#of course this is all IF ford would bother with such things

[godsfavoritescientist]

Building off of what I wrote in my fic "Sparks," I'm really compelled by the idea of Ford genuinely no longer being interested in sailing around in a boat with Stan by the time they were seniors in high school.

I like the idea of it not being just a symptom of the resentment that had been building between them, nor it being a dream of Ford's that only paled in comparison to west coast tech, but it being a genuine loss of interest on Ford's end. I think it complicates things even further in some really juicy ways.

Like, imagine going through high school slowly losing more and more interest in the dream you've shared with your twin and only friend ever since you were little kids. How do you break it to him? How do you explain it to him without making it sound like a rejection of him? Without it making him hate you?

How do you explain it without it feeling like a spit in the face to all the hard work he's put into a plan that started out as a way of him comforting you by telling you "it doesn't matter what people say about you, you're going to be an adventurer who sails away into the sunset and never has to hear their mockery ever again, and there will be babes and treasure and heroism, and then they'll all see how cool you really are!"

And all through high school you think to yourself, "he's going to move on to more realistic dreams any day now, and then I won't have to say anything about it!" But no matter how many times you mention something else he could do with his life that he seems interested in, or bring up the challenging logistics of traveling around long-term in a boat, he sounds just as committed to the childhood dream as ever, and completely oblivious to how apprehensive you sound.

So resentment grows, little by little. Because that's easier than confronting the soul-crushing levels of guilt that are building up inside of you, every time you don't take an opportunity to tell him you don't want to do the plan anymore. You don't have a single person in your life who modeled how to have difficult conversations for you. As far as you know, having this conversation with Stan would crush him into tiny little pieces and then he would hate you forever, and you can't stand the idea of losing the only friend you've ever had.

So tensions grow. A lack of interest turns into a bitter resentment that, if you were really being honest with yourself, is directed more at yourself than it is at Stan.

And then the falling-out happens, and it seems like you were proven right. Stan hates you now, and he's never going to forgive you for giving up on his dream. But two can play that game, so you try to hate him too. Because if you hate him too, then maybe it won't hurt as much that he never came back. That he never even turned up at school, or by the boat, or in through your bedroom window in the middle of the night. He knows what dad's like, and how he says impulsive exaggerated things when he's angry, and haven't you both dealt with his harsh words countless times before and been able to dust yourselves off and joke about it later? So why isn't he back at home, joking with you about how absurd your dad acted that night, being impossible and belligerent about ruining your dream, but at least now you're even, because you've ruined his dream too.

-

And now imagine you find out he risked the lives of everyone in existence to bring you back, right after you had accepted your fate was to die killing Bill. It would be terrifying and confusing and infuriating. If he cared so much, why didn't he do something to reconnect with you sooner? Why did he ignore you in favor of trying to make it big without you? Why didn't he take the infinitely safer and simpler action of reaching out to you without you having to track down his address and send a desperate plea for help? You were convinced that he didn't care enough to bother with you unless you had an important enough reason for him to come. But even then, he thought your plans were stupid. He didn't want anything to do with you, not even with the world at stake.

Did he save your life out of guilt? Does he pity you that much? It doesn't add up with what he did in the decade leading up to shoving you into the portal. And the dissonance between the version of him in your head that hates you, and the man who held out his arms to welcome you back to your home dimension, is so strong that you feel like you're being lied to again, like you're back in the depths of gaslighting and manipulation that Bill put you through, even though there's no way that's what Stan is trying to do... right? You can't figure it out, so you run away from it. You don't want to know the answer to whether or not Stan hates you, because you don't know which answer would hurt more, so you try to make him hate you more than ever, because at least then you would know for sure how he feels.

And in the end, after he sacrifices his memories for you, and for the world, things seem clearer. The layers upon layers of confusion and anger and hurt seem to have washed away like drawings in the sand, leaving behind the simple truth: that you two had an argument, and didn't move past it for forty years, and despite everything you put each other through, you both still want to re-connect.

So you sail away in a boat together.

And at first, it's wonderful. It's exactly what you want. It feels like an apology to Stan, and a thank-you for saving the world, and a once-in-a-lifetime chance to heal the rift between you two, and it's good to be back on earth, and you wonder why you ever doubted the dream you two once had.

But then, after the first long journey you spend on the sea together, when you get back home to dry land, Stan is already talking about planning your next adventure out on the open sea. He recaps every adventure you had on the first trip, over and over again, and he wants to chat with you all through the morning and long into the night, and you don't have the words to explain to yourself that you don't have enough social battery for this, and suddenly you're slipping back into the horrifyingly familiar feeling of Stan being overbearing and needing space from him and how could you think that? How could you think that about him after everything he's done for you and everything he's forgiven you for? But the longer this goes on, the more you realize that you still don't want to spend the rest of your life sailing around with Stan. It's great fun in moderation, but the idea of your whole life revolving around Stan and going on adventures with Stan and being in a boat with Stan with no time to be by yourself thinking about your own things and figuring out your own dreams makes your skin crawl with a claustrophobic kind of panic that you still don't know how to put into words forty years after the first time this feeling grabbed you by the throat and ruined your friendship with Stanley.

But the first time this happened, it nearly ruined his life forever. You can't let yourself feel this. You don't feel this. You're happy to spend the rest of your life fulfilling Stan's lifelong dream, and making up for the time you crushed his dream, and sure, maybe he crushed your dream once too, and maybe it would be nice for him to support your dreams like you're now doing for him, but you can't say that. He saved the universe, and it would be horrible and ungrateful and cruel for you to try to voice these feelings, especially when you don't know how to voice your feelings without it making other people feel like you twisted a knife into their gut. So you try to pretend the feeling isn't there.

You go out on a boat with Stan again. You planned out another incredible journey together, and this should be fun, and you should be happy about this, but the unspoken feeling you shoved as far down in yourself as it could possibly go is eating you alive. The worst part? Stan is starting to notice. You have never been good at hiding your emotions. The trick to it has always been to convince yourself you don't feel it at all, and not think about it, and that has always worked like a charm. But whenever the emotion claws its way back up to the forefront of your mind, you can tell Stan knows something is wrong. So you can't even give him the happy ending he deserves. You can't even convince him that you want to be here on the open seas forever with him, like he deserves. And you keep trying and trying to hide it, but Stan keeps asking in roundabout ways, like "You're being awfully quiet, sixer," and "whats that look on your face?" and eventually it comes exploding out of you like a shaken-up soda bottle dropped on its cap.

And then it's like you're back at home in New Jersey again, standing in the living room while dad grabs Stanley by the shirt. It all comes pouring out of you, in the worst possible way, with the worst possible phrasing, like a pandora's box of monstrousness, and Stan tries to fight back against the sting of your words, but you're made out of acid and you're burning through him and you can see it on his face, and there's never any coming back from this, not this time, you'll just have to either jump into the ocean or become a monster forever, so Stan can hate you more easily again, and-

-and at the end of the outburst, you're still on a boat in the middle of nowhere in the ocean with your brother, in dangerous waters, and you have things to do to keep the boat running smoothly.

You can't run away from him. He can't run away from you. You're stuck here for at least a couple more weeks, even if you turned around and sailed back towards shore right away.

-

And the thing that compels me so much here, despite how unbelievably angsty it all is, is that it sets up a situation wherein the Stans might end up forced to actually address the decades of resentment and confusion and wanting-to-reconnect-throughout-it-all that they thought they could gloss over and heal with enough time spent adventuring together on a boat. They might end up forced to actually address the crux of the issue that drove them apart in the first place: Ford wanting a little more space to feel like his own person, and to feel like he's able to have his own dreams, too.

It wouldn't happen easily, nor right away, but if they were stuck together on a little boat in the middle of nowhere surrounded by magical creatures they have to protect each other from in order to make it back home alive, then after they had one fight where they brought up all the things they silently agreed to never bring up again, it would probably happen many more times, and each time it would leave them both angrier at each other than ever, until eventually something honest slipped through amidst all the saying-anything-except-what-they-mean bickering. And once enough of these honest moments slipped through, then they would have a thread to tug on to start to unravel the gargantuan knot of their decades of unresolved conflicts.

And then, eventually, maybe Stan could learn that he can have a good friendship with his brother without needing to be glued to him at the hip, and Ford needing a certain amount of alone time doesn't mean he dislikes him or wants to abandon him, and Ford could learn that he can be honest and have a meaningful connection with someone without it driving them away and making them hate him.

[1spooky2me]

I wrote a thing based on the scrunchie comic, I typed this up on my phone I hope it fits in an ask omg:

“I need him…”

“…?” Bill turned slowly, and Ford realized with horror the words had slipped from his mind out of his mouth.

“Who said that,” the men chorus in unison. Ford blinks, fire and sweat on his face, as Bill sports a shit eating grin.

“Oh, well *hello,* Sixer,” the once(?) demon drawls, and Ford quickly tears his gaze from Bill’s neck. “You *like* this?” Raising a greyish hand to the nape of his own neck, Bill’s grin increases appraisingly as Ford flushed further, blush darkening his ears. Cute!

“I-“

“-Don’t bother lying, you’re terrible at it.” Cutting off Ford’s defiant tone, Bill slinks closer to the slightly slumping man, who stiffens at his approach.

Now in the same small block of space, Bill stares unafraid up into Ford’s narrowed eyes. They shine like constellations, teeming with mysteries Bill wished he still had the power to pluck from his mind. …However, knew he had a power over the man, yet. Time for testing; reaching for one of those large six fingered hands, Bill grasps and pulls it, allowing Ford access to the bared back of his neck. Much to Bill’s delight, Ford’s breath hitches.

“…Really?” Ford won’t meet Bill’s eyes at the question, but he’s not moving his hand away, either. “Sixer~ look at me.” This has the opposite to desired effect, as Ford’s gaze stays stubbornly fixed on the wall. “Ford.” Finally, the man’s surprised eyes widen and he leans down just close enough-

-For Bill to grab his face and kiss him. Ford freezes for but a moment before -yes!- kissing Bill back. Kissing as a human was *different,* and Ford was a better kisser than he knew. Not that Bill would tell him. He’d just enjoy their little secret, as alway- Bill’s blurring thoughts are interrupted by a quiet gasp. He opens his eye to see a blur of Mabel- as Ford breaks their kiss, grabs Bill by the collar, and yanks him into the next room, slamming the door.

“…Oops?” Bill offers, wincing at the pressure of his shirt near his Adam’s apple -human bodies were inconvenient, after all - and Ford drops him, expression pained.

“You can’t- don’t kiss me in front of- *other people,* he whisper-screeches, face red as his sweater, and Bill’s smile drops entirely.

“Right.”

“…Bill?”

