#he has a twin??? he's not called stanford??? the author of the journals is grunkle 2??? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

invisibletinkerer · 5 years ago

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Fic: 30 Seconds Later (chapter 18)

Chapter 1 – Chapter 2 – Chapter 3 – Chapter 4 – Chapter 5 – Chapter 6 – Chapter 7 – Chapter 8 – Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18 - Chapter 19

Length: ~6000 words

AO3: archiveofourown.org/works/13715520/chapters/50183618

If it hadn’t been for those cracked ribs that made moving around more annoying than usual, Dipper might have been pacing the living room right now. As it was, he was seated in his grunkle’s TV chair with a stack of books and notebooks around him, chewing on the end of a battered ballpoint pen.

Grunkle Stan and uncle Ford should have been back hours ago, and yes, Stan had called Soos and said they’d be late, but that was also hours ago, and Soos hadn’t even thought to ask what had happened, and sure, Dipper could technically just pick up his phone and call right now and ask what took them so long, but if it was nothing grunkle Stan would just laugh at him and if it was something maybe no one would answer, or—

It was really, really hard not to think about Bill.

“You okay, dood?”

Dipper started, biting down on the pen, then winced from the jolt of pain from his ribs. He hadn’t even noticed Soos coming in.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” He dropped the pen and tried to smile.

“Hmm.” Soos said. “That’s what you want me to believe.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I can’t think of anything more to do today. Still waiting for those cement guys to come fix the foundation tomorrow, but otherwise we’d be ready to open up the Mystery Shack again.” He paused. “Once Mr Pines has gotten things sorted out with his brother, I suppose.”

“Are you going home?” For some reason, the thought made Dipper uncomfortable. It was nice to at least have Soos tinkering around the house when grunkle Stan was away and Dipper himself couldn’t go anywhere.

“Nah. Think I’ll stay and wait for Mr Pines.”

“Oh, good. I mean, sure.”

Soos put a couple of books down on Dipper’s lap so he could sit on the dinosaur skull, then turned on the TV to some local news station. “So, tomorrow is the finale of Ducktective, huh?” he said conversationally.

“Yes!” Mabel shouted from the kitchen before Dipper could reply. “It’s finally time to find out who’s been outsmarting Ducktective all through the season! I think it’s that suspicious-looking cat – either that or it’s Ducktective’s own secret twin brother.”

“I have questions about the dog, though.”

“Look at this!” Mabel came rushing from the kitchen and twirled, showing off the duck portrait on her new sweater. “I finished my Ducktective sweater, and these hats, too. Now we can all be Ducktectives!”

Mabel, of course, would always be Mabel. Today she’d been so relentlessly enthusiastic that Dipper simply had to admire it. If she were worrying about anything, she definitely didn’t show it.

And really, Dipper hadn’t had a bad day himself. It had even been nice to spend some time indoors for a change. And completely regardless of any bad dreams or worries about demonic possession, he’d gotten a promise from the actual author of the Journals to play DDD with him later—just thinking about it made him giddy. Except that was assuming Stan and Ford would come back okay. And that he wouldn’t go back on the promise because he was— Well, Ford being too skittish and paranoid and tired to play games wasn’t totally unrealistic. Especially if something had happened.

Dipper realized to his own dismay that he was already chewing on another pen.

At first, when he’d thought grunkle Stan and uncle Ford would be back soon-ish, he’d spent a lot of time making DDD characters. First he made fantasy versions of himself and Ford, then he kept going with other people too just because he could. After adding Mabel, Stan, Soos, Wendy, Grenda and Candy, and even Li’l Gideon for good measure, he went on to make up game stats for Gravity Falls gnomes, and finally, with some input from Mabel, unicorns. Then, while Mabel biked down to town to buy more craft supplies and snacks, he’d spent some time catching up on the mystery novels he’d brought from home but hadn’t had time to read before. He’d wanted to take a look at uncle Ford’s other two journals, but Mabel told him Ford had put all three of them away in a locked cabinet, so that was out. He’d have to ask Ford about it once they came back. Which they still hadn’t.

“Can I be Ducktective?” Soos asked, bringing Dipper back to the present.

Mabel promptly put one of the hats on Soos’ head. “Of course you can! Dipper, you want one too?”

Dipper shook his head. “Maybe tomorrow.” He was not in a Ducktective mood.

“Okay.” Mabel pushed a book aside and squeezed herself down on the chair next to Dipper. “But stop worrying, bro-bro.” She might have been reading his mind. “Grunkle Stan and uncle Ford are fine. Grunkle Stan can punch out bears, zombies, gremloblins…” She counted on her fingers.

Dipper grimaced. “I know, but...”

Mabel pressed her shoulder against Dipper’s in lieu of a hug. “It’ll be fine,” she said, softer.

“Hey, doods,” Soos interrupted, pointing at the TV. “I think someone died.”

Both twins tensed for a moment, focusing on the screen.

No, of course it wasn’t about Stan.

“Heh.” Dipper released the breath he’d caught in his throat. “That old mayor… Yeah.”

“Mayor Befufflefumpter was an old and esteemed man,” Soos said solemnly, removing his Ducktective hat in respect.

“He did look kinda dying back at the Northwest party,” Mabel said with a small grin that turned into a grimace. “I mean, more than the rest of us.”

Dipper nodded. “And that was… was that just three days ago?”

“Yeah. Feels like longer.” Mabel frowned. “But at least grunkle Stan isn’t that old! I think.”

“No, he’s got to be—”

Dipper completely forgot what he was about to say when the front door to their left flew open with a bang.

For a moment, Stanford was silhouetted against the low-hanging sun, coat billowing around him and clutching Stan’s duffelbag his arms. The next moment he was gone down the hallway without a word, slamming the door shut behind him again.

No one moved for several moments.

“Where’s Mr Pines?” Soos asked slowly.

Dipper shivered. Uncle Ford, alone, rushing by without a word and without— This was too familiar. Too much like the worst case scenarios he’d been trying not to think about. He licked his lips. “Did anyone see if uncle Ford was…?” The words got stuck in his throat.

“I couldn’t see,” Mabel said quietly. Soos shook his head, too. And if they hadn’t seen his eyes either, then Dipper had to assume the worst.

His hand found Mabel’s, holding it tight. “We need to find out.” He forced himself to slip out of the chair, not sure if he was pulling Mabel along or she was pulling him.

“I’ll protect you!” Soos promised, getting in front of them. “But, uh, where did he go?”

“Maybe to the museum?” Mabel suggested, warily starting to move down the hallway Ford had disappeared into.

Dipper nodded. That was as good a guess as any. He could also have gone to Stan’s workshop, or to the bathroom, or—well, to Ford’s warded study. But if it was Bill, he wouldn’t be able to enter that room, and if it wasn’t Bill, why would he have come alone and ran off without showing his eyes? It was up to the three of them to find him and stop him from whatever he was doing and find out what had happened to—

A new sound behind them made them all jump. Dipper’s heart had already been trying to beat its way out of his chest, and now it seemed to stop completely. Somehow he’d turned around, instinctively clinging to Mabel, and with Soos’ arm lodged between them and the new threat, when he realized what the sound had been. The front door had opened again, less violently this time, and someone else was standing in the doorframe.

“Grunkle Stan!” He and Mabel both ducked under Soos’ arm and threw themselves at him.

“Whoa,” Stan said, awkwardly returning the hug. “Kids, take it easy, I’m—”

“Mr Pines!” Soos threw his arms up. “You’re okay!”

“Yeah, sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” Stan pushed the twins away a bit from himself, then cleared his throat. “Did Ford— I mean, he did get in here, didn’t he? Where did he go?”

Dipper and Mabel pointed down the hall. “He ran past without even looking at us!” Mabel said.

“And we couldn’t see his eyes,” Dipper added.

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose, looking tired. “Of course. He couldn’t have—” He chuckled slightly. “That’s why you look so spooked?”

Dipper and Mabel glanced at each other, then spoke at the same time.

“You’re saying he’s not—”

“Does that mean he’s—”

“Why did you—”

Stan waved them to silence. The way he seemed more exasperated than alarmed about this was strangely reassuring. “That was Ford, kids.”

“Are you sure?” Dipper’s shoulders might be relaxing a bit, but he still couldn’t help having some doubts.

“Uh-huh.” Stan finally entered the house and closed the door behind him. Taking a deep breath, he scratched the side of his head. “He was pretty distracted – probably didn’t even realize he was scaring you. I bet he went straight for the barrier.”

Dipper could still feel his heart beating too fast, but Stan wouldn’t lie about that. Probably. And if Ford was inside the barrier, then all would be fine.

“See?” Mabel said, maybe to Dipper and maybe to herself. “Everything’s fine.” She started to smile, but then she stopped and stared at Stan. “Wait. Grunkle Stan, you’re bleeding.”

Dipper took a closer look at Stan, and Mabel was right. There was a large matted red-brown stain in his grey hair, like he’d hit his head a while ago. Besides, he realized, Stan’s hawaii shirt was torn at the shoulder and there were several ugly, new-looking bruises on his exposed arms and legs. It looked like he’d been fighting, and without having seen the other guy Dipper wasn’t sure if he’d won or not. Unless the other guy was Ford, and then—

Stan hmphed and picked up his fez from the coat hanger, putting it on his head and hiding the blood. “I knew nothing good could come from leaving the fez at home.”

Mabel took Stan’s arm – putting a hand over a large red bruise – and cradled it. “Did you get into a fight?” she asked. “With uncle Ford? Is that—Is that why you didn’t come back together?”

“What? No, sweetie, we—” Stan stopped with a sigh. “Heck, that’s what it looks like, isn’t it? No, really, Ford is not possessed and we didn’t fight. We actually got along pretty great.” He smiled tiredly.

“But something happened.” Dipper crossed his arms.

Stan shrugged. “Yeah. Most importantly, the demon didn’t destroy the world, the rift is sealed in a superglued briefcase and—” He flashed a grin “—Ford and I still make a pretty good team.” He pulled his arm back from Mabel. “Come on, let’s go see how he’s doing.”

* * *

Ford locked the door behind him on sheer panicked fumes, the need to hide the rift away overriding all other concerns. There were too many unlocked doors in this house. The front door was unlocked – he didn’t even have the key to the front door. Was it ever locked or could anyone just go inside? What was Stanley thinking?

The liquor cabinet was the only additional lockable space in the room. He had to take the journals out to make the sealed briefcase fit inside, and after relocking the cabinet he ended up sitting on the floor before it, clutching three hand-bound volumes of his own hubris close to his stinging chest.

Trying to breathe. Trying to think.

The light from the stained-glass window above the couch taunted him. He’d boarded that window up – 30 years ago – for a reason. It wasn’t safe.

Someone pulled at the door, and Ford flinched. But it was locked, and no one entered.

“Stanford?”

“Stanley.” Ford let his forehead fall forward against the books he was holding. There were goosebumps running up and down his arms, but at least his voice wasn’t shaking. “Did he follow you?”

“Who?” Dipper’s voice interrupted, and Ford realized with a start that Stanley wasn’t alone. There was a family there, and it wasn’t that he minded their presence necessarily, but their very existence reminded him again of how little control he had of anything. It wasn’t his house. It wasn’t his family. As much as he’d managed to slip back into some kind of comfort zone with Stanley – he wasn’t even sure the 60-year-old man could count as his twin. Nevertheless, the threat to the world was still his responsibility.

“He didn’t follow,” Stanley said. “And if he had, it would have been because he was concerned that you took off like a loon, not because he would actually rob us.”

“How can you be so sure?” Dan hadn’t tried anything, no, but— “He was in contact with Bill!”

“For one dream. He was gonna laugh it off! And then you practically screamed at him that something suspicious is going on!”

Ford snapped his jaws shut at Stanley’s exasperated tone. There was some sense in his brother’s point of view, but only if Dan really had been harmless. But if Ford was right, his reaction had been the only reasonable one. “You can’t know that he would have laughed it off. And even if he would, Bill might contact him again. Or anyone else. Do you understand what that means?”

“Yeah.” Stanley’s voice softened. “Can I—Can we come in?”

Ford stiffened automatically. “Why?”

Because—” Stanley seemed to hesitate. “Please,” he said finally.

Ford couldn’t help a weak smile at that. “You used to hate that word.”

“Still do. But, you know. Could you open the door? Please.”

If Stanley was doing Bill’s bidding, he this would be exactly the kind of manipulation that—

No.

No, Stanley wouldn’t. And Ford knew that perfectly well, especially after everything that had happened today. There was no good reason not to open the door. It was just Stanley and his family. They’d probably go away if he told them to, but that would leave him alone to stew in his own thoughts again, and—did he want that?

He’d been so used to being alone. But everything was different now. He was safe from Bill’s reach in this room. The children had fought for him. And Stanley was—Stanley was back at his side, despite everything, and today they’d been a team again.

He should let them in.

Ford shook his head, squeezed the journals one last time before hiding them under the pile of blankets on the floor next to the couch, then going to open the door.

Stanley was leaning against the doorframe on the other side. He was wearing their father’s fez again, but his expression was one their father would never wear. “Thanks,” he said.

Behind him were Mabel, Dipper and Soos, looking at him with varying degrees of relief. Ford could see all of their eyes, all of them human, though of course that didn’t have to mean anything when Bill could manipulate without possessing. Still. They wouldn’t.

His old twin went past him with a pat on his arm and went to sit on the couch, followed by the others. Ford remained standing, even when Stanley beckoned for him to sit down. No. He needed to explain himself, first.

“Listen, Stanley,” he said, closing the door behind them. “All I’m saying is that you can’t be sure that he was harmless. It would have been easy for him, and he obviously didn’t understand the stakes. You’re not a mind reader – you don’t know how tempted he was to try!”

“True,” Stanley admitted with a small shrug.

“And even if there was no harm done, we shouldn’t have risked accepting that ride.” He gestured with both hands for emphasis. “Anyone could be manipulated by Bill, enough to—”

“Enough to break and enter into an old tourist trap for no reason?” Stanley shook his head. “Because most people wouldn’t. And—” He leaned forward, “—if someone does, we’ll deal with it.”

“But we don’t—”

“Anyway, you scared the kids half to death when you rushed through the door just now,” Stanley interrupted, straightening his back. “They were convinced you were Bill until I showed up.”

Ford blinked, thrown by the sudden information. “Oh.” He’d been focused on getting the rift out of danger – had there been people in the living room? Had they seen him? “I didn’t mean to—I mean—That’s unfortunate.”

“It’s fine, uncle Ford,” Dipper said. He was, indeed, looking rather warily at Ford, but he also had a wry look like he was ashamed of being scared. Like there was no reason to be afraid, when in fact there was every reason.

“No, I—” Ford ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll try to do better.” It could have been Bill. He needed to make sure it was clear that it wasn’t, next time. Alternatively, just stay in this room. That would be the safer option.

“Hey,” Mabel said. “Can you tell us now what happened to you guys today?”

“Well.” Stanley glanced her, then at Ford. “We ran into Manly Dan on the way back. Turns out he’d just had some kinda dream about Ford’s demon friend.”

Ford flinched. “Don’t call him that.”

“What? Manly Dan?”

Stanley was being flippant, playing stupid, and that was so achingly familiar that Ford had a weird urge to grab the old man before him and give him a noogie. He didn’t. Instead he said, back straight and both hands behind his back, “Bill is not my friend.”

“I know that, Poindexter.”

“But,” Dipper said, “Manly Dan didn’t attack you, right?” His eyes went from Stanley’s obvious bruises to Ford’s tattered clothing and badly hidden bandages.

“Nah, that was something else. Had a run-in with some local weirdness.” To Ford’s great relief, Stanley seemed ready to leave it at that, though the children didn’t appreciate it as much.

“Hey! You promised no more secrets!”

Stanley looked at Ford, raising his eyebrows as if asking permission.

Ford took a deep breath. “Not now,” he said. “Perhaps later.” Perhaps when his mind wasn’t reeling quite so much. Seating himself carefully on Stanley’s other side, he changed the subject to the most important facts. “In any case, I sealed the rift in a sturdier container that will make it more difficult to break. It still exists, and is still a danger if stolen, but it’s—safer than before.”

He swallowed down another unhelpful measure of fear. “But the fact remains that Bill wants it. And you would do well to remember that he could appear in anyone’s dream, trying to deceive or tempt.” He paused, looking at the Dipper, Mabel and Soos. “Have any of you had any strange dreams, or—”

“It’s been my policy since preschool never to listen to the advice of a triangle,” Soos said solemnly. Ford glared at him. This was no joking matter, and it was especially concerning that the young man seemed completely sincere.

Dipper grimaced. “I have bad dreams about Bill all the time,” he admitted, looking very small. Ford lifted a hand to console him, but put it down again. He had no idea how to even start. The boy might even have mundane nightmares about Bill, some of which were now Ford’s fault.

“We all know about Bill.” Mabel said confidently, putting an arm around Dipper’s shoulders. “We’re not going to listen to him, especially not in a dream.”

“Yes.” Ford found himself relaxing slightly. “I know you won’t.” He did know that – and the fact that he was sure about it made it slightly easier to breathe. “But it’s not just you. You see, even if Dan Corduroy didn’t decide to rob us, Bill could—Bill could appear in anyone’s dreams. And if he decides to work on tricking someone—” He stopped, unable to bring himself to say ‘like he worked on me’.

The kids looked reasonably worried at that, but Stanley crossed his arms. “Yeah,” he said. “But hey. It still has to be someone willing to do a robbery, and I’m the closest this town’s got to a professional burglar.” Ford raised his eyebrows at that, making Stanley grin. “And even thirty years ago,” he continued, “I would’ve been kinda put off by the idea of stealing an unopenable briefcase just because some triangular guy in a dream told me to.”

Ford nodded slowly. “That might be true, but—” He hesitated. It might be true for Stanley, but he knew from experience that he couldn’t have said the same for himself. “Someone else may welcome the challenge. Or be convinced that the briefcase contains something they desperately need. Or—I don’t know—have a particular grudge against you and your Mystery Hut!”

“Mystery Shack,” Stanley corrected, completely missing the point. He added, “If it happens, we’ll handle it. I promise you that.”

“There’d be no need to handle it if you’d used the—” Ford mumbled between his teeth, but Stanley heard and interrupted him.

“Don’t.” The word hung in the air for a moment until Ford relented with a sigh, leaning back and turning his eyes to the ceiling.

Stanley gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“Just—” Ford took a deep breath. “Just be careful. We don’t know who Bill might try to manipulate.”

“Yes, young-Mr-Pines, Sir!” Soos said with a clumsy salute, still looking completely serious. Ford tried not to scowl. The young man whose relationship to Stanley still hadn’t been properly explained to him seemed simple, but might easily be the weakest link in their defenses.

Dipper chose this moment to square his shoulders and straighten his back. “Uncle Ford!” he said. “Do you want to play Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons with me?”

Ford blinked as he switched gears, as he admitted to himself that yes, he wanted to. The very mention of the game made the corners of his mouth want to curl into a smile, and after a moment he gave in to it. He’d been looking forward to it. He was still alive, still somewhat sane, and—this place was as safe as it was going to be. There was still danger, and playing a game was selfish and irresponsible in the face of that, but—

But he wanted more than anything to allow himself to get lost in a harmless, nostalgic fantasy world with neat statistical values. And he could. “I would love to.”

Stanley whistled. “There’s hope for you yet, ya big nerd,” he said fondly.

Dipper made a little excited jump in the couch, marred by small wince and touching his ribs, but his smile didn’t falter. “I’ll go get the books!” He hurriedly left the room, returning quickly with a set of rulebooks, character sheets, graph paper, DM screens, dice and other game pieces that he set down in Ford’s lap.

“Look, here, I made a bunch of characters that are kind of based on us, and some monsters here, and I’ve been thinking about what kind of dungeon we should play, and I was hoping you could be the DM, but—”

Ford flipped through the core rulebook while listening to Dipper’s thoughts about the game. Dipper might be a child, but he certainly knew his way around Dungeons, Dungeons and more Dungeons. There was something so normal about his excitement, about the idea of running a dungeon for him, something that felt like a breeze of fresh air across Ford’s murky mind.

It was okay. Bill could not and would not reach him right now.

Soos departed for wherever it was he lived before long, and Stanley said something about food and disappeared for the kitchen. Mabel was on her way to leave the room, too, but Dipper just looked silently at her – and then she stayed, settling by the desk and starting to draw some kind of bird on a piece of paper.

Something clenched inside Ford when he realized that Dipper’s rulebook didn’t actually have the same rules he knew. Even DDD was different from his game. He pushed the stinging feeling away – he could handle this – this was what he had to work with if he wanted to play with Dipper. The new rules mostly made sense and were in some ways actually more efficient than the ones Ford knew. In fact, if he’d stopped to think about it, using his mind for something as completely frivolous as memorizing new game mechanics was like a palate cleanser. An easy and thoroughly accomplishable task, for once. He was still tired, and hurt, but all of that was shuffled off to the back of his mind as he started to focus on the fantasy.

Dipper assured him that he knew the rule book well enough that Ford could always ask him about the specifics, so it took no more than ten or fifteen minutes for Ford to feel confident enough to run a basic dungeon. The boy had been making characters, so he already had a halfling ranger ready for himself, and an elven wizard NPC that he’d made for Ford. In fact, he had made a whole stack of character sheets, but one PC and one NPC for support was enough to run a simple adventure. This would be a test run.

Stanley interrupted them with “food for the nerds” – some macaroni and cheese for the children and another canned soup for Ford – but after eating, they were ready to start. Ford sat down straight-backed on the floor, closed his eyes for a moment and tried to recall how to set a scene. The traditional taverna. Rowdy NPCs imparting information. A kidnapped princess and directions to the evil mage’s lair.

Ford had expected himself to be rusty at first, but somehow, the game flowed.

Dipper was a bright player, using his character’s abilities to the best effect, and always willing to be thorough in his exploration. He did indeed have a good grasp of the minutiae of the rules, but he avoided exploiting them in ways that didn’t make sense. It was a joy to see him think and fight his way past the monsters and traps, and Ford could keep his wizard NPC mostly to support spells, discussion of worldbuilding details, and kindly mentor advise.

When Dipper at one point was stumped by a trap, his sister unexpectedly appeared from the sidelines and pointed out a solution Ford hadn’t even thought about.

“I didn’t think you wanted to play!” Dipper said, surprised.

“Nah, I’m not playing, just helping you out!” she said. “By the way,” she added, “You should try to use that magic mirror you found upside down. See what happens!”

Clever. Judging by Dipper’s frown that variation wasn’t in the rulebook, but Ford could see how it would make a difference. And even more interestingly – in order to have made such an observation, she must have been following the game rather closely for a while.

Dipper didn’t seem to mind his sister’s input as they went on. On the contrary, they made a good team. If DDD had even existed when Stanford and Stanley were their age, Ford could easily imagine Stanley refusing to play but then jumping in like this – a painful thought in all its warmth. The game had been published only after Stanley had been gone. And he seriously doubted—well, the present-day Stanley would surely not even consider it.

In any case, Mabel was creative, and Ford saw no reason why she shouldn’t be a player.

The short dungeon he’d set out to run for Dipper was almost over, but Ford felt inspired to continue, so he turned to the girl and asked her if she wanted to be the princess.

“Wasn’t the princess kidnapped?”

“She might have already escaped. If you want to play her, that is.”

“Well…” She frowned. “I don’t want to do any math homework! I’m just here to help Dipper’s character out of trouble. Or into trouble!”

“Then do that as your own character,” Ford encouraged her. “I’m sure Dipper can handle all your dice rolls and calculations”

“Yes, of course!” Dipper agreed. “Come on, Mabel! I have a character here for you and everything!” He pulled out a halfling bard from the pile of character sheets. “I didn’t know she was a princess, but I suppose—”

Mabel pursed her mouth. “Can I have purple hair and gemstones in my eyes?”

“Uh.” That sounded painful. “You can, if you want to.”

“Okay!”

Ford told her that the princess had been able to escape on her own, but she’d overheard the evil mage talking about his plans to lure adventurers into a trap and use their brains for a nefarious potion to give himself the power to conquer the world. She was now running through the dungeon when she stumbled upon Dipper’s character.

Mabel obviously had the ability to get massively in character if she wanted to. She told the story of the mage’s evil plan in a lot more detail than Ford had, gesturing wildly for emphasis. “This means we gotta stop that evil wizard guy and save all the people he’s already captured!” She physically pulled at Dipper’s vest. “Come on, we have to hurry before he eats their brains!”

Ford improvised a second dungeon on top of the first one, this one being the mage’s actual castle. The enemies here were stronger and the layout more convoluted, but with Mabel as an active player, the adventurer party was also stronger and more unpredictable.

The first time he made a zombie come lumbering towards them, Dipper immediately took on a fighting stance, but Mabel looked excited.

“I’m a princess bard, right? So I’ll sing at it! If it doesn’t work, you two will have to sing with me!”

Ford raised his eyebrows. He’d seen real life zombies defeated by song, but in the context of the game, he’d never heard of it. “Are there any zombie-defeating bard songs in this version of the game?” he asked Dipper. “Or should we—”

“We’ll make one up,” Dipper decided. “What do you call it, Mabel?”

“The Song of Triple Rainbow Light,” she replied with a zombie-killing grin.

Ford and Dipper quickly agreed on some spell stats and added it to her character sheet while Mabel described colorfully how it looked and sounded. Rolling the die, the song didn’t defeat the zombie on its own, but it weakened it enough that Dipper could vanquish it the next round. The kids hi-fived.

“Way easier than real zombies,” Dipper said, but before Ford could think to ask him about it, Mabel pulled their adventuring party along, wanting to know what was ahead.

What was ahead was the literal dungeon, a row of prison cells. The first one was ominously empty.

Ford looked up for a moment, and Stanley unexpectedly met his eyes from the couch. How long had he been sitting there? A small shiver ran over Ford as he realized that he was so caught up in the game that he hadn’t even noticed his brother’s presence. And if he didn’t notice what was going on around him, how could he be ready if—

“Hey, Ford?” Stanley said.

“Yes?”

“Think there’s any other prisoners in any of those cells?”

Ford blinked. Had Stanley been paying attention? “Well, the players haven’t checked yet, so—” He’d been thinking about adding a cleric to the party before the confrontation with the evil mage, but it wasn’t absolutely necessary. “Why do you ask?”

Stanley’s eyes flicked to the side. “No reason.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Only. Maybe there’s some big strong fighter type who ended up in wizard jail through no fault of his own and would be willing to help a couple of kids out with the monster punching business. And gathering pretend treasure. Hypothetically.”

Ford stared at him.

“Grunkle Stan!” Dipper squeaked. “Are you going to join us?”

“Yeah, well, can’t let you pipsqueaks have all the fun without me, can I?” He grimaced. “And you can stop staring, Sixer. This doesn’t mean I’m a nerd, just that I’m willing to try it out. Ok?”

Ford might possibly have been literally beaming. “Of course,” he said weakly. There was something suspiciously like real happiness surging through him, and he didn’t know what to do with it. “Dipper, you had a fighter character based on Stanley ready, didn’t you?”

Adding Stanley to the party made it easier for the adventurers to take on multiple enemies at once, which was good, because Stanley tended to favor a brute force solution to every situation, being loud and boisterous and more than a little bit reckless. Sometimes it didn’t work, but Ford was rather certain he chose to play this way on purpose. At one point he ended up in a trap and made the kids laugh with his daring playing-with-death slapstick antics.

It was fun.

It took all of his focus away from everything else to the point where he didn’t even remember to question it, and it was fun.

The final confrontation with the evil mage became tense – a few unfortunate dice rolls disabled Mabel’s and Ford’s characters and severely wounded Dipper’s – and Ford was already thinking of ways to salvage this in case it ended in a TPK. At that point Stanley announced that he’d put his character’s every point into an insanely risky move that would involve channeling power that he really wasn’t made to channel. The chances of succes would be abysmal, but if successful, Ford conceded it might be their only chance to take the mage down once and for all before the whole party was vanquished.

Afterwards, Ford suspected Stanley might have cheated on the die roll. It didn’t matter. He saw it roll, and he saw it land on a perfect natural 38, saving the day and the game, and all he could do was laugh.

It was hours past midnight when they stopped playing, but for once Ford was just comfortably tired rather than exhausted. The kids were yawning but happy. Stanley decided without objections from anyone to bring a few raggedy old mattresses and bedclothes down and let all of them sleep right here in Ford’s room.

Ford fell asleep almost as soon as he closed his eyes, and slept until noon. If he dreamt, he had no memories of it.

#gravity falls #fanfic #30 seconds later #it writes #guess what?#this fic is still a thing that is happening

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nightfoliage · 6 years ago

Text

Fic - Trick, Treat, or Change

Series: Gravity Falls

Pairing: Stanford Pines/Stanley Pines - Stancest

For: @wannabeagrunklefan

Prompt: Ford and Stan’s first Halloween together after the finale.

Prompts for @a-stancest-halloween (traditional category): Candy flavored kisses, pumpkins and jack o lanterns, Halloween on the Stan o War, Trick or Treat

Tags: incest, twincest, canon verse, third person, mostly Ford’s POV, unreliable narrator, injuries and description of injuries, amnesia, selective amnesia, lies of omissions, Halloween, Pines Family, extended family and friends, gratuitous amount of emotions, fluff, romance, kissing, tropes tropes tropes, A Stancest Halloween

Word Count ~16.3k

Summary: It’s like a dream come true on the Stan o’ War. Stan and Ford are having the time of their lives; having action packed adventures, traveling to unknown lands, and discovering anomalies together.

But when the adventures end, they find themselves unsure what to do with themselves. They haven’t lived together or talked to each other in years and it shows with every awkward silence.

Then October rolls around and Stan bring a blast from the past. They decide to celebrate Halloween like they’re kids again. Suddenly they’re getting along and are closer than ever. Ford’s enjoying all these changes and the celebrations. Stan is really going to town with all these very familiar Halloween traditions...

Author’s Note: I had a lot a lot of fun with this one, but it was a pain to edit. It’s a whopping 50 page oneshot. If you enjoy the fic, let me know. I was considering doing one from Stan’s POV. Hope you guys enjoy~

Read below or on ao3:

“Pines! Pines! Pines!”

The kraken swings a tentacle in their direction, but it’s too late, their boat is sailing off into the distance. The creature makes a truly dreadful croaking sound, but the Stan’s are already laughing it up. They wind their arms around each other’s shoulders and cheer even with the wind and the waves crashing against them.

The boat swings dangerously towards the water and they break apart to man the ship. Ford goes to steer while Stan controls the sail. They work in tandem with each other, easily navigating the rough waters.

There are a few close waves, but they eventually break out of the storm into calm waters. The rain clouds are behind them and they can see the stars. The starlight shines brilliantly against the night sky and reflect against the water.

