaceship keychains and dino claws. A new section called Camping Stuff caught Rick’s eye, selling backpacks, lanterns, flashlights, batteries, canteens, and compasses. Katie opened a comic called Lil’Stanley and laughed at the swears, taking a pic and sending it to her friends’ group chat. Linda looked into the barrel full of patches and grinned at all the fun designs, while Aaron stared happily at the mer-monkey.

The Employees Only door opened and closed and Rick watched as a man in a suit, fez, and eyepatch walked up to the lady at the register and kissed her cheek. The woman smiled lovingly and left while the guy who resembled a gopher checked a customer out. Rick waited until the buyer left to approach the register, leaning an arm on the counter.

“Welcome to the Mystery Shack, dude!”

“Thanks! So, this is gonna sound weird, but my son Aaron talks to a guy here about dinosaurs…”

“No way!” The owner interrupted excitedly. “Good to see you, dudes! I’m Mr. Mystery! Wow, you guys came a long way, huh?”

“Nah, only from California. My daughter is attending art school there.”

While the men chit-chatted and Linda joined them, Katie noticed a guy walking up to Aaron and looking at the mer-monkey. She smiled and tried to read the comic without being too nosy, but she kept her senses on her brother.

“Hm, quite fascinating, isn’t it?” The man in the blue hoodie said. “But I think my favorite is the fossilized footprint. Could be Nanuqsaurus hoglundi.”

“The Polar Bear Lizard?” Aaron clarified, touching his chin as he looked at the dino-print, his back to the man he was talking to. “Maybe, but they’re from Alaska. It’s possible plate tectonics did cause some fossils to be relocated here, but it could also be a Nanotyrannosaurus lancensis footprint.”

“The Dwarf Tyrant? Could very well be. Would you like to talk about dinosaurs after your tour?”

Aaron’s eyes widened as the voice was finally familiar to him. He turned and looked up to find an old man smiling up at him. He had fluffy gray hair with a white stripe running around his scalp, wrinkles by his eyes due to smiling, a cleft chin, glasses, and wore a blue hoodie with a maroon sweater underneath. His hands were behind his back and he smiled down at Aaron warmly, while the boy was jittery and overly-excited. He took in a sharp breath and had to fight every muscle to keep from leaping through the screen door. 

“H-H-Hi…” He peeped. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Y-Yeah, sure! I’d love to! I’m Aaron! Er, wait, you already knew that.” And he held out a hand to shake.

His phone-pal, Ford, chuckled and got on one knee to be eye-level. “Greeting, Aaron! It’s nice to formally meet you.”

Aaron shook his hand and noticed something. He had six fingers on his right hand. A quick glance told Aaron he also had six fingers on his left hand. Aaron grinned with sparkling eyes at his new friend, while the old sailor smiled warmly at the boy that reminds him of his niece and nephew when they were young.

[thelastspeecher]

Stan Falls in Love With a Frog

We started talking about a new Scenario in the Discord, and it’s been making me very happy, especially since the Scenario takes place in a Mystery Trio-style AU, and I’m a big fan of the Mystery Trio AU.  So, I whipped this up earlier.  Enjoy.

——————————————————————————————

              Stan sat on the edge of the dock, looking out over the water of Lake Gravity Falls.  In the fading light, mist curled above the lake surface.  He sighed and reeled his fishing line back in.

              Dammit.  I shoulda got here earlier if I wanted to catch anything.  Stan wasn’t opposed to night fishing in general, but he was opposed to it in Gravity Falls.  He had seen in person some of the weird things that came out when it got dark.  Something surfaced in the lake, breaking the thin layer of fog.  Speaking of…  Stan idly watched it swim.  Wonder what kinda spookum this one is.  The creature pulled itself out of the lake and onto a large rock.  Stan’s jaw dropped.  That’s a chick!

              It was rapidly getting darker, so he couldn’t make out many fine details.  But the creature looked eerily like a human woman.  With the exception of elongated, webbed feet and ears, what looked like a pair of antennae, and mottled skin.  She pushed back her short hair with hands that also seemed to be webbed.

              What the hell is that?  Stan leaned, squinting, trying to get a better look. The movement knocked his tacklebox into the lake.

              “Shit!” he swore.  The woman looked over.  Her eyes, glowing a soft blue, widened.  She dove back into the lake.  Stan sighed. “Great.”  He got to his feet and trudged back to the Stanleymobile. Before he got in, he glanced back at the lake.  The water was as smooth as glass.

              It was like the woman had never been there.

-----

              Stan returned to Lake Gravity Falls the next morning at the break of dawn.  Normally, he wouldn’t wake up so early just to go fishing, but Ford and Fiddlenerd had a full day of traipsing around in the forest planned.  If he wanted to actually have enough time to catch something, he needed to fish before, not after.

              If Fiddlenerd’s weird little sister wasn’t visiting, this wouldn’t be a problem.  Stan sat down at the edge of the dock and opened the tacklebox he’d “borrowed” from Fiddlenerd.  But Fiddlenerd wants someone with actual muscles to be there to protect her from whatever’s in the woods today.  There was a loud thunk to his left.  Stan looked over.  He gaped. The tacklebox he’d dropped in the lake yesterday sat next to him.

              “What the hell?”  Stan opened the tacklebox to inspect its contents.  It was soaked through, which made sense, given it had been at the bottom of the lake the night before.  But other than his fresh bait, nothing was missing.  “How did-”  There was a soft splash.  Stan looked up.  A creature was in front of him.

              It’s that one lady from yesterday.  She was mostly submerged, with only her eyes and the crown of her head above the water.  Her hair was a black that, like her light green skin, blended in with the lake. She looks sorta like a frog.

              “You brought me my tacklebox,” Stan said.  The frog woman nodded.  “Why?”  She hesitated, then sunk underwater.  Stan waited for a few minutes to see if she would come back up.  When she didn’t return, he sighed and began to set things up to fish.

              The missing bait makes sense now.  Of course a frog would eat all my worms.

-----

              “It’s about time!”

              “Yeah, yeah, nice to see you too,” Stan groused, pushing past Ford and into the house.  He’d spent more time than he meant to fishing.  Naturally, the moment he came back home, Ford got on his case.

              “We were supposed to leave an hour ago! Today’s plans are completely ruined!” Ford said.  Stan rolled his eyes.

              “Walking around in the woods isn’t something that takes all day, Poindexter.”

              “The specific location Fiddleford and I were going to take his sister to is quite some distance away.”

              “It’s fine, Stanford,” said the aforementioned sister of Fiddlenerd.  She was laying on the living room couch, reading a guidebook on amphibians of the Pacific Northwest.  “I was hopin’ to check out some of the cute places in town, anyways.”  She smiled at Ford.  “The forest can wait fer tomorrow.”

              “I- but-” Ford started.

              “Before you short-circuit, Sixer, I’ve got a question,” Stan interrupted.  Ford glared at him.  “So, I saw this frog-lady at the lake-”

              “Frog-lady?” Ford scoffed.  Out of the corner of his eye, Stan saw Fiddlenerd’s sister still. “Are you mocking me?”

              “What?  No!  I thought you liked weird shit.  I mean, you came up here to study it and dragged me along to be your muscle.”

              “I like magical creatures, Stanley,” Ford said, crossing his arms.  “Not regular humans who have features you might think resemble an amphibian.”

              “She wasn’t a regular human!”

              “There are no humanoid amphibious creatures around here,” Ford said firmly.  “There is, however, a woman in town who was born with webbing between her fingers and couldn’t afford the surgery to get it removed.  I think it’s rather cruel of you to make fun of her.”

              “No, I wasn’t-”  Stan sighed.  “Whatever.”

              “Go upstairs and change,” Ford instructed.  “You smell of fish.”

              “Like you’re one to talk, Mr. Doesn’t Shower For a Week,” Stan muttered.  Fiddlenerd’s sister snickered softly.  He began to walk upstairs.  “At least someone around here’s got a sense of humor.”

-----

              Though he had returned to the lake at dusk that day, Stan hadn’t seen the frog-lady.  He came back the next morning at dawn, hoping to spot her again.  As he sat at the end of the dock, he found himself dozing off, lulled into sleep by the early hour and peaceful surroundings.  He was jolted back to wakefulness by a splash nearby.

              “You came back,” a voice said.  Stan looked up.  It was the frog-lady.  Her head was now fully emerged from the water.  She looked at him with intelligent blue eyes.  Though her face was one shade of pale green, the rest of her head was mottled with darker greens.  Her nose was thin and flat, evidently nonhuman.

              “Well, yeah,” Stan said with a shrug.  He could feel his heart pounding in his chest.  “I’ve gotta thank you for giving me back my stuff.”

              “It’s yours.  Why would I keep it?” the frog-lady asked.  Her voice was lilting and musical, sounding almost like raindrops hitting leaves.  And yet, there was something about it that seemed familiar.  Like he’d heard her talk before.

              “I dunno.  ‘Cause you could?”

              “Heh.”  The frog-lady smiled.  “I don’t really have a need for human things.”

              “What are you?” Stan blurted out.  The frog-lady froze.  “Wait, shit, was that racist of me or something?”  The frog-lady nodded silently.  “I take it back.”  He cleared his throat.  “My name’s Stan.  What’s yours?”

              I don’t wanna scare her off.  She might be a frog, but she’s pretty cute.

              “…Rana,” the frog-lady said after a moment.

              “That’s pretty.”

              “Thanks.”  Rana chewed on her lip for a moment.  “Why do you want to talk to me?”

              “What do you mean?”

              “I know what your brother does.”  Rana’s eyes bored into Stan.  “I know he likes to study critters like me, with or without their consent.  Are you collecting data for him?”

              “Please.”  Stan waved a hand airily.  “Even if he and Fiddlenerd were both in full-body casts, he wouldn’t want me to collect data for him.”  Rana managed a small smile.  “He’d probably hire some weirdo from town to do it instead.”  Rana snickered softly.  Like her voice, it sounded familiar.  A car engine roared to life, the sound echoing across the lake.  Stan looked over.  Someone had pulled into the parking lot.  He looked back at Rana.

              She was gone, only a few ripples remaining on the surface where she’d been.

-----

              Stan paced in the living room.  It had been a week since he learned Rana’s name, and many more meetings with her at dawn.  And to his shock, he was beginning to fall for her.

