#at least stan got over himself with the twins

[korovaoverlook]

finals week can’t stop me from making little shifty angst drawings

[tremendouscreationperson]

At Stan's sham funeral you have a strange conversation with 'Ford'

Part 2

Going to Stanley's funeral was surreal to say the least.

And worse was that his mother had to tell you. She called you, quietly sobbing down the line, late at night to inform you.

You couldn't believe it.

Stanley.

Your Stanley.

Well no. He was never yours.

He could have been...

In another life maybe.

You packed for a small stay and arrived at the shitty hotel, which upon further inspection was semi-decent but that did nothing to brighten your mood.

Memories of you, Ford and Stan at school flashed across your mind. The twins were your only friends, you weren't popular to begin with and even as your body changed and you filled out, being associated with them didn't change your reputation. But you loved them.

Ford was scarily intelligent and lightning fast with comebacks you were too stupid to understand.

And Stan was brilliant.

You knew he hated being the 'shitty' twin. The 'useless' one. The 'spare' Stan. But he wasn't!! Stan was amazing.

He had a brilliant imagination and you loved seeing him really throw himself into a task. He hadn't liked boxing to begin with but as he grew up and got better you'd go to his matches, cheering him on.

He always came to your side after a match - win or lose - always claiming you were his good luck charm.

It was bliss until it wasn't.

Until the twins fell out. Until Stan was kicked to the curb.

You had resented Ford for letting their dad throw him away.

Stan had stopped by yours one evening to say goodbye, you knew his cocky "don't miss me"s were an act and knew he was hurting but didn't want to ruin the evening. If you had, you might've followed him.

Seemingly overnight, they were both suddenly gone and you were alone.

~~

The service was tiny.

A man in a shabby suit stood at the door, scowling at the coffin. Caryn was standing at it crying silent tears as Ford rubbed her back. They were both in black, Caryn wearing a posh dress with a shawl wrapped around her shaking shoulders and Ford in a suit.

You hadn't physically seen them in years.

Drifting apart unnaturally when the rift formed.

You stepped up and stood on Caryn's free side. She noticed the movement and immediately squeezed you in a hug.

"Oh, love." She whispered into your hair, pulling back and cupping your cheeks. "I'm glad to see you."

You agreed. It had been too long. "I wish it was under different circumstances."

She nodded, turning back to the closed wooden box.

Next to it was a photo of Stan shyly smiling. You had taken it using your Christmas present. God you adored that camera, adored taking stupid photos with it. The photo was from when he decided to grow a mullet, his hair was longer than usual and as he smirked into the camera he looked younger than you knew him to be. He'd always be younger than you now.

You had to force your eyes away and they landed on Ford, he was staring at you, brows pulled. It was hard to look at him. Had he always looked that much like Stan?

"Hey." He scratched his chin with a gloved hand.

"Hi." You stepped back to not speak over his mom.

"You came."

Why wouldn't you?

Well, you hadn't been sent an invitation.

Maybe he didn't want you here.

You didn't care.

"Of course I'm here." Your eyes watered. Was he going to turn you away? "Stan meant the world to me."

"He did?" Ford's words were small.

You nod once, biting the inside of your cheek as you willed the tears to stay put.

The three of you stood there staring at the coffin in silence.

What more could you do?

A few words here and there were spoken but none of you had the heart for anything grand. He deserved it but you couldn't.

You had to excuse yourself after the silence became too suffocating. Sitting on the steps outside. It was cold.

It didn't take long for Ford to find you.

He sat next to you, twiddling his thumbs. You were going to be sick, that was something Stan did. When did Ford pick up the habit?

He had brought the silence out here. If you were alone it was merely you being alone but now the two of you weren't speaking. It was silent.

"I loved him you know?" You spoke to no one, eyes glued to your knees. Why had you confessed? That wasn't something you thought you'd do today.

"Don't say that." Ford pulled out a packet of cigarettes, offering you one. Fuck, even that was reminiscent of his brother.

"It's true." You shook your head at the offer. "Had the fattest crush." A dark chuckle escaped you as he lit the cigarette. "He was way outta my league, though."

Ford coughed, spluttering at your words. "Fuck off."

Patting his back you replied, "It's true. I could never compete with little miss hot pants."

Ford was staring at you. It wasn't freakish or weird but it was for a prolonged amount of time. You didn't care. It wasn't as if you were lying.

He took a drag of the cigarette. "He was leagues below you."

"Don't do that." Your tone wasn't forceful but you felt an anger simmer. "I know you guys argued but he was brilliant. Truly brilliant."

Ford eyes were glossy, his face contorting in pain. You spied his hand hovering near yours before it closed and he pulled it to his side. The man let out a sigh before hugging himself.

"He-he loved you."

You rolled your eyes. "You don't have to pretend, I'm alright."

"I'm not pretending, he truly loved you. You were his favourite person. He talked about you in his sleep." You raised an eyebrow. "I'm serious. He was only with 'hot pants' because he didn't want to fuck it up with you."

That hurt.

He loved you.

Fuck.

You both liked each other and wasted your time.

Shit.

You buried your head, weeping.

.

.

.

Part 2

[darlingdaisyfarm]

a small gift

tags: Stan x fem!reader x Ford, birthday, humour, fluff, just had to write this wholesome little fic for them because they deserve to be happy, singing, awkward Ford, sfw, inspired by Lana del Rey song

Stanley Pines leaned back in his old armchair, glancing at the calendar on the wall. His eyes landed on the circled date — June 15th, their birthday. He couldn’t help but smile as he thought of his brother, hunched over his never-ending stack of research papers, buried in his makeshift lab. Typical Ford. Always with his nose deep in some crackpot science theory, instead of, you know, enjoying life.

"Yeah, no way I’m lettin’ him get away with that this year." Stan muttered to himself. This time, he thought, Ford’s gonna get outta his damn cave and actually have some fun for once.

Stanley strode towards the stairs, stopping at the basement door. He gave it a sharp, rhythmic knock. "Hey, Poindexter! You better not be down there doin’ more of your ‘save-the-universe’ mumbo jumbo! It’s our birthday, ya know!"

There was a brief pause before a muffled voice responded. "Yes, Stanley, I’m fully aware of the date. Just let me finish these calculations—"

"Calculations, schmalkulations! You been finishin’ calculations for forty years, Ford. Trust me, that last decimal point ain’t gonna make a difference to the end of the world or whatever. Now c’mon!" Stan rapped the door again, growing impatient. "I got somethin’ special planned for us tonight. And don’t even try pullin’ that ‘I’m busy’ crap on me this time!"

Ford’s face appeared at the door, peeking through his glasses, which were just a little too smudged from the constant tinkering. "Stanley, I’ve told you, I’m close to a major breakthrough with this—"

“Yeah, yeah, ‘major breakthrough,’ like I haven’t heard that one before." Stan cut him off, grinning as he leaned against the doorframe. "Newsflash, nerd, we ain’t gettin’ any younger, and you’ve barely stepped foot outside since you got back from that other dimension. So, guess what? I’m takin’ ya out tonight!"

Ford frowned. "Out? To where exactly?"

Stan waggled his eyebrows. "Oh, you’ll see. Let’s just say it ain’t the library."

Ford looked at his brother with disbelief. "Stanley, I have absolutely no interest in your usual haunts, whatever dive bar or—"

"Whoa, whoa, slow your roll, Stanford! It’s our birthday! You’re actin’ like I’m draggin’ ya to a strip club or somethin’." Stanley chuckled, already imagining Ford’s awkward reaction if that was the plan. He slapped a hand on Ford’s shoulder. "Nah, I’m takin’ ya to a place with some class. . . and somethin' that'll remind ya why the real world’s worth livin' in, instead of buryin’ your head in books all the time."

Ford adjusted his glasses, still hesitant. "Stanley, I really don’t think—"

“Ah, save it! It's out of the question, buddy, tonight’s gonna be a birthday to remember! Trust me." he turned, heading towards the door, already sensing his twin following behind reluctantly. "And don’t forget, you owe me for all the times I’ve bailed your six-fingered butt outta danger! So, tonight, you’re gonna relax, have a drink, and maybe even talk to someone who ain’t made of equations or alien technology."

***

Stan grinned smugly as looked at Ford’s face. Neon signs flashed ahead, but this wasn’t one of those rough, rundown places Ford hated. It was something fancier. Classier, at least by Stan’s standards. From the open door came the low hum of jazz, mixed with the clink of glasses and soft chatter.

Stan slapped Ford on the back, ushering him forward. "Don’t make that face, Ford It’s nothin’ crazy, but it’s got live music, good drinks and a whole lotta people who don’t speak in alien gibberish. It’s a start, huh?"

Ford blinked, looking genuinely surprised for once. "This. . . isn’t what I expected."

"Yeah, I bet it ain’t!" Stan chuckled. "thought I was gonna take ya to some cabaret joint, didn’t ya?"

Ford didn’t respond, but his silence said enough.

“Look, Ford, I know you’re allergic to fun, but tonight’s our night. No weird science, no alternate dimensions. Just you, me, and a stiff drink. Let’s enjoy it while we can, alright?"

Ford hesitated, looking at the customers sitting at candlelit tables with soft jazz swirling around them. He slowly nodded, a reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Alright, but only because you’re my brother."

Stan clapped his hands together, beaming. "That’s the spirit! Now, come on, let’s get some drinks in us. You might even get lucky and find someone who actually understands all that nerdy crap you talk about."

Ford smirked, adjusting his coat. "I highly doubt that, Stanley."

Stan winked. "Well, let’s hope so, Sixer. Let’s hope so."

Stan and Ford made their way deeper, the soft jazz filled their ears. The place was packed, but not in an overwhelming way. Couples sat at small round tables, sipping drinks, while a few loners nursed their glasses at the bar, heads swaying to the music.

Stan led Ford to an empty table in the corner, claiming it like he’d been there a hundred times before. He slid into his seat with a satisfied grunt, slapping the table lightly with the palm of his hand. "Alright, Poindexter, sit your six-fingered butt down. I’ll go grab us a couple drinks."

Ford eyed people with a mixture of curiosity and discomfort, still adjusting to the unfamiliar scene, a little anxiety crept into his head. "Stanley, I really don’t think this is—"

"Ah, none of that thinkin' stuff tonight, Ford. You’ve done enough of that for ten lifetimes." Stan got up, heading for the bar with a mischievous grin. "Just sit back and let me handle the drinks. Somethin’ a little more exciting than your usual black coffee or whatever sludge you drink."

Stanford couldn’t help but observe the people around him. They were just different. Lively. Engaged in conversation. Present. It was strange to him—an entire room full of people who weren’t obsessed with solving the mysteries of the universe. They were just living. He sighed, running a hand through his graying hair.

Stan returned a few minutes later, balancing two glasses of amber-colored liquid. He slid one across the table to Ford with a satisfied smirk. "There ya go. Whiskey. Nothin’ fancy, but it’ll do the trick."

Ford picked up the glass, inspecting it with confused face. "Stanley, you know I’m not much of a drinker—"

“Yeah, well, tonight you are." Stan raised his own glass in a toast. "To another year of not gettin’ ourselves killed, huh? And maybe to you actually takin' a break from savin’ the world for once."

Ford hesitated, then clinked his glass against Stan’s and finally smile appeared on his face. "Alright, to surviving another year."

They both took a sip, though Stanford immediately winced, the burn of the whiskey stronger than he’d expected. Stan, on the other hand, downed half of his glass in one go, letting out a contented sigh.

"Ahh, now that’s the good stuff, that's what I call life." Stan leaned back in his seat, eyeing his brother with a knowing smile. "So, how’s it feel to be out in the real world again, Poindexter? A little better than starin’ at equations all night, huh?"

Ford looked around again, enjoying the warm golden glow of the place. It was nice, he had to admit. The music, the atmosphere. . . it was different from his usual solitude. "It’s certainly a change of pace," he said, chuckling softly.

Stan smiled, shaking his head. "I swear, Ford, you could be sittin’ in a room full of clowns on fire and you’d still be playin’ it cool."

"I’ve seen stranger things, Stanley."

"Yeah, yeah, I bet you have. But look around!" Stan waved a hand at the room. "All these people? They’re just livin’ life. No wormholes, no time anomalies. Just fun, just drinks and music. And trust me, you could use a little more of that."

Ford stared into his drink, swirling the liquid around before taking another small sip. "You’re probably right," he admitted, though his tone was still a little stiff. "It’s just difficult to switch off sometimes. My work, it—"

“Your work ain’t goin’ anywhere. You’re always gonna have some world-endin’ thing to worry about. But that don’t mean you gotta shut yourself off from everything else." he leaned forward, lowering his voice slightly. "I mean, you spent thirty years away from here, Ford. I’m just tryin’ to make sure you don’t spend the next 30 stuck in your own head."

Ford was quiet for a moment, listening to his brother’s words. He knew his brother was right. As much as he valued his research, his wish to understand the universe, he had to admit—there was something refreshing about being out here. With real people. But much better, with his family. With Stan.

Stanley must have noticed the gears turning in Ford's head, because he suddenly slammed on the table, breaking the silence. "Alright, enough of this sappy crap! Let’s get you another drink and maybe we’ll even see if there’s a lady in here who’s crazy enough to listen to you talk about multiverses for more than five minutes."

Ford nearly choked on his whiskey. "Stanley, I’m not here to—"

"Ah, come on! It’s your birthday too, ya know. And don’t pretend you ain’t lonely down in that lab of yours. I saw the way you looked at those nachos. Pretty sad, Poindexter. And frankly, disappointing.”

Ford thought he was imagining it. “I didn’t—“

***

Their evening was going great. Stan entertained himself by cracking jokes at the expense of the room’s more eccentric patrons, while Ford watched, occasionally interjecting with his dry wit. They argued about everything from the proper way to run a business to the existence of life on other planets.

Stan leaned back in his seat, nursing his third glass of whiskey, and let out a long, satisfied sigh. "Y’know, I gotta admit, It’s good havin’ ya back."

Ford looked at his brother and a genuine warmth was reflected on his face."It’s good to be back, Stanley."

For a few seconds, neither of them said anything because they simply didn’t have to. The jazz band played on and the low murmur of the bar filled the silence between them.

Then, just as the moment threatened to get too sentimental, Stan ruined it in classic Stan style.

"Now, let’s see if we can’t find you a nice gal who can keep up with all that crazy stuff in your head."

Ford groaned, rubbing his temple. "Stanley. . .”

Just as Stan was about to say something to embarrass Ford once more, the lights in the room dimmed slightly, drawing everyone’s attention toward the small stage at the center of the club. A soft spotlight illuminated the area, casting a golden glow over a lone figure standing in front of a vintage microphone. There you were,breathtaking, wrapped in a dark red dress that shimmered in the light like velvet. The fabric hugged your form perfectly, falling to the floor in gentle waves that wrapped around your legs. A high slit revealed a teasing glimpse of your leg as you stood with one hand resting lightly on the microphone stand.

The dress was luxurious, dark crimson in color, like wine aged in the shade. It clung to you in all the right ways, that made you look like something out of a classic movie, a femme fatale come to life. There was something called old-Hollywood glamour about you.

You scanned the audience, searching for faces in the dimly lit room, but two figures near the front caught your attention. Mysterious twins, two men, were both staring straight at you. Their eyes widened, and in unison, as if connected by the same thought, they spoke under their breath.

“Wow.”

But Stan continued. "Well, I’ll be damned. Now that’s somethin’ you don’t see every day."

Your lips curved into a small smile as you began to sing, letting your voice fill the room and as you sang, their attention never wavered.

"I've seen the world, done it all, had my cake now,

Diamonds, brilliant, and Bel Air now,”

Stan couldn’t stop admiring, resting his arms on the table, his grin spreading wider with every passing second. “Well, look at this. Ain’t she somethin’,” he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. He tipped his head slightly in your direction, his eyes trailing the line of your dress. “Charming girl, isn't she, Ford?”

