#and fiddleford started to distance himself from him

[pinetreeshack]

elaboration in the tags

[aliensubstance-011]

Fiddlestan AU!!

AU where Ford gets into West Coast Tech, but Stan manages to (somehow) get into Backupsmore and gets roomed with Fiddleford! 

Stan was kicked out after Ford left (because if his brother was ready to leave home, so was Stan). Stan lived in his car & the public libraries he found (all his fake IDs are just fake Library Cards lmao. nerd). Stan also discovered he was queer (did drag for the prize money, then went OH. All these queens are treating me like this because I'm a baby queer. That makes sense. Guess I’m doing guys now.).

I like to think that Stan spent a year or two studying up after Ford left so when he gets in Fiddleford is in his second or third year! This does result in a “I'm your new roommate. You first year?” and Fiddleford going “What in tarnation... I'm THIRD year? How did we end up in the same dorm????”

At first they HATE each other- Fiddleford thinks Stan is reckless, and doesn’t know what he’s doing there, and that he’s kind of stupid, while Stan thinks Fiddleford is some stuck-up hippie who formed an opinion on Stan too quickly (he did). Once they do start talking they have a very quick ‘oh you’re actually not that bad’ moment. Fiddleford leaves before Stan, obviously, but they keep in close contact even after Fiddleford moves in with Emma-Mae. 

Stan and Ford have a huge argument about Ford not needing Stan anymore. Cue: “Of course I need you, you're my brother” “WELL YOU DON'T ACT LIKE IT”, which is another reason that Stan and Fiddleford leave together. Not long after this, around Stan’s graduation,  Fiddleford has a 'I'm gay and don't love my wife' moment, and Stan casually suggests running away, just driving (maybe something a little nostalgic in it, maybe when Stan looks back at his car he feels like he can hear a distant New Jersey shore). The next day Fiddleford shows up with a duffle bag of things, and Stan realises Fiddleford took him seriously. That he’s willing to run away with him, even if it’s not on a boat, that Fiddleford wants to. Stan gets very, very close to realising he’s in love that day. 

They run away after Stan’s graduation and just drive until they get to Gravity Falls! They set up shop there, with Fiddleford doing auto repairs (and making inventions on the side). Fiddleford confesses to Stan when they’re staying in a motel- he thinks Stan is asleep, so he just says that he thinks he’s in love with him, while Stan is laying wide awake in the bed next to him. Stan spends the next few days Freaking The Fuck Out while Fiddleford doesn’t acknowledge what he said. Stan thinks Fiddleford knew he was awake, so when he confesses back he says something along the lines of “I think I’m in love with you, too” and Fiddleford bluescreens.

Just General HCs:

Stan falls first, but doesn't realise until Fiddleford confesses.

Ford is still self centred but doesn't hate Stan. Stan resents Ford for not doing anything when he was kicked out, and a little bit for leaving him. He understands, though, why stay with your good for nothing brother when you have dreams across the country to fulfil? 

Fiddleford is Repressed Gay until he confesses his Awful Secret to Stan who's just like....”okay?”. He does get to the point of marrying Emma-mae, before he confesses to Stan. 

I don't quite know what Stan will be doing, both in Backupsmore and once they move to Gravity Falls. I like a little bit about him either doing Art or Law, but I feel as though he’s not willing nor smart enough (respectively) for either one.

Stan IS smart, don’t get me wrong, he just needs it to be something ‘physical’ that he can interact with. Fiddleford helps a lot with this (having gotten a lot of hands-on work while he was on the farm). 

I think eventually Ford does end up in Gravity Falls too, but by this point he’s distanced himself from everyone not because of Bill, but because of his own hubris. 

Because of Stan and Fiddleford being queer, I don’t think Dipper and Mabel would be allowed to visit them until their parents have no other choice- though they do hear a lot about their Grunkles and see them from time to time. 

If I did include a Bill/main timeline ish plot it’d be Fiddleford who gets tricked- maybe after Ford gets to Gravity Falls, and Bill offers a way to keep Stan happy/repair his relationship with Ford (maybe Fiddleford thinks Stan is going to run away- just without him this time. He knows Stan would never, but he could.) 

I’d probably include a B-plot where Stan thinks Fiddleford will cheat on him with Ford- they click immediately and so much better, Ford is so much smarter, he’s the better twin, because insecure Stan is my favourite thing ever. Just a small detail, but I think that Fiddleford is a lot more confident and stable with Stan, mainly because Stan has encouraged him to step out of his comfort zone so often, and has proved time and time again that all Fiddleford has to do is ask and Stan is right there to catch him.

I'm still not sure what Stan should do, so if anyone has any suggestions, let me know! That and drawing requests god let me draw them PLEASE.

[societyoftheblindeye]

I feel like the way fidds and Stan are presented is so interesting like the masculinity they both give feels soooo very intentional and very modeled off of such specific ideals outside of their upbringings. They both come from areas that one would assume to be kind of hypermasculine in very specific ways like for instance a hog farm in rural Tennessee and very clean pressed neighborhood near the Jersey shore but they both kind of find themselves gravitating towards a more lax and artistic kind of vibe, specifically disco. And they still incorporate textures and patterns and staple pieces from the men of their upbringing into it while also branching out towards more flamboyant personas. Like, this is smth I wrote for a fiddlestan diddy a while back:

Stan was masculine in a way that Fiddleford wasn't used to. He was so used to masculinity being used as a shield. Something to hide behind; something rigid and and unchanging. A strict expectation that was the same from man to man, leaving little room for Fiddleford's silk shirts and flared jeans and shaggy hair. But Stanley's masculinity, in his tank top with his mullet and his curiosity, came off as more inviting. More fluid. It felt like a tide that kept flicking up around Fiddleford's ankles, and the looseness made his knees feel weak. Fiddleford licked his lips at the realization of how well they complimented each other.

Like they both have smth abt them that is so obviously “out of place” to a lot of potential random onlookers but is integral to how they feel abt themselves bc this is how they’re choosing to present themselves to the world ESPECIALLY Stan bc he lives so much of his life as a character rather than just as himself bc that’s the only way he feels he can survive bc being himself has hurt him so much in his life. But even when Fiddleford DOES achieve what the normal expectations for a man would be - a wife and a child and a home and a chance to own his own business - he still throws it all away for the chance to be close to ford. Who I think at this point is safe to call a canonically queer character. So there is smth in him that is very willing to forego all the traditional masculinity he’s managed to maintain for the chance to be close to someone who might understand why he feels TRAPPED by that traditional masculinity

“Oh but it was the 70’s, disco was popular, it was fine to dress like that” just… as someone who also grew up in Appalachia with family who were in their 20’s and 30’s in the 1970’s who still would have ridiculed or even threatened anyone who dressed like this… not always. Just because styles are popular in music or television doesn’t mean that they would be acceptable to someone’s upbringing or their peers, and I just know from growing up in the same kind of environment as Fiddleford that it would be likely and realistic that he rly was only able to dress like this BECAUSE of the distance he had put between himself and his family. And the reason I brought up disco specifically being a big source of inspiration for both of their fashion senses, in relation to them both having a kind of queer sense of masculinity, was bc disco was heavily influenced by ppl who were facing social persecution at the time (feminists and gay men and black ppl) and the genre was in itself a sense of community and social liberation. And even when it was at the height of its popularity disco was attacked and forced out of fashion by racist, misogynistic, and homophobic rock n roll fans in what ultimately became a riot led by a popular macho manliness preaching shock jock named Steve Dahl who started the “disco sucks” movement. So like… disco DID have its time in the spotlight, but it WAS still a source of sexual freedom in a time when that was very much not okay. There was a huge evangelical revival going on the 70’s that specifically attacked the small bit of sexual freedom that society experienced in the 60’s, and it was very much a time when ppl were saying that sexual freedom would turn ppl into actual murderers. So even tho disco was commercially successful, it still wasn’t ideal to be associated with it in a lot of places

But also i don’t think EITHER of them are Fem. I do think they’re both masc bc like… yeah. Like I said, even tho Fiddleford’s style is very disco heavy, he IS bringing in those textures and patterns and staples from his upbringing. And the way he was brought up, he would have most likely seen cowboys as the ideal masculine archetype. And while disco was a heated topic in the 70’s, the same silhouettes were still kind of floating around the country scene. Jeans were flared, just not full on bell bottoms. There were wide collared shirts, but not as deep a cut on the neck. And paisley was a pattern that kind of bridges the two groups. So he’s rly marrying the freedom from disco with the flair of 70’s country, which IS kind of a masculine approach to take when flirting with disco fashion. I also think a lot of ppl conflate body type with gender expression (waify, skinny = feminine/fat, broad = masculine) so they see a thinner guy who’s kind of faggy and go “oh he must be Fem” while disregarding EVERYTHING else abt him.

Like what was the point of us getting this picture if you’re just gonna ignore everything but ford’s stupid shorts?

No parents, no wife, no small town church culture. It’s rly him at his most free and his mustache isn’t even the push broom style of mustache that was commonly associated with cowboys in the early 1970’s. This style of mustache was more associated with bikers at the time, and American biker culture has its roots in the post-war gay community. It’s the same origin as the leather community (as in leather daddy) which is why they share so many stylistic staples. So like… that’s yet another display of affinity towards a more masculine style

I don’t know… I just think they’re both so fascinating & I think considering a character’s wardrobe and styling is rly important to understanding them better

[nowimjustastranger]

Had a thought, similar to a recent ask, but has Watchdog Ford ever had to save a memory-gunned Stan? Maybe from a dimension where Ford didn’t survive weirdmagedon. Maybe from a dimension where he did survive but fully gave up on Stan getting his memories back or somehow just didn’t care. I know he's saved a Stan from Fiddleford's meddling, do you think there are Stans that needed saving from the blind eye? How do the new Stanfords deal with Stans that have been memory wiped or does Watchdog always repair Stan's mind before the relocation? Does he do anything different if the kids are involved/around?

I actually have a bit of a rough idea for yet another mini-series that relates to this so I'll just share that and you guys can let me know what you think! If enough people are interested in the concept, maybe I'll expand on it 👍

Ford doesn't go into the portal when they fight, Fiddleford taking the opportunity to move in on Ford since his defenses were down. Stan's arrival giving Fiddleford an opening to breach Ford's defenses and make his way into the basement. A clearly mentally unwell Fiddleford uses a tranquilizer on both Ford and Stan.

Then Fiddleford tries erasing Stan's memory of Gravity Falls and what went down, dropping him and his car off miles away from town. Stan doesn't even get through the whole day before something triggers his memory and he heads back to Gravity Falls, going to Ford's house only to be subdued again (because Fiddleford has started disassembling the portal).

Stan's mind is wiped again when Stan is trying to ask him questions about why he's here and what does he want with Ford. This time it takes a full day before something triggers his memory and he's back in Gravity Falls, back at Ford's house, lying in wait until Fiddleford returns the next day to contunue dismantling the portal. Stan is able to subdue Fiddleford, but underestimates him and ends up getting his memory wiped a third time.

Fiddleford observes Stan from a distance after leaving Stan and his car in town, witnessing the exact moment Stan's memory is jogged and he makes a beeline back to Ford's house. But Fiddleford gets the drop on him and tranqs him again, bringing Stan and his car to his house (where he has Ford stashed in the sub-basement). He brings Stan down (Ford immediately kicking up a fuss upon seeing his unconscious brother because Fiddleford has promised him that Stan had left) and secures him before tinkering with the memory gun to make the effects stronger.

When he aims at Stan's face and pulls the trigger, the results are catastrophic. Stan's face splits open bone-deep and he's screaming and thrashing against the restraints tying him down to the metal worktable. Blood is everywhere, Fiddleford dropping the gun and cowering as Ford screams for him to do something.

