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kittynugg · 21 days ago

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chapter 2 of A Little Dilemma is out!

chapter: 1/2/3/4/?

words: 2,872

(also hey maybe reblog this if you like it :> just sayin it helps me spread my words to the world)

Ford limped into the kitchen with a heaved sigh, flanked of course by a panicked Soos.

“Dude, I’m just saying, but when you just poof into a little baby I promise me and Mister Pines are gonna take care of you,” assured the well-meaning man who just happened to be pushing every button Ford had.

He jerked open the fridge, casting a “I could kill you in fifty different ways and hide your body in twice as many places at the same time” glare at Soos who still didn’t get the message, and took out a can of soda. “You’ve said that eleven times in the past fifteen minutes.”

And this had been going on for two hours. Two. Hours.

He bumped the fridge shut with his elbow and hobbled past Soos. Unsurprisingly, he followed him all the way to the couch, the place he’d been for most of the day. And Soos, Soos had been there most of the day as well. Waiting for something to happen. He’d even closed down the shack for the day! ..Honestly Ford didn’t mind that, that just meant he didn’t have to explain “yes, I do have a laboratory in my basement which is accessible via this vending machine but that’s none of your business” to six different tourists.

But he did mind Soos breathing down his neck when he was just trying to drink some damned Pitt!

He settled down on the couch again, remote in-hand, (character development!) and turned up the volume to drown out Soos’ continued reassurances. He’d actually made a game out of the infomercials, and hence had decided to keep them on. The goal was to guess what they were advertising before it was outright said.

“ARE YOU TIRED OF THE CRUSHING WEIGHT OF EXISTENCE CONSTANTLY BORING DOWN ON YOU!?” The TV crackled.

..What was this one? Prozac?

“COME TO MAMA MISFORTUNE’S TRAVELING CARNIVAL, IN GRAVITY FALLS UNTIL MONTH’S END! THE PERFECT DISTRACTION FROM YOUR MODERN WOES!”

Oh. The fair. Well, now that he knew he’d already been there the ad was just annoying, so he changed the channel. A documentary about how jellybeans were made came on by chance.

Now that was something he could ignore both Soos and the crushing weight of existence with.

And ignore, he did.

It was fascinating, apparently Jelly Belly used natural ingredients whenever possible! So.. Hey, wasn’t there a dog food one? And.. barf?

He chose not to think about that. But the process was a marvel! First they poured a slurry of corn syrup, sugar, corn starch and “do you feel any younger yet Mister–”

“Soos!” Barked Ford, whipping in Soos’ direction. “Can you please let me enjoy my mindless entertainment in peace!?” He slapped a hand to his face.

Soos, of course, decided to act like a confused puppy about it! His shoulder hunched and he took a couple of steps back. “I was just tryna make sure you’re okay, dawg..”

Okay, he was done with this!

“It is tap water,” he sighed shakily. “I’ve found the actual fountain of youth. Trust me when I say that that vial has never gone near it.” A circular gesture was made with his finger vaguely near Soos’ pocket where he believed the vial to be. “I am.. Getting close to begging here.” And he was not going to let Soos push him to that point!

It actually looked like at least one neuron fired in Soos’ brain, and a faint smile spread across his face. “You’re sure, dude?” Hearing him not immediately reject Ford’s assurance was like a breath of fresh air. Ford nodded frantically.

“Yes! One hundred percent sure! Nothing is going to come of this, I promise.”

“But what if there’s, like, a tap of youth?”

That one made him do a double-take. Surely that singular functional braincell Soos had was trying its best, h– okay maybe he was being a little harsh now. He mentally vowed to stop insulting Soos. “There is no tap of youth, Soos.” He answered simply, then took a deep breath. In quickly, out slowly. Activate that parasympathetic nervous system before you have a heart attack. “Satisfied?”

