#aceo writes things

[aceofstars16]

Well, I made a poll asking if I should post this now...and then I just go and post it without waiting to see what people voted haha xD

This was inspired by @athenoot (not letting me actually tag but I linked her blog!) and her super fun AU idea mashing up Drifting Stars and Relativity Falls!

I don't know if this works for @forduary but it does have portal Ford so *shrugs*

Summary: Mabel loves dimension hopping, but she is starting to miss having a home. And more than anything, she misses Dipper and Stan. However, she may end up seeing them sooner than expected…though they aren't exactly the same Dipper and Stan that she knows.

The street was packed, creatures of all sorts bustling to and fro. Even after months of being in other dimensions, Mabel was still overwhelmed by all of the different aliens. Her eyes couldn’t stop moving, even as Ford pulled her along, trying to make his way through the crowd.

They had arrived in this dimension a few days ago. Unfortunately, they had first been spat out in a rainforest with absolutely no civilization around. But after climbing a particularly tall tree, they had seen a town of sorts in the distance. Which is where they were now, hoping to find some food and maybe even shelter, that is, if Ford deemed this dimension safe enough to stay in for a little while.

 At first, the constant travel had been fun for Mabel. Getting to explore a new world every few days was exhilarating. But she was surprised to find that more recently, she missed a place she could call home. Though, more than anything, she missed Dipper and Stan. Of course, she loved Ford too. He had been looking out for her ever since she had been pulled into the portal, and she couldn’t imagine her life without him now. But still…she wished she could be with Ford and the rest of her family.

Something bumped Mabel particularly hard and she was shaken from her thoughts as she lost her footing. Her hand was yanked out of Ford’s and she fell to the ground.

Panic gripped her and she quickly stood up and tried catching sight of Ford, but the constant movement of aliens made standing still impossible. She thought she heard someone calling her name, but it was hard to hear over the crowd.

“Grunkle Ford!” Yelling at the top of her lungs, Mabel, tried pushing her way through the crowd, in what she thought was the direction Ford had been walking. But no matter how hard she tried, she was too small, and she couldn’t make any headway against the crowd.

Spotting an alleyway through the sea of legs, Mabel spun, jumped, rolled, and crawled until she made it to the backstreet. It wasn’t empty, but it was slightly less crowded. Spotting a box that was sealed shut, she made her way to it and managed to climb on top. But as she looked out over the sea of creatures, she couldn’t spot her grunkle. Ford was nowhere to be seen. Panic overwhelmed her as she realized that she was alone, lost in an unfamiliar dimension with absolutely no clue as to what to do next. It was her worst nightmare.

------

Ford was frantic. He couldn’t believe he’d lost Mabel. He should’ve been holding onto her tighter. No, he should’ve just carried her. What had he been thinking? In a crowd this big, that was the most logical option, and yet he hadn’t thought of it before entering the market and now she was gone.

“Mabel!” He called out again. He thought he had heard her call out a moment ago, but this time there was no response.

Darned this busy city. Reasonably, a city this remote in a rainforest shouldn’t be this crowded. Though perhaps it being the only city for miles was the reason for all of the foot traffic. Either way, he really should’ve scoped out the layout first before walking in. That’s what he normally would’ve done. But Mabel hadn’t had food in over a day. So, her hunger along with the possibility of letting her sleep in a semi normal structure for the first time in…weeks? Had caused him to act rashly. He had only wanted to make sure she had what she needed, and maybe help her mental state. Over the past few weeks, Ford had occasionally caught her looking downcast – though she quickly smiled when she noticed him looking – and this had seemed like a good opportunity to help her feel better.

“So much for that…” Ford muttered under his breath as he continued searching for Mabel. He had just spotted a possible vantage point he could use when something grabbed his jacket and pulled it back.

“Geez, slow down Grunkle D-”

As Ford looked down at the source of the voice, it cut off. His own legs stalled as he saw the boy who was holding his jacket. It couldn’t be…

For a second, Ford was transported to another lifetime. So long ago it felt like a dream. Hot summers on Glass Shard Beach, playing in the water, exploring the sand dunes, fixing up the Stan O War.

He was looking at his brother from thirty years ago.

------

Crap, wrong old guy. Stan thought to himself as he stared up at the man who’s coat he’d grabbed. Now that he had a closer look, he could tell that said coat wasn’t quite the same as Dipper’s, and of course, the man wasn’t his grunkle (okay, technically Dipper wasn’t actually his great uncle either, but it made it easier to call him that, okay?). However, there was something oddly familiar about this guy…

Some other creature bumped into him, threatening to pull him along in the crowd once again, like it had earlier. But then a hand grabbed his arm, and the old guy was dragging him through the crowd.

“Hey, what gives? I’m not-” Stan grabbed at the guy’s hand, trying to get him to let go, only to stop when he really looked at the hand. Wait, six fingers…it couldn’t be…could it?

Looking up, Stan tried to get a better look at the guy’s face. Something had seemed familiar about it when he’d first seen him, but now he was facing away as he pulled Stan along. But six fingers… Suddenly, the bright sunlight disappeared as he was pulled into a small alleyway. There were still a few beings milling about, but not has many as in the main square. Then the man spun around to look at him.

“What are you doing here?”

 Stan took a step back at the sharpness of the man’s voice. A tinge of fear grew in his chest. It wasn’t Dad, he knew that, but there was something so familiar about the words, the man’s stance, the look on his face - he couldn’t shake it. However, the ashamed expression when the old guy saw Stan shrink back wasn’t something Dad would’ve done.

“I-I don’t know. I was just here with my, well I call him my grunkle because-”

“Wait, wait, what? Your grunkle? Who?” Confusion crossed the guy’s face. “What’s his name?”

The man held up his hands and Stan found himself looking at them. He knew in this dimension, six fingers might not be an abnormal thing. But this guy was human, and he looked kind of like Dad…

“Are you my brother?” Stan blurted out before he could stop himself. It was hard to think about Ford looking old - that was just weird - but if he was old, well…Stan could see him looking kind of like this guy…

For a moment, the old man just stared at him, then signed and shook his head. “No, I’m not…well…kind of. I’m Stanford, but not your Stanford.”

“You mean there’s more than one of you? Are there more than one of me? Woah, we could build an army! Though I don’t know how much use an old guy would be but I’m sure you could do something. Oh, eww, am I old somewhere then? How-”

“Hold up. Just…one question at a time.” Old Ford had held out his hand again, as if wanting Stan to stop. He looked a little frustrated, but at the same time, there was the smallest bit of an amused smile on his face.

“There are…many different dimensions, and versions of you and me. I…haven’t met your older version,” a small shadow crossed his face, “but I’ve heard about him. However. That’s not important. What I need to know, is how you got here, and who are you looking for?”

Stan let out a huff. He thought Ford would be as excited as him about all of this but…then again, this was an old Ford and well…maybe he’d been in other dimensions a while and didn’t think it was cool anymore? Sometimes Dipper had seemed less thrilled about things than Stan thought were awesome. Or maybe it was just an old person thing? Gosh, Stan hoped he wasn’t a boring old guy in any dimension.

After a moment, he realized Ford was still looking at him questioningly and Stan realized that he’d have to tell this old version of his brother what had happened. He didn’t really want to, but he had a feeling Ford wouldn’t answer any of his questions unless Stan answered him first.

“Well…I kind of accidently got sucked into this big glowing circle thing that my Grantie Mabel really didn’t want me to shut off, then I met my Grunkle Dipper and we kind of…ran around jumping in all these portal things till we got here. And I swear I’d only been glancing at this cool gun shop, but somehow let go of his hand and then…I thought he was you.” Stan was a little surprised at how quickly the words came. Ever since he’d arrived in other dimensions, Dipper had told him to be careful about saying too much to the wrong people but…this was Ford. Sure, he was old but…it was still Ford. He could still tell him anything.

For a moment, Ford just stared at him, shock lining his face. Then he shook his head and took a breath. “Right…okay…We need to find your Dipper, and I need to…”

“What, you lose someone too?” Stan meant it as a joke, but his smile fell when he saw the concern on Ford’s face.

“Come on, it looks like the crowds are dying down some.” Ford held out his hand and without hesitation, Stan took it.

“I can help you find whoever you lost first.  I’m sure Dipper is fine.”

Ford looked down at him, a disbelieving frown on his face. “I…we’ll see who we find first…”

Putting on his best show of confidence – which was easy seeing as he was used to doing it for Ford – Stan nodded. “I bet we’ll find them both in the next ten minutes!”

------

How could I lose him?!? The thought kept running through Dipper’s head. After months with Stan, he had grown accustom to the boy’s affinity for trouble, which included checking things out that he probably shouldn’t have. So he should’ve been extra diligent in a place as crowded as this, but while keeping an eye out for danger, he must have let go of Stan’s hand and now the boy was lost to a sea of creatures. Guilt and fear clawed at Dipper’s chest. After decades of being alone, he had come to enjoy Stan’s company, plus, he was family.

Taking a deep breath, Dipper tried to still his anxiety, though it was easier said then done. It had already been far too long since Stan had disappeared, and Dipper still couldn’t think of a way to find him aside from waiting for the crowds to die down. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the only option he could see. He really needed to find a better way to keep track of his, for a better word, nephew (he was never the best at remembering all of the names for distant relatives and Stan called him Great Uncle so it worked).

As he pushed his way to a slightly less busy part of the market, Dipper searched for a good vantage point he could wait at, while still keeping an eye out for Stan. That’s when he heard it.

Crying.

His feet stumbled to a stop and he quickly looked around, searching for its source. A bright splash of pink caught his eye – a bit out of place in the browns and tans of the city. Carefully making his way toward the figure, he tried pushing aside the feeling in his gut that something was familiar about the girl. Because, as he got closer, he could tell it was a girl, with short curly hair, and a bright pink sweater…

It’s not Mabel. He told himself, as he realized that’s who he was thinking of. Mabel was dimensions away and, well, she was as old as him now.

Crouching down, Dipper put on his best smile, despite his worry for Stan. “Hey, you okay there?”

The girl quickly looked up, her tear-filled eyes widening as she saw him.

Dipper found himself freezing as well. Because it was Mabel. Or, how she had looked as a kid. Sure, her hair was shorter and she looked more tired than she normally would’ve but…it was her.

He eyes flicked up to his hair then back down to his face. “D-Dipper?”

“I…yes, or no, it’s well…” Dipper frowned, he knew that the girl he was looking at wasn’t his sister. He’d been in enough dimensions to know that there were multiple versions of himself and his sister out there. And unless time travel was involved – which didn’t seem likely – this was simply another Mabel from another world. However…it still looked like her and…it still was a Mabel. He couldn’t push away the weight of responsibility to take care of her and make sure she got back where she needed to be.

“You’re from another dimension I guess…” Mabel’s quiet voice shook Dipper from his thoughts.

“Yeah…I…you know about those, huh?” Dipper remembered a day when he had been so excited about there being other dimensions, and other versions of himself. In a way it was still a nice thought, that maybe one version of himself hadn’t messed up…hadn’t ended up here. But it still didn’t change his situation, and after about a hundred different dimensions, survival was more important than excitement over new worlds.

“Yeah, Grunkle Ford told me about it once. He said he’d found a dimension where everyone was a baby once, he didn’t sound like he liked it but I think it would be fun…” Mabel gave Dipper a smile, though it wasn’t as bright as her normal smile. Or at least, like the one he remembered as a kid.

Then Mabel’s words registered and Dipper narrowed his eyes. “Wait, Ford? That…that’s Stan’s brother…” he muttered to himself.

Mabel perked up at that. “Stan? He’s here too?!?”

Dipper’s face fell as he remembered his predicament. “He…was…I…I lost track of him.”