              Sure, she’s not human.  Sure, she hasn’t come out of the water all the way yet.  But she’s nice and funny and teases me when I say something racist against frogs.  Stan smiled fondly, remembering how he had brought her worms yesterday, only for her to throw them at him.  I like a lady who doesn’t take any shit.  He frowned. She doesn’t like worms…what does she like?  I’ve gotta impress her if I’m gonna make a move on her.  She gets spooked so easily.

              “Stanley,” Fiddlenerd said wearily.  Stan stopped.  He looked over at the card table in the corner, where Fiddlenerd was working on some sort of machine.  “Yer goin’ to wear a hole in the wood if ya don’t stop pacin’!”

              “Nah, let him keep goin’,” Fiddlenerd’s sister said. Once again, she was on the couch reading a book about amphibians.  “Maybe he’ll pick up the pace and start a fire.”  She smirked at Stan, who merely rolled his eyes in response.

              “What are you still doing here?” he asked. Fiddlenerd’s sister shrugged.

              “I like it here.  I’ll stay until Fidds kicks me out.”

              “So, you’re never gonna leave,” Stan said flatly. Fiddlenerd’s sister snorted in amusement.  Stan sighed. He looked back at Fiddlenerd.  “Do you know anything about frogs?”  Bringing up frogs to Ford only resulted in him scolding Stan, no matter how Stan phrased his questions.  Fiddlenerd shook his head.

              “No.  But Angie does.”

              “Who’s Angie?”

              “Wh-”  Fiddlenerd set down his wrench, staring at Stan.  “My sister!” Stan looked at Fiddlenerd’s sister, apparently named Angie.  She waved at him cheerfully.  “She’s been here fer over a week and ya haven’t even learned her name yet?”

              “It didn’t come up,” Stan said with a shrug. Ignoring Fiddlenerd’s sputtering, he sat down next to Angie.  “So. Your name is Angie.”

              “Yes.  It is.”

              “It’s a lot more normal than Fiddlenerd’s name,” Stan remarked.  Fiddlenerd let out a squawk of protest.  Angie sighed.

              “Spit it out.  What do ya want?”

              “Do you know about frogs?”

              “I certainly hope I do, since my doctorate is in herpetology,” Angie said tartly.  Stan frowned at her.  “The study of reptiles and amphibians.”

              “Ah.  Okay.” Stan scooted a bit closer.  His nose picked up on a faint pondwater smell coming from Angie.  She eyed him warily.  “What do frogs like?”

              “What do-”  Angie stared at him.  “What?”

              “You heard me.  What do frogs like?”

              “I mean, it depends on the frog.”  Angie rubbed the back of her neck.  “What do ya need to know this for?”

              “There’s this frog-lady that I met-”

              “Oh, pish posh,” Angie scoffed.  “I’ve heard ‘bout yer frog-lady from Stanford.  He says that she don’t exist.”

              “And you’re just gonna believe him?”

              “I ain’t an expert in the wildlife ‘round here. Stanford is.  I don’t really have a choice but to take him at his word.”

              “Where’s that famous herpetology skepticism?” Stan asked.  Angie rolled her eyes and got up, setting her book on the nearby end table.

              “I’m goin’ fer a walk,” she said.  “If I see any frog-ladies, I’ll let ya know.”

              Great.  She was my best shot at advice for Rana.  I mean, she knows frogs and she’s a woman!  Stan’s eyes landed on Angie’s book.  Hmm…  He picked it up.  There was a bookmark.  He thumbed to the bookmarked page.  It was the beginning of a chapter on a specific genus called Rana.  Huh.

              “That’s weird,” Stan muttered out loud.

              “What?” Fiddlenerd asked.

              “None of your business,” Stan shot at him. Fiddlenerd rolled his eyes and went back to working on his machine.

              My frog-lady has the same name as a kind of frog. Makes sense.  Stan looked over at Angie, who was putting her shoes on by the front door.  But why was Angie looking up that kind of frog?

-----

              Rana giggled at Stan’s latest terrible joke. Stan beamed.

              “Glad you’ve got a sense of humor,” he said. Rana smiled.  Car tires crunched on gravel.  Stan didn’t have to look to know that it was the arrival of the early fishermen.  After two weeks talking to Rana, he’d developed a routine.  He would sit at the edge of the dock and wait for her to emerge, then the two would chat until the first fishermen showed up.  Stan sighed.  “Same time tomorrow?” he asked Rana.  Rana nodded. She dipped underwater.

              Stan got up and made his way down the dock, ignoring the fishermen who clearly thought he was insane to be at the lake so early for no apparent reason.  He walked over to where he normally parked the Stanleymobile, only to remember he’d parked by the edge of the forest that day.

              “Great decision-making, past Stan,” he mumbled idly. “Parking where the gnomes could bite through your brake lines again.”  He went to the Stanleymobile.  Before he opened the door, however, he heard a large splash and leaves rustling nearby. A voice swore softly.

              That sounded like Rana.  Stan tucked his car keys back into his pocket and went into the woods, following the sound of Rana’s voice.  He arrived at a small clearing at the edge of the lake.  Rana had pulled herself onto shore.  Stan stared at her.  It was the first time he was seeing below her neck up close; he’d only seen her full body once before, back when he knocked his tacklebox into the lake.  Her front was the same pale green as her face, with darker greens mottling around her sides and back.  The texture of her skin looked soft and slimy.  Despite her hourglass figure, she was fairly flat-chested.

              I mean.  She is a frog.  Why would she have boobs?  Rana pulled herself up into a seated position, leaning against a tree trunk.  Stan stared at her long, flipper-like feet.  No wonder she swims so fast.  Suddenly, her feet began to shrink.  Stan’s eyes widened, watching Rana’s flippers change to pale, human feet.  His eyes widened further as he realized that her feet weren’t the only thing changing. Before his eyes, Rana was transforming from a frog-lady into a naked human woman.  One that Stan recognized.

              Rana got up and grabbed a pile of clothing from behind the tree, mumbling to herself.  A twig snapped under Stan’s foot.  Rana’s head shot up.  She stared at Stan in horror.

              “Stan?!” she squeaked.  Stan swallowed.

              Damn, her nose gets flat when she’s a frog.

              “Hey, Angie.”

[shadowwolfluna]

The firefighter and the cop

Chapter 2: Un secret

(This part will follow a bit on Chicago PD Season 1 Episode 10: At Least It’s Justice)

Chapter 1

It has been a few months that I slowly adapt to my new life in Chicago, and I kinda enjoy my life there. Everyone in firehouse 51 has called me -thanks to Hermann- Swiss, and again I like it. We were called as there was a car collision, the boys and I arrive at the scene and assess the situation. I see Atwater reassuring an elderly woman, I am next to Severide and we approach the vehicle where there was another driver in there.

“Old lady plows her boat through an intersection, and she’s the only one without a scratch.” My colleague commented, I shook my head and went into work mode. I look at the guy.

“Hey, sit tight we’re going to get you out of there.” Kelly explains, as I carefully observe the victim. I notice that he seemed a bit panic maybe, shaking my head I stood next to Kelly as he uses the spreader to open the door, one of the firefighters force open the door and I help to pull it out. I notice the guy moving out, and my colleague tries to tell him to sit down, but he punches him. I try to use my right leg to make him fall, but it fails and he ran away. Kelly called out to stop him, and I wanted to chase him but I know he’ll be too far away. I turn back around and I ask my coworker if he is okay, I soon hear Atwater and Burgess asking us to open the trunk, I grab a crowbar and use all my force to open it.

I gasp and took a step back. “What the…” I mumble in surprise, Burgess approach me and lead me away from whatever I saw. “You okay? I saw that you tried to stop him.” I nod my head at Kim, still wrapping my head about seeing a torso in the trunk of a car.

I only thought this could only happen in movies, Kim left as Kelly approach me and ask the same thing. “I’m fine, just had a feeling this guy might be up to something.” I reply not looking in front of Kelly, as he nods his head. “Don’t worry, Voight and his team will stop him.” I nod my head, staring at the car crash that now has a police sign and turns into a crime scene investigation.

We arrive back at Firehouse 51, Leslie and Gabby approach me. “Hey Swiss, you okay?” I slowly felt a bit frustrated, I can understand they worrying but I just want to forget it. “I’m fine, but please tell the guys not to ask me again if I am fine. I certainly do not want to remember it.”

Leslie nods her head and changes the subject quickly, normally I would explode in anger but I know they were worried and I prefer to stay calm and try to explain the situation. I hear someone calling out my name, turning around I see Kelly along with Erin and I see Voight there as well. “Swiss, they found someone, intelligence wants you and me to identify him.” I nod my head, before I can ask if I can come alone Voight speak up. “You can come with me, Erin will bring Kelly to PD.” I let out a small ‘okay’. I went to the lockers and get myself to change into my normal clothes, a black long-sleeve shirt with a red fake leather jacket and dark blue jeans. I wear a small pendant and left Firehouse 51.

“They told me about what happened, you okay?” I mentally rolled my eyes at Voight question, we were in the car going to the Police department. “For the love of, I am fine. Hank, it’s just...I don’t know...scary...I only thought that this could only happen in movies.” I glance out the window, feeling a bit awkward about my mini outburst. “Has this never happened in Geneva?” I let a small chuckle. “No, the only time I remember where. Police officers would arrest drunk drivers, I think murderers as well, but the swiss media has always covered it some. Except, I wasn’t technically there at the scene. So, I don’t know what to say.” I explain, and I kinda felt a bit frustrated not to know how I should felt, I felt a bit afraid but the feeling I feel the most is frustration. I feel it because I think it’s due I could have stop this guy, he murdered and chop off a person. Instead, I let him get away.

“Don’t worry, we’ll stop this guy. I understand you feel frustrated. But I ask you not to go on your own and be a cop, your a firefighter remember that I am glad that you are safe.” Hank said not even with anger but worry and I felt it kinda pull my heart, for the few months Hank and I met each other occasionally, but we haven’t officiated if we are dating or not. There were a few moments, I did ask myself if we are dating.

“I won’t, besides I don’t want to worry you, Hank.” He nods his head with a gentle smile and kept driving. “So, they kept calling you Swiss, why’s that?” I chuckle, as Hank is curious about the nickname. “Blame Hermann, he thought that since I am from Switzerland, it would be fun to nickname me Swiss. I like it.” I explain to Hank the story, with a small grin thankful that we change the subject.