“Alright, dawg, I trust you. You’re, like, the smartest dude I know anyway!” Soos chortled, facepalming. That was.. Surprisingly easy. “Dude, I don’t even know why I was so worried. Gonna start sounding like you or Dipper soon. No offense, dude.”

STOP SAYING “DUDE” IN EVERY SENTEN-

Ford sighed. “Oh, none taken. I know we can be awfully paranoid.” Keep the peace, Stanford, you just got him to potentially leave you alone. “Speaking of which, have you seen him and Mabel?” A glance around returned no information. Wonderful.

“They just went in the kitchen! Hey, are you starting to smell smoke too or is it just me? ..Because I do this weird thing sometimes where I just smell smoke out of nowhere.. Is that some creepy paranormal thing?” Soos wiggled his fingers for emphasis, and Ford’s expression blanked at the sight of smoke starting to waft from the kitchen. “I’unno, dude, kinda suspicious.. And are you seeing that smoke comin’ out of the kitchen? Crazy coinciden-”

He was cut short by Ford jumping to his feet and sprinting into the kitchen. Dipper and Mabel were there, alright, coughing and frantically fanning at the smoke billowing from a pot on the stove. Because stars forbid he sat down for five minutes without something happening. On a habit he couldn’t remember building but couldn’t remember not having, his eyes scanned them for any injuries.

They were fine at first glance (incredibly scrutinizing stare, actually), but sort of just stared back at him with the wide eyes of a couple of kids who had been caught. Dipper froze mid-panic, then slowly turned to Mabel. “..who’s taking the fall this time,” he whispered as if Ford wasn’t right there.

“I call not it.” Mabel hissed back. Ford was not impressed. He stood against the doorframe, arms crossed and fingers tapping impatiently against his sweater, sure to hover his injured foot off the ground ever-so-slightly because running on an injured ankle made it worse?

“I mean, it was your idea. You can’t just call not it when it was your fault in the first place.” Logic and reason, Ford was rooting for Dipper on this one. He wasn’t exactly planning on scolding either of them, though, just waiting for them to finish their routine so he could clean up the mess. He was the adult, after all, being injured didn’t change that.

Mabel blew a raspberry at him. “I just di- he’s watching us by the way but I just did!” They both looked back at Ford and his.. Disappointed father stance against the doorframe, then Dipper cleared his throat and stepped in front of Mabel.

“We were just–” he began, folding his hands, but Ford silenced him with a raised hand.

He muttered in a steady tone, “save it. Are either of you hurt?” They were subjected to another quick examination, his eyes darting over them before Mabel responded.

“Uh, we didn’t really get far enough to get hurt..” She cast a wary glance toward the pot as Ford limped over to shut off the stove and waved away the smoke.

Dipper added, “but we did get far enough to completely obliterate that pot,” as Ford squinted into the charred bottom of the pot. There were a few bones resting in the bottom.

Concerning. In fact, all he could say to that was, “ho.. How?” with a baffled look at Dipper and Mabel. He carefully picked up the dish by the handles and set it in the sink to deal with later, then leaned against the counter and lifted his foot slightly. Ouf, he could feel a headache coming on already.. “What were you even attempting to.. Cremate?”

“Food,” the younger twins said in unison, then Dipper branched off. “We thought you’d like it if we cooked something nice..”

The only thing you cooked is your chances of entering this kitchen without supervision again, Ford thought, whatever was in that pot is far beyond “cooked”.

“Ah, a pot of bones,” Ford commented dryly, but added a chuckle in case the kids didn’t realize he was joking.

Dipper leaned over the sink with a playful smirk and pointed into the pot. “I mean, there’s also some ash in there if you look really closely.”

“And glitter!” Mabel added in a chirp, and all of a sudden Ford’s cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling.

He knelt down (awkwardly and painfully) to ruffle Mabel’s hair and rolled his eyes. “Of course there’s glitter, how could you forget glitter?” Then his expression dropped. ..Hold on a minute. “You were going to feed me glitter?”