“Oh…maybe I can help you find him! He can’t be too hard to find!”

A small smile grew on Dipper’s face at her optimism. Typical Mabel. “Well, he’s pretty small, about your size, but maybe with two-”

“WAIT STAN IS LITTLE?!?”

Dipper winced at the volume of her voice, but thankfully the creatures around didn’t pay much attention. “Yes, he’s about…” Dipper realized he didn’t actually know how old Stan was. “Maybe ten, or twelve? I’m not sure…”

“Oh my gosh, we have to find him! I gotta meet little Stan!” The brightness on Mabel’s face was a welcome change from the heaviness he had seen on it only a few moments ago. All traced of tears were gone.

A small laugh escaped Dipper and he nodded. “Well, alright then, let’s see if we can find him.” Holding out his hand, Dipper felt a small stab of sadness as Mabel immediately grabbed it. Just like when they were little…Shaking his head, he forced himself to focus. This wasn’t his dimension’s Mabel…but it was nice to see her again, even if it was only for a little while.

[astrolocherry]

Birthday Moon-Neptune aspects - Trying to Run Away from home with a Mermaids Tail 

Moon conjunct Neptune, Moon sextile Neptune, Moon square Neptune, Moon trine Neptune, Moon opposite Neptune 

There is a transition space between the security of binding in the mother’s consciousness and independent functioning that the child uses fantasy, imagination, and creative play with the archetypal realm as a function to ease the psychic discomfort of detachment. This is the place that people with Moon-Neptune aspects remain part of until the end of life. Though she grows out of being immersed and into carrying it with her everywhere she goes. It’s a treasure box that opens to reveal the heavenly muses, colour palettes and symbols, cinematic visions, and unwritten symphonies. And she may have had access to this early in life, it’s possible that adults recognised her art, writing, or creative gift as a special talent. Though these paintbrushes are dipped in emotion and the ink is already tear soaked, much of this inspiration is a product of deep sensitivity. Other people’s feelings are contagious, and once she is taken by the lunar tides of her own emotion, she is swept into the wide open Neptune ocean and soaked by the tears of humanity. It means that finding this treasure box can be agonising and harrowing, and she is forced under the water to feel and sense every drop. And it’s all so it means something. The recovery is in the artistry, the elevating highs of inspiration pouring out like a cotton candy moon of creative activity. These creative trance-like states can be like embracing the whole universe, a collaboration with angels that replenishes the whole spirit. She finds therapy the creative process, and she heals her audience, onlooker, reader, or listener. She returns them to that blissful transition state where she spends much of her time, the one they vaguely know but cannot remember. 

Even the individuals with Moon-Neptune aspects that do not exhibit these artistic qualities still have a way of healing and redeeming by transporting others to that twilight zone. There is a rich imagination and fantasy life that weaves so intricately into reality that she doesn’t have to try or believe it into existence. It seems to illuminate her natural expression, interactive style, and storytelling beneath an enchanted spotlight. One that makes you wonder if such fantastical things could ever be possible, and maybe believe it for long enough to make it true. 

Cherry art: Strange Moon - by Nico Niemi from ACEO

[hitodama89]

I’m feeling really anxious because Communicating With People TM is hard, so I want to get my mind out of it by rambling about something random I’ve been reminiscing lately: huge art realizations. Like those heureka-moments when you learn something that becomes really vital for you as soon as you hear about it! Maybe it’s just because I tend to be oblivious even to some very simple things, but I’ve had quite a bunch of these moments throughout the years.

These are going to be in order from oldest to newest.

First things first. I was still a little kid, way before I was old enough to go to school, when I saw a pretty picture of a mermaid sitting on a stone in some magazine. I wanted to try drawing the same thing myself and started, as a child’s logic suggested, by drawing the ocean. The rock was already fairly difficult to draw when the whole paper was colored blue, and the mermaid on top of the rock was just a colorful mess. I was pretty upset and didn’t understand what went wrong until either my mother or grandmother explained that I should’ve drawn everything in reverse order: the mermaid first, then the rock, then the ocean. That really blew my mind. =‘D

Sketching is magic. When this one happened I was already in school, maybe in 3rd grade or so. I had a friend who confessed me that she had spied how the best artist of our class drew. (She was really good and always placed first in every art competition of the school.) My friend told me about this weird technique she had seen her use: she drew the lines hairy instead of smooth! We, too, tried that out and Io and behold: we had learned how to sketch.

Inked line art makes everything look professional. I was still in elementary school, but in a different one with different people than previously. Once again in my class was an amazing artist who I admired a lot and tbh who I tried to mimic a bit. For a long while I had no idea what exactly she did to make her comic art look like it was printed and perfect (to my eyes at least) and I went through a lot of trial and error when I finally decided it was because of how the line art looked like. I tried pressing hard with normal pencil, tried to use black crayon and finally even tried this horribly thick and messy marker that bled through everything and smudged like there was no tomorrow. The last one, no matter how inconvenient, produced a look that was already somewhat close, so I continued to try out different markers until I finally got my hands on an actual piece of gold: a thin writing marker with permanent ink. I felt enlightened once again! Here’s a piece from the time when I was still testing all sort of markers: https://imgur.com/b4Bxv10

Circles really are useful. Pretty soon after that, maybe a year or two, I just suddenly one day decided that I want to start drawing cartoon dogs - and that I indeed did for darn many years afterwards. But at the beginning I didn’t really know how to draw dogs, and because I wasn’t nearly good enough artist yet that I would’ve understood anything by studying live models, I used another technique I had heard of instead: the famous circles. One circle for head, one for chest and one for butt. It’s actually pretty cute how clearly you can still see the circles in the first finished canines & circles art piece: https://imgur.com/kDtIO7h 

If digital art is hell, drawing tablet is your Jesus. At some point I started occasionally using computer in art making, and that process in itself was full of amusing mistakes and huge discoveries. I’m not telling detailed stories of them all just because I think most people go through the same things: omg layers, wow brushes, wtf layer masks and so on. But the thing that changed things a lot for me was, of course, drawing tablet. At first I was even somewhat hesitant of using it as I had actually became pretty okay at coloring stuff with mouse and didn’t feel like starting the learning process all over again, but for a reason or another I didn’t completely give up on it. First I used it just for coloring, then occasionally even in making line art on a hand-drawn sketch. Finally, when I was feeling exceptionally lazy and had a big art meme waiting to be drawn, I said fuck it and just jumped to the deep end of the pool by making everything from start to finish with the tablet. I don’t think I’ve had to sketch anything separately ever since.

The first thing I colored digitally: https://imgur.com/2OFi75s

The first thing I drew with tablet: https://imgur.com/H6TinbC

The meme drawn from scratch with tablet: https://imgur.com/uFVG0on

The magic involving quality pens and white color. Even though after that I’ve drawn the vast majority of my art with computer simply because it’s so easily accessible, I hadn’t abandoned traditional art completely. What had always bothered me though was how it was darn impossible to scan a work colored with pens in a way that the scan would show all of the light shades of the actual work. That’s why I became interested in making my color pencil pieces to have as smooth, vibrant surface as possible; if the paper was full of color, even my shitty scanner couldn’t miss it. Eventually I learned two things, one of them being that the quality of your pens matters a lot in this one. You just can’t squeeze pigment out of pens that don’t have any! But the more interesting one was that you can smoothen the surface and blend the colors by coloring over everything with either white or transparent pen. (Or oil - a technique I haven’t yet explored much.) The difference the white layer makes can be seen pretty clearly in these two aceos from the same era:

Without the white pen: https://imgur.com/xh3c2In

With the white pen: https://imgur.com/KypkUqT

And, for now, that’s pretty much it! Ahh, my nerves have indeed calmed down a lot, so I guess this pondering was worth writing.

[frogsandfries]

It's very tempting to say

When I get home, I'm going to finish writing this pattern before I contemplate sleeping, and then get as far as possible before all I want is to die.

I'm either going to eat whatever everyone else is eating, or I'll reheat that pizza. Maybe I'll reheat the pizza anyway, since I can use the toaster oven at home, and pack some leftovers for myself, if there's anything.

It's gonna take like twelve years to get home, but at least my perception of time is straightened back out. Ugh..... but I'm exhausted and it's going to feel like forever anyway.

Maybe now that it's basically winter, it's time to.......hmmmm, I don't want to damage my nice headphones, but maybe some earbuds. I could at least listen to podcasts or something. I've already got so many expensive plans: Load up on flesh tone embroidery thread, get a heated vest that I could potentially wear at work; I have to pay that bill at the college. I could put the money aside for that while I try to set aside van money. I think if I have a couple envelopes to put the money into and I actually use them, it'll be more clear how I'm doing to reach each goal.

In other news, I think I've tipped into "obsessed with my own material" territory. Or maybe, now that I'm actually making a concerted effort to move forward on the project, I want to reach as many people as I can with all the different ways I actually want to work on this project. I mean, I'm already making the lineworks, I can reach coloring page enthusiasts and ATC/ACEO enthusiasts with that. I'm already writing, and I love podcasts. I love long narratives--the only thing that would've made the Bright Sessions better would have been if the episodes were longer, and it had gone many, many more seasons. Wolf359 would be better if the episodes were longer. I could release it in half hour or so chunks.

Then for cross-stitch, I need to write the patterns anyway; I'd make a pittance selling my original stitcheries. But even if I sell like, twenty patterns for a dollar or a hundred patterns for five bucks, or whatever, I still probably make better money per book sold than embroidery sold. That's another thing that wasn't being done for anyone but myself, but if you share it, you reach another audience that you wouldn't have. You can reach zine people and people who collect cross-stitch books and patterns.

Then we get to the final bit, a book containing just the final stitcheries. Look at all those different audiences besides just this audience, that I could reach by offering the whole creative process, rather than just the end goal. Oh, not to mention other kind of bonus content that I had in mind--livestreaming stitching or pattern making.

Imagine if I did decide to release my writing as a podcast. Imagine if I released some frames or some of my tarot cards as enamel pins.

Last night, high out of my mind, it occurred to me that the color palette of the Fool was, ironically, a cool color palette. And it occurred to me that I should probably counter that by making the, I think the magician is next? I know it's Anton's card, the color palette should be warm.

But if I go that way, I think I'll run out of color palettes before I get through my tarot cards.....

[lycanda-arts]

A slightly older ACEO of mine done with Uni pin fine line 0.05, as they are water proof, watercolour pencils & coloured pencils from WHS and a bit of opaque white for the highlights. It was inspired by a song by Subway to Sally: Schneekoenigin (Snow queen), in which the protagonist explains that his beautiful snow queen has come to get him. And although he fears the land of ice and quiet, he is looking forward to resting in her presence, forgetting everything but her, as the snow falls in the village. Her ship is already at the port and will depart tonight, with the compass pointing north. On another note, I was revisiting my art journey of 2016, thinking of what I achieved and what I could have done better and why. Let me get the could have done better out of the way first (As I prefer to end things on a high note, especially at the beginning of a new year):

1) I didn’t draw as much as I wanted to.

