#stan pines you deserve the world

[artsymeeshee]

The magic 8-ball

[lorebird]

In which Ford struggles so badly to relate to other people that he wonders if he’s really human at all. The more isolated he becomes, the harder it is to reconcile with his own humanity.

[raiidsol]

YOU GUYS DONT GET IT STAN KNEW THAT THE PORTAL COULD BLOWN UP THE WHOLE CITY HE KNEW THAT HE COULD EVEN BE ARRESTED AGAIN HE >KNEW< HOW DANGEROUS IT WAS BUT THAT DIDNT MATTER NONE OF IT WOULD MATTER IF COULDT BRING HIS BROTHER BACK THIS IS SO SICK

[wowifinallywatched]

Wow I Finally Watched Don't Worry Darling

This movie was...satisfying.

You begin watching this perfect life. Perfect Marriage, Perfect Social life, Perfect House, Perfect Job. 

But it all seems a little too perfect.

Then suddenly, There will be a small shift in this perfect world. Something will change, There will be a speck of hesitation, An Egg with no yolk and you'll notice it instantly because all you’ve been given so far is perfection. 

Then it hooks you in.

This world is too perfect, So whats the catch? That's what the world has taught us, When things are too good to be true, They are. Right?

From there, Oh Boy you're in for a ride.

This movie shocked me, It surprised me, But most of all - A favourite of mine, It made me gasp so many times unexpectedly. 

By the end of it, In the last 30 minutes specifically, My phone was lost to my room, The outside world had completely fallen away and I was hunched over inches from my screen, Hands covering my mouth to stifle my gasps at 1am while we finally got the ultimate satisfaction of finding out the secret behind perfection.

If you want a movie thats going to take you in one direction, then suddenly jerk you in another, Then suddenly spin you 360 degree so much so you dont remember where perfection begins and reality ends. Because you're not given the answers and watching these characters squirm, You're discovering everything at the exact same time as Alice. 

You feel like you're living your best life with her. You feel like you're going crazy with her. You feel like you're escaping with her. You feel like you can't breathe as you're getting squished by the glass suffocating you into silence, Until suddenly "reality" sets in, making you wonder what's truly real at all.

If only we all knew what "real" truly meant.

Also i just have to note that the final song when Alice is driving away is PERFECTION! The best choice ever.

***SPOILERS AHEAD***

That ending. 

It went from a world run by men (Except for one poor, gorgeous soul) thinking they could control the world, But they underestimate the power of women. Whether in a collective or one on their own, Never underestimate the power of a woman.

That one final strike of the Shelley, Who was truly in charge, That made me gasp the loudest out of the whole movie. 

And even though it may not have been me weilding that blade, It made me feel powerful.

Never settle for contempt. Never settle for just fine. Never settle for anything but the life you deserve to live and the life you want to live. Whether thats a quiet life, A Travelling life, A family life, A single life, A life working your ass off and dancing all the worries away.

Never let anyone make that decision for you.

To suddenly find out that the man we've learnt to trust, learnt to love, learnt to admire has forced us into this perfect box? And the fact hes not the only man or woman that's done this. 

It's one thing to choose that life for yourself, It's another to do something out of Love and wanting the best for your relationship, But there is never an excuse to take away someones free will.

But when we found out this world isnt even REAL?! It's all in their melded HEAD?! 

When Bunny said "When you Kill someone in here, They die in real life." I could not think straight for a solid few minutes realising what that meant.

Absolutely mindfucked.

Then the ending is finally here, You feel like you're escaping this world with Alice and seeing her real future, You're on the edge of your seat awaiting to see the other side of those heavy breaths. 

But we never get to see. 

While this movie is satisfying, It doesn’t give you that final satisfaction that tips you over the edge of your choice of seat all together. But there's something special when a movie, The right movie, does that. 

Did Alice wake up in bed with her, now dead, husband beside her? Were they even married in real life? What sustanence do their bodies truly gain while away? Is what the men do everyday leave that digital world, Keep things running in the real world, then come back "home"? Did Alice go to prison for her crimes? Or did she stand in her kitchen alone once more, Freedom in her heart, Mind and soul as she moves her body along to the music without a care in the world.

What happened with all those living in that world without the will to do so? Did Shelley start a revolution? What were the consequences of this uproar in the real world? Did this digital world collapse or did those that wanted to stay, stayed and those that wanted to escape, Go?

Questions can be asked forever, But I love that everyone can interpret this ending how they want. 

Or I may have missed the point of the ending all together, Who knows! That's the incredible things about Film, Everyone has a different way of watching, experiencing and enjoying a film.

I knew this movie was going to be a psychological joyride, But I truly didnt expect such a turn of events as this.

I would love to watch this again now knowing what happens, Because I can just imagine there's so many more details that I missed.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

Stan Pines is the kind of man who can't just let you do anything without turning it into a compliment, like, every move you make, he's gotta say something. And it’s never normal. 

You could be bent over organising some random crap around the Mystery Shack and this man will make it sound like you’re posing for him. Because, yeah, you’re just trying to organize his disaster of a desk, sorting through all his crumpled receipts, ticket stubs, whatever the hell else he’s hoarded.

“Your doin’ god’s work, sugar,” and it’s not even subtle. You look over your shoulder, half expecting him to actually be paying attention to the pile of garbage you're dealing with, but no. He’s leaning against the counter, counting out cash from the register, but all you see is that smirk. The one that makes it very clear his mind ain’t on the paperwork.

“Sorting your trash is god’s work?” you quip back, rolling your eyes, but the way he’s watching you with that smirk of his, makes your cheeks flush a bit.

“You know what I mean,” Stan mutters and now he’s just full-on undressing you with his eyes, the cash in his hands forgotten. “ya ain’t gotta try so hard, baby, because ya could sit on your ass all day and I’d still think ya did somethin’ special.” and your face burns at that, but he sees it, of course, he does. Stan ain’t dumb, despite the act he puts on for tourists. He’s so much more clever than he looks, always has been. The moment he catches that excitement in your eyes, he’s grinning like he’s just won a damn lottery.

“You like that, huh? being told how good you are?”

You smirk back, trying to play it off, but your voice comes out a little breathier than you mean for it to. “all that for organizing receipts? maybe you should give me a raise.” 

Stan just laughs loudly. “yeah, sweetheart, you deserve the whole damn Shack.”

Or when, you’re just sitting at the counter, counting the cash from the register, going about your day and Stan? Well, Stan is “cleaning up,” which basically means he’s wiping the same spot for like five minutes straight while staring at you. You catch him, because he’s being too obvious with it. His eyes keep dipping to your lips every time you bite your pen and it’s distracting as hell.

“You’re too damn cute, y’know that?” he grumbles and it sounds like he’s mad about it, like you’ve done something wrong just by existing.

“You say that every day.” you shoot him a teasing smile, because yeah, this is the daily routine.

And Stan just sighs, smirking like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah, and I’ll keep sayin’ it, sorry, baby, couldn’t shut up about ya if I tried.” 

Then there’s when you’re fixing up one of the old displays, just tightening bolts or whatever and Stan’s “supervising.” Except by “supervising,” I mean, he’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching you work with that wide grin on his face, satisfied and clearly enjoying the view.

“Goddamn, honey,” he mutters. “you makin’ this place look good just by bein’ in it. Hm, maybe I should start charging you for the view.” 

You glance over your shoulder, raising your eyebrow, but smirking, because you know exactly what game he’s playing.

“What? I’d pay whatever ya want, sweetheart. You’re worth every penny.” 

Or you’re just in the kitchen, cutting up vegetables for dinner. The radio’s on low, the sun setting through the windows. Stan’s sitting at the table, pretending to read the newspaper, but every once in a while you catch him glancing over the edge, just watching you move around the kitchen. It’s quiet until he breaks it.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, y’know that?” his voice is so soft, too sincere for Stanley Pines, but when you look over, he’s still got that damn smirk on his face.