Finally, Stan's eyes roll back as he passes out, going limp and still and silent. Ford calls for him desperately until Fiddleford manages to pick himself up and check for signs of life, relaying Stan's condition to Ford, who silently seethes in his unicorn hair embedded cell. Ford agrees to cooperate if Fiddleford lets Ford personally monitor Stan's health, but Fiddleford refuses out of fear (because Ford is harboring a dangerous entity that could hurt Stan if Ford slips for just a second) and scuttles back upstairs with the sound of Ford's shouting echoing after him.

[moonesaiky]

‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤWorld Falls at a glance! ₊ ⊹

⟢ First of all, what is this AU?

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎OW is an AU where Stanford since his birth was manipulated by Bill Cipher, and when Bill offered Stanford to go with him to take over the world Ford accepted to go with him in the 80s. ㅤIn other words, this happens at a time when Stanford was originally trying to prevent Bill from opening the portal. In that case, Ford wouldn't refuse the real reason for the portal.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Characters and Designs: ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⊹★🔭๋࣭ ⭑⋆｡˚ Stanford ˚｡⋆⭑

ㅤㅤAn egocentric who feels like a freak. Ford was convinced that he would never be accepted on earth by Bill and gave up what humanity he had left.

ㅤㅤHe still cares about Stanley, his family and friends, but wishes to distance himself from them currently enjoys traveling through the multidimension with Bill while they're not busy taking care of the party on earth. Shares powers with Bill through a ritual.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤAlthough he seems cruel, he still cares a lot about living beings in general and is a very sweet person.

★彡 Trivia

ㅤ✧ Feel very guilty about having opened the portal, even though you're living your best life. ✧ Avoid talking to Stanley because he makes this feeling unbearable. ㅤ✧ Is obsessed with Bill, like a prayer. ✧ Has several tattoos of Bill-related symbols.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ٠ ࣪⭑ Bill Cipher ⋆⭒👁️˚.⋆

ㅤㅤThis Bill is still the same, but he knows how to look like a Muse in an impressive way, showing elegance and wisdom when necessary. A first-rate manipulator, even though he genuinely loves Ford.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ You wouldn't want him as a pal, much less a muse.

★彡 Trivia ㅤ✧ Ford made him love the stars again... ✧ Hates Stanley, he knows that his is the key to Ford leaving him. ㅤ✧ Doesn't know how to deal with feelings. ✧ Has developed a taste for painting pictures. ㅤ✧ Watch Ford from the beginning. ༘⋆ Stanley Pines ── .✦

ㅤㅤSpared when the “party” started. His mission became to save his brother from Bill Cipher. Learned to live in the multidimension, and well, he did well with his entrepreneurial streak.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤHe's now wanted in several dimensions and is a space pirate!

彡 Trivia ✧He wears a mask because, unlike Ford, he can't breathe in certain dimensions. This mask generates oxygen and stores it. ㅤ✧ The sunglasses are purely for style, honestly. Or is it to go unnoticed? ✧ He has a scar on his mouth because of Bill.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ Mabel Cipher ★彡

ㅤㅤAll she knows is that she was brought up by Bill because Ford wanted his great-nephews - after all, what it is? ㅤㅤLoves partying with the Henchmaniacs, but doesn't understand why they avoid the “Earth”. She considers Bill and Ford her parents.

彡 Trivia

✧ Like Ford and Dipper, she has the surname Cipher and has always known herself that way. ㅤ✧ Doesn't know who Stanley is. ✧ Loves Bill, and Bill loves her, he considers her to have “chaotic potential”, she thinks that's a compliment.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ Dipper Cipher

ㅤㅤDoesn't really mind that began to exist at the age of 12, but he is very curious about his origin. ㅤㅤ Loves exploring the multidimension with his sister and is completely inspired by Ford. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤHe still wants to understand what humans are. ㅤ彡 Trivia

ㅤ✧ He's very proud of his birthmark ✧ Copies Ford's style, even though he tells Dipper to create his own. ㅤ✧ Not very close to the Henchmaniacs, but likes talking to Pyronica, she's quite intelligent! ✧ Transboy 🏳️‍⚧️

༘⋆ Fiddleford McGucket ── .✦

ㅤㅤAlmost gave it all up after the Weirdmaggedon, but he still had enough sanity to carry on. ㅤㅤHe deleted details and stored them in his memory, currently wandering the multiverse with Stanley in search of defeating Bill Cipher.

ᵗʰᵃᵗˢ ᵃˡˡ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ⁿᵒʷ

(yeah i changed the name..)

[sickospaghetti-o]

Random future head cannons for Gravity Falls.

(I can’t sleep so I’m gonna make it everyone else’s problem)

Dipper:

- Starts the first ever ddmd club at his high school as well as a Cryptid/ Mystery club (Mabel is the vice president of the club and always plans club events)

- Studies ancient history and journalism in college

- Is 100% a loser trans boy (Mabel always helps him with his t shots)

- Makes journals of his own and tried to publish one (Didn’t go well)

- Meets a really nice girl in college that helps him get out of his comfort zone. She finds Dipper’s work on cryptids very interesting. “She’s the one, Mabel. I know it. She just gets me.”

- Forgets to tie his shoes all the time and is constantly tripping because of it

- Still loves BABBA but also listens to Midwest emo

Mabel:

- Waddles still lives with Mabel and wins the world record for oldest pig alive

- Studies Fashion in college and starts her own alternative clothing business (it’s very successful)

- Stan taught her how to con during the first summer she visited gf and she got really good at it but has refused to use her skills unless someone is being an asshole and “Totally deserved it, Dipper! It’s not my fault he didn’t know how to cheat at poker”

- Listens to bands like lemon demon and will wood after she goes through her boy band phase (she goes back and listens to several timz when she misses Grenada and Candy)

- She and Pacifica have been dating since the beginning of their junior year in high school (they confessed to each other over the summer and are currently doing a long distance thing)

Ford:

- He and Fiddleford hang out after weirdmagedon and manage to rekindle their friendship

- Started a new journal with Stan while they traveled the world on the Stan’o’ war

- Found out that the Cold War ended and he learned about the attack on 9/11 and he found out that gay marriage was legalized all in the same day (had to sit down because he thought he was going to pass out)

- Is slowly learning to forgive himself for “falling for Bill’s tricks” and still has to accept that it wasn’t his fault and that he was manipulated

- His favorite new “technology advancement” is bluetooth

Pacifica:

- Over the years she and her family have drifted apart and Paz has learned to live to be completely independent from her parents

- Works at the dinner with Lazy Susan and has come to see her as a mother figure

- Is actually really good with computers and technology

- She went on a walk on night and ended up at the old Northwest Mansion. She was feeling really homesick and so she walked around the gardens for a while and met Fiddleford. They found out that they have the same passion for computers and bonded of it.

- She made an indie mystery puzzle solving game based loosely on weirdmagedon with the help of Dipper and Fidds

- In a relationship with Mabel and still gets butterflies whenever she’s around

Fiddleford:

- Divorced his raccoon wife (the break up was messy, he doesn’t like to talk about it)

- Invites Tate and his family to live in the mansion with him and they all accept

- He and Tate talk a lot and Fidds apologizes all the time for leaving when Tate was a kid. They mange to figure it out and their relationship is getting stronger

- Teaches Pacifica tons about computer tech and teaches her a little bit of robotics (her first robot blew up and set fire to the south garden of the mansion)

- Relearns banjo and is still one hell of a musician

- Barely remembers dating Stan when they were younger but still has feelings for him, he won’t tell him until later (don’t mind me just spreading my fiddlestan agenda)

Stan:

- Took Ford to go visit Shermie (Shermie hits them both and then hugs them immediately after)

- Has stopped conning people as much as possible and now only does it when absolutely necessary (Normally while on adventures with Ford)

- His favorite band is They Might Be Giants and he and Ford sing their songs together all the time

- Bill still lives in Stan’s mind but has no power he’s just like an annoying little voice in his head (they manage to be “friends” and get along)

- He picked up lace making and is incredibly talented (He originally learned how to knit from Mabel, but didn’t like it as much. She showed him what Lacemaking was and he fell in love with the hobby)

- Has gaps in his memory but has been able to regain most of them

- He and Fidds used to date when he was rebuilding the portal but they don’t talk about it anymore. He has lingering feelings but he won’t ever admit it.

[vintage-fuzz]

Some of my Ford Pines Thoughts/Headcanons:

- I personally perceive him as neurodivergent to some extent, if I were give him a specific label, I would be inclined to say that he’s possibly autistic.

- Absolutely has a kill count & is not proud of it. Only occasionally brings this up around Stanley & Fiddleford.

- Was initially in denial of but ultimately comes to realize the extent of how messed up his childhood was, especially regarding Filbrick’s mistreatment of him & Stanley. Eventually he confides in Stan, who later comes to the same realization.

- Like Stan, he is deeply traumatized & likely has PTSD. He doesn’t really come to terms with this, however, until after the events of the show, when, for the first time in about thirty years, he isn’t living on “fight or flight” mode. His symptoms primarily manifest in bouts of insomnia & paranoia. He & Stan seek out counseling at some point.

- Shortly after Stan was kicked out Ford sobbed viscerally out of both anger at Stan & grief in losing him, with this being one of the few instances of him crying in his life.

- Was extremely lonely & depressed in the time between Stanley’s departure & his first day at university due to Stan being his only genuine friend prior to meeting Fiddleford.

- Has like zero innate fashion sense, got his entire wardrobe inspiration from Carl Sagan.

- Is a virgin up into his sixties. However, he did get close to losing his virginity once in college with Fiddleford, but they were both too awkward & inexperienced to actually go through with it. (I’m open to this being negated though, I could see Ford getting up to some stuff while traveling between dimensions.)

- In college he would pull all-nighters, staying up as late as humanly possible studying while Fiddleford, being accustomed to rising early, would either inadvertently awaken him or find him studying half-asleep hours before classes started, much to his chagrin. This dynamic is swapped when Fiddleford comes to Gravity Falls to research with Ford.

- Has developed a subconscious habit of concealing his hands when around others, particularly when around strangers. Tends to either hide them behind his back or in his pockets.

- Is a very skilled pianist but seldom plays the piano. Starts playing it more when at Fiddleford’s mansion, sometimes even resulting in them having duets.

- Has nerve damage as well as extensive scarring & burn marks that litter his body. (He should probably go to a doctor too…)

- Is always chiding Stan & Fiddleford about maintaining their physical health, especially in response to their tobacco usage, yet is habitually neglectful of his own health & hygiene.

- Incapable of driving anywhere both during his research period (car was destroyed) & when he returns to Gravity Falls (expired license & technically doesn’t legally exist). Either walks everywhere (which he enjoys, especially when taking scenic walks in the woods w/ Stan & Fiddleford) or, if necessary, is driven around by Stanley (dreads riding w/ Stan & constantly chastises him for his reckless driving, is the living embodiment of a backseat driver).

- Always sleeps on the top bunk of his & Stan’s bunkbed, both as a child & while at sea on the Stan o’ War II. Seldom does he actually climb down from the bed however, instead opting to jump down from the top bunk in the most overly-dramatic fashion possible, much to Stan’s chagrin.

- Despite being raised Jewish (most likely either Conservative or Reform Jewish) he is not religiously affiliated in adulthood & began distancing himself from Judaism shortly after attending university. Has friendly religious debates/existential discussions w/ Fiddleford, who is deeply connected to his faith in Christianity. Despite that, they respect one another’s beliefs & like being able to hear an alternative perspective.

- Although Ford & Stan were never required to adhere to a kosher diet, they were still somewhat discouraged from eating pork specifically & were never served it at home. The first time Ford tries it is when Fiddleford shares some with him some in college, which he ends up loving.