Then Stan breaks into a yawn, which causes Ford to break into a yawn.

They chuckle and start slapping each other’s backs before getting to their nightly routines. They set the anchor down and start folding the sail. Then they enter the cabin.

Stan immediately starts stripping and piles his wet clothes in the corner for later. He snags some water, then he strides off towards the bathroom.

Ford frowns at the mess.

“Stan, I’m going to throw your clothes outside!” Ford hollars after him.

Stan makes a positive sound, which makes Ford sigh. It was supposed to be a threat not a favor. Maybe Stan could endure salt crusted clothing, but Ford been on the run for enough years that he was going to enjoy having clean clothes after an adventure.

Instead of tossing Stan’s clothes out like he threatened, Ford scoops them up so he can hang them up to dry. Then he takes off his jacket and his shoes and puts those aside. He can deal with those later after chronicling their latest adventure. Pulling his latest journal out, he starts writing about their encounter. It was always best to write things down while the events were fresh.

Meanwhile, Stan heats up the water in the tank and makes sure to drink his water. He takes out just enough hot water to wipe himself off and to rinse himself. He doesn’t like roughing it, but old habits die hard. Even the word “rationing” makes Stan want to start to counting their money. Instead he takes inventory of their pantry everyday and keeps the showers to a minimum.

Once he’s clean and dry he goes out to the kitchen to heat up some hot soup for them before they go to sleep.

Then he spots Ford.

The man is still in his wet clothes for pete's sake! All twelve of his fingers must be going blue and Stan bets that Ford hadn’t even hydrated. They were miles and miles away from shore. What would happen if Ford got sick?

To add insult to injury, the thing that grabbed Ford’s attention is one of those dang journals. Didn’t those things cause enough trouble?

Stan goes over to the table and snatches the journal.

“Hey! The ink wasn’t dry!” Ford cries out.

“The ink wasn’t dry,” Stan snorts. Before Ford can protest, Stan manhandles his brother out of his chair, then out of his wet clothes, and pushes him into the shower.

Ford grumbles the whole time, but goes about taking a shower when he realizes the water is hot.

In the meantime, Stan hangs up his brother’s clothing then heats up vegetable soup for the two of them. It’s one of the recipes Mabel and Dipper sent over, which means it has plenty of fiber, is easy to eat without his dentures, but flavorful enough that Stan won’t complain about eating old people food. He waters it down. It’ll last longer and they’ll get more water this way.

When it’s heating, Stan’s attention is brought back to the journal on the table.

He sighs and turns it towards him. A picture of the Kraken looks out from the page at him. Stan admires the picture. It’s a great rendition and the story will be a hit with the kids. He gently brushes a finger against one of the tentacles and his fingers come back black. Stan frowns. The ink really wasn’t dry.

Keeping an eye on the soup, Stan gently blows on the page until the image is dry. He double checks the rest of the pages, also dry, then gently shelves the journal along with the others.

In the other room, Ford is enjoying his shower. The hot water is heavenly and he makes sure to use his favorite soap and loofah. He lets the water wash his previous irritation with Stan away and indulges in thinking about what adventure the two of them will have next.

When he’s finally done and dry he goes to get dressed in their room.

Ford lightly shivers. It was probably a good idea to take a hot shower after the cold rain.

He shivers again and rubs his arms. Or maybe the boat was getting cold. It wasn’t summer anymore, they were well into September and they were traveling pretty far north.

He puts on another layer and grabs a layer for Stan. Then he starts the heater. Ford’s coming off the adrenaline and it isn’t long before they both crash. Stan in particular has worries about the cold, so Ford points the heater towards Stan’s bed.

When Ford goes into the kitchen, Stan has already doled out soup for the both of them. He tosses the jacket to Stan, who puts it on.

They’re both exhausted and crashing from their high so they eat in silence.

Or maybe that’s just on Stan’s end, because Ford would love to talk about the kraken, but Stan has already put away his journal. Sometimes Ford can get passionate about the journals, so he can understand why Stan might want some quiet time before bed.

Unbeknownst to Ford, Stan is having similar thoughts. Stan wants to ask how the soup is so he can report back to the kids. And he wouldn’t mind staying up longer, but Ford seems a little subdued. Maybe he’s still sour about Stan putting away the journal.

After they finish their meal they quietly get ready for bed. They settle in for the night. The room is warm, their bellies are full, and it’s quiet. The conditions are perfect for sleeping, however neither of them do.

Instead, Ford is perfectly still, turned away from his brother, pretending to sleep. He keeps his breathing even and silent because he doesn’t want to disturb Stan.

Stan is turning and adjusting every few moments, trying to get comfortable. His breathing is a bit heavy, but the movement and the sound isn’t very different from his resting state.

Neither of them talk to each other even though they desperately want to.

-000-

Ford and Stan have a few more adventures that go perfectly (depending on your definition of perfect). The important thing is that they’re the best of partners and manage to get through every obstacle whole and alive.

However, they’re still working on being civil to each other in their downtime. Often times, they avoid each other. One is outside while the other is indoor, or they’re in different areas of the deck, or they try not to be in the same with each other besides when they sleep or talk to the kids.

It’s tiring and when they find themselves restocking at a port city, they make excuses to separate from each other.

When Ford is out of range, Stan calls Mabel and Dipper. He opts out of calling them face to face, instead only leaving the audio on.

“Grunkle Stan!” Mabel shrieks into the phone.

“Hey, Grunkle Stan!” Dipper says, just enthusiastically but not as loud.

It makes Stan chuckle and smile. Totally worth the loss of hearing. “Hey, kids! I had a few minutes so I wanted to call.”

Immediately Mabel and Dipper fill in their uncle about the going ons in their lives. Middle school is both simultaneously the greatest and the worstest (Mabel’s exact words). The worstest, because of puberty, cliques, and they’re in separate classes all the time (on purpose, the school tries to separate twins). But the greatest because unlike elementary, there are tons of people and they’ve found their respective niches in school.

Luckily, their new friends are cool enough to accept Dipper and Mabel’s close relationship. They’ve gotten more friends out of it as a result.

“So what about you, Grunkle Stan? What’s shaking?” Mabel asks when they’ve finally exhausted the topic of school.

Well, Stan was hoping being on a boat together would solve all of his problems with his brother, but apparently even the Stan o’ War can’t produce miracles.

Instead, Stan talks about teenage appropriate adventures for the twins. However, he makes the mistake of mentioning the soup.

“Oh yeah, Ford and I tried the soup recipe. It was great,” Stan says off-handedly. He’s staring at some potential provisions for the boat.

“You liked it? How about Grunkle Ford? Was there enough fiber?” Dipper asks.

“Uh...” Now that he thinks about it, Ford never mentioned whether or not he liked the soup. And he never did ask.

Well, a small fib couldn’t hurt them.

“Oh, he thought it was great, and a great source of nutrition,” Stan says.

There, that was something Ford would say.

“Can I talk to him? He had some strong opinions on the necessity of onions, but I thought it might be okay if they were cooked instead of raw,” Dipper goes on.

“Yeah! You there, Grunkle Ford?” Mabel pipes in.

Stan mentally curses.

“Sorry kids, he can’t come to the phone,” Stan says.

“Can’t come to the phone? Is he okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, he’s fine. We just aren’t shopping together.”

There’s silence from the other end. Then the twins start whispering quietly enough that Stan can’t pick up their words.

Mabel speaks first: “Are you two fighting, Grunkle Stan?”

“What? No,” Stan automatically says.

“Are you sure, Grunkle Stan? Everything’s okay between you and Grunkle Ford?” This time, Dipper is the one to pose the question.

Stan hesitates, which was probably the worst thing he could do. The kids could smell blood in the water.

“Ah ha!” Mabel exclaims loudly into the receiver. “Grunkle Stan! Just tell us what’s wrong!”

“There’s nothing wrong between the nerd and I,” Stan says.

“If there’s nothing wrong, then why are you so defensive?” Dipper asks, while Mabel makes a noise of agreement.

There’s nothing wrong with him and Ford, it’s just not going right.

“You know, Grunkle Stan,” Dipper starts, “If there’s something I’ve learned over this summer it’s that talking things out can solve a lot of problems.”

“Yeah! And that you shouldn’t assume everything is okay,” Mabel adds.

“Oh, and you should definitely not keep secrets that could affect the fate of the world from your twin. That’s a big one,” Dipper says quite sagely.

“And if worse comes to worse, just hug it out!” Mabel finishes.

“Yeah, that couldn’t hurt to try,” Dipper agrees.

“We’ll see, kids,” Stan says, not agreeing or promising them anything.

Luckily, they do not call him out on his ambiguous statement. They let him change the subject to another adventure. Then they talk a bit more before hanging up.

The world is suddenly silent after the call ends. He doesn’t allow himself to wallow in the silence, instead he considers the twins’ advice. If there was anyone that knew how to work out twin problems, Mabel and Dipper would be the ones to ask. And their advice was sound: talking through things, don’t assume, don’t keep secrets, and hugging it out.

Stan has to blink a few times to stop himself from getting emotional. He’s proud of these kids. They’ve grown so much since they first came to Gravity Falls, they’ve become so brave and smart.

He just doesn’t know if he can do the same.

After all, the root of the issue is that everything is perfect. He’s living the dream. Going on adventures with Ford on the Stan o’ War was everything he ever wanted. Hell, he’s gotten more than what he ever dreamed of: a family and a great place he can call home.

So maybe the root of the problem is just Stan and the fact that he’s in love with his twin and wants more.

-000-

“I don’t know what it is, Fiddleford. There’s this tension between us that just doesn’t dissipate,” Ford explains.

Apparently, Ford and Stan had the same idea. While Stan was restocking and talking to the kids, Ford was restocking and calling Fiddleford. (Although he and Fiddleford were repairing their friendship, Ford found talking to a fellow colleague about his issues much less embarrassing than talking to his niblings. At least Fiddleford was a good sport about listening to his problems.)

“What kind of tension, Ford?” Fiddleford asked.

“I don’t know how to describe it. We work together perfectly, we have each other’s backs, we practically read each other’s minds! I’ve never had a better partner- oh, I mean-”

“It’s fine, Ford. I get that you and Stan are twins. You have a relationship that is unique. There’s not much that can match that, I understand,” Fiddleford says.

Ford lets out a sigh of relief. They haven't gotten around to talking about their past partnership. Fiddleford doesn’t remember all of it and Ford was possessed for more time than he would care to admit.

“How about we try something, Ford? Instead of thinking of the now, what about the future? What do you want to change about your guys’ relationship?”

Ford thinks of his journals and their adventures.

“I’ll go first,” Fiddleford starts.

Ford’s lucky that Fiddleford’s leading this conversation and that he knows what he’s talking about. The man has always been the people person out of the two of them.

“I’m glad to be living with my son, Tate again. We’re reconnecting. However, I’ve been away for so long, not myself for so long, that he hasn’t relied on me for anything for years…”

That sounded familiar.

And it sounded like a good idea…

“Now your turn, Ford. And you can’t use what I said.”

Damn.

“Well...” Ford didn’t know where he was going with this. He started with their most recent interactions. “It would be nice if Stan stopped draping his wet clothes everywhere.”

“Go on,” Fiddleford encourages. His voice is very non judgemental and Ford feels himself relaxing.

“He could take better care of himself.” Then Ford thinks back to Stan slamming his journals shut. “And if he has a issue with things he should be able to tell me.”

“What else?”

“I think that’s the biggest problem,” Ford thinks of all the time they spend in silence around each other. “We’re just not talking to each other. It’s not like how things used to be.”

“Stanford…” Fiddleford’s voice is gentle and Ford is almost afraid to hear what the man will say next. “From what you’ve told me, not talking was an issue you two had in the beginning.”

Ah yes, the science fair experiment. Maybe if they had just talked- no. They had started down different paths even before that tragedy.

“I think that you two should talk,” Fiddleford suggestions.

Ford made a pained noise into the phone.

Fiddleford chuckled.

“At the very least, how about trying to be friendly again?”

That was a little more doable. They were best friends before when they had lived together for years. Maybe living together again would rekindle things.

“Thanks, old friend. The advice is appreciated,” Ford says after a sigh.

“Why all you have to do is ask,” Fiddleford teases.

Ford snorts. “Are you sure you aren’t helping me because you love gossip? How’s the town, know everybody’s business now?”

Fiddleford mock gasps. “Why Stanford Pines, how could you accuse me of such a thing.”

“Quite easily, Fiddleford,” Ford says. “Thank you.”

“Well, you’ve learned how to say thank you, talking and getting along with your brother will be as easy as pie,” Fiddleford says.

Ford chuckles, “I suppose it could be.”

Unable to take anymore discussion about feelings, Ford segues into their most recent scientific discoveries. Fiddleford allows it and they chat about their recent projects. Ford focuses on the adventures instead of the creatures (Fiddleford was never interested in them and now had negative associations with them), and Fiddleford tells him about all the inventions that he’s made within the last week (over a dozen). Fiddleford also keeps him appraised about the town. Everybody seems to be doing well. Soon Ford and Stan will receive their own update from Soos and Wendy.

Finally, they end their call.

Ford is glad to have a friend like Fiddleford. That man was the most well-adjusted soul he ever met, and that including the Old Man McGucket personality.

Ford ponders Fiddleford’s advice, slowly reviewing their conversation. In conclusion, Ford decides that the only course of action is to try and get along with his brother.

Talking about their feelings, getting everything out in the open, admitting his feelings, well, that can wait.

-000-

In the end, neither of them get the chance to talk.

When they leave port it starts raining everyday. Each day is wet and gloomy and neither Ford nor Stan feel like doing anything but trying to stay dry and warm. They talk about going back to land, but decide to tough it out. A little rain never killed anyone.

Then the storm rolls in.

One moment they’re asleep in their beds, the next moment Ford finds himself falling out of bed while Stan finds himself pressed against the wall.

They scramble to get dressed and run outside. Bad idea. The door barely opens because they’re being battered in all directs by the wind. They force the door open and see their boat in the middle of a hurricane.

“HOW DID WE NOT NOTICE A HURRICANE!” Stan yells so he can be heard over the roar of water and wind.

“IT DOESN'T LOOK NATURAL!” Ford yells back.

“NO KIDDING!”

They both hustle to make sure their sail doesn’t get ripped off by the wind. After that’s done, they go and secure the rest of the deck.

Then things start to get weird.

“Is that a fucking face in the clouds?” Stan swears. They’re roped together for safety, now within hearing distance of each other. Unfortunately they need to stay outside to make sure the boat doesn’t capsize.

“It’s an illusion in the clouds- oh that is a face.”

Something inhuman peeks out from out of the clouds, lightning surrounding its features. The face is round and storm cloud grey with large round eyes and a large grin. It is gigantic and their small boat doesn’t even register to such a giant.

Lighting cracks down from the sky and rain continues to pelt them as the wind tosses them around.

Then the lightning arcs across the water.

“What the-“

Then droplets start to fly across their vision.

“Oh no,” Ford manages to say before he starts to cling to the ship.

The anomaly is starting to affect gravity.

Ford immediately reaches for Stan, who reaches back.

Ford tells himself that they’re tied together, that they’re holding each other, that it’s only a storm they have to weather through. This is nothing like the portal.

His body starts to lift of the ship.

He hates gravity anomalies.

Until this event is over, he won’t let go of Stan.

Their boat get pulls in every direction and the end up in the eye of the storm. Thunder continuously cracks and booms around them, while the lightning seems to be coming from all directions. It’s not just coming from the sky but from the air and the water.

They hold onto the boat for dear life and manage to wrap their arms around each other. Only the rope from the sail and their combined weight is holding them down.

The winds and rain are beating against their back, practically blinding them but out of the corner of Ford’s eyes he spies a bolt of lightning streak closer to them.

Ford pales. He thinks of the metal plate in his skull. It’s only a matter of time before he’s hit.

“We’re getting out of here!” Stan yells.

He starts to move and Ford clings to him.

“Hold onto the rope!” Stan yells and moves to let go.

Ford grabs onto the rope (which is attached to Stanley, he hasn’t let go of him yet), as Stan maneuvers to the cabin so they can get inside.

The boat jolts and Ford finds himself thrown upward. He’s still holding onto the rope as Stan yells his name.

The lightning is closer now and any moment he’ll be hit.

The rope becomes slack in his hands and he tries to twist towards Stan. He can see Stan, see that he’s approaching Ford now. He hopes Stan doesn’t slip off the boat, because he’s not in the position to save him.

Then he feels himself move in a different direction.

Another gravity change?

The rope is now tight in his hands and he’s moving. It’s Stan, reeling him in.

Wait, he’s not pulling him in, he’s actually using himself as a pivot to spin Ford towards the cabin.

Gravity changes again and instead of floating, Ford finds himself starting to move through the air. His body starts spinning and he can’t maneuver himself. He stops when his body hits something solid. He hisses at the pain, but doesn’t let go of the rope. Instead he curls in on himself, trying to protect himself as he slams into something else when the gravity changes again.

Eventually, the gravity shifts stop and Ford finds himself on solid ground. He takes a moment to catch his breath. Every part of him is cold and numb and everything that isn’t, hurts to hell. Ford forces himself to flex his fingers which makes him groan in pain when he realizes they’re smushed against the floor and his body.

Luckily, he is still holding onto the rope.

Ford manages to tug up on it and feels a weight at the end. There’s an answering tug back.

Ford wants to laugh in relief. He’s glad he didn’t let go.

The pain from his fingers makes him roll onto his back where he spasms and gasps in pain. His whole back is on fire, but he can’t move, can only let his body tremble to relieve the sensation.

After what feels like eons, Ford curls in on himself. It brings him some relief, brings back that numb sensation and Ford feels his mind slowly lower into itself and he drifts off...

-000-

Ford feels himself sit up and start hacking. He’s not getting enough oxygen, but his body doesn’t want to breath. Instead his body wants to spit out all the phlegm and god-awful water that’s blocking his throat. He takes a few shuddery gasps before he’s forced to start coughing again. His throat burns and his head hurts, but even more terrible is how sore he is. Every forceful movement is hell on his body and he clutches at himself trying to get a hold of himself.

After coughing up what feels like the whole damn ocean, Ford manages to breath normally.

He takes his time to simply breath.

He would collapse into himself except he knows that will only bring him more pain. He sways and he tries to steady himself.

Ford hisses when his hands hit the floor. His hands are on fire, but the ground is cool and brings him some relief. After cooling them, he manages to unglue his eyes open. Surprisingly his glasses are still on his face, but the lenses are terribly smudged. There’s no energy left in him to clean them so he sweeps them above his head. Then he squints at his hands.

They’re red and raw, with deep indents in them.

He hadn’t even noticed the pain when he was holding the rope-

Stan!

Ford scrambles up and attempts to tugs on the rope. Unfortunately he finds his balance has left him and he walks sideways until his side meets a wall.

He swallows a curse and uses the wall to keep himself upright.

Then he notices that he’s actually in the cabin. Stan’s maneuver worked. He ended up inside.

The rope trails outside onto the deck.

There hasn’t been an answering tug.

The thought of Stan lying unconscious while he’s safe inside-

Ford manages to gather his strength and slowly makes his way out. Despite the terrible rope burns, he grabs the rope again and starts following it to its end.

The sun is too bright when he leaves the safety of the cabin and he squints, willing his eyes to adjust faster.

There’s a low groan in front of him which spurs Ford forward.

There’s Stan, alive, sitting up, and groaning.

“Stan,” Ford rasps. The words sends him into another coughing frenzy. Not again, not when he’s so close.

“Ford,” Stan says.

Ford tries to answer, but he can’t stop coughing.

“Ford.”

Stan sounds closer now and more urgent. Ford manages to calm his coughs into gentle wheezing with gasping breaths when he feels a familiar hand grasp his arm.

“I’m fine,” Ford manages to say. Luckily his coughing seems to have abated.

Stan grasps at him desperately and maneuvers so his rubbing Ford’s back

Finally Ford gets a good look at Stan.

He looks terrible. His whole body is hunched and one of his arms is dangling next to his side. There are deep bags under his eyes and his nose is crooked, there’s even blood on his face. He must have broken his nose. His hair is messy, but luckily that’s it.

Burned hair would have been a clear indicator that Stan had taken a lightning strike meant for him. He’ll have to do a more in depth examination later, but at least his biggest worry had been abated.

“You look like shit. Good thing I’m the good looking twin,” Stan says, a quirk to his lips. Trust him to be able to find humor in such a situation.

Ford finds himself chuckling anyway. “Well, you were never the smart one,” he answers.

“Heh, that’s for sure,” Stan says. “Come on, let’s go back in.”

Stan uses his good arm to help support Ford. He doesn’t protest this time, he’ll probably return the favor all too soon.

They somehow make their way into the bedroom where they shed their clothes and collapse into bed. They fall asleep immediately.

-000-

Ford wakes up feeling like a giant bruise.

Unfortunately it’s a familiar feeling and Ford manages to get up slowly, but easily. He fumbles around for his glasses and his hands meet something warm.

Stan.

Ford freezes.

Stan doesn’t move and instead continues to doze unperturbed. Ford gingerly removes himself from the bed.

Ford comes to the conclusion that they must have collapsed in Stan’s bed together. No wonder he can’t find his glasses. He finds them, cleans them, and puts them on.

Now he can see Stanley more clearly. His brother is turned away from him and he’s greeted with the sight of Stan’s back. Ford winces, Stan’s back is mottled purple and red from bruises. They make Stan’s burn stand out even brighter; silvery burned skin against dark bruises.

The sight makes Ford want to reach out and trace the lines of the burn.

Just lifting his hand out of the covers makes him shiver. He’s still undressed. First he tucks the blankets around Stan’s shoulder, then he grabs some clean clothes. There’s salt crusting on his skin, but he can take a shower later. Food and drink first, hygiene second.

Ford starts the kettle and looks into the fridge for something to heat up. There’s chili and cornbread in the fridge, one of Stan’s favorites.

Ford’s stomach rumbles at the thought of hot chili and warm cornbread. He starts heating them up when he hears a soft beeping noise.

Oh, its the communication device that Fiddleford made so that they could communicate at sea. The kids must have tried to call them. He checks the calendar and spots that they must have missed a call with them. Ford feels and probably looks like a giant bruise, but the kids would worry. Ford and Stan almost never missed a call. He finishes setting up the food and calls them back.

“Grunkle Ford,” Mabel whispers.

“Hi, Grunkle Ford,” Dipper says, just as softly.

“Hello, Mabel. Hello, Dipper.” How odd that they would be so subdued. They were normally quite rowdy.

“Are you okay? You’re calling pretty late,” Dipper asks.

“Yeah, you also look terrible, although I guess that could be the lighting,” Mabel says squinting at the camera.

The lights are off. Ford didn’t realize because he’s gotten used to gritty darkness and they do their best to save on electricity on the boat. Then he realizes how dark it is on the kids’ side. Oh, he must have called the kids in the middle of the night, his early morning. Well, they’re awake so it would be a waste not to talk.

“I just woke up,” Ford says in way of explanation. “Stan and I had a rather invigorating adventure.

“But we called yesterday, were you sleeping for a whole day?” Mabel asks, worry in her voice. Dipper now takes a moment to try and stare at him through the screen.

“I suppose we did sleep the day away,” Ford answers. He’ll have to check the clock to see if that’s true, but he’ll try to act nonchalant about it. “Anyways, why don’t you two give me a quick update and then it’s off to bed.”

Thankfully, they give him the benefit of the doubt and drop the subject. They chatter on about school, giving him updates and telling him that he and Stan should call Soos and Wendy. Ford manages to keep the conversations short and promises to call them again soon with Stan. Soon they’re ending the call with ‘I miss you’s.’

When the call ends, Ford sits back in his chair. The kettle starts to whistle but he doesn’t get up just yet.

“What are you making?”

Ford jumps. It’s Stan, he’s finally awake. Other than the bruises and the sleepiness he looks to be in good shape.

“Let me get that,” Ford says and offers Stan his seat. Surprisingly, Stan goes along with it and sits.

Ford quickly dishes the chili and cornbread, as well as some hot cocoa (another present from Mabel). They have a quiet meal together. Afterwards they do the dishes and go back to sleep.

This is their pattern for a few days: eating, resting, and sleeping. Ford does his best to give Stan some space to recover and use the time alone to think about ways to recover their relationship. He’s comfortable like this, but not satisfied.

Stan uses his time to, well, Ford’s not exactly sure. Maybe he’s using the time to talk to the kids and their friends? Ford found him staring at the calendar one day. He must have hated missing the kids’ call. Stan loves talking to them with or without Ford.

They continue like that, resting, making sure to recover until it all comes to a head.

-000-

“Ford!”

Ford jumps up from his bed and immediately whips his gun towards the door. Stan miraculously disarms him easily and puts the gun elsewhere. Then he shoves Ford’s glasses on his face.

“Look!”

Ford blinks a few times and rubs his eyes.

In front of him are some pancakes.They’re an alarming shape of orange although the pumpkin drawn on them is adorable. It smiles at him and Ford feels himself smile back.

“Thanks, Stan. I’ll eat these in the kitchen?” Ford makes a move to get up, but Stan presses him back into bed with surprising strength. Huh.

Stan hands him a glass of milk before throwing himself into the bed so he’s pressed up against Ford. Ford makes room for him as Stan grabs a pancake and starts to eat messily. He lounges and looks so at home that Ford can’t bring himself to complain about the lack of room and inevitable crumbs on his bed.

“It’s fine, stay in bed and eat,” Stan says around a mouthful of pancake. He grins and his teeth are now orange.

Ford snorts and tries not to think about the fact that he’s eating pancakes with his hands. They’re delicious of course and it turns out the drawing was in chocolate. “These are great, but what’s the occasion?” Ford asks.

“Occasion! What’s the occasion!” Stan looks at him like he’s crazy. “It’s October, Sixer! Best time of the year!”

Ford blinks and then finally remembers. Halloween used to be their holiday. Their favorite holiday. The candy, the decorations, the costumes, but more importantly, it celebrated the things that Ford loved best. Back when they were kids, they could enjoy everything supernatural the whole month and no one cared.

Ford didn’t think that Stan still did their old traditions. He was flattered and was actually very happy that Halloween was still so beloved to Stan. It also explains the about-face that Stan was pulling. Not even the awkwardness from over thirty years of being apart can stop Stan from loving something.

“We don’t have to celebrate the whole month. I mean, we’re on a boat, Stan,” Ford says, trying to give him an out. Just one day of Halloween fun was good enough for Ford. Trying for the whole month without them fighting was pushing it.

“Come on, Sixer! We’re finally having adventures on the Stan o’ War and you don’t want to celebrate Halloween?” Stan nudges him with a mischievous grin on his face. “Come on, action and adventure is great and all, but you can’t forget about celebrating the holidays.”

Ford takes a bite of the pancake to give himself some time, although Stan isn’t waiting on his answer. Stan seems content in relaxing and bed with Ford and getting crumbs everywhere, just like old times. The return to their past selves is what convinces Ford. He missed this.

“Okay, I’m convinced.” Not that Ford needed much convincing. “Let the month of Halloween begin.”

“Yes! Ha! I’ll go plot a route back to land so we can pick up supplies.” Stan stuffs a final pancake in his mouth and dashes out the door.

Ford stares after him and hears an alarming amount of noise that shouldn't be associated with navigation. However, he stays put and finishes his pancakes and his milk (the milk was the perfect accompaniment to the pancakes). Stan knows his way around the boat, he could plot a course just fine.

In the meantime, Ford would get dressed and check his gun. Then he would fix the door. It looks like his brother kicked it down.

He grins. It would be like old times.

-000-

Overnight, Stan livened up their boat with Halloween decorations. There are paper bats and pumpkins on the walls. Anything of theirs that is black and orange is in the forefront. They’ve received some cat shaped nick knacks from Mabel, which have been set out. He’s taken some of their extra netting to make spider webs and Ford spots a jack o’ lantern face on their sail.

Ford makes sure to point out each Halloween item and praises Stan for his creativity. Stan waves him away but is grinning from ear to ear.

It’s beyond what Ford and he has to admit, it cheers him up more than he thought was possible.

They spend hours discussing potential Halloween activities that they can do on a boat. They can do movies, tell ghost stories, do a test of courage, and looks for classic Halloween creatures. But Stan doesn't stop there, he says that it wouldn’t be Halloween without some of the classics so they're off to land to grab some costumes, pumpkins, and candy.

The talk well into the night about how to fit every Halloween related activity possible.

Even when they get into bed, they continue to talk. However, it’s not long before Stan falls asleep. Ford lets him, he had obviously been awake for a long time to put up all the decorations. Ford isn’t even sure Stan can be woken up when he’s sleeping like this: sprawled with his limbs everywhere, snoring away. Stan hasn’t slept like this recently.

Ford quietly gets up from his bed to tuck the blankets under Stan’s chin. Then he heads back to his own bed to get some sleep. It’s difficult, he’s excited about their plans, but eventually he too falls asleep.

-000-

The bad weather seems to follow them and they won’t be able to get back to land for a few days at least.

That doesn’t dampen Stan’s spirits. Instead he scrounges up some fruits and sugar to make ‘candied apples.’

In reality he takes whatever fruit he can find, a rather beaten up apple, some plums, an orange, and dips them in some melted sugar. Then he draws on them with chocolate, cute cartoony black cats and bats and ghosts.

The fruit falls apart at the first bite, and it’s a delicious mess. Stan gets it all over his face, although Ford can’t eat them without getting messy either. He ends up licking his fingers in between bites.

At one point, Stan points at one of the fruit in particular. “Check this one out, Ford.”

Ford looks, but doesn’t see anything unusual about the picture.

Then he feels something warm and wet press against his face.

“Stan!” Ford yelps. Did Stan just lick his face?

Stan waggles his eyebrows and his tongue at Ford. “You’re getting it all over yourself, Sixer.” Then he licks his fingers and goes to wipe Ford’s face again.

Ford bats his hand away.

“Hygiene, Stanley,” he snaps, embarrassed. Luckily, Stan takes no offense and snickers at him while Ford wipes his face. Ford balls up the towel he was using and throws is at Stan, hitting him in the face. “You need this more than me,” he quips.

Stan wipes his face and then tries to whip him with the towel. Ford dodges and uses the table to separate them.

Stan considers the table and then jumps right over it.

They tussle, using all of their wits to make the other concede without messing with the ship. Stan manages to get Ford in a headlock and gives him a gentle noogie. Ford could easily break out of it, but he doesn’t want to hurt Stan. Instead, he lets Stan ruffle his hair.

“Okay, I give,” Ford says with a laugh.

Stan laughs with him and lets him go.

They continue to snicker and laugh as Stan continues to make sweets. He makes more candied fruit that are bite sized and spins the remaining sugar into candies.