2) I didn’t make as much progress as I would have liked. Instead I actually feel, I might have regressed some, because of a longer break in between :/

3) There is no nice way of saying this, but the one and only reason for 1 and 2 was PROCRASTINATION. It was however interesting, when I was lying in bed this morning trying to think of why I would procrastinate: a) Laziness: It’s not. Of that I can be pretty sure. Knowing myself pretty well, I don’t beat myself up this much over things I didn’t do, because I was lazy. Plus, if I can be lazy about something, then it doesn’t mean a lot to me and I wouldn’t be thinking about it 24/7. b) Lack of Creativity: That’s not it either, not this year at least. The last couple of years is a different story. I remember most of my dreams, even now that I am on Antidepressants, and even if I don’t there is tons of songs or pictures out there that could inspire and if every thing else fails, try an idea generator like this one from Sockenzombie (English version hot-linked within her post on that page). There is always possibilities. c) Lack of Motivation: I am thinking about art in various forms almost 24/7. When I’m stressed, when I’m sad, even when I’m playing games I think I can create something for that some time and at work, all I can think about is when I will finish so I can have time for myself to express my creativity. It’s definitely not Motivation that is lacking. d) Not wanting things to end: I realised this with a couple of works recently and even more so with with the inktober and huevember challenges. I have a few pieces (only 3 or 4), which just need finishing touches and yet I have not done so for the last couple of months, although I know exactly what that will be. Inktober was not quite as bad, but huevember was SO DIFFICULT for me to finish. Why? Because it was a nice Challenge. Sure, I could have kept it going, but I probably would not have lasted very long. As much as I love it, it is also quite draining, when you are not used to drawing this much and believe me, there is a lot of thought that goes into the challenge, even though I often decide to use early ideas for them and it looks like not a lot of effort went in. For me it is. At least it is, considering I only gave myself a day. If I have more time, of course I can produce better quality. e) BEING AFRAID: Now why would I think such a thing? Or write it down here for everyone to see? Because it’s true! Every artist is afraid at one stage or another. I AM AFRAID! Afraid I miss my own expectations (which I do often enough). The point here is, I am afraid that one day I miss them so hard, that I get so frustrated with my own lack of skill that I just don’t want to create anymore. And more often than not, I’ve been sitting there, all fired up, pencil (or any other material at the ready) and then my own self doubt started creeping in. What if it doesn’t turn out the way you want to? What if you like the sketch, but your skill is not enough to actually make it work as a proper piece? Do you really want to risk getting so frustrated, that you stop altogether? And that is, when procrastination started setting in. Staring out the window, searching for music, looking for reference (which btw at that stage I didn’t even need) and so on. All the little time wasters, that at the end of the evening make you beat yourself up, because yet again you have accomplished nothing in particular although the motivation and creativity has been gnawing at you the whole time. But tomorrow... Tomorrow will be better... Or will it? Fact is, that this year has been better than many others. Although I focused more on small things, challenges and sketches (and had a wee break in between), than actual finished pieces, I produced more art in various forms then any year before (excluding the school time where I did not really take it that serious).

1) I produced generally more art (drawn and written)

2) I did reignite my creativity, with which I had a little bit of issues with the last couple of years. 

3) Focusing on my Art has helped me learn more about myself (finding more flaws, but also finding ways to tackle them) 

4) I have become much more honest with myself, which has helped me become a bit more stable and more willing to seek help for the things I can’t change myself

What I want to achieve in 2017?

Well, that is pretty easy. Keep creating and this time around, try not to be afraid. It’s ok to be scared, but I should not let it stop me from creating. Even if my skill right now is not befitting, at least I’d be putting down the idea. That is already a form of practising my skill and this way I will be able to revisit the idea at a later time and work on it. It is better then not doing anything and then beating myself up over it. Also, I do want to shift the focus a little bit on finishing a couple of proper pieces this year, even if I have to do them on the side.

[felren13]

Art is the one thing that seems to be unaffected by how sick, weak ... or out of it I may be. This really puzzles me. I love it, but everything else is drastically effected by how I feel or how with it I am at that moment. It's truly a gift I am grateful for but also puzzled about. Like my writing at this moment... I'm sure someone is amazed at how I am able to string such poor sentences together. Well, I feel poorly... been sleeping most of the past week and had to hire a chimp to help me write this. Leave me alone! Not you- the chimp! #art #aceo #writing #artistprocess #drawing #abstractartist #abstractart #ballpointpenart #drawings #drawingart #drawingdaily #drawingpen #artwork #artprocess #urbanart #contemporaryart #wallart #artistsoninstagram #artdaily #coffee #coffeeart #coffeeshops #coffeeshop #coffeelove #coffeelife #drawinghabits

[aceofstars16]

Next chapter here we gooo!

This one took longer to write than I would've liked but I was working on other things too and it is almost 4,000 words so...xD

I'm not sure how long it will take to write the next one and if there will be one or two more chapters after this one, but we shall see!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 Summary: While looking for their lost family members, the Pines find out more about this dimension - and the creatures that inhabit it.

Mabel couldn’t stop looking at Dipper. Sure, she managed to tear her eyes away from time to time to look for little Stan, but she always came back to Dipper. It was weird seeing him so old. But it was still him. She knew someone might say that it wasn’t really the Dipper she knew, but he was so close to being him. And after not seeing her Dipper for months, well, it was exactly what she needed.

An elderly alien rushed past her, giving Mabel and Dipper a wary look before disappearing into a building. A lot of aliens had seemed to be running into their homes, and while it was a little strange, Mabel was grateful for it as the streets were becoming much clearer. Hopefully it would make it easier to find Stan and maybe Ford too, if they were lucky.

Dipper’s hand tightened on hers and he sped up a little. Apparently, the alien’s behavior was concerning him too.

“So…” Mabel ventured, breaking into a trot to keep up with the older version of her brother. She had tried to taper down her desire to ask questions, but she couldn’t handle keeping quiet any longer.

Looking down at her for a second, Dipper raised his eyebrows. “So?”

“How did you end up here? I mean…Ford told me how he did but…” Mabel’s legs tripped over each other as a thought crossed her mind, and Dipper quickly slowed down to let her catch her footing.

“You okay?” He asked, looking at her then around the square, his body tense.

“Yeah…I…I just remembered what Ford said happened to him…did…did I push you into a portal?” Mabel didn’t really want to ask, the thought was too horrible to consider, but she had to know. Was there a possibility for her and Dipper to ever grow apart like Stan and Ford?

Dipper sighed, still looking around, not meeting her gaze. “I don’t like the look of these streets…” he muttered. “We should probably-” he glanced at Mabel and paused. It was as if he could feel the anxiety that was clawing its way into her chest. Or maybe he could just see it on her face.

Squeezing her hand tight, he gave her a strained smile. “No. You didn’t push me into the portal. It’s…a long story, but I think we should find some shelter firs-”

A loud shrieking interrupted him.

Mabel turned to look in the direction of the sound and froze as she saw the source.

“Run!” Dipper yelled and pulled on her arm, but she couldn’t move. The creature had its eyes locked on her and her body refused to respond. The world around her seemed to fade away, in the back of her mind, she knew she should run, but she could only focus on the beast. Something about the dragon-like creature seemed innocent and pleading. It needed help. If she could just touch it…

Then something grabbed her and lifted her up. She fought the arms, needing to get away, to get to the creature. It needed help. She clawed and bit and struggled until she finally broke away from the arms around her. Then she bolted towards the helpless animal.

 “Mabel NO!” A distant voice sounded, but Mabel didn’t know who it was. All she knew was that she needed to do this. It was the right thing to do.

Running as fast as she could, Mabel raced towards the dragon, she was almost there... Then something yanked her arm back. She screamed and fought against it, reaching her arms towards the creature.

Its sharp teeth grinned, it knew she wanted to help. It jumped forward, attacking the arms that were holding her back. She heard a yell but it barely registered, all she knew was that she was free. Rushing forwards, she held her arms out towards the creature. Then she heard a strange pinging sound followed by the beast’s roar.

The world shifted. The bright colors faded and the desperate need to get to the dragon vanished in an instant.

Instead of the poor, hurt animal she had been seeing, she was now looking at a horrifying creature. It towered above her, its spiky scales dripped with something black and sticky, and in its teeth…a shudder ran through her.

Stumbling backward, Mabel quickly glanced back to see Dipper holding a gun, aiming at the beast. His sleeve was torn and blood was dripping from it, but he didn’t seem to notice. His glaze flickered to her and relief crossed his face.

“Get out of here! I’ll try to keep it distracted.”

Mabel didn’t need any more urging, she bolted forward, but she only took two steps before something tripped her leg. She fell face first into the ground, her head ringing with the impact.

“Mabel!”

Dipper’s voice echoed around her and she tried to get to her feet. Then pain exploded in her leg and she was pulled further away from her brother. There was pinging, but the creature was determined to keep Mabel in its grasp. Panic surged through her chest, but as she tried to pull away, the pain in her leg increased. She was trapped.

------

So much for ten minutes. The thought crossed Stan’s mind as he walked next to Ford. It was still kind of weird seeing his brother so old, and sometimes he found himself thinking it was Dipper for a second. But then he’d see the six fingers or Ford’s face and he was quickly reminded who he was actually with.

Stan had tried to ask questions, he had so many swirling through his mind, but Ford had ignored him or told him short answers that didn’t really provide any clarity. So, he’d stopped trying. However, that wasn’t the only reason he’d kept silent for the past few minutes. If he was honest with himself, he was scared. Every time Ford looked at him or talked to him, Stan couldn’t shake the feeling that old Ford didn’t like him. Which was ridiculous! How could Ford not like him? They were brothers! Sure, they sometimes argued and they had their differences, but they always had each other’s backs. But Stan couldn’t push aside the feeling that Ford wasn’t exactly thrilled to have Stan around, and that created a well of fear inside him. Did Ford grow up to hate him? Or think he was just annoying? Was there any way that they would grow apart and not want to be around each other anymore?

Stan bumped into a leg and realized that Ford had stopped walking. Looking around, he tried to see if there was a reason for this. He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary aside from the emptying streets. He’d noticed that a while ago and despite it being strange, it also made it easier to move and harder to get lost so he counted it as a win.

“Do you see the person you’re looking for?” Stan asked. He didn’t see any other humans, but maybe Ford’s friend wasn’t human – he hadn’t gotten his brother to fill him in on who he’d lost.

Ford quickly looked down at Stan, a shadow crossing his face before shaking his head. “No…but I don’t like the look of the locals…something isn’t right.”

As if on cue, an aforementioned alien rushed past them and into a building, slamming the door. The sound of it locking from the inside could be heard even from the middle of the street.

Okay, yeah, that was ominous…but… “Hey, it makes it easier to find people…like the person you are looking for...if they are a person…”

Letting out a huff, Ford glanced at Stan again, indecision on his face. Then he shook his head. “I suppose it doesn’t really matter if you know or not.” He said quietly. “I’m looking for Mabel.”

Stan opened his mouth, ready to ask a billion questions, but Ford held up his hand.

“Not the Mabel you know. She’s younger, about your age. My guess is in your universe, her and Dipper take the place of me and you, and vice versa.”

“Obviously.” Stan said sarcastically, teasing his brother coming too naturally to stop. But then the words really sunk in. “Wait…little Mabel??? What is she like as a kid?!? Gosh, I bet she’s the coolest! I mean, she’s cool as an old person, but like, kid Mabel?!? She has to be the most fun ever!”

A quiet laugh escaped Ford, and Stan was surprised to see a soft smile on his face. “That she is…” Then his face clouded and he shook his head. “We need to keep moving. It might be best to find an inn or-”

A horrible screeching sound echoed through the deserted streets, cutting Ford off.

Ford’s hand tightened around Stan’s and he started pulling him to one of the buildings. Stan offered no resistance. Sure, there were some pretty cool creatures around, but unfortunately he’d learned that some of them only cared about one thing – food.

 Ford pulled at one, door, then another, but they were locked. Apparently, the locals had a reason for deserting the streets.

Then something else echoed through the streets, not the creature’s screeching. No, it was yelling. Human yelling. And one word was plain as day.

Mabel.