Stanford sat frozen, his eyes never leaving you, completely entranced by the way you moved, by your voice, dress, face, by everything. He swallowed hard, shifting awkwardly in his seat, his mind racing but his body still, as if locked in place.

“You hearin’ that, Ford?" Stan nudged his brother without taking his eyes off you. "That voice. Like honey, huh? Bet she’s got every poor guy in here wrapped around her finger."

Ford finally said something. “She’s. . . remarkable.” he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

Stan, of course, couldn’t let it go. “Remarkable?” he gave a short laugh. “C’mon, Poindexter. Don’t be shy. You can’t tell me you’re not feelin' that.”

You let the lyrics spill from your lips, your voice rising with the music. “Hot summer nights, mid-July, When you and I were forever wild,”

As you sang, your gaze drifted back to them, and you caught Ford, he stared at you dumbfounded, biting his lip. God, he was flushed, was it really that stuffy here? His fingers tapped lightly on the table. He was hooked and he didn’t even realize how obvious it was.

Stan, on the other hand, couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “Just look at that,” he said, shaking his head in admiration. “This girl’s got it, yeah? Ain’t often you see a performer like that. It’s the whole package - looks, voice, everything.”

But Ford’s compliments weren’t loud, weren’t teased out like Stan’s, but they were there, written all over his red face. The way his brow furrowed slightly, the way his lips parted just a bit when you hit a particularly emotional note, it was clear that he was just as captivated, if not more so, than Stan.

"I know you will, I know you will, I know that you will, Will you still love me when I got nothing but my aching soul?" as you hit that line, your gaze settled squarely on them, locking eyes with both brothers, one after the other.

“Now that’s a question, huh?” Stan said with a smirk, leaning closer to Ford. “You think she’s askin' us that? 'cause, uh, if so, I ain’t complainin'.”

Ford’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, eyes fixed on you. He didn’t say anything, he couldn’t.

You moved into the next verse.

"I've seen the world, lit it up as my stage now, Channeling angels in the new age now,” you didn't just perform, you lived every note, every lyric.

“Look at ya, Poindexter. You're sittin' there like a deer in headlights. Ain't you ever seen a girl before?" he chuckled under his breath, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Hell, you’ve seen aliens, damn demonic triangle! this should be easy for you.”

Ford tried to hide it, to look anywhere but at you, but useless, his gaze kept drifting back. He was still speechless, lost in your performance.

Then came the line that took both twins' breath away.

“Dear Lord, when I get to Heaven Please let me bring my man,”

Here, the crowd melted away. It's just you, the music and these two mysterious men. Your voice softened, and you sang with all your heart, with all your soul and love. You looked directly at them, first at Stan, whose grin widened even more, then at Ford, whose breath caught in his throat. You held both their gazes and you smiled at them. It was playful, teasing, what made both brothers mutter another “wow” at same time.

Stan almost spilled whiskey on himself.  “Well, darlin’, I sure as hell hope they’re lettin’ me in, ‘cause if you’re up there, I’m signin’ up early.”

But Ford still couldn’t find his voice. He tried, opened his mouth, closed it again, then opened it again. You had him completely disarmed, and he didn’t know how to handle it. As you continued to sing, you knew their attention locked on you. Stan’s gaze was open, unashamed, drinking you in with every word, while Ford’s was more cautious, but no less intense. They were both falling and you could see it plain as day.

Ford glanced at Stan, then back at you, clearly wrestling with himself. He finally managed to speak, but his voice sounded shaky. “She. . . she has a beautiful voice.”

“A voice? Told ya, she got the whole damn package, Ford! Look at her!”

You smiled, even if you didn't hear what they were talking about as the song drew to a close. You hit the final note, letting it linger in the air, and when the applause came, it felt like a distant sound compared to the connection you’d felt with them, both of them.

The stage lights dimmed as you walked off, your dress sweeping behind you like a crimson river. The applause rang out across the room and you slipped behind the curtain, disappearing from view. Back at the table, Stan and Ford sat frozen, their eyes still locked on the now-empty stage.

Stan was the first to speak, his usual swagger returning full force. “Well, that was somethin’. Hell, she practically dedicated that song to me.” he smirked, tapping his fingers on the table in satisfaction. “She’s got good taste, I’ll give her that.”

Ford shot him a side glance, his expression annoyed a bit. “Stanley, she doesn’t even know you,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “Calm down.”

“You jealous? ‘cause I’m pretty sure she was lookin' right at me when she sang that whole ‘Dear Lord’ line.”

Ford stiffened. “I’m not,” he replied quickly. “I’m just pointing out the facts.”

“Sure, sure. No need to get worked up, Ford.” Stan laughed, watching his brother’s obvious discomfort. “Looks like she’s got both of us good, huh? don’t you worry, Poindexter, I’ll let you have a shot. Maybe.”

Ford muttered something under his breath, avoiding Stan’s teasing gaze. He couldn’t shake the image of you, standing there in that dress, your charming voice echoing in his mind. It was magnetic. He wasn’t one to get distracted by things like this, but something about you had hit him hard. Harder than he was willing to admit, even to himself.

Stan, meanwhile, was already planning his next move. He stood up, all cocky swagger again. “Alright, Ford, let’s go. We’re meetin' her.”

Ford blinked in shock. “Wait— what?”

“You heard me!” Stan’s grin was all confidence. “we’re gonna find her dressing room. Gotta congratulate the girl on a performance like that, right? Besides,” he added with a wink, “she might want a closer look at the Stanley Pines himself.”

Ford shook his head, already regretting this, but deep down, he couldn’t deny that he wanted to see you again. “This is ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous? Nah. It’s genius.” Stan patted Ford on the back as they made their way toward the backstage area. “C’mon, Ford, live a little. Believe me, she’ll be all over us. And hey, if you get nervous, just let ol’ Stan handle it. I’m great with the ladies, y’know.”

Ford sighed, not bothering to respond. His heart was already racing in his chest, his mind replaying the song over and over.

And then they reached the dressing room.

Stan took a deep breath. “Alright, here we go. Follow my lead.”

He knocked on the door and then there was a moment of silence before it slowly creaked open. You stood in the doorway, your stage dress still clinging to your figure.

For a second, neither of them said anything. Stanley suddenly found himself at a loss for words, his usual cocky grin faltering. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His mind scrambled for something to say, but all he could think about was how stunning you looked up close.

Ford, standing behind him, wasn’t much better too. His eyes met yours, which took his breath away. Every thought he had prepared vanished the moment he saw you again. Oh god.

You looked at them a bit confused, but tried to hide it with curious smile. “Can I help you?”

Stan blinked, finally snapping out of it. “Uh— yeah, we— uh, just wanted to say,“ he cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “That was, umm, one hell of a performance!”

Ford nodded. “Yes, it was really beautiful.”

Stan gave him a quick glance, then forced a grin, trying to recover his usual confidence. “Yeah, what he said. You were amazin’. Best thing I’ve seen in a long time.”

Ford shot him a glare, but said nothing, still too flustered to form a coherent sentence.

You raised an eyebrow, amused by their obvious struggle to compose themselves. “Thank you,” you said softly, stepping aside to let them in. “I didn’t expect to have such enthusiastic admirers.”

Stan’s grin returned, a little more confident this time. “Well, y’know, when a girl sings like that, it’s hard not to be impressed.” he winked, but it was so obvious he wasn’t as sure of himself as usual.

The room felt smaller now, air not enough, the three of you standing in this intimate space and this damn silence isn’t making it any better. Stan shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling strangely out of place for the first time in decades. Hell, they were both pushing sixty, damn sixty, and yet, standing here in front of you, they felt like awkward teenagers all over again.

Stan glanced at Ford, mentally asking for support, but his twin looked equally as lost.

For all the things they had seen and done over the years, monsters, mysteries, the paranormal, nothing had prepared them for you.

Surprisingly, Ford spoke up. “What we meant to say is—” he paused, realizing he was rambling, and cleared his throat again. “It’s rare to find someone with such talent. And, um, charisma.”

Stan nodded. “Ya know, we’re not exactly the youngest guys in the room, but damn, if you didn’t make us feel like a couple of teenagers again.” he chuckled awkwardly. “Never thought I’d be this tongue-tied at my age, y’know?”

You couldn’t help but giggle at their awkward flirts, it was clear they were both trying hard to impress you, even if they were struggling to find the right words. “You guys really don’t have to flatter me like that,” you said, feeling your cheeks turning a little bit red. “but I appreciate it.”

Stan looked at his brother and then at you. “See? Even Poindexter here’s smitten,” he teased. Ford flushed, shooting his brother a glare, but didn’t protest. If he was being honest, he couldn’t deny it. Being around you, he felt awkward and unsure.

You took a step closer, smiling gently as you regarded them both. “You two are adorable, you know that?”

After that, the room felt lighter now, like the tension had eased into something more comfortable. Stan and Ford, for all their differences, were in this moment, together, both stunned by you, equally out of their element, but somehow, that was okay. You had them both wrapped around your finger without even trying.

Then Stan leaned closer to you, whispering. “If anything, choose me, not this weirdo, he has a fetish for triangles.”

[chillinglyadventurous]

Sneaking Around - Stanford Pines Part 2

Thanks @doggosnoodles12 for requesting a part 2!

Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4

Tags: NSFW, MDNI!

You were stocking the gift shop shelves. Stan was counting the day’s earning at the cash register behind you when you heard the vending machine swing open. Ford was there with a smile on his face. ‘Bastard’ you thought ‘at least he got to finish.’

It must be so easy to be a man, a quick jerk and he’s done. No need for all the theatrics like women. You hated him for it sometimes, but the thought clouded your mind. You could picture it because you’d seen it before.

He was sitting in the lab. You had watched him so thoughtfully as he stroked himself to you. Your eyes were wide, lips parted ever so slightly as you watched his hand move up and down his length. His stare had been on you, relishing in your flushed cheeks as you sat so close to him, pulling you in for a hot kiss as he came over his hands.

You busied your hands by straighten the bobbleheads on the shelf in front of you. That memory made your hands shake. You couldn’t force the thought of the difference between when he touches himself versus when you do. He was so much more responsive when it was your hand sliding and twisting down his cock than his own. The grunts were a turn on all their own. The way he thrust his hips into you hand was enough to make you gasp.

Nothing, however, compared to how he responded to your mouth. Little whimpers would escape him. His hands would be tangled in your hair as he tried his very best not to push you further down, but it sure felt good when your choked on him, the contraction of your throat mimicking the throbs of your body, breathtaking.

“Busy day?” Ford asked as he crossed over to his brother.

Stan gave a grunt in response, “Would’ve made more money if you weren’t stealing my girl to look at that quantum destabilizer.” By his tone, you could tell Stan was trying not to get angry. He was doing his best to mend fences with his brother, “You better watch her with that thing. One wrong move and, boom, she’s in a lot of trouble.”

A bobble head clattered to the ground at his comment. Both of their gazes were on you, “Sorry.”

Ford gave a soft chuckle, “I watch her very closely. I wouldn’t want her to get hurt.”

Oh, he watched you. He loved watching you, studying how each flick of his tongue caused your face to contort in pleaser. He watched himself slip in and out of you with ease. He made you so wet. He watched when you became so desperate and needy when he tormented you, grinding yourself against his thigh when you could no longer hold yourself back. Yeah, he watched you.

Hurt. No. He’d never hurt you. He could be rough. His fingers often left six little bruises on each hip. You could recall a six fingered, hand-shaped bruise on your left breast a few weeks ago. But, he never hurt you. Always making sure you were alright. You had tried to get him to slap you once. He’d refused, “I couldn’t, ever hit that beautiful face.”

“Well, Shack’s closed, Stan,” you sighed. “Do you mind if I get back down there?

He shrugged, “Do whatever you want, [Y/N]. I’m taking the kids to Greasy’s for dinner.”

“When are you leaving?” Your question overlapped with Ford’s.

Stan gave you both a strange look. His eyebrows crinkled together even though the twins had bounded down the stairs. You gave Dipper and Mabel a smile after your gaze left Ford’s, “Now, I guess.”

You and Ford stood on opposite sides of the gift shop as you watched Stan and the kids leave. As the Stanmobile pulled away from the Shack and disappeared, you could already see Ford bounding to you out of the corner of your eye.

“Stop,” you whispered. You pointed toward the security camera across the room, the same one that was focused on you at that very moment. You didn’t want what you knew was about to happen to be caught on camera.

Ford’s feet stilled. His eyes were hungry. He didn’t want to wait. God, neither did you, but you kept your cool as you waltzed causally back into the house. You swayed your hips a little more than you normally would, tempting your lover to follow you.

Once you were in your bedroom, the door was slammed shut.You didn’t even have time to gasp before Ford was on you, before you were pressed flat against your duvet. Despite his desperation to shove himself into you immediately, afraid to waste a moment, his kiss was soft on your lips. His grip was crushing on your hips, but his kiss was sugary sweet.

“I’m sorry, my love,” he forced himself between your legs. “I’m sorry things are like this. You’re the one suffering.”

You carded your hands through his hair before pulling off his glasses. You moved to kiss him, but gasped as he bucked his clothed hard-on against your centre. You caught your breath, in love with that grin on his face, “You promised to make it up to me.”

“Oh,” he ghosted his lips over yours, “I’m about to.”

For sat back on his calves as he pulled your dress over your head, tossing it onto the floor. His eyes raked over you. Your panties were still missing, probably hidden in some desk drawer in the basement. He unclasped your bra expertly before tossing it away too.

You subconsciously licked your lips when he picked up your right leg. He pressed a kiss to your ankle, traveling up to your knee before picking up your left. He repeated himself there. You watched in awe. Your mind was already clouded. You wanted him to stop playing this game and to get shift a on when he started kissing and nipping at your wrists. His smile against your skin was loving and full of admiration. You just wanted him inside you.

“Ford,” you muttered as he started kissing across your clavicle, “They won’t be gone all night. We have an hour or two max.”

He withdrew his tongue from your navel, “[Y/N], I rarely get fifteen minutes with you.” He tongued your bellybutton again, hands spreading your thighs further. He kneaded that softness just below your ass, “Let me worship you. You deserve this.”

Finally, he touched you. His lips, chapped as they were, wrapped around your clit. He placed a kiss to it before circling with his tongue. The noise you made in response was undoubtedly undignified, a mix of a moan and whine.

Reflexively, you covered your mouth, but Ford was quick to take your wrist in his hand, “None of that. You don’t need to do that now.” He sucked you into his mouth as he inserted a finger. Your hips bucked against his chin when he curled it inside of you, “Let me hear you, please.”

His finger straightened as he withdrew, pushing in a second with a curl of his knuckles. He sighed when he finally heard you, a relaxed moan tumbling out of you as he repeated the movement again, his tongue flicking across your clit again.

“Atta girl,” he smiled against you.

You watched him as he continued. His nose was pressed firmly against your pelvis as his tongue continued its assault. His fingers pumped quickly. He watched your writhe, moans freely spilling past your lips. You chanted his name as you felt your muscles tighten, legs flexing.

You needed to grab onto something when you began to shake, hips rolling frantically against his mouth and hands. A wet squelch sounded with each thrust of his wrist. Finally, you found something to hold onto. Your nails scraped against your headboard. You couldn’t hold his gaze any longer as your orgasm hit you.

“Stanford!” You chanted over and over again as your rode his face. Your eyes closed because you couldn’t look into his anymore. His eyes were always too much when his face was between your thighs, “Oh my god! Ford!”

He continued to eat you through it until you finally came down, legs closing to halt his attempt at overstimulation. Now was not the time for games.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand when you reached for him, “You’re even more beautiful when you’re screaming my name.”

“That’s enough chitchat,” you whispered. You were already unzipping his pants, “Fuck me.”

His boots, jacket, turtleneck, and slacks were on the floor in an instant. You stared at him for a moment. The two of you had rarely ever had the time for him to get fully undressed. Often, you had only ever pulled his cock out of its confines just to get things going, pressed for time.