You pause, knife in hand, and raise an eyebrow. “For chopping onions?”

He chuckles, leaning back in his chair, arms behind his head. “Nah, sugar, it’s just the way you’re movin’ around in there, i dunno how to explain it, but damn, you look good in my kitchen.”

You snort, shaking your head. “I’m literally cutting onions, Stan.”

“Yeah, still sexy. That’s all I’m sayin’.”

Then there’s the mornings. You’re in the bathroom, brushing your teeth, hair a mess, wearing one of Stan’s old shirts that hangs way too big on you and he's leaning in the doorway, watching you like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. You catch his reflection in the mirror, raising an eyebrow at him, but he just shrugs with this lazy grin, continuing to admire to you.

“Can’t help it, sweetie, you look cute when you’re all domestic.”

you’re just brushing your teeth, but somehow, this man makes it sound like you’re doing the sexiest damn thing in the world

[angelyuji]

stan pines dating headcanons

18+ minors dni!!

cw // sexual content under the cut!

MY LOVE

he is sooo my man i need him so bad

very old fashioned

asked you out first not cuz he thinks he’s the hottest guy in the world. but because “you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take”

he told dipper and mabel he made that up first (he didn’t, he saw it on facebook) (they know he didn’t make it up, but they pretend they believe him)

“heya there, toots.” stan leans on your desk. you look at him, an eyebrow raised.

“hey, stan. need something?” you smile at him.

“yeah, you. me. date. whenever you’re free.” stan looks away, suddenly nervous.

“hmm, yeah, alright! i’m free tonight after work.” stan looks back at you, eyes wide in surprise, before collecting himself. he smiles.

“great, great, i’ll pick you up at 8, dollface.”

calls you pet names that were popular in the 70s/80s: dollface, sweetcheeks, baby, cutie, sugar

stan believes you deserve the world so he yk he’s treating you soooo well

he doesn’t think he deserves you, so he tries so so so hard to treat you well

he believes he’s fucked up every good thing in his life, so when you guys get together, he tries so hard to be a good partner to you

takes you out anywhere you want, even if its something he hates.

you tell him you want to see some movie in theaters, he’s gonna say no and be huffy cuz he’d rather stay home and save money. but the next day he’s gonna show up at your door with the tickets, rolling his eyes, telling you to get in the car

takes you with him to break laws and steal stuff with him

you’re a total nervous wreck but stan’s laughing and holding your hand and you know that everything’s gonna turn out alright.

he buys you clothes sometimes but he’s not up with fashion, so not usually.

any time he does, its usually because he took mabel shopping and he saw something that he thought you would like

more of a listener than a yapper like he’ll listen to you go on and on about something without stopping. you’re his personal podcast. he also loves when you watch his soap operas with him

hehehe im gonna fuck this old man so hard he’s gonna stop breaking traffic laws

sooo smooth and flirty, but he gets over obviously red in the face and its cute asf

he was kinda insecure about his body at first, but seeing how obsessed you are with him when you guys sleep together, he’s all like “heh, i still got it” and he smirks cuz he’s a little shit

likes to be on top, call him old-fashioned, but he likes looking down at you and seeing your face as he makes you feel good

he’s a man of routine, however you can convince him to do different positions or things in the bedroom because at the end of the day, you’re his everything

he goes slow, doesn’t go crazy and jackhammer into you

last time he went too fast, he threw his back out and you had to run through the shack butt-naked looking for his lumbar support pillow

he doesn’t like to talk about it, it was super embarrassing for the both of you lowkey

you were sweet about it tho, i mean, he is in his 70s and you found it sweet he almost destroyed his back to make you feel good

absolutely lovessss receiving head

he’s alsooo a giver dw, certified muncher??? or wtv they say, but he personally likes getting more

anyway back to the cutesy stuff

sometimes he asks you to help him build some stuff for the shack

you get to see stan be creative and create art, as well as fix stuff around the shack (if soos isn’t around)

a lot of duct tape related fixing, but watching him work is hot so u don’t care

i love u stanley pines i need u so bad pls pls pls ruin my life

[localcanadiancreature62]

Pines Family Personality Parallels

@misteria247 You do these gf analysis things so what do you think?.

I just noticed how similar these guys are to each other. Stan is snarky,Dipper is snarky. Mabel is selfish,Ford is selfish.

Dipper is snarky because how else are you gonna cope with a sister as crazy as Mabel?. All he can do is roll his eyes and sassily say "i told you so" to his twin's antics. While Stan is snarky because it's a part of his whole act of being mean and tough for Ford in order to take the brunt of abuse from bullies and Filbrick for him better.

Mabel is selfish,but that's only because she's a kid and she doesn't know any better. Her wants and desires are her entire world,while not knowing that they would DESTROY the world if she went through with them i.e her giving over the rift for Bill to start Weirdmaggedon. Ford is selfish because he grew up believing that he was destined for greatness,he learnt to throw his loved ones under the bus because that's the only way he could succeed and gain the recognition he believed he deserved. They both learn from this though.

AND ANOTHER THING,Mabel was bullied for being too weird and Ford was bullied for being too weird. Both are overtly enthusiastic when it comes to things that they're passionate about and WAYYY too into their own interests (Mabel with her very niche interests in romance elaborate crafts etc and Ford with his obsession with the sciences anomalies as well as other nerdy stuff),which isolated them from their more "normal" peers. While Stan and Dipper are comparatively more normal in comparison to their twins,saner too with them being the voice of reason toward their more reckless twins despite also having a tendency to join in the chaos. Mabel and Ford are horridly reckless due to their own insane ideas and projects while Stan and Dipper have to deal with them lest they get hurt. God i love this family,Alex Hirsch is brilliant. Bonus - Both Ford and Mabel have experience in having terrible obsessive exes,Gideon and Bill,except Bill is worse than Gideon.

[asiuapng]

The Heart Wants What It Doesn't Have - Stanley Pines and His Undeniable Want for People to Want Him Back

Stan's strength doesn't lie in the streets. We have a whole decade of him not catching a break, getting banned by majority of the states, and even served time more than once. No, I believe his strength is his innate interest in people.

In their childhood, Crampelter told Stan that if it weren't for the company of his brother, he'll be alone. In that instance, we immediately saw that that is his true fear. He loves people but they don't seem to love him back, so he clings on to the person he knows who does: Ford. The idea of together forever brought comfort to him. It didn't matter if he fails, so long as he is standing with someone, then he never failed to begin with.

I'd like to think that his parents knew about this. And I'd like to think that that was Filbrick's main motivation to kick him out. You saw how Stan's tough love was a direct copy from his father, and that no matter what he's been through, he can't bring himself to completely hate the man who worked so hard to provide for his family. Again, Stan loves people—he wants them around. But Filbrick had other ideas. He knew his sons love each other, believed that Ford will get over it, and knew that Stan knew that too. But that would mean he wouldn't face the consequence, and Filbrick didn't want that. He wanted Stan to actually learn from his mistakes, and that those mistakes, no matter how much of an accident it was, will always have consequences. The world is cruel, and it's the father's job to make his children be above it.

What Filbrick did made Stan's fear into a reality. Believing that will toughen him up, believing that he'll rise up, believing that he'll finally become a man. But he doesn't know his son. He didn't know that what he's done was the complete ruin of Stan. That he was the nightmare Filbrick also had trouble sleeping when he was a kid.

I believe Filbrick never hated his son, just frustrated. Caryn knows that. Why would he never wiped of '#1 Dad'? That pride and ultimate shame of being his father, no wonder he didn't attend his youngest son's funeral.

Anyway, back to Stan. After getting kicked out, he tried to put a brave face. He may be Caryn's son, but the man can only lie so much before crashing down. Everything Stan did was just to go back home. He took every shortcut he can, but he can't bring himself back at the porch empty handed. He loves his father way too much.