Along with the candy, Stan has panned a scary story night. They bundle up and create a makeshift tent against the cabin to block out the worst of the cold. They bring in hot drinks and the leftover candy to munch on. Stan grabs some candles to create the proper ‘atmosphere.’

Amused, Ford goes along with it. Between the light from the stars and the soft light from the candles the atmosphere is anything but spooky. In fact, it’s very comfortable and inviting inside their tent. A great way to enjoy their boat.

“Okay, okay, so I’ll start,” Stan says as soon as they settle. He brings a candle underneath him, trying to be scary, but all it does is cast a glow across his face while the stars illuminate his back.

“It was a normal night, dark and cold and wet, but to the people of a town called Glass Shard Beach, this was nothing new. They slept peacefully not knowing that in the ocean next to them something spooky was brewing…”

Ford settles in for the night as Stan tells the tale. He takes a sip of his drink, letting himself enjoy the story. It’s one he’s heard before, a Glass Shard classic, but it’s the first time he’s ever heard it in Stan’s gravelly tones.

Stan is a great storyteller, building the suspense with every word. Ford oohs and gasps at the right moment even though he knows what’s coming.

When Stan ends the story, Ford claps for him.

“You’re supposed to be scared out of your wits after a scary story, not clapping. I guess the story wasn’t that scary,” Stan says with a shrug. “Why don’t you tell one next?”

Ford makes a ‘hm’ noise and considers his options, “Well, there’s the Jersey Devil, Bigfoot, Mothman-”

“No, no. The Sea Creature story was just a warm-up,” Stan interrupts. “Why don’t you tell a really scary story.”

Falling silent, Ford racks his brain for an appropriate tale. There are a couple that he’s heard in college that would be sufficiently scary and unlikely for Stan to have encountered. But Ford doesn’t want to recycle old material. Stan’s story was fine because it was nostalgic and started the night on a fun note. Now Ford needed a highly original, quality tale.

“Alright,” Ford says aloud, choice in mind. “This is a tale from one of the many alternate universes I visited.”

“You mean…”

“That’s right. This one’s true.

Stan falls silent and frowns. Then he scoots closer so that they’re sitting next to each other, instead of across. Ford moves so that they’re comfortably pressed up against each other. The contact makes it easier for Ford to speak.

“In a far away galaxy…” Ford starts.

Stan gently nudges Ford for that start. Ford grins and continues, the words coming out even easier.

“In a galaxy far far away, I found myself stranded on a terrible planet. Bill’s minions and bounty hunters had chased me through many galaxies and universes, but I managed to lose them. I soon found out why, the surface was uninhabitable to many creatures but below its surface were caverns stretching miles.

“Civilizations and cities all lived in these caves, but the systems stretched for miles further than the people could ever touch. They spanned an impossible distance and these labyrinths were too dangerous to explore.

“My hosts had…”

Ford falters for a moment. The leaders of the city he had been living with had threatened to turn in the bounty. He had felt like he had no choice but to go along with their request. It left a sour taste in his mouth at the thought. Maybe that was a detail he could forgo.

“...pleaded to me to become their champion. And from that day it was decided that I would be the one to conquer the labyrinths.

“The caves were enormous and each turn was deadlier than the next. I encountered every form of wildlife and plantlife that the planet had to offer. I solved puzzles and mazes, seeing places that have never been seen by civilized eyes. I encountered things that would be considered anomalies on that planet and with my wits managed to beat each one.”

Ford continues describing each encounter. In the beginning he had been optimistic, not realizing the scope of his task. Then when he had journeyed further than anyone had every went before did he realize the monumental task that had been in front of him.

He had almost lost hope and perhaps the desperation of his encounters had been made obvious, because Stan slings an arm over his shoulder. Stan stays silent, allowing Ford to continue without interruption.

The touch bolsters him and Ford is able to continue through his bleak experience. It’s almost easy talking about the planet. He’s not there anymore. He’s not in an underground cave, he’s clearly with Stan in the Stan o War, enjoying the stars, the furthest he could be from that experience.

Finally Ford manages to finish this story.

“After the explosion I had discovered a wonderful resource for the people of that city: a sustainable food source and water. They hailed me as a hero and I left that dimension afterwards,” Ford says.

It had been a lucky and favorable outcome for all. In reality he had tried creating a controlled explosion to facilitate his escape, but had discovered the resources instead. The city people had thanked him with supplies that he could fashion into a dimension travel device. He had left before the leaders could use him again.

It was in the past now.

He looks at Stan who’s looking at him sadly.

“I suppose that wasn’t a very scary story, was it,” Ford says. He mentally curses for ruining scary story night. He should have gone with a college horror story, not trauma from his days in the multiverse.

Stan shrugs and Ford can feel the movement because they’re so close to each other.

“Nah, you were fine,” Stan says. “Sounded lonely, though.”

Ford doesn’t reply.

“How about another story then?” Stan says before launching into another tale. He presses some candy into Ford’s hands and Ford munches on them as he listens to Stan tell the tale.

It’s another classic for them, one of Ford’s favorites. Ford lets himself enjoy the telling the human contact, and the sweets. When Stan reaches the end, Ford realizes it’s not the normal ending, but the alternate one they had written together as children to ensure the monster in the story had a happy ending.

They continue to trade stories and eat candy well into the night.

-000-

Eventually, they get to land. Thank goodness, between the long trip and the sweets they’ve been eating, Ford is surprised they hadn’t developed scurvy. Although he’s enjoying the October treats, he can’t wait to have some fresh fruit and vegetables on the ship.

They make a beeline to a local market and manage to purchase their supplies. In addition to their usual things, Stan picks out a selection of local candies and sugar. (Why were there so many types of sugar?) Ford almost groans, but doesn’t want to burst his brother’s bubble.

They’re doing one last trip when Stan stops at a local produce stand. He points at some gourds and attempts to talk to the shopkeeper about them. Ford rifles through his pockets, missing his trans-dimensional translator, but Stan manages to get through a conversation.

Surprisingly, he leaves empty handed.

“Do you need help translating?” Ford asks.

“Did you see how small those things were? Those aren’t proper jack o’ lantern sizes,” Stan says with a shake of his head. Then he starts heading deeper inland. Ford follows him, curious.

Ford looks back and guesses that they’re only about the size of a fist. “Maybe their harvest wasn’t very successful this year.”

“Nah, it turns out that the shopkeeper grew those themself. The ones in the town fields are bigger. Bigger than my head,” Stan gestures.

Ford raises an eyebrow. Gourds that grew larger than human heads? He supposes that if they were related to pumpkins, then they could grow that large.

“But, he said there’s some local superstition that no one can pick them until they receive some okay from their harvest bigwig,” Stan says.

“Interesting. Maybe they aren’t ripe yet,” Ford offers as way of explanation. The other gourds were awfully small.

“Maybe,” Stan says.

They walk out of the populated areas of the market and into the more rural areas of the town.

“We’re going to steal some gourds, aren’t we.”

“Yup. It’s not Halloween without pumpkins and jack o’ lanterns.”

-000-

Hours later they find themselves hiding face down in the mud. A chill sweeps the air making all the hairs stand up on their bodies, but soon the sensation passes. When the coast is clear they peek out from their hiding place.

Ford smacks Stan and hisses, “Stan, when you said that we needed permission from a bigwig, I thought you meant a human! Not- not a blessing from a harvest deity!”

“Shh, not so loud,” Stan says, pulling him down.

Ford shivers as another chill permeates the air.

It leaves again, but it’ll be back.

“We have to run for the ship,” Stan says. “Here take this.”

Out of the mud, Stan pulls out two gourds as big as his head.

“Where were you hiding those?” Ford says, incredulous.

“Doesn’t matter, let’s go,” Stan says ushering them to their feet.

Ford follows Stan’s lead as the man sneaks through the farm and back towards the boat. At one point he starts to sprint and all Ford can do is follow after him.

When there a ways away Stan starts to cackle madly, raising his prize above his head. He looks like a loon and Ford can’t help but chuckle.

“I am the pumpKING!” He yells.

“They’re gourds, Stan,” Ford says, laughing.

“Ha! Then you can be Ford Gourd,” his brother quips back.

Ford groans. “That's terrible.”

A gust of wind presses against their back, followed by a low hiss.

“Shall we..?”

“Yeah, lets book it.”

They save their teasing. Only after they’ve gotten to the boat, taken off, and are unable to see the shore do they laugh. Stan makes sure to scrub them clean before they go to sleep.

-000-

The next day they carve the pumpkins (gourds).

Ford carves out his symbol in his gourd. No need to do anything unnecessary. Stan carves a surprisingly accurate rendition of the Harvest Bigwig (Stan’s name, not his).

It’s a little too realistic. Once they put a light in its the center they back away from it.

“I’m getting pulled into the gravity of its stare,” Ford says. He is unable to look away.

“Yeesh,” Stan quickly takes the light out.

“Maybe we should just eat that one,” Ford suggests, covering it with a towel.

Stan taps at his chin. Then he takes the towel off. “Let me make some changes.”

He grabs the carving knife and gives the ghost some large eyebrows and a wig. Then he draws a gourd into it’s hand. It’s eyes are still soulless abominations, but now they can laugh it off. Stan looks so proud that Ford doesn’t dare suggest they trash it. They set their pumpkins outside. Hopefully Stan’s will get picked off by a bird.

The seeds they toast and the rest of the gourd Stan makes into pancakes and stew.

They spend the rest of their October days fitting in as many Halloween activities as possible in between adventures. There’s food, a lot of their staples made Halloween themed (Ford’s never smiled at oatmeal before, but somehow Stan made it monster themed). There’s games, most of them low tech, food scraps made into fake people parts, a rather destructive game of pin the tail on the lizardman, and a few short games of D, D, and more D.

And they tell each other more stories.

There are scary stories they’ve heard when they’ve been away from each other, some classics, and ones that they made up themselves.

But sometimes they break out the tent just to talk.

They find themselves talking more often. They talk over meals, when they’re manning the boat, and when they’re in bed trying to sleep. Somehow Stan manages to put their beds together (Ford thought they were mounted to the floor) and they continue to talk until they fall asleep.

He’s always had trouble sleeping (something that’s only gotten worse as the years have gone by), from nightmares disturbing his dreams, to an aching paranoia that keeps him awake at night, but lately it’s gotten better. They talk until they tire and even if Ford wakes up from troubled dreams, watching Stan sleep typically pulls him to sleep.

Finally they decide for Halloween they should find land and maybe join in the festivities. Ford has his reservations, he doesn’t know if they’ll get to land, and he doesn’t think they’re near anyplace that celebrates Halloween like they want to, but Stan says it’s an opportunity to share the holiday. If nothing else, they can dress up, project a movie on the sail, and eat more candy.

Over dinner they’re still talking about their plans, when Ford notices that they’re receiving a call from Dipper and Mabel. He glances at their calendar and notes that this is a scheduled call. Time flew by fast. Normally Stan would be raring to talk to them, but they had been rather busy with Halloween plans.

Ford flips open their communication device and connects with them.

“Grunkle Ford! Grunkle Ford!”

His niblings clamor for his attention and it makes him smile.

“Kids!” He exclaims, returning the favor.

“It’s been way too long!” Mabel yells. “ Ooo, are those Halloween decorations?”

“Anomalies and anatomically correct bats, nice Grunkle Ford,” Dipper says.

Ford chuckles, pleased that the kids noticed. It’s nice that their effort get to be seen by others. He should call Fiddleford and the Mystery Shack as well.

“There are more decorations around the boat,” Ford says.

“Oh! Show us!” Mabel says, Dipper nodding along with her.

Ford carries the device, showing them around the boat. He points out the various decorations while the kids ‘ooo’ and ‘ahh.’ He shows them their tent set-up and promises to send them a picture when the stars are out. He points out their gourds and they immediately ask how they got them.

“Let me get, Stan. He started to the whole thing, he should help tell the story,” Ford says and goes back inside.

“Stan, the kids want to hear about how we got the gourds,” Ford says.

“Sure, you know I’m the better storyteller,” Stan says, putting down what he was working on. “Now who’s my audience for today?”

Stan gives Dipper and Mabel a grin.

Ford frowns.

Dipper and Mabel look nervously at each other.

Eventually, Mabel awkwardly laughs and says, “It’s us, Grunkle Stan. Your favorite niece and nephew.”

Stan looks at them confused. “Niece? Nephew?”

Ford almost drops the device.

Mabel is starting to look upset, when Dipper grabs her hand. “Oh Grunkle Stan, I guess you tell every kid that they’re your favorite, huh?” Dipper says, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. He’s doing well, except for the fact that he’s sweating profusely. “We stayed in Gravity Falls last summer, don’t you remember?”

“Oh! The place where Ford and I lived for awhile. I met you kids there?” Stan asks, brightening at the explanation.

Mabel squeezes her brother’s hand. Dipper laughs, clearly pained. “Yeah, we met at the Mystery Shack.”

“Well, sorry I don’t remember kids, but maybe the story of the PumpKing and Ford Gourd will make up for it,” Stan says. He settles in to tell the story. The kids do their part as the audience and listen intently to him. Luckily Mabel and more importantly Dipper are good enough to keep Stan’s attention, because Ford is speechless.

How does Stan not remember the kids!

Ford has no answers or theories even when Stan is finished with the story. The kids clap for him and thank him. Dipper and Mabel tell them to have a good Halloween and to take care of themselves. Dipper says that they shouldn’t be strangers and call more often. They pointedly look at Ford, as Stan amicably agrees.

When they disconnect, Stan turns to him. “Nice kids. We built a pretty good life in Gravity Falls, didn’t we?”

He isn’t prepared to lie, isn’t prepared to deal with this situation. The kids helped him last time in Gravity Falls, how is he supposed to do this again by himself?

“Yes, you built a great life there, Stan. You don’t remember Dipper and Mabel?” Ford asks.

Stan’s brows furrow. “No, they seem familiar. I feel terrible for not remembering them. They looked really happy see us.”

“Well, I’m sure they enjoyed the story,” Ford says. “Speaking of stories, how about we forgo tonight’s, I could use the extra rest.”

Stan doesn’t even question the change in topic. “Sure, Ford. Maybe we have been staying up too late lately. We gotta be fresh for Halloween.”

They do their nightly routine and get in bed. Luckily, Stan quickly drifts off to sleep. When Ford is sure that he won’t wake him, he sneaks out of bed and back to the communicator. He sends a call out to the kids. They immediately pick up.

“Grunkle Ford, is everything okay?” Dipper asks.

“What’s wrong with Grunkle Stan?” Mabel asks.

“I don’t know,” Ford admits.

“This calls for an emergency all-call,” Mabel says and slams her hand on the device. The communication device unfolds to reveal two additional screens.

One screen blinks on to reveal a sleepy Fiddleford and worried looking Tate. “This is the first time anyone’s used the emergency function, what’s wrong?”

The other screen turns off to reveal Soos in his pajamas with Melody just waking up in bed next to him. “Dudes! The communicator started freaking out, what happened?”

“Guys, this is an emergency,” Dipper says. The others listen intently to him. “Stan has amnesia again.”

They gasp.

“I’ll call Wendy,” Melody says, disappearing off the screen.

“Stanford, I thought Stan regained all his memories back in Gravity Falls,” Fiddleford says.

“He did,” Ford answers. “I’m sure he did.”

“You guys didn’t accidentally get hit by another memory gun, did you?” Soos asks.

“No, and I don’t understand how this could have happened. He’s been perfectly coherent this whole time. This is the first incident that’s even suggested that he’s had memory issues,” Ford says desperately.

“What about any injuries?” Tate asks.

“Injuries?” Ford echoes.

“Head trauma, full body blows, anything like that,” he elaborates.

Ford stands up, “I’ll be right back.”

He hurries back to the bedroom and quietly sneaks over to Stan. Luckily, Stan is sleeping on his back. Ford grabs a maglite and shines it against his back.

Stan’s back is still covered in healing bruises from the incident in the storm. They’re no longer as young as they used to be, healing takes longer for them now. Ford starts to examine Stan’s cranium. Almost immediately he sees a bruise.

Ford jerks back. Then he forces himself to take a closer look. The bruise looks to be healing at the same rate as the ones on his back. He must have received it the same night and didn’t tell him.

Ford’s hand is shaking when he turns his light off and goes back to the communicator.

He takes a seat, the others awaiting his answer. Wendy seems to have joined them and is sitting with Soos and Melody in front of the communicator.

“I’ve just confirmed that Stan did receive a head injury recently,” Ford says.

The others start to murmur amongst themselves.

“Think back, Stanford. Has this been the first sign that Stanley has been having memory problems? What about after the injury?” Fiddleford asks.

“Did he have any changes in his behavior?” Tate offers.

Ford shakes his head at the questions, really nothing had felt different. In fact after the accident Stan had become more like his old self-

Oh.

“Actually, yes. Yes he has,” Ford agrees. “He’s changed back to how he used to be when we were children.”

“You mean he’s a kid again?” Soos asks.

“No, no, he hasn’t lost any knowledge, but he certainly has changed,” Ford says.

“How long has he been like this, Stanford?” Tate asks.

“..Weeks,” Ford admits.

The others gasp.

“How long did it take for him to remember last time?” Melody asks.

“Only a few hours!” Mabel exclaims. “He remembered us in no time!”

“But wait, he remembers you Mister Pines?” Soos brings up.

“I- yes, he does,” Ford says. It’s true. Unlike the last time, Stan remembers him.

“Maybe,” Dipper starts, a serious look of contemplation on his face, “-maybe, Stan just needs exposure to all of us to start remembering?”

It’s not a terrible idea. After all, Ford was with Stan the whole time. Maybe he does need time and exposure to remember everything.

“We can show him around the Mystery Shack,” Soos says.

“Yeah! I can show my scrapbooks, that did the trick last time,” Mabel says, finally smiling for the first time for this whole conversation.

“I could probably find the doodad’s that Stan’s seen last summer,” Fiddleford offers.

“Sounds like a plan, people. Give me a heads up when I should be there,” Wendy says.

The others agree and start to leave when Dipper stops them.

“Wait. Just to make sure we don’t confuse Stan, let’s say we’re all friends with Mr.McGucket. That way it isn’t too weird that Grunkle Ford knows all of us, but Grunkle Stan doesn’t,” Dipper says.

“But,” Mabel isn’t smiling anymore, “Isn’t that kind of, you know…”

“I know, Mabel,” Dipper says with a sigh. “I just think it’s easier if Grunkle Stan doesn’t know that anything’s wrong. It’ll be easier.”

Mabel sighs too. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Okay. Grunkle Ford, let us know when we should all talk again,” Dipper says.

“I will, Dipper,” Ford answers.

Then, one by one, the screens go blank. The communicator folds in on itself and Ford is left alone in the dark.

He sits back in his chair.

He puts his hands over his face and slowly bends over himself. His head gently hits the table in front of him. He takes a shuddery breath and holds it in. He can’t wake up Stan, not now. He curls in and stays absolutely still and silent.

Ford hopes this will work. He doesn't know how he’ll face Dipper and Mabel otherwise. The look on their faces when Stan didn’t realize who they were, it was terrible.

Stan has to remember them.

Ford just hopes that he doesn’t have to give up what they have now after Stan remembers.

-000-

Stan and Ford go on an adventure.

They discover an island that shouldn’t exist in the middle of the ocean. And of course Ford gets swept up in the adventure. There are no anomalies like the ones in Gravity Falls, but the island itself is quite interesting-

And Ford gets swept up in the excitement with Stan right there by his side.

Ford forgets about the phone call. It was really a suggested time, he hadn’t finalized it with Dipper. The date of the call gets pushed back further and they get closer and closer to Halloween. They’re unable to go back to land, the last adventure threw them off their schedule, so they’ll just have a nice Halloween together.

-000-

“Happy Halloween, Sixer!”

Ford jumps and goes to grab his gun, but Stan stops him in time.

“Come on, Ford, it’s just me,” Stan says.

Recognizing Stan’s voice, Ford relaxes. He cracks open his eyes, but somehow it’s too bright. Strange, there shouldn’t be any light. He tries to open his eyes again and is greeted with Stan wearing the most obnoxious orange pumpkin sweaters he’s ever seen.

“I know we said we were going to wear costumes, or something ‘culturally relevant to the area,’ but since we didn’t make it to land, I thought we could at least be in the Halloween spirit,” Stan says. “I noticed you had one too. Come on, we can wear them together.”

Ford looks down at the sweater Stan picked out. It’s a perfectly serviceable orange, an earth tone, not the close to neon monstrosity that Stan is wearing.

“Breakfast is waiting, come on,” Stan says before heading out of the room.

When he turns around, there’s a jack o’ lantern on the back with familiar stitching.

Ford blinks and slowly rubs his face. He remembers now, the sweater had been a gift from Mabel. Ford doesn't know what to do with the information that Stan will still wear a handknit sweater from his grand niece despite it’s questionable color. Instead of continuing that thought, he gets dressed and ready for breakfast.

It’s chili for breakfast. Not bad for the supplies they have in the boat.

“I made your favorite,” Stan says in way of greeting.

Ford blinks and wonders if he heard Stan wrong. Chili is supposed to be Stan’s favorite.

“I figured since we have so many ingredients for it, chili must be your favorite. You can just tell me, you know,” Stan says before starting to eat.

Ford eats at a slower pace.

Their Halloween is rather relaxed, a good ending to the month. They end up watching movies on the sail and eating tons of candy. At the end of the night they clean up and fall asleep next to each other.

Ford’s last thought is to wonder if Stan will start remembering everything after Halloween.

-000-

Ford is the first to wake up in the morning.

He immediately tucks Stan in. Ford sighs. Now that he knows what he’s looking for he can see why this version of Stan sleeps so haphazardly. The man doesn’t remember his hardships or the terrible things he’s done to survive. He’s not childish, but he knows the world like he did as a child, filled with opportunity and adventure.

Is it so terrible for Ford to want Stan to stay like this, unburdened by their past?

However it’s after Halloween now. They’re in November, maybe when Stan wakes up he’ll remember.

Ford gets up and starts some hot water. Then he carefully pulls down their decorations, putting things back in their place, and carefully setting aside the home-made ones. They can save them for next year or maybe for Summerween.

He’s almost done taking everything down when Stan walks into the kitchen.

“Oh, let me grab some of those,” he says with a smile on his face.

Ford can immediately tell that Stan doesn’t remember. His smile was too carefree and not grumpy enough.

Although it is surprising how Stan doesn’t look up that they’re taking down the decorations.

“Too bad, October is over,” Ford says, feeling him out.

Stan chuckles. “It was fun while it lasted. But come on Ford, we’re living the dream: having adventures together on the Stan o’ War. Sure Halloween is great, but we’re having fun everyday. We don’t have to wait a whole year for Halloween to come around, we can look forward to the next adventure.”

Ford stares. Stan may never remember the kids if he never leaves this boat.

Stan notices the staring, “Oh yeah, this sweater?”

Ford looks down and sees another sweater that Mabel had knitted for Stan.

“I found it with the Halloween one. Stitchings a little messy, but it’s pretty comfy. I don’t know why I don’t wear clothes from that drawer more often,” Stan says as a he takes a mug out of the cabinet. It says ‘Grumpy Old Man’ on it. It had been a gag gift from Dipper, but it was Stan’s favorite mug. Or at least it used to be.

They continue with their day like this; Ford realizing how many items they have from their family. There’s a device from Fiddleford. Some fishing gear from Tate. Some furniture and nick knacks from Soos and Melody. A hat from Wendy.

And Stan doesn’t recognize who they’re from. He just instinctively knows that they’re his favorite, the best to use, but doesn’t remember where they came from.

For lunch, Stan serves him a pumpkin and vegetable soup made from the Halloween gourds. The soup is a recipe from the twins and the plates are stolen from the Mystery Shack.

Finally Ford decides that he can’t live like this, tip-toeing around Stan, wondering what he can bring up and what he can’t bring up. Ford can’t live with a Stan that’s forgotten the people he loves and made a family with.

“Hey, Stan? You know those kids we talked to a week back?” Ford asks.

“Yeah?”

“They were wondering if you had any more stories for them.”

-000-

The first call they arrange with the kids turns into a series of ‘coincidences’ that allow for everybody from their emergency call to be on the communicator. They go along with their storyline, saying that they’re friends of Fiddleford’s.

Stan is absolutely charming and sweet. He grins and laughs easily and does his best to entertain the callers.

They arrange call after call, even with some impromptu members from Gravity Falls pitching in to say hello.

Stan doesn’t remember any of them.

Ford sneaks away at night to have an emergency all-call with the group again.

“So that didn’t work,” Dipper says, scratching his head.

“I don’t understand! We did the scrapbooks, the Mystery Shack, Waddles, almost everything! He didn’t remember. You could even tell Stan was being polite when we expected him to know things, that’s not Grunkle Stan!” Mabel exclaims.

The others look worried.

“Isn’t this how Mr.Pines normally acts?” Melody asks. They all look at her. “I mean, I only met the man once, but from your stories this seems like him. A little inappropriate, but a pretty fun Grunkle.”

“Psh, the real Stan would never make a good first impression,” Wendy says.

The others murmur their agreement.

“But maybe it’s okay that Stan doesn’t get his memories back,” Wendy continues.

“What!” The twins say.

“Maybe that would be for the best,” Tate adds in. Fiddleford looks at his son bewildered.

“Now I’m not saying that Stan shouldn’t remember, or that we won’t try to help him remember, but this isn’t like with Dad,” Tate says, squeezing Fiddleford’s shoulder. “Or maybe it’s exactly like with Dad. Stan forgot everything about his past, especially what hurt him. But he might eventually remember the good parts.”

“Like I did,” Fiddleford ends.

Tate nods.

“There was a point where I forgot Tate,” Fiddleford elaborates, looking guilty.

“You remembered eventually, Dad.” Tate says.

“But, but, Stans not even with us. Dipper and I are in California, the rest of us are in Gravity Falls, and Grunkle Ford and Grunkle Stan are all the way across the world! Are we supposed to wait til next summer for him to remember?” Mabel asks.

No one answers.

Ford should be reassuring her. Saying that even if Stan doesn’t remember, that he still loves them all. It’s easy to see; from the way he loves all of their gifts, to the fact that he always smiles when they call.

At the same time, he thinks: what if Stan doesn’t want to go back to Gravity Falls?

“He’ll remember eventually, Mabel,” Dipper reassures.

“That’s right, Mabel. One lousy injury isn’t going to stop Stan,” Soos reassures. “This is the man that punched a pterodactyl!”

Waddles oinks next to her adding in his two cents.

Mabel pets him. “Yeah, Grunkle Stan won’t forget about us.”

“So you have to keep on calling him, Mabel,” Wendy says. “Stan would never want to miss your middle school adventures.”

“We’ll keep calling,” Dipper says and Mabel nods.

“So will we,” Fiddleford adds. “It’s late, you kids should get to bed.”

The ‘kids’ groan, but say their goodbyes. The screen from the Mystery Shack and the twins blink off. The one from the mansion stays on. Tate walks away, leaving the screen.

“Hey, Stanford, how are you holding up?” Fiddleford asks.

Ford shakes his head.

“What’s wrong, Ford?”

“That’s the conundrum, Fiddleford. Nothing's wrong for me,” Ford admits.

“How so?”

“Well- life’s great! I mean, you know the last time we conversed? You had asked me what I wanted to change? I got everything I wanted: Stan relies on me, he takes better care of himself and me, we talk about everything!”

“Even the portal?” Fiddleford asks.

It’s a sore spot between them. While Ford feels like he could talk to Fiddleford about everything, he knows they can’t talk about certain subjects.

“Even the portal,” Ford says.

Fiddleford stays silent and Ford waits for him to give him an answer to his problems. Their last conversation was eye opening. And Ford is hoping that Fiddleford can lay some of his guilt to rest.

“That’s great, Ford. I’m glad you found someone to talk to,” Fiddleford says. He sounds and look sincere.

“And?”

“And what, Stanford?”

“What about this situation?”

Fiddleford pauses, he looks to be in deep thought.

“Listen,” Fiddleford start with, “I think you may have to consider the possibility that Stan might not regain his memories.”

“What-“

“I know that I regained them and that Stan regained them, but you have to remember we’re outliers. I had a video of myself to confront my missing memories. But no one else remembers what they’ve lost,” Fiddleford explains.

It was true.

There had been some experiments, but to their knowledge no one could regain their memories after the memory gun had taken them away. On occasion, bringing up the old memories would bring- distress to the person.

“However, that doesn’t mean that Stan won’t regain them after time,” Fiddleford adds.

That was true as well. Stan was such an outlier in regards to what was normal. The first time around, Stan had been so patient and understanding despite being bombarded with information about from his old life. Then he had actually regained them all with no issues, until now.

“So keep that in mind when dealing with him,” Fiddleford says with an air of finality.

“You’re speaking in circles, Fiddleford. I have to treat Stan like he won’t regain his memories, but he might regain them anyway,” Ford says, parsing out the words.

“That’s right,” Fiddleford agrees.

Ford taps his chin.

“That’s a paradox,” Ford says.

“Sure sounds like one,” Fiddleford says.

“Fiddleford, you were the one to present me this paradox.”

“I suppose I put the paradox into words, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t exist beforehand.”

“Right,” Ford grumbles. Another eye-opener.

Fiddleford sighs. “Look Ford, just use that big brain of yours. This situation is bad and you have to be careful. Why, you don’t even know if another injury may cause more memory issues!”

“I- I hadn’t yet considered that possibility.”

What would happen if Stan regressed completely?

What would happen if he regressed when they were at sea? Or on an uninhabited island? What if Stan were alone?

“I’ll talk to you later, Stanford,” Fiddleford says.

Ford waves him off and the screen goes blank. The man had probably seen this coming. Ford had been so happy with his situation that he hadn’t even thought of the consequences.

He considers his options.

Stan would have to remember. Even if it meant giving this up, Ford couldn’t risk Stan getting worse. And he couldn’t bear seeing the kids’ face look so disappointed every single call.

But how could Ford make Stan remember?

He could always go into the Mindscape. That might be the best way to diagnose the problem and see what other issues may crop up.

But it was also exceptionally dangerous if the Mindscape was deteriorating. It was also a procedure that he wouldn’t want to attempt alone. Perhaps he would save that for last or whenever they would go back to Gravity Falls.

Ford considers other options both supernatural and not. In the end he would go with the tried and true method, talking things out.

While the others had shown off every memory inducing item they had, Ford had not. He had held back in the hopes that the others would be the ones to induce the memories. After all, the memories that Stan didn’t remember that they shared were-

They were memories that Ford didn’t want Stan to remember.

-000-

Ford doesn’t go to sleep that night and ends up sleeping through the day. When he wakes up, it’s completely dark out. However the room is warm and Ford has been undressed. He doesn’t remember falling asleep.

He gets dressed and goes out to the kitchen where Stan is reading.

A werewolf looks out of the cover, distinctly lacking a shirt and his gaze smoldering.