Suddenly, your order for him to fuck you was abandoned as you pushed him onto the mattress. Climbing atop him, you traced a deep scar across his shoulder with your fingertips. Your touch was gentle while you studied him, all of him.

His chest was broad and so were his shoulders. The muscles of his upper body were well defined. The slight pudge of his stomach was endearing. You smiled down at him, leaning over to place a kiss to his forehead, “You’re beautiful, Stanford. Do you know that?”

His right hand cupped your face as he pulled you into him. You melded together for a moment before he pulled away, “I am so in love with you.”

You bit your lip as you straightened your back, hips rising. You pressed the head of his cock against you warmth. You suck down onto him and the moan he gave was precious. You tried to memorize it before he gave you another with each roll of your hips, moving in tight up and down circles.

You were lost in him, eyes locked as you rode him. With each roll of your hips, you two groaned in tandem. With each upward thrust into you, you both sighed the other’s name. Not a single praise was stifled by a hand for fear of someone hearing. For once, it was just the two of you.

“You’re so tight,” Ford gasped when he felt the familiar flutter of your insides. One hand gripped your hip and the other rested on your lower belly. He wanted to feel how deep he was hitting you, watching the slight bulge of him inside you wasn’t enough, “Mhmm, such a good girl.”

Your body began to shake again, shivering as your relentless pace faltered. You were frozen as you began to milk him, unable to move as the intensity of waiting for this all day was just too much, so he took over. With his feet planted firmly against your mattress, he thrust up into you. With each bounce, you repeated how much you love him until your screamed his name again.

He rode you out. Just as he was about to flip you over, allowing him the ability to pull out, you stopped him, “No, please, cum inside of me. I want to feel it. Please, Ford, please.”

With your breathless words and the clenching of your cunt, he came. The soft pressure was heaven as he fucked you through his own orgasm, “Fuck!”

The room was hot and sticky when you collapsed onto his chest. Every muscle relaxed. Your body was numb, buzzing with the endorphin flowing through your veins. The two of you stayed that way for a while until he pulled out of you. You both gave a sigh, your cheeks blushing when you felt your own release and his gush out of you.

Now, you were laid in his arms. His hands played with the little hairs at the base of your skull. You could hear his heartbeat in his chest. Time had stopped moving, “I love you so much, Ford.”

Loud clatter coming from the other side of the house startled you both. Jumping from the bed, Ford scrambled to put his clothes back on and you did the same. You could hear the twins running down the hall.

When your door opened, you froze, “What the hell is going on?”

Ford barely had time to zip up his pants, his sweater still discarded on the floor, before Stan threw a punch. You’re screamed at him to stop as soon as your dress is back over your head. You tried to put yourself between them, but Ford pushed you away, afraid you’d get caught in the crossfire of punches.

“She’s like a daughter to me, you creep!” Stan shouted as Ford dodged another punch. Stan was quickly pinned to the ground by his twin brother, “I told you to stay away from her! You ruined my life. You’re not going to ruin hers too.”

Suddenly you realized what was happening. Your face fell and so did your voice, “Stanford, let him go.”

Ford glanced in your direction before doing as you said. You stood between them to keep them from hitting each other again, “Stan, what are you talking about?”

His ego was bruised. You knew this. So did Ford, “You’re my family and I’m not going to let this jerk take you away from me too.”

You hugged him tight. You didn’t have a dad growing up. Like Soos, yours was never around. Stan had taken that role when you started working at the Shack, always guiding you in the best way he could to be better than him. He wanted the world for you. When your mom died and you had no where else to go, he took you in out of the kindness of his heart.

“I love Ford. I’m sorry we kept this from you, but,” you took Ford’s hand in yours, “I love him.”

Stan’s eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you and his brother, “Do you love her, sixer?”

“More than anyone could possibly comprehend,” Ford murmured as he placed a kiss against your temple.

Stan was dumbfounded as he stared at the two of you. He couldn’t decide whether or not to be happy that you found love or to kill his twin.

[night-night-stories-before-bed]

Of broken heart and broken bones

Warning ⚠️; jealousy, cursing, old men fighting, old men yaoi, old men crying, Gravity Falls spoilers

Pairing; past Stanford/Male!Reader & present Stanley/Male!Reader

Summary; Stanley somehow got his brother back, but you didn't expect to face your ex ever again. Now Stanford had awkward realization that you are dating his twin who is pretending to be him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Frozen in shock, you still couldn’t believe your eyes. It had been thirty years and yet, Ford almost didn't change besides his hair becoming gray. Same glasses and spark in his eyes.

You hadn't missed him.

Fury burned your blood when Ford punched Stanley in the face, his attention all on his twin as he didn't notice neither you nor the kids. Snarling, you rushed toward Ford who finally saw you. The same surprise as yours painted his face before you grabbed him by the collar, raising your knee to hit him in the nuts. A painful gasp left his mouth and you let go of him, watching Ford fall on the ground.

- “Holy molly! Old men fighting!” Mabel gasped and you almost laughed.

You would have if the situation wasn’t so bad.

- “How fucking dare you? Stan passed thirty years trying to bring your sorry ass back and that how thank him? By punching him in the face, you bastard!” you shouted before you pointed your trembling index toward Ford. “No wonder I left you. You've always been such an asshole.”

You heard the kids gasp but ignored them. Instead, you turned around and walked up to Stan, cupping his face in your hands while examining his jaw. A bruise was already forming, dark and you could count Ford’s knuckles. Your ex hadn't been gentle and thank God for Stanley's toughness.

You brushed the bruise with your thumb, frowning. Stanley took your wrists in his hands, his own thumbs making circles on your skin trying to comfort you. You smiled and Stanley did the same.

- “Don’t ya worry for me, darling. It'll take more than a single punch to take that old man down.” Stanley said, voice softer than usual.

- “I know, I know. I just hate seeing you hurt.” You whispered and Stanley kissed your hands.

There was a moment of silence, heavy and uncomfortable, while you still took in the situation. So much has happened in so little time, your emotions were all over the place. Ford wasn't helping.

He slowly got up, his right hand still holding his bruised balls. He looked at you then at his twin, realization filling his eyes before between replaced by anger.

- “You gotta be kidding me, Y/N. My own brother? My twin?” He asked, almost spitting the last word.

You felt Stanley flinch and a new wave of anger hit you. You turned your head, facing Ford. He looked at you as if you had betrayed him when he was the one who had caused the wedge between the two of you. Ford had been distant, keeping you at arm's length and always making you feel stupid. Not a single time during your relationship did you feel like he actually loved you.

Ford never told you he loved you.

- “You are in no place to talk. At least Stan had been making me feel loved and never once made me feel stupid.” You said, Stan squeezing your hands. “He never put anything before me, unlike you ignoring me all the time.”

- “Wait a second, what is going on here?” Dipper asked, approaching and putting himself between you and Ford. “Who are you?”

Ford and Dipper shared a look as Stan introduced Ford as the author of the journals. Those damn things that had become an obsession for Stan, were his best and only way to bring Ford back. God you wished Dipper had never found it. Maybe, just maybe, this situation wouldn't be happening.

But Ford was back, something Stan had tried to archive for thirty years. A lifetime of work and he did it. You were proud of your man, of all he had accomplished during those years. You couldn't be mad at Ford for being back, he hadn't asked for what had happened to him.

You took the kids back upstairs, Stan and Ford following behind you. Thankfully they kept quiet until you and the twins were out of earshot, even if you could still hear their muffled voices. Back in their rooms, Mabel and Dipper sat on their bed, staring at you and you sat too, on a chair.

With a deep sigh, you explained everything to the kids. About your short relationship with Ford, how he had worked and studied the weird events in Gravity Falls, about his obsession with them. They were old enough to understand how you weren't happy with Ford and why you left a loveless relationship.

But you came back. Not because you missed him, but because you had learned of Stanley’s death. To your surprise, he wasn't but was impersonating his brother. That point had been harder to explain, but Dipper had caught on quickly; by facking his death and becoming Ford, it was the only way for Stan to try and bring back his twin.

True.

And you helped. Weeks became months and you slowly fell in love with Stanley and his personality. He was more outgoing, and extrovert and didn't make you feel dumb. Quite the contrary as he praised your brain over his. Of course, the time periods played against you and you parted ways.

Stanley married and divorced while you stayed single, never truly finding love again. It wasn't until years later that Gravity Falls called you once more and this time you stayed for good. Not only in town but by Stan’s side too. The day you came back, Stan came to find you with your favourite food and movies, asking for a night with you.

The ambers of your love had never gone cold and that night only started the fire once more. You never left Gravity Falls or Stan after that. You two never married, not because you didn't want to, but because of Ford. You didn't want to marry Stanley while he impersonated his twin.

You heard commotions coming from downstairs and sighed, knowing Stan and Ford definitely were at each other throats. Well, Ford was and Stan might have been defending himself. You left the kids in their room and went down. You frowned hearing Ford’s calm but cold tone as he spoke to Stanley. You gritted your teeth and took a deep breath before entering the living room.

- “I’m giving you until the end of summer, then I want you out.” Ford said, index pointing at his twin’s chest.

- “You are the one that getting out at the end of summer, Ford.” You replied, voice as cold as his. “The shack isn't yours anymore, I bought it fifteen years ago when things went south.”

You crossed your arms, leaning your shoulder against the doorframe. Both men stared at you, a different expression on their faces. Stanley with relieve and Ford with surprise and a bit of anger.

- “What?” Ford asked and you rolled your eyes. “What do you mean?”

- “Do you think the economy stayed the same when you disappeared? The world kept turning, Ford, and so did the economy. Gravity Falls is a tourist town, without tourists there is no money and that is what happened. Thank God I had some savings or you'll still be wherever you were.” You explained, watching Ford walk up to you.

Stanley tried to approach but a simple look from you kept him in place. You weren't scared of Ford, never were, and knew if he tried anything it would be a 2 versus 1 kind of fight.

Ford pointed his finger at you, opened his mouth and closed it before closing his hand. For a second you thought he would try to punch you, but no. You saw his shoulders drop and he looked away. You didn't move, didn't react and kept staring at him.

- “Really? Kicking me out of my own house?” He asked, voice calmer.

- “Stanley’s been living here longer and you were kicking him out, even after he just brought your ass back. Why shouldn't I?” You asked back and Ford said nothing.

There was nothing to say.

Silence filled the room, neither of you speaking anymore. The reunion wasn't going the way you thought. You had hoped Ford would have been happy to see Stanley, or at least to be back. But no. He seemed angry, almost bitter and you didn't know what to think about that.

Tilting your head, you shared a new look with Stanley. Your man had wrapped his arms around himself, like a hug, searching comfort. It hurt to see him like that, especially since Ford was the reason. But it was his eyes that spoke the most; pleading. But for what?

Stanley’s eyes moved from Ford to you then back to Ford, leaving you with more questions. You frowned slightly, trying to convert your questions and Stanley just sighed and looked away. And you understood.

The exchange only lasted seconds, but you were use to communicate like that.

You sighed and shook your head, not believing the things you were ready to do for that man.

- “Listen Ford. If you stop treating Stanley like shit you can stay. We kept your lab functioning so you can stay there if you want. Just tell me the food you'd like me to buy.” You rolled your eyes when Ford’s head turned back to you. “Hey, I’m not heartless. I’m just asking you to be kind to Stan, I won't tolerate you disrespecting him in our own house.”

- “I understand.” Ford replied, his gaze softening, almost getting sad. “So you really got with Stanley, didn't you?”

- “What can I say, Ford? It happened by accident, but I am happy. We are both happy.”

To that, Ford was once again out of words. It was unusual for him to be so quiet, but you knew everything might feel like a slap on his face. So much had happened since he fell through that portal and you weren't giving him time to breathe and take it in before throwing another ball at him. But you knew Ford could take it.

Nothing could hurt or break him, it was as if Ford was made of stone.

But you were wrong.

You saw tears in his eyes before he excused himself. Without a word, he went back to his lab. You sighed, hidding your face in one hand before two strong arms wrapped around you. You melted in Stan’s embrace, resting your head under his chin while he patted your back, whispering loving words in your ears.

You felt tears in your own eyes but swallowed them back. It wasn't time for that, not now, not ever again. Why weren't you over it? It had been over thirty years since you and Ford had been over and you had found peace and happiness with Stan. So why now?

Maybe because you never got closure, you realized. You had left, cursing and shouting and Ford had said nothing and you thought he didn't care. But maybe you were wrong.

Maybe he did care, but never showed it.

Drying your eyes, you looked up and Stan smiled at you, he rested his head against yours, taking your chin between his finger and thumb. And you felt safe. You felt safe and you knew everything was going to be fine.

- “Thanks buttercup, I know I can always count on ya to have my back. But ya don’t need to go to war with ma brother, ya know? He’s going to get around it, always do.” Stan said, voice low as his thumb caressed your chin.

You nodded and closed your eyes for a second before you heard giggling and hushing. Opening your eyes, you turned your head to see Mabel and Dipper picking from the corner of the stairs. You smiled at them weakly, resting your hands on Stan’s chest.

- “Everything’s fine kids, don't worry.” You said, your voice wavering a bit.

- “You sure Grunkle Y/N?” Mabel asked, her head tilting. “You look sad.”

- “I am… I am kid, but it's going to be okay. Today is… heavy for me.” You looked at Stan and he nodded, already knowing what you had in mind.

- “Alright kids, leave Y/N alone for now. He needs to have a private discussion with ma brother. Who wants waffle fries?” He asked, putting his hands on his hips.

- “But Grunkle Stan, we don't have waffle fries.” Dipper pointed out before Stan out his hands on his and Mabel’s shoulders, pushing them away.

- “That's why I’m taking y'all out to buy some!”

You watched them leave, arms wrapped around you, seeking some comfort before facing Ford once more. You leaned against the doorframe once more, bracing yourself for what was to come. Would you get closure or a fight? You hopped you wouldn't have to throw hands, or anything, at Ford, but with the genius it was hard to know.

After a few minutes of collecting yourself, and once you were sure Stan had left with the kids, you went down to the Lab. As much as you hated the damn place, it was so much Ford it almost hurt. Maybe it was why you hated it so much.

You found your ex sitting on a chair, his coat discarded on the ground. You didn't hear it, but you knew he was crying. His shoulders shook and his face was hidden in his hands. The sight made you sad, sadder than you already were. You didn't know Ford had it in him to cry.

Grabbing a spare chair, you walked up to him. Ford said nothing as you say next to him. You stayed silent and so did Ford. It was awkward at best, painful at worst and you didn't know how to make it better. Closing your eyes, you sighed and looked away.

- “I’m sorry for hitting you in the balls, Ford… and that you found out about me and Stan like that.” You mumbled, shaking your head. “And I’m sorry. I've been a dick today, you didn't deserve it.”

- “I did.” Ford whispered, followed by a hiccup as he dried his eyes with the palms of his hands. “I did. I was the asshole.”

You didn't reply, because yeah, he had been. But so were you. You turned your head and looked at Ford. Really looked at him. He wasn't the same, you were wrong about that. He was older, wrinkles had found their way into the corner of his eyes and mouth but so did scars. Little ones were almost invisible by his old and pale they were. It was the same with his hands.

Slowly, like with a wounded animal, you took one of his hands in yours, your thumb brushing over the six knuckles. Ford said nothing, allowing you to do as you pleased.

His hand was still rough and callous like before, but they were older like the rest of Ford’s body. Burn spots had appeared because of his age, and maybe whatever sun he had been under.

You sighed, again, and squeezed his hand.

- “I am sorry.” You repeated like a broken disc. “Fuck, I really was an ass back then and even now.”

- “I deserved…” Ford began, but you shook your head.

- “No, you didn't. You might have been the shittier boyfriend I had, but I should just have broken up with you like a normal human being.” You told him, your eyes staring at his hand.

- “And I shouldn't have taken you for granted. I… am sorry I was so cold and distant, I never realized how bad I was toward you.” Ford admitted, squeezing your hand back. “You deserved better, but I never imagined you'd find that in Stanley.”