- Has recurring nightmares about Bill, the most distressing of which are not the ones involving him being tortured or physically abused but the ones that are most reminiscent of when he still had a friendly relationship with Bill, with those dreams feeling pleasant, recapturing how Bill made him feel when initially inside his mind.

- Tries his hardest to assist Stanley & Fiddleford with their memory loss & any other longterm damage from use of the memory gun. Actively encourages them to utilize memory exercises & prioritize their physical & cognitive health.

- Mutters to himself under his breath a lot, thinks no one can hear him. Prone to this whenever flustered.

- Refuses to openly admit it but had a serious celebrity crush on Nikola Tesla & later Carl Sagan. Tried to emulate them as much as humanly possible while a teenager/young adult. Still admires them deeply.

- Had a friendly competition w/ Fiddleford in college over who could perform better academically in their shared classes. Ford typically studied harder yet consistently performed marginally worse than Fiddleford in all of their STEM classes as Ford would, on average, score ~95-99%, Fiddleford would somehow get bonus points on virtually every test & average ~105-110%. Ford never fully got over this.

[coffee-master]

IDEAS FOR FICS PART 1 [FIDDLESTAN]

-> #Free ideas to use (to find more similar things for fics)

Fiddlestan idea, where Stanley and Fiddleford work together to fix the and bring Stanford back.

During this time they come closer to each other and while feeling like mess they both help each other fix some things.

They both are basically a walking mess with Trauma.

Stanley helps Fiddleford during his panic attacks and calms him down when needed. Stan gives him attention and always listenes about his problems (the divorce and difficul situation with his son. Stanley also helps Fids with quiting his addiction (the memorygun).

Fiddleford made Stan aware that he isn't a worse copy of Stanford. He tells him that he is loved and once Stan opens up to him. Fidds explains how fucked up Stan's whole situation was. Moreover he shows affection to such a touch-starved person that Stanley was at that moment.

Stan and Fiddleford get closer to each other during their bonding time, until they fall for each other and form a relationship.

[They smoke together, go out and Fidds even started teaching Stan playing banjo (with difficulties but still)]

For years they try to open the portal once again, but without the other journals this seems almost impossible. [Just a reminder that the whole portal thing was Bill's idea and he gave Stanford the project. In conclution very HARD TO DO]

And then years later Dipper and Mabel show up..!

Fiddleford and Stanley are in relationship for 30 years. They basically are the "old married couple" But historians will say that they are just 'roommates'.

Mabel basically can smell the romance from distance, while Dipper is ignorant/unaware until someone pointed out this to him.

Stanley & Fidds even have matching earings!

[Also Fidds likes to call Stan Darlin', Hun and Stan calls Fidds Cowboy eventually That's My Cowboy! When noone is around]

Fidds never went crazy or anything. He even repaired his relationship with son! Yes, he might have still got some brain damage from using the gun in the past. (So from time to time he can be forgetfull) But he is better now!

When Stanford comes back there is also a lot of mess. Ford punches Stan and Fidds is right behind him to help him. Stanford is mostly confused by everything that at first he doesn't even notice that Fiddleford and Stanley are in a relationship.(He's just as blind as Dipper)

There is some arguing and Fiddleford is pretty much pissed at Ford for being ungratefull.

Once he overheard Stanford "talk" to Stan that "at the end of this summer you give me back my identyti, my house and this all mystery shack is over"

And he confronted Ford immediately yelling at him that "the world doesn't go around him" And he had no idea how much sacrificed for him and how both of them suffered. (After that 'conversation' I think that Ford finally sensed that something was going on between Fidd and Stanley]

Shortly after Fidd "talked" with Ford, he immiediately went to Stanley, assuring him that everything is gonna be alright and they are both in this together. That he is NOT alone.

[I feel like everyone saw at least once that time of fiddlestan au in art or something BUT-]

LET'S FINALLY GET TO THE MAIN POINT!!!

In this au everything goes similar to the canon, so Weirdmagedon still happened. Everything happened in a similar way and in the end Stanley saved the town. (Pls no jokes)

Ford had to erase his memories, with the memory gun. The weapon that Fiddleford once created and almost ruined his life. And now it erased the mind of the man he loved.

Fidds after realised what happened he was devastated.

He was furious at Ford's action, even though it was the only way to save everyone.

He was heartbroken seeing the man he loves not recognising him. As if there was noone on the other side.

The guilt was eating him alive, knowing well that HE created the gun that took away his love of life.

And after learning that it was Stanley's plan to use the memory gun on himself and not Ford's.. Fiddleford was basically tearing up.

Seeing Stan's lack of reaction after waking up and seeing his 'loved ones' and not recognising them was heart-breaking. Stanley didn't seem to remember neither his nephews nor brother or even him.

When Stan looks at him. There is nothing.

It hurts to look at the man you love. You can't help, but see that he doesn't see you the same way or even recognise you. That there is nothing beside the lost gaze and lack of connection. No smiles, no love. Just confusion.

And even though the Stanley he once know was 'erased', Fiddleford takes a deep breath and with clear sadness in voice says:

"He was there for me when my mind was falling apart and now I'm gonna take care of him." And then hugs gently confused Stan.

I belive that it would take more time for them to bring Stan's memories back. (But that's up to you how you want it)

I imagine that there would be a lot more trouble with gaining back memory for Stan. Like maybe very slowly.

Their first attempts would be unsuccessfully. No improvement. Staley doesn't remmeber anything about his live. Fotos are blank for him. He even misstooks his photo with children, thinking that on the picture is Ford and not him.

"I'm sorry, I- I really don't remmeber any of this.." Stanley said, while holding the photo album.

Everyone would be devastated. Soos, Ford, twins and Fiddleford.

But suprisingly, Fiddleford would be the one who would 'seem' to be the calmest of all of them at least on the surface. He spends a lot of time with Stanley, not necessary trying to restor Stan's memory, but geniuently spend some pleasant time together.

But deeply inside Fidds is actually really strugling. Just instead of thinking about the pain, he tries to focus on helping Stanley. He had a first hand experience with memory issues and he doesn't want Stan to suffer the same.

He also tries make Stanley feel as comfortable as possible in the New situation, while trying to bond.

They drink coffee, they watch tv, they talk. Maybe not necessary about his past.. (Stanley feels pressured, every time someone tries to recall his memories without any results) So with Fidds, he feels more relaxed.

Stanley generally feels around Fiddleford most comfortable. (He doesn't feel any obligation) And he genuelly likes him and EVEN MORE he starts to like him to the point that he's questioning himself.

Stanley: I think, I might have a crush on Fidds..?

Mabel geniuently touched that even after loosing memories the true love still remained around around them, but also jealous due to the fact that he still doesn't recall her : ...

Mabel: He's literally your husband.

Stanley: He is?? I mean- But I don't even know him..?

[Sometimes someone needs to remind Stanley that he's married to Fidds. He forgets it often, since it sounds so unrealistic for him]

Also, when Stan starts 'crushing' on Fidds, Fiddleford is very aware of it.

He immiediately catches up on simple signals like

- Random nervousness

- Playing with hands

- Unnecesarry jokes at wrong time

Just the same behaviour as from 30 years ago, when Stanley started catching feelings for him. [It makes him happy to see this once again]

Fiddleford pretends that he doesn't know. He doesn't want Stan to freak out or something.

And it goes like this..

They spend some time. Twins still try to regain Stan's memory in any way possible. Ford feels helpless. And during this time they are rebuiling the mystery shack.. (because they need a place to sleep, am I right?)

Until one day..

Fiddleford was sitting outside, taking a break from repairing the shack. All of this still seamed unrealistic for him.

He was alone.

He needed to be alone.

He felt as everything was falling apart with him all together.. He just needed some time alone. If he was about to have a breakdown, he didn't want to anyone see it.

Not Ford, not kids and especially not Stanley.

He just needed to f̸̯̞̤̻̬̯̣͙͉̿̑̾͌ͅo̶̧̅r̵̫̹̟̱̖̺̝̐̾͌̄͋̈́͜͠ḡ̴̹̰̘̫͍͇̜͜ę̵̞̯̗̺̗͙̈́͑̀̓̓̆͠t̸̡̛̞̭̪͖̬̱̮͋́̋͝ chill a little-

Then as the man sighed, he saw in the corner of his eye his lying banjo. He hadn't played in a while.. It was his firt though.

So without overthinking, the man took his instrument and started playing some random nutes. After all music always calmed him down a little.

Before he could even notice, nutes turned into melody, into songs he once used to play often during this summer and not only..

It was like this until a familiar face arrived.

"Huh, I like this melody." Stanley said with a small smile, looking directly at his instrument.

Fiddleford looked at his partner, slightly confused and shocked by his arrival. Something made him stop playing, as he realised that what he was playing they both used to love.

They used to play it regulary.

So there was no suprise, that Fiddleford hoped that maybe just maybe would be some kind of recognision. Unfortunately as soon as he met Stan's clueless eyes, he knew the answer.

"Really?" But instead of shoving his dissapointment, Fidds just asked him kindly.

"It's nice." He said as he sat next to the man with a banjo. "Keep going." Stanley encouraged him and how was he supposed to say no?

So he played. Just to see more smile on his face. Just to act as if this was normal. As they used to do.

After a while he noticed, how the other man started staring at his instrument. Fidds saw the curiousity in his eyes, and how paid attention to his movement.

Then he paused to Stans shock.

"Wanna try?" He offered with a gentel smile.

"Try?" Stan sounded suprised. "Nah, I'm gonna break this little thing." He said unsurely. "These hands are pretty clumsy recently." He joked.

"Break it? Such nonsense." Fidd chuckled with a smile and placed the banjo in Stanleys hands. "The least could happen is for one of the string to break. Don't worry."

Despite his first protest in the end Stan looked at the instrument and took it in his hands gently.

Then the man ran his hand over the instrument and all the strings rang.

"Nice." He commented. "How do you start?" Stanley asked and it took Ford a second to realise what he was asking for.

"You start with this one." He answered shortly, pointing at one of the strings. "You know.. you won't be able to play the same song at first try, it takes-"

Fiddleford was interrupted, as Stan started playing. To his suprise it wasn't any kind of weird noises by pulling random strings. No, nothing like that.

It didn't even seem as his first try, when they were young and Fiddleford started teaching Stan playing on banjo.

It was the same melody he played just a second ago.

And it wasn't just a mare try.

He did it perfectly. Just as if he knew this song.

As if he knew how to play it.

As if he remembered it.

And it didn't seem as if he was putting in this any kind of effort.

Stanley just played.

And he seemed so happy and relaxed, until he finished and the realisation hit him hard.

"How.. how did you do this?" Fidds asked first.

"I.." Stan started just as confused as he was. "I don't know." He admited trufully. "My hands were just moving on its own." He tried to explain, but seemed just as lost as him. "I didn't- I didn't think what I was doing. It just happened." He finished, looking directly at Fiddleford very confused, as if looking for the answer.

Fidds confused as him, tried not to give himself unrealistic hopes.

When it came to Amnesia it rarely affected motor skills, according to the researches. Just like walking or ridding a bike. So that would explain this 'phenomen'.

He did it instinctively.

"I teached you this one." In the end Fidds decided to be trufully. "We played it lots of times, until you didn't need the sheet music."

"Oh." Stanley said clearly dissapointment.

For a moment Fiddleford was afraid, that mentioning the past would made Stan uncomfortable, or make silent.

But fortunatelly Stanley fast showed that it didn't bothered him this time.

"Was I a good student?" Stan asked instead with a smirk. "Seems pretty easy for me." Then he added with cockyness, which made Fidds only chuckle.

"The worst one." He couldn't help himself, but taste his patience a little.

"Watch it Cowboy." The man said with smirk, so full of himself as he played a few random, but melodic notes on banjo.

And just then-

"Wait- What did you just call me?" Fiddleford asked rapidly, hoping that he didn't overheard wrong.