It makes sense. It makes Ford would be ashamed of him- of them. Bill isn’t expecting the hand on his shoulder, turning him briskly back around as he tries to walk away. He wasn’t expecting the look on Sixer’s face. He wasn’t expecting another quick, but passionate, kiss.

“It’s not that,” Ford sighs, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand as Bill’s shoulder’s tense.

“*You* didn’t gain mind reading powers, did you?!” The shrill question is met with a low chuckle.

“Of course not. You’re more expressive, now.” Bill vehemently utters a word that would not have gone past Disney’s sensors, and Ford’s lips tilt up at the corners, before he frowns seriously.

“Bill…it hasn’t been shame. Not for…awhile, now.” Bill’s eye widens comically, and Ford smiles, running his fingers over the exposed nape of Bill’s neck, enjoying the shorter man’s shiver. Then he sighs. “Just…don’t kiss me in front of Mabel. Or Dipper.” Bill’s smile returns, as he extends a hand.

“…It’s a deal.”

GIGGLING, TWIRLING MY HAIR, KICKING MY FEET. AHHHHHHHH💖💖💖

[gay-dorito-dust]

Imagine Bill/Stanford x a clumsy reader who is constantly getting injured or stumbling and bumping into something.

Going on a long hike? Reader falls and busts their fuckin knee. Walking by the fridge after grabbing a snack? Slips over a puddle of water and breaks their wrist.

I'm genuinely curious as to how they would respond separately, constantly having to deal with reader's shit.

Love your content, by the way. Keep up the good work! :D 💗

Bill cipher

Finds it funny, after all pain is hilarious to him but it’s made even more funnier if someone else is doing it to themselves.

Don’t expect him to help you in any way shape or form, he’s like one of those friends who’ll laugh as you fall down the stairs before ever thinking of helping you back up.

But in this instance he just leaves you in pain and gets all bothered when you’re all healed up again, claiming that you’re not as fun as you are when you’re injured. So I’d watch your step for the next couple of days for banana peels or anything that could cause you physical harm.

You’re his very own version of you’ve been framed with how often you managed to end up hurting yourself over near enough everything, so much so that he just develops a sixth sense when you’re about to hurt yourself and appears just in time to whiteness it with some deer teeth.

Needless to say Bill will find your sprained ankles, busted kneecaps and broken arms hilarious and might even record his favourite ones to look back on when he’s bored to reminisce over the good times. (I don’t know what else you expect of me for him. It’s bill cipher, he’s the least helpful dude in existence)

Stanford Pines

Poor guy had gotten more and more grey hairs because of how accident prone you are. He would like you very much in one piece thank you very much.

Also he’s got good reflexes for a man of his age and would most likely be able to catch you by the arm or the waist before you even fall or trip while asking if you were okay with the most concerned look upon his face.

He’ll gladly let you use him as crutch when you’ve tripped and busted your knee or sprained your ankle, anything that he could do to make sure that you were in less pain then you already were, Ford will do it in a heartbeat in hopes that he’d never have to do this again. Only to later come to terms that he was with the most clumsiest person in all of Gravity Falls, and that he would be used as your personal crutch constantly.

After a couple more accidents and Ford is already carrying a makeshift first aid kit and had done intensive research on all he needed to deal with things like bruises, cuts and sprains just for you. However he’ll always try to move you away from any and all potential hazards, only for him to look back at you to see that you’ve somehow managed to trip on thin air and bruise your chin.

You’re lucky this man loves you dearly because you had proven yourself to be a handful at some cases, but Ford knew it wasn’t your fault and would never make it out to be your fault in the slightest. And yet the temptation to baby proof everything -especially the lab- was strong within him, but would rather keep an eye on you himself to make sure you somehow didn’t hurt yourself on the corner of a table or counter.

He only knew you would because you did bump into the corner of a table once and tried to hide it from him, but he knew you better then most and immediately gets an ice pack for your bruise. At this point you being accident prone was about as normal as waking up to being covered in Mabel’s stickers or almost tripping over Waddles because he was sleeping nearby.

Yes you once tripped over waddles because he was sleeping near your bed once, did you hurt yourself? Obviously. Did Ford have to take care of you? Of course he did but he didn’t mind taking care of you now and then as you did the exact same whenever he got himself hurt. You weren’t aloud in certain places without Ford because there was too much where you could hurt yourself on, that and Ford didn’t feel like having a heart attack every five seconds you came even remotely close to injuring yourself. Again.

He kisses your bruises and cuts. Fight me I’m in a soft mood.

[tinfoil-jones]

Jerk Ford AU: The Love Pendant

Mabel this time around hadn’t just taken the love potions from the Love God- he saw that although misguided, her love for other people and desire to make sure everyone was loved was genuine, so he gave her a gift in the form of a "Love Pendant".

It did look a little tacky, a clunky heart carved out of what could be crystal or glass, it was hard to tell, and on a thin gold chain long enough that it could be looped over anyone's head and onto the neck, no clasps needed.

If you placed the love pendant on someone, it would glow in a specific colour and intensity based on how the recipient felt about the bestower. As explained below;

Red: Romantic

Blue: Self (if placed on self)

Green: Friendship

Gold: Family

White: Apathy (Anti-Love)

Black: Hatred

The intensity of the glow shows how strong that love is: the light will be dim if there isn’t a lot or if its weak/flimsy, but the light will be brighter and more intense if there is a lot of that love, and/or if its a very strong love that won’t waver. 

Mabel tests it out by first placing it on Soos, who is her cousin and also frequent companion to her and Dipper- the pendant glows a strong green, with intense flickers of gold, reminding her of holiday trees.

She then tries it on Grunkle Stan - the opposite of Soos, it glows gold with flecks of green, reminding her of holiday lights.

And of course, her brother Dipper - she’s not surprised, but absolutely delighted nonetheless, to see that it swirls in equal parts gold and green, glowing so bright it almost hurts her eyes. And when he puts the pendant on her? Exactly the same.

Then "The Author of the Journals" her Grunkles brother, stumbles out of the interdimensional portal they had no idea was in the basement they also didn't know about. And he's an unrepentant jerk.

Grunkle Stan kept trying to tell both of them that he swore up and down that Great Uncle Ford loved them, he really did, but he's always had a hard time showing people love, even saying it was a Herculean task for him.

Dipper vehemently refused to believe it. Of course he did, once he decided how he felt about someone or something it wasn’t easy to make him change his mind. And Great Uncle Ford wrote those Journals that Dipper hated because of how contradictory and unhelpful they were, and he’d spent the majority of the summer trying to correct them with proper observations.

Mabel? She didn’t appreciate Fords abrasiveness any more than anyone else, but… was there really something else there? She knew her Grunkle Stan was a nice and loving guy and all, but would he really dedicate thirty whole years of his life trying to bring back someone who was only a jerk?

He’d decided to take his grudge into his own hands, and has been actively ambushing their Great Uncle Ford with sports equipment, home decor, and even his bare hands, ever since. Not that it seems bother said Great Uncle very much, because he’s made of surprisingly strong stuff, and he’s waved off all of Dippers attempts at violence. 

One afternoon Mabel catches him dead asleep on the couch again.

Grunkle Stan told her and Dipper that his brother didn’t get as much sleep as he should of during the thirty years he was gone- he was in dangerous places a lot and there were things that could hurt you if you weren’t vigilant enough, and that’s why Ford slept so much now that he was back. As long as you didn’t get too close to him, it was almost impossible to wake him up once he was down.

Mabel considers putting the Love Pendant on him - the recipient didn't need to be conscious, because it connected to feelings and not conscious thoughts.

Then she remembers last time he passed out on the couch Dipper tried hitting him with a wiffleball bat. Even unconscious, Ford caught the bat before it could hit him, and tossed it across the living room with enough force to go straight through a window. And it was a plastic bat.

Grunkle Stan's brother maybe should have told his family that he's fallen asleep in active war zones before, and had still managed to defend himself. Now there's a broken window.

Okay... so maybe putting the pendant on him could wait.

[pinespinespinespinespines]

UM what if... Fidds met Stan during the college years when he comes to apologize to Ford. Like-

Like hear me out-

At some point while Ford is at Backupsmore and Stan had been running around the country for a couple years, (lets say 4ish yrs after Stan is kicked out?) Stan attempts to apologize to him by visiting his dorms. Ford ignores him/ calls security on him until Stan is just loitering out by the entrance with his car.

Seeing all this, Ford's kindhearted roommate Fiddleford tries to coax his friend into giving his brother a chance, to which Ford stubbornly refuses. Exasperated and pitying Stan, after a few days of this, Fiddleford approaches his roommate's twin himself.

Stan is of course not a pretty picture since he's been living out of his car, and when he sees Fiddleford he assumes it's to shoo him away. When Fiddleford instead introduces himself and apologizes for Ford, a confused Stan begins to ask questions that he would be asking his brother: how he's been, what he's studying, is he any better with girls?

After a while of this, Fiddleford begins to feel guilty about having a conversation that really should be with Ford himself, not him. He tells Stan this, and promises to find a way to convince Ford to speak to him again at least once. Stan agrees to stay in town until that happens.

Ford isnt happy when Fiddle tells him he talked to Stan. Hes a petty sore loser so hes still adamant about not seeing his brother, and grows more upset as Fiddleford sees Stan every couple days to chat/update. Without cellphones, Stan just comes by whenever and hangs out until Fiddle spots him.

Fiddleford thinks Stanley wanting to reunite with Ford endearing. He also finds Stan's, let's be honest, meat-headed suave, to be a refreshing change of pace from his roommate's constant obsession over formulas and theories.

Besides having a friend of Ford's on his side, Stan is just thrilled to have someone who listens to him and doesn't mind his company. Fiddleford even trims Stan's hair for him one time, and other little things that he sees as simple decent favors for a nice guy down on his luck, but Stan sees as the most generous things a guy's ever done for him. He's starting to feel indebted to Fiddleford, and he's not sure what to do about it other than give up on Ford and drive off so that he isn't bothering them anymore.

When Fiddleford buys some extra groceries a few days later and gives them to Stan, the poor guy has a near-panic about being a burden later that night. On a whim, because he's freaking out and that's how Stan operates, he flees the town.

A month passes before Stan feels stupid and returns to the college. He still wants to see Ford- he'll just turn down all of Fidd's kind gestures this time. Stan pulls up outside the dorms and parks, falling asleep in the driver's seat until a banging at his window startles him awake.

Fiddleford, pounding on his car window, looking mad. Uh oh. Stanley gets out of the car, expecting a well-deserved punch to the face for accepting those groceries and bailing without warning. Instead, Fidds shakes his shoulders while rambling with exasperation.

"I was THIS close to gettin' him to talk to ya, ya know that? What were you thinkin', runnin' off without a daggum word to me, makin' me think somethin' bad happ'nd- what was I s'posta tell yer brother, huh?" Etc etc while Stanley just stares blankly and let's himself get shaken for 3 minutes straight while Fiddle scolds him.