Ford froze, his body stiffening. Then, without a word, he bolted toward the sound. His grip on Stan’s hand had lessened, resulting in Stan’s hand slipping out of his. In all honestly, Stan knew most people wouldn’t have followed. But he wasn’t most people. It might be some young Mabel that he didn’t know, and maybe it was a crazy creature that he had no way of fighting. But there was no way he was letting Ford go by himself. His family was in danger and he wasn’t just gonna sit aside and do nothing. So, he bolted after his old brother, letting adrenaline rush through him as they raced towards the sound of a fight.

------

Dipper was back at the portal, watching Mabel slowly being pulled towards it, knowing he would do anything to stop her from facing that fate. But now he was looking at a younger version of his sister – who wasn’t his Mabel but who he still would do anything to protect – as the dragonesque creature pulled her by the leg.

Glancing around desperately, Dipper pulled out another one of his guns. He had found, lost, and made many on his journeys, but he hadn’t been expecting a fight, so most of them were in their dormant travel modes. His hand found one ready to use and he quickly aimed and fired.

The bullet flew at the dragon, but it didn’t even blink as it hit the gooey hide. Instead, it glanced at Dipper and he swore he could see amusement in its eyes, as if he was just a source of amusement for it.

Panic welled up in Dipper’s chest. He had to figure out something. All he was doing was prolonging the pain Mabel was in. He knew from experience how awful it was to have something bite a limb and not let go.

“Let her go you foul beast!”

Dipper didn’t have time to see the source of the voice before a freezing cold ray hit the creature on the side of its head, creating a shockwave of cold. It roared in pain, releasing Mabel from its grip.

Without a second thought, Dipper rushed forward and grabbed Mabel. As he scooped her up, he did his best to ignore the pain in his arm – Mabel was more important right now – and stumbled away from the creature. Only then could he get a look at who had fired the ice blast.

Dressed in all black, the first striking thing was that he was human. Dipper hadn’t stumbled upon many humans aside from alternate earth dimensions, so seeing one was rare. The second was that he was older, and next to him…

“Stan!”

Stan looked at him and waved, then was yanked out of the way by the black clad man as the creature lunged forward.

“Grunkle Ford!” Mabel cried out from Dipper’s arms, confirming what Dipper had already guessed, the man was her Ford. What were the odds of Stan finding the older version of his brother and Dipper finding the younger version of his sister? Maybe it was just destiny, or luck, Dipper didn’t really have time to decide as the dragon roared again, glaring angrily at Ford.

“Get Mabel and Stanley out of here!” Ford yelled as he shot another ice blast at the creature.

“What? I can help!” Stan shouted.

“We can’t leave him!” Mabel cried, gripping Dipper a little tighter.

“Get them out of there!” Ford yelled as he rolled out of the way of the beast’s tail.

Everything inside of Dipper screamed to help Ford. Maybe he didn’t know him, but Mabel and Stan did, and they cared about him. But at the same time, Mabel was hurt and he knew that it was only a matter of time before someone else got hurt. Forcing down the guilt in his gut, he rushed towards Stan, grabbing his hand with his injured arm and pulling him along, gritting his teeth at the resulting pain.

“Hey! Grunkle Dipper, stop! I can help!” Stan struggled against him but Dipper held firm as he continued to run.

“We have to get Mabel somewhere safe first.” Dipper said, pulling Stan along and hoping that his strength would hold out enough to get the kids to safety.

“I’m okay…r-really.” Mabel spoke, and Dipper saw her looking worriedly behind them at Ford’s slowly shrinking form. But despite her words, her skin looked pale and she was shaking in his arms.

As he ran, Dipper kept an eye out for a suitable hiding place. Every door seemed to be closed tight, and he guessed that most aliens locked their doors at night for obvious reasons. Then he caught sight of a door that was slightly ajar. Rushing forward, he pushed it open and stumbled in. But as the door banged against the wall, Dipper realized that his hand was empty. Stan’s arm was no longer in its grasp, and the boy was nowhere to be seen.

------

I can’t keep this up. The thought crossed Ford’s mind as he rolled away from the creature’s mouth once again. He had tried shooting it in the face again, but it had learned from last time and was getting better at anticipating his attacks. He was still able to hit it occasionally, but his hits weren’t slowing it down as much as before, and his movements were getting sloppier as his exhaustion grew. But he had to keep it distracted, had to make sure that it wouldn’t go after Mabel again. He could still see the fear on her face when he had first arrived on the scene. That alone gave him the energy to keep up his attacks, even while his body screamed at him to stop.

Jumping back as the beast once again tried to trip him with its tail, Ford raised the gun and fired. It was hardly a perfect shot, and it only grazed its sticky scales. The creature’s eyes glinted and it lunged towards him once again. Only years of trained reflexes saved him as he barely managed to spin to the side and avoid the dragon’s sharp teeth.

Ford’s lungs burned at he ran towards a canopy one of the shop keepers had set up and slid under it. He knew he couldn’t hide for long, the creature would find him quickly, and he couldn’t risk it following Dipper and the kids, but he needed a few seconds to catch his breath.

Pressing his back against the wall, Ford forced himself to take deep breaths, no matter how much his lungs burned and screamed at him to breath as quickly as possible. However, that didn’t stop the beast from finding him. Through a hole in the awning, Ford could see it locking eyes with him before letting out a roar.

Hefting his gun, Ford prepared himself to run.  

“Hey, stupid dragon, over here!”

An achingly familiar voice echoed through the streets and Ford quickly searched for the source. Sure enough, Stan was standing in the middle of the square, fists raised as if he could actually fight the thing with his hands.

“Stanley! GET OUT OF HERE!” Ford yelled. He couldn’t believe the kid…okay, well, it did seem like something that Stan would do, but he was supposed to be safe with Mabel, not facing off against a dragon.

The creature, who had been focused on Stan, looked back at Ford, as if trying to decide who to go after. It only took a second before it charged at Ford once again, seeming to think that he posed more of a threat. Which was an accurate assessment.

Bolting forward, Ford ran away from Stan, hoping the younger version of his brother would take a hint and get out of there. But as he turned to aim his gun, he saw Stan running towards the beast, yelling at the top of his lungs as he threw a rock at it.

The rock knocked harmlessly against the dragon’s head. For a split second, it turned to look at Stan and, in that instant, Ford saw his chance. With the creature distracted, its face was an easy target. In one fluid movement, Ford leveled his gun, took aim, and fired right at its eye.

The roar that erupted from the beast echoed throughout the streets, making Ford’s ears ring as he bolted forward, taking advantage of the dragon’s distressed state to fire off a few more shots, effectively freezing most of its face.

“That’s right you gross, stupid-” Ford reached Stan and slapped his hand over his mouth before he could say anymore.

“It can still hear!” He snapped, keeping his voice low.

Stan pouted but didn’t say any more. Satisfied that he would keep quiet, Ford removed his hand from his mouth and instead grabbed Stan’s arm, pulling him along as he raced into an alleyway. He knew the creature wouldn’t be blinded by ice forever, they had to move quickly if they wanted to get away without it following them.  

“That was awesome!”

Ford winced at Stan’s voice and shot him a look, but at least he had waited until they’d made it to a different street to speak, and he kept his voice quieter.  

“No, it was dangerous,” Ford snapped in a low voice. “I told you to go with Dipper.”

Stan let out a huff even as they continued to run. “Oh, come on, Sixer. You’re just mad I saved you!”

An icy chill ran through Ford at the nickname. He hadn’t heard it in a long time, and last time he had…Shaking his head, he focused on the situation at hand. “No, I’m mad that you didn’t listen. You could’ve been killed.”

“So could’ve you!”

“You could have too.”

“What?”

“Gramm-”

“There!” Stan shouted out, louder than Ford would’ve liked, cutting off his correction to Stanley’s poor grammar.

Stan pulled on Ford’s hand, pointed towards a building, and despite his frustration with his little brother, Ford gritted his teeth and followed.

As they reached a side door, Stan rushed forward.

“Stanley, wait!” Ford hissed, but Stan had already rushed forward and flung the door open.

“Stop right there!” A voice cried out.

Ford immediately pulled up his gun, ready to fire, only to find himself looking at another gun aiming at him.

“Don’t shoot!”

Ford’s hand dropped a fraction at the familiar voice. Relief washed over him as he saw Mabel sitting behind the man with the gun, who he now realized was the older version of Dipper.

“Stan…” Dipper let out a breath of relief as he noticed Stan standing next to Ford.

A roar echoed through the streets.

“Inside, now.” Ford quickly ushered Stan into the building and followed behind him before grabbing a barrel of provisions and pushing them in front of the door. It wouldn’t stop the dragon, but it would at least make sure nothing else could get in.

Once the door was secure, Ford turned to take stock of the situation. There was a small lantern of sorts lighting up the room. It must have been a supply room, as there were barrels of different foods lining the walls, but thankfully no one else seemed to be occupying the space.

Letting out a breath, Ford immediately looked at Mabel. She looked tired, and paler than usual, but thankfully her leg seemed to already have been tended to.

Walking forward, he crouched down, opening his mouth to speak, but two small arms were flung around his neck before anything could come out.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” Mabel said quietly, her arms tightening around him.

A lump formed in Ford’s throat and he carefully wrapped his arms around her and hugged her back, taking comfort from the fact that she was here and she was okay.

“I helped!”

Stan’s voice sounded from behind him and Ford felt his annoyance at his brother’s recklessness return. But then Mabel leaned back from her hug and a grin grew on her face as she saw Stan, who was standing next to Dipper.

“Well now I know you’re Stan!”

A grin grew on Stan’s face. “And you’re Mabel, the coolest Grantie ever!”

“Uh…” Mabel paused at that, seemingly unsure how to respond. “Thanks?”

“So, do I like fight a bunch of stuff when I’m old too?” Stan didn’t seem worried about Mabel’s uncertainty, and despite the frustration that still tried to cling to Ford, he was grateful that Mabel seemed to be acting like herself.

“Oh, yes! You punched a dinosaur in the face to get Waddles back for me, and you fought off a bunch of zombies to protect me and Dipper, it was so-” A shadow passed over Mabel’s face as she seemed to remember that the Stan and Dipper in the room with them weren’t the ones who had experienced those events with her.

A mix of sadness and anger pricked at Ford’s heart and he quickly cleared his throat. “We will have time for stories later. Mabel, you should rest.”

Mabel glanced at her leg, then at Stan and Dipper. “Only if Dipper rests too.”

Ford glance at the older version of his great nephew and noticed the bandage around his arm for the first time, along with the uncertainty on his face.

“I can keep watch.” Ford said, knowing that if Dipper was anything like him, he wouldn’t be able to rest unless he knew it was safe.

Dipper opened his mouth, then looked at Mabel and sighed. “Okay, I’ll rest some. But only if you or Stan wakes me up to take over after a few hours.” He looked at Ford for a moment, as if studying him. “You look like you could use some sleep too.”

“I assure you I’m-” Ford started, but Mabel poked him and he saw her looking worriedly at him. Leave it to her to worry about him when she was the one with the hurt leg.

“You did run a lot.” Stan said pointedly, though Ford was surprised to see worry on his face as well.

Glancing at Dipper, and seeing a similar concern on his face, he realized he was outvoted three to one.

“Alright, deal.”

[aceofstars16]

Next chapter is up!

It...took a while cause...creating anything has been hard but...here you go! I want to finish this by the end of the year but we'll see if that happens...And I want to make a cover too but...*gestures to feeling really burnout and unmotivated*

And as always, the chapter is below the cut as well.

Complications arise in the aftermath of the dragon attack.