Stan looked at him again, taking a pause, as if trying to recall what he said.

"A Cowboy." He said slowly, realising he didn't know why he choosed this kind of words.

"Stanley, I've never mentioned that I am a Cowboy, nor that I'm a fan of them.." Fidds said immiediately and once he saw the expression on his partner's face , he knew. "Stanley." He said so hopefully and full of love. "You.."

He wanted to say You remember

He wanted to reach him..

"I-" The man in fornt of him sounded so confused, but also so hopefull at the same time.

But then rapidly grabbed his head, with a hiss.

"I- think I'm gonna have a headache-" He added painfully.

At once Fiddleford moved to him, taking him gently by his back.

"Shh.. Take it slowly, dear." Fidds said gently to calm him down.

Even though inside he bursting with excitement Stan's healt was his piority number one.

And then Stanley started regaining his memories back!!!! :D

This idea is free to use. If you want you can write a fic about it or just do anything.

Hopefully you enjoyed this idea!!!

[More Fiddlestan ideas]: Part 2(in progress)

[MasterPost]

[misteria247]

So like Ford as a character to me as least, makes me feel hella mixed. Cuz like on one hand he's kinda of a jerk, is really rude and cruel to his little brother after the accident, and he sometimes completely disregards people's feelings cuz he's caught up in his own issues. And it frustrates me so much cuz like I completely understand where Stan comes from by doing your best only to pushed away. But on the other hand I also completely get and understand Ford.

He's the oldest out of them, there's unspoken pressure there from his parents and the adults around him. He's been bullied for his extra fingers and intelligence and the only friend he has besides Fiddleford later in life is his brother Stan. All Ford's life he's been out of place and then he finally gets a chance to make a space for himself, to distance himself from all this insanity. Only for it to be pulled out from under him. Like that's frustrating and devastating, especially when you've finally got some positive reception and attention because of it. It makes sense that he lashes out and when you're hurt, you do things you normally wouldn't do. Especially in a household where you've got Fillbrick as a dad, you're also bound to start believing things that you're told, especially when you want your parents approval.

And add in the toxic relationship with Bill who keeps reaffirming everything Ford's been told about Stan and helping him hold onto the grudge to a point where Ford unknowingly cut off all contact with people who actually love him and it all really makes sense in the long run.

Like what Ford did wasn't right, but Stan not telling Ford about his project also wasn't right. But as an eldest child myself I completely get Ford's reaction and his take on the situation while also feeling for Stan's own reaction on everything cuz I get that attachment and importance of family all too well. It's because of this stuff that makes both Ford and Stan's character growth so much more satisfying because they've learned to let go and heal with each other rather than tear one another down.

Idk man I love Ford but like I also want to affectionately noggie him till he begs for mercy does that make sense-?

[fairy-princette]

i gave your name as my emergency phone call

AO3 link | 1 2 3 4 5 (you are here) 6

Stan receives a postcard from his twin brother - who he’s not seen in a decade - asking for his help. But like with everything else in his life, he runs into some trouble on his way there

5. loosen my cuffs

Stanley groaned at the pain in his arm, pushing himself up in the snow with his good arm. A shadow fell over him and he looked up to see Henry bracing its legs and bowing its head as it prepared to run him through.

“Stop!”

A small dot of white light appeared on the stag’s head. Stan was frozen but from the corner of his eye he could see his brother standing, brandishing what appeared to be a plastic gun, aimed directly at Henry’s head.

Ford walked in a slow semi-circle until he was between Stan and the deer, never taking his eyes off it.

“We’ve talked about this before Henry; even if you have claimed this part of the forest you can’t be expecting strangers to follow arbitrary rules you’ve never told them, and you certainly can not try to kill them when they fail to do so.” Ford adjusted his grip on the strange gun. “Now, from where I’m standing we’re outside of your territory and any claim you have, so if you don’t leave us be right now you will sorely regret it.”

Stan flicked his eyes between them as they stared each other down until the deer tilted its head towards Ford and let out a low huff, retreating back into the trees and galloping away. As soon as it was out of sight Ford spun around to crouch in the snow in front of Stan.

“Are you okay? Where are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, it’s just my shoulder.” Stan let out another groan as he pulled himself into a seated position, leaning back against the tree. He gingerly poked at his left shoulder and let out a sharp hiss. “Yep, definitely dislocated. Gimme your shoulder a second.” Ford leaned forward curiously as Stan braced his hand against the other’s shoulder. With a sharp jerk he threw his body to the side, popping his arm back in the socket with another loud crunch.

“Sweet Moses Stanley! You didn’t need to do that - we could have gone to the hospital!”

“I’ve done this before, it’ll be fine. Besides, no insurance.” Stan climbed to his feet, careful to favour his left arm, and brushed the snow off him. Ford stood up next to him and began leading them back to the cabin.

“If you’re sure,” he said, giving Stan a concerned once over.

“Very. It’s not like this is worse than having all your fingers broken.” At Ford’s shocked look he quickly began to backpedal. “Not that getting your fingers broken is that bad! Especially when compared to being stabbed in the gut!” Ford looked even more panicked. “I mean, not that either of those have happened to me! Actually, what I’m more interested in is knowing when you started carrying around a gun?” Stan looked down at the weapon, which Ford had casually shoved in a pocket, unsubtly changing the subject.

Ford gave him one last concerned look. “I haven’t - it’s a LIDAR scanner I was using the other day. It shoots beams of light at objects and measures the time taken for it to be reflected back, which is then used to calculate their distance from your location.”

Stan blinked for a moment. “Say that again, but pretend you’re talking to someone who’s not finished high school.”

“It’s a fancy measuring tape. Look,” Ford held up the not-gun to show a small screen on the side, “Henry was stood two metres from us.” Ford paused for moment, realising his mistake. “That’s roughly six point five feet.”

Stan blinked again. “You threatened off a mutant deer that was about to rip us a part with a measuring tape?”

“I might not be as good at it as you are Ma, but you’re not the only people in this family that can lie, Stanley.”

———

Ford slumped down at the kitchen table between Stan and Fiddleford. The former had his arm in a makeshift sling made from a spare scarf and a snow-filled plastic bag encompassed by a tea towel pressed into his shoulder, while the latter was surrounded by freshly-annotated blueprints and calculations. The engineer had made a solid start in working on how to deconstruct the portal, but they were no closer to permanently hiding the schematics from Bill or freeing Ford from his control; as long as Bill had access to his mind he would be able to find his memories of the contents of the journal and use his body to re-build it.

“Okay, so,” Stanley groaned slightly as he repositioned himself at the table, “From where I’m sitting our biggest problem is Bill getting in your head, right?” Ford nodded mutely. “And he can do that ‘cause of your deal - so what exactly was it you agreed to?”

“I gave him free access to my mind while I am not conscious, and in return he would give me knowledge and assist in my research.”

“And is he?”

“Not since I decided to destroy the portal, no.”

“I don’t see why you can’t just tell him to fuck off then.”“Stanley, he’s an inter dimensional being of unlimited power, I can’t just tell him to fuck off.”

Stan crossed his arms petulantly. “Don’t see why not - he’s broken his end of the deal, why should you uphold your’s.”

“Well because- because he-” Ford stopped, furrowing his brow in thought.

Next to him the scratching of Fiddleford’s pen stopped. Ford glanced up to see him chewing on the end it. “Y’know Ford, I can’t rightly think of a reason why that shouldn’t work. If you have a contract with someone and they’re not upholding their end of the agreement, you’re no longer beholden to it. We just need to find a solid enough lock to stop him breaking in again” He pointed to Stan with his pen “That’s some good lateral thinking - same as with what you were saying about the journal pages in the truck.”

Stan looked at Fiddleford perplexed. “What did I say about the journals?”Fiddleford had gone back to his calculations “When you were falling asleep, about just ripping out the pages on the portal.”

Ford stopped, staring unblinking at Fiddleford. “You had a solution for dealing with the journals this entire time? Fiddleford! We’ve been discussing this for hours, what reason could you possibly have for not telling us?”

The other man shrugged, defensive. “Sorry Ford, I guess I forgot. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but there’s a lot going on right now.”“‘There’s a lot-’, okay, fine,” Ford took a slow breath, trying to reign back in his temper. “What was Stan’s idea?”

“That if you wanted to keep the journals you could just rip out the pages with information on the portal and destroy those, and retain the rest of your research. It’s a good idea, I don’t know why we didn’t think of it.”

Ford turned to face his twin, who had gone slightly pink from the praise. “That is a good idea Stan.” He pulled journal one out of his pocket, leafing through until he reached the section on the construction of the portal and unceremoniously ripped them from the book, ensuring no stray words were left behind. “Here,” he proffered them to his brother, “The gas is still hooked up to the stove, if you would do the honours of burning the first pages.”

He watched as Stan took them and watched as they caught on the burner, the yellow flames eating up the information. He felt relief flood through him; that the work was one step further from Bill’s hands, and that he wouldn’t need to destroy the entirety of his life’s work. His life’s work so far.

———

It was late in the evening, after the three of them had spent the day searching for the journals, eventually finding one buried in the woods and the other by the elementary school. Each had taken turns burning the relevant pages, and Fiddleford now found himself bundled up with a hot cup of coffee, sat on a rickety chair on the porch. He had been trying to stay out the way of the Pines twins, giving the two the space they definitely needed to clear the air after not speaking in so long. While there was still a certain awkwardness hanging between them they also hadn’t had another screaming match, which he was taking as a win.

His fingers comfortably warmed from his hot drink he placed the mug on the ground, swapping it for his banjo and began plucking out a song. Halfway through his third tune there was a creak as the door next to him swung open to reveal Ford, wrapped up in all his layers.

“Hey F, mind some company? Stanley’s stress-cleaning again and I think it would be safer if I was out of his way.”“‘Course, pull up a chair.”

Fiddleford continued quietly plucking at the strings.

“This doesn’t mean I’m not still mad at you, you know.”

“Okay.”

“You disregarded my safety, and worse than that, you ignored my scientific opinion. It’s going to take a long time to rebuild that trust.” Fiddleford sighed and put down the banjo, begrudgingly looking up at Ford for the first time since he came out, “But I do still want to be your friend.”

“Really? Oh. Good. That’s good, I would also still like to be your friend.” Ford paused, tapping his fingers together, and Fiddleford picked up his mug, giving him a moment to collect his thoughts. “I know I have a lot of work to do to earn your forgiveness, but I am sorry, for how everything happened. I got so caught up in the idea of what I could have; the discoveries, the acclaim, the notoriety, that I lost track of the important things that I already have, and you’re one of those important things.”

Fiddleford reached over and gave his knee a squeeze. “Thank you.”

He picked the banjo back up, picking out a new song as the two sat on the porch, flakes of snow falling around them. There was a thump inside as another piece of debris met Stan’s cleaning wrath.

“I was thinking,” he said as he continued playing, “we’ve been trying to think of a way to lock Bill out of your mind, but what if we don’t need a lock? What if we just need to hide it? I’ve been doing research into cognitive function and neural networks, and I reckon we could make a machine to encode your brainwaves so Bill’s no longer able to find you.”

“You really think that could work?”

“I think it’s the best shot we’ve got right now - it might not be a permanent solution but it should at least buy us a few months. Maybe longer - while the rest of the cells in our body regenerate, our brains aren’t capable of the same level of healing. There’s even a possibility it could work permanently. Now I’ve still got the blueprints for the, uh, for the memory gun,” Fiddleford was suddenly very interested in inspecting the wood grain of the wall, “which could be a good jumping off point for the design. We have a different end-goal, but the basic principles and theory behind them is consistent.”

“Well come on,” Fiddleford felt himself get wrenched to his feet, “What’re we waiting for, let’s gather our supplies.”