Ah. This must have been a gift from Grenda and Candy. He had been told that everybody had sent a care package to them, but hadn’t realized that everybody had sent them something.

Stan looks up from his book when he realizes Ford is in the room. He closes the book, but doesn’t look ashamed. In fact, he looks a little tired. Had Stan been waiting for him?

“There’s more gourd stew, if you want some,” Stan says.

There’s just enough stew for one, with steam coming from the top.

“Thank you,” Ford says.

He dishes it up and sits across from Stan to eat it.

Stan picks up his book and continues to read. Ford watches him out of the corner of his eyes, but Stan looks rather engrossed.

When he finishes, he puts the dishes away.

He’s ready to tell Stan to go to sleep when Stan places a hand on his shoulder.

“Can you sit, Ford?”

Ford freezes and nods. He doesn’t think he can speak. He can’t lead this conversation, but he can answer any questions that Stan has.

They sit next to each other this time. Stan’s knee gently presses against his. It’s not reassuring, he can it trapping him there and the expectations welling up. Stan looks down at the table with a frown and Ford wonders what he knows.

Maybe he found the journals? They were right there on the shelf for anyone to read. The earlier journals weren’t very flattering, nor did they paint a very happy life with his twin. Hell, they were next to the romance novels.

“I know why you didn’t bring it up,” Stan says.

Ford tenses.

“I mean with me having amnesia-“

“You remember?” Ford blurts out. Since when?

“Well, no.”

Ford deflates.

“I- the me that remembers everything left me a note in case this happened,” Stan explains flippantly. Ford perks up and wonders what Stan wrote. “I only found it recently, and he didn’t leave me much. Just said that I should trust my family,” Stan says with a shrug.

Ford sits back. He had never considered that Stan would leave himself a failsafe in case of amnesia.

“You have questions for me then,” Ford says. The man must have questions. Stan finally knows that he’s missing information.

Stan starts with: “I know that I don’t remember all those people I’ve been telling stories too.”

Ford nods and lets out a mental sigh. At least he didn’t have to explain that point.

“I know that I’ve forgotten about this Gravity Falls place.”

Ford nods again. Stan had forgotten a huge swath about his past.

“And I know that I’ve forgotten somethings about us,” Stan concludes. He scratches his head.

“That’s right,” Ford confirms.

Stan takes a deep breath and lets out a cough.

“Tell me if I’ve gotten this part wrong.”

Ford waits for the accusations and the questions.

Instead, he feels Stan gently grab a hold of his hand. He stares at the hand, puzzled and looks back up at Stan who isn’t looking at him. He looks like he’s desperately trying to be casual. The knee that was pressed against him nudges him gently, but Ford doesn’t pull away.

Stan finally looks at Ford. His face for once is serious and without his usual grin. The intensity of his gaze is almost overwhelming, but Ford can’t look away.

Without breaking eye contact, Stan brings Ford hand up and brushes a kiss against his knuckles.

Ford’s mouth falls open.

“Did I get this wrong, Sixer?” Stan murmurs against his skin.

Ford licks his lips, but can’t speak.

Ford shakes his head, then stops, realizing the message that he’s sending.

Stan’s eyes light up.

Then he realizes exactly what answer he wants to be right.

“You’re not wrong,” Ford chokes out.

Stan grins at him and squeezes his hand. He chuckles, looking away.

“We’re okay?” Stan asks.

“Yes, Stan.” The lies fall easily from Ford’s lips. “Everything’s okay now.”

-000-

Nothing changes, at least, not in the way that Ford expected things to change.

They have the same routine do the same things, but every gesture has meaning now. Every look is charged. And there’s a tension- no, tension isn’t the right word, there’s frisson between them. It makes Ford’s heart pound and his hands a little sweaty to be honest.

They have a few more adventures together and those are exciting.

But now Ford is aware of everytime they hold hands or touch, even if they’re in life or death situations.

And now he can see the ways that Stan is taking care of him after their adventures are over.

There are these tiny little things he catches now. He thinks about them, mulls over them, replays them in his mind, and turns them over and over in his mind. His thoughts are filled with these nuances that he’s never caught before.

Ford would keep muddling through life like this if it wasn’t for a call from the others.

“Hey everybody!”

“Grunkle Stan!”

“Mr.Pines!”

“Stanley?”

“I’m sorry,” Stan says and all their faces fall. “I don’t remember, but I figured out I have amnesia.”

“Well, at least you know now,” Dipper says.

And the others mumbled their agreement.

“Thanks, everyone. Now do you guys want to hear about our latest adventure?”

“That sounds delightful, Stan” Fiddleford says while fixing a look at Ford.

Well, perhaps Ford would have continued to muddle his way through this situation, not changing a thing, but Fiddleford was giving him a look. It promised disappointment from Fiddleford and a thorough talk that would break down any of Ford’s logical arguments.

He would have to try talking to Stan again.

-000-

After a few more adventures, Ford finally puts everything in motion. Stan is taking a shower and will be occupied long enough for Ford to set up everything. He gets his journals and some props and waits for Stan to finish.

Stan comes out, still drying his hair. Ford is just about to help him, most heat escapes from the head after all- but he manages to hold himself back in time.

“What’s all this?” Stan asks, rummaging around the fridge.

“Stan, we need to talk,” Ford says.

He immediately winces after he says this.

“Sure, what’s up?” Stan makes some coffee for himself, while humming, then comes over to the table.

“I need to tell you something, Stan, something you’ve forgotten,” Ford starts, but is interrupted by some cookies shoved under his nose.

“Your favorite,” Stan offers.

They are his favorite, so Ford instinctively takes one, “Thank you, now as I was saying, there are some things I feel that I should tell you.”

“Sure, just let me fix up some coffee for you,” and Stan goes to freshen up his coffee, just the way Ford likes it.

Stan knows him so well- Ford shook his head. He needed to talk to Stan.

He takes a sip of his coffee, which is perfect, so Ford drains half the mug in one go. The gesture seems to reassure Stan, who finally takes a seat. The man looks at him, a bit disinterested, probably expecting a nerd rant, but totally trusting him.

Holding a journal up, Ford asked: “Do you remember these, Stan?”

Stan looks at it curious and Ford offers him the book. Stan flips through the pages, but shakes his head.

“Not really. I mean it’s one of your diaries-“

“Journals.”

“-One of your journals. You write about our adventures in them,” Stan says without guile.

“Then what about this?” Ford held up a picture of the perpetual motion machine. It’s a perfect rendition. Even now he could remember every single screw and plate.

Stan shrugged. “Am I supposed to?”

“How about these?” Ford gives him a bag of toffee peanuts.

Stan’s face lights up. “Oh hey! You were holding out on me, Ford. I didn’t think we had any more candy left from Halloween.”

“No, that’s not- here,” Ford hands him the bag and Stan digs in. Ford looks over at the rest of his things and Stan lets him, electing to pay attention to his snack instead. He was hoping that Stan would just remember, that he wouldn’t have to say anything specific.

But here Stan was, gobbling toffee peanuts and flipping through Journal 1 like it was nothing. His brother chuckles at one of the entries.

Ford drinks his coffee trying to regroup his thoughts.

Stan flips to the diagram of the portal.

He frowns at the picture and stares.

Ford swallows. It wasn’t the first thing he would’ve liked to discuss with Stan, but if it was the first thing that he remembered then…

Ford flipped Journals 2 and 3 to the portal diagram. He gently grabs the first journal and sets them up.

Stan snaps his fingers and points at the diagram. “Hey…”

The bag of toffee peanuts, now empty, slips out of his hand to rest next to the diagram of Ford’s former science project.

Stan’s wide eyed, looking between the picture of the portal and the science project.

While Stan is staring, Ford finishes a sketch. “What about this?” Ford softly asks.

It’s a picture of Bill Cipher.

Stan sits back in his seat. Then his head lolls back and his eyes close, while his mouth falls open. Ford manages to catch him before he falls out of his seat.

“Stan!”

Stan does not answer. Ford shakes him gently, which does nothing. Carefully, Ford slings him over a shoulder and brings him to bed. Once he’s laid out, Ford checks his eyes and his pulse. His hands are shaking so badly, he doesn’t succeed the first few times.

Ford sits next to Stan’s head which tilts towards him. He runs a hand through his hair which is still a little damp. Ford grabs the sheet to dry Stan’s hair.

It’s the least he can do.

The first and last time he had seen Stan with this expression had been after Stan’s memory was erased. The blank expression had been burned into Ford’s memory. It was exactly the same as last time.

Ford waited, gently running a hand through Stan’s hair, hoping that he would wake up soon.

Like last time, he would have to wait to see what would happen.

-000-

Ford wakes up when someone lets out a loud snort next to him.

He sits up. It’s morning, he must have fallen asleep watching Stan.

Stan, who looks to be waking up.

Ford waits with bated breath.

Stan blinks awake, yawning loudly in Ford’s face. He smacks his mouth a few times and scratches himself.

Stan blinks, realizing Ford is staring at him. He looks away, chucking awkwardly, his cheeks a bit flushed.

“Hey, Sixer, watching someone sleep is a little, you know, don’t you think?”

Stan’s eyes are sparkling and he’s saying this with good humor. He doesn’t remember. Before Ford can formulate a reply Stan sits up and gets out of bed.

“I’m going to hit the john,” Stan says.

With Stan in the bathroom, Ford scrambles to clean everything off the table. Stan doesn’t notice a thing and Ford is going to keep it that way. He tried to help Stan remember and the result was disastrous. Better to let him remember naturally, or wait until they could get to a proper environment to help him remember.

In the meantime, it wasn’t a hardship to be with this Stan.

-000-

The days and nights start to grow longer and colder. Stan and Ford bundle up, but more often than not, find themselves pressed up against each other to stay warm. They often sit next to each other, arm to arm, with their thighs pressed together.

Stan seems unaffected by the change, happy even. He’s unlike Ford who is a nervous wreck from the additional contact. When they’re that close, Ford sweats and gets a little jittery.

They dock one day to resupply when Stan wants to go the local pub.

“Just to get a drink and some information,” Stan reassures.

Ford looks doubtful, but this isn’t the normal version of Stan. Maybe this one wouldn’t get into a fist fight. Maybe they could have a drink and some hot food that wasn’t originally canned. A meal that they didn’t have to make would be wonderful.

-000-

“Come and get some!”

Stan laughs maniacally as he clocks some guy with a chair.

The locals don’t understand Stan and don’t care. They throw themselves at him while Ford tries to open the safe behind the bar.

Ford grumbles. One of the only times they go to a bar together and they find out that the pub was housing some terrible and cursed artifact. It was only right that they take it to protect the town. But here they were, in a bar fight. Maybe it was an anomaly or the artifact that was making the locals attack them.

Ford hears Stan laugh again after a particularly nasty sounding ‘boom.’

Perhaps Ford should have considered that this Stan was still someone who would steal from a Harvest deity. Starting a bar fight was small potatoes in comparison.

There’s another crash that makes Ford wince and throws off his ability to crack the safe.

Screw it. He uses his gun to blast the lock and the door swings open. The statue inside looks unfortunately familiar. Ford stuffs it into his pocket even though it's pointy triangle edges are digging into his side.

With his mission accomplished, Ford jumps over the bar to help Stan.

There are three men advancing on his twin, but Stan keeps them at bay with what looks to be one of the pub decorations; a rusty anchor.

The men are wary and Ford is about to step in, when one the men grabs a bottle and throws it at Stan. Stan dodges the first, but gets clocked by a second. It hits him in the head and he crumples.

Ford finds himself smashing a fist into the one that hit his brother. Then he draws his gun, making sure to shield Stan, and snarls at the others. They back away and try to talk, but Ford isn’t having any of it.

Just when he’s about to shoot them and be done with it, a hand on his leg stops him.

“Let’s go,” Stan rasps.

Ford hesitates, but nods. He helps Stan up and they leave the pub, immediately fleeing to their boat. Stan is steady enough to work the sail, so they take off.

When they’re out on rough waters, Stan stumbles.

Ford drops to his knees trying to catch him.

Stan shakes his head. “Just need to regain my sea legs,” he says, but allows Ford to drag him inside.

Ford wonders if maybe Stan should sit, but decides otherwise. In Stan’s condition, it would be easier to take care of him in bed.

Ford lays him out and Stan groans. Ford starts undressing him so he’s comfortable. Stan tries to fight him off, but it’s easy enough to bat Stan’s hands away.

“I got you, Stan,” he says.

Finally he starts diagnosing: checking Stan’s pulse (erratic but not too fast), his pupils (dilated, but of matching size), and finally his head wound.

Stan flinches away from him and Ford gently shushes him. “I’ll be careful,” he says softly.

It looks like there’s a cut- but it’s partially healed. Ford doesn’t remember the bottle shattering-

Then Ford remembers. The head wound is in the same place as Stan’s last injury.

Ford bites his lip.

It’s his worst nightmare come to pass. He thinks about calling the others, but decides not to. They can’t help him.

He doesn’t know what will happen but he’ll be here right next to Stan’s side.

Ford spends the rest of the night watching and gently waking Stan up every few hours. Stan seems to be sleeping evenly and without issue so Ford goes up to make sure they’re sailing in the right direction.

When he comes back, Stan is completely still.

Fearing the worst, Ford violently shakes him and Stan comes awake swinging. Ford dodges the blows.

“Stan! Stan it’s me!” Ford catches Stan’s fists and holds them.

Stan’s wild eyes finally focus on him.

He scowls, pulling away.

Ford lets him go. He recognizes the expression.

“What happened?” Stan asks, mouth in a deep frown.

“You don’t remember the bar fight?” Ford asks.

Stan rubs his head, “Did we win?” He asks instead of answering.

“Yes, yes we did,” Ford says.

Stan chuckles, “Then I think I remember putting down a couple of guys. But you didn’t have to babysit me, Ford. I’m fine.”

“Yes, I suppose you’ve recovered now.”

-000-

Stan returns back to the way he was before the whole amnesia event occurred. Stan immediately recognizes the fact that he’s forgotten some time once he looks at the date. He has vague recollection of time passing, but Stan can’t remember any details.

Ford gives him a brief summary of the changes, mostly that he forgot about the kids, but that he remembered Ford. He had only realized Stan was having memory issues once he couldn’t remember the kids. Ford also talks about their gourd adventure because he’s sure the kids will bring it up.

Other than that, Ford keeps his mouth shut.

There’s no need to bring up anything that Stan can’t remember. And there’s no reason to feel sad for a version of Stan that wasn’t supposed to exist.

Ford is in fact grateful that Stan remembers the kids now.

Once Stan had realized what he had forgotten, he immediately called the kids. They looked so happy, and Ford realizes how hard it must have been for Dipper and Mabel to be forgotten by their Grunkle.

He doesn’t begrudge this version of Stan, because with this version their family is whole and healthy.

But now Ford has had a taste of something wonderful that he hadn’t known was possible. And he wants the best of both worlds. He wants a Stan that cares deeply about his family, and who thinks that Ford hung the moon.

When he was young he didn’t appreciate the Stan who thought that Ford hung the moon. Ever since Gravity Falls he could appreciate the Stan who deeply cared for his family. Then getting the Stan who thought highly of him, but losing the other Stan, well, if only it was possible have it both ways.

-000-

Ford often finds himself staring at Stan.

The man isn’t any less handsome than before, still has those intense eyes and wonderful smile. His hands are big and strong as he handles the sail and Ford could feel his heart skip a beat when he hears him laugh.

Ford sighs.

He finally figures out he’s in love with Stan and then loses any possibility of being with him.

Typical.

How did he not realize his feelings?

There wasn’t anything he could do about it now. Well, there was, but Ford was tired. He had such highs and a lows with his brother over these months that he didn’t want to rock the boat anymore.

He would have to be satisfied with the way things were.

Except now he was constantly aware of what was going on in his heart.

As a result, Ford stares at Stan. And he notices that Stan no longer smiles less now That on occasion he frowns and looks sad for no reason. And that he looks tired.

Ford wishes he could fix that.

He forces himself to look away.

Already more than a week has passed since Stan’s recovery, Ford should be over it.

In fact, he should try and follow Fiddlefords advice, try to repair their relationship. He knows what it looks like, but he doesn’t want to take the first step.

He’s staring off into the water, considering his options when Stan coughs behind him.

“Hey,” he says taking a place next to Ford.

Stan stares out at the water while Ford stares at him.

“Sooo…” Stan taps his fingers and starts fiddling with his pockets. “Trick or treat?”

“Pardon me?” Ford asks.

Stan coughs into his hand. “I missed Halloween. Now Trick or Treat, Sixer?”

“Ah, treat then,” Ford answers. Might as well go with the expected answer.

Stan holds something out and Ford opens his hands to receive it. Into his hands drops a small candy wrapped in wax paper. Stan gestures for him to go ahead, so Ford unwraps it and pops it into his mouth.

It’s brown sugar, Ford’s favorite. And it’s homemade like one of the candies that Stan made in October.

“Since there was a treat, I guess it makes sense that there was a trick too. I left some clues for myself so I’ve finally started to remember,” Stan explains.

Oh boy.

Ford wonders what exactly Stan remembers. He’s not sure he can come up with logical explanations for everything that has happened.

“I- I was never tricking you, Stan,” Ford tries to explain.

“Yeah. But we weren’t truthful with each other, were we?” Stan says.

We?

“What about my treat, Ford?”

Stan finally looks into his eyes and he gets pulled in by their intensity.

Stan takes a step closer.

This close now, Ford can feel the heat coming off of his brother.

Stan’s eyes glances down at his mouth.

“You gonna share that?” He asks, a quirk to his lips.

Ford doesn’t reply, just leans in. They meet in the middle for a kiss, sharing the taste of brown sugar candy.

Maybe Stan pulls back first, Ford doesn’t know, but when they do Ford is greeted with a familiar expression. Stan’s face has softened and is looking at him with warmth again. Ford slowly smiles feeling a weight come off his shoulders.

“Happy Halloween, Sixer,” Stan says.

“It’s November, Stanley,” Ford can’t help but say.

Stan rolls his eyes but grabs his hand and laces their fingers together. “Don’t ruin the moment.”

Instead of arguing, Ford leans in for another kiss. He’ll have to keep kissing Stan until they get the moment just right.

#incest tw #stancest #nightfoliage #nightfoliagefic #wannabegrunklefan #a-stancest-halloween #hope you guys enjoy the fic~#leave a tag or comment if you'd like to read a fic with Stans pov

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pines-troz · 7 years ago

Text

New Middle Name

**Ford used to associate family with high expectations, selfishness, betrayal, and mistrust. But over the course of that fateful summer, Ford learned many valuable lessons from Dipper, Mabel and Stan; that teamwork would accomplish the most difficult of tasks, how trust should be given to those who earned it, and that second chances are possible in this world.

Now he wants nothing more than to show his family his gratitude for them.

Based on a headcanon of mine that I shared on tumblr with @a-million-chromatic-dreams**

April 11, 2013

Aboard the Stan O’War II gently sailed the cold waters of the Northern Pacific Ocean. Stan and Ford Pines recently completed their supernatural mission on the Arctic Ocean. They come across a threatening Kraken, some buried treasure and no babes (much to Stanley’s dismay). The two brothers had finished traversing the Bering Strait and were a day’s trip away from Nome, Alaska, which was the perfect place to stock up on supplies.

Since there was a low amount of food on the ship, the seafaring brothers had to make do with what little food they had in the cabin for dinner. Stan indulged himself with a tub of ice cream, while Ford was rummaging through the cabinets for something to satisfy his sweet tooth.

The twins were glad to have gone on their dream trip together. They were able to make up for forty years of cold shoulders, betrayal and separation of a terrifyingly cosmic scale. Though Ford and Stan learned to make up during the end of the world, it would only make sense that they would continue to mend their relationship by embarking on an abnormal expedition.

That’s not to say that their time sailing the world was a walk in the park. Both brothers had their fair share of bad days on the boat. Stan would be revisited by painful memories of his years on the run from the authorities. Other times it would be during the ten-plus years spent as a homeless grifter, a hapless prisoner, or a desperate man trying to fend himself from the vicious men he owed money to. Ford was also haunted by his past. Most of the time it was the horrific abuse Bill Cipher had inflicted on him after refusing to open the portal. But there were instances in which both men remembered a dark figure that loomed over their childhoods: their father Filbrick Pines.

To say that their Pa was a stoic man would be a massive understatement. Filbrick was the type of man who rarely smiled and was never amused by sentimentality. Hidden behind his dark sunglasses were the eyes, constantly on watch for any misstep Stan and Ford would make. He also cast Stanley out on the streets and threw an already packed duffle bag at him, banning him from the Pines household before the poor teen had the chance to complete high school. The disgruntled father also channeled his disappointment into Ford, who expected their son to make millions after completing college. When Ford decided to pursue a career in studying anomalies, Filbrick was angry with his son’s decision and the two never spoke since.

Worst of all, his father would always be attached to Ford by namesake. When Ford and Stan were born, their father had lazily named both of their sons Stan, mainly because the couple never planned to have raise twins in addition to their older son Shermie. In addition, the man had the ego to insert his name as the middle name of the eldest twin.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eye! Stanford Filbrick Pines! My old pal!!”

Ford shuddered. The old man refused to revisit those horrible memories again. He needed to find a way to take his mind off of his past.

Shuffling through a couple empty boxes of crackers, he noticed a crumpled bag of jellybeans. Ford immediately retrieved the bag of his favorite candy from the cabinet and closed the door. The researcher inspected the item within the palms of his six-fingered hands. A close glance at the crinkled bag of sweets sent his mind back in time...

The summer sun shone on the grassy hill near the outskirts of Gravity Falls. Ford had brought his nephew Dipper near the town border to answer his biggest question: why the heck are there so many weird things in Gravity Falls is a magnet for all things weird. The scientist took out a handful of the jellybeans from the bag, including an oddly-formed one, and threw them down the hill. As the normal beans tumbled down the hill without issue, the deformed bean bounced upwards by the force-field surrounding the town.

Ford turned to his nephew, whose eyes widened with curiosity and fascination at the bizarre oddity. The boy had realized that Gravity Falls was a magnet that attracted all things strange and unusual. Everything from gnomes and leprecorns to people like Dipper and Ford, born with unusual anomalies such as weird birthmarks and polydactyly.

Ford put his hand on his nephew’s shoulder and smiled. “You and I are some of the strangest beans this town has ever seen, Dipper.”

“Mason,” The boy blurted out. He was shocked by what came out of his mouth. After a moment of silence he looked up to his great uncle and repeated what he said.

“My real name is Mason. Dipper is just a nickname. But everyone got used to it, and now it feels too late to tell everyone the truth.” He explained with an almost apologetic look on his face before casting his eyes downwards. “And it’s kind of a dumb name anyway. Don’t tell anyone.”

Ford was in awe by Dipper’s admission. He didn’t know what compelled the boy to tell him of all people the truth of his birth name. But the researcher’s heart swelled upon realizing that his nephew, the one person whom Ford held great admiration for and trusted the most had decided to confide in him.

Ford beamed at his nephew while gently tousling his hair. “Your secret’s safe with me, Mason.” He told Dipper. “And I think it’s a great name. The Masons are a great secret society, you know.”

Dipper gazed at his uncle and smiled. Seeing the look of joy on Dipper’s face made Ford realize how much his nephew had come to love him, something he had not received in an awfully long time. Not since his days with Jheselbraum the Unswerving had someone given him the trust and compassion he desperately needed.

Ford would forever be grateful for Dipper’s presence and companionship.

A warm smile appeared on his face.

Ford had learned to utilize his deformity as calling card, a badge of honor he could proudly showcase to the world. When Ford returned to Gravity Falls from the Nightmare Realm, he learned to become more comfortable with his polydactyly. Mabel complimented him on his fingers when she introduced herself. Dipper also looked past his physical flaw as the two spent time together. After Ford reclaimed his three journals, he read Dipper’s entries in his third book and was surprised to learn that his nephew’s nickname stemmed from his unusual birthmark.

Ford used to associate family with high expectations, selfishness, betrayal, and mistrust. But over the course of that fateful summer, Ford learned many valuable lessons from Dipper, Mabel and Stan; that teamwork would accomplish the most difficult of tasks, how trust should be given to those who earned it, and that second chances are possible in this world.

Now he wants nothing more than to show his family his gratitude for them.

“Earth to Ford!”

The researcher spun around to find his brother smirking at him while clutching onto his tub of ice cream. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

Ford looked over at Stan. “I’ve been reminiscing over the summer.”

Stan put his ice cream on the table and approached his twin, placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Thinkin’ about the kids again?”

Ford gave his twin a knowing smile. “Every day.”

“Same here.” Stan agreed, smiling at the shared sentiment.

The researcher pushed his glasses upwards as he continued to speak. “But I’ve also been thinking about changing my middle name.”

“Really? You gonna change it to Isaac Newton or some other nerd name?” Stan joked. “At least then it would be a step up from Filbrick.”

“No, no.” He dismissed with a wave of his hand. Ford then placed his hands behind his back, his face softened. “I want my middle name to be Mason.”

Stanley’s eyes lit up. He had not heard that name in a while. Back in September, a while after Dipper and Mabel left Gravity Falls, Stan found an aged photograph in his wallet of his younger self holding two precious twins with a tearful smile. One look at the picture created a spark in his mind, reeling back to the day the niblings were born. He broke from his trance and ran to Ford. Stan showed his brother the picture and told him everything he could remember of that day; Mabel punching the doctor in the jaw, Dipper cheating death after the umbilical cord was removed from his neck, how Stan was able to hold the precious twins before Shermie had the chance. He also told Ford how the twins were named Mabel and Mason so that they were even more special. From that day on Stan would never allow himself to forget that special day.

Stanley looked to Ford and chuckled. “You actually have a great idea for once poindexter.”

Ford rolled his eyes before giving his brother a wry smile. “So you think Mason would be a good alternative.”

Stan lifted up his arm and playfully pulled Ford close to him. “I think it’s a great middle name Ford!”

Ford gratefully smiled back at his brother.

Mabel and Dipper were mindlessly watching a rerun of Cash Wheel at home when they heard a small buzzing sound. They looked around the room only to realize that it came from Mabel’s cell phone.

“Hello?” Mabel answered.

“Well hello Mabel dear.” Ford warmly replied on the other line. “How are things back home?”

The girl was surprised to hear her Grunkle's voice. Normally the Pines had set up their long video chats over the weekend, but it was a pleasant surprise that Ford had called on a Thursday.

“Things are going well.” Mabel happily answered. “Dipper and I have been busy with school and all of the clubs we go to. I’ve been enjoying Art Club and Model U.N., and I’m sure Dipper will tell you all of the stuff he’s been up to with Band and Gaming Club.”

“All of that sounds wonderful sweetheart.” Ford said.

“We’ve also been thinking about you and Grunkle Stan a lot.”

Ford’s heart swelled. “I’m touched to hear that from you. Stanley and I are always thinking about you and your brother.”

“D’aww, Grunkle Ford…” Mabel cooed. She looked over at her brother and decided that he should have a turn speaking with their Grunkle. “Oh, you can talk with Dipper now if you want. I gotta finish working on my sweater for one of my friends.”

“Okay, well I enjoy hearing your voice again dear.”

“Love you Grunkle Ford!”

“I love you too Mabel.”

“Alright, here’s Dip-Dop!!” Mabel announced as she passed her phone to her brother.

The teen held the pink phone against his ear and spoke up. “Hey Grunkle Ford!”

“Greetings my boy.” Ford answered. “So Mabel informed me that you’re busy with school.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a truckload of stuff goin’ on, but I’m glad to have Mabel around during my down time.”

“Yes, having a sibling you can count on is always a blessing indeed.” Ford agreed. “So Dipper, I wanted to speak to you about something important.”

Dipper’s ears perked up and he went into the kitchen to better hear what Ford had to say. “Alright, you’ve piqued my interest.”

“So I’ve been thinking during my down time with Stan on the boat.”

“Careful Grunkle Ford, I heard that’s a dangerous pastime.” Dipper joked.

The researcher chuckled at his nephew’s jest. “Stan would tell me the same thing.” Ford laughed. He cleared his throat before getting back on topic. “But as I told Mabel, you and your sister are always on our minds. You kids showed a foolish old man such as myself how important family is...and I have another confession to make.”

Dipper cupped the cellphone closer to his ear to better listen what his Grunkle had to say.

“My original middle name was Filbrick, after my father...”

Dipper cringed. From what Stan had told him and Mabel last summer, great-grandpa Filbrick Pines was anything but great. “That’s...that’s awful.”

“I know, which is precisely why I’m going to change my middle name when Stan and I return to Oregon.”

“Really?” Dipper asked.

The teen imagined that Ford would probably decide to have his new middle name based on one of his idols in the scientific field, like Nikola Tesla or Carl Sagan.

“So I’ve decided to change my middle name to Mason.” Ford announced.

Dipper’s eyes grew wide. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

When Ford heard the silence from the other end, he was afraid that he had reopened an old scar by planning to adopt the boy’s name as part of his own. Ford ushered an explanation. “I know that you’re sensitive over the name, but I wanted to ask for your permission before doing so. If you don’t want me to, I completely understand.”

Dipper remained speechless. His great uncle, the man he looked up to last summer, wanted his middle name to match as his nephew’s true name.

On the other end, Ford began to feel anxious. Perhaps Dipper’s birth name was a sore subject for the boy and was too uncomfortable with his uncle using it as his middle name.

“Dipper? Did I upset you?”

“No, no. Not at all.” Dipper admitted. He let out a joyful laugh as tears of joy ran down his face. “I’m honored...I’m absolutely honored that you would do that Grunkle Ford.”

Ford heard his nephew’s voice cracking with such raw emotion. The researcher wished he could magically teleport to Piedmont so he could give his nephew the biggest hug imaginable.

“I want my middle name to reflect the love I have for this family. To do away with the past and move forward with the people I can trust. And I feel changing my middle name to Mason best reflects that.”

Dipper’s smile grew wider after hearing his great uncle’s explanation. “I’m happy for you Grunkle Ford. Mabel and I will absolutely support your decision.”

Ford smiled. “Thank you my boy.”

Back in the living room, Mabel overheard her brother’s sniffling. She dropped her knitting items and immediately got up to check on Dipper. The teen was about to approach her twin when she noticed that he was still on the phone with Ford. After impatiently waiting for some time, Dipper bid Ford good-bye before ending the call. Mabel carefully walked over towards where Dipper stood as he wiped away his tears.

“Is everything okay bro-bro?” Mabel asked quietly.

“Yeah, everything’s great actually.” Dipper replied with a reassuring smile. “Ford wants to change his middle name to Mason. Mabel, he wants my name to be his middle name!”

Mabel shrieked ecstatically before wrapping her arms around Dipper. The boy laughed joyfully as he accepted his sister’s embrace.