As years has gone by, he finds himself getting further and further away from the glass shard-ridden beach. The sounds of waterbirds are just as muffled as his judgement, and all Stan wants is to get things over with. From illegal work to downright immoral, somewhere along the lines Stan might've gave up. He allowed himself get drowned not by the sea of salt, but all of his problems. He never stood a chance; and giving up his name seems to be easier than staying alive. But no matter how many time he has betrayed himself, Stan just can't get rid of the heart he thought had died years ago. No matter how much he runs aways, the whole entirety of him just wants to stay. And his soul is stuck, anchored and haunted by the presence of a payphone.

No matter how many years has passed, there's a part of him that refused to grow up. As if he is saving it for the same boy he believes will welcome him back in open arms. Even after heart break after heartache, Stan still stands—and he's so, so tired.

When Stan got ahold of the postcard, his heart started bumping. Like he's been lifted from the depths of the watery deep, and he couldn't be any more thankful. No storm can stop him, no goons can scare him, it's just him and his second chance of together forever. But that didn't work out, and he realizes that Stan is indeed just a boy. Tried to burn his journal? What was he thinking? Maybe he did deserve everything, and another thing for not learning. What was wrong with him? And now he lost his brother again. His father was right, mistakes, no matter how accidental it may be, bears consequence, and he had become his brother's executioner.

A life a for a life. He threw everything away just to get him back. He was ready to betray himself once more. He'll stop running away, stop trying to go home, stop trying to find a spot for himself in other people's hearts. It's what killed him after all. But, life has a sense of humor to them, because it's now keeping him alive. For the first time, he hears a laugh and his heart melts. They like his jokes? Now that was something. It would've meant something, but his lifeline isn't his anymore.

Stan swore on his breath that everything he has been through will all be worth it if it meant saving the first person who was there for him. A life for a life, right?

You'd think that after forever had passed, they'll be too old for this. Turns out, all wounds are fresh if it came from the person you love the most, and Stan is reminded yet again that no matter how much of an accident a mistake is, consequence will follow. He didn't mean to endanger his family, but that doesn't matter anymore.

So yet again he has stripped, lied, and bore his heart. Yet again, another act of self-betrayal. And yet again, Stan tricks himself that this time, it will surely be worth it.

The heart wants what it doesn't have, and he'll gladly offer it to the world if it meant another chance for together forever. Stanley's love for people is what killed him. But it was also what brought him back to life.

[artsymeeshee]

The swing set

This has been something I’ve been wanting to draw for a LONG time. Based on a headcanon someone told me a long while ago of the boys going back to see their childhood swing only to see it’s broken and rundown. Stan is clearly upset but brushes it off like it’s nothing, but Ford is very determined to fix their childhood swing because they both cherish it deeply.

[thicctails]

I absolutely LOVE your Mythology Falls AU designs, but I’m curious on why you chose the ones that you did.

I'm so happy you like it! Let's go down the list, shall we?

Dipper: I love the Sphinx!Dipper from Nightrizer's take on Monster Falls, but I didn't want to go that route since these are supposed to be an original take on idea of everyone becoming creatures of myth and legend. The first reason I chose a Gryphon for our beloved Pine Tree because they represent traits like bravery, wisdom, and power. Obviously, Dipper isn't the strongest character in Gravity Falls, but when the chips are down, he isn't afraid to start beating the hell out of whatever is terrorizing him, no matter how much stronger they may be.

The second reason is because I wanted to do something with owls and cheetahs for Dipper. I chose the barn owl because their feathers actually do kinda resemble the colours I chose for Dipper's feathers, and also because they're my favourite species of owl. Both owls and cheetahs are nervous creatures with high pitched calls, which I think fits Dipper very well haha.

Mabel: While I like the idea of Mabel being some kind of water creature, I think her being a mermaid would cause quite a few issues with mobility. I went with a selkie because not only are baby seals fricken adorable (especially harp seals, which is what her coat is based on), but it also allows her to keep her iconic sweater look! Now she can be fashionable on land, and utterly adorable in the water. There's also the added risk of someone trying to take her coat, but when one of your Grunkle's is a dragon, and the other is a kelpie, most people get the hint not to try anything.

Grunkle Stan:

Haha, come on, you see it, right?

Really, though, while Stan may love money, and everyone assumes that he would be hoarding crisp dollar bills, his real horde is actually his house and all those within it. He loves his family more than life itself, and anyone who brings them harm is going to be getting a face full of flames. He's big, grumpy, and looks like he'd be nothing more than a dumb brute, but in reality he's a big softie who could outsmart most anyone who crossed him.

Ford: Kelpies look beautiful, friendly, and enticing, promising fun and adventure, if you only would come closer and climb atop their back. However, this is only a farce, and now you're being dragged down into the dark depths of a lake or river. While Ford wasn't drowning anyone as a human, he certainly dragged McGucket down a dark path, often bringing him into dangerous situations, and he almost did the same to Dipper, although not intentionally. However, they are not always bad, and if you can slip a bridle over a Kelpie's head and tame it for a time, they'll tirelessly help you with whatever you need.

They were also said to be shapeshifters, often taking the form of a man. Whether or not Ford will figure this out remains to be seen (hopefully no one sticks him in a cage and threatens to freeze him!)

Soos: The world's most perfect man deserves a nobel and revered creature. Qilins are gentle, benevolent protectors, and unlike unicorns, they really can see into someone's heart! I wanted Soos to have an overwhelmingly friendly and loved mythological form, so a Qilin seemed like a natural fit.

Wendy & McGucket: two North American cryptids, neither one having much to go on. I chose a Splintercat for Wendy, both because its a lumberjack legend, and because this lynx-like beast topples whole trees with ease by smashing into them which reminded me of Manly Dan, who is also a Splinter Cat.

As for poor old Fiddleford, I made him into a Glawackus because 1. tell me that name isn't something he'd say.

and 2. Glawackuses are said to have the ability to erase the memories of anyone who looks into their eyes. I made it so that the eye that is covered by his green eyeglass is safe to look into, while the other will cause memory loss.

[silverpiwon]

How I see p1eces based on their piwon bias:

(I don’t actually see every person who like a specific member in any specific way. This is just for fun and showing some associations I have with p1eces. Also I didn’t talk about their skills because I think every p1ece is obsessed with the members abilities so there’s so need to talk about them)

☆ Theo stans - very funny (especially the Korean fans), super chill but secretely pining over him. Act like they’re not delulu but they are. They would be the people who try being mysterious and fail. They’re not the loudest in the fandom but are very stable (idk why but it made me thing of a pillar that keeps the fandom up). Might skew a bit older than other p1eces? The kind of people who have a job and taxes to pay.

☆ Keeho stans - funny and loud but can be a little annoying. Strongly opinionated but in a positive way where they’re not afraid to speak up and take up space. They might have a good eye for fashion and aesthetics. Don’t always want to date Keeho and see him as a bestie a lot of times. They help the fandom grow with their loudness and passion/engagement.

☆ Jiung stans - very dedicated and supportive. They don’t play about Jiung to the point where it’s a little too much sometimes. Most likely introverted. Possibly good at organising stuff if they have to. Can be a bit intense but rarely have reasons to be. Value authenticity even if the reality pushes others away and prefer it more than perfection.

☆ Intak stans - very passionate and the kind of people who go all in into something. I imagine Intak stans as the people who would giggle and kick their feet with their friends when he does anything cool or attractive. Maybe a little boy-crazy? They’re generally not too jealous and want to share their Intak joy with others.

☆ Soul stans - people who want to emulate his alien swag so badly. They don’t even get amused (or confused) by what he does because they simply understand him. Would move mountains if it meant keeping him happy but also would cry if you told them one mean word. Might be idealistic and the kind of people who look at the big picture.

☆ Jongseob stans - either adults who think he’s super smart and talented and cool and cute and he deserves everything good in this world, or teenagers who have their whole future planned with him. Very down to earth and full of true appreciation for him. Old pictures and videos of jongseob might make them cry. On a mission to let everybody know how talented he is.