The whole time, Stan is wondering why the hell this guy is worrying over him. He's distracted when fidds tells him that Ford too was worried. Is this progress with his twin? Or did he ruin it all with his fleeing stunt?

-

UHHH God I typed so much. Much more than i thought. Idk maybe I'll have more brainrot to continue this later??

[curlyhairedsimp]

I think about this show a lot. I think about Ford a lot and his thoughts. Why he chose to do things the way he did. Now I’m not trying to place blame but it will sound like it. Ford factually without a doubt fucked up cause he thought that he was supposed to be the man to turn to for these things. He is supposed to tell you if it’s dangerous. He just didn’t account for this other being actually being able to outsmart him.

Bill in the beginning was trying to figure Ford out. I’m sure that he wasn’t quite sure where he stood but Bill doesn’t get attached for no reason. He saw what Ford could become with his selfishness and thought with how far Ford was willing to take it this would be okay too.

Ford isn’t an idiot and he knew what he was building. This part is more of a head canon than anything but in his journals the progression of the books doesn’t really show that Ford slowly feels suspicious of Bill. It’s like one page to the next and that’s why I think bill just laid it out for him. He tried to get ahead of Ford figuring out he was actually lying to him and so he told him. He could bring the weird here and Ford was mortified probably. He was given access to things most people can’t even dream of. It’s why I know it’s his hubris considering more that more than anything that the most important thing to him was preserving his research from being destroyed even when he’s trying to fix everything.

So when Stan calls him selfish in the basement and he gets mad at Stan. It’s because of all people he didn’t want to hear it from one person and it was Stan. Cause to him the most selfish person in the world is right in front of him. Not even realizing that Stan wasn’t wrong to call him that. He almost damned the world for trusting an anomaly and instead of just letting Stan destroy the book. He fights him for it cause he respects his own work too much to destroy it. When it could kill so many people and it was just the best course of action at the time. Regardless of why it was being done.

Ford never unlearned those selfish tendencies cause that’s just how consuming his work is. I think in this sense Ford is a lot like Mabel except Ford doesn’t get hate like Mabel does. Even though Mabel actually goes out of her way to acknowledge her selfishness. Also Mabel is 12 and Ford is like 60. And was like practically 30 making all the mistakes he did.

In terms of emotions/values Ford and Mabel are very similar even if they don’t enjoy the same things. Like the unicorn hair incident. That wouldn’t have bothered Stan or Dipper nearly as much as Mabel or Stanford. Cause they strive to be those things and more so it hurts when someone says otherwise.

In conclusion Ford needed fucking therapy yesterday and Stan deserves hugs.

[another-dumb-user]

I think about Same Coin way too much.

Especially as a Ford-centric concept.

Like, Ford has not seen or interacted with his brother for over thirty years (save for the portal incident). Even building up to Weirdmageddon, they barely talked. Ford has only the memories of his brother from childhood. He doesn't really know him.

I just imagine that afterwards, as he starts to get to know his brother, things very slowly fall into perspective. Stan will say something or do something that makes him do a double take. And at first he thinks he's just being paranoid. That, because of his trauma, he's seeing Bill everywhere.

But it just keeps happening.

And maybe he thinks that there's something left of Bill inside Stan's head. Something left behind that's causing this, but (to his horror and intense denial) he comes to realize Stan's always been like this. His personality and Bill's have always been eerily similar. He just wasn't there to make the comparison before.

As Ford is grappling (and failing) to understand what it all means, Stan honestly couldn't give two shits. He's just there. Chilling.

I mean, of course he cares that his brother is apparently having some kind of dilemma, but he knows that he's his own person. That Bill is dead and not in his head.

Ford's just traumatized and paranoid.

Eventually, of course, everyone finds out that Bill was Stan's past life and Ford loses his ever loving mind.

I don't think anyone else will react nearly as strongly as Ford. Dipper might get up there, but he might focus in on the whole "reincarnation is real," "if souls are just recycled, what does that mean for individual people," existential parts of the situation. It would bother him a bit that "technically " Bill and Stan are kinda, in a way, the same, but he knows his uncle and knows he isn't Bill.

Mabel is just like, cool, wonder what I was in my past life.

And Stan literally couldn't care less. His mom did past life readings back in the day and that stuff is nonsense to make people feel better about being a nobody in this life. And now that he knows it's real? Doesn't change his opinion. He knows who he is now and that last life mumbojumbo is as important to his self view as his astrology sign. Which is to say, not important in the slightest.

But Ford. Ford's whole world is shattered. He's going to go through it. Every negative emotion known to man is flashing at the same time in this poor man's brain and everyone else just doesn't seem to care!?!?

Having to grapple with finding out just why Stan reminded him so much of Bill. About how he views his brother in the light of this knowledge. Grief and anger and fear and confusion. Emotions that I think will take him a long while to overcome (with the help of his family of course!).

I just love Ford-centric Same Coin, cause, at the end of the day, I really don't think Stan would care too much. It's Ford whose response is the most interesting to me.

[rolanslide]

Thinking about how Stanley was told his entire young life that he would amount to nothing, and that he was stupid and useless and a troublemaker. Ford being accepted into West Coast Tech is probably the worst thing that could've happened to Stan in that moment- because it all but confirms everything he's spent his whole life fearing; Stanford is a genius who will go on to do great things, and he can't afford to waste his time spending it with an idiot like Stanley. Ford may care about him, but no amount of love and care in the world could make Stan something worth caring for. Being Fords "other half" is the only reason anyone bothered to keep him around, so how could he ever feel safe or loved if Ford leaves? Of course he spirals, of course he starts acting selfishly, in his teenage mind, he's about to lose everything. Of course he's an incredibly selfless person at the end of the day, his sense of self has been broken his entire goddamn life. God. Goddd

[misteria247]

It Started with Coffee

Stanley Pines wasn't the type to believe in love. For him love had happened once, and that had ended up with him nearly losing his car to a woman he thought had felt the same. So for a very long time, he carried on. Focusing on what was important to him, rebuilding the portal to get Ford back and taking care of Mabel and Dipper as well as Soos and Wendy. And he was content. Until one day, he wasn't. And it was because of one man in particular who threw a wrench into everything.

Fiddleford H. Mcgucket.

Fiddleford for the longest time, to Stan was nothing more than old man Mcgucket. The town crazy hick who lived with the raccoons and who tried to talk to him on occasion in his half sane ramblings. Then Weirdmageddon happened and suddenly Fiddleford was around more often than not. And with that, came the recovering inventor's attempts to talk to him. At first Stan didn't try to respond back, not wanting to entertain the hillbilly because he was missing his twin. It worked for awhile until one day when the stubborn old coot crossed the line. It was morning and Stanley along with the kids and his brother had decided to go to Greasy's to get breakfast. Along the way they'd run into Fiddleford and Ford of course invited him along as well as the kids. Stanley didn't protest, not wanting to ruin their excitement. It was when they'd been seated and were getting ready to order that it happened.

Ford had begun to list off their orders, and accidentally messed up Stan's. The younger twin was going to leave it be. Not wanting to bother his brother with something so trivial when the skinny bean pole from beside Stanford spoke up.

"Ah wait! Stanferd you messed up Stanley's order, he takes his coffee with 3 sugars. He likes sweet things."

Fiddleford was met with a wide eyed stare from his best friend. Mabel and Dipper were also staring, jaws open in awe. Stanley meanwhile just looked at the genius, dumbfounded.

'How in the hell did he notice that? It's not like I broadcast it to the whole world.'

The con man thought, puzzled and annoyed that he couldn't put said puzzle together. Once the shock wore off, the group of five slowly again resumed conversation. But all the while Stan's gaze continued to flicker towards Fiddleford. Confused and wanting answers. It was when their meals and coffee were finished and Dipper awkwardly and shyly said goodbye to the waitress. (Pacifica he believed her name was). That he finally got the chance to somewhat corner the other man. He walked slower to match Fiddleford's pace, letting the kids and Ford walk further ahead of the two of them. And once far enough Stanley finally looked at him.

"How did you know?"

Stanley's question seemed to catch Fiddleford off guard. Hazel green eyes behind glasses snapping to meet dark brown. Fiddleford opened his mouth to respond before closing it again, looking suddenly sheepish and embarrassed.

"Ah well, I uh developed a habit of sorts. Whenever I have a right old time trying to remember people who are important to me. I'll start watching em and making mental notes about em...."

The country hick rambled, looking nervous and uneasy. Stanley just stared, stunned. Fiddleford had thought he was important enough to remember details about him. And not just details anyone would know, but details miniscule enough to be overlooked.

"Yer implying I'm important enough to remember?"

The con man asked, unable to stop the disbelief. The other man looked at him again, eyes wide with his own disbelief.

"Yes?? I reckon so?? Why wouldn't I?? You're important just as much as everyone else."

Fiddleford said suddenly firm in the statement. Stanley just stared, expression unreadable for a beat before seeming to come to a conclusion.

"Heh, whatever you say Mcgucket. If you're gonna be doing that, then I'm gonna have to start doing it too. Can't have just me being important."

Fiddleford's eyes flashed with something in that moment before a grin came on his face.

"Alrighty then."

Stanley didn't believe in love. Didn't believe in the word nor what people said about it. But......maybe he can learn. Especially if this man was willing to stick around. Perhaps, there was such a thing. If Fiddleford continued to throw that wrench, then maybe Stanley could come around to believing it.

[matcha-milkies]

MARRIED LIFE

Summary: Bill Cipher gets everything he ever wanted, including (especially) a “marriage” to his favorite human. Ford and Stan disagree about where to go from here.

Relationships: Bill Cipher/Ford Pines

Content Warnings: Forced Marriage, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, (Forced) Alcohol Use

Tags: Triangle Bill, Canon Divergence - Weirdmageddon, Bill Cipher Wins, Collars

Word Count: 1,556

Link to AO3: Here

A/N: I don’t know yet whether I’ll post a second chapter. Perhaps! These gay little cartoon characters sure are fun to write.

Ford looked out over the sprawling destruction that was Gravity Falls. One arm crossed over his abdomen, in the other he nursed a cocktail glass topped off with swirling golden liquid. Bill was none too pleased if he came back and there was ever any left, but Ford could only stand so much of the stuff in one gulp. Besides, if he drank too quickly, the toll on his body was nothing to scoff at. He still had no idea what was even in it. Every time he had asked, Bill’s eye had simply creased in silent amusement, or else he had gone on talking like the man had never said anything.