“That’s not good.” Dipper muttered to himself. He had been on watch for a few hours now, and he could hear the sound of foot traffic outside the store room they had found shelter in. Thankfully, no one had tried to come in yet, but that was the least of his worries right now. As time ticked on, his arm had started aching more and more, as if the salve he’d used on it had stopped working. That shouldn’t be possible, every time he’d used it before, it had healed the wound after a single use. But as he unrolled the bandage on his arm, he grimaced. He had stopped bleeding, but the teeth marks were still prevalent, and his skin felt warm to the touch. Something about the dragon’s teeth - or maybe what had been in its teeth – obviously was too strong for even the salve from dimension 326 to solve.

At least I’m used to this sort of thing. Dipper thought to himself as he grabbed a new bandage and loosely wrapped it around his arm, there was no point in using salve unless he knew it was going to work. Biting the bandage with his teeth, he managed to tighten it enough. It had been easier last night. Mabel had helped bandage him up after he had taken a look at her leg.

Mabel! Dipper quickly looked at the younger version of his sister. Her wound had been much worse than his, and as soon as he saw her, he froze. She was pale, and seemed to be shivering. A chill went through his own body at the sight, though part of that must’ve been the fever from his own infection.

Quickly glancing at Stan, Dipper was relieved to see that he was still asleep. He didn’t want his nephew to worry. Then he looked at Ford, who Mabel seemed to have curled up against in her sleep. For a moment, Dipper debated what to do. He obviously needed to get help, for himself and Mabel. He could just leave, after all, the room had been secure until now. But he knew how quickly a safe place could become compromised.

Standing up as quietly as he could, Dipper carefully made his way over to Ford and tapped him gently. For a moment, it seemed as if Ford was still asleep, but then his eyes opened slightly and he seemed to scan the room before looking at Dipper.

“Something wrong?” He asked in barely a whisper.

Dipper bit his lip and nodded to Mabel, who was still sound asleep despite Ford’s movements.

When Ford glanced down at Mabel, he froze, his body growing rigid.

“I’m going to look for something to help.” Dipper said quietly and pointed to his arm. “I have a pretty good idea of what she’s feeling right now.”

“Are you strong enough to be up and about?” Ford asked, frowning slightly.

Dipper nodded. “I’ve been through worse.”

Understanding flicked across Ford’s face and he nodded. “Hurry.”

“I will.” Dipper glanced at Stan then Mabel again. “I shouldn’t be more than an hour.”

Standing up, Dipper carefully made his way to the door and slid the barrel out of the way. Then he slipped out into the alley. 

-----

The ground grew distant as Stan let go of the shutdown switch. He was weightless. The whole room was vibrating as the machine turned on. Then something started pulling at him. He aimed a punch at it but it wasn’t anything tangible. It was the portal, pulling him in.

“Grantie Mabel! Ford! Help!” He screamed, trying to reach out for something, anything to stop the pull.

“Stan!”

Ford cried out as he tried to swim towards Stan in the air, but he wasn’t making any progress and the pull was growing stronger.

“Stanford!”

“Stanley! Hold o-”

Ford’s voice died away as Stan was pulled into the portal. For split second, he could still see the basement of the shack. Then it was gone, and he was alone.

“Ford!”

Jolting upright, Stan looked around frantically, only to be met with an unfamiliar room instead of the vast space that the portal had left him in. His heart was racing and a heaviness grew on his chest as reality slammed into him once again.

“Stanley? Are you okay?”

Stan glanced towards the voice and saw old Ford looking at him, brow furrowed. Mabel was curled up next to his almost-brother, asleep.

“I…” Stan took a breath and nodded, trying to calm himself. When Dipper had first found him, Stan had nightmares every night. They’d gotten better but Dipper had always…

“Where’s Dipper???” The realization that his grunkle wasn’t in the room brought Stan’s anxiety back full force.

“He left to find some medicine.” Ford said, frowning in concern at Stan. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Swallowing, Stan nodded, but he must not have been very convincing because Ford raised an eyebrow.

“Dipper should be back soon. You…you can sit here if you want.” Ford patted the ground next to him, on the opposite side of where Mabel was curled up.

For a moment, Stan just looked at Ford. In one sense, it was comforting to know that there still was a Ford he could talk to, but it wasn’t his Ford and...he still couldn’t shake the feeling that this Ford didn’t like him very much. But the memories of that night still clung to him, and being close to anyone sounded good right about now.

Getting up, he made his way over to Ford and sat down, not quite touching his brother. As he did so, he noticed how pale Mabel looked and a different worry sparked in his chest.

“Is Mabel okay?”

Frowning, Ford glanced at Mabel before giving Stan a very forced smile.

“She will be once Dipper gets back with the medicine.”

Stan frowned a little, not even realizing he was matching Ford’s expression. “Are you sure?”

Silence. Stan looked up and saw Ford staring at the door, and in his gut, Stan knew he was worried but trying not to show it. Which didn’t exactly make him feel any better.

Then Ford returned his attention back to Stan and he sighed. “Mabel is strong, I…she‘ll be okay.”

“Yeah…she fought off a pumpkin monster one time.” Stan said quietly.

Ford quirked an eyebrow and Stan was pretty sure that meant he wanted to hear more.

“We were exploring the woods…kind of when we weren’t supposed to. But you wanted to find a-oh I mean…my Ford wanted to follow some instructions he found in Dipper’s journal so…we snuck off.” As he spoke, a weight grew on Stan’s chest again and he looked at the ground, trying to fight back the overwhelming sadness. He wished he could go back to that day, when the scariest thing was a stupid monster and Mabel was fine and Ford was…

“You miss him.”

Stan quickly looked up but old Ford wasn’t looking at him, he was staring at the wall.

“Of course I do…” Stan said quietly, then he couldn’t stop himself from asking the same. “Do you miss your Stan?”

Ford straightened at that, a frown replacing the thoughtful look on his face.

“I…it’s complicated.”

“…oh…” Stan mumbled, the weight on his chest growing as he tried to keep tears at bay. Apparently something could come between him and Ford. And if it happened in one universe…would it happen in his? Or would he even see his Ford again?

Another question came to Stan’s mind, one he had been too scared to ask, and maybe he shouldn’t voice it. He was already feeling awful but…might as well get it over with, right?

“Do you hate him?”

----

“That sure is a nasty bite.”

Dipper grimaced as he saw exactly what the doctor saw. His arm definitely wasn’t looking too great, and he felt a lot warmer and weaker than he had when he’d left the sanctuary of the store room. Thankfully, he had managed to find a doctor pretty quickly. If he already felt this bad, he didn’t even want to think about how Mabel was doing. The faster the doctor figured out what to give him, the sooner he could get the same medicine to Mabel.

“What did you say did this?” One of the eyes of the doctor looked up, while the other three continued to examine his arm – she reminded him a bit of a snail in that way, but she was much bigger and didn’t have slime or a shell from what he could see. Maybe a crab was more in line with what she looked like. Whatever, she wasn’t the weirdest creature he’d seen in the multiverse and apparently she was the best doctor in town. At least according to the store owner that he’d talked to.

“I didn’t say.” Dipper responded to her question. Sure, he could mention the dragon creature, but something in his gut told him that it was something to keep discreet. He had overheard some aliens talking about “The Shadow Death” in a way that sounded almost…spiritual, as if it was some sort of evil.

The doctor hummed – though it sounded more like a gurgle – then turned to her pack of medicines and rummaged through them.

A moment later, she pulled out a syringe and before Dipper could react, she had stuck him with the needle. Out of instinct, he tried to pull back before she could inject him, but she moved a lot faster than he expected. Man, was he really losing his touch?

“Don’t squirm. This will get rid of the infection. As for the bite…” The doctor pulled out a spray bottle and rag and sprayed his arm.

Gritting his teeth, Dipper tried not to show how much the spray hurt, but apparently he wasn’t the best at that because the doctor just chuckled.

“It hurts but it helps.” She said before wiping his arm – removing the foam that had arisen from the spray. Before quickly wrapping his arm again.

“There. All done.”

She started ushering him up, apparently she didn’t want him lingering around. Maybe she just had a lot of patients, or maybe she suspected what bit him and didn’t want him around longer than necessary.

“Wait!” Dipper said, planting his feet to keep from being pushed out the door.

“What? The medicine works. You already feel better.”

She was right. Strangely enough, he felt like his fever was already gone, but he couldn’t leave without getting medicine for Mabel too.

“Someone else got bit. A girl, my-my sister. She needs the same medicine…maybe more. She wasn’t looking very good when I left…” Just that thought sent a wave of anxiety rushing through Dipper’s body, but he tried his best to shove it down. He just had to hurry, that was all.

The doctor frowned for a moment, then grunted. “How big?”

Dipper stared at her for a moment, then realized she was asking about Mabel. “About…” Dipper used his hand to measure about how tall Mabel was. “Still a kid.”

For a moment, the doctor just narrowed her eyes at his hand, then she hurried back to her supplies. She rummaged around then came back with her arms full of different bottles and rags.

“Inject this first.” She handed him a prepared syringe with a strange orange liquid in it – different than the one she had used on him.

“Then this.” She gave him another syringe, this one looked like the one she’d given him.

“Clean the wound with this,” she handed him a bottle, “And this,” a spray bottle. “Then have her drink this.”

The last bottle was placed in his arms and Dipper frowned. “This is a lot more than you gave me.”

“A kid needs more, and different. Now go, I have more work to do.”

This time, Dipper let himself be ushered outside, and he could only hope that the different medicines would help Mabel as much as they helped him. He was tempted to use only the things that had helped him but…the doctor didn’t seem to have any ill will and she had helped him. So, he pocketed the medicines she had given him and stepped out of the medical building.

Quickly making his way through the crowd of people that had gotten much larger than when he’d arrived, Dipper did his best to avoid bumping into anyone. However, as he shuffled through the crowd, something seemed…off. Glancing over his shoulder, he tried to pinpoint what it was. Everything looked fine. The aliens were acting normal, so what-?

Dipper stumbled over his feet and barely stopped himself from falling. Moving as fast as he could, he made his way to an alley and immediately hid behind the wall of the building.

As carefully as he could, he glanced around the corner to search the crowd again. And there his fears were confirmed.

Freglo, the bounty hunter. Dipper had some experience with him in the past. He was ruthless and Dipper had only escaped by jumping into a wormhole as it was closing. If he was here…

Ducking back behind the wall, Dipper closed his eyes and tried gathering his thoughts. He wasn’t sure if Freglo had seen him, he didn’t think so. But it was only a matter of time before he tracked Dipper down, and Stan and…Mabel.

Letting out a curse under his breath, Dipper started making his way down the alley. Mabel didn’t have time for him to figure out a plan. His best bet was to get her the medicine and then figure out what to do about the bounty hunter.

Making his way carefully back to the storage room, Dipper did his best to make his trail confusing while still being quick. Freglo used scent to track, so if he could mix it up some, maybe he could confuse the hunter. Or at least give him enough time to help Mabel before facing the beast.

-----

“Do you hate him?”

A weight grew in Ford’s chest as the question lingered in the air. Stan was looking at the ground, his arms wrapped around his legs. The first thought that came to Ford’s mind was, yes. After all, Stan was the reason he was here, the reason Mabel was here. But even as that justification grew in his mind, his heart seemed to balk at the word. Hate. Did he really hate Stan?

“Never mind. I…forget I said anything.”

Stan’s voice was quiet and fearful, as if he was scared of Ford’s response. For a moment, Ford was taken back to Glass Shard Beach, after Pa had said some degrading things about Stan – like he always did. And now here he was, years later…treating Stan the same way. And yes, Stan made a lot of mistakes, and Ford would be lying if he said he wasn’t angry with his brother but…

“No…I don’t hate him.”

“You don’t?” Stan straightened up quickly, looking at Ford in shock.