June 1, 2013

Stan stood outside of the Mystery Shack as a beat-up pickup truck rolled down the dirt road. When the vehicle parked outside the tourist trap, all four doors immediately flung open as Dipper, Mabel, Soos and Wendy emerged from the car. The four young people noticed Stan standing by the steps.

Dipper and Mabel ran towards Stan as they tackled the old man into a playful hug. After sharing their first embrace of the summer, Stan and the twins slowly got up from the ground.

“Where’s Grunkle Ford?” Mabel inquired.

“I’m here.”

Dipper and Mabel turned to see Ford stepping outside the Mystery Shack in an almost dramatic flair.

“Allow me to reintroduce myself.” He announced with a soft baritone. “My name is Stanford Mason Pines.”

The twins graciously beamed at their great uncle. Ford sprinted towards Dipper and Mabel, scooped them into his arms and lifted them up in the air. The young twins laughed as they returned the warm embrace.

The love Ford felt for his family had truly changed him for the better.

#gravity falls #ford pines #stanley pines #dipper pines #mabel pines #grunkle stan #stanford pines #pines family #gf fanfiction

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mysterykidscasefiles · 7 years ago

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So now that I think about it... How would the whole "Not What He Seems." Episode go down with Raz and Lili being government agents? Would they be able to stop the agents? Would they be forced to join the agent's side? Or some thing else? Actually, what would everyone's views on the situation be?

Oh man… I’m writing a small fic where Dipper and Mabel tell the other kids about the last events of the summer (The other Mystery Kids leave before Ford comes back and Bill takes over, so they aren’t there for Weirdmageddon), but Dipper and Mabel tell them over an internet chat group . I’ll give you a sneak peak of that part. I haven’t completely decided on everyone’s screen names so I’ll just call them by their regular names for now. Also, Dipper and Mabel are sharing a screen name. It’s sort of a running gag through the whole thing, and the rest of the kids get confused as to who is talking. It’s more obvious who is talking when you read the whole thing (I hope).

SO they JUST found out about Ford.

Wybie: What is with your family and twins?

Neil: This is the COOLEST THING EVER!

Raz: Does he really have six fingers?

Pines: Yeah he does! His name is actually Stanford and he wasworking on building a portal that he thought would give him answers as to whyGravity Falls was so weird. However, he soon figured out that Bill was tryingto use the portal for evil, so he decided to shut it down and hid his journalsaway. He asked Grunkle Stan, whose real name is Stanley, to help him eventhough they had a falling out when they were younger. They got into a fight andGreat Uncle Ford accidentally got sucked into the portal! Grunkle Stan took hisname and has been working for 30 years to bring him back.

Coraline: Wow… that’s… that’s amazing.

Neil: Stan is a really good brother!

Raz: But Dipper, you said that Bill wanted that portalworking, didn’t you?

Pines: Yeah, exactly. Great Uncle Ford was mad at Stan forsaving him because by activating the portal he put the world in danger. Yousee, the portal made an interdimensional rift. Great Uncle Ford contained it,but if Bill got his hands on it he could use it to come through to our worldand take over.

Wybie: I see where this is going.

Pines: In the meantime, we got rid of those stupid governmentagents by using a memory gun to wipe their minds of the whole event.

Coraline: Yeah, who needs government agents sticking their noseinto things? >: ) Right Lili and Raz?

Lili: You know, I’ve never set people on fire from across thecountry, but I can give it a try…

Coraline: :P

Pines: Oops, sorry you two. I forgot you were government agentsas well. But these guys were not willing to listen like you two

Pines: Yeah, they were butt faces!!

Pines: SO ANYWAY. It turns out the author was just as cool as Iimagined! We had some time to get to know him better which was so great! He andStan still didn’t get along very well though. However, the container holdingthe rift was cracking so we had to get some very strong adhesive glue to keepit together. BTW I’ll have to tell you the story about how we got the glue someother time. It’s going to blow your minds. Mabel got unicorn hair to put around the shackto protect us from Bill, too. We were worried that he might try and control ourminds.

And that’s the end of the sneak peak. I’ll post the full thing once I finish it.

#case files ask #sirpikachu6

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mythomagically-delicious · 7 years ago

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The Author of the Journals Literally Punched Grunkle Stan Back in Time

Ford punches Stan once he exits the portal, but a combination of exposure to a strange plant in the forest he ran through on the way to the Shack (and being injured didn’t help, or all the radioctive fuel he touched last night) and Ford’s sonic inversion gloves he’d been wearing, Ford literally punched Stan backwards in time. Stan was blasted backwards by the hit, and when he yelled “Ow! What the heck was that for, you big bully?” it was the voice of a 10-12 year old Stan instead.

Everyone was frozen in various expressions of anger, confusion, fear, and schock, except for the small Stan, who was sitting in a tangled heap of clothes on the floor and rubbing his now-bruising cheek.

““What the he-” ““Grunkle Stan!!” “Mr. Pines!” “Oh my gosh oh my--”

The four started talking all at once. Mabel ran over to the little boy but Ford, who’d finally noticed the rest of the room, stopped her, grabbing her shoulder.

“Who are you? What are you doing here? How did this happen?”

That snapped Dipper into action. “Hey,” he called, “let go of my sister!” he ran at Ford and collided with his legs. Ford didn’t budge. Dipper, however, fell over. Ford let go of Mabel’s shoulder to stand back and figure out what was going on.

The real Stanford Pines, once everyone is calmed down enough to explain how they got into the basement, quickly pputs together what must have happened to Stanley. (Because, despite all the odds, that is Stanley. The exact image Ford has carried around in his coat pocket for over 30 years. It’s his twin brother His--Ford didn’t let himseslf dwell on the sentiment for long, letting anger and practicality take over once again. And a decades old blame game as well).

“Who are all you guys? Where’s Ford? Why am I in these clothes? Why’d you punch me?”

Stanley had evidently regained his cuiosity. And though the child tried to hide it, behind the brabravado, Ford heard the raw fear in Stanley’s voice.

It was unlikely his brrother, in this state, would remember any of what happened now when he returned to his proper adult state. Ford ran some quick mental calculations and adjusted the settings on his gloves.

“Don’t worry, Stanley. You’ll see your brother again in a minute. Now sit still. This will hurt a lot.” As Ford prepared to punch again, suddenly the girl from before jumped in front of Stanley and Ford pulled his punch.

“Wait! What do you think you’re doing?!”

Ford was slightly impressed this child stood up to him, but mostly annoyed annoyed at the interruption. “I am trying to return Stanley to his proper age and form using an inversion setting on my gloves.”

The girl looked outraged. “It’s bad enough you punched my grunkle. You can’t punch a kid in the fce!”

“Grunkle?” Both Stanley and Stanford questioned together. This caused Ford to frown and glare at the child over Mabel’s shoulder.

“Great Uncle is a mouthful. Grunkle Stan is easier, and it sounds cooler anyway.” Mabel explained. Then she turned her back on Ford and grabbed Stanley into a spine popping hug. “Are you alright Grunkle Stan?”

Stanley wriggled out of her grasp.

“What the heck is going on? Who are you people? I want to see Stanford right now!”

The girl’s twin finally found his voice and joined the fight in the basement. “Hello--” his voice cracked, and he coughed, embarrassed, and started over. “Hello. I’m Dipper. This is my twin sister Mabel. You’re Stanley, right?”

“What if I am?” Stanley answered, sticking his chin out and crossing his arms. Ford saw his legs trembling beneath his bravado, and he felt his heart pang in sympathy. The girl was right. He couldn’t punch this kid. He couldn’t hurt Stanley when he looked like that--back when they were both as innocent as they’d ever been.

Ford let his mind wander for a second as the three children in front of him argue. Then he became aware of the fifth occupant of the room. It was what appeared to be some sort of strange gopher-like man child. The being was coming toward him, determination in his stride.

Ford immediately prepared himself for a fight, unsure what to expect. The man-child-gopher stopped near him and began to speeak.

“Mr. Pines said you were family. He doesn’t throw that word around lightly, so I’ll believe what he siaid, and accept you as some kooky new addition to this bunch. But,” the man stepped closer, and, while his tone never changed from the pleasant sound, the man’s eyes hardened with his next words, “I will not allow you to hurt these kids. Any of them. I’ve been looking up to Mr. Pines since I was a kid and I will not let him down now that he’s in the same I was.” The man stepped back and smiled. “Welcome to the family, dude. Don’t disappoint them again.”

And the man edged until he stood closerr to where the kids were still talking.

Mabel had taken of her sweater and given it to Stanley, saying he needed something that fit better than an old man shirt. Stanley looked unhappy about all of this but was clearly still too frightened to know what to do about it.

Ford sighed internally. He’d have to go about this carefully, so as not to overwhelm his now much younger brother any further.

Kneeling down before the kids, Ford spoke again. “Hello, Stanley. I understand you’re very confused about all of this. I’m going to try and help.”

“What, you gonna go back in time and not punch me? Bully..” Stan crosssed his arms further and ducked his head, accenting the growing purple marks on his brother’s face. Ford shifted guiltily and he saw the others shoot him judging glances.

Swallowing his pride for the moment, Ford apologized. “I am sorry I punched you, Stanley. But I am here to help.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“Because I am Stanford.”

---

And that’s it. That’s all I got. One day I just wanted Mabel to yell at Great Uncle Ford that she can’t punch a child in the face (especially if that child is Grunkle Stan). Because you can never have enough de-aged Stanley and/or Stanford content in the world.

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sevralships · 8 years ago

Text

Fanfiction Masterpost

The Much-Needed Rebloggable Redux

One Shots

Blind Date - Adult twins live together but occasionally take blind dates to better conceal their relationship. Dipper grapples with jealousy, while Mabel considers what could’ve been on a pleasant date with another man. 7,642 words. NSFW. Pinecest. Blind Date on AO3

Perfecto - When the twins parents leave them alone in the house, Mabel wants to make Dipper a perfecto dinner. Angst ‘n’ fluff, fluff ‘n’ angst. 2,502 words. SFW. Pinecest. Perfecto on AO3

Weird Is Good - (Prompted by kaylaber) Mabel reassures her abrasive lab partner, Bill Snakes. Bad boy Bill raised by Jimmy Snakes AU. 2,016 words. TW mild derogatory language. SFW. MaBill.

Sweatertown - It is the first Christmas since Mabel and Dipper graduated from their respective colleges, but post-grad life has been treating them a little differently. With Dipper working his dream job in NY and their relationship up in the air, Mabel has a lot to mull over while she knits a Christmas sweater. 4,540 words. SFW. Pinecest. Sweatertown on AO3

Mood Lighting - Valentine’s Day gift to Handleonthescandal ! Mabel Pines had always been a romantic at heart. After a lifetime of dreaming of her Prince Charming, she’s beginning to find High School dating disheartening. But when he turns up somewhere unexpected, she has to adjust to dreams looking a little different when they come true. 5,736 words. SFW. Pinecest. Mood Lighting on AO3

Oasis - For years, the twins fantasized about the day they could live together, far from prying eyes and watchful parents. A safe haven where they could love each other freely. They’ve lived together for a few months now and it is lacking some of the passion and glamour that Mabel expected. 5,428 words. TW angst, some cynicism. NSFW. Pinecest. Oasis on AO3

Mabey, Baby - The Pines triplets are back at their Grunkle’s for another summer. When Mabel has the idea to host a talent show for the residents of Gravity Falls, both Dipper and Jo help make it happen. Jo struggles with stage fright and forgiving herself. 7,104 words. TW incest. Angst, fluff, and smut in one tidy package. NSFW. Jolene AU/Pinecest. Contains ‘Just Because You Can’ spoilers. Mabey, Baby on AO3

Making Amends - authorized sequel to @handleonthescandal‘s fic “Mending the Pieces”. After three years of estrangement, Mabel shows up in Gravity Falls out of the blue, hoping to reconcile with Dipper. Can the twins put aside their anger and heartbreak to mend their broken relationship? Angst, angst, n more angst. TW coarse language, TW incest. 3,939 words. NSFW. Pinecest.

Worlds Apart - This fic is set a few months after Ford was accidentally sucked into the portal. Ford tries to avoid being captured in a dimension far from home, while Stan closes up the new and flourishing Murder Hut. Inspired by the Dipper quote “No one should be alone on their birthday.” Good grief, so much angst. SFW. 4,429 words. SFW. No ships (could be Stancest or Billford if you have enough faith).

Reunion - This fic is set in a version of @handleonthescandal‘s fem!dippin AU with fem!dip, Mabel, and Ty. After nearly ten years since the Pines triplets were all together in Gravity Falls for any length of time, they meet up at the Mystery Shack for only a weekend, and Mabel finds herself tempted to pick up right where they left off. Angst, fluff, smut. TW incest. 11,200 words. NSFW. Fem!Dippin Pinecest. Reunion on AO3

Multi-Chapter Fics

A Second Chance - (link to AO3) When Bill Cipher is accidentally freed, Mabel makes a tough call. Both Mabel and Bill find their expectations challenged by each other. 39,751 words, 32 chapters. TW rape/non-con, TW slavery, TW weird Bill BDSM bloodplay stuff. NSFW. MaBill.

Not What He Seems - Bill Cipher has been gathering his strength, impersonating Stan Pines for five years since Weirdmageddon was thwarted by the Mystery Twins. When Mabel and Dipper return to Gravity Falls, preoccupied by their newly-discovered attraction to each other, will they recognize that anything is amiss before it is too late? 42,949 words, 32 chapters. TW rape/non-con, TW gore, TW age difference, TW incest, TW one-sided MaBill. NSFW. Primarily Pinecest, with secondary one-sided MaBill. [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6 FIN] Not What He Seems on AO3

Just Because You Can - The Pines triplets, Mabel, Dipper, and Jolene, have always been best friends. But lately, there’s been some distance growing between the Mystery Kids, due in part to the forbidden feelings with which they are each struggling. How will they manage to see eye to eye, when torn between wanting each other and craving adventure? 35,841 words, 26 Chapters. Mostly SFW. Jolene AU Pinecest. [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7 FIN] Just Because You Can on AO3

Odds & Ends

Out With a Bang - Disturbing Double Dippin’ crackfic. An incestuous threesome gone awry. 2,356 words. TW gore, TW character death. NSFW. Double Dippin’. Out With a Bang on AO3

Waking Nightmare - (excerpt from WIP) Adult twins struggle with sanity disturbances of all kinds in the wake of Weirdmageddon trauma. INDEFINITELY UNFINISHED. 1,296 words. TW gore, TW blood, TW incest, TW insanity, TW implied cannibalism, TW fucked up Bill Cipher mind games. SFW, technically. Eventually was going to be Pinecest.

The Deep End - A Handships Story! A NSFW story about me and the one and only handleonthescandal, closely based on true events. Only tangentially related to Gravity Falls. NSFW. Fluff ‘n’ smut. 3,085 words.

Good Mornin’ - A Handships Story, Take Two! A NSFW story about me and handleonthescandal starting the morning right, closely based on true events. Not related to Gravity Falls. NSFW. Fluff ‘n’ smut. 3,274 words.

The Penile Code - A Fifty Story. A very NSFW crackfic about two fellow Pinecest authors. A Collaboration with starsnpines. 7,818 words.

Bloodlust - (Entry for asterism-pinoideae’s Creature of the Week Challenge. Mine was prompted by the Journal 3 entry on Giant Vampire Bats)When young supernatural investigator Stanford Pines hits a road-block in his study of Gravity Falls’ Giant Vampire Bats, his mysterious muse encourages some unorthodox research. TW bloodplay, TW vampirism/autovampirism, TW cutting/self-harm, TW all sorts of fucked up Bill stuff, TW Stangst. Billford. NSFW, 4370 words

Shelter From the Storm - A Handships Story. A SFW story about me and @handleonthescandal cuddling and kissing while it rains. 1,349 words.

#masterpost #sevralfics #pinecest #mabill

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gravity-falls-musical-official · 7 years ago

Text

Complete Lyrics

Oh boy. All the lyrics to every song that has been written. Here we go.

Tag list: @somer-joure @kerbabbles @atomicspaghetti (AtomicSpaghetti, your young Ford and Stan contribution was recycled and incorporated into the Tale of Two Stans song)

SURVIVE THE SUMMER

D: Ah, summer break. A time for leisure, relaxation, and takin’ her easy with family. Unless you’re me. My name is Dipper Pines-

M: Oh my GOSH! Look at all the grass! I didn’t know Gravity Falls had this much grass- OH MY GOSH A GOAT!

D: That was my twin sister, Mabel, and we’re about to have the worst summer ever.

D: A few days ago, Our parents shipped us up here, Now we’re stuck in some lumberjack town Called Gravity Falls.

M: Look at all of the trees, And all the boys-

D: Mabel.

M: What?

D: Right now I can’t think! How will we survive the summer?

GS: Hey! What’re you two doing? I don’t pay you to stand around all day.

M: You don’t pay us at all.

GS: Touche.

D: That’s our Grunkle Stan. He makes us work in his cheesy tourist attraction called “The Mystery Shack.”

GS: No refunds!

D: Now some would say that this is horrific, but it’s not so bad.

W: Hey dudes. How’s it going?

D: Wendy, Wendy Corduroy, Red haired, Friendly Corduroy, I love Wendy Corduroy, It’s true! But it’d be best if she never knew.

D: She has a boyfriend, after all. Robbie: as edgy and terrible as his music.

M: But on the bright side, I got a pig! Waddles! I named him that because he waddles.

GS: Hey, you. Go put up these signs in the spooky part of the forest.

D: What? But Grunkle Stan, I-

GS: What, are you “scared”? Ha!

D: Fine [Pause] Stupid Grunkle Stan, making me put up signs in the- what’s this? A journal? Suddenly our lives were upside down!

M: Gnomes!

D: Zombies!

M: Mermen!

D: Mysteries abound! This Journal 3 I’ve found, Is the answer I’ve been looking for.

D+M: Now we finally know, We can survive the summer! We will dare, Go anywhere, Uncover any more monsters.

D: The journal says “trust no one,”

M: But we can still have some fun!

D+M: This town is not what it seems.

D: Write down all that I’ve seen!

D+M: A summer full of mystery, Right here in Gravity Falls!

JUST A WIDDLE LOVE SONG

Gideon: This is just a widdle love song, It’s the kind of thing I do, This is just a widdle love song, love song, And I made it just for you. So Mabe-y baby stay and listen, Cause this song is overdue, This is just a widdle love song, love song, And I just gotta say that Mabel, I love you! Every morning, when I wake up, I think of you, and the whole world seems to light up! And when the night comes, if I’m feeling sad again, I think of you, and wonder what you’ve been doin’!

This is just a widdle love song, It’s the kind of thing I do, This is just a widdle love song, love song, And I made it just for you. So Mabe-y baby stay and listen, Cause this song is overdue, This is just a widdle love song, love song, And I just gotta say that Mabel, I love you!

NOBODY WANTS TO KNOW THE TRUTH

Stan: Nobody wants to know the truth. Nobody wants to know what’s real, what’s wrong, what’s fake— They wanna be fooled. Nobody really wants to see The seams and the snares, Hey, kid, they just don’t care. Ya distract ‘em and they’ll give ya green. Nobody wants to look too close. Nobody wants to read the fine print, give 'em the bold and they’re already sold. And nobody’s really all that brave, What’s true is too much for these rubes but a touch Of a sham and they’ll rant, hey they’ll rave. It’s easy as pie. It’s easy as just Two lies for a laugh, And then prevaricate to give 'em a fright. Then tapdance 'round the background—they’ll doubt if your story’s too tight. Ya just suggest. They’ll make up the rest themselves. Just wait and see. You’ll confuse 'em You’ll always ruse 'em Because… Nobody wants to be the dupe. Nobody wants to know the truth Is what they avoid or admit they’ve been fooled. Everybody’s happy to pretend Just to keep living. Pretend’s what I’m giving, Oh, watch me work Watch me give it right down to the end. Hey ma'am? Customer 1: Yeah, sir? Stan: I can carry that wallet. Looks heavy. Hey, sir? Sir, Look here, Yeah, I’d call this a deal Customer 2: It’s a steal! Stan: There’s appeal in befuddlements Packaged and pricetagged so low, Had ya any sense— Customer 2: Sold! Stan: So, kid, you ask my why I do the things that I do. Did you hear the clink of the cash in the drawer? Do I gotta rehash just what it’s all for? (Pause) Nobody wants to know the truth. Nobody wants to know 'bout petty crime or misspent youth, Or who was wrong, And who was right, Or why old men don’t sleep at night. Nobody needs to know.

THE AUTHOR

Dipper: He’ll be amazing, He’ll be fantastic, Like a hero from a movie-

Mabel: It sounds like he’s made of plastic! D: He’ll be brilliant, He’ll be clever, He’ll be everything I’ve ever dreamed or ever hoped to be. D: I bet he’s been to lands untold! M: I bet he’s a million years old! I bet his voice cracks when he’s stressed! D: I bet his every breath puffs up his chest! M: I bet he knows every secret. D: If there’s one he doesn’t know, he’ll seek it. I bet he has a sweeping cape- M: Wait, Dipper, what if we made a mistake? What if he’s dead? D: What? M: What if he’s- D: No, that can’t be- M: The entry here dates ‘73. D: Mabel, that’s short for 1973, not 73 AD. But even if he is old, He’s still amazing, M: He’s still fantastic, D+M: Like a hero from a movie, Definitely cliche-classic. He’ll be brilliant, He’ll be clever.

D: We’ll find him soon together. M: You and me, there’s nothing better! D+M: You and me, and me and you, We’ll find him, the Author!

LET’S MAKE A DEAL

Bill: Ah, Gravity Falls! In color, even! Fancy. Man, it’s good to be back! You have no idea how long I was stuck in the nightmare dimension, kid.

Gideon: Listen Cipher!

Bill: Oh goodness, was I babbling?

Gideon: I have a job for you!

Bill: Ahh... Let’s...make...a...deal!

Gideon: A deal?

B: It’s getting real!

Gideon: What on earth?

B: See when you say those words, I focus on you little nerds! Let’s make a deal!

Gideon: You said that.

B: Bear through my spiel, And you could be anything you want Just agree to my terms and I won’t taunt Let’s make a deal! Let’s make a deal! Let’s make a...deal!

Bill: So, wha’d’ya want, Gids? Infinite power? Money? Deer teeth?

Gideon: No! I want you to break into the mind of Stanford Pines and steal the code to his safe.

Bill: Well. Mindscape invasion, Though it’s fun, it’s evasion, Of the law if I do it for you. It’s a tricky business and I’ve got a lot of plans, So hush up kid and listen, cause I have got my own demands... A little something in the works, Not disastrous, not mean, I’ve just been trapped in a decaying dimension while plotting my schemes. Now I’m not the type of Dorito that likes to lie to guys like you, You seem smart so I won’t waste time on you. If you help me out, then I’ll steal the code. Do we have a deal?

Gideon: Agreed.

B: We...have...a...deal!

Gideon: A deal!

B: It just got real!

Gideon: Oh yes!

B: See when you say those words, I focus on you little nerds! Let’s make a deal!

Gideon: You said that.

B: Bear through my spiel, Remember no tricksies cause I’ll EAT YOUR SOUL THEN WE’RE DONE! Play by the rules and you and I will be the best of chums! We have a deal!

Gideon: We have a deal!

B: We have a deal!

B+G: We have a...deal!

LET’S MAKE A DEAL - REPRISE

Bill: Well well well! Got yourself a problem, don’t cha Pinetree?

Dipper: You again! What are you doing here!

Bill: Just coming round to offer my assistance. You know, I can be quite helpful if-

Dipper: What?! No! I’d never trust you.

Bill: Slow down, kid! Just think about it.

B: Let’s...make...a...deal!

Dipper: A deal?

B: A bargain meal!

Dipper: I’m gonna be sick.

B: See when you say those words, I focus on you little nerds! Let’s make a deal!

Dipper: GO AWAY.

B: Bear through my spiel, And you could be anything you want Just agree to my terms and I won’t taunt Let’s make a deal! Let’s make a deal! Let’s make a...deal!

Dipper: No. Get away from me.

Bill: Ouch. Suit yourself, kid. I’ll be back, and my price is gonna be something MUCH STEEPER.

JUST A PUPPET

Bill: All I want is a puppet, Maybe one with googly eyes, (side note: is googly a word...?) Just a little puppet, Why is that such a surprise? All my life I’ve been waiting, For the chance to have one be Mine, tell me, and be honest, Can you spare one just for me? Dipper: I dunno, Mabel worked really hard on these- B: Don’t you want those answers? I can tell you anything, And all I want, all I want, Is a puppet! D: Just one? B: For everything. B: So what d’ya say, Pine Tree? Do we have a deal?

D: Deal. So, what puppet are you going to pick, anyways?

B: Let’s see. Eeny, meeny, miney, YOU.

Tell me Pine Tree, Did you think that I’d be without plans? A second agenda, With my own goals, And now, strike up the band!

We have a deal! Here’s the reveal... You’re my puppet until I find and burn that third journal! So just sit tight and rest assured it’s nothing personal!

B: Hahaha! We have a deal!

D: No no no no no! Stop!

B: We have a deal!

D: The laptop! B: Your fate is sealed. Hahahahahaha!

I TRUST YOU

[TO BE WRITTEN]

THE TALE OF TWO STANS

Ford: I suppose we should start at the beginning, then. Stan: 1960-something, Glass Shard Beach, New Jersey. Young Stan: Hey, Sixer? Young Ford: What? YS: Are you sleeping? YF: Yes. YS: You're such a liar! I can hear Your nerdy little voice Loud and clear In my ear! YF: Sometimes I wish you'd just disappear. YS: No you don't. YF: Goodnight. (Pause) YS: Hey, Fordsy. YF: Ugh! Go to bed, Stan! YS: No! I'm not tired and I say, This is the best time of the day For adventure. C'mon let's go and play! YF: Why? We did that all day. Go away! YS: Hey! We could be pirates sailing far, Across seven seas under the stars, Or maybe soldiers in a galactic war, C'mon Sixer, what are you waiting for? The night is ours, Use your head. We could make a huge blanket fort on your bed, And pretend to be knights saving pretty ladies- YF: School's tomorrow are you crazy? YS: Maybe! We can save the world from supernatural threats! Slaying mighty dragons without breaking a sweat! Finding buried treasure and diamonds and rubies, C'mon Sixer, why won't you play with me? Aliens, monsters, They'll all quake in fear, When they hear that the Pines twins are near! Dashing, charming, and handsome too! YF: Please be quiet - mom and dad will kill you! YS: Think about this, Just you and me! Our future right there for the taking. A story book fairy tale just opened up And it's written just for us. Stanford why are we waiting? Can't you see? The world is full Of new things to find, days for seizing, I'll punch my way out of anything. And I know you've got my back. Sixer, I'm not teasing. You and me! YF: You and I. YS: Side by side, Together? YF: Together. BOTH: Forever and ever, I'll never leave you behind! MA PINES: Boys! It's way past your bedtime! If I come up there and find that you've made a mess...! S: Those were the days, huh, Sixer? F: High school followed a few years later, and my future began to look bright. TEACHER: Mr. and Mrs. Pines, welcome. We need to talk about your son, Stanford. Stanley is waiting outside, but we'll get to him later. MA PINES: What's happened? Has Stanley spray painted the girls' locker room black, again? TEACHER: Yes, but that's not the point. Your son Stanford... He's a genius! A straight "A" genius! All the staff is going crazy Over his new project. Mr. Pines, he's great! You should be proud! Some college administrators Will be visiting tomorrow. I am almost certain That Stanford stands a chance with them. MA PINES: What about my Stanley? TEACHER: Miss, fast food restaurants were started for one purpose: to give jocks like Stanley a job. Look at the bright side, he'll always be nearby. (Pause) Teen Stan: Ha! Like you'd want to go to college. Ha! Like you'd leave me behind. All for the "pursuit of knowledge," Jokes on them: we're staying side by side. Teen Ford: You know what, Stan, I've been thinking. This is a huge break for me. I could actually do something with my life, Just you wait and see! Tomorrow decides my fate, Tomorrow seals the deal. That project decides my fate, But I know when that man walks in, he'll- Give me a scholarship, Make me an offer. TS: But what about us? Our hunting for coffers? TF: It can wait. TF: I'll make you a deal, Stanley. If I don't get a scholarship, then I'll do the treasure-hunting thing with you. Deal? TS: (Pause) Alright. (Pause) TS: What about me, huh? What'll I do? All of my plans Were banking on you, Being there with me. But those plans I'll never see! All because of a stupid project, I've been pushed aside like a dusty old object And like THAT suddenly my future is gone! (Machine breaks) TS: Oh no, no please! Okay...okay. Fixed it. Good as new. (Pause) TF: Today decides my fate, Today seals the deal. That project decides my fate, But I know when that man walks in, he'll MAN: Son, your machine's broken. TF: What?! No, no! It was working just yesterday- MAN: I think I'm done here. TF: (Pause) STAN! TS: Hey, Sixer! How'd it go? TF: It didn't "go" at all! My project was broken, Stanley. And guess what I found next to it! TS: Okay, so...maybe I hit it. But hey, there's a silver lining! Eh? Treasure hunting? TF: Are you kidding me? Why would I want to do ANYTHING with you? You ruined my future! FILBRICK PINES: You did what, you knucklehead? Get out of my house, Get out of this place! You tiny louse, Find some other space! FILBRICK: And don't come back! TS: What? Wait! Sixer, don't let him do this? High six? (Pause) TS: Fine! I don't need you, I don't need a home, I hate every one of you. Someday I'll be famous, And on that day you'll see, The name "Stanley Pines" on every billboard, And you'll remember me! No I won't be coming back! Not even if you beg me! Look at everything you'll lack, Now that I'm gone, you'll see. So bye! Ciao! See ya! And one thing overdue: Ford, I know your listening, I hope you're happy with the future you lose! (Pause) S: So...I decided to do the treasure-hunting thing. Turns out that gold is some kind of "rare metal." I struck gold elsewhere, though: in sales! Adult Stan: Hello my name is Stanley Pines! Are you sick of band-AIDS that won't come off? You need the RIP-OFF! It comes off easy! RIP-OFF! Trust me, I ain't sleazy. When I say it comes off, it comes off! S: The problem was: it didn't stay ON. Needless to say... It ended badly. But with a quick name change, Steve Pinington was ready to take on New York. AS: Hello my name is Steve Pinington! Are you sick of stains that won't come out? You need the SHAM! It makes it easy! The SHAM! Trust me, I ain't sleazy. When I say it won't give you rashes- S: It gave you rashes. And that's how I began - and that's why I'm banned from 43 states. F: Meanwhile, I had to go to my...second choice college. DEAN: Welcome, students, To Backupsmore. We weren't your first choice, But there's more! We make up for what we lack in mostly bug-free dorms! F: I had to work twice as hard for my degree, but luckily for me, that's what I do best. I soon graduated with 12 PhD's and was awarded a grant for my research, but what to study? Adult Ford: All my life I've been teased, For my hands, my abnormality. Six fingers on each hand, Excluded from group activities. Maybe there's a reason, Maybe there's a place, Filled up with superstition, Sightings. Just a trace, Is all I need to go on. Aha! That's it! I'll study the paranormal, And of sightings, just a minute, There it is, I knew it! In Oregon's countryside, There's a town called Gravity Falls, Where folks say monsters hide. F: I set off at once and started my research. I began to keep a journal- Dipper: AHHHHH THE JOURNALS!!! (Pause) D: Sorry, I just...keep going. F: Right. Well, my research led me to...an interesting circumstance. S: Meanwhile for me, life was great. Everything was going smoothly. (Door knocks) AS: Hold on, Horace! I told you once already. We sorted this out- You gave me a week to- AS: A postcard? (Pause) AS: Calm down, Stanley, breathe. It's only been ten years, Plus, he's your brother. It's not like he'll- AF: HALT. HAVE YOU COME TO STEAL MY EYES?! (Pause) AS: Great to see you too. AF: Stanley. Quickly - inside. AS: Did you build this? AF: Yes, but Stanley, I need you to listen to me. Take this journal, Keep it safe. Promise me, You'll keep it safe! AS: Alright, alright. AF: Do you remember our plans? Our plans to search for treasure? To sail across the seven seas, The world's width to measure? AS: Yeah- AF: Take this, and sail far away with it. AS: You're kidding! That's it? All this way- You must be SICK. Ten years, I haven't seen you! Ten years, I thought it'd be- Forget this. Forget you! I'll just burn this book and leave- AF: No! My research! AS: Get off of me- AH! AF: Stanley! No, oh god- OOF! AS: Some brother you turned out to be. AF: Stanley...Stanley! AS: What's going on?! AF: Help me, Stanley! Help me...! AS: No. No! You can't take him, I just got him back! S: I stayed down there for days, trying to get that thing to work. Eventually, I had to go out for food. (Pause) Lazy Susan: Hey, aren't you that researcher in the woods? Manly Dan: Whatcha been doin' up there, bro? AS: Oh, nothing much... LS: I'd pay anything to see what's in that "mystery shack" of yours! AS: Pay? Money? S: And so, the Mystery Shack was started. I'd spend my days upstairs, selling cheap oddities and museum tours. But at night, I was back in the basement, working on getting the Portal to work again.