———

The three spent the next few days running through the house, gathering various gadgets and macguffins from throughout the house to build Fiddleford’s new brain gizmo - sorry, the ‘Cerebrum Scrambler 3000’ (there had not been any previous versions but Stan had insisted on the number. If you were going to have a base like an evil scientist you needed to name your inventions like an evil scientist). The paraphernalia included, but was not limited to, four computer screens, a typewriter, the light from the fridge, an old colander, and a pile of towels. They were currently holed up in Ford’s office - apparently the basement had more space but Fiddleford point blank refused to go down there - and Stan was stood in the corner of the room, carefully avoiding touching any experiments or making any sudden movements. The last time Stan had quickly stuck his head in the engineer had been wearing a welding mask and wielding a blow torch, and while Stan wasn’t a fan of his mullet he was attached to his eyebrows and wasn’t looking to get them fried off his face (again).

This routine continued for three days as the machine slowly grew. What had started out as a pile of junk turned into, well, a pile of junk but with cables and electricity and weird little glowy bits. At least the sparks were gone now. As it began to reach completion the atmosphere grew tense and excited; they were close to being able to free Ford, but the closer they got the more agitated Bill grew each night. He had yet to escape the restraints while Ford slept, but the previous night Stan and Fiddleford had had to find a way to jam his mouth open as he tried to chew off his own tongue.

The office desks were now taken up by a wall of monitors, with ones and zeroes running across the screen, all plugged into an extension cord that looked like an arson attempt waiting to happen. Cables led from the screens to a stack of computers on the floor, to a modem, to the old colander which now had a chin strap and was sitting on the desk chair in the centre of the room surrounded by towels. Stan hadn’t asked what the towels were for and he hoped he didn’t have to find out.

The blueprints were taped to the wall, Fiddleford’s and Ford’s handwriting cover the edges of the paper as edits and adjustments were made to the design. Fiddleford was stood with a clip board, double-checking his notes and the schematics with the physical machine in front of them.

“I think we’re ready for a trial run.”

“Alright then,” Ford clapped his hands together and reached for the colander-helmet.

“Sixer!” Stan slaps his hand away from the colander. “You are not testing a brain-scrambling machine on yourself. What if it melts your brain and you can only speak in limericks afterward? Honestly,” he rolls his eyes turning to Fiddleford, “Like I said, dumbest genius.”

“Heh, yeah, who would use an untested machine on their own brain? Now Ford, I am completely confident in my design, but there’s no harm in a non-human test.”

“I don’t think that colander’ll fit on a rats head."“No,” Ford looked at the machine thoughtfully, “but it might fit a gnome. We would need to capture one though - while they are easy to locate, especially as they keep trying to get into the garbage, they are slippery little things and can put up a good fight.”“Aren’t gnomes like,” Stan lifted up his hand, his thumb and forefinger a couple inches apart.

“First they’re more like,” Fiddleford lifted his hands, about a foot apart, “And they’ve teeth! Those assholes are not afraid to fight dirty!”

“Sorry Fids, but you’re not the first person I’d go to for fighting advice. You said you’re strong but that’s not really the same as street-smarts.”“I don’t see why I should need to learn to fight when I can just build a killer robot to do it for me,” the engineer groused.

“Gentlemen, if we could get back to the matter at hand? The faster we acquire a gnome, the faster we can protect ourselves from Bill. Stanley, as you just pointed out, you are the best here at fighting, I trust capturing a gnome is within your wheelhouse?”

———

Five hours later, multiple bite wounds and one test run later, a dazed gnome was safely returned to the forest. The three watched as it wandered haphazardly towards the tree line, stumbling over stray twigs and pitching into a bush on the way.

“A little disorientated, but otherwise I would say that was a resounding success!” There was a dull thunk as the gnome walked into a tree. “Let’s continue on to the human testing phase.” Ford paused for a moment. “And maybe get Stanley a tetanus shot.”

———

Fiddleford scanned over the lines of bright green C++ that filled the screen, double checking the program while Ford secured the helmet on his head. Stanley was stood in the corner brandishing a fire extinguisher, three of his fingers covered in bright blue plasters that had previously been bought for Tate. He gave a decisive nod to himself as he checked the last line of code and moved on to checking the hardware connections with his voltage tester. Finally satisfied with his work he spun his chair to face Ford, who was looking at him determinedly as he sat on a spare kitchen chair with a colander strapped to his head, surrounded by bath towels.

“It’s ready. Ford; the plan, one more time.”

“We turn on the Cerebrum Scrambler and-”

“The Cerebrum Scrambler 3000.”

“Quite. We turn on the Cerebrum Scrambler 3000,” he gave Fiddleford a look. “It will bio-electrically encrypt my mind by reconfiguring the baseline connections of my neural pathways, leaving them functionally as they are but altering them at a cellular level, blocking Bill’s access to my mind. Before the encryption completes I will recite the reversed summoning ritual to banish him for good, hopefully leaving me free from his possession.”

“Sounds about right to me. And Stanley, if it’s all going to hell in a hand-basket?”

“If the machine catches fire, use the extinguisher. If he gets possessed again, use the extinguisher. If it start frying his brain, pull it off him. And maybe use the extinguisher.”

“Alright, time to fish or cut bait.”

He spun back round to face the machine, flicking the switches above the screen and slowly adjusting the dials. The coding filling the screens quickly changed to binary code before Fiddleford pressed the last button and the screens filled with Ford’s scanned thoughts.

Destroytheportal-Destroytheplans-EscapeBill-DestroyBill-Canhebedestroyed-He’sgoingtostealmyeyes-Arethejournalsreallysalvageable-He’salreadybeenhurttwice-He’sbeenstabbedandhadhisfingersbroken-Havetomakeituptohim-Needhimtoknowhecantrustme-HavetomakeituptoFiddlefordtoo-Stopthinking-Stopthinking-Stopthinking-3.14159265358979323846264338

The sound was abruptly cut off as Stan wrenched the cable out of the speaker.

“Let’s, uh, just pretend we didn’t hear any of that, yeah?”

“Yes, thank you Stanley,” Ford nodded his head as much as he was able without dislodging the headpiece. Out of the corner of his eye Fiddleford saw the screen fill with new text.

Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou

Fiddleford turned his back to the screens, grabbed a pen torch out of his pocket and rolled his chair over to Ford to perform a basic neural exam. He flashed the light into his eyes before having Ford follow his finger, checking his pupil dilation and eye tracking, and then gave him a short term memory test and took his pulse. He rolled back over to the desk to compare them to the results from that morning and Stan leaned over his shoulder.

“All looking good?”

“Yes, there does’t seem to be any negative side-effects so far. How’re you feeling Ford?” He called over, not looking away from the screen of data.

“Just peachy! Y’know the thoughts of the gnome were much less coherent than mine just now. Given their sentience you would expect similar results. D’you think I could get my journal? I’d love to take some notes on it.”

“Ford, you know they’re staying hidden until we’re sure you’re safe from-”

The text on the monitor next to him was flickering between the Roman alphabet and coloured squares.

Helpmehe🟨🟪⬜️ehelpme🟩🟨lpmehelp🟦🟦helpmehelpmehelpmehelpme

“-Bill.”

A pair of yellow eyes was reflected in the screen from across the room.

———

Stanley looked up from the screen of incomprehensible numbers to see Bill stood in the centre of the room, wearing Ford’s skin.

“Offbrand Sixer! Now I’ve finally got my hands free we’re going to have so much more fun!”

“Oh, hell no.”

Stan hefted the fire extinguisher to his side and swung it in an arc at Ford’s head. The metal made contact with the colander with a loud thunk and Bill crumpled to the floor.

“Oh my goodness!” Fiddleford quickly ran over and crouched over Ford, checking his pupils and for a pulse. After a moment he let out a sigh of relief before glaring accusingly up at Stan. “You could’a damn well killed him, Stanley!”

“He’s fine! Maybe a little bit concussed, but he’ll live. You really think I’ve never knocked someone out with an extinguisher before?”

“Everything you say about your life is deeply concerning. Now help me get him off this here floor. And grab some tape.”

Stan grabbed the other side of Ford’s limp body and hoisted him back into the chair, holding him steady while Fiddleford attached him to it with gaffer tape, a single phrase now filling the computer screen.

Honkshhhonkshhhonkshhhonkshhhonkshhhonkshhhonkshhhonkshhhonkshh

“Good news is your weird machine works on unconscious folks too.”Fiddleford leant down to scan the data being generated on one of the many screens. “That’s one bonus, I suppose.”

Stan leant back against the wall, keeping an eye of Ford’s body while the engineer watched the machine.

“Stanley?”

“Yeah?”

“You were real quick to hit him with the extinguisher.”“There gonna be a question in there, Fids?”

“Not really, guess I just thought you might hesitate before belting your brother.”

“I mean we’ve talked stuff out but I guess I’ve still got some negative feelings there, y’know in my subconch-shell.”

“Subconscious?”

He clicked his fingers towards Fiddleford. “That’s the one. Hell, this is probably therapeutic or some shit. Oh!” Stan quickly touched his finger to his nose. “Dibs if he doesn’t wake up to do his weird spell I get to chuck a bucket of water over him!”

[comically-blu]

Oh the mismatched friendship between Fiddleford & Ford

!! Long analysis incoming !!

Starting off: Ford spoke of himself being in isolation since he moved to Gravity Falls.

Maybe a little that Ford knew that Fiddleford settled down with a family and “wasting away his talent, trying to make personal computers in Palo Alto”? Most likely they didn’t keep on calling much, considering the monetary limits (ex. the AT&T monopoly in the 70s and the 11 hour distance between CA vs. Oregon.)

Still doesn’t change one thing: Had Ford and Fiddleford ever kept in contact since they graduated?

Then, there was their chat regarding their futures during day one of the expedition to Crash Site Omega. This shown how similar yet different their wants were:

Fiddleford dreams to be an inventor whose inventions improve others’ lives, but he also wanted enough to afford a nice place.

Ford expresses that he dreams to have a bigger name that leads him to the same level with big names, politicians, the president. To prove himself to his family and those who wronged him.

One wants to have a simple life while the other wanted to be more.

Right away when they started, Ford noticed the difference in their mental capabilities. Ford knew himself to be courageous enough to handle anomalies while he noted that Fiddleford is sensitively prone to anxiety twice.

It’s a wonder why Fiddleford held Ford as a first option. He thinks of his family, he keeps a photo of his wife and son just so he thinks of them to keep himself grounded. He travels back to see them but he forgets to buy his wife a present. Instead, he makes Ford multiple gifts.

Ford definitely means a lot to him. He was the guy who didn’t hesitate to become his roommate and believed in his theory that was laughed at by others, on one bad first day of college. It was the first day Fiddleford traveled far outside of his home.

Ford has kept himself busy to get up ahead; working hard to finish his degree within 3 years early, submitting an essay to receive his grant to work on his own research in GF.

Maybe Fiddleford simply wanted his only friend, whom he hadn’t seen for years, to stay as his friend. He missed him a lot that he was willing to sacrifice everything, even his mind and his family, to catch up with him. To get rid of his own anxiety and trauma from an anomaly, even though Ford didn’t want him to. Addiction metaphor to still applies

In the end, everything they did work for the portal wasn’t all worth it.

[squatch-and-stretch]

Introduced Species

Stanford Pines & Fiddleford McGucket | 1,645 words | Axolotl’s Acolyte AU

Fiddleford is briefly lost through the portal, but something else returns with him.

Fic under the cut.

Fiddleford went through the portal. Ford is not entirely sure how long ago that happened, but the subsequent events are as follows;

Ford pulls the dummy back. It remains as a dummy, entirely unaltered by its trip. This is encouraging, though it would be more encouraging if Fiddleford was attached to the line as well.

Ford anchors the rope around his waist to a section of scaffolding, and attempts to follow Fiddleford through. The portal shuts down before he can.