- “You should give him a chance, really give him a chance. Stan teacher himself all that crap for you.” You said, waving your hand around. “I barely did anything here, it was all him. Because he loves you, because he felt guilty and wanted you back.”

Again, silence followed.

But this time it wasn't heavy or awkward. You didn't need to look at Ford to know he was thinking about it. After three decades, could he really still be mad at his brother after everything Stan did to get him back? Even you softened toward Ford, so why couldn't he toward his own brother?

Ford’s thumb drew a small circle on your hand and from the corner of your eye, you saw him nod. You did the same.

- “I guess I owe him as much apology as I owe you.” He said, voice so low you barely heard him.

- “Yeah…” Was your only reply.

You tensed for a second when Ford rested his chin against your shoulder but relaxed. There was nothing there, but you weren't used to him being tactile. It was strange, but welcome. You rested your chin on his head, his hair tickling your nose and you almost smiled. It felt good. Like finding something you had lost so long ago.

Tears rolled down your cheeks and you knew Ford was the same when he buried his face in your shoulder. Your ex squeezed your hand almost painfully as silent sobs shook his shoulders. You closed your eyes, wrapping your free hand around yours.

This… this was closure and it hurt more than you thought.

All the what-ifs filled your mind. What if Ford had been kinder, what if he hadn't been so obsessed with his research? What if you two had been healthier and sat to talk?

So many things would have been different. Maybe Ford would have never fallen through the portal. Maybe you'll still be together or not.

You wrapped your arms around him when Ford wrapped his around your waist, whispering “sorry” over and over, his voice muffled by your shirt. It broke your heart knowing he actually felt remorse for how he threatened you. For still loving you when you had found happiness with his twin.

You kept embracing him even when the tears had stopped falling, nose buried in his hair. A part of you feared he would fall back into the portal if you let go of him, even if the said portal was closed. While you had no feelings for him anymore, you couldn't deny you still cared for him. Maybe not as a lover anymore, but as a friend… as a brother-in-law.

He was family, and would always be now.

You stayed a long moment in each other arms, not seeing or feeling time pass. You even almost fell asleep until Ford moved and you two detached. You didn't feel empty but at peace. Silently, you led Ford up, knowing Stan must be back with the kids.

You found them sitting in front of the TV eating their waffle fries while watching one of Stan’s shows. Stan smiled and moved his plate so you could sit next to him on the armchair. Ford walked and sat on the place the kids had gotten him.

You knew you two were a mess and it was obvious you had cried, but no one said a word. Stan wrapped an arm around you, keeping you against him. You relaxed, nuzzling yourself against him before stealing a few of his waffle fries.

Dipper was the first one to break the silence, offering some of his to Ford. Your ex took them and the heaviness in the room dissipated. After that, the twins soon began asking question after question to Ford. Mabel weirder one while Dipper focused on the weird shit happening in Gravity Falls and things he had seen in the journal.

You smiled seeing Ford relax and answer every single one of them.

You shared a look with Stan who smiled at you. He kissed your forehead whispering how everything was going to be fine and you believed him. For once you knew he was serious and were happy.

After thirty years and with the kids here, your home felt completed. It actually felt like a real home. Maybe it was the kids, maybe it was Ford but in reality, it was a mix of everything and you wouldn't have it any other way.

[joicecubes]

this started as a twitter post but it got way too long

i feel. INSANE. ABOUT FIDDLESTAN YOU GUYS. i’ll admit i didn’t get it at first, like the original concept seems kinda bonkers, they never interact! what a silly rarepair! BUT NO. I SAW A SINGLE PIECE OF FANART AND IT WAS OVER FOR ME. IM HOOKED. im sorry i need to talk about them

my favorite set-up for fiddlestan, and the one i see most people going with, is the idea that fiddleford comes back to ford’s house after ford’s already been sucked through the portal, so he finds stan instead. and thats like such perfect/devastating (depending on how you look at it) timing because their wounds from ford are both so raw.

i feel like this is gonna get long so. gay rambling under the cut

on the one hand, they get from each other what they never got from ford. or at least, what they lost from ford. fiddleford wants love, he wants his unwavering devotion to ford to be reciprocated. and stan, being such a deeply lonely person, can give him that! what he wants is companionship. he wants a friend, like what he had in his brother. he wants forgiveness. and god, fiddleford is one of the kindest, most forgiving characters in the show. if anyone will see where stan is coming from, if anyone can extend forgiveness and understanding where ford fell flat, it’s fiddleford.

and while this exemplifies just how deeply they would need each other in this scenario, when you think about how tightly they both clung to ford, there presents a very real possibility that one or both of them would feel like ford’s replacement.

stan is ford’s twin. people have played with the idea that fiddleford would see a lot ford in stan, even though they may not be very similar in demeanor. they look the same. and deep down, they do have similarities. alex hirsch said in a dvd commentary that there is more of ford in stan than he even realizes, and fiddleford would probably see that. not to mention just how deeply he would miss him.

and when stan has always felt like a worse version of ford, you can imagine he might feel like a stand-in, especially as him and fiddleford get closer. fiddleford, whether he means to or not, would definitely see his best friend in stan. he has his face for god’s sake!! and would stan just accept it? would he be upset to be seen in this light, to act as a replacement, or would he accept that he’ll always be second to ford? either way is just. DEVASTATING. for fiddleford to unintentionally confirm all of stan’s deepest fears and insecurities…

and then there’s what fiddleford is to stan. while i don’t think fiddleford would feel as deeply a replacement as stan does, he IS a big fucking nerd. and stan probably begged him for help getting ford back when he found out that fiddleford is not only a scientist, but worked on the portal in the first place. and he of course wants ford back too, but it wouldn’t surprise me if fiddleford ends up feeling like stan only keeps him around for that purpose and that purpose alone. to learn more about ford, to live vicariously through him as ford’s best friend. because stan is desperate to know more about him, to satiate this need, this wound of missing his brother for over a decade.

god and all the little things too… fiddleford being riddled with anxiety and stan being able to ground him, to knock some much-needed sense into him the next time he wants to pick up that memory gun. stan struggling to take care of himself, to see his own self worth, and fiddleford being there to make sure he eats enough food, reminds him to shower, helps wash or cut his unkempt hair. falling asleep holding each other, because they need that comfort, that warmth, that heartbeat, to feel okay enough to rest.

ugh you could do sooo much with these bitches it drives me up the wall. i feel so unwell just thinking about them. i could yap even more but i’ll keep that for another post

[ur-fav-inactive-writer]

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤

Pines family x platonic!reader

WC: 1109

Requested by: @kiyomi-uchiha777

Request: what if Bill because this dude is a psycho kills of sister reader after someone or something that made him angry. And what would be the reaction of the characters. Especially when being protective siblings before now losingey little sister

A/N: holy crap I haven't written anything in AGES, anyway, hope you enjoy this, also this will stray from canon a bit but ill try keep it as accurate as possible x

~*~*~*~*~

Bill held you tightly in-between his fingers, Mabel and Dipper clutched tightly in his others. You writhed and struggled but could not free yourself. You heard the desperate pleas of your great-uncles below you. You and your younger siblings attempted to free yourselves but the harder you tried to escape from Bill's grasp, the tighter he held onto you. Eventually, you and your siblings came to the realisation that you were not going to be freed without Bill freeing you himself. Your heart raced, your thoughts ran wild, your body was shaking intensely. The sound of your breathing picking up was only known to you, the shouts of your uncles drowning it out. Every sound inside your head came to an abrupt halt when the booming voice that belonged to Bill sounded throughout the room.

"I've got the kids~~~"

His voice had a hint of teasing to it, it made you feel nauseous. The look of horror that flashed across your uncles' faces caused hot tears to well up in your eyes.

"I think im gonna kill one of them now, just for the heck of it!"

The last part of that sentence seemed to cause time to stop. No, he couldn't do that, could he? The horrifying realisation hit you, at least one of the Pines' children would be dead in less than a minutes time.

No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No

Surely, he's just bluffing? He's trying to scare us, right? Your head whipped around to look at your dear brother and sister. Their expressions mirrored yours exactly.

None of you could live without one another. Especially the twins, how would Mabel be able to live without her twin brother there to warn and protect her from dangers she was too naïve to spot? How would Dipper live without his twin sister there to remind him to not overwork himself, to live in a better way? No, neither of them could live like that. But, could they live without you?

You squinted your eyes when a blinding, red light flashed throughout the room. The source of it was Bill's eye.

"Eeny. Meenie. Miny."

Symbols flashed each time a word fell from his mouth, each representing you and your siblings. First, a pine tree. Second, a shooting star. Thirdly, an angel. You were given the angel as your symbol since you were seen as the guardian angel of your siblings.

Perhaps that's why he stopped on you.

Symbols were no longer flashing, one stayed. The guardian angel. He was going to kill you. In less than a minute, you would be dead. You had no time to react before Bill snapped his finger and then,

you were dead.

~*~*~*~

Mabel and Dipper were dropped to the floor, along with your lifeless corpse. The sound of Stan and Ford's shouts rang throughout the room. Once they had recovered from the fall, Mabel and Dipper rushed to your body. Your eyes were closed, you looked so peaceful, so perfect. How could you look so perfect in a situation where its so far from perfect? Sobs fell from Mabels lips, throwing herself onto your body. Her big sister, gone forever. Dipper fell to his knees, too shocked to formulate a sentence or even a reaction. His face was blank as his chest rise and fell faster and faster, his breathing picking up rapidly. Screams and cries from Stan and Ford echoed around the room as their cage disappeared. They ran over to you faster than ever, falling to their knees the same way Dipper had.

No. No. No. How could he do such a thing? Why, why her? Why not Ford? Why not Stan? Why (Y/N)? Suddenly, a group of the townsfolk burst through the entrance, Bill too busy laughing at the sorrow he caused to notice such things. Fiddleford held the Quantum Distabiliser and fired it at Bill. Bill's form evaporated as all the weirdness surrounding everybody disappeared with Bill too. Everything was back to normal. Except, (Y/N) was gone.

The Pines' family found themselves in the woods. They ran, ran, and ran until they found your body. You were laying in a meadow, flowers surrounding your corpse, almost poetically. They fell beside your body and stared.

How could they possibly tell your parents their sweet, beloved daughter was just gone? How can they continue on, knowing that you're never going to come back? Knowing that they will never get to spend another moment in your lively presence? All they could do was cry, cry, cry.

~*~*~*~

Weeks had passed and your parents had come to Gravity Falls for your funeral. They saw it fitting you be buried here, where you spent the best summer of your life. The whole town had come in support. They hosted the funeral in that same meadow they found you in. Due to the grief, when they found you, the fact that you loved this meadow and went there almost daily slipped their mind. They found a swing you had crafted yourself on one of your trips here and surrounded it with flowers.

They buried you in that same spot they found you in, the same spot where they found you laying there with such a peaceful expression it almost made everything seem okay again.

After the funeral, the twins would visit that same spot constantly. Mabel would lay next to where you were buried and ramble about all her troubles for hours, knowing you'd be listening. Dipper would sit on the other side and write in his journal. After your passing, he had almost dedicated his journal to you. About how pretty, smart, caring and amazing you were in your life. Once he had finished his first journal about you, he dug up a small hole a few feet above where your coffin laid, and buried it there. To Dipper, he believed that burying it there would almost be like gifting it to you in the afterlife.

~*~*~*~*~

It had been years since your passing, all the Pines' still missed you dearly though. Not a day went by when they didn't think of you and your kind heart. Stan laid in his hospital bed, his health had been declining over those past few months. Mabel and Dipper sat beside him, the same way they did when you had died. He was dying, fast. They cried as they said their goodbyes, knowing he'd be gone soon. He assured them they'd be okay before taking his last breath. He reopened his eyes, looking towards the twins. Why couldn't they see him with his eyes open? Why were they still crying?

As he wondered these things, he saw a pale blue light in the corner, it was you.

"Long time no see Grunkle Stan."

~*~*~*~

A/N: SOBBING RN. also sorry if this isn't that great, i haven't written anything in a while but I still hope you enjoy! xx

[obwjam]

a small surprise (gravity falls g/t!)

aka when you fall back down the gravity falls rabbit hole and before you know it you're brainstorming every possible g/t idea...

and then you end up with something like this: ford's borrower friend is left alone and confused when a mysterious force jolts them awake one night... and discovers that the author of the journals has a mysterious twin brother

s/o to @pocket-lad for all the ramblings about giant stans and for fostering this idea with me -- check out their take on this!!

part 2

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

Jay had never felt tremors like this before.

She thought the earth was about to split open and swallow her whole with how intensely her world shook. Of course she had felt earthquakes before – or what she thought were earthquakes. Ford had tried to explain it a million times, and Jay pretended to get it around explanation No. 837,382 so she wouldn’t have to hear it anymore.

But that was ages ago. Ford had gotten pretty much impossible to talk to after the whole triangle worshiping thing, and after Fiddleford quit, the house had fallen into an intense state of disrepair. Jay still lived here, of course, because it was warm and safe and Ford still remembered to leave food and water out for her. But anytime she tried to talk to him, he would look at her like he was hallucinating. He probably was.

It had been a few weeks since the two had actually spoken face to face. She felt uncomfortable trying to get through to someone who clearly wasn’t himself anymore. But this – earthquake, whatever it was – was enough to scare her to the point where she was afraid of being alone. She at least had to ask Ford what had happened; even if he was delusional most of the time, she knew him well enough that she could glean some sort of answer from his ramblings.

Careful not to trip over fallen objects, Jay made her way from her little hiding spot upstairs to the small pulley system Ford helped her construct to get down to the bunker. That had taken a lot of convincing, since Ford didn’t understand why he couldn’t just carry her down with him every time – “It’s much more practical!” he would say, dramatically pointing his finger up in the air – but she eventually persuaded him because he liked a challenge. It worked just as lowering a bucket into a well did, a simple enough mechanism that Jay could use herself no matter what. Ford was always fascinated by her raw strength.

The house was dark and quiet – nothing new – but there was an eerie feeling in the air that Jay just couldn’t shake. Something felt�� wrong. Ford’s presence was easily felt, and Jay couldn’t sense him anywhere. The only sound was the snowstorm battering against the thin glass windows, making the wood creak and shake but nothing more. With one hand, Jay clutched the sewing needle that served as her protection. The other was pressed behind her back, ready to fend off anything from behind. It didn’t make her feel much better.

“What did you do now, Ford…” Jay muttered to herself, eyes darting left and right. It was hard to make out much of anything, but the usual controlled chaos of the main floor felt skewed, and it was clear to see from up on the table. Maybe once she got to her makeshift elevator, she’d start to feel better.

But she stopped short of the bunker’s entrance, because a sudden noise scared the living daylights out of her. She flung her needle forward, but nothing was in her immediate vicinity. She cautiously lowered the weapon, and it didn’t take long for her eyes to find the source. Standing in the center of the main room, staring intently at the journal like it was his last remaining possession on Earth, was…

“Ford?”

Ford froze, stiff as a board. Jay swallowed the lump in her throat. He was probably pissed at her.

“Ford…” Jay paused. She didn’t really think about what she would say if – when – she finally saw him. “What–what happened? Is everything okay? It’s–”

She was cut off abruptly when Ford turned around, and Jay’s stomach dropped so fast she thought it might take her through the floor. He – this man – he had Ford’s face, but this was not him. The hair was all wrong (he had a mullet, for Christ’s sake). The posture. The clothes. The look in his glasses-less eyes as he stared right at her. This wasn’t him. Jay was baffled. Did he do something to himself? Is this just what he looked like now? Could he really have changed that much in a few weeks?

Not-Ford blinked, then blinked again. His mouth hung slightly agape, and his eyes were blown wide. He looked dirty and tired, but most pressing, he looked mad. Mad at Jay.

“What the…” 

Not-Ford’s gruff, hoarse voice was the final nail in the coffin. Ford didn’t sound like that. Even when he was losing his mind, he spoke with a surprising amount of authority. He was just like that. This man… he sounded lost.