Little fires dotted the landscape all over. Well, they weren’t so little, were they? Ford always made himself sick with these viewing sessions, but it was the only stimulating thing to do around here, aside from pinging out notes on the piano. And besides, why should he be spared from all the misery? If he was sheltered from it, up in his obsidian tower, the very least he could do was feel bad about it. He took another sip from his glass and grimaced. Great Scott, that was disgusting.

“Sixer?” The name sent unpleasant ripples across Ford’s nerves, but when he turned and saw his twin’s face, he let himself relax. A little.

“Stanley, you’re alright.”

“I better be. That was part of the deal and all…” Stan dusted off the sleeves of his suit, looking around. “Wouldn’t want you, uh… suffering for nothing.” His eyes traveled from the painting over the fireplace and then to the lavish, dark red robe Ford had cinched around his waist.

“Bill had a different flavor of suffering in mind for me.” As if to punctuate that statement, he tilted back his drink and nearly coughed it up again.

“Yeesh.”

“It tastes like bitter defeat,” Ford explained. He saw the face his brother was making. “I’m not being poetic, Stanley. He somehow made it taste like the actual poignant sting of failure. I would offer you to try some if I didn’t think it was slowly poisoning me.”

“Yeah, pass on that one. Why don’t you just dump it out in the sink? You do have a sink in here, don’t you?”

“Ah, yes, of course, why didn’t I think of that?” Ford’s expression softened, and he sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be snippy. It’s just… He would know. By the time I’m to the bottom of one of these, I’m… different. For quite some time.”

Stan seemed to be snapping these pieces together in his head, the drink, the robe, the golden “wedding band” around Ford’s throat. Clearly, it was forming a picture he didn’t like. “Okay, so what’s the plan?”

Ford eyed him and then let his gaze drop.

“Poindexter? You’ve been thinkin’ up a plan, right?”

“Of course I have! Every second of every hour, and I just keep hitting dead ends. He’s virtually omnipotent. I’m bound by contract to him, and even me thinking of ways to get out of it could give him a reason to renege on his end of the deal and hurt you! Or worse, the kids!”

“So that’s just it?! We lie down and roll over?!”

“I-I don’t know, Stanley. I’m mated.” Off his brother’s look, he added, “That’s a chess term.”

“I-I know it is! But could you not use it next time?”

Ford sank down onto the flesh couch. He hated that it hardly bothered him anymore. “Maybe this is it. Maybe… I’m meant to accept this fate, as punishment for—”

“Stop! Stop that! Do you hear yourself?” Stan strode forward until he was in his brother’s face. “You’re this pathetic? You hand the universe over to Bill Cipher on a silver platter and then give up?! You’re probably the only one smart enough to think up a way out of this mess, so how about less wallowing and more scheming?! Who cares what happens to me?!”

Ford screwed his eyes shut as he was berated. “I do! What kind of idiotic question is that?”

“And the kids, you want them to grow up in a world where Bill Cipher is king?!”

“Of course not, but you don’t know the things he’d do to them if I acted out, Stan! He’s not going to spare them because they’re children! He will torture them!”

Stan smacked the glass out of Ford’s hand. It shattered on the floor. Ford gaped. “Stan, you shouldn’t have—”

“I don’t care what he thinks! Neither should you!”

“Stop framing it like I’m on his side!”

“Aren’t you, now?!”

“I’m only trying to be pragmatic about our options! And thank God I am, or who knows where we’d all be right now?!”

Ford froze then, his muscles tensing at a familiar presence in the room.

“YIKES. Who knew the family reunion would get this VOLATILE?” Bill circled them with glee, his eye trained on them all the while. “HEY, I guess I’m part of the family now too, isn’t that right, Fez?” He looped an arm around a growling Stanley and wiggled his ring finger. “We’re brothers-in-law! Ha! Who would’ve thought?”

“Bill.” Ford’s breaths were painfully shallow. “I—”

“And Sixer!” Bill was suddenly in his face, his eye taking up the majority of Ford’s field of vision. “I had NO IDEA you thought about me this much when I’m away! That’s so sweet!” With no warning, his eye turned to a mouth and trailed saliva up Ford’s cheek and temple, leaving his glasses askew and his face scrunched up in distaste. The demon’s eye blinked back to normal. “WELL? Where’s my WELCOME HOME KISS?”

Once he had gathered himself enough, Ford leaned in and planted a chaste kiss on Bill’s face, near the corner of his eye. Bill giggled like a little schoolgirl.

“OH NO. It looks like somebody was REAL CLUMSY! Let me refresh your drink, doll!” The shattered glass reassembled itself and floated into Ford’s hand. The liquid leached out of the carpet, pouring itself back into place. “You hardly drank any! Here, let me help with that.”

“Bill—” was all Ford managed before his head was tilted back and about half of the glass’s contents were dumped down his throat. He gagged and almost choked, but somehow got it all down. When he was allowed to hold his head upright again, he found it quite the effort to do so. His brain felt fuzzy and full of cotton. There was a weird glittery filter over the world. He felt far more relaxed, despite the pounding point of tension persisting at the back of his mind. Any worry was now faint, like a distant star.

“Ford!” Stan shouted, but it was difficult to care that that was happening.

“Mhm,” was all he said in response, finally letting his head loll and his eyes close. “Mmm.”

“He’s just so TENSE all the time,” Bill explained casually. “This is how I get him to LOOSEN UP. And hey, I guess it makes it harder for him to YELL at you too. You’re welcome.”

“You’re sick, you three-sided freak!” Stan shook his fist, almost like a threat, as if he could do anything to the dream demon. “I’ll end you!”

“DOING AWAY WITH THE PRETENSE, HUH?”

“Pretense,” Ford laughed for some reason, stretching himself across the full length of the couch and propping his head up with his forearm. This seemed to delight Bill, who began petting through the man’s hair.

“IT IS A PRETTY FUNNY WORD, ISN’T IT, IQ?” The demon swirled the drink a little and then brought it to Ford’s lips.

“Mhm,” Ford agreed, his response partially muffled by the glass as he sipped down more of the mysterious golden liquor.

“SEE? I enjoy the MENTAL SPARRING, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes that big brain of his gets in the way.” Bill affectionately tapped the side of Ford’s head as he let the quarter-full drink hang in midair. “ANYHOO.” He rotated to face Stan head-on; the movement was uncanny. “You should get back to the twins! Cook up another adorable scheme that’s doomed to fail! Sixer and I will watch from up here!”

“S’anley,” Ford slurred, shaking his head in protest, but he didn’t get very far in his thought before Bill pressed the rim of the glass to his lips again. “B- ill– please- I-I can… can’t…” The room was spinning now, violently, and he felt like he was going to be sick. It was like he was speedrunning a very bad hangover.

“SURE YOU CAN! Don’t worry, I won’t let you throw up.” Another pat on the head, and Ford groaned his distress as his throat bobbed and the last of the liquid disappeared down his esophagus.

“Unh… S’an… Stan…” His head dropped onto the couch, eyes struggling to focus.

“Sixer.” Stan started towards his twin, but before he could make it more than two steps, Bill snapped his fingers and Stan was gone, returned to where he’d come from. The demon sank onto the couch and arranged Ford until his head was on his lap (however much of a lap Bill had), fingers continuing to card through his hair.

“Come on. Don’t look at me like that, Fordsy. The relatives can come to visit another time.”

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

Ford just wants Stan to be safe and to be OK and that's harder to be with the cat thing, but Ford can do it better now also. He can protect and provide for Stan, and Stan doesn't have to put himself in danger! Ford can protect them himself! Stan doesn't see it this way of course, just sees Ford being better than him, and him being useless. Now he can't even do the one thing he was good for, which was protect Ford, so why even be here! What's the point of him!

The sad thing. Both of their fears are the same at their root. They were never accepted and respected for who and what they were before. They always had to prove themselves to others, except to each other.

Stanford's acceptance rested on being perfect and not being a bother. And he only was better behaved because it had been beaten into his head that his disability is a burden. He didn't want to draw more attention to himself. If he ever did less than perfect, people would make his otherness eclipse anything else, even in highschool where he was actually popular. Failure was not an option, because they didn't respect his differences.

But that left so many things he never got practice in because why should a smart guy like him do it? Why should somebody who was always ostracized practice socializing and other things if he was rejected anyway? He was never good at it anyway. And how should he be able to help Stan, when he always needed his protection?

What is if he's not smart? Isn't he entirely useless and unwanted?

People didn't accept Stanley, because of his relation to Ford and protecting him, and his worse marks than his brother made him an easy target for bullying, too. Then because he likely became suspicious of everybody. They didn't respect that he didn't do things like it was expected of him, so they always expected failure.

They put him down, ignoring what he could do. They made him believe he's stupid, so he latched onto the thing he could continiously do, help make feel Ford better, protect him. He didn't apply himself and rather cheated because what was the point? He was never good at school anyway.

What if he's not strong? Isn't he entirely useless and unwanted?

Which adds to the miscommunication. They knew each other's strengths, while being beat down about their perceived flaws, and thought their brother was better. When they both are suffering from the same thing.

All of this really. I also think they probably never learned how to talk to each other properly about their insecurities from a combination of their upbringing and being twins. I don't imagine anyone in their life encouraged communication, just to toughen up and get over whatever problems they had. Then being twins, growing side by side and always together, they understood what each other wanted and felt.

Until they didn't. As they grew older they started wanting and feeling different things, but because they were so used to just knowing each other, they didn't realize the brother in their mind didn't match the real deal. Stan didn't realize Ford became more realistic, while Ford didn't see Stan's insecurities and feelings of worthlessness. In their mind they understood each other perfectly, until the science fair happened and they realized things had changed.

Now as adults, after they reconnect, they're trying to figure each other out again. They both want a similar dynamic they had as children, while adding their more adult outlooks and experiences. Except that won't work, because they're different people then they were as kids. Now they actually have to talk to each other.

Fords more confident, and he wants to pay back for all the years Stan spent protecting him. Let him take the lead and make sure neither of then get hurt. Then Stan can finally focus on his more creative pursuits.

Stan's less confident, he only sees his worth as the shield between Ford and the world. If he can't protect Ford, then what's he even around for? He doesn't see his own strengths as anything worth doing.

It'd take a while for them to really figure out each other and explain their feelings, and they probably have more fights in the meantime.

[callipraxia]

Further Interview Analysis: the "Ford Plan," and Bill's Blind Spot

I didn’t sleep again the night after the “musical Weirdmageddon” post, and wrote a lot of loopy stuff the next day, and posted none of it. But then I slept, so yay, time for an attempt at some actual analysis! Original interview is, as before, here, with credit and thanks to @fordtato and @hkthatgffan.

"I think that Bill was trying to find Ford, but I think- I always think of Bill as like, this guy who has, like - you know, he’s stirring the pot of soup that is the Ford plan, and he’s got like 900 pots of soup across the universe of different things he’s working on, and at any given moment, he’s so cocksure that it’s all gonna work his way eventually."