Ford jostles the lever to activate the portal, and presses every other button and switch that could bring it back to life. None of them manage to do so.

Ford screams, punches the steel frame of the portal, and then kicks it for good measure. This does nothing but hurt his throat, hand, and foot.

Ford attempts to reassure himself. He doesn’t know much about what’s on the other side of the portal— Bill was actually quite cagey about that, but then again Ford never really pried— but it didn’t damage the dummy, and Bill has access to that space. Bill might not be Fiddleford’s biggest fan, but he would never hurt him, at least not on purpose, or too badly. Surely, Bill would find Fiddleford, and keep him safe until Ford diagnoses the cause of the premature shut-down and rectifies it, allowing him to bring Fiddleford back.

Ford, hand and foot throbbing, throat aching, begins to retreat towards his sanctum, intending to contact Bill before he starts his repairs.

That’s when the portal reopens of its own volition.

Or, no, that isn’t quite what happens. The portal itself doesn’t power on, but a vortex— swirling pink and sparkling like the night sky— opens in the center. Ford turns to look at it in awe, absently scrambling for his journal before he remembers that it’s safely on the other side of the observation window. He's not willing to look away from the vortex for long enough to retrieve it, especially not when something steps out of it.

It’s tall, humanoid in shape, and wearing a long coat. Washed out by pink light, Ford doesn’t recognize it as Fiddleford until he fully steps free of it, and the vortex closes behind him.

Fiddleford takes a few careful steps, as if gravity is a very new sensation to him. His eyes remained trained on the ground, carefully watching his feet. He’s missing one of his shoes. It’s laying on the floor, actually, on the wrong side of the safety line.

“Fiddleford!” Ford cries as the initial shock wears off, and Fiddleford jolts. The confusion on his features falls away, and his face lights up with a warm, serene smile.

“What happened to you?” Ford continues, closing the distance between them in a few desperate, stumbling steps. “What did you see?”

“I see you,” Fiddleford purrs, and there’s something strange to his voice, accent smoothed away and voice echoing like it was far louder than it actually was. “Oh, look at you!”

He steps towards Ford with a strange gait, like he’s still getting used to having legs. Once they’re nearly chest to chest, he reaches out to cradle Ford’s face in his hands. Surprised as he is, Ford doesn’t even try to move away. His hands are cold and clammy.

He meets Ford’s eyes and smiles fondly. He’s used to that expression from Fiddleford, but something about it is wrong. Ford has never been good at predicting people’s emotions, but even he can tell that this is not how Fiddleford should be reacting to what just happened to him. Maybe excitement could be expected after such an experience, but it’s not what he’d expect from Fiddleford, as prone to anxiety as he tends to be. And besides, this is not excitement, it’s something far more serene. Serenity is not a common emotion in Fiddleford, especially not as of late.

Puzzled as he is by the emotion, it takes Ford far too long to notice the physical changes.

His hair is longer now, maybe even longer than it was in college, and it floats loosely around his head as if he’s underwater. The grey streak of hair around his temple has turned pink, as have the irises around his blown-out pupils.

Ford realizes with sudden and chilling clarity that he may not have gotten his friend back at all.

“Who—“ Ford swallows, unable to tear his gaze away. “What are you?”

Fiddleford just smiles. It’s nothing like the grin Bill has been known to pull Ford’s own mouth into.

“What have you done to Fiddleford!?” he shouts, gripping the wrists of his friend, of what used to be his friend. Is he still in there somewhere? Is there some way to get him back?

The serene smile falls away, and Fiddleford’s brows furrow slightly.

“What have I done?” the entity asks, sounding genuinely troubled by the question, or perhaps just confused. “I have saved him. I am the only reason he is here with you.”

“… what?” Ford says, mind flooding with what could have been. “What do you mean? What would have happened to him?”

The entity smiles sadly with Fiddleford’s chapped lips.

“Oh, you poor thing,” it says, like it’s talking to a particularly pitiful child. “You really have no idea what you are doing, do you?”

Ford suddenly feels particularly pitiful.

“What are you?” he asks again, desperate. He tries to be firm, but his voice shakes around the words.

The entity is quiet for a long moment, before humming to itself.

“I am the Axolotl,” it says. “It’s a pleasure to properly meet you, Stanford Pines.”

Ford shudders at the sound of his full name from Fiddleford’s mouth, in a tone so different from his own.

“… Frilliam?” Ford asks, with no small amount of guilt.

The Axolotl laughs, a soft, pleasant sound entirely unlike Fiddleford’s loud cackles. How long has it been since he heard a genuine laugh from Fiddleford?

“Oh, no, not him,” the Axolotl says fondly, “though I have him to thank for our introduction.”

The Axolotl places a hand on his chest. Ford doesn’t know if ‘our’ refers to his own introduction to the Axolotl, or its introduction to Fiddleford.

“Fiddleford…” he swallows thickly; for one of the first times in his life, he’s afraid to have his question answered. “What happened to Fiddleford?”

“He is right here,” the Axolotl says with the indulgent smile of a teacher answering a stupid question.

“I see that!” Ford snaps, anxiety building into anger. “I see his body, but where is he?”

“He is here,” the Axolotl insists, face falling into a small frown. “He is just… dormant. I am taking care of his body as his mind recovers.”

“What do you mean, ‘recovers’?” Ford asks. He doesn’t like the sound of this thing ‘taking care of Fiddleford’s body’ either, but he has his priorities.

“A human mind, especially one so prone to anxiety, struggles to comprehend what lies beyond the portal in the best of conditions,” the Axolotl explains.

His thumb, on the hand still pressed to his chest, moves back and forth over the fabric of his shirt. Beyond that and a gentle sway, he’s strangely still, a sharp contrast to Fiddleford’s constant movement.

“And his visit was not in the best of conditions,” the Axolotl continues. “The entities that dwell in that realm between realms greeted him with no small amount of aggression. If I had not interfered, there is no doubt that he would have been destroyed, completely and utterly.

“Even I understand how… traumatic that experience would be for a mortal. He is still present within this vessel, but he is resting.”

Ford feels faintly sick. He’s so relieved to hear that Fiddleford is still there, somewhere, but if the Axolotl is to be believed, it was a very near thing.

But that begs the question; is the Axolotl to be believed? Ford was never the best at reading people, and reading people possessed by some unknown interplanar entity proves just as fruitless, if not more so. If it’s lying, it has picked up none of its host’s tells.

Ford struggles to believe it all the same. Surely if there were any threats on the other side of the portal, ones willing and able to destroy a human ‘completely and utterly’, Bill would have mentioned it. As genuine as the Axolotl seems, Ford cannot trust it over his muse.

“You call yourself the Axolotl, but what exactly are you?” Ford asks, watching carefully.

“I suppose I would be best described as a god, though not many who meet me describe me at all,” the Axolotl says.

“A god of rebirth,” Ford recalls. Bill had quickly pulled him away from researching axolotls, but he remembers that.

“Yes,” the Axolotl praises, as though talking to a clever dog. “Death and rebirth, illness and recovery, injury and healing, this is my domain.”

“Then why are you here?” Ford presses, because none of this adds up. “Why did you save Fiddleford?”

The Axolotl tilts his head.

“Have you never caught a fly and released it outside?”

Ford shudders.

“I do not see fit to save every bug that flutters through my domain, but I have some fondness for this one,” the Axolotl raises its hand to Fiddleford’s cheek, cradling his face. “Through Frilliam, he caught my attention, and he has since retained it. He is more important than you realize, Stanford Pines.”

The Axolotl drops his hand and his smile, staring at Ford with sudden intensity. Ford steps away.

“I— of course I realize how important he is!” Ford argues. “He helped me complete my transuniversal vortex! This will fundamentally alter the fate of humanity!”

The Axolotl frowns, like Ford is something to be pitied.

“Yes, there is no doubt about that,” it agrees. “Have you ever considered whether or not it would be for the better?”

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Atychiphobia

Masterlist

Chapter Six:

It doesn’t take long for Grunkle Dipper to get captured and Stan to end up on the run.  After seeing Grunkle Dipper get captured, he starts to make his way back towards the shack, though once the eye bats show up, he kind of doubts he’ll make it there.

He’s right, he doesn’t, but he does run into the next best thing.  Literally.

The second he slams into something Stan puts his hands back, pushing himself up before he can hit the ground behind him.

He hears a terrified familiar scream, though, and looks at what he hit, now sprawled out on the ground covering his head with his hands.

“Fiddleford!” he calls, relief swelling in his chest.

Fiddleford uncovers his head and looks up at him.  “Stanley!  Oh, thank goodness, I thought— what’s happening, have you seen Ford?”

“Yeah,” Stan says, trying to ignore the panic in his chest as he reaches down and pulls Fiddleford up.  “Bill has him.”

Fiddleford’s eyes widen.  “No,” he whispers.

“It’s okay,” Stan says, trying to believe it.  “It’s okay, it’s— I’m gonna find him.  I’m gonna find him and everything’s gonna be fine, we just—”

“Stan,” Fiddleford says, his gaze shifting up to something over Stan’s shoulder.

Stan turns, and finds it not hard to figure out what Fiddleford is looking at.  A giant red X is opening up in the sky, and things that definitely do not look friendly are coming out of it.

Fiddleford grabs Stan’s arm and squeezes it to the point that it hurts, but Stan doesn’t stop him.  “What do we do?” he whispers.

“I— I don’t— um— run,” Stan ends on.  He grabs Fiddleford’s hand and pulls him into the woods, away from the X.  Fiddleford holds on tightly and runs after him, and they both try to put as much distance in between themselves and the X as they can.

As they run, the world around them starts to shift.  Trees start to scream and move.  Animals start breathing fire and spinning until they shoot off into the air like a top.

“Stanley!” Fiddleford screams.

“Don’t think about it, just— just run!” Stan cries back, dodging a squirrel that’s spinning rapidly towards them through the air.  He has no idea if anywhere is going to be safe, but Fiddleford sounds terrified behind him and he has to get away and find Ford somehow, so Stan just tightens his grip on Fiddleford’s hand and keeps running.

Eventually, they come up on the edge of town, which, while there seem to be quite a few more screaming people and destruction, has less fire-breathing cats and screaming trees.

“Stan, let’s stay in the woods,” Fiddleford says, starting to pull him back.

Stan holds firm and turns to face him.  “We can’t climb those trees,” he says.  “I need to get to higher ground to find out where Ford is.”

“But—”

“Fidds, please,” Stan begs.  “I’m scared too, but we have to find him.”

Fiddleford takes an obviously shaky breath, but nods.

Stan turns back around and scans what’s in front of them, and after a moment of debate, decides the best option is probably the mall in the distance.

“Okay, this way,” he says.  He turns back into the forest, and they both run along the edge of it as far as they can.  More and more trees start screaming as they pass, but they only have to dodge two eye bats, and they make it to the back door of the mall.

But as soon as Stan looks inside, he knows this plan won’t work.  There’s people running screaming from eye bags that are turning everyone to stone.  They’re going to have to hide out for a bit.

Before anything can spot them, Stan turns and pulls both of them back into the woods.  He runs forward and waits until the trees are screaming the loudest, then pulls them both under a nearby bush.

“Right here?” Fiddleford says, shoving his hands over his ears.

“It’ll give us more cover,” Stan says.  “Just— just wait.”

Fiddleford nods, and after a second turns and buries his head in Stan’s chest.  Stan holds onto him tightly and tries to manage his own breaths.

They stay there for far too long.

…

Stan gives it as long as he can bear, though he really has no idea how much time has passed.  Fiddleford doesn’t move from his spot tucked up against his side, but eventually he pulls his head up and looks for threats along with Stan.  Thankfully, they’re fairly well hidden, and there aren’t many of them.