The reality of the situation hit Jay like a freight train. Slowly, she held her hands up and began to back away, like she was retreating from an animal. Whether this was some weird, alternate version of Ford or a complete stranger, it didn’t change the fact that she was being seen.

Jay was quick. Not-Ford was quicker.

At a blinding speed that Jay would never get used to from humans, Not-Ford had grabbed a jar from an adjacent table and slammed it on top of her, eliciting a very high-pitched scream. She jumped when a piece of paper replaced the wood of the table underneath her feet, and in just a few seconds, her world turned upside down. Literally. She was flipped to the bottom of the jar as Not-Ford brought her shaking form up to eye level.

“What the hell are you?” That rough voice was distorted through thick glass, but still terrifying. “And what the hell do you know about my brother?”

Jay almost choked. Brother? Ford had never mentioned a brother.

“Wh–who–where’s Ford?” Jay barely had the courage to speak.

“Oh, it talks,” Not-Ford sounded intrigued for a moment. “What, are you one of his experiments gone wrong? You’re so… tiny.”

Jay opened her mouth to respond, but her words died in her throat when Not-Ford – Ford’s brother, apparently – tilted the jar to the side, causing her to fall to the side with an unceremonious oof. He was observing her, like some caged animal. She tried to regain her footing, but failed miserably each time. Her legs felt like they were still stuck in those tremors. She wanted to yell at him to stop, but she could barely get air in her lungs as she was swirled around like water going down a drain. 

“Huh,” Not-Ford said, going still after what felt like a million years. “Did my brother do this to you?”

Jay stumbled and tilted her head. “Do–do what?”

“What do you mean, do what. Make you tiny.”

“Make me – no, he didn’t make me tiny,” Jay shot back, almost insulted. She felt the anger boil up inside of her when Not-Ford almost smiled.

“Oh, man, you really got the short end of the stick, then. Literally.”

Despite herself, Jay rolled her eyes. Height jokes. Very original.

“L–look, I don’t know who you are, but–”

“Can it, pipsqueak!” Jay actually had to cover her ears at the sheer volume of his voice. “I’m asking the questions here. Did you help him with this – portal thing?”

The portal. The tremors. Jay’s eyes widened. No. He didn’t…

Ford’s brother evidently understood her look of recognition. “Ah, so you do know about it. Well, you’re gonna help me fix it.”

“Wh–” Jay didn’t get a chance to speak as he swung the jar to his side. She flew into the side, and she tried to ignore the way her arm crunched under the pressure. The world whizzed by underneath her feet, and she could barely keep her balance with the way Not-Ford was lumbering around. Looks like she was getting a ride down to the bunker after all.

Jay’s mind raced with ways she could get herself out of this. As badly as she wanted to figure out what happened to Ford, she didn’t care to have this guy help her. She could easily find Ford by herself. Maybe she could try to find Fiddleford, too, but for all Jay knew, he was halfway across the world at this point, so that was probably a fruitless effort. He was very adamant about quitting when he left that night, which always made Jay sad whenever she thought about it. She sorely missed his calm demeanor and gentleness with her. She liked spending time with Ford, but at the end of the day, he had a tendency to regard her as some kind of scientific marvel, not a fully functioning person. Fiddleford never seemed to care. He just wanted to make sure she was safe and happy.

A harsh jolt brought Jay back to reality. Oh. Right. Not-Ford. Ford’s crazy brother. It had taken her a bit to notice, but Not-Ford’s hands were shaking. And the anger… it didn’t seem like he was mad at her. That made no sense; the only crime she was guilty of was knowing Ford. But the way he spoke about Ford – like he wasn’t here right now – and how the portal needed fixing, and he wanted help doing it… what exactly happened?

“Stupid secret bunker… stupid portal… stupid brother…” Not-Ford muttered. He was glancing behind him, as if Ford would pop out at any moment and yell surprise!

Not-Ford definitely got discombobulated, but he eventually found his way back to the control room. He threw the jar onto the main control panel, and Jay shut her eyes, hoping the sensation of moving would fade away quickly.

“Alright, short stuff,” Not-Ford said gruffly, slamming a journal in front of her. “Tell me how to turn this thing on.”

Jay started blankly at the journal. It wasn’t even opened to the correct section, and she could barely see over the horizon of the pages.

Not-Ford grunted. “Well, what are you waiting for?” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Tiny people can read, right?”

“Wh–what makes you think I can do anything?” Jay managed to choke out. It had worked on Ford when they first met; using her diminutive size to her advantage. She had wriggled out of so many things she didn’t want to do by playing the useless card. 

Ford’s brother stopped. He abruptly grabbed the jar, lifting it up to his dirty, unhappy face. Jay gasped and inched back until her head softly hit the glass. Through the distortion of her clear prison, it looked like he was actually considering her words. If he was anything like Ford, it would work.

He was nothing like Ford.

“Heh, if you want to weasel your way out of this, you’re gonna have to try harder, tiny,” he smirked, placing the jar back in front of the journal. 

Jay shook her head in disbelief. “But – what –” she paused. Trying to reason with him wouldn’t work. This guy clearly didn’t work like that. With wide eyes and trembling hands, Jay considered her next move. Her primary goal of getting the hell out of this jar didn’t seem like it was going to happen anytime soon, and he obviously wasn't going to fall for a sob story. She could help him, but based on the way he’s been acting, he’d probably put her in a closet and forget about her as quickly as he found her. She looked up, trying to read Not-Ford through the warped glass. His hands were tightly wrapped around his waist, and his eyes darted nervously at every little sound. His demeanor didn’t match his tough-guy attitude one bit.

A lightbulb went off in Jay’s head: He’s desperate. And she could use that to her advantage.

“I’ll help you if you tell me what happened,” she said, sounding way less assertive than she wanted to. Not-Ford regarded her in something of a condescending curiosity before bursting out into laughter. Jay felt the heat rush to her cheeks. Why was he laughing? What was so funny? Oh, she shouldn’t have tried to play tough. She was in no position to negotiate.

“Trying to do this my way, huh?” Not-Ford leaned back in his seat. “Alright, I’ll play along.”

Jay was stunned silent.

“Go ahead, ask me what you wanna know. But don’t think about trying to be slick, because I have no problem shaking you around like a martini.”

It took her a second to gather her thoughts. She wasn’t planning on conning him, because she knew the consequences, but it was interesting that Not-Ford defaulted to assuming the worst. There were a million things she wanted – needed – to ask, but he was volatile. She had to tread carefully. So she started simple.

“Wh… what’s your name? And are you really… Ford’s brother?”

“Name’s Stanley,” he said, brushing some loose hair from his face. “And yeah, Poindexter's my brother. We’re twins.”

“Twins…” Jay repeated. That’s why they looked identical, even down to their names. But why would Ford never say anything about it? “I… Ford never mentioned anything about having a twin.”

Stanley laughed. “Yeah, that’s not surprising. We haven’t seen each other in years. He was probably tryin’ to pretend I didn’t exist.”

Jay frowned. Stanley sounded miserable saying that out loud, and she didn’t need to ask to know what that meant. 

“And what are you supposed to be? Some kind of fairy or something? I know Ford was into weird stuff, but this is just unnatural.”

Jay crossed her arms. “I’m a borrower.”

Stanley blinked. “You say that like I’m supposed to know what that is.”

“Well, it’s what… I am,” Jay said, gesturing to herself.

“Okay… so, what? You were Ford’s pet or something?”

“I was not – no!” Jay cried as that familiar sinking feeling entered her stomach. She was not about to do this again right now. “I am not a pet!”

“Okay, okay, yeesh,” Stanley said, throwing his hands up. “Sore subject, I see.”

“We were… friends,” Jay said cautiously. “He respected me. I think.”

“You think?” Stanley laughed. “Oh, I’m sure he did. He loves listening to other people. Especially when they’re the size of a doll.”

Jay felt the tears welling up in her eyes, but pushed past it. There were more pressing matters at hand than her feelings. “Where… where is Ford? What happened?”

Stanley froze, like all his bodily control was stolen from him. For a moment, he stared off into the distance, something flashing before his eyes that only he could see. If Jay didn’t know any better, she’d almost say he looked… embarrassed.

“I – he – we got into a fight,” Stanley said, hanging his head a bit. “One second, he was here, and the next, some wacky machine turns on and he’s bein’ pulled right into it! And I can’t get it back on, because in case you haven’t noticed, I’m the handsome twin, not the nerdy twin. So either you help me get this thing back on or I’ll–”

“Wait wait wait. He went through?”

“What, are your tiny ears incapable of hearing? That's what I just said!” Stanley cried.

Jay felt like she was going to throw up. Fiddleford walked out on site from what he saw inside that portal, and Ford went mad trying to make sure it was never used again. If he got pulled through…

“...he might not even be alive,” Jay whispered, her voice trembling as violently as her body. 

Stanley leaned in, causing Jay to recoil. “What? You’re gonna have to talk louder than that, pipsqueak. I can barely hear you.”

“I said HE MIGHT BE DEAD!”

For a moment, Stanley’s face remained stoic. But it soon twisted into a cocktail of sadness, rage and annoyance, his eyes practically glowing red, staring straight through Jay’s soul.

Jay tensed up. Maybe that was a bad idea.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing. F-forget I said anything,” Jay stammered, holding her hands up. She retreated – as if there was anywhere she could go. Stanley could kill her in 10,000 different ways, and she didn’t even want to speculate about any of them.

But instead of taking the jar, Stanley just sighed. “That’s right, tiny. I don’t wanna hear any of that. My brother may be the biggest pain in the ass I’ve ever known, but he is one tough son of a bitch and there is no way some – stupid gadget killed him!”

Jay opened her mouth, but stopped. Something piqued her interest.

“How… how much do you know about the portal?”

Stanley glared at her. “Nothing. That’s why I’ve resorted to asking some half-baked person to help me.”

“No, I mean… did Ford tell you anything about what it does?”

“Yeah,” Stanley said, though he sounded unsure. “Something about a universal gateway into unfathomable knowledge, blah blah, boring nerd stuff. Look, it doesn’t matter, just – tell me how to get it back on already, will ya?!”

“I don’t–!” Jay started to yell, but she took a breath. She couldn’t lose her cool. “I was here – around – I would watch when Ford and Fidds were working on it, but it’s not like I understood any of it.” Jay shut her eyes, waiting for blowback, some kind of retaliation. But it never came. Stanley just stared at her, eyes shaking. “Besides, if you only have one journal, you can’t… Ford wrote three journals, see, and they have to be combined to build it. Sort of a failsafe thing. Do you have the others?”

Stanley shook his head. “He told me he buried them or something. He didn’t want to turn that thing back on, I – I don’t even know what happened.”

There was a long stretch of silence after that. The two of them just stared at each other, unmoving. It was hard for Jay to put all the pieces together based on the limited useful information Ford told her after Fidds quit, but one thing was crystal clear – that portal should be shut down at all costs. Ford kept saying he was tricked, and using the portal again would destroy the universe. Jay believed him, too, because the kind of stuff he got himself into always seemed bigger than themselves. If Ford actually was taken through the portal, then that means it was turned on… and the universe was still here. No mass destruction, no end of humanity, no triangles. Everything seemed to be okay… except for the noticeable lack of Ford.

Ford. The first human she had ever talked to; one of the only beings on earth she considered to be her friend. Sure, he was obsessive, invasive and sometimes lacked humanity… but he was also protective, curious and caring of her. Jay hadn’t had to hunt for food in a year. She had unlimited access to cold, clean water. The worst thing she had to endure was Ford’s endless stream of questions and experiments, but it was a trade she’d make 100 times out of 100 if it meant sustenance, shelter and safety for the rest of her life. 

Above all, Ford trusted her. He would let her watch other experiments, take her on trips, and even contribute to brainstorming sessions. She would listen quietly as Ford and Fidds reminisced about their Backupsmore days and the things they would do to change the world. She felt part of it all. Ford made her feel part of it all.

So what would he want her to do, right now, in this moment? He would never want to put himself above the safety of humanity; not once he found out what Bill was really up to. He would rather spend a thousand years in another dimension than risk the safety of this one. Maybe the portal didn’t do anything this time, but would they be so lucky again? Something told her no. Maybe there was a reason Ford didn’t talk to his brother anymore. Maybe he was just reckless. With Fidds and Ford both gone now… it really was up to her to keep everyone safe.

Jay sighed, realizing she needed to say something before Stanley shook her around again. “Look, even if I – even if I wanted to, you need those other journals, and I – I don’t really understand all that mechanical stuff. I’m… I’m sorry, Stanley. I don’t know how to turn it back on.”

Stanley said nothing. Jay gulped. Oh, boy, he was mad.

“I – I just mean – I can’t –”

“What do you mean, even if you wanted to?”

Jay paused. The temperature in the room seemed to drop 20 degrees. “I– well–”

“My brother is trapped on the other side of some – some – some inter-dimensional weirdness, and you don’t even want to get him back?”

“That’s not – I didn’t mean –”

But she didn’t get to finish her sentence as Stanley grabbed the jar off the table, throwing Jay to the back of the glass again. “Listen to this, tiny! I don’t care what some half-pint wants! He’s my family! And if you’re not going to help me get him back, then – then you’re useless to me!”

“Wait, Stanley, come on, I –”

“And stop saying my name as if we’re on the same level here! You’re just some – some – some thing my brother happened to find interesting. You don’t know anything about Ford!”

“You’re one to talk, considering I’ve spent more time with him in the last year than you have for the last 10!”

All the oxygen in the room seemed to evaporate. Jay didn’t mean to say that, not really – sure, it’s how she felt, but she didn’t want to say it out loud. Maybe Stanley didn’t hear her. Maybe he wouldn’t even care. Maybe he’d just say you’re right and come to his senses.

Maybe not.

It was perhaps scarier that Stanley didn’t say anything in response. Instead, he simply blinked a few times, took a few breaths, then got moving. 

He didn’t know where he was going, just that he wanted to be anywhere but here right now, talking to anyone but – but – damn it, he didn’t even know her name. It didn’t matter. This stupid little thing was right about one thing – she’d spoken to his brother more in the last week than he had for a decade. What did Stan do to deserve this? Just because he broke his dumb brother’s dumb science project back in high school? And just when he was hopeful Ford was ready to turn the page, they got right back into it – and now he was gone, with no way to come back.

He glanced down at the impossibly small figure in the jar. How was this even possible? He didn’t think any of that fairy tale folk junk was real. And Ford would befriend it, too. They probably forged some weird bond over being weird. 

Deep down, Stan felt bad. He barely knew this little guy, and he didn’t really have a right to keep them trapped. But right now, he was pissed off and feeling irrational. The more he stared at this tiny being, the more it reminded him of everything he lost with Ford.

So he found the highest shelf and stuck the jar up there.

“HEY! ARE YOU KIDDING ME! HEY!!!” Jay kicked at the glass, as if that would do anything. “YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME UP HERE!”

“I can do whatever the hell I want, pipsqueak,” Stanley mumbled, not even bothering to look her in the eye. In an instant, he was gone, head down and hands shoved in his pockets. He had work to do.

“STANLEY!!!!” Jay gave it one more try, but it was no use. Okay, don’t panic. You’ve been in worse situations. Maybe I can just push the glass off the shelf. Jay slammed her body onto the side of the jar until she became numb. It barely moved an inch. Okay, maybe if I… no, that won’t work. Or I can… no, that won’t do either. What if… if… if…

“If,” Jay sighed out loud, her legs crumbling beneath her. She was trapped. Stanley wasn’t coming back to let her out. Ford wasn’t coming back at all. She would die here. What first, starvation? Dehydration? Oxygen deprivation? It was all the same to her at this point.

Truthfully, she didn’t know how much time passed. The low light of the bunker was the same any time of day, and she never saw Stanley pass by, so either it had only been a few hours or Stanley was working nonstop for days. The whirlwind of everything had finally caught up to her, and the cool glass of the jar felt nice when she laid down and stretched her body out. There’s not much I can do right now. I’ll think of something later…

The second she closed her eyes, she passed out.