Bill’s a trillion years old, so it’s like, Ford disappearing for thirty years is like- [snaps fingers] is like somebody saying they’re ghosting you and then texting you the next weekend, you know what I mean? He’s like- he’s like [handwave] “Ford’s gonna- Ford’s gonna be back. Ohh, [air quotes] we had such a big fight, Ford’s sooo mad at me,” oh, you know, “our will-they-won’t-they-take-over-the-universe relationship, like, he’s gonna- he’s gonna march off in a huff, and he’ll be back, ‘cause we’re- is Ford gonna find anyone else in the multiverse that strokes his ego as well as me?” Is there anybody else in the universe that’s gonna make Ford feel as important as Bill? No, of course not, Ford needs validation, and so Bill knows Ford’s gonna be back eventually. 

...so, Bill still had a "Ford plan," did he? Like, some active plan that involved using Ford in some way to escape the Nightmare Dimension? Interesting.

I always interpreted his cliche-villain-gloating routine when Ford confronts him about being a liar as the point where Bill was ready to discard Ford altogether. If he had wanted to - if he could have been bothered - after all, he probably would have had a very high chance of somehow manipulating Ford out of the realization that he'd been played: Ford had been literally worshiping Bill a few days earlier. He was basically a cultist, and he was not only someone who'd spent way too long talking to Bill, he was also someone who could only confront Bill on Bill's turf, so to speak. But Bill didn't even try to turn it all around, because (ran my reasoning) he'd gotten what he really needed: the Portal existed, and you can't close Pandora's box. The technology was there. It would not, from Bill's trillions-of-years perspective, have taken very long to find some way to manipulate someone else into rebuilding the Portal once it existed even given Ford's attempts to hide the plans. Bill was scribbling on the Journal in invisible ink after Ford's last entry, before he buried it but after he wrote all about his plans in some detail, even drawing a map to J2. The Journal separation plan would have been laughably easy for Bill to work around. So at that point, I assumed that the only reason Bill didn't arrange for Ford to - if I may be blunt - kill himself the first time he blacked out was because Bill was basically getting off on the psychological torture and wanted to see how long he could keep it going/enjoy himself until Ford literally died of exhaustion. Ford certainly seems to think he'd have been killed if he had lost the game of 'hide and seek' in the asteroid field. I thought the idea that "Bill used Ford until he used him up, and now he was done with him" was basically canon, and that Bill paid no more attention to him from that point onward than you would pay to a broken Solo cup in the trash until Ford did something unexpected - ie, survived the Multiverse, came back with a death ray, apparently took out a few Henchmaniacs, almost shot Bill himself, and then survived the experience.

But here we have what I suppose amounts of authorial commentary which seems to directly contradict the idea that Bill didn't even regard Ford was worth finding and/or killing. Bill was looking for Ford, all those years - not all that intently, apparently, or really very long from Bill's point of view, of course, but still - and Bill still had a plan for Ford. Bill also, if I'm reading that right, seems to have really just expected Ford to come back, of his own free will, to join him eventually, not to kill him.

Of course, it's possible I'm reading that wrong, and Bill just knew that killing him would also give Ford a massive ego boost and that Ford would have to eventually reenter his orbit in order to attempt to do so. It's also true that Bill just not being able to accept rejection in no way, by itself, implies he wasn't planning to go "hahahaha, no" and kill Ford fifteen seconds after he finished begging Bill for forgiveness. But the 'Ford plan' bit seems to undermine that. Let's assume the hesitations and half-sentences are Hirsch improvising, not Bill actually cutting off a thought he might not like the end of. So was Bill genuinely never planning to kill Ford after he bumbled into the Nightmare Realm back in '82? And if not - what in the world was he planning to do to him once one of the Henchmaniacs caught him, then? And why do I have the feeling that whatever it was would have made murder seem both a) kind and b) not at all disturbing by comparison?

Also gives us, in a way, some insight into Bill. Kinda. We've always known that there's this...level, this very deep, seldom-relevant but very important level, on which Bill doesn't quite understand how people work. We see it primarily in the mistakes that Bill makes with Stan and Mabel. Maybe there was nothing he could have said or done in the situation with Stan to save himself, Stan had reached the point of literally suicidal determination and there's really not much you can do to budge someone at that point and especially not once their consciousness has already caught fire, but with Mabel - in Sock Opera, all Bill needed to do to win was keep his mouth shut for three more seconds. He was clever enough to see how Dipper and Mabel's relationship could be exploited to get Dipper to do what he wanted, but he did the exact opposite of what he should have done to get Mabel to do what he wanted, because for one thing he underestimates Mabel and for another...it comes back to that elusive Thing that Bill can't or won't understand about the deeper levels of humans. Or maybe it's Things, plural, and a distinct one for each person, but there's something there at the bottom of the personality that Bill apparently can't jive with.

With Ford, for instance, he clearly underestimates the power of genuine self-hatred and remorse. Bill may feel bad in some way about what he did to his homeworld, but look at the actual words of the Axolotl's prophecy: he feels that way not because he has realized at some point that what he did was fundamentally wrong, but because he wants to go home and can't. Essentially, his regret is for his own inconvenience. And in a lot of ways, I can see how that could have translated into him feeling he did, in fact, know all he needed to know to push Ford's buttons, because while it's never spelled out for us, it seems, based on his habit of carrying around family photographs on his person apparently since college despite not getting on well at all with his family, that there was maybe some tiny part of Ford that also wanted to "go home," and not just to flip off the town. Ford was also someone who deeply feared the consequences of his actions, if you read between the lines in the Journal - his worries about a 'Close Encounter' with the government, his scrawling that he must not lose his nerve on some early Portal notes, his talking more and more about Fiddleford losing his nerve in a way that starts seeming kind of projection-y - and Bill could certainly understand that fear perfectly well: we see Bill panic outright in the finale when he realizes he's out of options he's going to remotely like. In the unlikely event Stan would or even could save him, Stan obviously wouldn’t have done so so on Bill's own terms: Bill would have been stuck making an honest deal for once, or else left with the options of "die" and "take a one-in-a-million shot and do his invocation of the 'Ancient Power,' possibly putting himself squarely into the hands of an enemy whose full aims he probably does not know." But then, that's Bill's flaw - the things that drove him to become what he did were revenge and the fear of Death, of the ultimate loss of control. His arrogance makes him think he can take most any situation, no matter how disadvantageous it might seem, and twist it around sooner or later, but Death - well, that's it, ain't it? Or, as Horace might say in a really old translation:

When life is o'er, and Minos has rehearsed The grand last doom, Not birth, nor eloquence, nor worth, shall burst Torquatus' tomb.

(Horace, Ode 4.7. The Odes and Carmen Saeculare of Horace. John Conington. trans. London. George Bell and Sons. 1882.)

Bit different from most translations I've read, but close enough and in the public domain I believe, so we'll go with that. It's possible that Bill's...unique...state of existence may actually make dying an even more terrifying prospect for him than it for the rest of us. He became what he was to escape limitations, including mortality - but after all that killing and burning and transformation, he found out that he might not ever die, but that he could still be destroyed. And even when he found his own 'territory', it started decaying around him, which proved that dimensions, too, can die even if nobody is apparently actively trying to destroy them. What happens to him then? That's what he's afraid of, and he cannot quite grasp that others might be able to overcome that fear in service of either another principle or another fear. That's where he keeps running into trouble in the series timeline, too. It never occurred to him that Gideon might have enough humanity to want Mabel to actually care about him, instead of just about possessing her - much less that Gideon could want that enough to risk death for it. It was inconceivable to him that Dipper and Mabel could voluntarily turn their backs on even a blatantly false paradise to willingly walk into a living hell, just because it was the right thing to do. And as for Ford and Stan....

Well, on one level, he's right about Ford. When he met Ford, they did have certain things in common: frustration, ambition, deep and secret regrets, loneliness, and fear of facing the consequences. Ford's desire for respectability and honor from those who had rejected him his whole life may have extended this even further for him than it went for Bill in some ways: he couldn't even admit to himself that what he was doing was totally self-interested, whereas Bill, like Stan, has long since come to terms with his own selfishness. And like Bill, Ford probably didn't even have the ability to see that no matter what he did, it would never be enough, and would never really satisfy him. But death? Ford doesn't fear death. Never really has, as far as I can tell, but he certainly doesn't now. The way he lives his life, the man might as well be courting death - sending it roses every week and buying all its drinks at the bar, so to speak. He and Bill both fear the consequences of their actions, but 'consequences' are a category, and it's just as possible to be afraid to live as it is to be afraid to die. And Stan...Stan is harder to be sure of. Certainly Stan's priority is always for self-preservation. He's probably depressed to some degree, and he will risk life and limb without hesitation when he perceives a threat to that which he loves, but that's something that usually happens in a crisis. He doesn't hesitate because he doesn't think about what he's doing, which is what makes the Final Deal such an incredible gesture for me - he not only had plenty of time to think about what was going to happen, but he had to actively take steps himself to enable it to happen. To me, at least, that seems the hardest thing...but then, the whole situation in the Fearamid is one that brings to mind some of my worst fears, to the point that I find the scene difficult to watch and I almost scrapped an entire 22,000-word story once just because it required me to write about a small part of it. I'm sure Bill risked death, in some fashion, to become what he is, and I'm sure he was afraid of failure every time - but he was less afraid of a bad outcome that might come from leaping at the chance for some semblance of life, any semblance of life, no matter what that might look like or how long the odds might be, than he was of doing what he knew would lead to...wherever even destructible gods go, when they go. This is why the Stans were the thing he couldn't account for, really. He couldn't conceive of having a priority higher than self-preservation, of overcoming his worst fear - and that was what destroyed him. Maybe, anyway.

It's sort of funny, actually - I started writing a completely different post yesterday about how to develop a new character based on some of Hirsch's remarks, and in the course of it, I made the remark that I found it hard to fathom how you could write any of Gravity Falls, at all, without knowing ahead of time that it is the story of (if I can make so bold as to quote my own story's dialogue) "the Faustus of New Jersey and His Knucklehead Brother and the Hazard Sign From Hell," and without at least a fairly good understanding of who those three people are and how they got there. If one looks at the story that way, I suppose you could say the events after their starting situation are also the story of these three being thrown up against the places where their real deepest fears lie, and seeing who has something he really, really will not compromise on...or at least, it did at the start of this paragraph. But did any of them, really? Bill blatantly fails that test, of course - Bill runs, just like he's been, in a way, running for his entire miserable existence. Ford comes close to what might have been a couple of breaking experiences for him - either surrendering to Bill or, had the memory wipe worked the way he thought it would, with living with whatever the fallout of essentially killing his brother would have been - but the universe was kind and stacked the deck just enough to let him cheat his way out of that one, at least for the most part. But what about Stan? He didn't want to die, but we already knew that he'd risk it for the kids, because we've seen him do that before. The way he went about it this time arguably took more courage than the others, when he just went in swinging at an immediate and obvious threat, but it was still an escalation on an established thing. Stan's real worst fear isn’t death - it’s of being alone again, of losing his family. That's the principle that overrides self-preservation for him. What would have happened if he'd been in Ford's shoes - required to take up the role not of the sacrifice, but of the one who performed it, giving up one member of the family to save the others? Could he have done that?