THE AUTHOR - REPRISE

Dipper: He’s amazing, He’s fantastic, Like a hero from a movie, And he’s living in our basement!

He is brilliant, He is clever, He is everything I’ve ever dreamed, And ever hoped to be!

Stan: Kid, you’ve got your facts twisted around.

S: He cares for nothing but himself, The only reason why he ever does anything is to get trophies on shelves, He wants to go down in history, A statue in gold, over billions sold, and the world, the world at his feet.

D: No! If he’s as selfish as you say,

S: Oh, you bet he is.

D: Then why have you for the past thirty years worked on that portal for every day You could’ve taken your things and left,

S: Kid…

D: But you stayed here working, with monsters still lurking, and you turned away from theft!

S: That’s enough! There are some things that kids like you just can’t understand.

D: But Grunkle Stan-!

S: I said THAT’S ENOUGH! And stay away from my brother.

TRUST NO ONE

Ford: Take this back, this path of choices, I didn’t mean for this at all. I shook his hand, “show me your way,” And here I stand, on Judgment Day, Waiting, mere hours ‘til Earth’s curtain call.

I never should have trusted him, why did I? He who only watches with a single eye? I thought the dream was pure, But not I’m not so sure. It’s too late to change, just repeat that line.

When I try to sleep, it’s in my head, All burning broken desolate and dead, But there’s nothing I can do, He planned this out, he knew, That I’d have no where to turn after the fall. Besides, who could help me? Who who try? Everything is lost and I trust no one.

APPRENTICE

Ford: Dipper, can’t you see? You are so much like me, Can it be, that you were meant for something more? Your future’s right in front of you, I’m opening a door. Be my apprentice, Dipper, You don’t want to miss this, Dipper, You and me, we’ll take the world by storm! Just you and I together, We’ll change this world forever, Stick with me, we’ll be mystery defined, Just Dipper and Stanford Pines. Dipper: But what about school?

F: I’ll teaching you everything. D: What about my friends? F: Casualties for progress.

D: What about my parents? F: They’ll be thrilled!

D: What about Mabel?

F: She’ll be fine on her own. Twins have an understated ability to...move on.

D: I don’t know... We’ve never really been apart before.

F: Isn’t it suffocating? Haven’t you wanted to do something with your life? This is your chance!

Be my apprentice, Dipper, You don’t want to miss this, Dipper, You and me, we’ll take the world by storm! Just you and I together, We’ll change this world forever, Stick with me, we’ll be mystery defined-

D: Great Uncle Ford!

GROWING UP

Soos: Whoa, dude! Slow down! Mabel: Oh my gosh! We could have the party HERE! Stan: Ha! No. Knowing you two, you'll probably raise the dead or somethin'. Not in my house! Soos: Hey dude! You could try the gym - it'd be a great place for your party. Mabel: That's a great idea, Soos! Let's go! I'm growing up, There's no need for babysitters, I'm old enough! I'm growing up, Drop the "pre" in preteen, high school here I come! In just a couple days, I'll be older, In so many ways. No turning back, now, Look out world, I'm growing up! Mabel: Whoa, what is everyone doing at school for the summer? Soos: I dunno, dude. I thought it was gonna be empty. Wendy: Hey! Mabel! Mabel: Wendy? You're here too? Wendy: Yeah. Everybody's here signing up for next year stuff. Mabel: This is great! I'm going to be in high school next-next year. Do you have any tips? Wendy: Don't try to grow up too fast. Mabel: What? Wendy: Listen, let me be honest, High. School. Sucks. Everybody's angry, Covered with acne, Drama's always everywhere, Boys like you based on your hair. Robbie: Hormones! Tambry: Taxes! Thompson: College! Nate: Jobs! Ensemble: Only four years to endure, But it's like death, you can be sure! Hey! Whoo! Sit down! Get to class! Detention! Wendy: When you grow up, There's no more crying, No more relaxing, Everyone's lying. You can't wake up, This is the nightmare That is high school Ensemble: High school! Wendy: Anyway. Whatcha doin' here? Mabel: Oh, you know, just...planning my thirteenth birthday party. Wendy: Cool. Can I come? Mabel: Sure. Soos: C'mon, dude. We have to deliver your invitations. Mabel: Oh yeah! I'm growing up, PG-13 movies, yeah, I'm old enough! I'm growing up, Sure there's high school soon but I can finally fall in love! In just a couple days, I'll be older, In so many ways. No turning back, now, Look out world, I'm growing up! Mabel: Candy! Grenda! Candy: Hello Mabel. Grenda: Heyyy. Mabel: You're not gonna believe...THIS! Grenda: What? You're birthday party's on the last day of summer? But I'm going on vacation with my boyfriend! Mabel: What? No! Candy, you can still come, right? Candy: Sorry, Mabel. My parents send me to music camp this time of year. There is no escape from music camp. Grenda: Sorry we can't come. Candy: We're going to miss you! Soos: Dude? Are you okay? Mabel: I'm growing up, Summer's ending soon, my friends are leaving. Feels like I'm doomed, But you know what? The sun's still shining through! In just a couple days, I'll be older, In so many ways. No turning back, now, Look out world- Ford: Be my apprentice, Dipper You don't want to miss this, Dipper Mabel: No... I'm growing up, I can't be a kid, anymore. I'm growing up, Why did everything turn out so poorly? In just a couple days, I'll leave my brother, I'm out of control. No turning back, now, Look out Mabel, You're growing up...

APPRENTICE - REPRISE

Ford: See Dipper? This is what I mean…. Can you look in the mirror and follow your dream? You’re a kid unlike any I’ve known! Whose bravery and knowledge have always brightly shown Will you be my apprentice Dipper? You sure don’t wanna miss this, Dipper.

Dipper: I’ll do it!

F: You’ll do it? Oh that’s wonderful my boy!

D: I’m meant for so much more!

D+F: You and me, we’ll take the world by storm! Just you and I together We’ll change this world forever!

F: Stick with me! We’ll be mystery defined, D+F: Just Dipper and Stanford Pines.

FANTASY VS. REALITY

[TO BE WRITTEN]

WHAT COULD I HAVE DONE

Stan: Can this be real? Can you hear how I feel? Are you sleeping, or is it pretend? I don’t think you know That for this battered soul, You’re the world, mid, beginning, and end. Ya know, sometimes I think I’m dreaming. Please tell me how I could have known That after those years Of heartache and tears I’d be here, with so much to lose. What could I have done To deserve to have someone Love me the way that you do? What I wouldn’t give— Had I another chance to live, I’d trade it all Just to keep both of you.

SURVIVE THE SUMMER - REPRISE

D: A few days ago, Bill took over the town, Now we're stuck here, And there is no way out. M: I can't believe this happened. It's all my fault- D: What? Mabel- M: I can't figure out a way BOTH: To survive the summer.

TAKE BACK THE FALLS

M: We have an idea!

S: Mabel? What are you doing up?

D: We know how we can defeat Bill!

D: We’ll need smarts!

M: And sweaters!

D: We’ll work in any kind of weather.

M: Cause we can do it if we work together-

S: What are you kids talking about?

M: Just listen!

D: Before Bill burned the journals, Grunkle Ford started to say, That Bill has a weakness! Now we know there’s a way!

M: So all we have to do, Is bust in and rescue Ford. Then he can help us beat Bill, We just gotta work to

D+M: Take back the Falls!

D: With your inventions and skill.

D+M: Take back the Falls!

M: By the end of this you bet we will! We just have to start with this house, Tell us, you guys, you in or out?

S: You kids need to go back to bed, you’re obviously sick in the head or something’.

M: Grunkle Stan, Bill has your brother. You can’t let him go, you just got him back!

D: We can do this.

Wendy: I’m in.

Soos: Me too!

Fiddleford: Me three!

Ensemble: Take back the Falls! With our inventions and skill. Take back the Falls! By the end of this you bet we will! And that one-eyed evil, Won’t see us now, take back the falls! With our inventions and skill. Take back the Falls! By the end of this you bet we will! No more running, and hiding, We’re done! Take back the Falls!

M: Grunkle Stan, why aren’t you helping?

S: Me, rescue my brother again? Ha, no. What’s the point? He’s dead to me either way.

()

Ford: Let him go you- what?

Bill: Hiya Fordsy. You have a nice nap?

F: Where am I?

B: The Fearamid. Like it? I think it’s snazzy. Have a seat!

F: What are you laughing at?

B: After all this time, you still don’t recognize a flesh couch, do you?

F: Agh! () What do you want, Bill?

B: You know that forcefield thing?

F: What forcefield thing?

B: There’s something that’s stopping my Weirdmageddon from getting released to the masses.

F: Gravity Falls’ Law of Weirdness Magnetism, yes I know it.

B: How do I get rid of it?

F: I’ll never tell you.

B: Then I’ll just have to make you tell me.

F: AH!

()

WHAT COULD I HAVE DONE - REPRISE

Ford: What could I have done To deserve to have someone Love me the way that you do? What I wouldn’t give For another chance to live! I’d give it a-all….

GROWING UP - REPRISE

M: We're growing up, Now the summer's ending, Soon it will be fall. D: We're growing up, Turn our backs on this town, Bye Gravity Falls. S: Now you're both older- F: And smarter, but don't lose heart. S: Promise we'll be back to visit, M+D: Promise we'll be back to visit. W: See ya when you come to visit. M: Waddles? I...I told you, mom and dad won't let me bring a pig home. You can't come. S: Forget what they said! Hey, driver! This pig is going with the kids, you hear me? DRIVER: Now wait just a minute- Uh, I mean, welcome aboard, pig. W: Hey, Dipper. Come back soon, okay? CANDY: Bye Mabel! GRENDA: We'll miss you! SOOS: See ya, little dudes. F: Goodbye, Dipper and Mabel. It was a pleasure to be able to meet you. (Brief pause) S: Kids, you knuckleheads were nothing but a nuisance and I'm glad to be rid of ya. (Pause) M: We'll miss you, Grunkle Stan. (Pause) D: Ready to head into the Unknown? M: Nope. Let's do it. D: So, if you're ever taking a road trip in the Pacific Northwest, look out for a bumper sticker for a place called Gravity Falls. It's not on any maps, and most people have never heard of it. Some think it's a myth. But if you're curious, don't wait. Take a trip. Find it. It's out there somewhere in the woods...waiting.

#holy crap I'm dead #lyrics

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theoryofthefalls · 8 years ago

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TOTF Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven: The Author

Author: @moonbeamjean Wordcount: 9.8K Summary: Jessica finds herself face to face with a page in The Journal that paints Bill in an unflattering light. Much like the unflattering light and dust that’s clogging up the newly discovered spare room in the Mystery Shack.

A/N: This chapter is a nice exploration of some of the friendships that Jess has in Gravity Falls and the kind of roads they will take. Bill of course is a downhill spiral of deception and manipulation, but there’s also Dipper, McGucket, Kiara, Grunkle Stan, and yes, even early clues to ‘The Author’ that she’s only going to realise months down the line. Thank you so much for waiting on the update, and I hope you enjoy!

A whole month was gone now. Weeks worth of Summer were vanishing faster and faster, and Jessica Jean felt like she was becoming bigger than her bones. There was still fun in the ordinary life and sun of Gravity Falls, for sure. Dipper and Mabel seemed to have adventures every day of the week. What was the latest one? Oh yeah. Time Travel. That was possible now. Just casually thrown in there, along with a new pig, while Jess was running a Kissing Booth for Stanford Pines’ silly carnival games. But at least her ache of jealousy was dying. The power Bill gave her was being practiced more and more, and her little secret was spilling out beyond just the twins and Kiara.

Soos was the fourth person to find out about the little taste of witchcraft. Jess needed his help for a particular dance video and, well, she kind of had to explain how she could just summon a J-Pop cosplay out of thin air. Wendy was next - sneaking out onto the rooftop at sunset to find the blonde floating above the roof-tiles talking to ‘herself’. And then Mabel made those two new friends, Candy and Grenda, and suddenly every second day was being spent playing fairy dress-ups, re-enacting romance movies, and summoning glitter out of nowhere. But that was it. No more people had to know about this. It was supposed to be a secret, and she shouldn’t have been putting it on as a performance at their command (apparently, by Bill’s morals at least.) Still, she could float in front of more people now, which was relaxing. It was so easy to just slip out of focus and relax mid-air, drinking some Pit Cola in the warm glow of Summer, not having to worry about somebody finding her.

Now that the ‘Mystery Twins’ had their own channel and she was actually spending time with them, the videos kept coming and coming and coming. She could upload now on a nearly bi-weekly schedule. And the views were getting good! The small amount of money being made from the ads and watches was turning from a couple of cents into a couple of dollars. If Jessica didn’t have the power to infinitely spawn bills out of her hand, she probably would have celebrated this a little more. In fact, one of her most popular videos was just her slapping her hands together like at a strip club and spawning an infinite amount of green notes. She would have kept them, too, if Stanford hadn’t been heard around the corner at the sound of free money and she had to make it all disappear in a blink.

The only one who seemed to be both skeptical and awed was Dipper. That was no surprise. Originally, the friendship between them was a quiet, awkward, and scarce thing. He would ask the blonde for the video-camera, once even asking about her film degree and what her classes were like. That was a nice afternoon on the back porch. But now that Jess was out of the super-powered closet, there seemed to be a new kind of awkward interaction that the boy took joy in.

“This is Dipper Pines’ Guide to the Unexplained!” he announced into the silver cam-corder. It was the hottest day of Summer, and the babysitters were talking outside on the front porch. The boy scrambled around the nest of prepared notes and evidence - Journal 3, Mabel’s scrapbook of Summer adventures and romances, small piles of glitter and confetti from previous videos. Finally he found a page in Mabel’s book, a polaroid collection of Jess and Kiara Phoenix at the fair, sharing popcorn and the blonde making vulgar smooch-faces to the girl’s disposable camera. “Anomaly Number 38: Jessica Jean.

“She came along with our old babysitter, KP, to look out for us this Summer, and sometime between arriving here and four weeks ago, managed to obtain amazing, nearly limitless magical abilities! Like some kind of over-powered fairy godmother, she’s used this (as you’ve probably seen) for makeovers, saving us from crazy fake psychics, and cleaning around the house!” Dipper remembered the footage he’d sneakily caught of Jess around the Shack, her feet off the ground and reaching up to the tall cabinets of the kitchen. He’d have to splice it in somehow. Or hell, he’d have to edit this whole video together without the babysitter noticing.

Maybe he could borrow Soos’ computer? That would be a challenge for later. Dipper picked up the camera, and with a determined expression he approached the bedroom window. His voice lowered to a whisper. “I have various theories, none of which add up to the stories that she’s given us. It seems to change every time I ask!” He lifted the cam-corder to the windowpane and focused on the two girls standing below by the yellow car. “First it was mystic runes, then she said it was a fairy, and then she said she was a teen witch all along! And then one time—! One time Jess was just like, ‘Oh powers? What powers? I don’t have any!’, which was so frustrating, and—“

Dipper froze. KP was there, looking up at the window into the attic bedroom he and Mabel shared. In fact, it looked for a minute that she was staring right at him. Dressed in her oversized board shorts and tight but covering rashie, she had her had covered the sun from her eyes and staring at something just above the boy’s head. But the real creepy part was the fact that Jessica Jean, subject of the video, was no longer standing there.

“BOO!!!”

He screamed, nearly dropping the camera. Jess didn’t seem to mind, watching him scramble back and bumping his elbow into the frame of his bed. “Hahahaha!!! Oh, man…!!” Gently, gently, she floated down from the rooftop and right-side up once more, nudging the ajar window open and squeezing inside. Hips like hers had a hard time fitting through small spaces, but it was manageable. The blonde floating in the middle of his room, arms hung low and knees curled up. Limp and relaxed, dressed in shorts and a tied-up t-shirt. Peaking over her sunglasses, the camera flew into her hand gently and her thumb hit the record button ‘off’. “Dipper, seriously, if you’re going to film me at least ask!”

This was about the third time she’d caught him now. Always a scolding. Dipper groaned, hopping up on the mattress and watching the magic carefully. “I know, I know, I’m sorry,” he repeated. The usual apology, recited and well-practiced. “I'll ask to use your camera rather than sneak it out of your bag while you and KP are talking about…” Another groan. “Boys.”

Jess snickered. ‘Boy’ talk was not the right age bracket for talking about her friend’s obvious crush on their boss. It was more like ‘Grand-daddy’ talk. Ew. She tried to stay mad, but the kid had rare gem of sarcasm that made her smile. “No, ask before you film a girl without her knowledge! There’s stuff I don’t want the Internet to see!” She frowned on a more serious note then. “Wait… don’t tell me you film Wendy, do you?”

He blushed. Oh God, how many people knew about this awful crush. “No!! No, I would never!!”

A sigh of relief. “Good, then I don’t have to give you a stern talking-to…” Jessica brightened. “Anyway, while I have you here…” She shrugged off the purple back-pack from her shoulders, and proceeded to look through the levitating sack. KP had packed so much bloody sunscreen that it was like they were watching a group of penguins touring Australia. But there, at the bottom of the bag, was a nice cardboard box with an even nicer present inside. Jess shrugged it out, and chucked the box into his hands. “Got you something!”

“W-Woah!” Dipper caught it in an awkward bundle, holding it close. It had a lot of instructions and careful warnings on the side, but he recognised the image. It was a video-camera. Frighteningly similar to her own, that he had used for this whole third of the Summer together. He felt his jaw drop. “I… Wow, this is so cool!” He immediately looked at her. “Did you make this?”

Jess snorted with laughter. Her powers were good but not that good. “Dipper, if I could, I would have done this weeks ago.” She certainly wouldn’t have been able to make all the little foam nuggets that lived inside the box, anyway. Sometimes buying things came with more certainty than just making it out of thin air. Hoisting her legs into the air, the backpack dropped to the ground as she flew up in a casual sitting position. “I bought it yesterday. Figured you might finally stop borrowing my camera if you and Mabel had your own!”

Sharing it between two was going to be way easier than sharing it with three. Dipper grinned. All his footage of the Hide-Behind (or lack of) and the bizarre tooth (more like horrifying, cryptic, island-head-monster, but okay) was going to have some new company. He reeled with ideas of what to film. But he had to ask. After all, he was aware of their quiet but distant friendship, too. “Why are you doing this?”

A shrug. Like most of the things she answered him with. “Well, I’ve been using you guys for my channel as much as you use me for yours.” They called it ‘cameos’, but the truth was the truth. Views spiked with the Mystery Twins, and she was making cents from it. “I’d feel bad if I didn’t get something as a ‘thank you’, so I splurged into my Kissing Booth money and… Well, thank you.”

Dipper smiled. Small, embarrassed, just-as-bad-with-emotions smile, in the dimple of his cheek. He gripped the box tight. “No problem! Uhh… thanks for letting us borrow it for so long, I guess.”

“Anytime, Pine Tree!”

He headed for the others downstairs, the new video-camera in his hands and that familiar trucker-cap on his head. She trusted his anxiety and paranoia not to bring it with them to the public pool today and save it for mystery-solving. The items he had ready for his little ‘study’ of Jess were all around the floor in a mess that looked vaguely like a map of her life. The scrapbook, covered with glitter and macaroni, seemed to be getting thicker and thicker by the day. With the smallest shred of effort, the book raised into her hands and she turned through the open pages. So many pictures of Mabel and Waddles from the fair, scraps of crystals from their shrinking-torch, but there were drawings, too. Crayon and coloured pencil pieces of various caticatures, portraits of Jess and KP holding hands next to a blurry polaroid of them smooching at the fairgrounds.

Jessica grinned, closed the book, and waved it over to Mabel’s bedside. And she would have left it at that, but there was something else in the room that caught her eye. The Journal - equally messy, but in the way that an exploding lab or abused library was, rather than the 5AM dance-party aesthetic of the twin sister’s work. Dipper always kept it close and safe, and frankly she hadn’t seen enough of it for her liking. He didn’t like anyone over the age of 12 getting their hands on it, just in case. She could understand that. It was his secret, as her powers were hers, and she could respect that.

It still didn’t stop her from reading it though.

Perched on Dipper’s unmade bed, legs crossed, the book rested in her lap comfortably. Her fingertips traced the six-fingered hand of the cover fondly, inspected the paper’s slight shine, before she opened it up. Most of the dust between the pages were blown out from finally being read and loved again, but there was still a thin layer baked right into the spine. The pages were so thin and yellowed that she didn’t even use her fingers to turn it, using magic instead to avoid thumb-prints and tears. It seemed like the twins were making their own notes on top of the decades-old originals. ‘Gnomes: Weakness, lawnmowers’. ‘Ghosts, seen at convenience store’! And she should have been a little mad, considering that this book was practically a historical document and should be treated with respect, but then she thought about all the notes she used to write and doodle on her science books in college. This was no different.

… Man, there was a lot here, though. The Hide-Behind, a Gremoblin, the floating eyeballs from the cave, and pages full of sketches of the landscape and forests of Gravity Falls. So many creatures, so little time. The kids were getting better at finding them in the wild, though. Even if it often led to disastrous consequences. Another page turned slowly, expecting more bug-eyed weirdos and mountain dwelling spooks, when she came across—

Bill.

Jess paused. Bill Cipher was in the Journal. And it wasn’t in a good light.

He was illustrated as a silhouette of black ink, staring from the page with his singular eye. No lashes, no replicant of the shaky drawings and symbols from the cave. It was him. That eerie posture of his low-hanging arms and relaxed, slightly kicked legs was caught perfectly. Various codes and patterns surrounded him, written down in rushes only to be crossed out again. CAESER. ATBASH. Some codes weren’t even letters or recognisable sigils, but some kind of bizarre alien text of lines and dots - part hieroglyphics, part morse-code, all of it impossible to read.

But there were splatters of red in the corners, and it wasn’t ink. And a paragraph of notes and praise, beautifully written in cursive. Bill has proven himself to be one of the friendliest and most trustworthy individuals that I’ve ever encountered in my life. On and on, thankful and adoring, and not unlike Jessica’s own thought process. But it was all crossed out, stubborn and hurt, and there was a bold, terrifying series of four-words amongst the stains.

BILL CAN’T BE TRUSTED!

She swallowed thickly. Kiara would have loved this guy. Beware Bill. The most powerful and dangerous creature I’ve ever encountered.

It was wrong. The Author was wrong. He had to be. Her fingers pressed into the ruby bindings of the book, and she read the following page. An illustration of the small triangle, in more detail and accuracy, hopping into a barely detailed human brain. It was labelled with several, scientifically accurate parts. REFLECTIVES, said one third. DOMESTIC, said another. THE LADIES, marked the last.

… Maybe the guy was just a lonely kook. Jess looked up from the Journal with a deadpan expression. So the Author was a deranged horn-dog. Fine. The book closed, a little harder than necessary, and she tucked it just underneath Dipper’s pillow for safe-keeping. No wonder the boy seemed to enjoy his writing. But so what? There was plenty here that was incorrect. He was wrong. Wrong wrong wrong.

Bill was fine. She had magic powers. And they talked all the time. They were fine, they were great, they were friends. The corn-chip would have told her of any further intentions. She was smarter than this deranged lunatic and his coded notes. Jess asked questions. Jess read details. Or, alternatively, she asked questions and he would shut her down and talk about a vague, larger plan, and she didn’t have the guts to ask him what that plan was so she just kept her mouth zipped and enjoy what she had. Enjoy the feeling of life in her veins and magic in her bones and becoming something larger, grander, better than just a failed little girl.

She gripped the sheets, and didn’t move until she was called back downstairs by KP. Jessica played along the whole week by the poolside, flirtatious and funny and blonde and sweet, laughing everything off. She continued to tease Kiara about her obvious feelings for Stanford Pines, as old as he was, and waved at Mabel and her sweet, hispanic (??) mermaid (?!?!?) boyfriend. She had nothing to worry about. Nothing.

Is he watching me? asked the book under Dipper’s pillow.

- - - - -

“So who else have you made deals with?” Jean asked some time ago, turning over in the air to see him.

Bill was sitting back, hands behind him as one would put them behind their head. He watched the sky roll lazily by. “OH, YOU KNOW. DA VINCI, THE KENNEDY’S, A COUPLE OF RUBES,” he listed casually. “I HAD FUN FILMING THE MOON-LANDING WITH NASA. THAT WAS PRETTY GREAT.”

Jess wasn’t sure if she wanted to ask about that yet. Whole new bag of worms to deal with. But she did ask this: “Have you ever given anybody your powers before?”

Bill paused. Interesting of her to ask. “NO,” he answered eventually. “HAVEN’T NEEDED TO! AND WHEN I FIGURED OUT I NEEDED TO, THERE WEREN’T PEOPLE IN TOWN WHO WERE WORTH SHARING THEM WITH!”

It had flattered her at the time. She used to spend a whole day of mischief with her favourite triangle. The minute she was out of earshot, sometimes sooner, Bill would appear in a crack of light by her side. The space around him shifting between this world and the Mindscape, as vibrant a yellow as ever. They’d exchange a knowing grin, and Jess would pick up her feet and turn her walk into a float. Both to show off her control over his magic, and because flying was the best thing in the world.

Jessica was getting good at learning his magic. Understanding where it came from. Bill didn’t delve too much into how he learned them - nobody wants to give away their backstory all at once and take away the fun. But she got it. Learn an equation, think of a grander universal concept, and either conjure it or remove it from existence entirely. All he’d given her that afternoon nap by the cave was just a spark for her body and brain to withstand it. Something to make her physically grander than the average twenty-five year-old cheerleader. She was a science-interested mind with an artist’s imagination. It was a good combo that worked in his favour, and appealing to boot. He needed that for the long-term plans. And for the short-term, she was damn fine fun.

They still spend nights together. It was harder to see her during the day, and she needed him less and less to talk through her abilities. Between fun-fairs, pig adoption, swimming pools, and sunsets on the porch chopping firewood, Bill Cipher wasn’t bothering to visit as often as he used to. They had dreams and the Mindscape to talk, to unwind, to catch up and explore the valleys and peaks of her imagination’s hillsides. And he didn’t want to sit in on those long hours of playing make-up and detective and helping the kids making videos for their stupid little channels. So he stuck right out of that, folded his arms, and waited for his friend to fall asleep and finally give him some time.

It was irritating. He was irritated, and she was aware of that, and now there were blood-splattered pages in a very old book with his name written between warning signs.

Technically speaking, spending time with the kids and making dumb videos was still practicing her powers. Bill couldn’t get too mad at Jean for spending more and more time with them. Right? Right. Even so, the girl had to make it up to him. So she picked a night and used the building blocks of her mind and imagination to create something just for them. No twins, no Kiara, nothing. Just her and Bill. She owed him that, at least.

Jessica was about half an hour into her sleep when he appeared. Deep blue night skies, slender purple and indigo trees. The usual level of whimsy, and those same white silhouettes of faceless starlight walking past them. But those eager silhouettes seemed to be vanished, or gather somewhere else. Bill Cipher was a contrast of yellow - not a soft gold but rather the ink in your printer that always seemed to vanish at inconvenient times - and appeared in a burst of white light. On the cliffside, outside the memory of ‘his’ cave, looking over towards the lake. A haze of pink and peach lights, made from only the kind of old-fashioned bulbs around movie-star frames and… carnivals.

He squinted, flying down closer to the sight. The closer he flew, the louder it became. Happy giggles, old music from the 50’s, and rickety wooden structures. Part of it resembled what Stan Pines created in his backyard in the name of self-promotion, the other parts looked like the seaside carnivals over in San Francisco or Coney Island. There was a large ferris wheel that nearly eclipsed the milky moon, with rose-coloured seats and plush cushions. There were games to play that won ugly, llama-looking plush toys with soft pink cheeks and bowties. The Kissing Booth was not occupied by Crescent, but rather a silhouette of white who had curves in the right places and a vaguely androgynous face. He ignored it. Nothing was rigged, everyone was a winner, and there was a distinct perfume in the air of fairy-floss and caramel. It was charming in a very mortal, young-love kind of way.

The girl had worked incredibly hard on it. Even down to the harlequin-styled clown, juggling on a small stage and dropping all his rainbow-coloured balls into his face. Bill cackled with nasal laughter amongst the imagined figures, and turned at the sound of ukulele. Jessica was performing as a busker, something she did to pass time and make money in college, and was dressed in a summer frock of white lace that sat like an attractive potato sack. It was pretty, as were the flowers in her hair. She was playing an old song that Cipher recalled her parents used to play on the kitchen radio, and when his eye found her she immediately stopped. Put the instrument down, float above the crowd, just make him the center of her world again.