[radioisntdead]

Grunkle…. Ford…. Dinner date……………

HAPPY [slightly belated] BIRTHDAY MY DEAREST MOONY! I HOPE YOU HAD A WONDERFUL DAY, YOU CAN LEGALLY DATE FORD NOW [please don't] OR GET ARRESTED AND I'M SORRY THIS WAS DELAYED! LOVE YOU!

Dinner date at Greasy's

Ford x reader

Song used

First date Headcanons + established relationship songfic drabble

Warnings: This is my first time writing for Ford so please forgive any OOC-ness

Well aren't you a lucky duckling! You got a date with one of the most desired old men in gravity falls!

Thank his grandniece Mabel for pushing him to ask you out because now the two of you were on a date! There weren't many fine dining restaurants in gravity falls and the ones that were around Stan had gotten himself, and by extension Ford, banned from them!

Dude's last uh, romantic?? Obsessive??Relationship didn't really end well, but you weren't a triangle with one eye so hopefully things will go well!

Since this is your first date, He got coached on what to do by Mabel and likely has an earpiece where the twins are watching him, giving advice and judging him.

He pulled out the chair for you to sit in, very demure, very mindful, very gentlemanly, very Mabel approved.

I imagine the two of you bond over the oddities of gravity falls, Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons or science-y stuff

He'd tell you about his adventures with his brother on the Stano'war, I imagine he's the type to have pictures of his family in his wallet so dude just whips out pictures of Dipper and Mabel like "These are my grandniece and nephew,''

I imagine you share a dessert with him, one plate two spoons, very romantic!

You were giddy, legs kicking softly back and forth underneath the table as you stared at your boyfriend reading his menu, trying to figure out what he wanted.

Moon, a hole of light

Through the big top tent up high

Here before and after me

Shinin' down on me

Stanford Pines, the handsomest man in town, in your opinion anyway, and you were just so lucky to have him all to yourself, you had been with him for awhile now, you remember when he first asked you out,

He was shoved in front of you by his grandniece, Mabel, with flowers in his hand he finally asked you out on a date to greasy's diner!

And here you were nearly a year or so later back at the diner.

Moon, tell me if I could

Send up my heart to you?

So, when I die, which I must do

Could it shine down here with you?

You laid your head in your hand as you watched him, you were like a lovesick newlywed despite not being married to the man, not yet at least.

'Cause my love is mine, all mine

I love mine, mine, mine

Eventually Lazy Susan came by to take your orders, you loved his voice as he spoke, you loved the way his eyes crinkled, you loved the crack in his glasses that you wondered why he hasn't replaced them yet, you loved the way he wore a trench coat over a sweater no matter the weather, you loved the way he was outdated on modern technology like a silly old man.

Nothing in the world belongs to me

But my love, mine, all mine, all mine

Once Susan had taken away the menus he set his hand on the table in which you immediately decided to interlace your hand with his, holding it as you waited for your food to arrive.

It was like something out of a cheesy movie.

My baby here on Earth

Showed me what my heart was worth

Ford was lucky to have you, Wonderful, intelligent, beautiful you!

He never thought he'd have someone like you, he never had the best experiences with romance wether that be getting rejected by a girl at prom several decades ago or a weird toxic situationship with a yellow triangle.

But now he had you! You were healthy for him, the two of you were healthy for each other, you didn't mind when he rambled on about whatever, whether that be Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons or his sciencey inventions, his adventures through the dimensions or even just his day.

And he was the same way, oh how he could listen to your lovely voice for hours upon hours, like music, it didn't matter what you spoke about, whether it was just about your day, whether you were complaining about something, anything really he adored listening to you, he loved the little spark in your eyes when you talk about something you really like.

So, when it comes to be my turn

Could you shine it down here for her?

He loved watching you as you do whatever hobbies you did, he thrived in the times where he'd do his work in one side of the room and you were on the other side doing just anything, just silently enjoying each other's company.

Was that extremely cheesy of him to think? Most definitely but a little bit of cheesey-ness never hurt anybody, unless you were lactose intolerant.

'Cause my love is mine, all mine

I love mine, mine, mine

Soon Susan returned with your meals, placing them in front of the two of you, you let go of his hand to begin digging into your meal, Ford frowned at the lack of hand holding for a moment before going to dig into his own meal, He would never admit that he was a little touch starved, yearning for touch, hugs or handholding were his personal favorites.

But he was a grown man, he could wait until the two of you returned home to wrap you in a warm embrace.

Nothing in the world belongs to me

But my love, mine, all mine

For now He'd enjoy your date, admiring you as you admired him like the lovesick fools the two of you were, He was glad to have you, and you were glad to have him.

Nothing in the world is mine for free

But my love, mine, all mine, all mine

Good evenin' folks! I do hope you enjoyed my first gravity falls fic, wish Moony a happy birthday and as always thank you for tunin' on in, I hope you all have a wonderful night!

[aceistheplace86]

What if

//Stan Pines having a crush on you, but never getting to admit it.

You and Stan had been inseparable since elementary school when you guys met. He convinced you he could do the monkey bars faster than you, but promptly fell on his face while running over to the set.

You two only getting closer as you got older. Now you guys were nearing the end of high school and neither one had admitted their feelings to each other. Yet they both had to Ford.

You always confided in Ford about your feelings towards his twin brother and he always urged you to tell him. You always backed out.

Tonight was no different. Stan was lying in bed staring at the ceiling while his brother sat at his desk writing in his notebook. He sighed heavily and looked over at his twin “Do you think I’m being stupid?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific,” he said in a playful manner

“Ha Ha” Stan said sarcastically “No but I mean, with not telling Y/N how I feel?”

Ford paused for a second. “A little bit”

“What if I get the chance to say how I feel and I mess it all up?” his voice was quiet

“Remember a few years ago when you asked me, ‘What if I don’t find someone to love’? Well, now you’ve got the biggest crush on Y/N that I’ve ever seen. So why not try?”

Stan thought for a moment. What if love just wasn’t for him? He was historically heartbroken, girls weren’t flocking to him, and when he did get a date, they never lasted long.

No one could really tell because he always tried to play it cool around everyone, his parents, the kids at school, even his own brother. There were rare moments, like tonight when only Ford got to see how lonely he felt.

He always felt like he was drowning in his own emotions, always just one minute from breaking down. He tried ways to keep himself distracted, like boxing, and adventures with his brother. But as they get older, the adventures seem few and far between.

But his time with Y/N made all of his anxieties about being alone for the rest of his life vanish. He enjoyed their time together, he felt like he could be himself. He didn’t feel like he had to be some fake version of himself to be loved, he didn’t have to put on an act. He didn’t feel like the dumb twin.

He shifted his focus back to the ceiling “What if I don’t deserve it?”

Ford didn’t respond. He stared blankly down at his notebook. He had no answer. He knew Stan deserved love, deserved a partner for life. How could he tell him that? He wouldn’t listen, nor would he really believe him. “What if you do?”

Months had gone by, and Stan made no advances to telling Y/N how he felt. Until today, he knew Y/N was out of town for a few days so it gave him time to prepare what he wanted to say. He paced the living room trying his hardest to not make it sound cheesy. He wanted Ford to come home from the science fair so that he could talk strategy with him. Ford wasn’t great at girl talk but he could at least keep Stan from making a fool of himself.

Just then, Ford stormed into the house. Slamming the door behind him.

“Sixer! Just in time, I’m trying to figure out what to say to Y/N” He says sheepishly “Want to help me?”

“Help you? Why would I want to help you!” He says showing his twin the bag of Toffee Peanuts. “Explain this Stanley”

Stan stared at the bag quickly remembering what happened. “I-I didn’t mean it Ford” He had learned that Ford might go to some fancy school, but he wasn’t ready for him to leave. Ford was the one person he could count on. There was no guarantee that Y/N liked him back, but he would always have his brother. The next thing he knew he was leaving the school after covering Ford’s, probably fine, project

“I was messing around and I accidentally-“

“This was no accident, Stanley! You did this! You did this because you couldn’t handle me going to college on my own!” He shoved him “You sabotaged my entire future!”

“You did what?” His father appeared and grabbed him by his collar

“I-It was a mistake!” Stan pleaded, there was no chance. He got thrown outside landing hard on the ground.

“You are not welcome in this household until you make this family millions!” His father threw a duffle bag at him.

Stan stared at the bag, briefly wondering why his father already had a bag packed, before looking up at the window to Ford. “What?! Stanford, tell him he is being ridiculous!”

Ford looks at the West Coast Tech pamphlet their family was given the other day before he closes his curtains.

“Stanford? Don't leave me hangin'. High six? His father slams the pawn shop's front door in his son's face. He stared at the now-closed door and tried to get his mind straight. He didn’t have anywhere to go. He was losing ahold of things fast.

He wouldn’t be able to go to Y/N’s house like he did when things felt a little too confusing.

 Y/N. He wouldn’t be able to say goodbye, and there was no way he was sticking around here and risking possibly running into his father. He looked up at the window one more time “Please Ford, will you at least tell Y/N how I feel?”

Stan looks sadly at the window before he straightens his posture and hardens his look. “I can make it on my own!” he mumbled climbing into his car and speeding off.

Stan decided he wouldn’t show his face at home until he had made a name for himself. The days were hard, the treasure-hunting business was a bust and when he found sales, he realized he was a good salesman but had crappy products. However, the nights were the hardest. He slept in his car and crappy motels. There wasn’t a day that he didn’t think of what he did to his brother. He was angry, but he missed him. He often found his thoughts drifting to Y/N. Ford must've told them how Stan had felt, and apparently from the lack of communication, it seemed that those feelings were not reciprocated.

Maybe love wasn’t for him.

//I hope you guys liked this! I had the idea and hoped it didn't seem rushed. I think I'm getting sick so I don't feel like this is my best work. Should I do Ford’s perspective after being asked that favor from Stan?

[starsfic]

Weak Thing

Summary: Stan can't leave the Mystery Shack, especially when the twins take higher priority than Ford's studies and issues.

Some dialogue is based on a Discord convo between me and @vegalocity

"I can't do that."

Stanford Pines was usually a very patient man. You had to be patient to be a scientist and deal with long hours with very little progress, especially in a field like his. However, Stanley had always brought out the worst in him. "Why not?!" he snapped. "It's my house-"

"Because the kids' parents are finally doing what our parents should've done." Stanley had always been blunt, but this amount was enough to get Ford to slam his mouth shut. "They're getting a divorce and-" He sighed, the anger in his eyes easing back just a tad. "I haven't told the kids yet, but they're not just for the summer. They're here for at least a year or two."

"At least?" Ford echoed.

Stanley shrugged. "I don't really know, at least until the battle over property and stuff is over and the divorce is finished. Could be shorter, could be longer. Mark's always had the Pines' stubbornness and Ariel-" That must've been the twins' mother. "Ariel's always been a bit of a bitch but in a good way. It helped them through a lot of things, but now that's against each other."

Ford couldn't help a snort. "That's why they need to work on their issues for the kids-"

A hand wrapped around his throat. It was the second time his twin had shut him up in this conversation, but the last time hadn't had this cold fury in his eyes. "They're getting a divorce for the kids' sake.'' Stanley hissed. "The kids got sent away because Dipper overheard his own mom tell his dad that she should've aborted him and Mabel if she knew how much of a dick Mark was." Ford couldn't say a word. "If you repeat that divorce bullshit around the kids, then you'll only hurt them. Mabel's got this fucked up idea in her head that she can smooth things over with matchmaking and I need to help her with it." He squeezed once more and then pulled away. "But, look. The long and short of it is: Do you want to take care of the kids full time while their parents hash things out in California or do you want to go back to your studies?"

That stung. That stung and even worse, Ford knew what he would pick. "It's my house," he tried anyway.

"Not anymore," Stanley snorted. "Also, what do you think has been paying the mortgage on this place? You lost your grant long before I got here." Wait, no, hang on, that wasn't possible, not with the amount in his savings- Before the could voice his protest and explain how Stanley was wrong, his twin held out a key. "Your records are in the top cabinet, file F," he explained. "I also saved your weird voice recording machine with all the voicemails the university sent." He let out a low hiss. "Warning, they get pretty mean at the end."

Ford wanted to say more. Something. Anything. But Stanley had turned it on him faster than he could blink. He had to try, though. "I can take care of them..." It sounded weak in his ears.

"Sixer," Stan said, the old nickname harsh against his ears. For a minute, he swore Bill was hovering in front of him instead. "You couldn't even take care of yourself without someone holding your hand."

And...that was true, wasn't it? Stanley had to be the one to drag him out of bed so they couldn't be late for school, McGucket taking over in college and during his studies. They had to be the ones to make sure he actually ate something. They had to...

Fuck.

He couldn't do that for two teenagers. He couldn't even do that for himself.

"Good night, Ford. I'll hash out the house rules tomorrow."

Good night, weak little thing.

[tinfoil-jones]

Tate Pines AU One-Shot: Never Forget

Context: Total AU, Extra Info Post

One-Shots: Goodbye

Rating: Teen+/Mature

Summary: Stanley Pines has been alone for a little over seven years, but one day that changes.

Deep in a dark, dangerous, dirty, and some other d-word back alley, Stanley Pines struggled to get back onto his feet.

“I am…. never drinking tequila again.” Stan groaned, muttering painfully under his breath as he forced himself to stand up, hastily buttoning and zipping his jeans as best as he could with only one hand free “Ow, ow, ow-.” 

He had to lean on the wall for support and his hands were shaking, but he finally managed to get himself covered up again after a few fumbles. At least no one saw him, or heard him- well, them.

Tiredly he looked to the bundle he held in his other arm - an undersized baby boy wrapped up in his maroon hoodie. The babe was quiet now; he’d come into the world with one loud cry to announce his presence, and then settled down into whimpers before immediately tiring himself out and falling asleep. Stan was relieved that his face and skin was pink and lively, and not blue or gray like he feared would happen. 

“You just… couldn’t wait for me to get within walking distance of the hospital, could you?” Stan asked, more to himself than the baby; his heart was racing. He absent mindedly adjusted the hoodie around the baby to get a better look at him - he hadn’t had the chance earlier when he was too preoccupied with literally not dying in childbirth.

Impressively full head of hair for a newborn - still sticky and damp despite Stan's efforts in drying him off, but the wispy strands were the same dark brown as Stan’s own hair. Didn’t seem to have the trademark curls of the Pines family.

His eyes were closed now but Stan remembered they’d been a murky blue colour - he wouldn’t be surprised if they changed to brown as he got older, though.

Heart still pounding in his chest from his efforts and the novelty of this situation, Stan carefully pulled the baby's hand from under the hoodie, keeping the tiny palm propped up with his own much larger pointer finger so he could study it.

Five fingers. 

He sighed in- not exactly relief, but at least that was one less problem the kid would have to deal with-.

The tiny hand suddenly gripped his finger, and Stan felt his pounding heart practically melt.

“L-Let’s get you to the hospital and get cleaned up, al- alright?” He said to the baby- his baby, softly but shakilly. He felt light headed. Not just from the blood loss, pain, and hours of unmedicated labor- but the realization that this was his baby. At twenty-five years old, Stan was a father.

He limped his way out of the back alley. 

---

Stan’s family was always weird in the sense that his father held these deep-rooted beliefs in gender roles and what he expected a man to be. How he expected a man to act. And how failing to meet these expectations would be punished severely.

Filbrick Pines had absolutely no qualms with kicking his then seventeen-year-old son out of the family home and out into the world on his own with absolutely no support or assets besides his car.

But he apparently drew the line at transphobia.

As soon as he could talk Stan let everybody know he was a boy. And his family had no issues with this - they had three sons, and that was that. He was Stanford’s twin brother, Stanley Pines. It was so unproblematic and such a non-issue within the family that Stan himself didn’t remember what his birth name happened to be. Because it didn’t matter; he was Stanley, and Stanley was male. 