...though that is wandering from the topic I was originally talking about, isn't it. Which was that yeah, Bill is, in his way, as fallible as anyone else despite his immense resources - which is gonna be a fun topic to get into when I get around to the post in this series about writing higher intelligences, but that's also not the point, which was that Ford was never going to go back to Bill the way Bill thought he was, because Bill's inability to understand other people's ability to do things that he can't is a serious blind spot for him. It's the thoughts he can't have that doom him (probably...hopefully, anyway...), fortunately for the rest of us.

[lkfarrout]

This is chapter 2! Read 1 here, or read 3 next!

Main Tags: General, Sea Grunkles, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: After a fight with a kraken-like creature, Stan is left with broken ribs, an injured arm, and a bruised ego. Ford just wants to help him.

Warnings: angst, injury, broken bones, swearing

Chapter 2:

Ford awoke the next morning to the smell of pancakes.

"Good morning, Stanley."

"Mornin'" Stan had his back to him, cooking away in the boat's little kitchen. Ford watched his brother carefully. Stan was using a spatula to flip the pancakes, which was unusual for him. Typically, he would take any exuse to show off his skills at flipping them in the air with just the pan. Plus it was one less dish to wash.

"Is your arm okay this morning?"

Stan shrugged, "Eh, still hurts. Sure it's nothin' though."

Ford made his way to the table, just in time to get two pancakes dumped in front of him.

"Thank you. Did you have any dreams last night? Any more memories come back?"

"Actually, yeah," Stan chuckled as he joined his bother at the table, "had one about the last time I broke a couple ribs."

"What's so funny about that?"

"Cuz that time it was your fault." Stan laughed again through a mouthful of food.

Ford raised his eyebrows, "My fault?"

"Yeah, few years back I was diggin' around in some cabinets in the basement and found this weird gun thing. Anyway I started messing with it and before I knew it this big metal hunk of shit was flying towards me."

Ford laughed at him, "Stan, you can hardly call that my fault."

---

I was a clear, beautiful day. The sky was blue and cloudless, and the arctic air was cold and refreshing. The boat swayed gently on the water, drifing toward the next anomaly Ford had set the GPS for. It was the perfect day outside, the kind of sea weather Stan had always longed for. But he didn't know that, because he was in the cabin doing everything he could to avoid getting dressed. Getting his coat and shirt off last night had been hard enough.

Ford remained at the dining table, taking the opportunity of a slow day to catch up on some journal entries and document a few of the creatures they'd encountered. Stan tried to busy himself in the kitchen, cleaning up breakfast and checking inventory. But after sweeping the same 5 square-foot area about three times, he knew he was out of luck.

Stan made his way to his bunk and began to dress. Socks, easy enough. Pants, okay, doin' good so far. Shirt... Stan was able to get his left arm into the thermal long sleeve without too much pain. But when he got his other arm in and tried to pull it over his head, pain shot up his arm and into his neck.

Okay, try again. He'd never missed his button-ups so much. Of course, he had plenty of hawaiian shirts packed for when they docked, but those wouldn't exactly cut it out here in the open arctic. He tried his head first this time, but bending his arm into position to get his sleeve on like this was going to be difficult.

He was breathing harder now, and each inhale amplified the ache in his ribs. He was about ready to rip the shirt in half and shove it through the porthole. Get your shit together, Stan. He told himself. You're being ridiculous. He tried a few more times to push through the pain and get his arm in, but all he managed to accomplish was getting his wrist stuck in the armhole, unable to move.

Defeated, he looked over to Ford, who was diligently writing away.

"Uh, hey Six?"

"Hmm?" He didn't look up.

"A little help, maybe?"

Ford couldn't help but laugh at his brother's predicament as he arose from the table. "How on earth did you manage to do that?" He bunched Stan's sleeve up until he could access his hand. In one swift motion, he grabbed Stan by the wrist and pulled up--

"Ah! Shit, Ford!" Stan yelped, pulling away and gripping the front of his shoulder. But, his sleeve was on now, so that was a start.

"Stan? I was trying to help..." His twin's voice was full of concern and pity. Stan almost preferred being laughed at. He turned away, quickly getting his shirt the rest of the way on. He started looking for his shoes, more to avoid Ford's gaze than anything.

"Is it hurt that bad? You should really let me look at it." Ford reached for his brother.

Stan swatted his hand away, "I'm fine."

"Do you need help with your coat?"

"No."

Stanford sighed and resigned himself back to the table with his writing. "At least ice it for a while. And take a pain killer."

[kittynugg]

heyyyy guess what i write sometimes too

words: 3,821 im really rusty with writing so uhh read up idk

Stanford Pines had always been a loner.

The stone-cold, action movie hero type of man who never needed anything from anybody. Certainly not companionship.

It was dark. Eleven-thirty, an hour after his niece and nephew had finally stopped bugging him. The boy, who had introduced himself as “Dopper”, “Roderick”, and “Dipper”, had asked him enough questions to make his head spin and English stop making sense to him. And he enjoyed answering questions! 

The jury was still out on his name.. All of those seemed cruel to name a child, especially “Roderick”. What he did know for sure was that his nephew was rather sharp for his age. Hence the gratuitous questions.

Mabel, whose name he knew from the girl repeatedly introducing herself in what almost seemed to be a sugar-fueled record skip, asked more about rather childish things like his favorite color (red) and animal (plaidypus). Then, of course, Stanley shooed them away come ten-thirty so they could go to bed and he could have a moment of peace.

Several hours of peace.

Thank the stars.

He decided to spend these hours awake so as to savor them. Also because he couldn't seem to get to sleep, but that wasn't the focus of his reasoning. The nonstop questions, the footsteps pounding on the floor above him and voices shriek-laughing, it was miserable. And Stan had done his best to keep them away from him! It was preferable, yet almost offensive.. Like he was some kind of monster they needed to be protected from.

“As far as I'm concerned, they're the only family I have left.” Fine. Maybe he was a monster. But he was a monster with a job to finish; dismantling the portal. He’d spent the hour since the kids had gone to bed at work, and a well-deserved break was in order.

And so he found himself in the kitchen. Pitch darkness was broken by the refrigerator light as he opened it up and sifted through it. He moved a box of Pitt Cola aside to find a rather captivating prize in the back of the fridge, a six-pack of beer with a sticky-note reading “STAN’S B SODA DO NOT TOUCH” attached to the cardboard handle of the carrier.

Now, Ford was never quite fond of alcohol, but it had been thirty years since he’d tasted Earth alcohol. A mix of curiosity, temptation and the desire to stick it to his brother that person living upstairs won over the simple thought of “I don’t really like this stuff.”

Also he didn’t want to think about why he couldn’t sleep and stress was a bitch.

A six-fingered hand carefully removed the sticky note, and he took out a pen to write on it. 

“Very convincing, Knucklehead. -Stanford Pines” was written in neat cursive. He took a bottle of “soda” from the pack and stuck the square of yellow paper back onto it. With the beer in-hand and his journal tucked away in his coat for writing, he realized he would need a private place to unwind. The basement was stuffy. Clearly Stan hadn’t taken care of the ventilation system. Another one of his messes he would have to clean up. 

The ideal place would have fresh, cool air, and no “family” to bother him. Unlike that person living upstairs, he didn’t have family. He’d left that behind years ago. There simply wasn’t room for family in his life, not with the dark path he trekked. Destiny wanted him alone and so alone he was.

He dramatically looked to the window as he tried to sip from his closed beer bottle, then glared at it as if it’d dampened his melodramatic display on purpose. But then his eyes darted back up to the window. Fresh air, check. It was outside in the woods. No family, check. Everyone was asleep anyway. 

Bingo! He would sit outside for a while! With a pinch of luck, Stan hadn’t removed the ladder leading up to the roof. A beer and journaling in the great outdoors. That was just what he needed tonight.

A short walk into the, ugh, gift shop led him to where the ladder used to reside, now obscured by a blue curtain but still there. The bottle was stored in his coat (it had the perfect little pocket for it, he normally stored a gun in it) so he could climb the ladder with both hands.

He opened up the hatch in the ceiling to poke his head out and look around, and once he was sure nothing was there to watch him he pulled himself up and through. Aged roof tiles nearly slipped out from under his feet as he stepped onto them. Stan’s laziness was going to kill him someday, he swore to god.

Or.. Whatever was up there, he thought as he looked to the stars.

There was a nice, flat edge he could sit on above one of the attic windows. And when he glanced up there, he even saw a chair and cooler! Absolutely not the doing of that person- Stan, too wordy, because Stan was deathly afraid of heights. And the large one (Zeus?) seemed to listen to whatever he said. The only person left to be the culprit had to have been the teenage girl working the counter, Mabel and his nephew were out of the question. Too short and weak to bring anything up there.

Wendy, on the other hand, was the daughter of “Boyish Dan” Corduroy, and he’d seen that man in the gift shops. No longer boyish, and no longer non threatening. He could snap a person in half like a toothpick and then use them as a toothpick. Logically, his children would inherit that strength. 

He climbed onto the edge and parked himself up on the chair. A relaxed sigh broke the near-silence of the night, only crickets and the rustling of wind through trees serving to serenade him.

Until he heard the pitter-patter of footsteps. Light ones, and they made muted clicks against the floor below the open hatch. He recognized the sound as Mabel’s slippers. So he wasn’t surprised when he saw her head poke up to look around. Surprised that she was awake, maybe, but not surprised that it was her.

When they locked eyes for a second Ford quickly looked away, figuring that eye contact would make her come closer and knowing that he didn't want that, then opened up his beer.

Ignore it and it might go away.

Unfortunately for his me-time she did not. Instead, she climbed up herself, smiling at him as if it wasn't far past her bedtime. She didn't even look tired. A sip was taken from the brown glass bottle, he figured he would need it even more now- oh that tasted disgusting.

“Grunkle Ford!” The girl skipped up to him with practiced ease. Not a single tile shifted under her feet, which prompted him to wonder how she did it. He didn’t get the chance to ask before she flung herself beside him onto the lawn chair. It nearly tipped over with the force, causing him to flinch and shoot a subtle glare at her anything-but-subtle.. self.