Finally, after what feels like days but is probably closer to hours, Stan turns to Fiddleford and nods out at the space around them.  Fiddleford looks obviously terrified, but he nods.

So, carefully, they both make their way back to the mall.  There aren’t as many eye bats to dodge this time, and Stan’s not sure if that’s a good sign or not.

When they reach the mall, it definitely looks more abandoned and destroyed than it did last time, and when Stan looks inside, he doesn’t see anyone.

“Okay,” he whispers to Fiddleford.  “Let’s go.”

They both creep inside, and after a brief search, find the stairs to the roof.

Stan peeks outside the door that leads there first, and when he doesn’t see anything, pushes it open and steps cautiously outside.  He holds up a hand to tell Fiddleford to wait, then peers over the edge of the roof towards the town.

It only takes a moment for him to freeze in horror.

If he hadn’t been absolutely positive that this is still Gravity Falls, he wouldn’t have recognized it.  The buildings are in shambles.  There are monsters running rampant in every direction he looks.  He can’t see any people he recognizes, which doesn’t feel like a good sign.  The water tower is sitting in the middle of the town, with teeth coming out of it.  The sky is bright red, and the giant X hasn’t disappeared.  Now that there aren’t any trees blocking any part of the way, the wind is blowing the smell of something burning and rancid right towards him.

“Stan?  You okay?” comes Fiddleford’s voice, shaking and scared.

“Y-yeah,” Stan manages, and then he clenches his hands into fists and shakes himself.  “It’s okay,” he amends, glancing back at Fiddleford.  “It’s bad, but there’s no one here.  Come on.”  He holds out his hand, willing it not to shake.

Fiddleford still looks terrified, but after a second he reaches for it.  They both walk towards the front of the roof, Stan scanning the sky for any bats to duck down to avoid.

“Do you see anything that looks like a giant evil bubble?” he asks Fiddleford.

“I— I don’t think so,” Fiddleford says.  “I— Stanley—”

“It’s gonna be okay.” Stan squeezes Fiddleford’s hand tightly and tries to will it true.  He’s not sure how it can be, though.  How are they going to find Ford in this mess?

“How are we supposed to find Ford in this?” Fiddleford asks.

“We can do it,” Stan insists, both to himself and Fiddleford.  “We just need—”

Something roars off to the right, and they both turn to see the water tower stand up and start walking, revealing right behind it a gold bubble with a six fingered hand on it, hanging right in the empty space between the cliffs.

“Ford,” Stan whispers.

“Oh no,” Fiddleford says.  “All the way over there?”

“We can do this,” Stan says.  “Nothing in the universe is gonna keep me from my brother, Fidds.  We’ll stay here tonight and get some sleep.  First thing tomorrow, we’re heading for that bubble.”

…

They manage to scrounge up a couple of cloaks to wear as some cover, and every time they’re approached, Stan uses the size-changing flashlight to enlarge whatever piece of rubble is close to them, so that they can hide behind it.  It’s terrifying and dangerous and takes way too long, but they make it to the cliffs.  After a climb up the chain that Stan is pretty sure he’s going to have nightmares about for the rest of his life, they make it to the bubble.

“Well, that’s just beautiful,” Stan mutters, tapping the triangle lock that all of the chains lead to.

“You’re tellin’ me we have to go back out there and find a key in that mess?” Fiddleford asks.

“No, I think I can do this,” Stan says, setting his backpack down at his feet.  “Just give me a second.”

He digs around in the bag for a second and pulls out a paperclip.  He enlarges it just slightly with the flashlight, then heads over to the lock.

He puts his ear up to the lock and sticks the paper clip inside, trying to channel his definitely-still-developing lockpicking skills.  Thankfully, after a bit of time working at it, he hears the lock click, and steps back to watch the chains fall away from the bubble.

He turns with a relieved grin to Fiddleford, who smiles back.

“Okay,” Stan says, turning back towards the bubble.  “Let’s go get Ford.”

“Are you sure about this?” Fiddleford asks nervously.

“Nope.  Let’s go.”  He reaches out and grabs Fiddleford’s hand before he can second guess himself and pulls them both right into the bubble.

He’s not sure what he was expecting, but as soon as the outside world disappears, Stan opens his eyes to find himself in a fancy, science-y lab.

“Careful,” he says quickly, putting his hand out in front of Fiddlford.  “We don’t know what Bill’s game is here.

“It just looks like a lab,” Fiddleford says.  “And— and we can breathe in here.  And nobody’s screaming.”

“Yeah, it looks like all that, but it’s definitely not that,” Stan insists.  “Remember, Bill made this place.  Just— stay close, okay?”

“Yeah,” Fiddleford says.  “Okay.”

That doesn’t really make Stan feel any calmer, but he nods anyway, and starts walking forward, putting himself in front of Fiddleford just to be safe.

He doesn’t see any obvious monsters or threats, though.  He just sees a bunch of very important, old, smart-looking scientists bustling about doing various things.  No sign of Ford either, but he has to be somewhere in here.

Stan casts his gaze around, looking for any kind of tell as to where Ford might be.  He keeps a close eye on all of the scientists, and after a second, realizes they all seem to be heading in the same direction.

He gives Fiddleford’s hand a tug to get his attention and nods towards where all the scientists are heading, which seems to be the center of the room.

A brief moment of nerves flashes over Fiddleford’s face.  Stan squeezes his hand in reassurance, but pulls them both after the scientists without any hesitation.

His instinct pays off, because as they approach the center of the room, he hears a very familiar voice.

“No, no, you see, you forgot to take into account the different gravitational pull in that dimension.  If you add that in here, that makes your math work out.”

“Of course!  I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“Just happy to help.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to—”

“Sixer!” Stan yells, pulling himself and Fiddleford through all of the scientists, who are huddled around the same table.  As soon as they both reach the middle, there’s Ford, sitting in a huge chair that the other scientists are hovering around like hawks.   He’s wearing a lab coat with a name tag that says “Head Scientist.”

Ford looks up, and upon seeing them, a huge grin stretches across his face.  “Stanley!  Fiddleford!  Thank goodness, I was starting to think you’d never get here!”

“Never get here?  Where’s here?” Fiddleford asks, looking around.

“Our laboratory, of course!  I named it ‘Stans and Fords Laboratories’ because that fits part of all of our names, but if you want something different we can talk about it now that you’re here!”

“Okay, that’s great, but Sixer, we didn’t come here to stay,” Stan says, taking a step forward.

Pure blind panic flashes across Ford’s face, but before Stan can figure out what that means, he turns around and starts ruffling through a desk behind him.

“Why wouldn’t you want to stay here though, this place is perfect!” he calls.  He’s probably hoping Stan won’t pick up on the fear in his voice if he’s not looking at him, which, he really should know better.

“Ford,” he starts.  But before he can continue, Ford spins around and holds something out at Fiddleford.  It looks like a simple box with a bright red button on top.

“This is for you, Fiddleford!” he calls happily.  “I made you a huge room full of all sorts of stuff you can build robots with!  And if any of it ever breaks, you just press this red button, and it’ll immediately fix itself!  So you never have to worry about your dad telling you to stop!  And you can make anything you want, every idea works exactly how you think it will here!”

Fiddleford stares at the box for a minute, wide-eyed, and after Ford pushes it closer at him, he reaches out and takes it.

“Fidds,” Stan hisses.

Fiddleford looks at him for a second, then back at the box.  “Um,” he says.  “I think we actually need to—”

“Come on, just give it a try!  I even got you your own lab coat!”

He reaches back and holds it out, and Stan sees the moment he loses Fiddleford.

“Fidds, come on!” he exclaims.

“Sorry Stan, I just— just a couple minutes, okay?” Fiddleford says, giving him a sheepish look.  “I mean, it can’t hurt anything to rest for just a bit, right?  We’ve been running all day.”

“But—”

“Awesome!” Ford calls happily.  “Come on, I’ll show you where it is!”

“Wait, stop!” Stan yells.  But as Ford turns around and leads Fiddleford away, one of the older scientists grabs his arm, then squeezes and twists so hard Stan yelps in pain.  He tries to yank his arm free, but then another scientist grabs him from the other side, and both hold onto him tightly until they hear “Have fun!”

They both let go immediately, and Ford runs back up to the table.  “I have something for you too!” he says to Stan, obvious excitement in his voice.

“Ford, we really—”

“Hang on!”

Ford turns around and pulls open a drawer in the desk behind him, then reaches inside and starts to pull something out.

“I’ve been working on this for half the summer,” he says.  “But once I woke up here I was finally able to make it work!”

He sets down a large metal machine with two metal balls attached to the end, then steps back and flips a switch.  The balls both start spinning.

Ford beams at Stan like this is supposed to mean something to him.  “It’s for you!” he calls.  Then he ducks behind the machine and spreads his hands out on either side, as if displaying it.  “Ta-da!”

“Oh,” Stan says.  He moves around to the other side of the table to catch Ford’s gaze again.  “Uh, that’s cool I guess.  Listen, Sixer, we really need to talk.”

But there’s that flash of panic across Ford’s face again, and he turns around to face the desk and starts rifling through papers and notebooks.

“Don’t worry if you don’t understand it yet,” he says.  “That’s what the presentation is for!  You’ll get how amazing it is then!”

“Presentation?”

Ford snaps his fingers, and the laboratory shifts around them into some kind of auditorium.  Stan’s standing suddenly on a stage, in front of a display that includes both the machine, right behind Ford, and a chalkboard on the other side of the stage, with all sorts of pages of notes taped to it.

“Now,” Ford adjusts a bowtie that hadn’t been there before and steps right next to the machine.  “I am sure you are all wondering what this fantastic device does.”

“No,” Stan says plainly, crossing his arms.  “I’m wondering when we can go somewhere to talk.”

“Please save all questions until the end of the presentation!” Ford says, a note of desperation in his voice that he can’t seriously think Stan doesn’t hear.

“Ford.”

“Anyway,” Ford says, turning around to face the chalkboard.  “This is a perpetual motion machine!  You’ll notice that it’s not plugged into anything and there are no batteries, but ever since I’ve flipped the switch, the balls on top haven’t stopped moving!  This is because—”

Stan looks up at the ceiling and holds in a groan.  Why is Ford being stupid?  There’s obviously something bothering him, there’s obviously been something bothering him for a while now, and if it’s gotten to the level of “Bill has used me to start an apocalypse and locked me up in a problem-avoidance bubble”, they obviously need to talk about it!

Ford, however, either doesn’t know this or doesn’t care, because he continues talking in a whole bunch of science jargon that Stan is half convinced he just made up.

Finally, he finishes gesturing at the machine and turns to face all of the other scientists, this time ignoring Stan entirely.

“I will now take questions!” he announces with a bright smile.

“Great, I got a question,” Stan says.  “Can we go—”

“How did you balance the weight of the balls with the poles keeping them attached to the machine?” one of the scientists interrupts.  Stan glares at him.  Rude.

“Great question!” Ford says.  “I had to take into account—”

“Hey,” Stan says.  He tries to push his way past the scientists around him, only for one of the ones behind him to grab his arm and yank him back harshly.  Stan glares behind him, but Ford keeps talking, not even seeming to have noticed.

“Ford,” Stan says, turning back around, but Ford just barrels past him and keeps talking about weight distribution.

Stan tries once again to push past all the scientists, but the one behind him just tightens his grip and holds him firmly in place.  Stan groans in frustration and tries to yank his arm away to no avail.

Another scientist from the other side of the group asks a question Stan can’t hear, but that draws Ford’s attention.  Ford turns to face the scientist, which puts his back to Stan, and one of the scientists immediately grabs his other arm.

“Hey!” Stan snaps, and then another one shoves a hand over his mouth.  Stan gives a muffled cry, but all of the scientists just start grabbing and shoving him, jostling him in all different directions until Stan loses track of where he is.