“By the way, um Hank do you wish we see each other tonight or tomorrow evening? I don’t have a shift tomorrow.” I ask him curiously, while a bit nervous. Of course, we see each other a few times, but it would be with his teammates, and I kinda hope that he would notice that I wanted to say ‘date’.

I bit my lip nervously and look away, I didn’t notice Hank looking at me with a small smile. “Of course, I know a good place we can go to quietly.”

I exhale and made a wide grin, and without thinking, I said out loud. “Then it’s a date…”

I almost turn pale when I realize what I said, and before I can say anything Hank lets out a chuckle and smile at me. “Yeah, it’s a date.” I lost words, and I look out the window feeling myself blushing bright red.

We arrive at the Police Department, I walk side with Hank and I see a woman with grey hair talking on the phone. She nods at Hank and glances at me. I show her a small smile, she reminds me of a good friend of mine. She would not care what others think and would speak her mind, even some of my old firehouse in Geneva would like or hate her. I miss her though.

I follow Hank knowing he wants me and Kelly to identify the killer.

We were in the glass room, where Gabby’s brother Dawson I think is interrogating the ‘killer’. “It’s not him, the guy is more muscular and a bit taller.” Kelly nods his head, agreeing with me. Erin walks in and starts talking, about the guy who is not the killer, I notice Kelly checking out Erin. I sent him a smirk, where he hid his chuckles not wanting two police officers to know what is funny.

“Mind for you two to take a look at a couple of mugshots?” We both nod our heads, I then decide to ask Erin for the bathroom and mouth to Kelly ‘ask her’.

After being in the bathroom for ten minutes, I walk out and see both Kelly and Erin talking, when they notice me, Erin brings us to a room where they showed us pictures of prisoners.

I stop and recognize the suspected killer from one of the photographs. When Erin asks us, I point to the picture. “That guy.”

“That’s the guy we pulled out of the car.” Kelly added agreeing with me, a girl explains about the killer. Both Kelly and I slowly leave as the other officers are leaving to find him, but I noticed something in Kelly’s hand. I chuckle and shook my head. “What?” He notices my grin. “Your gonna try to ask Erin out are you?” Kelly lets out a small chuckle. “Nope, just going to try and bring back her stuff.” I smirk, as we walk down the stairs and see the woman talking with the other officers, not in the mood. “Who’s that?” Kelly looks at who I am referring to, and smile. “That’s Sergeant Trudy Platt, she’s...nice.”

“Then I should meet her another time, she reminds me of my friend.” We were both out of the district as Kelly looks at me as if I was crazy. “Woah, wait a sec, you have a friend in Switzerland that acts like THE Trudy Platt?” I let out a small laugh, while Kelly looks at me as if I grew two heads. “Yep, you know everyone in my old firehouse either tolerates or not liking her, but she considers me as a very close friend.” I explain, Kelly laugh. We both went our separate ways, I walk back to my apartment, which I thankfully found. It is not far from Firehouse 51, and I got a good price from the landlord.

The guys helped me with the move, and I manage to get my late brother’s car to come here a black 1969 Ford Mustang Fastback. My brother loves cars and motorcycles, he sadly passed away, and in his will, he gifts me his car. Even mentioning not to change anything in the car. The only thing he changed was the radio, as he comments about having music. I miss him.

My apartment has two bedrooms, a converge living/kitchen/dining area, along with a bathroom. I live on the fourth floor, I arrive there and set my jacket on the coat rack. Heaving out a small sight, and check the time.

I sent Hank an SMS informing the date and time.

To: Hank

From: (Y/N)

I’m back home safe and sound, I’ll see you tomorrow around eight. I hope everything is okay, catch that guy.

Can’t wait for our date.

😉

(Y/N)

I set the phone down, and I went to the bathroom wanting to leave out all of today’s stress.

(Timeskip to tomorrow)

I decide to wear a black dress that is up to my knees and let my hair down. I wear my pendant, which is the shape of a small teardrop decorated with blue and red small crystals. I put on my red lipstick, I told the others that tonight I won’t join them at Molly’s. I hear my phone vibrate, and check a new message from Hank.

To: (Y/N)

From: Hank

I’ll pick you up at your place, will be there in ten minutes.

Hank

I smile, and check myself out in the mirror, nodding my head, I grab my red fake leather jacket and my small purse. And wore small black heel shoes. I grab my phone and keys, locking my door.

When I got out of the door, I see Hank leaning in his SUV, and I almost caught my breath, he was wearing a white sleeve button-up shirt, with black pants with a black leather jacket. I walk towards Hank, as he seems frozen for a minute. “You look…” I smile and said confidently. “Sexy, shall we?” He nods his head, as he opens the passenger side, I slide in and thanking Hank.

We arrive on the other side of town, finding an interesting restaurant that looks a bit expensive. Feeling a bit self-conscious, I look at Hank. “Hank, how did you?” He smiles, and gets out of the car, and helps me out when he reaches the passenger side. “I know the owner, and he kinda owes me. Saved him and his family, and told me that I am welcome to come by.”

We approach the receptionist, she eyed me, and Hank and before she can comment I cut her off. “I’m sorry, but it’s not your place to say if I am too young to date someone like him.” Surprise, she then switches to a smile and apologizes. “I’m sorry, name?” She asks politely, Hank tells his name, and she brought us to a room that isn’t too crowded. “Enjoy your meal, and your date.” She said to us politely, I gave her a small smile, and she left. I glance at Hank, where he smiles at me. Looking into his eyes, it seems we were talking with each other.

“How do you like Chicago so far?” Hank asks, I smile at him. “I love it here, plus when I am off, I can drive off in my car and visit Papy and Mamie when I am off of shift.” I tell him, Hank chuckles. “Papy, Mamie, is it french or nicknames for your grandparents?” I nod my head.

“Yeah, while growing up, my mom’s family is partially swiss german, so my parents taught us that on my father’s side we say Papy and Mamie but for my mother’s side it would be Oma and Opa.”

A waiter came and smiles at Hank. “Evening Hank, I guess this is your date? It’s a pleasure to meet you, Hank here saved my family. Hank whatever you order, it’s on the house. No arguments, I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for you.” I smile and find Hank attractive as he grins at the waiter/owner of the restaurant. Feeling my heart beat faster, he served us wine.

“Cheers, for our date...and hope we can continue more…” I said with a flirty smile, he smiles back. “Cheers. (Y/N), there is one thing you should promise.” I sip my wine and nod my head knowing where he is getting at.

“No one should know about this, Platt and Al have already figured it out. They won’t say anything, but I don’t want anyone to know we are dating. Do you promise?” I put my hand on top of his, and smile at him. “I promise Hank.” He smiles at me, and decide to give a small kiss on the back of my hand, sending me goosebumps and a shiver.

We start to order and enjoy our evening together, as I kept looking at Hank with a small smile…

(This isn’t the end of this chapter, I would continue, but like I mention this series would follow not all the episode, only a few. If you are interested in an episode I could write let me know.)

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

Day 11: Walk the Dog - William ‘Ironhead’ Miller

Day 11: Walk the Dog- William ‘Ironhead’ Miller 

This story was requested by @oldstuffnewstuff​. Thank you so much for the request! I love writing for requests! Thank you for all the rebloggs, comments, and likes. :)

Also gonna tag @myathleteeggspizza​ for our love of William Miller. 

November Writing Challenge Masterlist 

Day 10: Used Tea Bags - Javier Pena 

William ‘Ironhead’ Miller liked numbers. His whole life since leaving the military was run down to the exact second the way he wanted it too. He would wake up at 0600 daily, stretch for eight minutes, down his first cup of coffee, and go for an eight mile run through the park. Then he would return home, take a five minute shower, get dressed, drink a smoothie, fill his tumblr with coffee, and leave for the base at 0730 sharp. 

Every single day was the same. But, that’s what someone with as many demons as he had needed. The structure and security of the same routine. Not one minute unaccounted for. Until the day he met her.

It was a chilly November morning when he first noticed her. She had on a black leggings, a maroon crewneck sweatshirt, black ankle boots, and hair in a messy bun atop her head. She was sitting at one of the unoccupied benches near the Veterans statue, reading aloud a book to a golden retriever lying quietly with her head in her owner's lap. 

He faltered for a moment, and one minute became two, became three and when he looked down at his watch he cursed to himself. He was behind schedule. When he looked back up they were gone. He turned each direction frantically looking for the girl and the dog but they were nowhere to be seen. He wondered for a moment if he had only imagined it before the beeping of his watch drew his attention and he picked up the pace to make up for the lost time. Lost time, what a novel concept for a person who counted everything in his life. 

The next morning when he entered the park he couldn’t help but look for them as he ran around the path. Keeping his eyes open for the golden retriever and her alluring owner. Will couldn’t help the pang of disappointment at missing them again. The routine remained the same day in and out for another week before Will began to give up hope about seeing them again. On Saturday after his run he came home and left at exactly 0730 again but this time he was meeting his old army buddies for breakfast at a diner across town. 

The diner looked old fashioned amongst the new and shiny chrome buildings that had begun to pop up around town but it wasn’t the outside that mattered. Will walked in and the bells tinkled on the door to notify the wait staff, and he nodded at the familiar faces before finding his friends. He slid into the worn, cracked leather of the booth next to his brother, shaking the other two men's hands across the table. 

The waitress came over and brought him a steaming mug of coffee, two packets of sugar, and one creamer before going back over to her other customers. Frankie pointed to the cup before back at Will, “you come here way too often if they know exactly how you take your coffee.” 

“Every Saturday,” Will tells him smiling as he prepares his coffee, taking a sip of the liquid gold, “Gladys knows just the way I like my coffee, and my breakfast. Why ruin a good thing by going somewhere else?” 

Frankie laughs at him, “Some people actually like to go out and try new things. Are you still doing the same routine every day and doing that counting thing?” 

Will only nods before he’s interrupted by Gladys who takes their orders, not even bothering to ask Will before she goes off to put their order into the kitchen. “Thank you Glady!” Will shouts at her and she raises a hand in acknowledgment. 

“So how the hell have you guys been?” Santiago asks over the rim of his mug. 

Benny fills them in on his training, and his new girlfriend he met at a fight a few months ago. Frankie tells them all about the house he just bought and is slowly renovating and shows them some new pictures of his daughter Juliette, who just turned three the past month. Frankie made the single father life look flawless. Santiago was in town for the next two months on break from down in Columbia where he’d been helping the local military take down a drug lord. All of them had something new to share, something exciting, except Will. 