She tucked a hair behind her ear, relaxing her legs and standing on the ground once more. “Sooo… you found the place!”

Bill chuckled. “HARD TO MISS IT,” he said/exclaimed. He always spoke so loudly. One of his hands reached for his top-hat, and he lifted it in respect. “NOT BAD, CRESCENT. NOT BAD AT ALL. CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU MAKE SOMETHING LIKE THIS WHEN YOU’RE AWAKE!”

Jess wandered along, the bystanders of white parting from their way. It was hard to tell how much control she had over them sometimes, but the girl didn’t mind a crowded room. It was exciting. Especially in the dusk-coloured party lights and atmosphere of this little fairytale. She wanted to make him happy, show off how much she could do, and it was certainly fun to expand things further and further. “Well, y’know, I feel bad that I spent so much time with the kids lately… Running around with them is fun and all, but I would have liked to spend some of the day with my other friend.”

He heard the good intentions in her voice. She really meant it. The triangle chuckled, flattered and floating, and they made their way to the ferris wheel. She clicked her fingers and a pair of champagne glasses appeared just within their reach, taking gentle sips in unison as the sparkling attendant set them inside the comfortable, cozy ride. Bill’s eye shut, and he drank through the lids as one would a mouth, only to open them again as that frightening slit pupil. It made Jess giggle.

“SO WHAT’S THE OCCASION?” he asked, sitting down with a little wriggle of comedic effect. Jess ignored him, leaning back into the cozy pink pillows. She could make her ferris wheel as pretty and unsafe as she’d like. But Bill wasn’t giving up. “CHAMPAGNE? WEARING SOMETHING OTHER THAN THOSE FILTHY PYJAMAS? AN ENTIRE CARNIVAL BY THE SEA? YOU’RE INDULGING ME HERE, KID!”

Jessica nibbled her lip when she spoke. Her knees crossed over, she watched the bubbles in the gold drink. “Well… I guess I wanted to say thanks, too. I mean, you’ve taught me so much. I wanted to show you I—“

“CRESCENT.”

His voice was sharp. Bill’s eye was on her, and her only. “I KNOW WHAT YOU READ.”

The wheel began to turn, and they rotated up, gently, into the deep blue sky of night. Despite the light pollution of the sideshow, the stars remained ever-bright. Logic was second-thought in the Mindscape. The world could be as beautiful or as ugly as Jessica’s dreams and emotions dictated. And right now, it was beautiful. For him. And she was making herself dainty and small and sweet. She was nervous. And she was overcompensating with big gifts, gestures of affection, exploring her powers as much as possible to push back the fact that, finally, she had found something that shook her faith in the inter-dimensional being.

The blonde watched the view of deep blue sea and endless horizon. The pink and yellow lights of the fair glowed beneath their feet. “… KP’s always said I should be careful around you,” she began. “But she says that about all my friends and relationships.” Bless that sweet, honest girl. A small smile tugged briefly. “… We both know I have shit in my life that I don’t want to deal with. And I figured… that you were the same. You never asked me about my history, so I never pried too deep into yours. But…”

Jessica swallowed. “You knew the Author. And something happened between you guys that turned a good friendship bad.” Those blue eyes kept dancing, taking nervous glances at the triangle as she considered her words. “And the cave paintings, and the cipher wheel, and… You’ve told me so much about the world, Bill, and I am amazed. But I know nothing about you…! I barely know what you gave me these powers for in the first place!!”

“YOU KNOW WHY!” he said, a laugh to his voice. He set the champagne glass on an imaginary table, and it floated perfectly in the air beside him. “YOU’RE A BRIGHT KID, WITH A LOT OF IMAGINATION, AND IT—“

“Bill, no, I…” She bit her lip. The interruption made her blink. Jean gave a sigh, gentle but clearly pent-up, like the steam from a kettle. “Give me something… real. You gave me these for a reason. And you still haven’t told me what that reason is. I’m too polite to ask what your intentions are, but if you don’t want me using them for fun with my friends, and you don’t want me performing onstage, then you have to tell me what this whole thing is about.”

She didn’t even sound angry anymore. Just a bit stressed, a bit desperate, and finally snapping a little. Jess was a straight-shooter when she was serious. It was rare, but she could be. He was wondering whenabouts she’d finally pop the question. And her nerves were turning from quiet and unspoken to loud, and straight-forward, and determined. Enough games. Enough mindless flattery. She was asking for some truth. Bill sighed in a defeated manner. He couldn’t avoid this topic. “SO YOU WANNA HEAR IT? THE TRAGIC TALE OF BILL THE TRIANGLE GUY?”

Jessica Jean nodded. She leaned back in the seat as the ferris-wheel took them higher. A vision of white among the blue and pink of her little universe. His stiff three sides relaxed a little, almost wilting or melting, and Cipher’s eyelid grew heavy. “I’M FROM ANOTHER DIMENSION. NOT THE MINDSCAPE, NOT YOURS, ANOTHER PLACE. IT WAS A BORING LITTLE BLACK AND WHITE SPACE WITH SIMPLE-MINDED PEOPLE. OTHER SHAPES. OTHER TRIANGLES. BUT I KNEW I WAS ALWAYS ONE OF A KIND! SMARTER THAN THE AVERAGE SQUARE! GOOD OL’ BILL CIPHER! A CUT ABOVE THE REST!

“I KNEW I WAS TOO GOOD FOR THE WORLD. I HAD TO FIND A WAY OUT. I STARTED LOOKING UP THINGS I WASN’T SUPPOSED TO, AND IT MADE ME A SMARTER EQUILATERAL. SOON, I WAS ABLE TO LEAVE MY WORLD ENTIRELY. I CAME TO YOUR THIRD DIMENSION AND TRIED TO SHOW THE PEOPLE WHAT I WAS CAPABLE OF, BUT THEY DIDN’T LIKE ME AT ALL! ALL THEY WANTED TO DO WAS BANISH ME.“

“I saw,” she said. Jess curled up her knees, moving closer to his side. “The murals on cave… The red lightning?”

“THAT’S THE ONE,” said Bill. He couldn’t look at her. How could he? Why should he? He was so lowly and she was so sweet. He sighed. The half-humoured tone to his story began to fade. Even when his voice was so loud, so nasal, Cipher just sounded so sad. He practically lost his glow. “I’VE BEEN TRAPPED FOR HUNDREDS OF YEARS. I WATCHED SO MUCH OF THE WORLD COME AND GO, AND I WANTED TO BE PART OF IT SO BADLY! I MANAGED TO HELP A FEW PEOPLE CHANGE HISTORY. MAKE AN IMPACT. GIVE MY LIFE A LITTLE MEANING. BUT IT’S NEVER BEEN ENOUGH. I’VE… I’VE NEVER BEEN ENOUGH.”

Jessica swallowed. She knew that feeling. Not to his cosmic extent. But she knew it. The triangle continued to explain himself and his slit pupil met her blue eyes. “THE AUTHOR OF THE JOURNALS FOUND ME, AND DEMANDED I TELL HIM ALL THE SECRETS OF THE UNIVERSE. I SHARED WHAT I COULD, BUT IT DROVE HIM MAD WITH POWER. THE POOR GUY LOST HIS SANITY COMPLETELY.” He looked at her with what was the equivalent of a hopeful smile. An air of warmth resonated between them in the starry sky. “BUT YOU? … YOU’RE THE FIRST PERSON I’VE EVER GIVEN MY POWERS TO. YOU’RE A GOOD EGG. A SMART KID. SMART ENOUGH TO LEARN HOW IT WORKS, BUT FUN ENOUGH TO TAKE IT TO A WHOLE NEW LEVEL! YOU ARE EXACTLY WHAT I NEED.”

She was quiet the whole while, taking in his story and hanging onto every word. But Jess had to ask, directly, “And what do you need? What do you need me to be?”

Cipher looked at her with his big, adoring eye. It was shiny against the starlight. He was yellow against the purple and blue of her mind. It crinkled in the corners, in his version of a mouthless smile. “I NEED YOU TO BE MY ACE IN THE HOLE IF SOMETHING GOES WRONG. I’VE GOT A PLAN TO COME OUT THERE, IN YOUR WORLD. IT’S READY FOR ME. BUT IF SOMETHING GOES HAYWIRE, YOU’RE MY BACK-UP. I NEED YOU TO KEEP PRACTICING WHAT I TEACH YA, AND I NEED YOU AT BECK AND CALL WHEN THOSE BIG PLANS PAY OFF.” He sounded a little nervous. A glance up and down at her. “CAN YOU DO THAT FOR ME, CRESCENT?”

By contract, she couldn’t say no. But he pretended that she could. And Jess believed it. She believed it all, as he expected her to do. She smiled, warm and tender, and edged a little closer to him. And before Bill knew it, she did something pretty unexpected. She hugged him. Arms wrapped around his pointy frame. Altogether, he was about as tall as her torso - a perfect size to get wrapped up in as she lay back in their booth.

“I can do that,” she answered quietly. “… you weird asshole.”

She heard a chuckle. It was limp, compared to his louder natural laugh. Heck, Cipher was kind of surprised that she was holding him in the first place. Aside from sex with near strangers and grabbing KP whenever possible, Jessica Jean didn’t have a track record of physical attention. It made her squeamish. If she hugged him, it meant she really liked him.

Good.

“WHAT WAS THAT CUTE LITTLE NUMBER YOU WERE SINGING EARLIER?” he asked, finishing the champagne. He still flashed gold light with each syllable he spoke.

Jess shrugged. “It’s something my Mom sang to me before the divorce.”

And she’d hold her like this, too. The same way she held Bill now. He felt her clutch him a little tighter, a little closer, just subconsciously. He reclined in her arms as best as he could. “I’VE HEARD IT SOMEWHERE BEFORE. WANNA SING IT AGAIN FOR ME?”

Crescent smiled. “Sure!”

They stared into the blue, quiet and still, and talked about the endlessness yet contained beauty of the universe. Eager questions about the past and future, venting about her previous relationships and friends, and drinking champagne. The wheel stopped with them right at the top, looking over the world they shared together. Her eyelids grew heavy even within the dream, relaxed into a complete state of bliss. Her fingertips traced the flat, two-dimensional edge of his body, and he didn’t protest to it.

J.F. Kennedy didn’t cuddle. Neither did Lovecraft. Bill didn’t really have many female humans as contracts or friends. Still getting used to some aspects of it. And hugging seemed to be one of them. It was sweet. Not his preferred thing, but it was new. And new things were always intriguing. Jessica Jean, lying back amongst pillows and pointing out constellations in her mind’s sky, held him in her arms. It was difficult to, given he was a being of pure energy and weightlessness, but she tried. And the effort was enough.

The song ended slowly, gently. “You know what?” she said, looking out onto the wide blue ocean. It went for miles. The edge of her mind. They looked at the limitless blue and she squeezed him tighter. It was hard to, but the effort was enough. “I can’t wait for you to come out of this place… I’ll actually be able to hug you for real!”

Bill groaned dramatically. “YEAH, YEAH, I CAN HARDLY WAIT.” And the sarcasm made her laugh enough to spill some champagne.

- - - - -

KP and Jessica were usually the ones in charge of grocery runs. Stanford’s parenting skills were getting better, but it seemed like his cooking always relied on beans and war rations. Not that they were culinary experts or anything, but college life and learning to live on your own meant you picked up a couple things like easy-bake pasta recipes, steaks, eggs, anything that required minimal ingredients and as many healthy things as they could fit. Plus, being a young(er) adult meant they could respect the kids’ needs for brightly coloured cereal, sugar, and fruit juice spelt with numbers for letters.

“Honestly, this one is just an exclamation mark!” said KP, pulling it off the shelf. The bottle was about as big as Manly Dan’s arm, and coloured like a neon pink sign at a video arcade. She grinned. “Is Mabel gonna make her juice again?”

Jess nodded. “Yup. Prepare your liver.”

The car ride back from the store was music, good times, big smiles, and a backseat full of groceries. Loud rock music from the 50’s mixed with trap from last week. It was an eclectic mess of music tastes, which is what the blonde seemed to enjoy most. Every speed-bump made the beetle shake, but the stops and sights on the way to Gopher Road were becoming more and more familiar. Kiara smiled out the window, even at the sight of the massive white and blue tent of the Gleeful family. This strange little town felt more like home every day. Sunshine on her skin when she leaned on the window. Her shirt’s long black sleeves felt toasty warm in the light.

She smiled at the driver. “Could you live here?”

It had certainly come out of nowhere. As did the smile from Tad Strange, crossing past them at the intersection and holding hands with his boyfriend. Jess waved back, awkward but flattered smirk on her face, and turned to her not-girlfriend. “Why’d you ask?”

“I dunno…!” replied KP. In fact, it had surprised herself a little. But just being lost in thought in the golden taste of sunlight had sent her off to somewhere dream-like and strange. She imagined the clouds parting and the shining light against her right cheek like a little kiss. “Lately I’ve just been thinking, y’know… settling down, finding somewhere nice and quiet to work on my comics…” She turned to Jessica with a nervous but hopeful expression. “Once the Summer’s up and the kids are on the bus to California, I might even look into real estate here!”

“Aww…!” Jess was quiet but proud. “That’s great!” Planning the future was never her forte. She survived as much as she could in the present. Anything like a career or a marriage was far, far away from her priorities. “What are you thinking, an apartment…? Or a cute little cottage house somewhere like Wendy’s place or the Shack…?

KP smiled. “Yeah, the Shack is perfect!”

“Yeah… Rustic, charming, full of weird taxidermy…!” “Ha-ha, yeah! Perfect woodland get-away—“

“Hotter older gentleman waiting for you every night…” purred Jess.

Kiara Lee Phoenix frowned at the blonde. This was not a road she wished to bring up. Again. “Not a day goes by where y’don’t remind me of this stupid crush, do you?”

“IT’S ADORABLE!” squealed Jess behind the wheel. Also, talking about the feelings between Stanford Pines and her best friend was a nice distraction from thinking about the inevitable death of her childhood and having to become an independent person. Taking a left turn and finding the familiar path for Gopher Road, she tried to talk while paying full attention. It was difficult. “Honestly, sweetheart, it had been years since I last saw you get a crush this bad!!”

The brunette made a loud, ugly groan of embarrassing noise and hardship. Easy for her friend to say, but it was hard to carry the feeling. “Please stop!! It’s… it’s weird. He’s so much older but he’s so handsome and he really cares about the kids!!” Her experience with boys was awful. With men? Even worse. KP didn’t know how to handle the emotional need in her body. She itched for the comforting headphones around her neck. She sighed, defeated, and hugged herself instead. “Look, what do you reckon?”

“I’ve told you what I reckon!” laughed Jess. “It’s adorable. You’re adorable.”

“Be serious,” said KP, in a rather miserable tone. “Just tell me, is this weird or not? I’m trying to shut off my feelings for the guy but… I can’t. And I know he’s kinda rough, and not the most aware, but he really does the best he can, and…” She was so tired from feeling it. Why did they have to talk about it? Why did she have to feel it?! Kiara looked to Jess for guidance. “Just give it to me straight.”

“… KP, you know I’m bi, I can’t give things straight—“

“Shut your beautiful mouth and be serious, darn it!”

It started off with giggles, but Jess would get to the point in a minute. She made the proper turn and headed up the long, dirt lane of Gopher Road. With a little bit of magic she turned down the radio as a sign of ‘serious conversation ahead’. “Okay, okay…” She racked her brain for good points. Good points about the law-avoiding ex-boxer who somehow managed to make his own business in dealing lies to suckers. “… He’s funny. And yeah, he’s getting better around the kids… Personally, I like my guys a little fitter, and a little nerdier, but y’know, that’s just me!

“The age… isn’t that much of an issue these days. Big gaps are gross when you’re like, in high school and some creepy 30-year-old man asks you about your cup size when you’re sixteen. That’s fucked up. But as you start getting older and a little wiser, people start to blur across generations…! Love is just a concept of hormones and biological urges, anyway, so who cares about how old, or fat, or queer, or how different each of the people involved are as long as they’re consenting and honest to each other!” Jessica’s serious talks always seemed to delve into social or scientific issues. She tried to make it more personal and not just a vent. “You always talk about finding a guy who wants a family, who’s gonna treat you like a real classy lady, and boys our age usually don’t give a shit about that…”

KP nodded with a bitter sigh. Too true. It was why Jess had so much care-free luck in sex and why she’d had so little. The blonde was fleeting and lived on the physical drive that was easier to come by - Kiara wanted something more… mature. They both watched the trees go by as she drove onward. “So… It’s fine that I have the hots for a sixty-three year-old man?”

Jessica snorted. “Sweetie, if you don’t judge me for being a sexually active queer girl, I will not judge you for having a crush on a nice older gentleman who, according to you, is trying really hard to be a good guy.”

She smiled, cheeks flushed with a tint of pink. And it wasn’t the sunshine on her skin. Kiara adjusted her glasses on the bridge of her nose. “Thanks, sweetheart…” she mumbled, quiet and thinking things over. They drove in the silence for a little while, looking at the road ahead and the slowly-appearing rooftop of their favourite tourist trap. Finally, she came to a lightbulb moment. “Hey, I just realised! You haven't got any action this whole trip!”

“I know, right?!” “How are you handling being single and constantly horny in a town full of nice family folk?” Jessica’s face lit up in a big, movie-star grin. “It’s killing me inside like you wouldn’t believe!”

She was about to rant about her last sexual encounter being a disappointing boy at a nightclub a year and a half ago, but a cop car was speeding right past them and heading towards the Mystery Shack. Blubs and Durland were on the case. The case of something. The two girls exchanged a look of concern, silently prayed the Stan wasn’t in trouble with the law again, and hit the gas a little harder. Something was wrong.

The ‘wrong’ was more mumbo-jumbo weirdness in Mabel and Dipper’s lives. They had left that morning with the twins fighting over having to share a room (which disheartened KP, but honestly it was bound to happen at some point) and now seemed to escalate to secret rooms (which excited Jess, but honestly it was bound to happen at some point.) Somehow the kids had gotten mixed up with a turquoise-coloured, incredibly fuzzy throw-rug with bizarre scientific abilities. The experiment gone wrong had just been lying dormant in the dusty ruins hidden in the Shack, and now was leading to absolute chaos. The house had about five people too many and a screaming, terrified pig. Candy, Grenda, the two-person squad, and—

McGucket. Jess cringed. Not that weirdo. This madness was coming to a gentle end, bit by bit, and whatever was a mess seemed to be sorting itself out. The carpet of mind-switching atomic power was putting everybody back into their own bodies. The girls had caught the tail of it, with Dipper and Mabel trying to organise everybody back into their own bodies. Apparently these lunatics had been jumping and out of each other all day via electric shocks. Sorting one at a time was a lot harder than it sounds, especially when Deputy Derland was crying and shaking in the body of a small Vietnamese girl.

“Pffftt,” muttered Candy’s sweet voice inside of pig’s body. “It’s not that bad.”

But eventually, it was done. Required a lot of organisation and KP demanding everybody split into two groups, those comfy in their own skin and those trapped in somebody else’s, and trying to convince Jess not to be an asshole and shock her ‘for fun’. Everybody became adjusted, the carpet was avoided as much as possible, and even Soos managed to stay out of Waddles. More or less.

The boy looked himself over, trying to get the taste of wooden door-chips out of his mouth. “Oh, no, I changed back!” he assured the Pines twins. He gave a glance down at his belly and the dirt on his hands. “At least I think I did.”

“I’ll still eat ya…!” muttered a starved, shivering hillbilly behind him.

The knife and fork in McGucket’s hands were terrifying. As was the threat of cannibalism. Jessica squirmed. ‘Old Man’ McGucket always made her squeemish. Like some awful mess between a tragic story of homelessness and a genuinely off-putting, unappealing ease in his awkward, clumsy behaviour. That, and he built giant robots to take out his enemies. Shady. Dipper and Mabel pushed him out as far as they could, trying to get rid of him as respectfully as possible, but it was the blonde who ended up taking him by the shoulders with gingerly fingers and leading him through the house. Of course. Just her luck.

The blue plaid wallpaper and old, rickety floors were becoming far too familiar at this point. Honestly, they spent more time in the Mystery Shack that at the hostel. She took a glance down at the old man. Long, dirty white beard. Big pickle nose, blushed and pimpled. Poor guy smelt like rotten beans. With the rest of the confused victims of ‘carpet diem’ following behind them, she tried to make polite conversation. “Don’t you have, like, a son you could bother or something?”

She caught a glimpse of that young man at the lake, anyway, but he seemed to be embarrassed of the inventor. “Maybe!” he laughed back. “Don’t rightly know, these days!!” What a kook. Jessica found herself a little lost, slowing down bit by bit as she tried to find her way in the labyrinth of rooms. Sometimes the house was more of a maze than a home. But McGucket pointed at a particular hallway. “Door’s that way, little lady!”

Jess frowned. A particularly correct hallway. “I know, I know…”

McGucket wouldn’t keep his mouth shut. “Has that pig always lived here?!”

“Mabel got him at a fun-fair, not that it’s any of your business.”

“You can win pigs at the fun-fair?!”

“Yeah, I…” Jess glanced at the living-room as they walked by. McGucket seemed to have his eyes set on the square-jawed, overweight uncle sitting in front of the TV. She snickered. “Were you talking about Grunkle Stan?”

“That’s a nice name for a pig!!”

Okay, she had to laugh at that. The hard push against his slack shoulders eased up just a bit. She was expecting her boss to yell at the two of them for poking fun, but he seemed pretty focused on cleaning a pair of glasses. Or maybe the episode of Baby Fights was particularly interesting. Whatever. She opened up the front door and shooed everybody out, a gentle hand waving away the two girls and the charming officers. Blubs began to give Grenda a proper talking to about ‘excessive giggling’. The sky was peach with the setting sun. Pink seemed to be the colour of Jessica’s summer nights these days. It was a nice view.

She looked down to her left. McGucket was watching the sky, too. Even through his cross-eyed pupils and hundred-yard stare. She would have thought it was sweet if not for the overwhelming stench of raccoons, rusty tin, and unwashed clothing.

Oh, to hell with it. The guy hadn’t eaten and was clearly homeless. Apparently McGucket slept in the Gravity Falls junkyard - he couldn’t help that he was as unstable as a rowboat in a storm, and was probably too crazy to remember this, anyway. Jess pulled a crisp fifty-dollar note from the inside of her bare palm, and held it out to the old man. He blinked at it.

She winced. “Please just take it.”

“What for?” he asked. His voice was still as twangy as banjo string.

She grimaced. “You haven’t eaten in a week and you smell like crap and I don’t want you in this house again, okay? Just take the money.”

It all came out a lot quicker and awkward than she’d anticipated. But the old guy didn’t seem to mind. Then again McGucket also had a bandaid on his beard and a cast for a wrist injury that had probably healed five years ago. He played with the note in his hands, stretching and twisting it about. He stood there, a little stunned, and Jess closed the door on him. Weirdo. The four kids were talking outside, trying to avoid the questions of the officers, and the house was finally quiet. Thank God. All that pig-screaming and running around in literal circles was getting to her. So much for a calm day getting groceries.

Jessica risked having a float, lifting up her feet and pocketing her hands in her overalls. Down the quiet hallways of old wood, save for the sound of crying children muffled in the lounge-room down the hallway. The static sound of the channels being flicked through one by one gave the house some white noise to it. It was nice. Cozy. Along with the gentle sounds of soft voices, understanding and anxious tones, that she only recognised as that of her best friend. She ducked in her head to find Kiara and Stanford there, changing channels. The eye-wear in his hand was practically squeaky clean, but the guy wouldn’t stop polishing it. KP had the remote and seemed to be finding something on the telly.

They were shaped kind of different from the ones he usually wore. She nodded towards them, and got to her feet pronto before their boss could recognise them. “Cool glasses.” He pocketed them in the striped boxer shorts, and grumbled something incoherent. She tried more conversation. “… They new?”

“Old,” answered the man gruffly. He reclined back in his vomit-coloured chair. This house had furniture from so many decades it was getting ridiculous. But nothing beat the old chair and the stone walls of the living room. He ignored her for a moment, and looked up at the better babysitter. “You gonna join in on this rerun or leave the mystery to me?”

KP laughed a little too loudly. “U-Uh… yeah! Sure!” And while there was room on the massive arms of the chair, she picked the soft and worn-out lounge to lie back on. A safe distance from Stanford and hopefully enough for him to forget the blush that was spreading to her face. Jess smiled internally. Girl had it bad.

Stan noticed the staring. He glanced at Jess up and down, and hiked a thumb towards the stairwell. He wasn’t going to have her standing around being a millennial nightmare when she could’ve been put to some good work. Especially when the ‘suck up’ contest was at an end and he could no longer abuse the fine line between ‘child labour’ and ‘time with the kids’. “Goldilocks, go clean up the new room for Dipper tonight, will ya?”

Her face caved. “Why me?”

“Because the kids have worked all day, Soos is being weird, and KP and I are watching TV. Get to it.”

The past week, she’d spent plenty of time being nice and doing favours for other people. Buying a video camera for the kids, making a spectacular carnival for herself and Bill to play in, and creating money from thin air to feed a weird old guy who married something that he found in a dumpster. Maybe the good-deeds energy from it was still in effect, or maybe the fact that KP and Stanford could have some time alone together was reason enough to do it. Jessica pretended to whine and get under Stan’s skin. Arms folded, leaning over to try and see the blurred screen, big pomp and fuss with her chest stuck out defensively. Play up and act like the clown. But when she left, Jess gave the slightest wink to KP. Those two could have some fun, even if was at an arm’s distance apart.

Kiara glanced nervously between the television screen and Stanford Pines. It was an ad-break, and she was trying to find something to talk about other than the massive, quiet, ink-blot of tension and romantic interest. “So…” she tried. “Th-the room’s going to Dipper then?”

Stan gave a shrug. “Yeah, let the nerd have it! It suits him.” He cleared his throat a little, reclining back on the couch and putting his hands behind his head. “I was gonna give it to you two girls, but I figured life at the hostel seemed pretty fun. Didn’t wanna, uh… cramp your style or anything.”

KP scoffed. “Yeah, it’s fun if you enjoy unwashed dishes, termites, and listening to people have loud sex at three in the morning…!”

“Ha!” The old man chuckled and turned to the young woman at his side. The re-run of Ducktective seemed to be less important. “Yeah you’re right. A pretty thing like you must be smothered with attention from all the guys there.”

Kiara could have swallowed her tongue as the red blush claimed her face.

The room was found by Soos that very morning. He’d decided, on his own love for the place and because Mr Mystery told him to, to clean up the boxes in the storage area. The towers of cardboard were greying, some soggy, all of them covered in specks of dust and mildew. They were sealed clumsily by Stanford with duct-tape and remained unopened. The guy had done as best as he could to organise them, but being unable to see what was inside it was more about vacuuming and dusting the piles already there. But he’d moved around enough to reveal a door, traditionally carved from redwood and resembling faintly of a Swedish get-away. Painted with green, yellow and blue floral accents amongst the deep rouge tones. This whole house was designed with bits and bobs from different styles, but this room was by far the strangest. When they’d asked Stan what the hell he’d locked it away for, apparently it was just easier to shut off the previous owner’s junk entirely than try to sort through and figure out what to sell. Lazybones.

It was caked in dust, save for where the kids had been running around. The first thing Jess did was roll up that chaotic piece of carpeting, not even touching the weird old thing but rather curling it up with her mind. The heavy piece of blue and gold shag helped prop the door open and let the room breathe a little more. The tag of Experiment 78 stuck out in a faded silver label. The square underneath was that perfect shape of dust-free space, and the greyed wooden floor was nearly white from being beneath the rug all these years. It had a stronger scotch and masculine smell, like Stan’s office, but it was fainter with the sands of time and smelt less of sweaty laundry. The guy really hadn’t touched it for a while.

Flying made things easier. As did summoning a dusting brush and a vacuum cleaner when she needed one. That way she could get rid of all the creepy cobwebs up in the hard-to-reach corners. Way easier to do now than when Jess was just a five-foot rocket without any fuel. She took in the room’s ambience while she was up there - this 70’s-designed hide-away of red asymmetrical furniture, low knee-high cabinets, and a small, stained-glass window with pink and orange squares. It filled the room with roses, the blue throw-pillows and yellow lamps being little spots of contrast to the colour. It was sweet. Very nicely designed. The rest of the Shack seemed to be mismatched with a memory of the original log-cabin, retro vibe. Stanford had renovated the place time and time again to make his home into a Mystery Shack. The Mystery Shack. But this place? It was untouched.

She pulled down the blue sheet that was hung open over a fold-away mirror. Somebody didn’t want to be seen, but it sure as hell wasn’t Jess. With a little turn and pose, twirling the duster between her fingers and checking out her own curves, she spotted little glass pyramids lined up on a shelf behind her. After a brief clean-up came a chance to play, and she lifted them up in the pink light of the room, reflecting rainbows across the walls and mirrors. A laugh escaped into the quiet. This room seemed to have plenty of knick-knacks - the calendar on the wall was stuck on a picture of a very fierce-looking owl (marked with the fourth of July, 1982), a trophy for a valedictorian, and a framed portrait of a short-haired, bushy-browed young lady who looked a lot like Mary Shelly.

Jess squinted. “… Fuck, I think that is Mary Shelly.”

Books, lamps, and retro clock on top of a blocked-up fireplace. She broke her foot roughly through the boards and vacuumed old ash. A lot of notes had been burned there. And there were stacks and stacks of papers all around. The shelves were full of old-school scoff novels and first editions. Some were guilty pleasure pulp types, and others hardback copies of famous theories and nonfiction collections. This room was… kind of awesome. Jessica was more of a 1960’s, psychedelic, free-love and flower-crowns soul to her trashy 90’s aesthetic, but she really did like the touch of modern 70’s here and there. No wonder Dipper and Mabel fought for it. If she had her say, she’d have been knocking them out for the key, too.

She adjusted the round, yellow lampshade until her feminine standards of ‘tidy’ were met. It was a shame this place was about to smell like unwashed jocks, and not the charming shelf of whiskies and scotch. It was a real shame of Stan to keep this place hidden for so long. But it was understandable. After all, this place was nothing like him. Nothing like Stanford Pines at all.

#gravity falls #gravity falls oc #gravity falls ocs #stanley pines #stanford pines #dipper pines #bill cipher #jessica jean #theory of the falls #totf chapters #AND ONCE AGAIN I WROTE A CHAPTER THAT'S LIKE 10K AND I'M REALLY SORRY #thank you again for reading and enjoying!!!!

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pinetwiins · 7 years ago

Text

This blog is a IC blog & a RP blog.