She looked at him with a pair of wide, innocent eyes. “You come up here, too?” Asked Mabel with a glance down at his beer. The way her brows furrowed indicated that she knew what it was, and why he might be drinking it alone in the middle of the night. So what if he was a little stressed? “Wendy comes up here to get out of doing stuff at work..” Her eyes flicked back up to his face with the addition.

He took a drink, then got off of the chair so she could fully sit. Maybe she’d put a damper on his night but she didn’t deserve to be cramped on the edge of the chair or on the roof tiles. And maybe he didn’t want to be cramped on a chair with her. Human contact (or any contact with a living being that didn’t involve violence) had become– Was always very foreign to him. Standing with one arm folded behind his back and the other holding his bottle, he spoke.

“I did take her for the aloof type.” Like all teenagers, Wendy was uncaring and scared him with her insincere compliments and new age “computing phone”. He could name a single teenager who he wasn’t afraid of and that teenager had grown up to be a waste. “I don’t usually come up here, no, but I would before your other Uncle came along.”

The discouraged look that flashed behind her eyes wasn’t unnoticed by Ford, despite how quickly it was replaced with determination. A determination that made him nervous. “You mean Grunkle Stan.” With insistence masked by harmlessness she smiled up at him. Like the correction wasn’t at all hostile.

“..Right. Stanley,” relented Stanford before sitting on the roof tiles to be a little closer to her level. She didn’t seem satisfied by that, and gestured expectantly for him to continue. What? What else was he supposed to say? “What, what’s this?” He mimicked the movements of her hands with an arched eyebrow.

Apparently that was the wrong answer, he assumed, watching as her eyes narrowed at him. “And who is Stan?”

“..Your.. Great Uncle? We went over this seconds ago.” He’d have to run some tests later, he was concerned for her memory. 

Luckily, she elaborated, “who is he to you?” Ah. She could have just said that was what she wanted. He didn’t even think about his answer before it slipped from his mouth. “My twin brother.”

“That’s right!” Mabel jumped up with a beam, yelping at the chair nearly toppling over. Acting on reflex he placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her. Once she was stable again, he moved away and resumed his original position, hands subtly and habitually hidden behind his back.

“Be careful,” he scolded, “a fall from that height is enough to break bones.” ..Said the one drinking alcohol, which stunted one’s coordination. Maybe he was being a hypocrite. Nevertheless his statement was still valid, he was much better equipped to fall off of a roof than her. 

A sheepishly muttered apology from her sent a pang of.. Was that guilt? Yes, he felt guilty for scolding her. If these kids were going to be living under his roof for a while, he supposed he’d have to get used to scolding them in a way that didn’t cause fear or shame. That never worked on Stan when they were young.

It must have been why he ended up so.. Unruly, into adulthood. Because he lacked the proper discipline. 

No use dwelling on it, he needed to find out what Mabel was doing up. Sleep was crucial to a growing child and by the looks of it neither of the children had been getting enough. “What are you doing awake? It’s an hour past your bedtime.” 

His eyes barely caught a mischievous smirk plastered on the girl’s face before she turned her head. Then she looked back at him with that same ‘I’m an angel and would never do anything wrong!’ face, but this time with a hint of.. Sorrow?

“Grunkle Ford.. Do you ever feel, um..” The vulnerable tone she spoke in hit him right in the hardwired paternal instincts. ”Sad?” As she continued it seemed almost like another little sparkle appeared in those eyes of hers, which didn’t help 

Naturally, in spite of his.. Awkwardness around children, or humans in general, he hoped to curb this sadness. What to say, though? According to his research females were at higher risk of experiencing depressive symptoms than males. With any luck this “sadness” she spoke of wouldn’t be related to that. She was getting to the age where he’d started experiencing.. Mental troubles of the like.

“Occasionally,” he decided upon answering, “but sadness is an emotion everyone exper-”

She interrupted him. “That isn’t really what I mean.” Hm. That wasn’t looking good for the depression theory. “I mean, like.. Lost? And kinda alone?”

He pretended to consider her question, though immediately knowing the answer. Did he feel lost? Yes. Give him time, he’d find himself. Did he feel alone? Yes, but it was better that way. His life was too dangerous to share with another person.

So he answered, “well, yes. But you have your brother by your side. You aren’t alone at all.” Always a confusing feeling. Loneliness despite being surrounded by people. Oddly enough, he didn’t seem to feel that now. “Have you been feeling that way?” 

“I know I’ve got Dipper,” ah, so that was his name, “but do you have anyone? I heard you and Stan talking. You don’t sound really happy.” Her brows knitted together as she seemed to scrutinize his expression, an expression that had gone just as thoughtful as hers. A little offended, frankly.

This wasn’t about him. Since when was this about him?

He was perfectly happy, for her information. Dusty old college textbooks, paranormal creatures and the fungi growing in the basement that made him woozy were enough company for him.

“I have the cycloptopus, it’s..” words trailing off, he remembered that the cycloptopus wasn’t a good conversationalist and liked escaping its jar to try and eat his flesh. It was actually kind of a jerk if you asked him. 

Mabel finished his sentence for him, “a weird creepy monster that doesn’t count?”A little amused grin worked its way into her features. “You need a person! Then you won’t feel alone anymore!”

He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off in a reprimanding tone. “A human person. Like.. Someone you’ve known for a really long time!” She made a circular gesture with her hands, seeming to expect him to get a point she was trying to make. “Someone you’ve known since, I don’t knooooow.. The womb..?”

“I don’t follow,” admitted Ford with hunched shoulders. Since the womb.. Who had he known “since the womb”? 

As it would turn out, that was not the response she was looking for, made evident by the palm she slapped to her forehead. The smile remained on her face but felt.. Customer service-like. Forced. “Someone you know really well. Or, at least, you did.. You’ve gotta know who I’m talking about.”

“I.. I really don’t, Mabe-” and then it hit him! “..You want me to reconcile with Stanley because you think I’m lonely.” That called for a nice, big drink of his beer. What a laughable request! Stan ruined his life and she wanted him to walk up to him and treat him like a person!? After he sold his soul to this “Mystery Shack” nonsense, Ford wasn’t sure if he could still call himself a person. But Mabel seemed almost excited at his correct assumption.

She chirped, “yeah! You said I have Dipper, but you don’t have anyone right now.” An empathetic gaze was directed up at him. “Wouldn’t it be a little better if you and Stan stopped being all stupid with each other?” Being called stupid hurt his (extremely) delicate ego. “..You know you’re kind of a dum-dum. And it just makes me kinda sad.” She despairingly looked at her feet.

Ooh, there were those paternal instincts again. Something about the glum look in her eyes implored him to just.. Fix it. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t annoying. With a sigh, he looked at his bottle, then poured it out over the edge. The bottle was set on the roof beside him when it was void of the bitter liquid he’d been drinking. Beer was awful, anyway.

“..Maybe I’m being a little rash, sweetie,” that slipped out, but caused Mabel’s expression to light up just a little. “Sweetie”. Ignore it. You aren’t getting attached to them, they’ll be gone in Autumn. “But you can’t expect me to just forgive Stanley.” For all he’d done? Hah! He’d have to be insane to even think about it.

She laughed softly at him, like it was silly he’d even say that. “Not yet, Grunkle Ford! I get mad at Dipper sometimes, too.” Tiny hands rose to fidget with her hair. “And it’s really hard to get over that. I think if Dipper ruined my dreams, then pushed me into some crazy-bonkers nightmare dimension I’d be mad at him for, like, a bazillion years!” Her shoulders arched in a shrug. “But we always say we’re sorry and hug it out after we’re done being big ‘ol grumps about it.”

A “big ‘ol grump”. She was calling him a “big ‘ol grump”.

“And then we’re happy again! Being all mad at Dipper is the worst, you can’t like being mad at Stan all the time.” It wasn’t something he explicitly enjoyed, no, but it was necessary. 

..Send him to the Theraprism, damnit, he’d finally lost it.

Ford ran a stressed, slightly uncoordinated hand through his hair. Certainly the alcohol was influencing this, but.. “Okay, you make a good point. I admit, I’m.. Not ready to reconcile with him. But when I am, I will.” He smiled faintly at her.

“Are you sure you’re gonna?” Mabel raised an eyebrow and squinted at him. “..I’m putting on my skepticals.” Then she made circles around her eyes with her fingers. He’d be damned, they did make her seem rather skeptical. 

So, he used an age-old technique that would surely convince her. “..Pinky-promise,” he crouched to her level, extending his extra finger. “This one’s a full finger more sincere.” A warm chuckle sealed the deal.

Or, well, Mabel’s giggle and pinky wrapped around his did.

“Pinky-promise.”

Ford tugged his sweater sleeves down and took a breath. It’d been four days since Weirdmageddon and one since Stan finally remembered him, finally remembered at least some of the good times and.. The worst of the bad. 

Since the moment Mabel’s “scrapbook therapy” sessions began to focus on him he’d been apologizing, but they’d all been met with confusion. “Yeah, uh..  I don’t even know what you did.” Now that Stan knew who he was he figured now would be a good time to make good on that pinky-promise. 

“Stanley?” He piped up, head poking into the living room. The television blared with the latest “The Duchess Approves” movie (which was probably made in the Jurassic era) and Stan was parked up on the armchair watching it.

Without even looking up, Stan greeted, “hey, Ford.” Surprisingly, the lack of attention and aloofness in his voice were comforting. He didn’t have to think about who the man in front of him was, he wasn’t tentative, he seemed to just know Ford as his brother.

The folding chair beside him attracted Stanford like a moth to a flame. He invited himself to sit on it and turned to Stan, then idly turned to watch the movie with him.

“You are insufferable, Lionel!” Boomed the Duchess, slipping the diamond wedding ring off of her finger. “If you only want me for riches I suggest you sell this.” She flicked the ring across the table without even looking up at the count’s shocked expression.

As she stood, she adjusted her hat and sharply turned to leave. “Good day.”

“But- But Duchess, you must reconsider!” Count Lionel stood to give chase–

And that was about when the movie lost his attention. It was so dry, the script must have taken ten minutes to write! He looked at Stan; completely engrossed in the crappy movie. “So..” he cleared his throat a couple of times to get his twin’s attention. When he grumpily turned to him, he spoke. “I understand that you’re very absorbed in your movie,” muttered Ford apologetically, “but I’d like to talk about the past forty-or-so years.”

“Eh.” A hand was waved at him. “After the movie.”

He didn’t think he had a choice, so he miserably looked back at the television.

The next ten minutes were painful. But, well, it was only ten minutes and he’d certainly been tortured with worse and for longer. Four days ago. His hands subconsciously moved to rub his arms at the thought. A relieved sigh escaped him as the movie finally ended, and Stan gave him his attention.

“Good movie, right?” He nudged his shoulder. “Ah, past forty years or whatever, let’s talk.” An arm was slung over the armrest, Stan making himself comfortable.