When they finally stop, he’s standing at the back of the large group.  He tries to step forward and force his way through, only for a scientist to turn around and shove him back, dangerously close to the edge of the stage.

Someone from up near the front of the group says something that results in all of the group starting over towards the other side of the stage with the chalkboard.  Stan clenches his fist, nerves and irritation swimming together in his gut.  He can’t just let them take Ford, not after he finally made it here.  But there’s no chance he can find Fiddleford without those stupid scientists getting in his way, and Ford’s not listening to him.  How is he supposed to get Ford to listen to him?

As if in response, the group of scientists shift, splitting into two separate groups on either side of the stage, and giving Stan a direction path to the machine sitting on the display.

And yeah, that’s definitely suspicious.  They wouldn’t do that if they didn’t think it was going to make things worse.  But he’s all on his own now, and he has to do something, and, well, that’ll work.

So Stan grits his teeth, marches through the scientists and up to the machine, hefts it up over his head, and hurls it at the floor.

[nowimjustastranger]

StCMO Lore | Part 3

I also tweaked the Bill era and his motivations for taking Ford under his wing.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

And, once he stocks up on supplies for his travels, Stanford returns to the parallel dimension and Fiddleford closes the portal behind him. Stanford officially starts his search for a Stanley that is identical to his own to bring home with him. He travels through pre-existing wormholes using the tracker in his wrist gauntlet, charting his course through the multiverse in the first of many journals.

Soon after, he meets one Bill Cipher, who presents himself as an ally. Stanford accepts his offer to teach him languages, help him build a translator for alien languages that Ford physically couldn't speak, getting him out of rough spots while he was still getting the hang of traveling, and also showing him how to get around faster.

Bill helps Stanford build a gun that can produce wormholes at will, with the added bonus of plugging in which dimension Stanford wants to enter. This perceived display of trust and goodwill lowers Stanford’s guard, leading him to befriend Bill, who encourages Stanford to keep searching for the perfect Stan when he becomes disheartened.

Although, when Stanford manages to come across a Stanley that is nearly identical to his own, he hesitates. He watches from a distance for days as doubt begins to creep in, guilt following soon after. Who was he to try and replace his brother? If he did this, he would be defiling Stanley’s memory with a cheap imitation. But even still, he couldn’t just leave and condemn this Stanley that reminded him so much of his brother to such a miserable existence.

Before Stanfrod can formulate a plan to help Stanley, the man heads to a payphone and calls someone, the phone held in a white-knuckle grip. Stanford turns up his sound processors to hear the conversation over the pouring rain, his heart dropping to the asphalt when he recognizes the voice on the other end as his own. His counterpart doesn't seem to know who is calling him and Stanley doesn't speak, slumping against the side of the phone booth as he listens to his brother demand that the ‘prank calls’ cease.

This was the moment that Stanford realized all those silent calls that had mysteriously stopped after Stanley’s final voicemail were his brother reaching out to him.

Stanford tears his helmet off to throw up what little was in his stomach and then cries for a long time, his tears lost to the rain. Shaking hands pull the helmet back over his head some time later only to discover that Stanley is talking. And not only that, but Stanley is crying. Stanley hadn’t cried in the voicemail left for Stanford, he had just sounded tired and sad.

“Please, Ford, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry. It’s all my fault." Staley sobs, his knees threatening to give out under the weight of his exhaustion. “But please, please help me. Ford I– I can’t, please.”

As his counterpart’s silence drags on, Stanford silently wills him to answer. Hoping against all hope that he wouldn’t make the same mistake that Stanford had. And, when his counterpart does speak, it’s to give Stanley an address. Stanley’s legs finally fail him, folding to send him crashing to his knees as he openly weeps, babbling words of gratitude that stab into Stanford like knives.

Stanley shouldn’t thank Stanford for simply doing what a brother damn well ought to.

Stanford sticks around a little longer, making sure that Stanley gets to his destination in one piece. As soon as the door to the Shack opens, Stanley is collapsing into his brother, crushing him into a desperate hug that is tentatively returned. Stanford can see the moment that his counterpart realizes that his brother is in rough shape, his touch becoming firm yet still gentle as he leads Stanley inside.

The door shuts and Stanford lurks.

[saint-transfag]

Afterimage: a Fiddlestan fanfiction

a sight lingering in view after seeing what one knew

A post-Fiddauthor Fiddlestan fic exploring trauma, aftermath equations, healing together, and loss.

*eventually: contains explicit content

Chapter 3

“More coffee?”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, his companion had gone through four more cups and Stan didn’t even know how many pages of head-splitting equations and codes and diagrams and all manner of bullshit like that. 

“Oh—yes, thank you,” Fiddleford replied absently, his full focus on the decryption notes before him. They’d stayed in the kitchen after Fiddleford’s panic attack below ground and gotten to work not long after their conversation.

Stan kept wanting to interject and stop Fiddleford from pushing himself too hard. At the same time he didn’t want to be pushy himself—in any direction. Despite how resolute the man had seemed in his decision to stay, Stan couldn’t help but feel like he would disappear into a puff of smoke if Stan so much as breathed on him.

And good God did he need Fiddleford’s help. He tried not to be a leeching bum about it, keeping Fiddleford’s mug full and the materials coming. They sat side-by-side as they worked, part of which involved Stan catching him up on his own portal work of the last six weeks. It seemed to Stan that he’d mostly just spent the whole time scrambling to even kind of catch up to Fiddleford and his brother.

It didn’t occur to Stan once that he was trying to teach himself PhD-level theoretical physics, as well as mechanical engineering that relied heavily on alien technology, without ever having been afforded the opportunity to so much as complete his high school degree.

Perspective was something far beyond Stan now. He’d had tunnel-vision focus on his fuck-ups and on recovering Stanford. Little else had mattered to him besides doing what little he must to keep a source of cash coming. Though he did spare an occasional thought to an unfamiliar sense of pride in the Murder Hut: Stan had meant it earlier that day when he’d said people seemed to enjoy the place, and business was already starting to do well with both townsfolk and overly-optimistic early-season tourists alike.

Stan looked up from pretending to study notes he’d already read ten times. Dusk had given way to the full black of night, and he realized that it had been a while since he’d eaten. Fuck—he hadn’t even offered to feed Fiddleford yet or anything. 

He stretched, glancing furtively around the kitchen. Thankfully, it wasn’t in the worst shape he’d seen it after that first time he’d finally cleaned Ford’s abomination of a dish pile. 

He turned to Fiddleford. “You hungry?”

Fiddleford jumped, startled out of his concentration. “Wh!—oh, ah—” he stared into the middle distance. “Why… I suppose so, yes.”

“Good, ‘cuz I make a mean French onion gratinée—that is, au gratin—soup. Haven’t made it in a good while, but I think I actually have most of the ingredients for it right now. Want any for dinner? Or I could, uh,”

Stan got up to review the contents of the fridge, but before he could offer any more choices, Fiddleford said behind him—with a smile that Stan couldn’t see— “that sounds delightful.”

“Great,” Stan said, twisting back to grin at Fiddleford over his shoulder. The tail-end of Fiddleford’s smile still lingered on his face and for far too many seconds the entirety of Stan’s brain became TV static.

“Uh—sorry—what?” Stan asked, flustered back into reality by the realization that Fiddleford had said something to him.

Fiddleford flushed a little, for some reason.

“Ah, I just asked where you learned to make it. Sounds fancy—I didn’t even know you could make a soup au gratin.”

“Oh! Uh. I managed to keep down a job as a cook at this nice diner once, back when I’d managed to stay in one place for a while. During winter too, so I got to keep warm. They had us makin' a lot of stuff like this.”

“I see,” Fiddleford murmured. Stan tried not to squirm under the intensity of his gaze.

That was something that Stan was beginning to notice about Fiddleford already—just how fucking piercing those pale blue eyes of his could be when the man was focused on something. God, and didn’t that make him sound like a cheesy romance novel.

Not that he knew what a cheesy romance novel sounded like. Obviously.

Quickly Stan busied himself with clearing out more room on the kitchen surfaces and got to work on the soup, leaving Fiddleford to his code-breaking.

Fiddleford tried to concentrate on re-familiarizing himself with his own work and piecing apart Stanford’s cryptograms, but damn if it wasn’t hard after Stan had looked at him like that.

In some ways, it hadn’t reminded him of Stanford at all—but in too many ways, it had. Stanley Pines was already becoming both balm and burr to the pain of being here.

He did his best to focus on his equations, his progress—but it was no use. Stanley would start humming to music only he could hear, or swaying his hips a little as he cooked, and Fiddleford’s train of thought would make a grisly collision with a brick wall. 

Just when he had almost gotten back on track, staring at a diagram he was just barely beginning to remember drawing himself, a meaty hand appeared in his vision to sweep his papers to one side. “And presto!” Stanley announced, placing a bowl and spoon in front of him, then a plate of bread in the center of the table. He was wearing a proud grin and seemed pleased with himself.

Read the full chapter on ao3

Read from the beginning

[stanliestduo]

I'm currently reading Journal 3 for the first, time, and I have to say that when people characterize Ford, they don't acknowledge just how much of an asshole he is. And I think ignoring this part of him genuinely does a disservice to his character.

Ford is perhaps one of the most complex, if not the most complex characters in the Gravity Falls series. I have watched the show and I'm only at just the point where Fiddle shows up to meet Ford for his project in Journal 3 (Have not started Book of Bill yet so please don't spoil me), but this is already building up such an interesting study of him. Ford is at this point in the journal a self isolating, selfish asshole. So far, he's been able to exist away from the general population. He's the type of person that seemingly can be by themselves for very, very long periods of time. However, when Fiddleford comes to help him, he immediately says having a friend there has increased his energy and how generous he wanted to be to Fiddle when he first came! Only to, on the very next page, talk about the things Fiddle does that annoy him and mention a computer he made him that, despite the work Fiddle did in making it fit his six fingered hands, will never use, and even insults it before thinking about fucking with his friend's Cubic's cube just to make him mad. Ford essentially is all glowing review and talking about how much his friend means to him in concept, but having to deal with anyone else for any length of time after that initial meeting makes him see their flaws. He doesn't trust Fiddle to know his secret and even questions if he could ever "truly appreciate" the fates that brought him and his muse together. There's also a joke Ford makes about how, when Fiddle has a picture of his family on his desk, Ford only has a pic of Nikola Tesla. Ford thinks very little of his family during this isolation, the most thought being given to Stanley in the form of thinking he and his mother are liars, or in the form of a nightmare. And perhaps this is all misreading since I haven't finished the journal yet, but at this point in time Ford seems emotionally distant in a way where he is almost looking for things to be mad at Fiddle for, reasons to keep him distant. I think Ford is used to being alone and isolated because he's grown up mostly friendless aside from Stan, and so does not fully appreciate what it takes to keep a friendship alive. In theory, I think he does want friends, but he's also looking at their use. At this point in the story, Fiddle is useful to him, and the most positively he thinks about anyone is the muse, whom we know to be Bill Cipher, who at this point hasn't done anything but provide Ford with inspiration then leave. His only real friend, the only person whom he had a true emotional connection with was Stan, and that has been effectively cut off. Without Stan, people are whatever they can provide to him, and easily cut off (as we see from how quickly in the show he was willing to tell Fiddle to go fuck himself the second Fiddle tried to leave the project). I think these are traits which he has to actively fight against as well as he grows as a character, but also I think this is important to note in that, even when he does not LIKE Stan, he still has nightmares over him, he thinks about him, and is still so deeply affected by even his own isolation from him, from himself cutting Stan off. Because if even Stan can fail him, of course everyone else will. Consciously or not, Ford's emotional distance that is hidden with his chipper attitude and drive for science above all else is a protection so that what happened between him and Stan will never happen again.