Instead of explaining themselves, the kids each grabbed one of his hands and pulled him out of the room.

“Don’t worry about it!”

“We can handle the mess!”

“You need rest, Grunkle Ford!”

“Yeah, you’re hurt!”

They both reassured quickly before pushing him back onto the couch. Mabel scampered off to make the kitchen worse– I mean clean it, and Dipper lingered in the living room to fuss over his Grunkle. “You’ve gotta keep it elevated,” he reminded in a murmur as he lifted Ford’s foot onto the arm of the couch. “And what did I say about moving around?”

Ford cast a glare at the ceiling. His eye twitched. “Not for at least two days unless I absolutely have to.” He grumpily quoted what Dipper had told him an hour after he and Mabel got home. Knowing him, he probably spent that hour researching how to care for sprained ankles. Very sweet, but also a little bothersome because he was getting high and mighty advice from a child. “But this time–”

“Mabel and I had it under control! No buts, just..” Dipper sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Give yourself a break for once, okay?” Oh, great, now he was preaching it. The one person he thought was on his side had switched up on him. Wanted him to “rest”.

And yet he had no choice but to listen.

Begrudgingly.

So like any functional adult that wasn’t him, he shifted to make himself comfortable, turned his head toward the TV, shifted again because laying like that hurt his neck, let Dipper adjust his injured foot again, shifted, grumbled incoherently for the sake of grumbling, couldn’t reach the remote, and decided he couldn’t do this.

“I can’t do this.” His brows knitted together as he spoke. “I’m not.. Equipped for relaxation, Dipper.”

A muttered, “oh my god” from Dipper was not lost on him but he chose not to comment. “..okay. Compromise, then. Be stressed, but from a supine position.” That was.. Possible.

Ford crossed his arms and squared his jaw. He knew stress. He knew stress well. This was easy. He swung his legs off the couch to pace–

“Grunkle Ford! Lay! Down!” Scolded Dipper, causing him to flinch back into his original lying position. Yelled at by a child! At least that made being stressed easier! ..and a little harder as Dipper settled down on the couch by him to watch the TV. “Literally just.. Stare at the TV and do nothing. Grunkle Stan does it all the time, you’ll pick it up.”

He. Wasn’t. Stanley. Instead of saying that he decided to just sigh and look back at the television himself. “There’s nothing interesting on,” he complained, more of an excuse than anything. “Your Grunkle Stan thinks The Duchess Approves is quality television, he’ll watch anything.”

“Not anything, he won’t watch any more Dream Boy High with Mabel.” Ford watched as his nephew strained to reach the remote, nearly falling off the couch in the process. “But!” He tossed the remote in his hand with a flourish as if he didn’t almost just faceplant into the carpet. “We live in the future.” The remote clicked as he pressed a button on it, then Disney+ opened.

Hm, right, you can put applications on the TV. He forgot that sometimes. “We really do live in the future..” he whispered in astonishment.

“Let’s see, uh.. What’s something you’ll like..” Dipper thought out loud, scrolling through the selection of movies. ”Bambi? Too old. Uh.. Frozen? ..ehhh.. You wouldn’t like Inside Ou– oh!” He stopped on a movie called Big Hero 6. Ford wasn’t so sure about it, considering the big marshmallow guy on the cover.. Promo art thing, but the child was excited about it and damn his paternal instincts.

So, of course, he lied! “It looks interesting,” he stated. “Go on, play it. I can tell you want to.”

Grinning, Dipper put on the movie and they watched.

----

“Have I been perfect? No!” Aunt Cass ranted as she walked toward the building, nephews in tow. “Do I know anything about children? No!” She moved to unlock the door. “Should I have picked up a book on parenting!? Probably!”

Ford gestured with a hand toward the screen. “I can relate to this,” he stated blankly, eliciting a chuckle from Dipper. It was true. He had no idea how those kids hadn’t died yet under his and Stan’s care.