Ford gave a muttered, lied comment about the movie being “okay” and rested his hands in his lap. “I figured I should.. Give a formal apology. For..” He subtly consulted the written topic on his palm. ‘BEING MEAN AND BAD’ was written in pink gel pen by Mabel minutes before he entered the living room. 

That did not help.

“..being a bad brother.” He’d been horrible, really, he was supposed to protect Stan as his older brother (every minute counts with twins) but instead he went and ruined his life. “I don’t know how I could ever make it up to you, or repay you for bringing me back, I–”

He was silenced by a barked laugh from Stanley. “Repay me? Jeez, you think I’m some kinda loan shark?” A snort slipped past his defenses with the laughter, not without a grumbled ‘ew’. 

Ford, of course, figured that was exactly how it was, so he slowly nodded.

“..Moses– I don’t want shit from you. You being alive’s enough for me.” His words weren’t without a glance around to ensure that there weren’t any kids around. Then he shifted to wrap an arm around Ford’s shoulders and tug him into a little side-hug. 

That was a feeling Stanford missed, so he leaned into it. He couldn’t help a mumbled protest to Stan’s acceptance, “but I ruined your life. Twice! No, three times now.” The project, the portal, and the memory erasure during Weirdmageddon. Thinking about them all in quick succession gave him a churning feeling in his stomach that he hated. 

And yet, Stan shrugged it off. “And? I ruined your life too. You ask me, I should be the one sayin’ sorry.” Oh, please. Ford almost laughed at that. Giving everything he had was enough of an apology for the rest of his twin’s life. He just hoped he could share that life with him.

“No, Stanley.. I honestly feel my life’s been improved significantly. Dipper and Mabel have been delightful, not to mention you–” Once again he was rudely interrupted, this time with a rough pat on the head.

“See what I mean? I’m glad you’re here too. That’s all I want.” His eyes flicked back to the TV as the credits for some other awful period drama came on. “Ooh, this is a good one.”

As the screen slowly stole Stan’s attention from Ford, he thought about his words. Just being there? That was all Stan wanted?

..He could do that.

[mifu-mifuart]

Kicking my feet rn and giggling

Oh they're so 💖💖💖

Poor Ford though :(( hopefully he's doing better !

and it's good Bill finally found out about healthy relationships! And it's good that the Axolotl can handle him >:)) (reminds me of that one : "My dog don't bite." "YES IT DO!!” meme 😭😭

Speaking of which,

1- how did Axolotl and Bill get together?? (Who made the first move, if they did, or they just slipped into it)

2- what are their love languages (how they show their love) towards one another??

3- what is something one does to make the other flustered (blush)

(If the Axolotl can feel that!)

So, about the questions!:

1. I think the Axolotl is always the initiator of everything. They are not shy about doing something that ordinary people call romantic, since it does not bother them, the Axolotl is actually quite calm to all these kisses, compliments and other things. If the Axolotl likes Bill, then why don't they show it? In general, the Axolotl becomes the initiator of all cute things in principle. In fact, they do not have an official romantic relationship, they just become emotionally attached to each other at one moment.

2. In fact, they don't have many very romantic moments, because I see their relationship on a higher level. They don't really need to do anything to show that they like being around each other. However, the Axolotl is not stingy with compliments, some kisses on the forehead, cheeks, lips. They are quite tactile, but not intrusive, Bill's comfort is quite important to them. Bill will be embarrassed for a very very long time from any manifestation of tenderness on the part of the Axolotl, so his way of showing love is quite simple: he does not get indignant and does not run away if the Axolotl does any of the above.

3. And of course Bill, as completely inexperienced in such matters, can easily experience shame and embarrassment from simple actions on the part of the Axolotl. He can pretend to be cold-blooded and indifferent to such things if he expects it, but sudden actions can quickly and easily embarrass him. Yes, it sounds stupid, Bill would never be embarrassed by such a thing, he would laugh it off and laugh at it, but when his mask of a joking madman slowly falls off with every passing moment next to the Axolotl and when he begins to feel affection for this creature, it seems to me that he may begin to be embarrassed by such things. Since he is no longer so confident in himself, many of his "human" feelings ("human", since the Euclidians essentially have the same level of development as us) have come out and he looks more like a simple Euclidian, rather than an evil demon and chaos in the flesh. In fact, his embarrassment is very funny, he may even be very ridiculously angry at the Axolotl, but the Axolotl does not take it seriously.

It is difficult to make an Axolotl blush. They're a very calm dude. Maybe if Bill makes a dirty joke, although it might be a little annoying rather than embarrassing for them. They doesn't worry about all these things, they just shows love and is ready to accept it in return, for them there is nothing embarrassing about it!

[owl-falls-au]

I sometimes can’t help but to compare Eda’s and Lilith’s relationship to Stan’s and Ford’s. Cause obviously looking at, Eda’s and Lilith’s relationship is way healthier than Stan’s and Ford’s

Even when Lilith was still in the Empire’s coven, their sibling dynamic was still quite strong.

Which makes me wonder if they could possibly sort of help Stan and Ford build back their relationship.

Eda obviously helping out Stan, and Lilith helping out Ford.

I just want to know what you think?

Eda and Lilith's relationship is much healthier than Stan and Ford's | la relación de Eda y Lilith es mucho más saludable que la de Stan y Ford.

IN ENGLISH

It's a good observation, as in reality, it seems that all four have almost the same story in comparison, although there are many differences.

Stan "risked" Ford's future, leading to a conflict in which Stan ended up being the most harmed, while Ford put distance between them even after he was able to try to find out if Stan was okay...

Eda also "risked" Lilith's future, but it was Lilith who did something that directly affected Eda, causing her to be hated by many people and isolate herself from the world...

I don't like to blame Ford for his actions, although sometimes I also feel that he acted like an idiot in the original story because of ego and pride, but Lilith would have actively tried to help Eda heal

Lilith did look for Eda, she spoke to her, although they fought, Lilith only sought her well-being

Ford didn't bother looking for Stan until he needed something from him, and we already know how that ended.

In theory, the relationships between both pairs of siblings are complicated, but Eda and Lilith managed to fix their relationship.

Lillith y Ford

Lilith would see in Ford everything she hated about her past self, his arrogance and ego made person, But I would also understand what it was like to always be by the side of someone who made it impossible to be separated from Eda.

Of course, she blames herself for causing so much harm to Eda, but Ford would never openly admit his guilt, unless you will hear how Lilith cursed her younger sister to have the path to success free...

Ford would be lying if he said he never thought about doing something like that, after all, having the pressure of being the smart brother, Added to the fact that Stan was smarter in other areas, he made Ford sabotage him a couple of times, ¿Who would have thought that those little sabotages he did to Stanley would come back to ruin his big chance? Karma certainly exists.

Lilith confronts Ford and makes him see that he had the opportunity to look for Stan and help him, she throws in his face the story of Stan living in his car for 10 years, which makes Ford finally understand that in a way he was to blame, he could have helped Stan, just like Lilith, but he let his ego keep him away from his brother...

Thanks to Lillith, Ford begins to understand things better, and takes the step that was needed to ask for forgiveness.

Eda and Stan

Eda would be overprotective of Stan, after all, she found Stan in a cave, shivering from the cold, sobbing and hugging his twin brother's diary tightly.

Eda sees in Stan the reflection of her younger self, she sees someone small who still needs protection, that's why she gives him the special potion that keeps him young, she doesn't like being called old, but she likes to feel that she is wiser than Stan, at least that she is a good older sister

Of course she wants Stan and Ford to reconcile, but Eda isn't exactly happy about having to be around someone like Ford., I'd really rather Stan punch him in the face than forgive him.

EN ESPAÑOL

Es una buena observación, ya que en realidad, parece que los cuatro tienen casi la misma historia en comparación, aunque hay muchas diferencias

Stan "arriesgo" el futuro de Ford, lo que llevo a un conflicto en el que Stan terminó siendo el más perjudicado, mientras Ford ponía la distancia entre ellos incluso después cuando pudo intentar saber si Stan estaba bien

Eda también "arriesgó" el futuro de Lilith, pero fue Lilith la que hizo algo que afectó directamente a Eda, haciendo que ella fuera odiada por muchas personas y se aislara del mundo

no me gusta culpar a Ford por sus acciones, aunque a veces también siento que actuaba como un idiota en la historia original por el ego y su orgullo, pero Lilith habría intentado activamente ayudar a Eda a curarse

Lilith si busco a Eda, hablo con ella, aunque pelearon, Lilith solo buscaba su bienestar

Ford no se molesto en buscar a Stan hasta que necesito algo de el, y ya sabemos cómo terminó eso

En teoría, las relaciones de ambos pares de hermanos son complicadas, pero Eda y Lilith lograron arreglar su relación

Lillith y Ford

Lilith vería en Ford todo lo que odiaba de su yo del pasado, su arrogancia y ego hecho persona, pero también entendería lo que es estar siempre al lado de alguien que hacia que fuera imposible estar separada de Eda

Por supuesto, ella se culpa por causarle tanto daño a Eda, pero Ford nunca admitiría abiertamente su culpa, a menos que escuchará como Lilith maldijo a su hermana menor para tener el camino al éxito libre...

Ford mentiría si dijera que nunca pensó en hacer algo asi, después de todo, tener la presión de ser el hermano inteligente, sumado a que Stan era mas inteligente en otros ámbitos, hizo que Ford lo sabotee un par de veces, ¿Quien diría que esos pequeños sabotajes que le hizo a stanley volverían por el para arruinar su gran oportunidad? Ciertamente el karma existe

Lilith confronta a Ford y le hace ver que el tuvo la oportunidad de buscar a Stan y ayudarlo, le echa en la cara la historia de Stan viviendo en su auto durante 10 años, lo que hace que Ford finalmente entienda que en cierto modo el tuvo la culpa, pudo ayudar a Stan, al igual que Lilith, pero el dejo que su ego lo alejara de su hermano...

Gracias a Lillith, Ford empieza a entender mejor las cosas, da ese paso que hacia falta dar para pedir perdón

Eda y Stan

Eda sería sobreprotectora con Stan, después de todo, encontró a Stan en una cueva, temblando de frío, sollozando y abrazando con fuerzas el diario de su hermano gemelo

Eda ve en Stan el reflejo de su yo más joven, ve a alguien pequeño que aún necesita protección, por eso le da el brebaje especial que lo mantiene joven, no le gusta que la llamen vieja, pero le gusta sentir que es más sabia que Stan, al menos que es una buena hermana mayor

Claro que quiere que Stan y Ford se reconcilien, pero Eda no está muy feliz que digamos de tener que estar cerca de alguien como Ford, realmente preferiría que Stan lo golpee en la cara antes de que lo perdone