Posts without “” are characters just blogging, mutuals feel free to interact (especially if they know your character) Its like a Multiverse facebook thing lol. Posts with “” are RP posts/threads.

in character daily blogging is in the main verse, and its post Stanley opening the portal. (Main verse) - Ford has been in gravity falls for 2 weeks. (And weirdmagedon has not happened yet.)

Rp posts are dependent on what we want to rp but will probably be post Weirdmagedon when interacting.

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;Pines Family;

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Twin Set 1:

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Stanford Filbrick Pines Species; Human Powers: very very smart Age: Sixties (born June 15) Twin: Older Origins: Glass Shard Beach, New Jersey

Other names: The Author, Grunkle Ford, Fordsie, Six, Fingers, Poindexter, Sixer, Brainiac

Relatives: Filbrick Pines (father), Mrs. Pines (mother),

Stan Pines (twin brother), Shermy Pines (brother), Marilyn (ex-sister-in-law), Dipper and Mabel’s parents(nephew and niece-in-law), Dipper Pines (great-nephew), Mabel Pines (great-niece)

Occupation: Paranormal Investigator

Home: Glass Shard Beach, New Jersey (hometown), 618 Gopher Road, Gravity Falls, Oregon (former), Bunker (former)

Goal: To unravel the secrets of Gravity Falls

Weapons: Laser gun, Magnet gun, Quantum destabilizer

Likes: Girls talking to him, Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons, Jelly beans (especially deformed ones)

Dislikes: Being followed, Being manipulated, Toffee Peanuts

Quote

“Remember: in Gravity Falls there is no one you can trust.”

Stanford Filbrick “Ford” Pines, also known as The Author, is a paranormal investigator who came to Gravity Falls, Oregon, to study the huge concentration of supernatural activity in and around the town. After spending years of cataloging his research in a series of journals, he disappeared into an alternate dimension. His writings were left as the only evidence of his existence.

Ford’s identity and whereabouts were a central mystery and element of foreshadowing of the Gravity Falls series until the middle of the show's second season when he was revealed to be Stan Pines' long-lost twin brother, who vanished after a fight with his brother caused him to stumble through the universe portal.

(cont. under read more)

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Stanley Pines Species; Human Powers: None Age: Sixties (born June 15) Twin: Younger Origins: Glass Shard Beach, New Jersey

Relatives: Filbrick Pines (father), Mrs. Pines (mother), Ford Pines (twin brother), Shermy Pines (brother), Marilyn (ex-wife), Dipper and Mabel’s parents(nephew and niece-in-law), Dipper Pines (great-nephew), Mabel Pines (great-niece)

Occupation: Owner of Mystery Shack, Mabel’s agent

Home: 618 Gopher Road, Gravity Falls, Oregon, Glass Shard Beach, New Jersey (hometown), 005 Dead End Flats, New Mexico (former)

Goal: To be wealthy, To rescue his brother (fulfilled)

Likes: Making money, His niece and nephew, Toffee Peanuts, Cheap labor, Drama/romance movies, Scaring children on Summerween, Wax Stan, Carla McCorkle, Goldie

Dislikes: Showing affection, Losing the remote,Pioneer Day , Gideon Gleeful, Heights (formerly), People messing with his family, Saying please and thank you, Being compared to Ford, Paying taxes.

Quote

“When life gives you lemons, call them ‘yellow oranges’ and sell them for double the price.”

Notable alias: Stanley Pines, Mr. Mystery, Mr. Pines, the Old One, Steve Pinington, Stetson Pinefield, Andrew “8-Ball” Alcatraz, Hal Forrester, Stanford Pines, S618 (prison number), 061800 (Gravity Falls prison number) 618 (Mystery Shack Address)

Stanley “Stan” Pines, also known as Grunkle Stan, and formerly under the assumed identity Stanford Pines is Dipper and Mabel Pines’ great uncle and summer guardian. After many years of crime and infamy, he has taken up residence in the remote town of Gravity Falls, Oregon, where he exploits local lore and the gullibility of the “dumbest people in the world" to finance himself by running a dubious tourist trap known as the Mystery Shack.

Despite his initial claims of skepticism to the supernatural, he is later revealed to be deeply connected with the paranormal,most notably the decades-long operation of an interdimensional portal he has used to rescue his twin brother, Ford Pines.

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Twin Set 2:

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(Mason) Dipper Pines. Species; Human Powers/abilitys: Mystery and puzzle solving, Monster hunting, Playing the sousaphone Age: 12, 13 - Post “Weirdmageddon” (born August 31, 1999) Twin: younger. Origins: Piedmont, California

Other names: Pine Tree, Bro-Bro, Sir Dippingsauce, Dipstick, Dipper the Destructor

Relatives: Dipper and Mabel’s parents (parents), Mabel Pines (twin sister), Shermy Pines (grandfather), Filbrick Pines (great-grandfather), Mrs. Pines (great-grandmother), Stan Pines (great-uncle), Marilyn Pines (great-aunt), Ford Pines (great-uncle)

Occupation: Mystery Shack employee (formerly)

Home: Staying at 618 Gopher Road, Gravity Falls, Oregon, for summer vacation, Resides in Piedmont, California

Goal: To discover the mysteries of Gravity Falls, To win Wendy’s affection (formerly), To learn the identity of the author of the journals (fulfilled), To graduate from high school with a high GPA and get accepted in to a good college so he can start his own ghost hunting show, To save the world (fulfilled)

Weapons: Memory Gun (destroyed), Height-altering flashlight, Journal 3 (abandoned)

Likes: Solving mysteries, Disco Girl, BABBA, Fight Fighters

Dislikes: Being underestimated, Being called adorable, Wendy dating Robbie, People messing with his sister, Mermando, Uncertainty, Dippy Fresh

“When life gives you lemons, extract the juice and use it to draw a treasure map in invisible ink. That really works! Seriously!”

Mason “Dipper” Pines(born August 31, 1999,5 minutes after Mabel Pines) is a smart, curious, and adventurous 13-year-old boy spending the summer with his Great Uncle Stan in Gravity Falls, Oregon, where he and his sister constantly encounter the town’s paranormal side. Armed with a mysterious journal he had found, he is one of the two main protagonists of Gravity Falls, who dares to investigate the mysteries of his summer home throughout the summer.

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Mabel Pines. Species; Human

Powers/abilitys: Knitting,Arts and crafts,Design,Strange knack for identifying when Robbie is around,Lock picking,Miniature golf

Age: 12, 13 - Post “Weirdmageddon” (born August 31, 1999) Twin: Older (by 5 minuets) Origins: Piedmont, California

Other names: Hambone, Shooting Star, Lady Mabelton, Master Mabel

Pets: Waddles

Occupation: Mystery Shack employee (formerly), Official U.S. congresswoman.

Home: Staying at 618 Gopher Road, Gravity Falls, Oregon, for summer vacation, Resides in Piedmont, California

Goal: To have an epic summer romance, To become president of the United States of America

Weapons: Grappling hook, Attack glitter, Kittens for fists (in the mindscape)

Likes: Sweaters, Romance, Sparkles, Ponies, Cute things, Vampires,Boys, Being silly,Gummy Koalas, Halloween,The truth, Mermando,Hanging out with her friends, Cats, Sev'ral Timez,Stickers, Color, Matchmaking,Unicorns (formerly), Believe in Yourself

Dislikes: family or friends in danger or trouble,Being insulted by Pacifica Northwest, Gideon Gleeful,Smile Dip,Heights,Being in charge of the Mystery Shack,Lies,Losing her cuteness, The future, Claymation,Country music

“When life gives you lemons, draw faces on those lemons and wrap them in a blanket. Ta-daaa! Now you have lemon babies.”

Mabel Pines (born August 31, 1999, 5 minutes before Dipper Pines) is a bouncy, energetic, optimistic, hyperactive, enthusiastic, and free-spirited 13-year-old girl spending the summer with her Great Uncle Stan in Gravity Falls, Oregon, where she and her brother frequently encounter the supernatural. She takes a much less serious approach to life than her twin brother as she navigates her way around odd, new surroundings.

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Twin set 3: Bill (cannon) & (Rational) Will (Splitted falls AU)

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Bill Cipher; Dream demon. - Creature № 326

Form: Triangle

Abilities: Apportation, Clairvoyance, Piano playing, Cross-Dimensional Awareness,Illusion manipulation, Intangibility, Innate Capability, Nigh Omnipotence, Laser Manipulation,Levitation, Molecular Manipulation, Nightmare Inducement,Possession,Precognition,Pyrokinesis,Size shifting,Telekinesis, Telepathy

Age: Trillions of years old Twin: Younger Origins: Flat Land - Dimension Destroyed

is cunning, blasphemous, eccentric, insane, psychopathic, and physically irreverent

Weaknesses: Memory Gun, Zodiac, Quantum destabilizer

Other names: Muse, Bipper (when possessing Dipper), The One-Eyed Beast, The Triangle Guy, Isosceles Monster,Evil Triangle

Relatives: parents Dead, William Cipher (Twin brother)

Home: Unnamed two-dimensional dimension (formerly) - FlatLand, Nightmare Realm

Goal: To rule all of reality and existence.

Likes: Conjuring into whatever form people fear the most, Chaos, Partying, Destruction

Dislikes: Synthesized music, Deals being called off, Magic symbol named Kryptos

“Remember! Reality is an illusion, the universe is a hologram, buy gold, BYE!”

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Will Cipher; Dream demon. - Creature № 326

Form: Triangle Powers: Age: Trillions of years old Twin: Older Origins: Flat Land - Dimension Destroyed

rational and almost emotionless, really calm, logical, strict and impartial. His sense for emotions, opinions etc is only really low and therefore almost unnoticeable.

So he wouldn’t even see any reason to lie to a person, to differ things in their value or to gain any desires.

Just like Bill he would make deals in the same ways but just as said, there's nothing that he would want to have (or nobody could give him..)

Unlike his opposite, William would strictly adhere to the rules when it comes to a deal. So right before the handshake he would

name all exact facts and agreements of the contract and would accept only if everything is cleared.

But in case of a breach - no matter from which side - there wil be some consequences: The whole contract will get void

and everything that was obtained during the time of the deal will vanish completely. No matter if anything material or even gained knowledge.

William has generally the same knowledge and powers like Bill.

Every knowledge or power that one of them could aquire is also available for the other.

But that state of knowledge or abilities could differ by now. Simply because one of them has his priorities

about “useful” and “useless” stuff while the other one makes no difference and rather tries to know optimally everything.

———————————————————————–

his flames are yellow in contrast to Bills blue ones

Both of them would actually be able to masqurade as the other one but the disguise would fall apart when it comes to a deal because the flame can’t get imitaded (headcanon)

His bodylanguadge is always rather calm and modest

His voice is rather deep and always accompanied with an echoing whisper

I think that William could understand the human psyche, biology and body functions more than Bill does, simply because he studied them more while Bill only picks himself the useful facts

You could say that he’s kind of a sociopath. He simply doesn’t see any reason in “emphatizing” with any creature.

While Bill despise him for that boring and suspending strictness, William can’t understand his sadistic and selfcentered behaviour.

Sarcasm is one of those things that can confuse him every time even if he understands its purpose

He has no sense of phantasie or imagination. So asking him to design something or to “free style” is pretty useless

During a deal he will do anything needed to completely fulfill his duties for the settlement. So his actions might seem a little

off sometimes and could lead to misunderstandings, for example being almost affectionate to his deal partner or being quite submissive

He got his similar look from a direct reference to Bill since he wasn’t able to come up with something on his own. And he only

choose this appearance when he had to approach to others, otherwise he wouldn’t see any sense in it

While speaking he wouldn’t ramble like “Uuhh..” or “Err..” whenever he has to think about or remember something.

Instead he would just keep quiet and stare into the emptiness.

He’s not used to use any commonplace phrases like “thank you”, “sorry” or “please”.

Not because he wouldn’t be polite enough but courtesy is a thing that got etablished between humans or at least social creatures.

So it will sometimes sound compelled or tardy

Plus he doesn’t curse or swear. Not even a simple “My god”. The utmost thing he would say is “geez” or “Oh my”

Probably he wouldn't take any attacks personal even if they are. He would just defend himself if needed and that’s it

He has no sense for shame or honor so he wouldn’t feel embarrassment.

No matter if it’s about his own actions or about the secrets of someone else..

Whenever he speaks to a person he would always float on eye level with his counterpart

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Dillam (OC - Flatlander) Dream Demon in training.

Form: Triangle

Abilities: If they manage to control their powers then they should have all the powers a dream demon had - Apportation, Clairvoyance, Cross-Dimensional Awareness, Illusion manipulation, Intangibility, Innate Capability, Nigh Omnipotence, Laser Manipulation,Levitation, Molecular Manipulation, Nightmare Inducement,Possession,Precognition,Pyrokinesis,Size shifting,Telekinesis, Telepathy

Age: Unknown - equivelent to an 8 year old child Twin: non. Origins: Flat Land - Dimension Destroyed - managed to escape. Gender: Agender / non-binary - They/them

is Shy when first meeting new people, not very happy, lonely, misses mother and father, feels insignificant, cant seem to get firm controle of their powers. Their powers are rather violent and combusive. They are also angry at the Multiverse. They are also manipulative.

Weaknesses: Kindness.

Other names: Dill, Dee, Tiny.

Relatives: parents Dead, Siblings dead.

Home: two-dimensional dimension (formerly) - FlatLand, NIGHTMARE REALM, Mindscape

Goal: To Get proper controle of their powers.

Likes: Nice people, Helping others, candy and chocolate, stuffed toys. Things going their way, Nightvale, Roses.

Dislikes: Loud noises, Circles, Unfair treatment of others, deals being broken, things not going their way.

People should be careful around Dilliam.

They may be the most kind demon anyone meets and they may want to help others…

But they’re still a demon.

They may ask for your friendship in exchange for food/never starving, but they will use that to their advantage. They will then ask you to do something - because ‘friends help friends’ and if you say no, they will manipulate you.

They will accuse you of not being a true friend and that will break the deal…

So if you are a starving homeless kid, you will be in danger of loosing your food supply and of going back to stealing… so yeah…

Be careful of the sly purple one.

#muses #update #Ford is my main muse #i love him #i think i am him lol #im actually nicknamed sixer XD #never mind my thing for a dorito #im ace so i dont want to **** the dorito....#i just like him #is it still straight if you like all male no matter if its alien or human or triangle/non-binary?

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mariniacipher · 7 years ago

Text

A NEW CHAPTER! From Meet me in the Woods

So yeah, i finally finished it, who would’ve thought?

The ao3 link is the source, because Tumblr is terrible

Fandom: Gravity Falls

Relationships: Bill Cipher & Dipper Pines, Bill Cipher & Mabel Pines, Dipper Pines &Mabel Pines, Pacifica Northwest & Mabel Pines, Pacifica Northwest/Mabel Pines, Bill Cipher & Original Female Character (Plus all the familial stuff)

Characters: Bill Cipher, Dipper Pines, Mabel Pines, Pacifica Northwest, Grunkle Stan/ Stanley “Stanford” Pines, The Author/ Original Stanford Pines, Tad Strange, Axolotl (Gravity Falls), Jheselbraum the Unswerving, Original Female Character, Minor Characters

Additional Tags: Billdip bromance, Sometime in the future, Triangle Bill Cipher, Human Bill Cipher, but that comes later, muuuuch later, Bill Cipher Redemption, aromantic asexual Bill Cipher, aro ace Bill Cipher, Bill has problems, PTSD Dipper Pines, Poor Dipper, Pansexual Mabel Pines, Older Pines Twins, They're 15, summer 2015, Gravity Falls Is Weird, Post-Gravity Falls, Bill Cipher's Backstory, Powerless Bill Cipher, Axolotl is a jerk, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Past Abuse, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Category: Gen, F/F

Summary.

11th June 2015: A normal day in Gravity Falls (as far as that is even possible) is turned upside down as Dipper finds the dream demon they had defeated three years ago in the woods, powerless and angry. From there on, things only continue to go downhill, as the twins find themselves helping the demon/trying to get him out of their realm as fast as possible, to get back to their normally paranormal summer in Gravity Falls. But of course it couldn't be that easy, we are talking about the Pines here, so why should it be?

Chapter 2:

Bill examined Pine Tree- the human had aged a bit- but still seemed like the pathetic sack of bones he had encountered… Before. He couldn’t be sure how much time had passed since then. But he saw that the meat sack had written his own journal –which was amusing, really. How he thought he could achieve anything in his small human lifespan before his flesh bag would cease functioning and leave him to rot.

-Bill felt how the cells in his body worked, it was foreign and weird and entirely too… alive for him. (Alive meant mortal, mortals die) -

But he wasn’t mortal, he couldn’t be.

He distinctively recognized the path Pine Tree went, had gone it with Sixer’s feet several times as the Brainiac was still as ignorant as a frog in a slowly heating pot. It was slightly bigger now, and he could see traces of feet all over it, but just ten minutes away from the Shack the kid stopped to put him on the ground again.

He looked up as the flesh bag (damn the frilly sack of ruffles, wherever he was), who seemed uncomfortable as he looked around himself. What’s wrong Pines, is your measly human brain failing you? he thought drily. Like the sack of bones knew real thought or knowledge. “Okay, so, I gotta smuggle you up to the attic, but I obviously can’t do that with the cage-“he saw how the kid took in a breath, as if to gather courage. This would be amusing-“so I have to unlock you and hide you in my sweater” he rushed out, the words almost incomprehensible, but Bill understood it anyway and glared up at the flesh sack. The sole audacity… “Kid, do you know who I am? Do you know of the countless dimensions I conquered and the endless knowledge I’ve collected?” he asked, his voice deepening and gaining even more of an echo. At least something was still how it was supposed to be.

The boy gulped, before crossing the arms before his chest and glaring at the demon defiantly. “And now you’re a powerless corn chip and we have an agreement. So, you don’t have much choice in the matter, do you? And believe me, man, I don’t want to do this either” Dipper answered, ignoring the death glare he got. Or trying to, no one needed to know how sweaty his hands got and how dry his throat went.

He took the set for picking locks from his bag that he and Mabel had both gotten to their birthdays last year from Stan (along with some more personalized gifts) and made quick work of the trap. Bill gave him another glare before standing up and gracefully walking out of the trap, annoying the brunet with just how slow the demon moved. It was already late and he wanted to catch Mabel before she went out with one of her friends (the creepy triangle was not sleeping in his room).

But after entirely too much time, he could close the trap again and put away his set to face the triangle demon that stared up at him with a bored expression, raising an eyebrow at him as he fiddled with is jacket and opened it. This would be awkward.

“Ohm, yeah, could you like, climb on my hand so we can get this over with?” he asked and, yup, this was awkward as all hell. He regretted everything that had led him to this moment. But still, Bill gave him an annoyed look but complied, seemingly thinking this was too stupid for him to even comment on. Well, that was a new low in Dipper’s life.

The triangular demon was lifted off the ground, his little fingers biting into Dipper’s flesh (did Bill have freaking claws ?) but the teenager tried to ignore it and arranged Bill underneath his jacket, uncomfortably close to his chest, but even after some rummaging it couldn’t be helped, so he just tried to get over it. (He didn’t)

As Coralline, called Cora by everyone but her father, saw Dipper enter the gift shop, she immediately knew something was up. The brunet, whose ass she might or might not have stared at, if opportunity arose, was obviously even more awkward than usual and looked around himself as if someone was going to attack him every minute, standing there, half hunched in over himself. Cora didn’t know him too well, but she would consider him a friend, so she waved a hand at him after selling some old lady some overpriced merchandise.

The brunet lit up like a traffic light and came over to her. She tried not to cringe at his awkwardness. He might even get the phone numbers of some of the people he flirted with -he was cute enough- if he weren’t so painfully awkward.

“Mabel is leading a tour, she should be back in like, five minutes. Should I tell her that you need her?” she asked, knowing the twins well enough by now to see when they wanted or needed to talk to each other. The brunet nodded gratefully and shot her a small smile, but it didn’t manage to cover his nervousness “Yeah, thanks, tell her I’m at the attic, okay?” he asked, she gave him a thumbs up and one of her bright smiles. “Can do, Dip” she grinned, before facing another customer as Dipper hurried out of the shop and up to his room.

Dipper sacked against the door, his body melting into a puddle as he let himself relax. He quickly opened the zipper to his jacket and let the demon out, to sit him on his desk, doing a quick once-over to see if there was anything the demon could use against him. But everything was safe, he judged carefully. He went over to the window, still suspicious at its form, although it had clear glass now, instead of a literal effigy of Bill fucking Cipher. He looked out, but the tour Mabel led wasn’t there yet.

Patience, Dipper . He brushed some hair out of his face, while trying to plan how he would explain all of this to Mabel. Part of him knew that he would probably forget everything he’d think of as soon as she would walk through the door, but at least it would help him sort his thoughts.

So Bill Cipher was back- that was a nightmare he really didn’t want to face- but he had no powers, which was a relief, because Dipper quite liked his life and would prefer it if he wouldn’t face a premature end by the hands of the triangular demon.

Still, they had to find a way to get him out of their dimension, and to do so as quickly as possible if you asked him. He wondered if there was a spell to banish Bill from humanity in general, even dreams, but doubted it. Even if, Bill would have destroyed such a thing long ago, if he knew anything about the demon.

He considered asking Bill why he was here to begin with, but doubted that the triangle would give him any answers and he should probably wait with the interrogation until Mabel was here, she was better at that stuff anyways. He remembered with a shudder what she had done to some kid that had bullied them. He had never wanted to know that you could use sprinkles and a candy cane like that.

But point remained, she would probably get more out of the demon, if only because he seemed to have liked her better. The thought made him cringe, as well as the memory it awoke, of falling asleep and waking up with ink stained fingers, just having been used as the demon’s puppet again . He had played it down in front of Mabel, who had been enraged that the demon would compare her to the likes of him , but he hadn’t slept for the next two days, and when he did fall asleep it was fitful and filled with nightmares. Even after the unicorn barrier had been set in place his brain had tortured him any minute he fell asleep, with images of what Bill could and would do if he ever chose to. Even as Ford had told him of his backstory of Bill he hadn’t dared to tell him about the incident with the ‘ Guide to Mystery and Non-Stop Fun’ pages.

He shook his head, that was long over, and the demon was powerless now, there was no need to worry, they just had to get him back to his dimension as fast as possible.

As Mabel got to the clearing before the Mystery Shack she stopped and just before the door she turned to the customers, a big grin plastered on her face, akin to one of a shark. “Well, this was the Tour of Terrors, ladies, gentlemen and friends, I hope you enjoyed it and come back again, I was your Ms. Mystery today! Pictures are charged case to case, we offer no refunds for mental or physical injuries and if your wallet mysteriously disappears we have definitely nothing to do with it ” she tacked on out of the corner of her mouth, her grin definitely seeming to be like a shark’s now. She really was Stanley Pines grandniece, and he had trained her well in the art of scamming people the last few years.

Last summer she had gotten to lead some tours with him and he had been enthusiastic at her charm and charisma, as she scammed people out of their money, but this summer she could do her tours alone for the first time.

“Now, please follow me to the gift shop, we’re you’ll be able to buy the unique Mystery Shack Merchandise, which you’ll get nowhere else, except in the Online Shop, which we invite you to try out. Shipping isn’t free and you’re not insured in case someone sells your data to the government or other as, or more, shady organisations ” She told them, as the people already scattered to buy some of the junk on the shelves. Although Mabel had influenced the inventory in the last few years, even having some products of her own making on the shelves, that she all designed herself and whose winnings she and Stan split fifty/fifty (After a very long argument, that had cost Mabel a glue gun and Stan a stapler and Dipper a ton of nerves).

She went to Cora- before she would be overrun with customers Mabel wanted to chat with her. The girl was only a year older than her and Dipper and had quickly gotten herself into Mabel’s group of friends, although they weren’t as close as she was with Candy, Grenda or Wendy, and sure as hell not Paz. She quickly banished the girl from her thoughts, before she would start staring at nothing with a dreamy expression.

“Hey Mabes, tour went good?” Cora asked, in her hands was some manga she read, and Mabel was inclined to ask about it, before she saw the cover, and chose not to. She wasn’t one to read too many horror stories, she left that to Dipper. “Tour went good, I think about changing the route so we can also see the Question Quails, and maybe the Exclamation Parakeets too. I just have to convince Stan” she told the cashier, who nodded along.

Cora had grown up here, so she was used to the town’s weirdness, even liked it. “Yeah, I could help you with that, if you want to slowly get them used to humans. My mum in Portland works at that Smith and Bybee Wetlands Natural Area-thing, so she would probably know whatever you’ll need to have the tourists see them and all.”

“Oh, and your bro came in here like, ten minutes ago? He looked really anxious, I think you should go to him, before he faints or something” she told the brunette who seemed to be alerted as soon as she heard the word ‘anxious’. Mabel knew that Dipper had made tons of progress, but maybe something had caused a relapse? Well, whatever it was, she wouldn’t leave her bro-bro to fight alone!

“Kay, thanks Cora! Can you man the shop while I’m upstairs? Thanks!” she rushed out, before making her way to the attic and bursting inside Dipper’s room. But what she saw was not what she had expected. “Dipper? What happened, why is he back? Why is he even here, I thought he was a mind demon? And we killed him! - We killed you three years ago, what the heck are you doing here?” she shouted.

Of course Dipper would be anxious if Bill was back, in fact, it was a surprise he hadn’t had a panic attack yet. She looked at her brother, asking with a look if he was okay. The brunet gave her a reassuring look back and nodded, before he began to speak. “I found him in the woods, he doesn’t have any powers, so I brought him here, so we could get rid of him before the Stans notice” he explained. “Yeesh kid, don’t be so happy about it” the triangle muttered from his place on the desk. He sat on top of some papers and books that were littered all over his room. Well, it wasn’t like her room looked much better, just much brighter.

She glared at the twelve inch small triangle, before turning to Dipper. “And what should we do? Is there some sort of ritual to get him back to wherever he came from?” she asked. She may not be as scarred as Dipper from what happened, but she was still scared. The triangle had hurt her brother and Grunkle Ford and she didn’t want either of them to be hurt again by the demon. Bill, meanwhile, rolled his eyes. Stupid flesh bags.

“I don’t know Mabel. I thought we could both ask what happened and then we can try to figure it out?” Dipper suggested. Mabel nodded. “Kay, bro-bro” she answered.

Bill’s eye twitched. They did know that he was right there? Or was their brain capacity so ridiculously small that they already forgot?

“Okay, Bill, why are you here again instead of rotting in hell or whatever else you’ve been doing the last three years?” Mabel asked and Dipper gave her a shocked look, but decided not to do anything. He’d let Mabel do her thing, he thought, while taking his notebook and jotting down everything he had until now. Bill glared up at Mabel, while memories tried to resurface, but he stopped them before they could even get close. “Well, I don’t know Shooting Star, how about you tell me first why I should even talk to you?” he asked icily, fixing her with a glare.

Mabel showed herself unshaken, crossing her arms. “You could talk to me because it’s nice , you know?” she snapped. Dipper gave her a deadpan look and Bill rose his eyebrow.

“Yeah, right”

“Have you ever met me, kid?”

Both said simultaneously and Mabel looked at both of them. Bill looked seemed for a moment and Dipper didn’t look much better. Mabel had to hold back a giggle at their expressions. “You could answer so you can get away from us as fast as possible” she suggested, choosing to ignore the silent mortification they both went through. The triangle schooled his expression to one of deadpan and bored, before answering.

“And you don’t think I could get myself back to where I ‘rot in hell’ if I wanted?” he asked, giving her an unimpressed look. Mabel blinked surprised, before catching herself. “So you want to get our help to what? Get you back in the Mindscape?” she asked. Dipper looked at the triangle with suspicion. “Not in the Mindscape, Shooting Star, the Nightmare Realm” Bill corrected arrogantly.

“But you probably won’t do that, so I’d suggest you let me do my thing and we see each other again in your nightmares. Deal?”

“No! I won’t make a deal with you, you’re an evil triangle monster!” “Flattery won’t get you anywhere, kid” “That was not a compliment” Mabel growled, before she had an idea. “Wait, what about this: We’ll help you get back your powers and in return you won’t conquer the world, or this whole universe, like, ever. Deal?” Mabel asked, trying not to show how unsure she was.

Bill gave her a mildly surprised look, but before he could answer Dipper interrupted them. “Mabel, we can’t make a deal, he’ll just somehow twist it so he comes out on top!”

“Well, do you have another idea? Cause the way I see it, that’s the only way to make sure he won’t destroy the world as soon as he gets his powers back, or tries to, anyway” Mabel replied.

“She’s right Pine Tree” Bill smirked. “One of you should make a deal if you want your sweet small world to stay the boring way it is” he sing-songed, as he looked at his fingers (those were definitely claws). “Except you want a second Weirdmageddon? Which I’d be more than glad to make happen, although you probably wouldn’t live long enough to see it unfold” Bill grinned, enjoying the opportunity to gain the upper hand again.

“We sure as fuck don’t! Listen you freaky triangle, I’ll make a deal with you and then we’ll get you back to wherever you came from and you let this whole freaking universe alone!” Mabel exclaimed. Dipper gave her a concerned look, before resigning to her choice. She was already too convinced of her plan to stop her, the only thing he could do was help her not to make a giant mistake.

“Can you even make deals like that?” he asked, to make sure that they even could do this, silently begging whatever entity watched over them that he couldn’t. “I can… with some… help” the demon gritted out. He was able to destroy supernovas with a snap of his fingers, could watch millions and trillions of places at the same time, but now he needed help to just make a deal . The Axolotl would pay for that, he’d make sure of it.

“But you can?”

“What did I just say? Are you that stupid, Pine Tree?” Bill snapped, before Mabel interrupted them again.

“Hey, guys, I know we all hate each other, but we gotta get this over with before we kill each other. So, Bill: I offer you that I and Dipper restore your power to the best of our ability, without any serious harm befalling anyone, no matter whom, if you will never attempt to conquer, destroy or otherwise harm this universe ever again, in your whole existence and whatever comes after. You agree?” she asked. Bill looked at her, scanning the deal for any loopholes he could use, but there were surprisingly few. The girl had learned from Fez, no doubt.

He looked at her outstretched hand, he didn’t want to give this realm up, he had sacrificed a trillion of years to get it, but he needed his powers back and one small universe wasn’t that big a cost. And he could always just take another version of this universe, could even kill the Pines family of that version. So, in the end, it seemed like a good enough deal, he had to begrudgingly admit.

“Deal, Shooting Star.”

#gravity falls #gf #bill cipher #dipper pines #Mabel and Dipper #trans dipper #dipper and bill #mabel and bill #mabel and pacifica #mabcifica #in later chapters #no billdip #billdip bromance #tad strange #canon compliant #kill me #i hate everything #why am i like this #please read

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