#bill mentioned

[void-dude]

And in that moment after 30 years I finally knew, I was home

[drowninnoodles]

Heh

thanks to @hannahdra-ws for quote, its very cursed indeed.

[oobbbear]

Alone Together au! Where both Ford and Fiddleford fall through the portal

30 years after + first fall through

They fell through the portal after Fidd left Ford and before Stan arrives, that middle period where Ford is haunted by bill and going crazy.

Fiddleford went back after the incident trying one last time to warn Ford but instead they got into a fight actives the portal get sucked in and you know the rest.

[maibeloved]

Guess who is back in their gravity falls phase! (After it being dormant for almost a decade!)

[mejkosmos]

whichever madman pointed out that the new rift on bill's body in the theraprism is meant to parallel ford's cracked glasses after he emerges out of the portal,,,, MY SOUL IS YOURS TO TAKE ANYDAY MY GOSH

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bonus !!

ford about bill:

bill about ford:

[donniipao]

A Marionette for my Muse

shout out to fake journal 3 pages 🙏🙏🙏

[alenseress]

The crew is here

[akamavarii]

i like to make him suffer

[camenxi]

thinking about what if bill visited stan a few months after the ford-portal accident and he sees stan being the most miserable pathetic depressed grieving man who just chugged his 8th bottle of beer looking absolutely sleep deprived and a mess and bill considers it hot as fuck

[sirtallyopera]

Ford’s wrinkly old ass at age 92

Anyways here’s the OG

(The divorce was not enough, years later and these two fruity pathetic fa- I mean people, still have a strange obsession with each other shown in different ways, one less obvious then the other, if that’s how you’d like to view it)

[time-woods]

manymanymany doodles of thesefools dumping all these onyour doorstep like a cat leavingyou deadmice

[void-dude]

I serve you: What if therapy worked a little tiny bit on BILL?

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

I said a little

[aria-greenhoodie]

I should be asleep but it’s 1:50 am and I’m thinkin bout these freaks again

Click for Quality!

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Continuation to This Post :]

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It was always so strange to hear adults argue.

Grown up fights never seemed quite the same as the trivial spats her and Dipper sometimes had. They were similar in some aspects, yes; Adults and children weren't as different as people liked to think. Mabel had seen adults verbally lash at one another with vicious words just as low hanging and petty as the ones she'd sometimes see kids the same age as her use. Adults arguing was essentially just a louder, angrier version of children fights.

And yet, there was somehow... more to it. Grown up arguments always seemed to weigh so much heavier in the air, and for so much longer than she'd ever thought possible.

Sometimes, the weight would leave quick and early, practically gone by the next morning. However, occasionally, the weight would stay; and grow heavier, and heavier over the years. Until it came to a point when the weight was nothing but a choking, stifling presence that seemed to fill every room in the house and buzz deafeningly in your ears like an unpleasant static that made your head pound.

Then, one day, the pressure would burst with a loud yell, a slam, and a bang, and start building up all over again. It was a cycle Mabel was much familiar with.

Her Grunkle Ford's "Mystery Shack" didn't have that air.

The shack's air smelled like burnt out candles and cheap discount Halloween fake blood, with a hint of real blood underneath the stinging scent of old wood and aged parchment. It wasn't necessarily a very nice air, certainly not in any way the fresh, crisp, clean air of the streets of Piedmont, but it smelled more like home than she'd ever felt back in California. It just smelled like... Grunkle Ford.

She liked her Grunkle Ford. He was super weird; with an even weirder Uncle as his roommate. He checked her and Dipper's arms and legs every morning "just in case someone broke in at night to steal a sample of their bloods"; he despised overly sweet foods (baffling, truly); and he had exactly 27 locks installed on the front and back door respectively that he could unlock all in under a minute with his really fast extra fingers. He reminded her a little of Dipper on some occasions, no matter how much the latter liked to deny the similarities (although, bar the demonic obssession).

However, last night, the air suddenly grew heavy.

Grunkle Ford had a fight.

Mabel hadn't heard it, and she hadn't seen it, but she knew there had been one. She was an expert recognizing the signs; she could always tell.

When she had awoken that late morning, the stuffy summer air had taken an even more sour note than usual, and had become a touch heavier than it should have been. Either that meant Grunkle Ford had just recently finished up a ritual, or a particularly rowdy argument had taken place; and Mabel knew that Grunkle Ford only performed his rituals between 2 to 4 AM, when he thought the twins were well asleep.

It was strange, to feel that same heavy air push down upon her temples and pound that same painful rhythm of a mounting headache as it used to do so often back when Mabel was in California. It had already happened a few times at the shack, but this one felt... heavier, than usual. She didn't think she would have to encounter the discomforting weight again this summer, away from her parents. Yet here she was. Aching.

She knew Gunkle Ford and Uncle Bill fought and bantered. With Bill being a permanent resident trapped within her Grunkle's mind, she couldn't imagine how they wouldn't. She didn't think even she could keep her cool if she had Uncle Bill as her brain roommate 24/7.

In any case, their interactions in front of the twins were mostly a mixture of exasperated resignation, or irritated tolerance, mostly from Grunkle Ford. Their occasional volleying exchanges of vitriol doused insults and words were short lived, and brief most of the time, especially when in front of the kids. They were nothing like the long, loud ones that could go on for hours back at her house in Piedmont.

Even so, there were some times when Mabel would see Grunkle Ford late in the evening, red faced and tight fisted, stomping down to the basement and disappearing into his lab there with a deafening slam of the rickety wooden door. She recognized that slam. He didn't want the twins to hear the argument.

Even if they could hear anything, what little they could glean always seemed to be only side of the argument, with Grunkle Ford yelling curses at Uncle Bill inside his head. She always did wonder what happened inside Grunkle Ford's head. Although, she wasn't sure if she wanted to know the answer. She couldn't imagine the state of the mind of someone who sometimes forgot to eat or sleep for almost a full week until someone reminded him.

The entire day passed with that same, tense air choking the atmosphere. Dipper had dragged Mabel and himself to some adventure in the forest, but it seemed to her that he was just trying to find excuses to stay out of the shack for the time being. Even he seemed to feel the unnerving heaviness of the air.

That night, underneath her sheets, Mabel pulled out the worn and well used wooden art mannequins Dipper and Grunkle Ford seemed to keen on using to summon Bill rather than their own shadows. With her trusty golden glitter pen (that she knew Uncle Bill loved despite what he claimed), she gently drew a closed eye upon the blank wooden face of the little model.

The eye opened, and she spoke:

[toonsforkicks22]

It’s always the sweetest ones…

[donniipao]

first time vs last time in the nightmare realm

both done on an aggie/magma/drawpile