Did Filbrick get Stan new glasses after he broke his childhood pair? No. But he did always manage to get him the pills and shots he needed to be his authentic self. 

Stan supposed he appreciated that his father did the bare minimum of respecting his gender identity, but if he could have not kicked Stan out over a mistake, that would have been great.

But damn did he hate explaining his biological quirks to others. Medical personnel included. Especially medical personnel. They like to harp on how because they understand anatomy, physiology, and genetics, Stan must clearly be wrong about being a man. But he knew he wasn’t wrong, and those quakes just needed to shove their bigotry-disguised-as-education where the sun doesn't shine.

“He’s perfectly healthy, miss-”

“Mister.” Stan gruffed, interrupting the nurse, who paused briefly before continuing.

“-Pines. We thought he was premature because of his size but it looks like he’s full term, just small. All of the vitals are exactly where we need them to be.” She continued, and Stan nodded along, looking to the trolley next to his bed that held his now-swaddled, properly washed, infant son. “I’d highly encourage you to consider nursing him right away."

“I can’t.” Stan told her simply. Stan’s family could never afford to get him top surgery, but even if they could he doubted they would’ve; he was naturally heavy set so it was easy to assume that his weight was to blame for his full chest, so growing up no one assumed anything. He did eventually get top surgery himself but it was by a shady 'doctor' in Colombia. “I don’t… have any of that… stuff, left.” He explained, and when the nurse looked at him confused, he motioned towards his chest “Milk factory’s been chopped off.”

The nurse shuffled and hummed in thought, Stan knew she was uncomfortable and trying to hide it, he couldn’t bring himself to get mad at her right now, not when him and his baby needed medical attention. 

“Alright… I’ll have one of the neonatal nurses bring you a bottle and some formula. And they’ll show you how to properly bottle feed.”

Stan nodded again, keeping his eyes on the sleeping infant.

“Now there’s the matter of his birth certificate. What is his name?”

“Hmm?” Stan looked back at her.

“A name? What’s the baby’s name? He can’t just remain ‘Baby Pines’.” She said, wheeling over a small table with the birth certificate set on top.

Well.

Shit.

Stanley literally never once thought of a name. He found out (or rather, confirmed after months of denial) about this pregnancy less than two months ago, he was so caught up in the fact he was having a baby that it slipped his mind that he was having a baby who would need a name.

He looked around the room quickly for inspiration - outside of the hospital window, he could make out a billboard. He couldn’t make out too many details, because he didn’t have glasses to fix his poor sight, but he could vaguely make out the outline of a man playing a saxophone, and big bold white letters spelling out 'The Buddy Tate Quartet'.

“Buddy- no. Tate, uhm-” Stan blurted out before he could properly collect his thoughts.

“Tatum?” The nurse questioned.

That didn’t sound bad, so he just nodded “Tatum.” He confirmed. 

“Are you giving him a middle name?”

Stanley’s middle name was Romanov- a slightly different spelling of his mothers maiden name. Stanford’s middle name was Filbrick, their fathers name. He was fairly certain Shermie’s middle name was the same as their fathers-. 

But would Stanley really give his own name as his sons middle? It would make him a bit too similar to his Pa…

“Stanford.” Stanley finally answered, feeling his chest clench up at the thought of his estranged twin. He missed him so much, but…

“Okay, so; Tatum Stanford Pines?” The nurse asked, holding the pen above the certificate, waiting for Stan’s confirmation before she wrote anything down.

Stan nodded “Tatum Stanford Pines.” He repeated. 

---

Once the nurse was gone and all that was left was to wait for the neonatal nurses to show up and teach him to bottle feed, Stan carefully drew the curtain around his hospital bed for privacy and picked up the baby out of the trolley.

The activity woke the boy up but he wasn’t crying- he was just staring at Stan with blurry, milky blue eyes. 

“Hey- Tate.” Stan greeted awkwardly, almost cautiously. He knew how to handle babies just fine, because back when he still lived at home his parents often had his nephew, Shermie’s son, over. But it was different now. This wasn’t just some baby. This was his baby. This was his son. It’d be a little hard for Stan to believe it if he hadn’t pushed him out himself. Tate was so quiet, were babies always this quiet? From what his Ma told him, Stanley certainly hadn’t been a quiet baby.

Carefully, Stan placed Tate’s head against his shoulder, leaning back in the hospital bed as he rubbed the infant's back. Tate made a tiny little noise, and Stan- was he crying?

Yup, Stan was definitely crying. He didn’t know why, he wasn’t the type of person to cry. He didn’t even cry for the four or so hours he was in the alleyway in horrible pain. 

But now? Big, heavy, warm tears pooled in his eyes and fell down his cheeks, growing in more intensity as he hugged Tate in closer and lightly kissed the top of his head.

Stanley Pines was casted out of his family when he was seventeen years old, he was told by his father to not come back without riches, cutting Stan off from his parents, elder brother, and nephew. He didn’t have the courage to reach out to his own twin brother, someone who was once his best friend- not that Stanford made an effort to reach out either. 

For the past seven-odd years, Stan has been alone. For all intents and purposes, he didn't have a family.

But now?

Maybe it was small. And the future was uncertain.

But now, with Tate, Stan had a family to call his own again.

“Looks like it’s just going to be you and me for a while, buddy.” Stan whispered to his son, who continued to drool on his shoulder in response, “As long as we’re together, I’ll never let anything hurt you; I’ll always protect you no matter what the world throws at us.”

Stan kissed Tate’s head again, allowing himself this moment to let the tears flow freely, and he added “I love you, and I always will; never forget that, okay?”

THE END... Go Home

[darlingdaisyfarm]

⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚 ˖° a day at the beach with the Pines twins headcanons 

author note: okay, this is kinda a “what if au” where Stan never got kicked out of home (Filbrick I hate you), meaning he and Ford stayed together in new jersey and grew there too

u can imagine Stan with his mullet and twins being like… i bet you seen those edited screenshots of them where they are young and look like cousins of Mabel and Dipper? IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN I’m so sorry

Stan x reader x Ford, nsfw? (mostly it’s just wholesome and intimate but there’s mentions of sex still)

✧ Stan’s got you perched on his shoulders for a fight in the water and he’s talking shit the entire time, calling Ford “the human string bean” and yelling, “ya better hold on, sweetheart, ‘cause i ain’t lettin’ this nerd win!” spoiler: Ford wins

✧ the three of you build a sandcastle, no, no really. because Stan and Ford argue over everything in the process. Ford wants it to have “structural integrity,” while Stan insists on making it look “badass.” somehow, it ends up being both, a tower with a moat and little seaweed flags that Stan claims are “pirate-approved!!!” you’re the judge, of course

✧ Stan steals your sun hat. just straight-up snatches it off your head and plops it on his, smirking at you. “whaddya think, doll? does it suit me?” and honestly it kinda does, but you’re not gonna tell him that. Ford’s the one who eventually grabs it back, muttering about “immature antics” while carefully placing it back on your head

✧ imagine playing with Ford’s hair as you lay next to him on the beach, getting your fingers tangled in his soft strands, the ocean breeze making it swirl a little. you’re leaning closer to his face next thing he does is pressing soft kisses to your wrist. Ford’s eyes are beautiful, so when he glances up at you, he looks like he’s asking for permission to take that next step. like he can’t wait to kiss you, but he’s waiting for you to make the first move

✧ sharing the towel with Stan and Ford after you’ve all been in the water. sand sticking to your skin, that salty taste all over your lips. Stan just drops his towel on top of yours, pulling you in close so you’re trapped between them. “ain’t no way I’m lettin’ ya get cold, pretty,” Stan’s hands are sliding up your legs, getting close to the waistband of your swimsuit bottoms. Ford’s fingers caress your skin, too, both of them deciding who gets to take you first. god, you could melt between them. it’s totally not because of the sun

✧ they challenge you to a volleyball match, and oh god, it’s a disaster. because Stan’s so competitive, diving for every ball and yelling, “yer gonna hafta do better than that, sixer!” while Ford tries to play by the actual rules. sadly, it ends with Stanley smacking ball right into Ford’s face with “oops”

✧ Ford’s got sunscreen smeared across his nose because he applied it so meticulously he missed the most obvious spot. Stan, being a little shit, doesn’t say a word until you point it out and that makes him die at his brother’s embarrassed reaction. Ford just says, “at least i won’t look like a lobster.”

✧ Stan teaches you how to skip stones. but “teaches” is a strong word because he mostly just shows off, throwing perfect skips and smirking at you every time yours plops straight into the water. “ain’t no shame in bein’ bad at it, sweetheart. not everyone can be as talented as me.” Ford, of course, chimes in with, “it’s all about the angle of release,” and then he decides to demonstrate, making it look annoyingly easy

✧ they both get weirdly protective when some random guy starts chatting you up. guess who’s first to speak and says “don’tcha got somewhere else to be, buddy?” ??? 

✧ IDK WHY BUT I JUST SEE IT HAPPENING. hear me out. Stan buys you ice cream from a cart on the boardwalk, but the bastard purposely gets himself the messiest one he can find, idk, like a triple scoop with chocolate drizzle and sprinkles AND GUESS WHAT? it’s melting faster than he can eat it, dripping all over his hands and chest. HAH SUCKER (sorry i love him sm) and if you’ll look at him, his chest especially, thinking he won’t notice, believe me he will, “whatcha lookin’ at, doll? ya wanna lick it off me or somethin’?”

✧ Ford’s way more methodical with his treat, carefully choosing something sensible like a popsicle. he tries to eat it while reading, holding his book with one hand and the other balancing the melting stick. but he’s a silly guy who doesn’t know what summer is, so his popsicle drips onto the page and Stan immediately makes fun of him for it 

✧ more bout ice cream thing: it becomes like some kind of foreplay. Stan insists on buying you the biggest cone they have, all drippy and sweet, just so he can watch you try to eat it before it melts. “careful, baby,” as he messily licks a stray drop off your wrist. Ford doesn’t stop himself from leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth, tasting the sweetness. by the time you’re done, the three of you are a mess of sugar and salt and heat

✧ at one point, Stan flops onto your towel, shaking sand everywhere. “hope ya don’t mind sharin’ with yer favorite guy,” he says, throwing an arm around your shoulders. however Ford tries to protest, pointing out that there are plenty of other towels, but his brother just smirks and says, “don’t be jealous, sixer. there’s room for you too.” and that’s how you three end up all squeezed together in a ridiculous pile

✧ Ford collects seashells. of course he does. hes a cutie. he’s walking along the shore, muttering to himself about “the fascinating variety of mollusk species” while carefully placing his finds into a small bag. Stan tries to look cool in front of you so he mocks his twin, calling it “nerd treasure,” or “typical nerds hobbies”, but later you catch him sneaking one of Ford’s shells into his pocket :)

✧ you challenge ford to a sand sculpting contest and he takes it so seriously because he’s sketching out blueprints in the sand, muttering about “load-bearing structures” while you’re just piling up sand with your hands. Stan joins your team, of course, and together you make the stupidest creation ever. Ford’s castle is a masterpiece, all detailed and structured, but when you ask the kids nearby to judge, they pick yours because it “looks funny!” 

✧ Stan’s sunglasses break because he sits on them and instead of admitting defeat, he just steals Ford’s

✧ it starts innocent, like most things do. Ford’s helping you tie the strings of your bikini top after a swim. but he’s not as composed and cool as he seems. Stan, being nearby, catches the whole thing. “aw, sixer, don’t be that nervous. want me to show ya how it’s done?”

✧ Stan’s teaching you how to body surf, him standing waist-deep in the water, his chest glistening from salt water and all golden from the sun. “so you just have to let the wave carry ya, toots,” he grins but he doesn’t let you go far, placing his big hands on your hips before squeezing your ass  

✧ they’ve set up a beach blanket, which is big enough for all three of you, and somehow you’ve ended up pinned between them. as always. not like you complaining though. Stan’s lying back, laying his arm around your shoulders. but Ford is more intimate, he’s talking about something you can’t even focus on because his hand is on your thigh as he brushes his fingers against the skin just beneath your bikini bottom. and then you both hear: “ya gotta share, sixer. can’t hog her all to yerself.”

✧ they both look at you like they’d devour you right there if they could

✧ Stan likes to tease, but he’s downright filthy when he gets you alone in the water. the sunlight makes your skin glisten beautifully and he can’t keep his hands off you. “ain’t nobody around, cmon,” he whispers in your ear as his fingers sneak beneath your bikini bottoms. “lemme feel ya, darlin’.” the saltwater does nothing to cool the burn as his fingers press in slowly and your body trembles, while his free hand holds you steady against him, his cock hard against your ass

✧ Ford acts all gentlemanly at first, adjusting your sun hat when the wind threatens to blow it off, complimenting how stunning you look with the ocean behind you. but you just have to tease him, so you lean into him and whisper something sweet and a little filthy in his ear. his reaction is immediate when he pulls you into the shade of a lifeguard tower, slipping his hand under your bikini as he kisses you and grinds his hips against you

✧ Stan cant help himself, he likes to watch your lips wrapped around the straw of your drink. it drives him wild. guess why

✧ Ford’s chest a little pink from the sunburn he’ll complain about later, but right now, he’s distracted by the way Stan’s fingers are trailing up your thigh as he applies sunscreen on you. he spreads the slick lotion higher, closer to where your thighs meet. Ford glares, but he doesn’t stop him; instead, he leans down and kisses your shoulder, saying something about needing to check for missed spots

✧ uh. . . imagine sneaking off to one of those little wooden beach huts which are meant for changing clothes, but it barely fits all three of you. but don’t be sad, the cramped space only makes things hotter!

✧ you’re dripping wet from a late afternoon swim and your bikini clings to your skin what makes Stan whistle and Ford fumble with his towel. the sun is setting behind you, turning everything in this golden, honey-like colour and you look like something out of a dream for both twins. “y-you’ll catch a cold,” Ford says as he wraps the towel around your shoulders. “nah, she’s burnin’ up already, don’t u see,” Stan is already behind you as he kisses your neck and the towel falls to the sand

✧ there’s something so funny but intimate about the way they take turns rubbing sunscreen onto your skin, even when you protest you’re fine on your own

[flatassthrowaway]

Passionate and Deeply

~Chapter One~

Y'all might actually hate me for this chapter, but you can let me know what you think.

Just a gentle reminder that this story will eventually become 18+. MDNI please.

If you didn't read the prologue, it's here. Enjoy!

A few days passed, and it was now the end of February. I haven’t seen Ford for a whole week since we met. According to Susan, I just missed him the other day.

I wonder… was he looking for me?

No, it couldn’t be. No one sought after me.

He’s probably busy anyway with his paranormal investigations. He doesn’t have time to think about lil ol’ me.

Nevertheless, he did give me his address and said to stop by whenever I wanted to talk about the paranormal.

I was finished with my work for the day, and we only had like one more hour of sunlight before it was total darkness, so I decided to go visit him. I mean, why not? It’s not like I have anything better to do.

I got all bundled up before heading out the door. As I locked the door, I noted that the icicles around my home appeared to be… moving?

I shook my head and looked at the icicles again, but they were completely still.

Sheesh, I think I’ve been working too long. Now I think the icicles are moving.

Maybe getting out of the house will do me some good.

Thankfully, his home wasn’t too far from mine. But… I did start seeing weird signs shaped as arrows that said, “To the Mystery Shack,” and “Amazing!” as well as “Enter!”

Where did he live, exactly? And why were there so many bizarre signs leading to his home?

By the time I got there, there was a young man sitting on the porch of the home, talking with…

Ford!

He was fully bundled up with a maroon jacket lined with faux fur, and dark jeans with dark brown winter boots.

“There you are, Ford!” I called him, rushing over.

He turned around and raised an eyebrow. “Uh… what? Do I know you, kid?” He asked in a raspy voice.

Oh no! I wonder if he caught a cold? Although, it sounds like he’d been smoking for a while to have that kind of voice. I didn’t notice it during our time at the diner.