[yall-hate-kids-tourney]

Round 4: Mabel Pines (Gravity Falls) vs. Amane Momose (MILGRAM)

Propaganda below the cut

Mabel Pines (12):

I literally saw a tiktok today about how Mabel is a bad person. She’s 12! Like yes, she has made some mistakes and bad choices, but so has everyone else. And I never see any of the other characters in the show criticized the way she is. Everyone in the show has made mistakes (Grunkle Stan commits crimes practically every episode ffs) but because Mabel is a 12 year old girl and acts like it, she gets the most hate. Mabel deserves to be loved 🩷

----

girl gets so much flack for being... immature and kind of selfish at age 12? like she had whole video essays made on why she is a horrible person who deserves punishment. god forbid girls be silly

----

!!! Spoilers for Gravity Falls last 5 episodes !!!

This has gone down a lot but when the Weirdmaggedon arc was happening, the finale of the series, a big part of the fandom started hating Mabel because she accidentally caused the Weirdmaggedon (basically an apocalypse + bizarre shit like the water tower becoming an eight-legged monster with a giant mouth).

For context, in the episode that starts this arc, "Dipper and Mabel vs The Future", Mabel is really excited to the end of their summer vacation at Grunkle Stan's house, since it will be her and Dipper's 13th birthday and they will enter high school (her idea of high school of course coming from teen movies). But then this whole idea starts to shatter when Wendy tells her that high school isn't like a Disney musical, but it's okay, she will get through this since she will be with Dipper, her twin brother...

Except, that Dipper receives an invitation by Grunkle Stan's scientist brother Ford to become his apprentice after summer ends, staying in Gravity Falls, without Mabel. When she discovers it, she gets really mad at him and in a fit of rage, she accidentally picks Dipper's bag instead of hers and runs off to the woods.

When she gets there, Blendin, a time-travelling friend of theirs finds her and tells her that he has a way of making her brother stay with her, and make the summer take a little more to end, and that he just needed a little thing that Dipper has in his bag. That thing is a dimensional rift that Dipper and Ford contained to not cause the Weirdmaggedon, but Mabel didn't knew about that and gives it to Blendin. Blendin then breaks it and it's revealed that Bill Cipher was controlling Blendin to get the rift and release the Weirdmaggedon. He then traps Mabel in a bubble, starting the final arc of the series.

So, a few episodes later, that bubble she's in is revealed to be a world of fantasy that she controls, and that she didn't want to leave that world, as she was scared of growing up etc.

Context given, A LOT OF PEOPLE HATED HER FOR THIS. Suddenly people started seeing Mabel as just a selfish girl who wanted things only her way, when she was only a 12-year-old scared of growing up without her twin brother (they do end up going back together at the end but still).

The worst part is that apparently the people behind it took note of this, and on the comics that where released after the finale, she is a selfish spoiled brat. I haven't read the comics though so I'm going off what some people said about it.

Amane Momose (12):

Amane was voted guilty in the first trial so that she would acknowledge her guilt. It backfired, and now she’s considered a threat. Well, everyone is a threat, but nobody’s threat level has been as heavily discussed and debated as hers. Consider the next prisoner in line, Mikoto. He’s objectively more dangerous and cannot be restrained. He beat up the guard in trial 1, and he was able to hold his own when the other guilty prisoners were attacked. But a good incentive to forgive him is so that he will calm down. You know what? That’s a good incentive to forgive Amane too! But she *can* be restrained, so a good portion of the discussion went into how she should be voted guilty so she *will* be restrained and not a threat. Since her vote was a near 50/50, of course a good chunk of the voters expressed dissatisfaction with her forgiven verdict. Some are already planning to vote her guilty for trial 3, calling her a “lost cause”. She hasn’t even done any concrete harm yet. Hold the pitchforks until she actually causes harm, please? And what if she *was* voted guilty in trial 2? We’ve been warned that she will continue to deny our judgement. A second guilty verdict won’t make her better either, and then what? She’d be called a “lost cause” as well. There is no winning with her.

----

Where do I even start? So first of all she’s an cult child who was physically and mentally abused and tortured by her parents and then (presumably) murdered her mother after her mother killed a cat that she took care of.

Now everyone in Milgram is a murderer but when Amane came and her MV showed her murder and circumstance in an admittedly highly fictionalized depiction of it the audience decided to…repeat the cycle of abuse!

She was voted guilty for the main reason of “teaching her” and helping her “realize that she was abused.” I would like to note that this tough love approach is something her parents utilized against her. “We are only doing this to help you.”

So the audience replicates Amane’s abusers and repeats the cycle of abuse and that’s pretty shitty but it isn’t exactly “Fuck Em Kids” level.

And then Trial 2 happened. Cause Amane is bitter and angry and horrifically traumatized so she acts aggressive and hostile. Especially towards another prisoner.

Now, again, everyone here is a fucking murderer (of atleast could be constructed as one) These people being able to Harm is a core concept of this series.

Yet for some reason it feels like people treat Amane as a “delusional creepy kid who wants to kill people” which completly takes away the nuance of her character. She does have the capacity to harm! Everyone here does! She’s not Uniquly Dangerous! She just has a Reason to be Dangerous. A Reason we GAVE HER by REPEATING THE CYCLE OF ABUSE.

In short: In a series full of Murderers I’m honestly a bit pissed that the 12 year old abuse victim is the one who’s treated like the guy from American Pyscho.

----

TL;DR: "We metavoted this abused, indoctrinated child guilty in trial 1, but it didn't work. Now she is a threat to three grown adults: one who is fully free and two whom she has been shown to get along with. Please metavote her guilty again so she will be restrained and unable to attack them, even though that means subjecting her to further psychological torture." Amane Momose is the youngest of ten murderers, prisoners of Milgram who are to be judged innocent (forgiven) or guilty (unforgiven). In the first interrogation (voice drama), she said that what she did was in line with her religion's doctrines. If we judged her the "wrong way", she said she will just deny the verdict. Combining the voice drama and music video, you could piece together that she was raised in a cult and abused, even though she is cheerful and downplays her pain. She never shows *who* she killed, only *why* she did. After the first day of her vote, she was 81% innocent, but this wouldn't last the whole three months. Many people voted her guilty so she would "see her sins", part of the practice commonly known as "metavoting". Her innocent percentage rapidly decreased, and she hit guilty in the last 15 days, finishing at 51% guilty. At the end of the first trial, Jackalope (who is something like a host) went over all the prisoners' verdicts and commented on the general reasoning. When he got to Amane, he *laughed* at the audience for voting that way to make her realize her sins. Trial 2 rolled around, and it was revealed that Amane's victim was her abuser. On day one, she was at 74% innocent. Seems like a cut-and-dry case now, right? Well... in the intermission, two of the prisoners (Fuuta and Mahiru) were badly beaten up and became reliant on the care of Shidou, a doctor. Amane became hostile to Shidou because what he was doing was against her beliefs. She visited all three of them on their birthdays to convince them to change their ways. She seems to be especially close to Fuuta, who is now murmuring about salvation. Guilty prisoners are psychologically tortured, forced to listen to voices that reject their beliefs. Fuuta and Mahiru both say that the mental strain is worse than their physical injuries. But Amane, who also looks worse for wear, was thrown under the bus because she isn't injured and is considered a physical threat to them (never mind that she gets along with them). She's considered a threat to Shidou, a grown man who is twice her size and fully free, while she is partially restricted by the long sleeves in her trial 2 uniform. She might indoctrinate Fuuta even though, in a prison of ten people and one guard, she's the only voice of her cult. Fortunately, she got a break. Her vote was falling at a similar rate to the first trial. But this time, it stabilized at 51% innocent, 12 days before the end of her vote. But there's no way this is over.

[lkfarrout]

HR (Stan x fem!Reader)

Summary: you decide to give your boss a little scare

Warnings: playful flirting, nothing overtly sexual

"Did you see what Stan was wearing yesterday? That open collar..."