“So what about you Will?” Santi gestures to him as they all dig into their breakfast. 

Will cuts himself another piece of pancake off for himself before running it through the syrup, “The same shit as usual, run, work, eat, sleep. On Saturdays I come here for breakfast and on Tuesday and Thursday I help Benny with training and Friday night is usually fight night. Besides that nothing is new.” 

“Youshouldgetadog” the words jumble together out of Benny’s mouth as he tries to talk through the French toast pouring from his mouth. 

“Damn it brother chew your food and then talk,” Will laughs. 

Benny swallows before trying again, “I said, you should get a dog.” 

“A dog? Why the hell would I get a dog?” he asks. 

“Just hear me out brother, you love routines right? You run every morning and it seems to me that your a little lonely, a dog could go running with you, and keep you company.” 

Will contemplates the idea for a moment and his thoughts can't help but go back to the beautiful woman from the park with the golden retriever. “Yeah, maybe… do we even have any pet shops around here?” 

“Fuck pet shops,” Frankie tells him, “you need to go to the humane society and get a rescue dog, they are the best. Juli and I will even go with you, she would love to see all the dogs. How about 1300 today?” 

Will thinks for a moment before agreeing, “ok...but just to look. I don’t know if I am ready for a dog yet.” 

“Ok I’ll meet you there with Juli and we can go look at the dogs, but I wouldn’t be surprised if you go and fall in love with one and take it home today.” 

Will scoffs, “Sure.” 

When Will pulls his black 2014 Ford truck into the parking lot he feels slightly overwhelmed by all the animals running about. There is a large fenced in yard with exactly fifteen dogs of various shapes and sizes. When Frankie pulled into the spot next to him, he began to feel more at ease with a familiar face and when Juli came running full speed at him he couldn’t help the smile that broke across his face. 

“Uncle WIll!!” Juli screamed tackling him into a hug. 

He swung her up into his arms and she squealed, “hello sunshine! How’s my favorite girl doing? Are you keeping your daddy busy?” 

“Of course! Daddy told me we're gonna help you find a puppy today? Can we get one too daddy?” She leans back in Wills arms and pouts at her father who crosses his arms. 

“I get the impression you and her had this discussion before you came today?” Will asks laughing at the exasperated expression on Frankie's face. 

“More than once,” Frankie nods to him before taking the toddler back, “Sweetie we talked about this, we are not getting a dog today, just Uncle Will.” 

Her face morphs into a pout and both men can feel the beginning of a tantrum coming so they deflect, “Let’s go sunshine! Don’t you want to see all the dogs?” Will leads the way into the shelter and when the bell dings as he crosses the threshold he stops. Frankie runs into his back before pushing the rest of the way inside. 

Sitting at a worn desk is the woman from the park. She’s wearing overalls with a white shirt covered in pink and yellow flowers. Her hair is pulled into a bun on top of her head but three long strands have slipped out and are dangling in front of her face. She’s wearing dark rimmed glasses, and has her nose buried in a book. On the ground under the desk, sticks out a wet black nose of a golden retriever snoring. 

Will coughs lightly to draw her attention and she snaps her head up and seems slightly startled. “Oh hello! I-” she puts her bookmark in her book and the dog rises to its feet, noticing the new arrivals, “Welcome to the Dog House, uhm how can - how can I help you today? She stumbles over her words, and a blush rises up her neck. 

“Hhh-uhm hi,” Will’s arm rises up and he scratches the back of his head, “Dog...I’m looking for a dog.” He can’t keep his eyes off her. The girl he had spent the last couple weeks thinking about, was right in front of him. 

She giggles, “Well then you’ve come to the right place, I’m Andy, you can follow me.” 

Will follows her like a lost puppy...no pun intended. Frankie just watches the two of them, smiling to himself. It’s obvious that Will likes this girl the way he’s acting if only he could see her looking at him the same way. Frankie keeps his thoughts to himself and follows behind the two. 

“What kind of dog are you looking for? Something big? Small? Athletic? Lazy? We have all kinds here.” she asks, gesturing around to the cages as she leads them to a small enclosed area outside. 

“I like to run, in Aveley Park over on 140th street, and I would like a dog to run with. I’m Will by the way,” he offers her his hand. When they touch they both feel a surge of electricity and they don’t let go, continuing to shake hands until Frankie not so subtly clears his throat.

She blushes deep red, and quickly drops his hand smiling shyly at him, “That’s where I like to go with Benny! We go almost every morning for a walk and then I usually read. My sisters have been in town the last couple weeks so we’ve been going in the evenings lately but they’re gone now so maybe I will see you some morning.” 

“Oh uhmm, whose Benny?” Will asks, he didn’t notice a boyfriend last time he saw her. 

“Oh my dog!” she gestures to the dog that has been slowly following between them. 

From behind, Frankie lets out a snort. Will glares at him before meeting your confused expression. “Benny is my brother's name…I guess he and the dog have some things in common. My brother is kind of like a lovable golden retriever.” 

She laughs out loud, and it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard and he’s desperate to hear her laugh again. “Well maybe your Benny and my Benny should meet someday.” 

“I would like that,” Will tells her, smiling. 

The two just stand there smiling at each other like two lovesick fools when Frankie puts down Juli who's been squirming in his arms. She toddles over to the dog and begins gently petting his head, his eyes close and his tail wags and everyone laughs watching the adorable toddler and the dog. 

“Ok,” she slaps her hands together, “athletic dogs, good for running…” 

“Maybe one a little older?” Will hesitantly asks, “I don’t run as fast as I used to.” 

“You know I think I have the perfect dog for you,” she walks over to the kennel and comes back with a gorgeous chocolate lab. Will drops to his knee and gestures for the dog to come and sniff him and he does so without a second thought. 

“What’s his name?” Will asks looking up at her. 

“Tom.” 

Will freezes and in his peripheral he sees Frankie frozen too, both of their eyes are on the dog. “What’s his name?” Will whispers. 

“His name is Tom, they found him wandering around six months ago, they think someone left him. He’s house trained, and very well behaved. We-what’s wrong? You both look like you’ve seen a ghost…” She looks between Will and Frankie. 

Frankie sniffs, “our old army buddy, he passed away a few years ago...his name was Tom.” 

“Oh...oh I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories.” 

“I’ll take him,” Will tells her quickly, “how do I adopt him?” 

“Oh that’s wonderful! Come inside with me and we will get the paperwork all filled out, you can pay the $25 fee and he’s yours,” she places a leash around Tom and hands him to Will. When their hands brush he burns from her touch and she pulls her hand back. It’s not one sided. Juli and Frankie follow behind. Juli is more excited then everyone when Uncle Will tells her the dog is coming home with him. Just thirty minutes later and Will is the proud owner of a new dog. Frankie takes Juli outside to strap her into the car seat and head home. 

“I hope I’m not too forward, but maybe one morning we could go running together...I go for a walk there every morning like I said but for the right partner I could be persuaded to start running in the mornings.” 

“Actually...I would like to walk the dog with you tomorrow morning if you're free... it’s hard to get to know someone when running...then maybe I could take you out for breakfast?” Will feels as nervous as the first time he gave a speech. 

“Yes,” she doesn’t hesitate, “yes, I would like that very much.” She slips a piece of paper from her back pocket with her phone number on it, “I was kind of hoping you would ask. I wrote it as soon as you decided on the dog.” 

He laughs before taking the paper from her fingers, sliding the number into his pocket. He gently grasps her hand and presses a light kiss to her knuckles. “I can’t wait till tomorrow morning,” he tells her before walking backwards out the door. 

Frankie has already left with Juli and he loads Tom into the front seat of the truck, before getting into the driver's seat and buckling his seat belt. He pulls out onto the road and sits at the stop sign, Tom crawls across the seat and places his head in Will’s lap. He puts his head gently, before pulling out to go home, thinking about tomorrow with one beautiful girl, and two dogs. 

Day 12: It evaded me- 

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Rose Red’s All Hallows Eve: Shall We Go Inside?

Summary- 5.3k Charles Blackwood x You. You were sent a ticket to the exclusive fund raiser at Rose Red on Halloween Night. You are to visit the character Charles Blackwood, played by your forever crush Sebastian Stan. He supposed to take you on a tour of the famous haunted manor, claiming it to be the home of his Aunt Ellen Rimbauer and Uncle Wilford Rimbauer. What a once in a life time opportunity! You might just never want to leave. 

Warnings- its a ghost story, creepy descriptions, mentions of suicide, death. 

A/N- written as my last submission to @jtargaryen18​ Haunted House 2020. This will be the final piece I write for Rose Red’s All Hallows Eve, and I hope you all enjoy a glimpse and some back story of Rose Red that wasn’t given in the Curtis chapters. The story is from Stephen King’s Rose Red which was a TV mini series. Excellent Halloween movie if you can find it. Its hard to locate now. Dividers made by @firefly-graphics​ Happy Reading and Haunting. 😈🎃🌹

Masterlist

You couldn’t get over your good fortune when you checked your mailbox that morning. Inside was an envelope, with wispy handwriting with no return address. When you opened it, there was a ticket, an exclusive ticket to the Rose Red All Hallows Eve charity function. 

Your jaw dropped, cause even though you had been trying everything to secure a ticket for months, no one would sell you one. And you tried finding scalped tickets, willing to take a chance for one, only to be turned down. It was an invite-only, only the elite were getting to tour the mansion and meet some of their favorite movie actors in their darker roles. 

Your hands trembled as you brought the ticket closer, reading the fine print to see which person you were getting to meet. Not that you were picky, you would take the chance to meet anyone. Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan, Frank Grillo, Scarlett Johnson, or Chris Hemsworth. Just being able to get into the mansion was worth all the months of begging and trying just about anything for tickets. 

Your eyes roved back and forth, trying to pick up a name when you saw the fine print announcing that you would be escorted around Rose Red by Charles Blackwood from We Have Always Lived In The Castle. You gave a little squee of excitement, having really wanted to meet Sebastian Stan. What a better character on Halloween night then the devious cousin Charles. Your plans for tonight went from working on a project for your boss to getting red wine drunk and watching the movie on Netflix to get reacquainted with Charles Blackwood. Research, of course, you didn’t want to be meeting the famous “Charles” without having done your research after all. Happy in a way you haven’t been in a while, you went to pour your wine and binge, wishing you had someone to call to tell your news to. But you were a bit of a loner and didn’t tend to connect with people. 