“Come on, Ford! It’s me!” I told him my name again. “Don’t tell me you forgot me already!”

“Kid, listen! I told you I don’t know who you are! Now leave us alone and get outta here!” He said in an even rougher tone, and he turned his back to me.

I sighed sadly. I guess he really doesn’t remember…

“Wait a sec, girl dude! Mr. Pines, why are you being so mean to the nice lady? She’s just looking for your brother,” the man on the porch spoke. He wore a dark green jacket, grey sweatpants and black winter boots.

“What…? Brother?” I asked. This man looked identical to Ford!

Twins…?

The man sighed and turned around. “I’m not Ford. My brainiac brother is inside. I’m Stanley Pines, but you can call me Stan,” he introduced.

“And I’m Soos, Mr. Mystery himself! I, along with my wife and grandma, live here with Mr. Pines and his twin brother,” Soos introduced.

I smiled. “Well, it’s nice to meet you Soos… and Stan.”

“You too, girl dude!”

The door then opened, revealing a young woman who appeared to be the same age as me, but she was heavily pregnant. She wore a long sleeved lavender dress that fell to her feet, and white fluffy slippers. She had light brown wavy hair that was pulled up in a ponytail, hazelnut brown eyes, and tan skin.

“Soos? Mr. Pines? Dinner’s ready!” She told them.

“Finally! Thanks Mel,” Stan said, leaving the three of us.

Well at least I found people in my age range. The woman, who I assume is Mel, turned to me. “Oh, hello! Soos, who’s this?”

Soos introduced me to her. “And this is Melody Ramirez, my lovely wife, and soon-to-be mother of my child,” he said.

I smiled. I could feel the love radiating from his words about his wife. He truly loves her.

“Nice to meet you, Melody,” I said.

“You as well,” she said. “Hey! Why don’t you come in for dinner? We’re having meatloaf tonight!”

“Oh… I wouldn’t want to impose…” I trailed off.

“Hey, don’t worry about Mr. Pines,” Soos said my name. “He’s a little rough at first, but he’s one of a kind. Plus, his twin brother is here, which is who you really wanted to see, right?”

I nodded. “Yes…”

“So come in! I’d hate for you to be left out in the cold,” Melody told me.

I smiled and nodded as Soos went in, and I went in after him, instantly feeling much warmer. I took my shoes off, and once I finished, Melody and Soos gave me a strange look.

“What is it?” I asked.

“This isn’t a shoe free home. You can keep your shoes on,” Melody told me as Soos went to the table.

I shrugged. “Mine is. I suppose old habits die hard.”

“As long as you’re comfortable. Come on, let’s get you some food,” she said, guiding me to the dining table.

An elderly woman, who I assume is Soos’ grandmother, happily dished out food, and I saw Stan and Ford side by side, seemingly bickering. Soos was at the head of the table and started eating the food in front of him.

There was meatloaf, mashed potatoes, mashed sweet potatoes, kale, broccoli and asparagus. There was a large pitcher in the middle that was steaming.

This truly looks like a feast.

As I approached the table with Melody, I heard what the bickering between Ford and his brother was about.

“But you told me I ought to make some more friends! I finally made another one and you’re irate over it?!” Ford said incredulously.

“Poindexter, I said find a friend, not someone you can fuck around with,” Stan said.

Ugh, he’s one of those guys.

“Ay! Language!” The grandmother scolded Stan. “Not in front of mi bisnieto!”

“Sorry toots,” he told her before turning to Ford. “But I’m serious, Poindexter. If-“

“Um, Mr. Pines-“

Stan cut Soos off. “Not now, Soos! I’m tryin’ to-“

Soos cut Stan off. “But Mr. Pines, she’s right here!” Soos cried.

Both Ford and Stan looked at Melody and myself, and went wide eyed.

“Well… shit,” Stan said.

“Stanley Pines!” Abuelita scolded him.

“Sorry! Sweet Moses…”

Melody turned to me and smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry about this. It’s normally not this noisy. Or rude,” she told me apologetically.

I shook my head. “No harm done,” I told her.

Melody sat down next to her husband, and Abuelita begrudgingly took a seat next to Stan. Seeing four empty seats, I took the one next to Melody. I wonder why there’s so many?

Actually, Ford did say his niece and nephew visited, so maybe it was for them.

Melody and I dished out for ourselves, and we began eating, along with the rest of the family.

“I just wanted to thank you for inviting me into your home,” I told them.

“Anytime, cariño. It’s nice to see that my granddaughter-in-law has a friend who she can share things with,” Abuelita told me.

Aww, she’s so kind. She reminds me of my own grandmother. I miss her…

“Actually Abuelita, she’s a friend of Ford,” Melody corrected her. “Although I wouldn’t mind being friends.”

“It would be nice to have a girlfriend here, I agree,” I told her.

“Oh? Wow, you must really like her to invite her here Mr. Stanford. Never invite anyone to our home, except that hillbilly man,” Abuelita remarked as she continued eating.

Ford doesn’t appear to trust people. I guess that’s one thing we have in common.

Except that hillbilly man she spoke of. I wonder who he is.

Ford scratched the back of his head. “Why, yes. I believe that she would make a great co- I mean female friend,” he replied.

“Oh, that’s so wonderful!”

“So,” Soos said my name in between bites of his food. “What brings you to our wonderful town?”

I smiled. “I’m here for work,” I told him.

“Yeah, what kinda work you do?” Stan asked.

“Stanley, it’s ’what kind of work do you do?’” Ford corrected him.

“Poindexter I swear if you start with that grammar shi-“ Stan cut himself off when he noticed Abuelita was glaring at him. “I mean that grammar thing, we’re gonna have some problems!”

Ford rolled his eyes as I told everyone what I did for work.

“Oh, so you can travel and still maintain the same kind of work? That’s cool!” Melody said.

I smiled. “Thanks.”

“Listen, let me cut to the chase,” Stan told me. “How long ago did you meet my brother?”

“About a week ago,” I said.

Stan turned to his brother. “Normally I’d be happy for you, Sixer, but I don’t like this,” he told his brother.

“Stanley, why is-“

I drowned out their bickering and quickly finished my food. I thanked Melody, Soos and Abuelita for having me, and Melody went to see me off.

“I’m sorry about that again. You’re always welcome back here… with or without those two.”

I chuckled. “Thanks, Melody. I hope to speak with you further at a later time.”

“Me too. I hope this doesn’t taint your experience of Gravity Falls. It’s a wonderful town, I promise,” she told me as I donned my winter boots again.

“Thank you, Melody. Have a good night. Rest well,” I told her.

“Thanks! See you around,” Melody told me as she waved.

I waved back as I stepped outside, and began trekking home. The wind was cold and bit at the exposing skin on my face.

I knew I should have brought a face cover.

“Wait!” I heard a familiar voice call my name.

I turned around to see Ford running up to me. He caught up to me and gave me an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry for what my brother said about you. He should have never said those demeaning words to describe you,” he told me.

I shook my head. “It was coming from a place of concern, so I understand,” I told him as we kept walking to my home. “I mean… I’d be a little surprised if he was on board with our budding friendship. Honestly… I’m surprised I’m not too young for you.”

Ford raised an eyebrow. “Why would that be a problem?” Ford asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. You hear stories about young people like me taking advantage of older people? I think that’s what your brother is afraid of…”

“I’m sure you’re very smart dear, but I am rather intelligent. I would know if you were trying to take advantage of me,” Ford told me.

I gave him a half smile. “That’s the thing, Ford,” I told him. “You can be as smart as Einstein, Newton and Tesla combined, but emotions can cloud your judgement no matter how smart or how dull you are. Maybe… maybe your brother is right. Maybe we shouldn’t pursue this friendship…”

We arrived at my house, and he turned to me. “Is that what you want?” Stanford asked. “Please, look me in the eye and tell me that this is what you want.”

I looked at him, and… I can’t tell him that.

Maybe it’s because I’ve gone without having any close friends for so long, but… I really, really don’t want our budding friendship to end. It’s been so long since I had a friendship that I actually felt good about.

“I-“ I cut myself off.

The chime of the icicles interrupted me. I looked away from him as I saw the icicles come to life. And… I wasn’t going crazy! They really are mice!

“Ahh!” I cried, startled that the icicles turned into mice. We both heard a beeping coming from him. Ford turned around and looked at what I saw, and he breathed a sigh of relief, his breath manifesting in a small bit of mist escaping his mouth.

I looked at him in confusion. How the hell was he not freaking out?

“Well, I finally found it. The anomaly we were looking for,” Ford said, taking out a tablet and taking a picture of the ice-made mice.

What… the hell?

I was absolutely dumbfounded. Was this a part of his paranormal investigations?

“Is that… what?” I said in shock.

This was the first time I heard him genuinely laugh. It was… it was pleasing to hear.

“I’m sorry they gave you a fright. These little guys were what I was looking for,” Ford told me, softly caressing one of them with his index finger. These little icicle mice were rather… affectionate? It rubbed its tiny head against his finger.

“So this is what you do,” I said. “You never answered me in terms of what you did, after all.”

Ford scratched the back of his head. “Ah, that is true. I suppose I do owe you.”

I looked at him expectantly, and he turned a little pink. I looked away in order for him to feel more comfortable. I have been told that my gaze is a little jarring.

“In short, you were right to say that I am a paranormal investigator,” he told me. “I am also a scientist and adventurer.”

I smiled. “Ha! I knew it!” I said, watching the little icicle mice curl up with each other to create one large icicle.

It’s so interesting how… they even exist.

“I just hope… the experience with my brother doesn’t dissuade you from coming to see me again,” he told me. “I meant it when I said you could come and see me whenever you wanted to talk about paranormal topics.”

I smiled at him. “Thank you, Ford.”

He gave me a kind smile in return. My smile dropped, and he gave me a concerned look, almost as if to ask me what was wrong.

“Why didn’t you tell me about your brother when we were in the diner?” I asked.

Ford sighed. “To be frank… I try not to talk about him. Not because I’m ashamed of my brother, but…”

I nodded, gesturing for him to continue.

Ford scratched the back of his head. “Well, perhaps I can tell you at a different time.”

I nodded. “Whatever is most comfortable for you.”

“While I have you here…” Ford trailed off. “Why did you give me the exact change of the bill? Even after you went on that tirade about needing me to be a gentleman?”

I raised an eyebrow. “It most definitely was not a tirade! I said one sentence!” I retorted. “But, with that being said… I would be comfortable telling you that at a different time.”

Ford nodded. “I see. Perhaps instead of you dropping by unannounced, we set a date for when we can speak about our favorite topic,” he told me with a smile.

I gave him a small smile. “At long last, a solution!” I said playfully.

Ford chuckled. “Friday almost always seems to be a good day for spending time with others, if my people watching is anything to go by.”

I chuckled. “This Friday it is,” I told him. “I didn’t realize you were such a stalker, Ford~”

Ford blushed when I said this, and scratched the back of his head.

Mbjr mbjr mbjr mbjr

Zopa zopa zopa

Why the hell do I always do that? I always make people uncomfortable and put my foot in my mouth! This is why I can’t keep any friends! Now this nice man doesn’t even want to meet up anymore.

Thankfully, he did crack a smile and chuckled, which relieved some of my anxiety.

“Goodnight,” he said my name. “Rest well.”

“Goodnight, Ford. You too,” I told him. I waved to him as I went inside and closed my door, and it wasn’t until then that he started walking back to his home.

Also, what the hell was he talking about when he said that house was eerily quiet? That was a lively home!

Whatever. I’ll bust his chops about it later.

For now, I sleep.

Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are always appreciated!

Next part is here!

[grnpurplgrmln]

In my billford feels on this fine day, so let me rant a bit

Ford was possibly the closest Bill has gotten to relating to someone in EONS, so of course he opened up to him about his home, of course there is some sentimentality, and of COURSE Bill was heartbroken when Ford didn't want to finish the portal.

Bill's had plenty of failures before, this should've been just another in a long line, but no. Bill went ahead and got himself attached to a human.

Not necessarily romantically, but he does care a lot more about Ford than he let on. And it's all because he sees a bit of himself in him.

He sees the kid who was cradled by his parents while they assured him that they would keep him safe and that they'll love him no matter what.

He sees the stubborn child who refused to learn how to tie shoelaces and wore velcro for sixteen years.

And he also sees a man who is willing to let go of, and maybe even dispose of, people who stand his way. Or at least that's what Bill saw.

But there was a part of Ford that Bill didn't really take into account: humanity. That was what set Bill and Ford apart.

Bill is a "needy ex who can't get over Ford" because OF COURSE HE IS.

Would *you* ever get over finding someone who finally somewhat gets you? You do the thing you do best - manipulating people - but there's something at the back of your mind that makes you, despite everything you know, still foolishly believe that you two can work together, as equals, as partners. That they will, without a second thought, grab your hand and vow to fight to stay by your side?

But in the end, you just got your heart broken again, and you know that you're the only one to blame here.

Where Ford is ashamed of himself for letting himself be manipulated, Bill is ashamed because he let himself get attached, for the slightest chance of keeping Ford by his side.

Because deep down, he knew. With his Ciphervoyance, surely he saw a timeline where Ford agrees to stay with him, and there was a twisted sensation inside of him that hoped that would happen in this timeline too.

It's why he goes to O'Sadley's for I'm Fine Juice and breaks down at Interdimensional Taco Bell when he's told that he can't get Sixer.

Because that's exactly what's been ringing in his head ever since Ford's betrayal. To Bill (though he will never admit it out loud), Ford will always be the one that got away.

Oh! As if the betrayal wasn't enough, the time he almost dies, it's by the hands of Stanley (and technically Ford, but y'know).

The fact that Stan was the one to kill him was an enormous blow to Bill's ego.

So much so that he goes on a whole rant how Stan's the lesser twin and "he shouldn't be allowed to wear a suit and tie."

What's really interesting though, is how through cursing Stan, he praises Ford.

Ford's the "better genetic duplicate", Stan is just "a carbon copy of Sixer."

Let's face it, if Bill almost-died by Ford's hands, he wouldn't have complained nearly as much (still would have complained, though).

I mean dude, don't you think this is a bit much for a guy you basically only know as "my ex's annoying brother"?

Thanks for coming to my TAD STRANGE talk or whatever it's called.

[cracklinhaze]

🦃🍁🍂 Pines Family Holiday Headcanons 🦃🍁🍂

listen, the twins definitely don't leave piedmont for thanksgiving often, but if they got to go up to gravity falls for the holidays one year, here's some headcanons for you. yum yum. eat up.

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

༄ melody and soos clear out the living/dining room of the mystery shack to set up a big table for everyone. it's very homey and warm.

༄ as soon as the grunkles hear that their kiddos are coming to gravity falls, they dock their boat because hell no they're not missing them.

༄ wendy sometimes sneaks away from her own family for a little bit because stan lets her have a beer underage.

༄ melody cooks, but soos insists on finishing up once she's been on her feet too long (he loves his pregnant wife).

༄ mabel and stan make tons of bets -- like stupid, petty bets all night long. who goes for seconds first (soos and dipper). who spills their drink (stan). how many times ford will bring up that the Parallel Earth Dimension doesn't celebrate a colonizing holiday (at least four).

༄ dipper actually takes a shower??!

༄ mabel's favorite dish is the sweet potatoes with the marshmallows on top. she just eats the marshmallows.

༄ after dinner, stan, soos, and mabel collapse on the couch and watch shitty christmas movies. dipper, melody, and ford go outside on a long walk.

༄ waddles parks himself in the kitchen hoping someone will drop food on the floor while they're cooking. stan comments on how the pig acts more like a dog every year.

༄ the mystery twins will never get over how easy it is to talk to everyone in gravity falls versus piedmont. once you know the supernatural exists and survive an apocalypse together, trying to celebrate family with anyone else falls flat.

---

i know this time of year can be weird, especially for queer folks. you're all loved and welcome at this table. hugs.