"Ew! He's like my grandpa. Why would you even say that?" Wendy made a fake gagging sound. You enjoyed having her as a coworker, despite sometimes forgetting she was nearly ten years younger than you.

You'd started working at the Mystery Shack in the spring, while Wendy was still in school, and when summer began, you were grateful to finally have someone to talk to when things were slow in the giftshop. Her and Dipper even invited you onto the roof occasionally. It was nice to have someone to confide in about your crush, too, even if she pretended it was super gross.

"Why don't you ask him out already? He'll say yes, I mean he stares at you constantly." She was right - the world's darkest pair of sunglasses couldn't hide Stan's obvious gaze over your figure as you stocked the shelves every day. Not to mention calling you "doll" any chance he got. But until now, you'd pretended to be blissfully unaware, biding your time patietly.

"Oh, I will," you assurred Wendy, "but I'm gonna give him hell first. I got a plan, just wait."

---

"Yeah, and when you're done with that, there's a leak in the roof you can look at." Stan's gruff voice rang out through the gift shop as he and Soos entered.

"On it, boss," Soos saluted Stan before approaching the checkout desk, "What's up dudes?"

"Hey Soos," you pretended not to notice Stan behind him, "do you know who's in charge of HR here? Is it you?" You felt a little bad roping the ever-innocent Soos into your mischief, but the suddenly panicked look on Stan's face was worth it.

Soos began to repond, "Gee, I guess I've been here the longest, so--"

Stan cut him off, nudging Soos to the side and placing his palms on the counter. He leaned close and said, "You're lookin' at HR." He squinted his eyes suspiciously, "Why d'ya ask?"

"Oh its nothing, just" you put on your best poker face and shrugged, "maybe I need to report some inappropriate behavior."

Wendy hid her face in her comic book to stop herself from laughing, but poor Soos looked very concerned. You prayed Wendy had the heart to explain the ruse to him once you and Stan were out of the room. At your words, Stan just sighed and gestered toward his office.

Once inside, he removed his fez, sat on the edge of the desk, and rubbed the bridge of his nose under his glasses, "Look, doll, I'll be straight with you. You do good work, but Wendy 'n Soos have been here a whole lot longer and I have a hard time believing either of them would--"

"My issue isn't with them." You crossed your arms and he raised an eyebrow at you as you continued, "I should slap you, the way you gawk at me all day. And all those pet names? You must think I'm stupid."

Stan didn't look as shocked as you'd hoped. Instead he chuckled with the corner of his mouth and got to his feet.

"Wouldn't be the first time." He said. His arms hung at his sides. He closed his eyes and turned his head. His shoulders and neck tensed and he braced for the impact.

Suddenly your palms were sweaty, you hadn't expected this. Was he actually going to let you slap him?

After a moment, he partially opened one eye, "Well, get it over with already."

"Mr. Pines... I'm not gonna slap you."

His body relaxed and he shrugged, "I 'preciate that, but I'm pretty sure I deserve it this time."

You smirked at him, "I won't slap you, but only because I'm afraid you'd like it."

Stan chuckled a bit, but you could tell you'd flustered him. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the floor.

"Look doll--" he coughed, catching himself, "look, I'm sorry if I made ya uncomfortable, I promise I'll stop. But, if you could just keep this between us..."

"An apology isn't good enough. I'd hate to see your good reputation ruined, Mr. Pines."

Stan sighed and headed for the chair behind his desk. As he sat down he muttered, "Figured. You always were a fiesty one." He started rummaging through a drawer in the desk.

"Alright, what do ya want, a raise?" He pulled out the paperwork he was looking for and slid it towards you. You just shook your head at him.

Defeated, he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

"Okay, this aint the first time I've been blackmailed. What'll buy your silence?"

At this point you couldn't hide your smile. You approached the desk and leaned over, your low-cut top perfectly showing off your cleavage in front of him. His eyes darted to the corner of the ceiling and he swallowed.

"Stan," it was the first time you'd ever used his first name in front of him, "we both know what I really want isn't silence."

He stole a few quick glances at you before studying the ceiling again. "What's your point?"

"I want you to take me out to dinner."

He did a touble-take and sat straight up in his chair, "Come again?"

"I like the attention, Stan," you laughed at him, "but I wasn't gonna give you what you wanted without a good scare first." You shot him a wink across the desk.

Stan's cheeks flooded pink, he was speechless.

You prodded him, "Well, did I? Scare you?"

Stan dramatically clutched his chest, "Ya nearly put me in an early grave, doll."

He stood and moved back to your side of the desk with a chuckle. "Was Wendy in on this?"

"Oh, of course."

With one arm, Stan grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him, looking deeply into your eyes, "You make a pretty good con, y'know." His free hand found its way to your jaw and he pulled you into an energetic kiss that lasted several wonderful seconds.

As he pulled away, you flashed him a devilish smile, "I learned from the best."

I'm not the most proud of this fic, quality-wise, but it's been sitting finished in my drafts so I might as well post it. I will say this is not very ethical but it's just meant to be a fun story, don't take it too seriously

[darlingdaisyfarm]

a small gift

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ford frowned. "Out? To where exactly?"

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I’ve seen stranger things, Stanley."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wow.”

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

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

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

Diamonds, brilliant, and Bel Air now,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You moved into the next verse.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ford blinked in shock. “Wait— what?”

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

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

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

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

And then they reached the dressing room.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch.21

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here.

The scene between Ch.20 and Ch.21 (the immediate result of Ford seeing Stans death, and Bills reveal) was not shown on purpose. Because it was a very emotionally intimate affair. It's up to the readers' interpretation how Ford and Stan reacted after they left the dreamscape. I will tell you this time Ford was HONEST-honest, like he even told him the truth about Bill and that's how Stan came back.

Bill's Nicknames:

Ford: Fordsy, Sixer, IQ

Stan: Slick, (ex)Conman, PTSD Barnum

Fiddleford: (The) Hick, Glasses, McSuckit

Stan’s Nicknames:

Ford: PhD, Doc, any synonym for the word ‘crazy’

Fiddleford: Specs, Stretch, F

Bill: Lashes, (One-Eyed) Demon, (The) Triangle

“(italics)” Indicates that the speaker is speaking in Spanish (unless stated otherwise). This author only knows English, and I did not want to misrepresent Spanish by using Google Translate.

When people are in the dreamscape together, their dialogue is written normally. But if Bill and Ford are communicating in Fords head without the mindscape, Bills dialogue is in "italics", and Fords dialogue is in 'apostrophes and italics' like thoughts are. Memories are written entirely in italics.

First - Prev - Next

CH.21

RING

RING

CLICK

“Hello, Dr. McGucket speaking.”

“Is it double-doctor yet, F?”

“Well I’ll be! It’s good to hear from the case study himself. How you doin’ this evening, Stan?”

“I’m doing pretty great actually, hiding out from d- Stanford.”

“Still having trouble using real names, darlin?”

“I know now he’s my real, actual, twin. But… I dunno specs, it’s hard to see myself as his brother; there’s still a lot of stuff I don’t remember.”

“Still uncoverin’ small memories' day-by-day?”

“Yeah, mostly going through childhood stuff now… still having trouble with his- our, parents faces. Feelings get too big for my brain to handle with that subject.”

“I'm still beside myself that the key to helping you uncover your lost memories was Stanford’s meditative exercises. The answer was right in front of us the whole time!”

“...Yea’.”

“Stan, have you… thought about reporting yourself as alive to the authorities? I know it’s been over a year since that car accident, but there hadn’t been a body…”

“Not yet… I got a lot of enemies, stretch. I don’t wanna bring all that trouble to Gravity Falls, ya know?”

“Yeah, you bring enough trouble all on your own.”

“Were you always such a smartass, McGucket?”

“I usually hear ‘sassy’.”

“Heh. I’d believe it. By the way, did your beard like the biker chick I sent her way?”

“You can say 'wife' Stan, you don’t have to say beard every time just because we’re- oh that don’t matter none right now. I have half a mind to cane your hands after that disaster.”