Trying to squash down the pain that came from the surprise on Stan’s face, Ford let out a sigh and shook his head. “No…I…I might be a little frustrated with him at the moment but…that’s not for you to worry about. I…I don’t know if I could ever truly hate him…”

“Or me?”

For a moment, Ford just stared at the younger version of Stan in shock. “Of course I don’t hate you. I…you remind me of times I…haven’t thought about in a long time…but they were good times.”

“Like what?”

The ghost of a smile grew on Ford’s mouth. “A lot of things, but mostly summers on the beach, fixing up the Stan O’ War.”

Stan straightened up. “You had the Stan O’ War too?”

A small chuckle escaped Ford’s mouth. “Of course, in fact…” Taking a breath, Ford carefully put a hand inside his inner coat pocket, wanting to make sure he didn’t damage his treasure more than it already had been. Grabbing it, he pulled it out and looked at it for a moment before showing it to Stan.

A faded picture of Stan and Ford as kids, standing in front of the Stan O’ War.

“Is that…how…how old is that?” Stan stared wide-eyed at the picture, reaching out to take hold of it.

For a split-second Ford felt a familiar pull at the thought of letting go of the photograph. He had kept it for forty years, through countless dimensions, and he’d never let anyone else handle it. But he let Stan take it. After all, it was Stan, and if he was going to share it with anyone, it would be Stan – young or old.

Stan held the photo carefully, his eyes locked on it. And only after a moment did Ford realize he could see tears prickling in his eyes. A heaviness grew on his chest and he carefully rested a hand on Stan’s back.

Looking up quickly, Stan quickly wiped at his eyes. “Will I ever see him again?”

The question brought an unexpected sadness upon Ford. Not just for this Stan, but…for himself as well. When he’d first been pushed into the portal, he never imagined seeing Stan again, and now it seemed more impossible. But Stan had managed to turn on the portal once, and knowing his brother, he wouldn’t stop until it was back on again.

“I don’t know, Stanley…but…” Ford sighed and glanced at the picture. “Why don’t you keep that? I think you need it more than me.” Maybe that wasn’t true. The thought of not having the picture scared Ford. As if he was admitting that those two kids would never be that way again, would never be as close as they once had, and might never actually see each other again. But if he could help Stan, even an alternate version, keep up the hope that he had lost, well…he’d survive.

“Really?” Stan asked quickly, his fingers gripping the picture tighter.

“Really.”

For a second, their eyes met and an understanding passed between them. The tension that had been lining Stan’s body ever since he had first run into Ford disappeared, and the frustration that Ford felt at his brother’s recklessness eased. They were okay now.

A door flying open broke the moment, and Ford quickly grabbed for his gun, only to relax as he saw Dipper, who quickly closed the door behind him.

“What’s wrong?” Ford asked, immediately sensing Dipper’s stress.

“It’s…” Dipper’s eyes flickered to Mabel and he shook his head. “First things first.”

Ford tried to calm his nerves as he watched Dipper treat Mabel with a variety of medicines. He knew Dipper wouldn’t hurt Mabel, just like he wouldn’t hurt Stan. But still, he didn’t know what Dipper had gotten to treat her and with his hurried entrance and treatment, Ford knew something was wrong.

A few times, Mabel muttered in her sleep as Dipper treated her, especially when he injected her with one of the medicines, but she didn’t wake up. However, the pale tone of her skin seemed to lessen as Dipper applied an ointment to her leg.

“There.” Dipper pulled back from pouring a medicine down Mabel’s throat. His arms were shaking and Ford felt a similar tension in his own body.

“What happened out there?”

Dipper frowned and glanced at the door. “Bounty hunter.” He said quietly, seeming to want to keep Stan from hearing, but the kid had sharp ears and he sat up straight.

Dread pooled in Ford’s stomach as he looked at Mabel. “Did he spot you?”

Dipper’s eyes flicked to the door again. “I’m not sure, but…if he did…”

“We need to move.” Even as Ford said it, he knew that was impossible. Mabel was still recovering and moving her could make her worse.

Looking at Dipper, Ford saw the same concern in his eyes. For a moment, no one moved, then Dipper broke eye contact and looked at Stan.

“Get your stuff, Stan.”

“What?” Stan looked at Mabel and Ford, then at Dipper.

“We need to leave.”

“Now???” Stan glanced at Mabel again.

“Yes.” Even as he spoke, Dipper hastily packed the few items that had been scattered around the room – which wasn’t much. It seemed he traveled as lightly as Ford did.

Stan followed suit, only to stop as he realized Ford wasn’t moving. “Why aren’t you packing?”

Ford exchanged a glance with Dipper. “I’m staying here with Mabel.”

“What!?” Stan blurted out. “What…you can’t…we’re supposed to stick together, right? We-we just found each other and-”

Ford reached out and place a hand on Stan’s shoulder. “Stanley, you have to go. I…I’m not your Ford. We can’t-”

“You lied!” Stan snapped, tears growing in his eyes as he pulled away from Ford.

“No, Stan. I didn’t-”

“L-let’s go, D-Dipper,” Stan stuttered, grabbing at Dipper’s hand and pulling him towards the door.

“Stanley, wait!”

But Stan had already pulled a stunned Dipper out the door. He was gone and Ford felt just as horrible as he had the first time Stan had stormed away all those years ago. Only this time, he couldn’t make it right. Because he’d never see the kid again. He would always think that Ford didn’t want him around, when that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Grunkle Ford?”

Mabel’s voice shook Ford out of pain that was threatening to overwhelm him.

“I’m here.”

“How long have I…?” Mabel’s voice trailed off and as she scanned the room frantically. “Where are Dipper and Stan?!?”

[aceofstars16]

Enjoy! And yes, I came up with that title when I was still salty but...it fits so....xD

In case you can't read it on AO3, here it is below as well:

The REAL Epilogue

Burning. That was the first thing he felt. But as soon as he was aware of it, the pain dissolved into a pleasant warmth, radiating throughout his entire body.

Then he heard music. Sweet, beautiful music. A melody that increased the warmth in his body. For a moment, he couldn’t place why it sounded so familiar. Then it hit him. It was a whistleharp. Leeli’s whistle harp.

Everything that happened over the last few days - no, the last few months- came surging back. Every memory, both good and bad, hitting him like a sledgehammer.

Jolting upright, he gasped - a deep breath that he didn’t know his lungs needed until they had it. He looked around frantically. Had the stone worked? Was everyone okay? Where was he? It looked vaguely familiar but…

“Janner!”

A voice that Janner hadn’t heard in months filled his ears, but before he could fully grasp who he was looking at, arms flung around him, squeezing him tighter than they ever had before.

“Kal.” The name left Janner’s mouth before he even thought to say it as he found himself returning the hug. His brother was okay. He was human. Janner had protected him. But then…

“What-?”

His words were cut off as another pair of arms wrapped around him. Leeli had stopped playing and Janner moved one arm so he could hug her back. Both of his siblings were here. They were okay. But…where was here?

As he turned his attention to the forest around him, Janner caught sight of Nia looking at him, almost in disbelief. And next to her…

“Uncle Artham!”

Janner hadn’t seen his uncle in months, and just the sight of him brought a joy to his heart that he hadn’t been expecting. That joy grew when he saw Oskar and…

For a moment, Janner just stared at the girl standing there, her hand over her mouth. Could it really be? Then their eyes met and Janner knew. Only one girl had that light in her eyes, light that had carried him through some of the darkest moments of his life.

Sara Cobbler.

A moment after their eyes met, she let out a sob – but not one full of sorrow. It was a cry of joy. Which seemed to break a silent spell that had been holding the others back.

In a moment, Janner was surrounded by all those he loved. Being hugged – and kissed by Nia. A happy laughter filled the clearing, even as questions filled his head.

After everyone had sufficiently hugged him, Janner was finally able to ask the question that had entered his mind as soon as he woke.

“What happened? Where are we? How am I…?” His voiced trailed off. Had he just been asleep, or…had he died?

For a moment, the joy in the clearing faded as everyone traded looks.

Artham was the first to break the silence.

“The First Well.”

“What?” Janner looked around again and noticed for the first time, the sound of water.

“I remembered where it was.” Kalmar said, then laughed a little. “Though, it was a little harder to find as a human.”

“How…how long was I…?” Once again, Janner couldn’t make himself say the word.

“Three days.” Nia said softly, a shadow passing over her face, only to lift when Leeli spoke.

“But you’re okay now!”

“Right…” Janner nodded. “But what happened…I mean, is Anniera…is everyone…?”

“They’re all human again.” Kalmar said.

Relief washed over Janner. Then he caught Sara’s eye again.

“How did you…when did you-?”

Sara laughed. “It’s a long story.”

“Yes, and one better told around a fire, if I do say so myself.” Oskar piped in.

“Sounds good to me!” Kalmar said, which set everyone off laughing.

So, a fire was built, and Sara told Janner all about Dugtown. How she had rallied the orphans and escaped the Fork Factory – right at the same time Artham and Gammon had arrived to free them. And about the Fang’s attack and sudden disappearance from Skree. A shadow passed her face when she talked about her parents, how they hadn’t survived. But it lifted when she told him how her and the other orphans had decided that, if they were going to start a new life, they’d love for it to be in a place like Anniera.

Then Kalmar and the others filled him in on what happened after he had taken the stone, at least, for the most part. Janner had the feeling they were dancing around the word he himself had a hard time saying. But Kalmar told him all about giving everyone new names – which he admitted was kind of strange, as the names seemed to just come to him.

After that, came the story of how they found The First Well again. The sea dragons had taken them as far as the Blackwood, but they had to travel into the forest on foot. Kalmar told him how he retraced their steps from Clovenfast, and eventually found the water that he had given Oood only a week ago.

By the time the stories had been told, it was dark out. Nia insisted everyone get some sleep, which Janner was happy to do. Until he couldn’t fall asleep. He didn’t know why. He was tired. But something kept him up.

Eventually, he sat up, sighing as he quietly stood and walked a little closer to look at the water. The First Well water. It didn’t look different than any other water. But he knew better. Besides, the clearing itself had a calming presence, as if everything around it knew the water was special.

“I’m glad I found it again.”

Janner quickly looked over to see Kalmar, sitting against a rock, looking straight ahead. He didn’t look up, even as Janner sat down next to him.

“Me too.” Janner said quietly.

For a moment, they just sat in silence. Then Janner found that he couldn’t keep wondering any more. “Kal? Did…did I die?”

Kalmar stiffened, but didn’t answer right away.

“Kal?”

“Yes.”

It was a whisper, barely audible. But it sent a shiver down Janner’s spine.

“You took the stone from me.” Kalmar added, a heaviness in his voice.

“I know.”

“It was supposed to be me! Not you!” The force of the words broke through the silence of the clearing. Through the light of the moon, Janner could see tears in Kalmar’s eyes. And it was then that Janner realized there were already tear streaks on his brother’s face. As if he had already been crying.

“No, Kal. It wasn’t.”  Janner placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder, willing him to look at him. But he didn’t. “It’s my job to protect you. Anniera needs its king.”

“And I need you!” Kalmar shot back, looking at Janner for the first time. Then he seemed to realize what he said and shrunk back. If he was still fanged, his ears would’ve flattened on his head.

“Kal…” Janner didn’t know what to say. It was his job to keep Kalmar safe. And he didn’t regret what he’d done. But he couldn’t imagine what he would feel like if Kalmar had died protecting him.

Silence grew between them once again, only the sound of the water running filled the air.

“I don’t want to be king if it means you’ll die protecting me.” Kalmar said quietly. “I knew what I was doing…what…what I was supposed to do. I was ready.”

Even as he said it, Janner couldn’t believe it. He remembered the sadness in Kalmar’s eyes that morning on Anniera. Could anyone really be ready for their own death? Especially a kid?