But whatever, this well this was going to be the best Halloween yet for you. No getting sloppy drunk in a bar to bring home some wanna be cowboy or that one time you brought home a clown. A disgusted shudder went through you at the memory. That wasn’t a Halloween you were particularly proud of. Not this year though, this time you were going to one of the most haunted places in New York and seeing Sebastian Stan. Wonder what it would take to bring him home? Making yourself grin like an idiot, as your major fan girl crush made your heart race. You poured almost the entire bottle of red wine in the goblet. 

“How did the saying go? Treat Yo Self.” Lifting the glass you took a rather large swallow.

Charles stood at the entrance, waiting for the next patron he was to bring through the mansion. They should be arriving soon, the time on the ticket said 11 pm sharp. Waiting at the gate, his back leaned against the cold stone of the wall and his gaze fell upwards to see a bit of green creeping over the wall, sprouting thorns sharper than any dagger. Charles hummed softly with a bit of a smirk to see the creeping vine, a small bud twisted as it grew in size. The bigger it got, the more it tinted from green to blood red, and it spiraled open to a single rose. Reaching up, he pinched the stem, clipping it off and bringing it down to admire it. The perfect petals are just as soft as a woman's lips when he brushed his fingertip along one, and when a thorn bit into his palm, he hissed at the sting, that too just like a woman. Don’t respect her, and she will cut you down. Blood welled up and spilled towards the ground before he brought his palm to his mouth and sucked it clean, inspecting to make sure there wasn’t any of the thorn left in his palm. Snipping off the thorns, he let them scatter into the gravel under his feet. 

Charles was fixing the rose into his shirt pocket, when you started to come out from between parked cars, your hands smoothing against your thighs with a bit of nerve and you just looked so innocently sweet. The corner of his mouth quirked up while he inspected you. She’s a perfect choice, he thought maliciously as his features shifted to warm and welcoming. “Welcome Dear to Rose Red, my family's Manor. My name is Charles Blackwood.” Plucking out that flower from his shirt pocket, he gave a slight bow and held it out for you. Your giggle went right through him, making his toes curl in his shiny black Louboutin’s all the way to the base of his neck where his expensive Tom Ford collar rubbed. You looked up at him with a touch of innocence that should make him feel bad, but it didn’t. 

You dug out your ticket and showed them to Charles Blackwood, which he inspected closely and pulled out his wallet to pocket it. You bubbled with excitement and lifted the rose he had just given you to your nose, letting the tip brush against the edges of the petals. “Thank you. I shall press it to dry it when I get home Sebastian. But I have no place to put it.” You started to figure out a way to hold onto it and not get it ruined when he took it back and wedged it into the stone wall behind him. 

“It will be safe here Dear, and Charles, please. I don’t know this Sebastian you call me.” He gave a wink and you nod in understanding. It was supposed to be just the characters showing you around. So it made sense that you were supposed to call him Charles, not Sebastian. You bit your lip and nodded. 

“Of course, Sorry Charles.” you loved how well he fell into character, offering his arm to you that you curled your hand around his forearm, falling into step together once you two went through the iron-wrought gate. 

“No harm is done, Dear. I’m very excited to show you around my Uncle and Aunts family home for the evening. It’s not often I have such a lovely woman on my arm.” He leads you up the stairs and opens the massive door to the mansion. “After You. There are a few groups inside, but we won’t be running into them.”

Your head tips back to look all around, taken in by the deep wooden double staircase sweeping up to the upper floors, gleaming marble floors and a crystal chandelier that as you and Charles walked underneath it, you couldn't help but tip your head back, mesmerized by the glinting of the crystalline shards. “One of Ellen's nicer finds. She had the chandelier shipped from France, each crystal carefully wrapped.” 

“This whole place, it looks completely restored. I thought it was condemned, banned from the public?” You question as he leads you into what looks like a sitting room, another room that spoke of decadence, with plush chairs around a large fireplace that seemed to take up half the wall, large vibrant persian rugs sat atop rich wooden floors, and in the glow of the lamps light up around the room showed carvings in the wall, cherubs dancing amongst vines and roses. You shuddered a bit looking at them high above you in the molding. The innocence of them felt wrong in this place, malicious. 

Charles directed you towards a small staircase that went halfway up the room, climbing while answering your question. “Ahh yes. Well it is technically. But I have been told that Rose Red might be reopening soon to the public. For tours, the occasional overnight ghost investigations.” 

Once you two reached the landing, you saw the ornate dollhouse. Charles was able to turn it around on a turnstyle stand, and flicked a switch, lighting up the inside. Leaning down, you peeked inside in awe. It was a perfect replica of the house, the lower levels showed a large massive kitchen, sitting rooms, library, offices. Then up the stairs a ballroom of sorts, another library, bedrooms, and other odd rooms that seemed to serve no purpose. 

“This is beautiful.” You muttered and straightened, clasping your hands behind your back to keep from picking up the matching furniture to look closer. 

“My Great Aunt Ellen had this made for her daughter April, who was confined to Rose Red due to her bad health. She was a lonely child, her father sending her older brother off to boarding school. Wilford wanted little to do with his daughter. She had a deformity to her arm from birth. Withered. He would have disowned April, but Ellen wouldn't allow that. Upstairs, is a whole play room dedicated to her.” He pointed to a corner of the upstairs, which you peeked in to see a soft pink rose colored room filled with toys and dolls for a little girl. 

“What was wrong with April, to cause her to have a withered arm?” you asked and Charles shrugged. 

“It's said that Wilford wasn't faithful during his and Ellen's honeymoon, passed on a exotic disease to Ellen. She was ravaged in the years following their return to Rose Red. Which was also a honeymoon gift. He promised her anything she wanted. So the two years they were gone Rose Red was being built by one of the largest crew of men seen at the time. They even installed a train to bring in supplies from the harbor.” 

Charles directed you down the stairs to go look out a window, and far off beyond what looked like a greenhouse was a large train, like a black ghost of the past, rusting away under the vines wrapped around the engine. Squinting you could have sworn you saw a couple of women following a lantern down the path. “Rose Red experienced the first deaths with that crew. The train was derailed, killing hundreds of men on the grounds at once.” 

You shuddered while pulling away your gaze from the train. “How awful.” 

“How awful indeed.” Charles nodded, and tilted his head. “Some believe that such a massive tragedy stains the land, maybe what brought the house to life. Come, some of the more interesting rooms are upstairs.” 

Crossing the room for the massive grand staircase. “Do you actually believe that Charles?” 

“No, no I believe something else powers this house. I have my theories.” Charles gave a secretive smile, the two of you started up the many flights of stairs. He gave a bit more history of the house, including the most recent events that officially shut the doors for good to all further investigations till now. “A team of psychics led by a college professor came in. There were four men and five women with varying abilities. One woman disappeared, one died when she refused to leave, and two men died on the property during that weekend.” 

You pulled up a bit hearing this, closing your arms around yourself as if to protect you, like that could protect you. “Wait, should anyone even be here?” You said fearfully, and Charles looked back at you with a reassuring smile. 

“I assure you the house is dormant. The state of New York wouldn't allow us to have a charity here unless it was perfectly safe. I myself have been here many times.” His voice was smooth and confident, letting you relax a bit. Giving a nervous chuckle, you eased back into holding onto the crook of his arm, his other hand patting yours. He dropped a gentle kiss on your cheek. “I will keep you safe, this is my family's home.” 

After several flights of stairs, Charles led you into a massive hallway, doors lining each side. The symmetry while looking down the hall gave the illusion of it going on forever, you could just barely see the end of the hallway, or maybe it was getting smaller the further along it went. “This place is trippy.” You muttered to yourself but Charles happened to hear you. 

“Yes, it was purposely designed by Ellen this way. She had her own way of doing things that didn't necessarily make sense to anyone else.” He studied doors as you two went along, your eyes kept roving up to see what looked like the ceiling slowly getting lower when he turned you towards a door. “Ahh, the first room on our tour of interest. As I said, Aunt Ellen, well she got creative when designing rooms.”  

Opening a door, you went in and quickly paused as you weren’t entirely sure what you were looking at. Before you were upside down lights, standing upright, and covered in dust and cobwebs. What bothered you looking at them was that they should be hanging above you and that's when you tilted your head up to look above. Unlike any room you've been in before, desks were hanging above you, each one set up to have someone sitting at it as a chair was tucked in. Trays for papers, cups with pencils. It was just what you would expect to see in an office above you. Out of instinct you jumped back, half expecting it all to come crashing down, just to have yourself bmp into Charles' chest, making him chuckle as he embraced you gently. “Easy Dear, it's all safe.” 

You took a few steps away from him with an apology, your head tilted back to look around. “What in the world?” 

Charles, strolled along next to you, hands in his slacks, as he looked up at it all, chuckling. “Aunt Ellen's idea of a joke to her husband. He didn't seem to appreciate it as much as she did. Really it was just another room to show off to guests who came to visit.” You couldn't stop gaping at the details, wandering away from Charles who remained at the door. Even the walls had bookshelves filled with books, reading chairs above your head. 

“I will be right outside, take your time.” Charles slipped out, leaving the door open while you paced over to get a better look. A lamp clicked on to your surprise right above your head, and what your eyes saw made you jump back and yelp. Sitting in the chair on the ceiling looked to be a woman in a cocktail dress, her head tilted back. Decaying grey skin peeling and black hollow sockets where eyes should be was matched with a gaping smile. “Come now dear, don't be shy. You are the newest guest right?” Her head tilted and creaked, giving you what was once probably a seductive smile, but now the lips were stretched too tight and split to show decayed teeth beyond them. You stumbled back into a chandelier that was on the floor, and fell to your backside. Looking back up, the lamp above you was back off, and the chair empty. “CHARLES!” You push off the floor and run to the door, wrenching it open to stumble back into the hallway that Charles catches you as you fall into him. “What's wrong?” 

“I just saw- well I think I saw- there was a person, a woman sitting up there. But not a woman, she was rotting, old clothes.” Your words stumbled out as Charles straightened you back up. 

“Sounds like you ran into one of Rose Reds resident ghosts, Deanna. A famous actress who went missing while freshening up during one of Ellen’s parties.” 

You looked over your shoulder at the door and moved away from it. “Why is she here?” 

Charles rubbed on your arm, to calm you a bit. “She never returned to the party that night. Local police came out and searched the entire grounds for days. But she never recovered. You're pretty shaken, do you wish to continue?” 