“Disaster? Jimmy told me they had a great time!”

“... Stan, when you described this woman to us, you said she was ‘extremely hot, out of this world, and holds other people accountable’.”

“Was I wrong?”

“You didn’t tell us she was a partially undead psychopomp who can transform into a flaming skeleton, and drags people down the fiery yonder under the weight of their sins!”

“I’m not hearing the part where I was wrong.”

“It wasn’t easy explaining to Tater where Old Man Jenkins went…”

“Trust me, if he got dragged ‘down’ he deserved it. Jimmy tried that on me once, and Hell decided I wasn’t bad enough. But hey, sounds like you’ve been having more fun than me.”

“And what have you and Stanford been up to?”

“He’s a little pissy right now.”

“What did you do?”

“Why do you always think I did something?”

“...”

“Point taken. Every time I go into town I pretend to be him, right? Well, the townsfolk of Gravity Falls don’t just think he’s a menace, they also see him as some kind of cryptid too. They’re always wanting to check out his creepy cabin in the woods and whatever freaky science stuff he has lying around.”

“Okay…”

“I may have let some people look at his paranormal stuff while he was asleep in his lab. For a price, of course.”

“Stan!”

“What? It’s not like he’s patenting anything right now, and the grant moneys gonna run out eventually. Especially with the late fee’s he’s accrued over the years. He wants me to stay here, but keeps shooting down my attempts at contributing.”

“Your last attempt at contributing was raiding Mayor Befufftlefumpter’s estate and stealing a Fabergé egg.”

“That was honestly more for me. I’m still mad about him triple-stabbing me when I tried mugging him months ago. That old codger has more ruthlessness than you’d think.”

“Well, you ain't goin' on more revenge quests when I come back down in three days are you? Can you not do that, for me?”

“Fine, I promise; no vengeance plots anywhere in this house.”

(...)

“Stanford’s Log: Vengeance Plot number fifteen.”

“Bill, what are you going on about this time?”

“Just narrating your elaborate revenge scheme against that list of people who tried to kill your brother.”

“Please refrain, my muse.”

“Ah, no fun Fordsy. So, which poor sap are you creating brutal nightmares for this time?”

“Did you finally find that monster from the homeless shelter?”

“I had to jump around the minds of a few vagrants, cops, and humanitarian workers to piece the details together, but it looks like someone already beat you to the punch Sixer. That guy was shanked to death in an alleyway seven years ago over a bag of coarse-grain Himalayan pink salt he thought was crystal meth.”

“I was looking forward to that one… He deserved worse.”

“Aww, don’t be too disappointed Sixer. This next guy is the one who locked him in the trunk of a car and dropped it into a reservoir. Ironically, he has a fear of small spaces and the dark! Also, public speaking. I think you have a fair bit to work with there.”

“Well then. Project me into his mind, and I’ll be sure to be creative.”

(...)

“For the short amount of time you’ve been able to manifest yourself here, you have a surprisingly high degree of control over your mindscape.”

“All ya need is a little imagination PhD, you should try it sometimes.”

“I will stick to what is tried and true.”

“Hey, when am I gonna be able to jump around headspaces like you?”

“I’m afraid it is not an ability that can be learned or taught, manipulating your own mindscape is something you can learn and train in, or have a natural aptitude for like yourself or our mother. The reason I’m able to traverse the mindscape of others is because of my deal with-”

“Meeee!”

“Oh fuck! What are you doing here, ya One-Eyed Demon? I told you you’re not welcome here.”

“Well hello to you too, slick. That’s some way to greet your saviour.”

“If you’re a saviour, I’m Madeline Kahn.”

“Besides; you know good ole’ Fordsy can’t go anywhere without me. We’re partners; through all of time, space, and creepy shipping art.”

“Stanley, Bill, please. Do not make this dream session another fight.”

“I’m watching you, Triangle.”

“Get your two-eyed privilege out of my vertices, ex-con man.”

“Enough. Stanley, as far as your memories go this may be a painful topic, but somebody had to have tampered with your car. Do you have any idea who would’ve done that?”

“Lots of people have tried to kill me so I can’t really think of anyone specifically who stands out. As far as hating me the most goes, it's a tie between the IRS and the City of Tijuana.”

“...Why does the City of Tijuana hold such contempt for you?”

“I was banned from there after they figured out the ‘corn tortillas’ I was selling were really just flour tortillas I mixed with sand.”

“...You are being serious, right now?”

“Mhmm.”

“There is an entire city’s worth of people in Mexico who would go out of their way to tamper with your vehicle and have you killed just because you were selling them flour tortillas and telling them they were corn tortillas?”

“I wouldn’t say the whole city, just their judicial department, police force, a dozen clubs, at least seven gangs, a prison, and this one guy who sold even worse tortillas.”

“They should have drawn and quartered him.”

“Bill!”

“Some crimes just can’t be forgiven, Fordsy.”

(...)

“Saddle up, Stan.”

“I’ve never used one of these, Jimmy…”

“Better learn quick, before the Taxman gets you first, (brother).”

“How old were you when this happened, Stanley?”

“Oh, god, I don’t really remember. Eighteen? Nineteen? I wasn’t new-new to the streets, but I was pretty fresh compared to the rest of the biker gang.”

“You were still a teenager, and she just handed you a shotgun?”

CLICK-CLICK

“I’ll put ya inta the fuckin’ ground!”

“Are you?”

“I-I…”

“Are you really going to shoot me, son?”

“Yeah!”

“Well do it then, shoot me.”

“... Oh for fucks-”

CRACK

“Didja shoot him, Stan?”

“...Yeah, I killed him. He’s dead.”

“Good, let’s get the fuck out of here, (run quickly)!”

“You didn’t shoot him?”

“Naw, just cracked him with the buttstock… I never killed nobody, doc. I was always kinda soft compared to the other guys, ya know?”

“I wouldn’t say that makes you soft, it’s admirable that despite everything, there were lines you wouldn’t cross. And, about that taxman…”

“Yeah I dunno what shit the IRS is on, and it didn’t matter what name I was using, they always managed to find me.”

“That agent you just spared went to your ‘funeral’.”

“I’m not surprised, he was always telling me that it wasn’t over.”

(...)

KNOCKKNOCKKNOCK

“Oh no, holy shit, we need to leave.”

“Stanley, what are you talking about?”

“I know that knock, that’s the cops. Doc, we gotta run!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, why in the right mind would-”

CRASH

“STANFORD FILBRICK PINES THIS IS THE TIME PARADOX AVOIDANCE ENFORCEMENT SQUADRON AND BY THE ORDER OF TIME BABY YOU ARE WANTED UNDER SUSPICION OF MEMORY TRESPASSING, RECKLESS PERCEPTION DILATION, AND UNLICENSED NIGHTMARE FUELING.”

“...Stay here, Stanley. I’m going to see what it is they want.”

“Wait-.”

“Stay here, don’t follow me.”

“...Fine.”

“This is Dr. Stanford Pines. How can I help you?

“Dr. Pines, I am Agent Lolph and this is my partner, Agent Dundgren. We are agents under the cosmic being known as Time Baby, and you are under arrest for suspicion in extradimensional criminal affairs. ”

‘Cipher, can they do this?’

“Yes, cosmic authorities are beyond the need for warrants.”

‘Is there anything I can do?’

“Say ‘I invoke Globnar’.”

“What is that?”

‘Just do it, Fordsy. I can't represent you in transdimensional court, and you really don't want me to.’

“Does The Accused have anything to say? Anything you say can and already has been used against you in future court.”

“I invoke Globnar.”

“Are you challenging us to Globnar?”

“Say yes. To avoid charges.”

“Yes. To clear the accusations against me.”

“So be it. May Time Baby have mercy on your soul. You have 48 hours to prepare.”

(...)

“Ya telling me you breaking into peoples mind has been a real, cosmic level crime this whole time?!”