“But I wasn’t ready to see you-” Kalmar’s voice cracked and he hugged his legs, shutting his eyes tight.

If anyone else had been around, Janner might’ve hesitated to hug his brother, but not tonight. He wrapped his arms around Kalmar and hugged him tight, wishing he could say something to help him. But what could be said?

Minutes passed before Janner spoke again. It might not make anything easier for Kalmar, but he had to try.

“I’m sorry, Kal. I…when I saw you with the stone, and realized what you were going to do, I knew I couldn’t let you. It needed to be me. And I don’t regret it.”

The only response was a shaky breath.

“But…Kal, I didn’t do it to hurt you, and I’m sorry it did.”

There was a quiet sniffle. “I can’t just tell you not to do anything like that again, can I?”

Janner swallowed. Because he knew that answer, and Kalmar did too. “I’ll always do whatever I can to protect you, Kal. And maybe one day it will happen again. But…I’m here now, okay?”

Kalmar opened his eyes and looked at Janner, really looked at him. The conflicting emotions swirling in the blue matched Janner’s own. For a moment, they just looked at each other, then Kal nodded. “Okay.”

His voice was still quiet, but it was stronger than it had been. The voice of a king accepting the responsibility of his life.

“Besides,” Janner lightly hit Kalmar’s arm. “You need someone to keep an eye on you for a while. You’re only eleven.”

The smallest smile grew on Kal’s face. “And you need someone to beat you in zibzy and keep your from sitting around reading all day.”

At that, Janner couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Maybe I’ll stand a chance now that you aren’t a wolf.”

“In your dreams.” Kalmar said, joining in the laughter.

The rest of the night was filled with reminiscing and dreaming of possibilities, until both of them fell asleep, imagining a future without the threat of Gnag or Fangs.

And a future they had. The Jewels of Anniera grew, married, and had children of their own. Thorn of course, married Leeli, and Janner’s heart only ever belonged to Sara. And Kalmar found a queen that rivaled even Nia in strength and courage. The stories of their childhood were told near and far, becoming legends that children from all corners of the world listened to with rapt attention. And under King Kalmar’s rule, all of Aerwiar prospered, and Aneira once again became the place of beauty and love that it had once been.

[aceofstars16]

A fic I started writing a *while* ago and finally finished! I was going to try to draw something to go with it, but it's already been sitting for weeks or even months so...I'm just gonna share it now xD

Mabel is creating another sweater masterpiece, but then someone unexpected asks for her assistance.

Mabel was in the zone. Her fingers moved quickly, the clacking of her knitting needles filled the air. This was going to be a GREAT sweater. One of her best! Well, all of them were the best, but still!

She was vaguely aware of Dipper telling her he was going out with Soos and Stan to do…something, she didn’t quite catch what it was. But that was fine, this sweater would take up at least another hour, probably more. And if they weren’t back by then, well, she could start on another one. Or have a dance part with Waddles. Or about a million other things.

The TV was on as Mabel worked. She was half watching, half working, just how she liked it. Which is probably why didn’t notice Dipper leaving. Or just about anything else going on in the shack. That is, until someone coughed. Well, she might not have noticed that either, but it was kind of loud. Almost like they had already coughed once.

Looking up, a grin broke out on Mabel’s face as she saw Ford standing in the doorway.

“Grunkle Ford!” Mabel held up her sweater. “What do you think?”

Ford glanced at the sweater, taking it in for a moment, then a hesitant smile grew on his face. “It’s uh, it’s very colorful.”

“Right?” She held up the yarn she was using. “I have been wanting to use these colors for ages and I finally got around to it, and it looks awesome!”

Ford nodded, but didn’t say anything else, almost as if he was at a loss for words.

Then Mabel had a spark of genius. “Oh my gosh! I can make you a sweater! I’ve tried making some for Dipper but he never wears them. I think ‘cause of his sweating problem. And I’ve offered to make one for Stan too. He says he doesn’t need one, but I’ll wear him down soon, I know it. But! You already wear sweaters!”

For a moment, Ford just stared at her, then he shook his head. “Oh, ah. No, that’s fine. I don’t need a new sweater.”

Mabel’s shoulders drooped and the sweater she had been holding up fell in her lap. All the of ideas she had been coming up with in the last few seconds came screeching to a halt.

“Oh, but uh, I do actually have a favor to ask. And it does involve sweaters.” Ford pulled his hands out from behind his back and showed her the black turtleneck he had been wearing when he’d first come out of the portal, along with the red one she’d seen him wear for the past few days. It was only now that she realized he was wearing a white button up instead of his normal sweater, though his coat was pulled tightly around his neck. “These have a few holes in them. I…can patch them myself, but-”

“I can help!” Mabel sat up straight, her smile returning to her face. “I can do it right now if you want!”

Ford held up a hand. “Oh, no, that’s fine. Just when you have time. I’ll leave them here.” He placed the sweaters on the edge of the couch.

Mabel couldn’t stop herself from picking up one of them. “I can do it now, really, you could even stay and-”

“No, no. Really. It’s fine. There are some things I need to attend to.” Ford gave her an awkward smile which she tried to return despite her disappointment. She really wanted to get to know Ford better.

“I’ll leave you to your current project.” Ford raised a hand in farewell, then turned and left without another word.

Mabel frowned at the empty hallway where her grunkle had been. Then she glanced at the sweater in her lap. “Sorry rainbow sweater, but I have another project I gotta work on first.” Placing aside her colorful top, Mabel picked up the black turtleneck and frowned. It was so dark, and as she examined it, she saw a bunch of holes in it. The red one was better, but still way too holey.

Carefully placing all of the sweaters on the couch, she raced upstairs. Ford might’ve said he only needed a patch job, and he’s said there was no rush. but Mabel knew she couldn’t pass up this opportunity. This was her chance to make something for her new grunkle – even if it was just adding something to his current clothes – and she was not going to wait to get started.

------

Ford frowned as he stared at the rift, moving within its containment unit. He was still at a loss as to how to get rid of it, if he even could. It was just another reminder of his mistakes, and now, thanks to Stan, he was back to square one with stopping Bill too.

The sound of the elevator opening sent a wave of panic through Ford and he quickly closed the door to the cabinet he had been keeping the rift in. He’d told Dipper, yes, but he didn’t want to risk anyone else knowing about it.

“Grunkle Ford!”

Spinning around, Ford was met with the sight of Mabel grinning, her hands behind her back. He was more than a little surprised to see her, it had only been an hour or so since he’d gone upstairs to give her his sweaters.

“So, I know you said there wasn’t a rush, but I really wanted to work on your sweaters right away…” Mabel pulled her hands from behind her back to show him the sweaters. “But I really wanted to do them now!”

For a moment, Ford stared at her. She had worked fast! He wasn’t very knowledgeable about knitting, but he had always assumed it took a while to make something. Then again, he’d only asked for a patch job, so maybe that didn’t take as long.

Reaching forward, he picked up the top sweater – his red one – which, upon further inspection, he could see was now free of holes. “Thank you, Mabel, I appreciate-” He trailed off as he caught sight of his black turtleneck. Because it was no longer fully black. There were grey and white polka dots scattered over the whole thing and on the front was a stitched six fingered hand.

“You like it?” Mabel grinned, holding up the sweater. “There were a lot more holes, and I didn’t have much black left. And I thought ‘hey, everyone loves polka dots!’ and since you have a fix fingered hand on your journal, I figured that would be a fun touch too!”

For a moment, Ford just stood there processing the information. He’d only asked for a patch job, he really didn’t need anything extra, and he would’ve gladly waited for her to get more yarn that would match. But then he met her gaze and saw the pure excitement and enthusiasm shining in her eyes. He couldn’t help but remember her creativity when playing DD & More D, and the fact that she had channeled that into one of his sweaters and was so excited about it…He found a small smile growing on his face as well.

“Thank you, Mabel. I love it.”

“Really?!?” Mabel beamed, holding it out to him.

He accepted it and placed it above the red sweater that he had draped on his arm.

“Are you gonna try it on?”

Ford couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Alright, I’ll try it on.” He handed her the red sweater before carefully pulling the black one over his head. He glanced down at it and smiled. It wasn’t his style at all - even after thirty years in other dimensions, he still found himself trying not to draw attention to his extra fingers - but for some reason, he didn’t mind seeing it displayed on a sweater.

“It looks perfect! Now we really are sweater twins!”

“I suppose we are.” Ford smiled fondly at her enthusiasm. It really was contagious.

“Oh! I forgot! I need to let Waddles out for a bit, he’s been cooped up for hours and I can’t let him out without supervision!” Mabel quickly handed the red sweater to Ford and raced towards the elevator, but not before giving Ford one last grin. “I’m glad you love your sweaters Grunkle Ford!”

Ford watched as the elevator doors closed. Then he glanced down at the sweater before looking up at the dismantled portal and the cabinet with the rift in it. His work tended to be quite messy. With a frown, he carefully removed the black sweater and replaced it with the red. It was a special gift and he didn’t want to accidentally ruin it. No, he decided that it would be saved for very special occasions. After all, this was the first gift he’d received in a long time, especially from family. And for that, it deserved to be treated as the treasure that it was.

[aceofstars16]

Oh look, another Gravity Falls fic! I started this one a while ago but finally got around to finishing and editing it! Title is from the song "It's Alright" by Mother Mother

And hey it actually kind of fits Week 4 of @forduary cause it is older Ford *jazz hands*

You can read on AO3 but I will put the fic under the cut here as well!

Summary: Weirdmageddon is over, everything should be fine, right? But Mabel and Ford find themselves confronted with feelings they'd rather forget, and find comfort from each other. (Aka, Mabel has nightmares and Ford is there to comfort her because we love fluff and Mabel and Ford bonding)

It was late. Ford wasn’t exactly sure what time it was, but the kids had gone to bed hours ago, and he had sent Stan off to get some sleep, what? An hour, two hours ago? Something like that. His body was drained and he knew he should sleep. But he knew what awaited him if he did. Sure, Bill was gone, but nightmares would still come, he knew it. Especially after all that had happened. Even in the waking hours, he couldn’t get rid of the image of him pointing the memory gun at Stan, no matter how hard he wished it would leave him. After all, despite Stan remembering more and more, there were still holes in his memory. Which is why Ford was still up, rifling through boxes he had long forgotten about, looking for anything that might help his brother fill in those holes.

Pulling out another photobook, Ford started flipping through it. He had already put a few aside to show Stan when he woke up, but this one was mostly pictures from college. He put it in the useless pile – though he supposed he might share it with Fiddleford at some point. Ford wasn’t sure if it was irony or a sign of his poor life choices that two of his closest friends had lost their memories because of his decisions.

With a sigh, Ford picked up a frame from the box, only to freeze when he heard a floorboard creak.

Quickly looking up, he was expecting to see Stan – it hadn’t been uncommon the last day or so to find his brother up and about at any hour of the day or night. However, this time, it wasn’t his brother who was up. Instead, he saw his great niece walking past the doorway.

“Mabel?” Setting down the frame, Ford stood up, trying his best to ignore how hard the movement was. Maybe he should try to get some sleep…

Mabel had already walked past the room, but a second later, her head poked into the doorway. “Oh, Grunkle Ford! I…didn’t know you were up.” She fiddled with her nightgown, her eyes flickering to and fro much faster than normal.

“I was just looking through some old boxes.” Ford gestured to the box he had been perusing. “What are you doing up at this hour?”