You gave a chuckle and rubbed at your hands against your thighs to dispel the nervous energy. You should go, hell your heart was hammering so bad that you might just keel over any minute. No one was ever to see any actual ghosts on these things. Then that's when it occurred to you, side eyeing ‘Charles’. Sebastian was perfectly staying in character, that all this was. Actors, all of it. You almost laughed at yourself for getting caught up in the whole Halloween spook.  

“Yes… I just. I cant believe there are actual ghosts here.” you played along with a shrug, brushing yourself off where you fell in the dusty room. 

“Rose Red is full of many surprises.” Charles smiled in that charming way of his and offered his arm to yours. “Aunt Ellen, well she had a taste for the macabre. Holding frequent seances without her husband's knowledge, as he was away often. It's bound to attract some… interesting energy in a place like this.” 

He seemed to be counting doors, and you were right at his side, willing your hammering heart to calm down. “You're not going to leave me alone again, right?” you worried your fingers into his sleeve, as if weaving him closer, to not let him go. Sure they were just actors playing a part, really good actors. You couldn't begin to guess how they got her to sit upside down like that on the ceiling, but there was nothing to be scared of. 

“No, I'm surprised that the house is actually this active tonight. Maybe it's all the people passing through for the charity. But you're perfectly safe. I assure you.” Another door opened and you hesitated while stepping in. 

The floor shimmered oddly to you at first, till you looked down and went stock still. You were standing on a mirror, the whole floor stretched out in a mirror, and all you could do was picture you stepping on it, and it shattered. Charles took several strides forward, and chuckled softly. “It's perfectly safe. This glass is made to be walked on.” 

You take a few precautionary steps and chuckle. “Another one of Ellen's jokes?” 

“Yes, she took great pleasure trying to come up with oddities to fill the house.” 

You continue being mesmerized with the mirrored floor, watching as you walk across it. “Why? Why so many odd rooms?” 

Charles hummed a bit, tipping back and forth on his heels to toes, watching as you sweep across the floor, grinning to yourself in such an innocent moment. “Well, after April disappeared, Ellen is said to have lost her mind. She claimed that Rose Red must never stop growing. It's in fact true that no one really knows how many rooms Rose Red has. At this point there are rooms like these, staircases that go to nowhere, hallways that narrow to where you have to crawl through. Doors that lead to the outside on these upper floors. It is easy to get turned around here. Rooms seemingly from nowhere appear still. They are not on any official floor plans.” 

You gulp and shake your head. “It all sounds… so unreal. Rooms building themselves? Impossible.” 

“One would think.” Charles chuckles. “But every time it is attempted to be documented, and then when it's double checked, nothing adds up. There’s missing rooms that seemed to have disappeared, only to have reappeared elsewhere, another staircase, the halls won't match up.” 

You paused, still looking down at yourself in the mirror. “You said April disappeared?” 

“Oh yes, she was playing in the main kitchen under the watch of one of the staff. The woman walked from the kitchen to collect something for just a moment. When she came back, April was gone, her beloved doll abandoned on the floor. After a search, again, the staff was brought to the police barracks. She was unable to leave after the questioning.” 

“So they arrested her?” You start to feel cold, chills creeping up the back of your neck like a light touch, sweeping up your back and to the base of your hairline. You reached behind to rub at your neck uneasily. 

Charles seemed to not notice your discomfort, sliding his gaze from you and around the room. “Oh no, they didn't arrest her. No, she was beaten to get a confession as to what she had done with April. Ellen swore her innocence, but Uncle Wilford… oh he paid them to get it out, by whatever means necessary. Her injuries were too severe. She ended up dying here once they finished with her and brought her back, another victim of Rose Red in a way, I suppose.” 

You couldn't help the sadness that seemed to overwhelm you hearing the story. 

“In fact this room also has its own tragedy. Wilford’s brother who also happened to be his business partner hung himself here. From… that light fixture actually.” Charles pointed up at it, but you were looking at its reflection, and the light fixture swayed, a rope tied around it. A heavy set man all blue colored hung at the end of the creaking rope, his feet twitching and his tongue bulging from his mouth. Your eyes shoot up to see nothing above Charles. 

Charles himself gives you an odd look, and you look back in the mirror, he's still there, a swollen hand reaching out as if to grasp you. 

Your own hand was shaking as you pointed down at the mirrored floor. “Right there! You don't see it Charles?!” Your finger points near his feet, in which he looks down and it all seems to disappear. At the same moment, it felt like a heavy rope slid around your neck, and tightened all in a second making you gasp. Your hands fly to your neck, trying to pry at the noose that isn't actually there. When you collapse to your knees, trying to drag in a breath, you happen to see a little girl, in various stages of decay, a withered arm clutching a doll against her chest waved at you from across the room near the door, and an older woman in the same state standing next to her with an arm around her shoulders, merely watching you struggle for air. Your vision started to go in and out, the burning in your lungs now first and foremost in your mind. Charles stepped into your view, kneeling down next to you and you focused on him. 

“Hey! Hey! Y/N, what's wrong.” He yanked your hands away to check your neck, and you were suddenly able to take a gasp of air with a frightened sob, curling yourself in closer to him, and your arms going around his neck. 

“Get me outta here please! I don't want to be in this house anymore.” 

Charles moved to a stand, his hands grasping yours and pulled you to a stand. “Okay, we will end the tour here.” Hurrying you along, you both shoot into the hallway and turn to head back to the main stairway when at the end of the hallway, when the woman you had seen in the upside down room beckoned you two to her. “Come child, the parties this way, I just need to go freshen up, get you dressed for the party.” 

You pulled up sharply in fear with a panicked scream, and Charles spun you around. “This way, there's another staircase at the end of the hall.” 

Now your running with Charles to get away, every door and corner you two ran into became a blur. Once in a while a door would open, some nightmare of a person beckoning you to step in and join them, child like giggles echoes around you or hisses of your name just out of sight made you try to run faster, gasping for air as your lungs burned from running through the endless hallway. Charles was getting winded as well when he came to a staircase but that too was also blocked. This time with a wailing woman, her eyes rolled back to just the whites and clutching her purse to her chest, a dress looked like it had been shredded. Her skin was wrinkled and paper thin looking, what remained of her clothing something from a decade earlier. “I was just here to tour the house, can you show me the way out?” she screamed at you two, below her on the stairs were others, begging to be shown the way out. Now you froze, your mind in shock. 

Charles yanked on your wrist to pull you away as you teetered on the edge of the stairs, continuing to another hallway. 

“The servant's stairs are this way. They lead through the kitchen.” Charles rattled a door knob trying to get it to open, and you looked over his shoulder when there was a flash in your peripheral vision. The carpet in the hallway rolled as if something was racing underneath it, and of course, it was coming right for the two of you. 

“Oh fuck, Charles, Hurry it up” Your hand grasps the handle to, yanking on it. “CHARLES IT'S COMING.” You scream, feeling the weight of panic crushing your chest whenever you looked up, whatever was coming for you was speeding up, flapping dust up from the carpet into the air and you screamed when it was almost on you. The door yanked open for you both to fall in, and slam it behind you, leaving you and Charles in the pitch dark. 

“Oh god, fuck, get us out of here Sebastian.” dropping his characters name, you were over this fun house of hell crap they had made for the charity. 

“What do you think I'm doing?!” He snapped, losing his cool control as he fisted his hand through his hair, taking deep dragging breaths. “Once you hit the kitchen, the door is to your left.” You both start racing down the stairs, trying to be as quick as possible without falling and when you reached that door, you yanked it open and sprinted into the room, expecting to see a stove, cupboards, tables, anything. 

But that's not what you came into, you crashed into a whole other room. Confusion blurs your mind when you take in the attic like dusty interior. Spinning around, a couple times trying to make sense of it. 

“AN ATTIC? WE WERE RUNNING DOWNSTAIRS, NOT UP!” You twist to go back out the door, but Charles slams it shut, and throws a bolt. 

“Oh no Dear, were just where we need to be.” Charles smoothed his hair back, the panicked demeanor completely gone as he fixed his appearance. You backed away from him, licking your lips and panting with a wheeze. 

“I d-d-d-don't understand why we are up here, how we got up here. I want to leave.” Your foot comes down as if you're about to throw a tantrum. “Now. I demand you to take me out of this, keep my money. I don't care Sebastian, I'm all done with this game.” 

Charles crooks a brow, and smirks, striding in close in which you panic and back up further. 

“As I told you before Sweetheart, I don't know who Sebastian is. And there is no leaving. Rose Red needs you, needs you to grow.” 

“To grow? Your fucking crazy.” You start to look for another way out, and your back comes up to a large stained glass window. The famous stained glass Rose that adorned the front of the Manor. 

“Yes, Ellen is still building, don't you see. She needs to feed, and as her great nephew it's my duty to keep her alive.” 

He’s fucking lost it. Hollywood has snapped Sebastian's mind. 

“Just let me go, I swear Seb-” His eyes snapped at you. “Charles… I won't say anything.” 

“Auntie, do you want to let her go?” he asked with a cold grin. “You want to keep building Rose Red right? Keep building for April?” 

Your eyes darted around trying to figure out who he was talking to. But there was seemingly no one there. 

“I will donate more, give you money to keep building.” You felt around your pockets and pulled out your wallet, yanking out your billfold. “See a card.” tossing it at him in the delirious hopes that would appease him. He simply stepped over it. 

“That won't work darling. Auntie Ellen, she needs other materials.” That cold touch you felt before in the mirror room, made you jolt, and you spun away from Charles to see the decaying little girl with her withered arm folded up against her chest. 

“Play with me and baby?” the girl asked, her withered decayed hand shaking as she reached out to touch you.

You reared back and stumbled away to keep her from touching you, momentarily forgetting about Charles till you landed smack into his chest and a forearm locked around your neck. “Why are you scared of cousin April. She just wants to play?” He sneered into your ear, and you started clawing at his arm and trying to kick at him. 

How did you get here, and maybe this was some crazy dream. Your gasping the more his arms tighten, giving one hard clawing motion on his face  when you reach back and kick backwards to cause you both to tumble. 

“You little bitch.” Charles twists to grab at you while you're crawling away, and you kick back one more time, catching him in the shoulder hard enough for him to let go of your foot. 

“Fuck off Prick.” you scream, and yank yourself up, about to run towards the door. You're so close to going back into that hellish fun house when you are stopped right in your tracks, like hitting a wall. 