“Yes… More specifically, doing so without permission. I had your consent to access your dreamscape, so that instance wasn’t illegal.”

“God, PhD, how many brains have you been breaking and entering?”

“Details are not important.”

“And what did Lashes tell you about this… Glob thing?”

“It is gladiatorial time combat, in which tributes can either find justice, or face the whims of the winner.”

“So you’re going to fight those guys?”

“That might be one of the challenges, there are several. It is a point-based system.”

“Let me go with you.”

“Absolutely not, Stanley! I will not subject you to the consequences of-.”

“Come on, doc. There’s two of them, and I’ve dealt with all kinds of pigs before; foreign, domestic, transdimensional, and space-faring.”

“No. That’s my final answer. Do not bring this up again. I will be fine.”

(...)

“Hey Doc, I’m back from the- what’s with that get up?”

“You told me the multiverse was cold and dry.”

“So you needed a turtleneck, scarf, and ski goggles?”

“Yes.”

“And what’s with the belt around your chest?”

“What if I need to sling something like a gun onto my back?”

“And it’s all black because…?”

“I don’t need to hear fashion judgement from you when your knit cap is covering almost all of your head.”

“I was pretending to be you in town again, genius. Is this… this how you’re preparing for that Nobglar thing?”

“Globnar, Stanley. They’ll be here in twenty minutes… are you going to try to convince me to bring you along again?”

“Would it work if I did?”

“No.”

“Figured as much. Before you go, can I at least wish you luck?”

“... I’d appreciate that.”

"High six?”

“High six.”

CLICK

*Looks down and see’s Stan jabbed him in the abdomen with the tranquilizing gun. Looks back up at Stan. Looks back down at the gun slightly longer. Then looks back up at Stan again.*

“I’m sorry, Stanford.”

*Stan rips off his beanie. His hair’s been cut to the same length as Fords*

“But this is for your own good.”

To be continued…

[underfaller]

in his house of mind, dead cipher waits dreaming

Chapter 1: On Your Mind Rating: T Synopsis:

You really think you won that day/You packed your bags and sailed away/You think you left your past behind/But trust me/I'm still on your mind

A year has passed since Weirdmaggedon and the Pines family, victorious in the end, are happier than ever. Stan and Ford are adventuring at sea, making up for lost time. Dipper and Mabel are now freshmen and are ready to take on high school-- geometry, bullies, (student eating?) clubs, and all! However, things take a turn for the worst when Dipper and Mabel receive of horrific message from Ford:

Bill is back.

You wrote a page about me in my own book so allow me to make this tiny addendum over your dull ramblings. 

Stanley Pines,

I've been on your mind. 

Are you surprised to see me? You must be confused so allow me to explain, slowly, in small words: 

If memories could return so easily, why couldn’t I? 

You really thought you won that day, huh? It’s painfully pathetic how naive you are. 

Aw, don’t look so distraught! You can’t have your cake and eat it too, Stanley. You may have lied and cheated to get your way for your whole life, but you can’t elude simple logic-- no matter how desperately you try! 

Still there? Of course you are! There’s not much else for me to say and I’ve got a very busy schedule ahead of me so I suppose I’ll end things here. However, before I leave you to the endless void and your growing insanity, I’ll let you in on a little secret-- Don’t ever say I’m not a generous guy!

Here it is: 

I see myself in you.  And that’s not because I’m literally possessing your worthless skin puppet. You and I are quite similar-- always scheming, constantly caught in our own web of lies, conning the world until we can’t tell what’s real and what’s fake anymore. A spectacular guy like myself should be thrilled at our similarities! I mean, the more “me” in the universe, the better, right? 

We should be getting along better than bleach and ammonia! 

…But I’m not thrilled. Far from it. Am I upset? Upset would be an understatement. No, your dimension’s vernacular can’t even begin to describe my resentment of you. 

I hate you, Stanley. I detest you. I despise you.

I can still see through the eyes of everyone I’ve ever possessed. I’ve seen your past, your present, and your very near end. You’ve spent your whole life screwing up and you will die no differently. You’re a loser. A blight on this already tedious world. A waste of space. You shouldn’t exist. 

So how? 

So how could you have beaten me? How could a lowlife, fat-headed, braindead, absolute failure of an existence possibly beat me? 

…And how do you have everything that I don’t have? 

Your dimension is safe, drifting peacefully in chaotic, infinite chaos while mine has been obliterated, erased from existence as we know it. Even the last atoms of my universe are gone-- decimated by your brother during our little Weirdmageddon spat. 

You’ve done nothing to contribute to your world and yet, when I only wanted them to see the stars, I was met with ultimate destruction. 

How is that fair? 

Your brother adores you. Your brother once adored me too. Has he ever looked upon you with pure, unadulterated hatred? We both ruined his life but only one of us is forgiven.  

And your mother. Your mother still thinks of you. She keeps your photo on her bedside table. She looks at them every night. She misses you. 

My mother is dead. 

How is that fair? 

Now I am you and you are me but why do only you are rewarded. Why is it that I get nothing? What makes you so special? 

I am the only one who sees you for what you are and I hate you. I hate every molecule of your being. I hate everything you have that I don’t. I hate, hate, HATE you, Stanley Pines. 

You don’t deserve what you were given. You aren’t worth even a sliver of it. 

So I’m going to take it all away-- Take what’s rightfully mine. There’s nothing you can do. No more cheap tricks, no more cons, no more last minute plans-- your luck has run out. Your time in the spotlight is over-- Time to show you how a real star performs. 

Better luck next time, bootleg Sixer.

When you awake, you will find yourself in utter, pitch black darkness. You will soon realize that your arms and legs paralyzed, unable to even struggle. You’ll be suspended in a limbo where you are neither awake nor asleep. 

Can you fathom my pain after you erased me? Can you imagine the torture? Your smooth brain would implode on itself if you even tried to grasp it-- And now you will experience it yourself. 

How do you like that, huh? 

HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT? 

You enjoyed your little victory but in the end, it’s me who won. 

Ha! Ha! Ha! 

Goodbye, Stanley Pines, and good riddance. Your pitiful existence will not be missed. 

Don’t worry too much, I’ll take good care of your family. 

It seems like an eternity since we've returned to sea but the Stan-o-War II is back. We left Portland at 21:00 and headed to Point Nemo. My research has led me to believe that the pole of inaccessibility is a magnet for weirdness, much like Gravity Falls-- There may even be ruins of a long lost civilization in its underwater bowels. I would like to test my hypothesis. Stan is fine with our expedition as long as there are “hot Atlantis chicks” to flirt with. I will keep his sentiment in mind. 

We’ve grown closer this year than we have in three decades. It’s… nice to be back with him. 

Despite my excitement for our adventures, I enjoyed our short break in Gravity Falls. It's always a delight when the children come to visit. Everytime I see Mabel, I swear she's grown at least an inch taller. At this rate, she'll be towering over me! Dipper is growing into a bright, young man-- it is impossible for me not to notice our similarities when I was his age. He recently mentioned that he plans to take honors geometry next year. I replied that if he ever needs tutoring then his ol’ Grunkle Ford is more than happy to help. 

It's been almost a full year since Weirdmageddon yet I still occasionally think of Bill. I am prone to anxiety and occasionally find myself irrationally fearing his return. That's impossible, though. I remind myself of that more times than I care to admit. Bill is gone and the moss covered statue in the forest proves it. We erased him. He can't hurt me anymore-- and he certainly cannot hurt my family. 

Stanford closes his journal, before blowing out a flickering candle and standing up, yawning. He looks at his watch. 3:33 AM. Old habits die hard and Ford still finds himself procrastinating on sleep, slightly fearing what will happen when he loses consciousness. He sighs, pushing past memories from his weary mind.. He'll need at least two cups of black coffee tomorrow morning if he has any hope of getting up on time. 