Mabel glanced at the box, then the floor, then at Ford, then at the wall, before looking at the ground once again. “I uh…” She swallowed, then said in a quiet voice, “…nightmare…”

Sadness pierced Ford’s heart. He was used to nightmares, and in a sense, he knew it was his fault that he had so many. But Mabel? She was far too young and innocent to be dealing with such troubles. He took a step forward, but stopped. He didn’t want to make anything worse. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Looking at him, Mabel opened her mouth, then closed it and bit her lip before shaking her head, which only made Ford more worried about her.

Glancing at the box by the couch, Ford decided a different tactic might be helpful – one that he used quite often with himself – distraction. “Would you like to help me look through my old things?”

Mabel perked up at that. “Really?”

Ford nodded and gave her his best smile before motioning her to come closer. “Of course. There is a lot to look through and I could use the help.”

A smile slowly grew on Mabel’s face and she made her way to the box and picked up an old framed certificate – his diploma. For a moment, she just looked at it, then she spoke. “Wow, the seventies! You really are old!”

A chuckle escaped Ford before he could stop it. He reached down and took the frame from her, shaking his head as he placed it in the useless pile. “I suppose I am getting a little old.” He reached down and picked up another photo album then sat down, patting the space beside him.

Mabel grinned and plopped herself down next to him, leaning her head against his arm as he opened the book, only to straighten up.

“Oh my gosh is that you and Stan as teenagers?!?” Her smile was contagious.

“It is…” Ford said quietly, trying not to think too much about the lump that grew in his throat as he was faced with the memories the pictures brought to the surface. Hopefully that was a good sign that they would help Stan remember. Even if they only served to remind him of all the things he wished he could change.

 “Ooo who is that?” Mabel pointed to another picture.

And so, the night continued, Mabel asking questions and Ford telling her stories of when he was younger. Ford was in the middle of talking about one of his favorite classes at a summer camp when he glanced down and realized that Mabel was fast asleep, using his arm as a pillow.

A soft smile grew on his face, and he carefully set the book they had been looking through to the side. He knew he should simply take Mabel back to her bed and continue his work. There was still so much left to go through. But then, in her sleep, Mabel curled up closer to him. He supposed he could rest his eyes. Just for a few hours…

------

The sky split open, turning the world red. Laughter filled the air.

“Thanks Shooting Star!”

Bill’s voice echoed around Mabel.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Bill’s voice sound behind her. Spinning around, Mabel shrunk back as the demon grew bigger and bigger. Screams surrounded her, growing louder and louder until she couldn’t hear herself think anymore. Chaos reigned. Then suddenly the noise died and she only heard one voice.

“Who you talkin' to?”

She was looking at Stan again, confused, lost, not knowing who he was, or who she was. He turned and looked at her, then a chorus of her family’s voices spoke all together.

“It’s all your fault.”

“I didn’t mean to!” Mabel cried out, tears growing in her eyes.

“Your fault, your fault, your fault!”

The voices grew louder and louder, no matter how hard she pleaded, tried to apologize, they wouldn’t stop. She was drowning in guilt, it was pressing down on her chest, heavier and heavier until she couldn’t breathe.

Gasping, Mabel started awake. The voices were gone. The only sounds were Dipper’s quiet breathing and the occasional bug hitting the window in the attic. But her heart was still racing, and the guilt from her dream was still pressing down on her. Waking up hadn’t freed her from the reality of her actions.

She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t haunted by Weirdmageddon, and all of the events of the last week. And she hadn’t even lived in the apocalyptic world that long, not compared to the townsfolk or Dipper - there were times when she had heard him muttering in his sleep. And then yesterday she had once again stood face to face with her mistakes, when she had found herself lost with thousands of versions of herself.

Holding out her hand, Mabel saw her entire arm shaking. She felt cold despite the humidity of the attic. Swallowing hard, she looked at Dipper. For a split second, she considered waking him. She knew he wouldn’t mind, not that much at least, but…he didn’t know the whole truth. About how Weirdmageddon had really started.

Forcing herself to move, Mabel got out of bed and shakily made her way to the door, then down the stairs. She didn’t quite know where she was going. Maybe to find Stan… he always make her feel better. Or…Mabel didn’t realize where her feet were taking her until she was standing in the doorway to the secret room her and Dipper had fought over what seemed like ages ago.

It was Ford’s room now. Though there still wasn’t a bed in it, just a couch where Ford was conked out…had he really been sleeping on the couch for weeks? How had she never realized that until now? Just another reason she was selfish. The guilt in her chest grew.

“Mabel?”

Ford’s voice made her jump. She thought he'd been asleep. But he was sitting up now, one hand resting on his hip and the other straightening his glasses.

The guilt monster pressed down on her more. Ford needed sleep. Only a few days ago, he had been staying up till all ends of the night. He was finally resting and she had ruined it. Swallowing, she opened her mouth, trying to make herself apologize and tell him she was just going to get a drink, but the words wouldn’t come.

“Nightmare?” He asked quietly, concern lining his voice.

Hugging herself, Mabel tried blinking back the tears that were growing in her eyes, she shook her head. Her performance must not have been very convincing however, because Ford patted the couch next to him.

“Come here.” It was a gentle invitation, and despite knowing she didn’t deserve it, Mabel couldn’t stop herself. She rushed forward and sat down on the couch, curling up in on herself as she did.

A gentle hand rested on her shoulder and pulled her into a small side hug.

“It’s alright…it…everything is okay now.” Ford spoke quietly as his hand moved up and down in a comforting motion.

However, they had the opposite effect on Mabel. Tears blurred her vision as the guilt and regret pressed in on her.

“No it’s not!” A sob shook her body and she curled in on herself even more.

For a moment, there was no response, then Ford spoke again, his voice heavy with remorse. “I’m so sorry, Mabel…”

She froze at the unexpected words and slowly looked up at him. He was staring at the ground, his face downcast. “Wh…what?”

He turned to look at her. “Weirdmageddon…everything that happened. It…it’s all my fault. I let Bill into our universe, I couldn’t stop him before…” He shook his head. “I’m sorry my mistakes hurt you…”

Each word weighed down on her more and more. “Grunkle Ford it’s not…it’s not your fault it…” her throat tightened and she closed her eyes tight, resulting in a tear rolling down her cheek. “…it’s mine…”

Even with her eyes closed, Mabel could feel Ford straighten up. “Mabel, it is not your-”

“Yes it is!” Mabel opened her eyes and looked right at Ford, not even trying to stop her crying. “I-I gave B-Bill the rift! I…if it wasn’t for me W-Weirdmageddon never would’ve happened! Stan wouldn’t have-” Her voice broke as sobs overtook her whole body, guilt pulling her down, down…

Arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a warm embrace.

“It’s not your fault, Mabel.” Ford’s voice was soft and kind, not the angry disbelief she had been expecting every time she had thought about telling anyone what had happened.

“Bill is a master manipulator…he’d do anything, say anything to get what he wants…wanted.”

Hiding her face in his sweater, Mabel was tempted to just let it go at that. Bill was awful…But… “I know…but I…I still didn’t want summer to end. I…I was scared and selfish and…I want to be better but what if I mess up again?!? What if I keep being selfish?” Anti-Mabel’s words echoed around in her head as Mabel curled in on herself.

Ford’s arms tightened around her and after a moment, he sighed and spoke softly.

“I know how you feel.”

Mabel froze. “You…you do?”

“I do.” Ford said, regret lining his voice. “When I was younger, I was so focused on what I wanted, that I hurt the person that meant the most to me. And then I ignored all of the warnings I saw about Bill because I wanted to make a name for myself…Even now…I…I was so…caught up in my frustration and desire to make things right that I didn’t even…think about how my distrust could backfire…I didn’t want to admit my mistakes and…by the time I did…it was too late…and Stanley paid the price for my pride.”

Looking up, Mabel saw Ford staring at the wall, tears pooling in his eyes.

He seemed to sense her gaze and turned attention to her, but not before quickly wiping his eyes and clearing this throat. Then he gave her a gentle smile.

“You’re a better person than I am, Mabel. I…the fact that you want to change now, at your age, shows more maturity than I’ve had for most of my life.”

Mabel saw the sadness lingering under his smile, and she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him. “You’re not a bad person, Grunkle Ford.”

Ford was silent for a moment, then he sighed. “I…I’m glad you think that, Mabel.”

Sitting back a little, Mabel met his gaze. “I don’t think so. I know so! Maybe…maybe we both have some things to work on but you aren’t a bad person. You are just the right amount of nerdy for Dipper, and you’ve done everything to get Stan’s memory back and you’ve sat with me and helped me feel better after I’ve had a nightmares. I wouldn’t want any other person to have come out of the portal.”

The smallest laugh escaped Ford. "I…okay, Mabel…I…thank you.”

Mabel smiled at him. “I can remind you any time you need it!”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Any time?”

“Cell phones!”

“Oh, right…I’m not the best at using them but…”

“Stan can help! At least…” Mabel hummed in thought. “Well, he can kind of use one, and you can learn!”

Ford laughed lightly and smiled. “I’ll do my best.”

“Promise?” Mabel held out her pinkie. For a moment, Ford just stared at it, then he interlocked his pinkie with hers.

“Promise.”

[aceofstars16]

Me, before my hiatus: I’m going to read, write, and draw all the things!

Me after: ….uh…I read some Warriors…and…that’s about it…

[aceofstars16]

My brain every time I write even a little bit of my book:

[aceofstars16]

Mother son bonding time!!!

I just love this episode so much man, it makes me happy, I need Della getting to know all of her boys please! *flops*

Art c) @aceofstars16/ @aces-creative-corner

[aceofstars16]

“No!” Orion stared at her, his brain trying to process what had just happened. One minute they had been running and the next thing he knew she was on the ground, a red stain growing on her shirt.

“Ocean...” Crouching down next to her, he carefully lifted her up, trying not to look at the wound as he shook her gently.

“Come on, you gotta say some something...”

Silence was all that followed and the whole world shifted. She had to be okay...she had to. Holding her close, Orion didn’t even try to hold back the tears that formed in his eyes. 

“Please don’t leave me...” The plea was barely audible as fear gripped every inch of his body. He had just gotten his sister back, he couldn’t lose her again...

 Don’t worry, Ocean will be fine...probably... 😅

I also might have included a Tale of Two Stan’s reference in the fic...if you found it you get a high five ✋ Art and Ocean/Orion c) @aceofstars16/ @aces-creative-corner

Half a Home AU c) @aceofstars16/ @mandaloriandragontrainer

Pose c) @snuffysbox 

[aceofstars16]

“…and then we’ll run off with the treasure because those pirate ghosts don’t deserve it anyway and all the girls come running because we are the two greatest adventures to ever live!”

As he spoke, Stan waved his hands, for effect, getting caught up in his own story as he spoke. Adventuring with his bro, that was the dream.

A small laugh sounded next to him and he quickly looked over at Ford. “Whatcha laughing about, Sixer?”

“Nothing. You just have the best imagination of anyone.” As he spoke, Ford grinned at Stan.

Matching his brother’s smile, he sat up, punching Ford’s shoulder. “Imagination nothing, we are going to adventure all over the world, it’s just fact.”

“So you can see the future now?” Ford asked, sticking his tongue out.

Not daunted the slightest by the teasing, Stan folded his arms and nodded. “Yup. We are going to grow up and find all the weirdest things and be the best team ever.”

“Well, I won’t argue with that.”

Opening an eye, Stan saw that Ford was now looking at the ocean again, excitement lighting his eyes.

“You better not, because it’s gonna happen. Wherever we go, we go together, right?”

Ford turned his gaze from the ocean and he grinned.

“Right.”

Stanuary Week 3 - Dreams

I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted to do for this prompt but...this was fun, I love these boys so muchhhh <333

Art and fic c) @aceofstars16/ @aces-creative-corner

@stanuary