The lady of the manor stood before you, long off white gown clinging to a corpse. She would have been beautiful once upon a time as your eyes roved her up and down, like all those pictures you saw when you googled Rose Red before your trip, but now she was a nightmare, you stuttering before her with a whimper. “Please... please let me go.” 

“But Dear, Rose Red needs you.” Her voice had a tinkling sound to it, meant to soothe.  

Her brown leathery skin that clung to a skeletal frame creaked when her bony clawed hands cupped your face in a loving gesture, and your terror filled eyes lifted to see her lip less mouth showed what appeared to be fangs. Pale dead eyes softened for a moment, until her claws sunk into your face, tearing through skin and muscle, piercing your skull and her mouth widened to a fang filled gaping rotten hole. 

This is it, this is how I die. Your mind screamed in terror as she descended on you, your vision going dark, and your life just draining away. The pain fades, and your eyes roll back to see nothing. The last thing you will experience in your life, the overwhelming scent of fresh roses. 

Charles wiped at his face when he came to, looking around the attic and seeing nothing more than your still body. Moving to get himself up, muttering to himself. “Fucking bitch, got my suit all dirty.” He walked past your body, and looked to see his aunt picking up a hammer, April standing next to her playing with her doll. 

“I know, more souls for you to feed on Auntie.” He opened the door and made to go back down the stairs, his decaying aunt giving a slight nod in agreement. 

Whistling as he safely strolled through Rose Red, he made his way out the front door, and down the walkway back towards the iron wrought gate. Once he returned, he leaned back against that stone wall, feet crossing at the angle and reaching up to pluck that red rose he had placed there earlier, twirling it back and forth. 

Within ten minutes a couple young women strolled up to him, and he gave them a flirtatious smile, and held out the rose to one of them. “Ladies, welcome to Rose Red Manor, my family home and one of the most haunted sites in New York. My name is Charles Blackwood. Can I have your tickets please?” 

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - The Girls and Their Ghosts

For @evaroze, a sweet gal who inspired me with her super kawaii art. I hope you enjoyed it! And a special shout out goes to @stephreynaart and her comic, who never fails to make me laugh and I couldn’t help but include it in this piece. (There may or may not be a part 2...)

(slight name change to better fit a cute headcanon)

~~~~~~~~~~

“MOVE! MOVE! OUTTA THE WAY!”

“Ouch!”

“Sorry, sorry!”

“Oh, dear me!”

“SHADDUP! MOVE!”

“Stanley, calm down.”

“PICK UP THE PACE, SIXER, I AIN’T MISSING THIS!”

Ford rolled his eyes with a smile on his worn face, weather-beaten and tired, but he continually ran after his twin. Despite the fact that their bodies would hate them for this later, they ran through the hospital as fast as they could. They weren’t this late when Soos had his son. Luck just hadn’t been by their side this time.

After battling a fierce storm to reach the coastline, finding the Stanmobile and having to explain why they were picking it up earlier than scheduled, racing to the center of the state, and parking in an emergency handicap spot, the old sailors in their mid-eighties used all of their strength to reach the Gravity Falls Hospital in time. While Ford was beyond jubilant, Stan was the most frantic and spirited, but that didn’t mean Ford didn’t punch three jerks in the face when confronted at the docks and that he would have no issue using a recovered memory gun to wipe some cops’ memories of a speeding Diablo.

Stan jammed the button for the elevator a few times, decided it was too slow, and bolted to the stairs. Ford followed, pulling out his magnet gun, and called, “Stanley, grab hold of me!”

Inside the stair-covered hallway, Stan grabbed his brother tightly and Ford shot upward, zapping them up a few floors and they landed like cats at the door to the sixth floor. They ran down the hall and Stan counted the doors. “Four… five… six… damn it, where’s eighteen?!”

“Grunkle Stan?”

Stan would recognize that voice anywhere. He ran faster (Ford didn’t think that was even possible) and around the corner Mabel, Gideon, Soos, and Dipper and Mabel’s parents were in a small waiting lobby. Mabel skipped to the old men happily, letting her orange-haired fiancee stay behind at a safe distance, and she hugged them tightly. Ford and Stan squeezed her tightly, haven’t seen her since the summer, the old tradition of a long reunion still going strong, and they soon let her go to have a look at the beautiful young lady with long brown hair, eyes that matched their own, and black lips with pink eyeshadow.

“Well?” Ford huffed, low on oxygen.

“She’s fine, everything’s okay.” Mabel giggled and patted their shoulders. “Any minute now.”

“We did miss it?” Stan checked hopefully.

“Nope!” Mabel said cheerfully. “They wanted to be alone for this, but when the baby’s born we can all go in.”

Stan held his pounding chest and collapsed into a chair. Soos was there to pat his shoulder and welcome him home, to which he immediately asked where his grandson was and if he was too cool for him now, but Soos just laughed and said that Melody would bring him once everything had calmed down.

An hour or so passed before nurses and the doctor started to leave the room. A few more minutes passed with everyone watching the door carefully and soon a very tired-looking Dipper emerged, pinching the bridge of his nose with a bandaged hand. It was amazing how much he resembled the men before him, sturdy and strong like his Grunkle Stan, but still fluffy and favored layers of clothing, like his Grunkle Ford. Like most men in the family, he required glasses, which he happily sported, alongside a small golden band on his left hand and a brown fur coat an old friend had given to him as a wedding present. Dipper had a little bit of stubble, promising a short old dutch beard and possibly a mustache (Stan prayed not a stupid mustache), and despite the bags under his eyes and the tiniest bit of redness that circles his soft brown spears, the windows to his soul sparkled with pure joy and his smile was radiant.

In an instant, his twin sister ran to him and he engulfed her in a huge hug, one that swept her off her feet and spun her around and made her giggle like the child she was at heart. Mabel eventually let him go to ruffle his hair and then asked, “So…”

Dipper grinned, his eyes sweeping the area to see who had arrived in time, and he croaked, his throat thick with emotion, “It’s a girl.”

Mabel squealed and bounced like there were springs at the bottom of her heels. Their parents high-fived and the new grandmother looked close to tears. Soos punched Gideon’s shoulder with a smile. Stan sneakily handed Ford a ten dollar bill, both grinning widely at the arrival of their first great-grandniece. God, that made them sound ancient.

“Congratulations, Dipper!” Ford cheered and clapped a six-fingered hand on his shoulder.

“So when can we see the little princess?” Stan asked with a huge smile.

“Right now,” Dipper said and opened the door for the small crowd.

Stan slipped his beanie off and held it with hands that trembled with excitement. Every time he was allowed in a delivery room had been special. Dipper and Mabel being born had been both painful and joyful, being the first new family members that didn’t hate him or pity him. Jacob Stanley Ramirez’s birth had been honorable with tears and hugs and no hint of pain, though Stan never became a father like he had once dreamed, he was now a grandfather. Now, his own little niblings had a baby to call their own. Stan had been terrified that he might not live to see this day, so he was grateful that not only he got to be here, but that Ford was here with him.

In the bed, freshly cleaned, tired, and glowing with pride and love, Pacifica held a pink bundle in her arms. Dipper was by her side soon enough, rubbing her shoulders and kissing her forehead in thanks. Her smirk immediately went to the old men, but it was too distracted by a trembling, squealing woman her age.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh! Paz, she’s perfect!”

“You haven’t even seen her yet, Mabel.”

“Don’t care, she’s my niece, therefore she’s perfect!”

“Well, come here and meet your goddaughter.” Dipper chuckled.

Mabel was suddenly deadly still, the still-est she had been all day. With the color drained from her face and making her look like a vampire thanks to her mixture of pink and black outfit, she whispered, “I’m… I’m…”

The new parents nodded with supportive smiles. “No one’s better for the job, hon.” Pacifica said earnestly.

Mabel could only bite her lip as she stood by her twin and peered down at the bundle.

Stan and Ford stood by her side, now at the foot of the bed, and awed at the sight. A teeny tiny head was swaddled in the midst of the soft blanket. It was like when Stan saw those newborn twins all over again. A blank canvas with small resemblances to their parents. Stan swore this gal had that Pines’ baby button nose and she somehow already had that perfect Northwest skin complexion. His opinion may be biased, but who cares? This baby was the most beautiful Stan had ever seen (right next to his other kids, duh).

“Wow…” Stan choked. “She’s p-p-pretty.”

“Stanley, are you crying?” Ford chuckled.

“Shaddup.” He said weakly and wiped his wet eyes with his arm.

Pacifica smiled warmly and offered, “Wanna hold her, you old fart?”

With a quick cough and a clearing of his throat, Stan nodded and sat in the offered chair by Pacifica’s side. At this point the old man was an expert on accepting babies and how to hold them properly. He had been practicing since he was seventeen and got to hold Shermie’s son, who today became a grandfather and looked ready to fight Stan for a chance to hold the baby.

However, this time was different. Stan couldn’t be selfish with his time with her. She had tons of other people to love her and make sure she was happy. She didn’t need him. So much unlike Stan, who fought Shermie for five more minutes to hold the twins, and who held Jacob for hours as he cried silently, he let Ford hold the newborn after a few minutes and was content in watching. The rapid trip had tired him out.

“What’s her name?” Ford asked his grandnephew.

“Angelina Susan.” Dipper said proudly.

Everyone was merciful enough to ignore how wet Pacifica’s eyes were.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford had been having a conversation with Dipper over mugs of coffee while Stan entertained Angel when the conversation accidentally morphed into a monologue of Dipper explaining the progress of his ghost-hunting show to his old idol. Ford was listening. Or, half-listening.

As it was customary, Stan found a new snuggle buddy by letting Dipper’s daughter sleep on his chest, a hand over Angel protectively. The baby was almost a year old now and slept with her thumb in her mouth with dirty-blonde hair that she inherited from both parents. Ford smiled at the bright child. While Stan had always been amazing with children, there was something special about Angel that Ford couldn’t quite shake. Seeing her so happy and at peace made him feel the same way.

Later that night, Ford was in the kitchen for something to drink when he heard the start of a baby’s cries. He and Stan were staying with Dipper and Pacifica for the holidays this year while the Mystery Shack was undertaking repairs, and so the old sailor had no issue assisting with the baby if he could to repay the parents for their hospitality by letting them sleep. In his cozy blue flannel pajamas, Ford quietly entered Angel’s nursery and peeked inside, his ears cursed with the stressed cries and he was determined to solve whatever problem the baby had and to put her at ease.

Angel’s cries morphed into whimpers at the sight of the old man above her crib. Her lip trembled and she held her little arms up for him. Ford chuckled and gently scooped her up. “Oh, it’s alright, my dear. It’s alright. I’m here.” He cooed softly and rubbed her back, letting Angel rest her tiny head on his shoulder. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

Ford ran through his big head for a diagnosis of Angel’s distress. No bad smells, no sign of pain or injury. She might be hungry, Ford thought, but just as he was about to leave with her for the kitchen to try to find some milk to give her, the aged scientist noticed something. Angel was holding him very tight. Though she was no longer wailing, she was still crying, even trembling a little, but she did not feel cold. Ford re-positioned Angel to feel her forehead, but she did not feel warm. He then saw her beautiful baby blue eyes and knew what was wrong. Angel had been terrified by something.

Ford smiled softly and held her by his shoulder again to rub her back and he swayed slightly where he stood. “It’s alright, it’s alright, my lovely. It was only a nightmare. They all go away eventually, trust me.”

He and Angel slowly settled into the rocker for restless babies and Ford gently pushed back and forward. Angel was no longer crying now, still clinging onto her uncle’s pajamas tightly, like he was a lifeline, but she was starting to calm down and understand that she was safe. “That’s it, my little angel, that’s it.” Ford praised her quietly.

A quick glance outside told him that it had started to snow in the middle of the night. He smiled at the idea of playing with Angel in the morning, wrapped up like Eskimos and enjoying the gift nature had provided. An old song came to mind and so Ford hummed it quietly to the baby. Perhaps Ma had sung it a fair few times, or maybe it was a brand new tune Ford had made up. Who knows? Regardless, soon Angel was fast asleep and the old man had no strength to get up, so Dipper would simply have to find them in the morning and sneak a picture for jokes and memories.