And.. they kept watching. A quick summary:

“Oh, there’s the marshmallow guy.”

“The whole ‘invention getting a person into college’ thing hits just a bit too close to home.”

“TADASHI NOOOOOOOOOO”

And so on. The ending? Pure agony. 10/10. He was wrong about not being interested. Stan and Mabel had joined them sometime during the movie and Mabel had long since made herself comfortable on top of his chest.

“Is that all I am to you?” Ford complained without any real bite in his voice. “A cushion?”

Mabel giggled in response, “you were gonna get up if I didn’t! I’m helping!” Then shifted to hug him and pulled Stan into it as well. “You and Grunkle Stan are the best cushions, anyway.”

“Quit bein’ sappy, Mabel.” Stan grumbled, though he hid most of his emotions beneath that gruff shell that was completely transparent to Ford. He was clearly trying not to cry. “I can’t take that right now.” He sniffed.

Dipper leaned over to look at him, pausing the credits with the push of a button. “Are you.. Crying?”

“Wow, would you look at that!” Stan whipped to his feet and enthusiastically pointed at the clock, reading 11:34. “It’s half an hour past your bedtime!” Instead of acknowledging Dipper and Mabel’s groans and protests, he nudged them toward the stairs with a grumpy, “eh!”

Then he turned to Ford with the same stern look. Why did that make him nervous?

“You too, Ford,” the dreaded words came out flatly, like they had no meaning. Ford shot him a glare as an unspoken no. “Don’t gimme that look. You need sleep if you wanna get better.” Stan knelt to nudge his shoulder. “Dipper told me everything.”

Oh, what a rat! ..Not actually he would never say that about his nephew.

He crossed his arms over his chest and tried to look like he wasn’t about to hoodwink his way out of.. “Bedtime”. Eugh. “You know I couldn’t sleep if I wanted to, I’m not tired whatsoev-”

A bottle of red gummies was slammed into the coffee table in front of him, causing him to flinch back and go silent. “..you were saying?” His twin gave an unimpressed look.

“Is that melatonin?” Asked Ford, clearly reading the “melatonin” label and knowing damn well it was melatonin. “In- In gummy form, nonetheless?” Being the pragmatic problem-solver he was, he’d already developed a plan. Stall for as long as possible. “Hey, wait– how long have you had those?”

As Stan opened the bottle and shook two gummies out, he realized it might be a little late to just rant about neurochemicals until he got bored and left. “Eat,” he ordered curtly and dumped them into his hand. “They’re pretty good, honestly.”

“You didn’t answer my-”

“Stop stalling.”

Ford let out a similar groan to those of Dipper and Mabel after being told to go to bed, then shoved the gummies into his mouth.

Hm. They weren’t bad.. Strawberry with a hint of some kind of chemical. Spicy in a weird way, but it was better than you’d expect a medication to taste.

“You know, I normally get my sugar-right-before-bed fix in via jellybeans,” he commented. Popping gummies just to sleep at night. Gummies. He couldn’t believe this.

Stan wasn’t impressed, brows lowered and a hand on his hip. “Sugar in something that’s supposed to put you to sleep would be stupid.” He closed up the bottle and shook it. “These don’t have sugar. Anyway, yeah, go to sleep.”

Ford let out a soft sigh as Stan ruffled his hair, blinked up at him a couple of times when he pulled his hand away, then watched as he undid the brace around his ankle (Dipper must have informed him that he wasn’t supposed to wear it in his sleep) and walked out of the room. He reached back in to turn off the light and called, “night, Ford.”

“..Goodnight, Stanley,” he murmured in response and turned over to go to sleep, figuring he had no other choice.

#gf ford #gravity falls ford #grunkle ford #ford pines #stanford pines #ford gravity falls #grunkle ford gravity falls #gravity falls #gf #fanfic #gravity falls fanfic #writing hell #also ty to my pal WILLIAM for reminding me to post this #love you william/p

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