~~~~~~~~~~

Three years passed. Angel was a bubbly, curious child with a pair of baby twin sisters, Stella and Estelle. It was nice to know Dipper and Mabel wouldn’t be the only set of twins in the family. Mabel and Gideon had their own family, Jacob had even grown up and graduated high-school just a few weeks ago. Stan was beyond proud, and the last four years on land with Dipper and his family to help around the house and practically work at the Mystery Shack had brought its own joys as did sailing around the world. But he was tired.

Ford held his hand when he didn’t have the strength one morning to get out of bed. They had been silent, simply enjoying each other’s presence, for they had already said everything that needed to be said. Not only said it, but said it a million times in the years they had spent sailing around the world and retiring in Gravity Falls together. But Ford wanted to assure his brother of one thing, detecting how hard he was fighting to stay.

He cleared his throat, squeezed his twin’s hand, and croaked, “You can let go, Stanley.”

Stan chuckled weakly. “Nah, I ain’t ready to go. Believe it or not, there’s still something I wanna stick around for.”

Ford smiled at that. He had feared that after so many years of neglect and only staying alive because he had something to do, that when there was nothing to do, he wouldn’t have the will to stay. He was beyond relieved to discover he was wrong. “What is that?”

Stan gave his brother a cocky look, despite being so tired and weak. “My family, Sixer. I’m not leaving them anytime soon.”

Ford found that he completely understood, and privately agreed. “Neither am I.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Not many people thought Ford would last long after Stan died, but the eldest twin managed to stick around for five years before he died of a peaceful heart attack in his sleep. The Pines family were saddened, but they were also happy that the brothers were reunited and that they had both lived full and happy lives. And they knew them well enough to know they would not have been pleased if everyone was sad and made their names taboo.

Angel remembered her grunkles vividly. She was eight when Grunkle Ford died and she took it hard, being very close to him and admiring him like her father before her had, but her family helped her get through it and Dipper assured her daughter that he was happy. That was all Angel cared about.

There were times she enjoyed being a big sister, and times she didn’t. Stella and Estelle caused so much trouble and were the biggest handful anyone had ever seen. Ford once said before he died that the girls gave him and Stan a run for their money. It was like the girls had unknowingly accepted a challenge, and now were pure trouble-making terrors that kept Gravity Falls interesting thanks to their father’s curiosity and their mother’s attitude.

One night, when Angel was ten, she left her room for a glass of water or milk, something to satisfy her thirst, and she tiptoed across the dark house with a smile, the glow of the moon creating squares on the floor through the windows, perfect for quiet hopscotch. Angel stopped at the fireplace that showcased so many old photos. There was the picture of Mommy and Grandma Susan in the diner, waitresses together, and pictures of weddings, fishing trips, holidays, and just hanging out with Aunt Mabel and Uncle Gideon and Uncle Soos and Jacob. One picture Angel carefully picked up and smiled at.

She was only a baby in this picture, maybe a few weeks old, and Grunkle Ford was holding her as he sat in an armchair (she had seen that same chair at the Mystery Shack), with Grunkle Stan leaning against the seat, ruffling his brother’s hair and smiling at the baby. Angel became a little sad; she didn’t remember Grunkle Stan as well as she remembered Grunkle Ford, but she loved them both and missed them. She took the framed photograph with her into the kitchen and looked at it as she drank her water at the table, remembering all she could.

Angel could remember the sound of Grunkle Ford’s voice. It was low and heavy, but soft and comforting, like a weighted blanket. He used that voice to read her stories, using a different voice or accent for each character and even doing the sound effects, whether Angel asked him to or not. She could also remember him and Aunt Mabel knitting and showing Angel how to do it. She didn’t have the patience to learn, but she liked watching the yarn magically turn into clothing and listening to the two swap stories.

Angel can remember Grunkle Ford’s shadow puppets. He was the best at it, and sometimes he would shine a light against a wall, build a mini pillow fort for Angel to rest on, and make pictures on the wall with his special hands. Susie had a vague memory of once saying she wishes she had six fingers so she was more like Grunkle Ford. And he may or may not have started to cry, though Angel to this day had no idea why.

As for Grunkle Stan she mostly only remembered him through Grunkle Ford; Angel was only three when Grunkle Stan died, and all she could remember independently was a very distinct laugh and his smile, but she could remember everything Grunkle Ford said about him and the stories he told. Everyone always said how great Grunkle Stan was, despite being a conman. Angel grinned at the idea of having such amazing relatives, both old men cunning and crafty and willing to do anything for their families. She really missed them.

Angel sighed and left her empty glass alone to put the picture back on the fireplace. As she passed the TV, a video tape fell out of a box below the screen, though she could have sworn she had never touched it. Angel grinned at that; she had a feeling something funny had happened before, but she told herself grief was imagining something that wasn’t there.

She picked up the tape and grinned to find a familiar cursive handwriting on some tape on the top of the black box. Angel quickly slid it into the very old machine and turned on the TV quietly, then sat on the carpeted floor before the glowing screen. What she saw made her jubilant and she had to bite her lip to keep from squealing.

Thirty minutes later she hurried to her sisters’ bedroom and shook them away, climbing on the ladder of the bunk-bed to reach Estelle and kicking Stella awake. “Girls! Get up!”

“What?” Estelle snorted, rubbing her eyes.

“Why?” Stella groaned, burying her head under her pillow.

“There’s something you gotta see, now c’mon!” Angel urged and eventually pulled the twins by their wrists out of bed and practically dragged them out of the room.

Stella and Estelle were a bit less pissed when they saw the TV was on and all Angel wanted was for them to watch something, so they settled on the couch with their sister and Angel re-winded it to a certain point. The twins gasped to find an uncle they didn’t remember on screen.

“My name’s Stanley Pines.” He said seriously, in his beanie, boxers, slippers, and stained undershirt, sitting in his famous armchair. “I was sixty-seven when I made this tape, but now… I’m dead.” He said in a low voice with a strained face and wide eyes, then wiggled his fingers and asked with laughter in his throat, “Trapped in a box underground! Pretty spooky, huh? Haha!”

There it was! That laugh Angel could so distinctly remember. She grinned at hearing that laugh again and glanced down at her sisters, both wide-eyed with wonder.

A sharp voice that was slightly more recognizable interrupted Grunkle Stan’s laugh. “Stanley!” Grunkle Ford scolded behind the camera, while Grunkle Stan rolled his eyes. “Stan, this is for future Pines generations, the children Dipper and Mabel will have that we might not get to meet, their grandchildren! Surely you have a message you want to leave them.”

“Alright alright, I do.” Grunkle Stan said and smiled at the camera as he pointed at his audience. “Remember to work hard and that family always comes first. Also,” Now Grunkle Stan grew slightly more serious again. “I have several pounds of gold and millions in unmarked bills in a safe buried under the Shack, next to the…” His face suddenly dropped, and then their grunkle went on to over-exaggerate, putting a hand to his chest to fake a heart attack, then proceeded to limp over his chair with his tongue sticking out, making dying noises.

As the twins were laughing loudly and probably waking up their parents and Angel tried to shush them but was giggling nonetheless, the camera spun around and Grunkle Ford appeared on screen. “I’m sorry, kids, but this is what I have to work with.” Then he raised an eyebrow annoyingly as Grunkle Stan continued to make dying noises.

Angel paused the TV as the girls tried to silence their laughter, but despite Stella biting her shirt and Estelle holding her breath until she was blue, all three couldn’t help but laugh, not only from the comedic scene recorded for them, but the overwhelming joy they had from seeing their grunkles. Not only seeing their grunkles, but via a message they had created just for them.

Stella wiped a teary eye and asked, “Is that it?”

Angel shook her head. “No, there’s thirty minutes of Grunkle Ford just talking to us and showing us their favorite things, even the Stan O’ War. That was just my favorite part.”

“Forget sleep!” Stella said and ran off for the kitchen. “Start the movie over! I’ll make popcorn!”

“I’ll get the drinks!” Estelle volunteered and followed her twin to the kitchen.

Angel smiled, loving the idea of seeing her family again, and alone in the room, she could feel a presence she couldn’t quite explain, but she looked at the old men in the photograph above the fireplace and whispered, “Thanks, guys. I miss you.”

Meanwhile, invisible to the Earth they dwelled on, Stan stood by his niece with his brother by his side. Proudly grinning, he clamped a hand over Ford’s shoulder and said, “They love us!”

Ford smiled and chuckled, his eyes still on his little angel, who looked at the picture hungrily. With any luck, she won’t miss them for much longer.