As Ford lays in his rickety cot, the Stan-o-War II shudders and creaks as it rocks against rolling waves. Usually, the familiar sounds of the boat lull Ford to sleep, but tonight, they keep him up, tossing and turning, each noise seeming to echo ten times over. 

It is one of those nights. 

Ford looks up at the ceiling, frowning. He used to have fantastic, imaginative dreams. After Weirdmageddon, however, his resting mind is always empty, dark like the ocean during a new moon. He misses dreaming. 

Though, Ford should be grateful-- there are much worse alternatives to a dreamless sleep. 

In the distance, Ford hears the rumblings of thunder. A summer storm isn't uncommon and it certainly isn't the ship's first experience with unsavory weather but for some reason, Ford feels uneasy. Perhaps he should sleep in the bridge tonight, just in case something goes awry. 

Ford’s thoughts are interrupted when his cabin door creaks open slightly. Ford grins, aware of his twin’s antics. 

“Very funny Stan. Aren’t you a little too old to be afraid of thunderstorms?” 

Familiar, cackling laughter rings across the room. 

“Oh Sixer, I’m not the one scared right now!” 

It can't be. 

Time stops. Stanford violently sits up, scanning the seemingly empty room. 

Click. 

Lightning cracks. Stan is sitting atop his brother, shotgun pressed against Ford's chin. Ford looks up in horror seeing Stan’s eyes bright yellow and glowing in the darkness. 

“Not so fast, unless you want your pretty brains all over the headboard,” Bill teases. He examines the shotgun in his hands. “Can you believe the old guy sleeps with this thing? Talk about a safety hazard!”

Ford freezes, his blood turning to ice. He can hear his heartbeat racing in his ears. His usually rapid firing mind has slowed to a complete standstill in his terror. His mouth is dry as he struggles to speak. 

He must have fallen asleep. He’s sleeping, he’s sleeping, he’s sleeping-

“This is a dream,” Ford stammers. “You’re not real; you’re dead-” 

Stanford Pines does not dream.

Bill howls with laughter. As he does, Stan's mouth contorts into an unnaturally large grin. 

“Oh Sixer! You can’t kill an idea or a god and certainly not both!” Bill replies. He giggles. “Did you miss me?”

Ford tries to answer but Bill cuts him off. 

“Oh, I already know your answer-- of course you missed me!” Bill chatters on. “And now that your inferior twin is outta the way we can head back to Gravity Falls and finish what we started!”

“Why did you come back?” Ford says through grit teeth. “Your henchmen are gone, the rift is sealed-- there’s nothing left for you here, Bill.” 

“Nothing left for me, hahaha!” Bill shakes his head, smirking. “Man, that idiot's stupidity is rubbing off on you! Have you forgotten?” 

Ford doesn’t answer. Bill leans closer, lowering his voice to a drawl. 

“We made a deal, you and I. You’re my partner from now till the end of time.”

Ford looks into his brother’s yellow eyes and is filled with fury. Seeing Bill using his twin like this while having the audacity to expect him to continue their partnership-- it’s laughably, outrageously, enraging. Ford can’t help but give a low chuckle before glaring at the demon. 

“Go fuck yourself, Bill.” 

Lightning flashes once more, illuminating the two adversaries. Bill sighs, clicking his tongue. 

“For some reason, I knew you’d say that.” 

Bill grips the shotgun and shoves the barrel down Ford's throat. Ford’s eyes widen, threatening to pop out of his skull, and he gags, tasting metal and sulfur. Bill grins, obviously amused by Ford’s discomfort. 

“Well, if you’re not going to be of use then you can join the rest of your family in the afterlife.” 

The kids. He’s going to come for the kids. 

Bill pulls the trigger. 

Click. 

Silence.

“Seriously? Who keeps an unloaded gun by their side!” Bill shouts. 

It seems his luck hasn’t completely run out. Now, it’s Ford’s turn to slightly grin. He looks up at Bill.

“Alright, my turn.” 

Sorry Bro. 

Stanford lifts his right leg up and kicks Bill in the balls. Hard. Bill cries out in pain and keels over, clutching between his legs. 

“Goddamnit! Curse human body weaknesses!” He yells.

Ford roughly pushes Bill off him and races out of the room, making a break for the bridge. The storm is much closer than he initially thought, violently rocking the tiny vessel against angry waters. 

I have to warn Dipper and Mabel before it’s too late. 

Ford whips around the corner, jumping into the bridge. He quickly locks the metal latch behind him and barricades the door with a piece of wood lying to the side. That’ll stall Bill just enough. He rips open drawer after drawer until he finds a small handgun. This one is certainly loaded-- Stanford always made sure his weapons were. He hesitates at the thought of potentially wounding his brother. 

Anything to stop Bill. 

Stanford checks the ship’s communication radio, flipping switches and dialing to station 618. 

“Transmitting from S-O-W- 0-2. S-O-W- 0-2. This is Stanford Pines.” 

Before they’d left, Stanford gifted the twins a radio and scanner to communicate with them while they were out at sea. With a few tweaks and some borrowed alien tech, Ford had made sure that its frequency range would reach wherever they were in the world. He imagined it would be used to regale the children of their fantastical adventures. Never would Ford have thought he’d use it for this. 

But even if they were near the radio, the kids are likely fast asleep at this hour. Still, he speaks into the mic. 

“Bill is-” 

There’s a thunderous boom and the ship suddenly lurches to the left. Stanford stumbles, gripping onto the edge of the table to keep himself from falling. The light bulb above him swings violently above him, threatening to fly right off its wire. Stanford steadies himself.

“Bill is back. Do not engage. Do not answer.” Ford hesitates before adding, “We love you two. Please keep safe-” 

Ford is knocked to the ground. His gun skitters across the slippery floor. For a moment, he can only see stars. He groans, his face radiating red hot pain and ears ringing from the blow to the side of his face. Bill holds the empty shotgun like a bat, grinning like a madman. 

“Who were you talking to?” 

Bill looks at the radio, slapping his forehead and cackling. 

“Aww… Don’t tell me you were talking to ol’ Pine Tree and Shooting Star! You’re so impatient-- I’ll get to them soon!” 

“No, don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare-” 

Bill strikes him again with the butt of the shotgun. Ford tries to crawl towards his gun but Bill steps on it, kicking it even further before kicking Ford in the stomach. The air is instantly extinguished from his lungs and Ford gasps in pain. Bill looks down at him in disgust. 

“Shut the fuck up, IQ. You’re in no position to tell me what to do. I’ve given you chances over and over but since you’ve obviously got a death wish, you’re gonna die like a dog just like your brother,” Bill narrows his eyes, pursing his lips. “I used to think you were different, Stanford. Special . But now I see. You’re trash just like every other member of your damned family. You’re pathetic. ” 

Suddenly, Bill starts laughing as he kicks him again. Over and over. 

“C’mon, Fordsy!” Bill spits. “Aren’t you gonna play the hero? Where’s all that fight in you gone? Or are you too scared to hurt me in this body?” 

Bile rises in Ford’s throat as he is repeatedly assaulted. Pain numbs his mind and his body curls up, mind desperately trying not to black out. Bill’s foot strikes his face and Ford hears his nose crack, blood filling his nostrils. 

Then Bill abruptly stops, bored that his attacks aren’t getting a rise from his former partner. He clicks his tongue, standing over Ford, watching him writhe, gasping for air. Bill shrugs. 

“Well, if you’ve already spoiled the surprise, allow me to say a few choice words.” 

The demon bounds for the radio, grabbing the microphone, twirling the cord in his fingers as he speaks. 

“Hey Shooting Star! Hey Pine Tree! This is your Grunkle Stan! I’m about to paint these walls red with my brother’s guts and turn this shitty tin can around back to the mainland! Don’t be too upset though guys! You’ll be joining him VERY soon! OVER!”

Bill rips the microphone from its wires, throwing it across the floor. 

“As I was saying-” 

Ford grabs Bill’s leg and violently pulls him down. Bill yelps in surprise and falls to the ground. The two wrestle, punching, kicking, scratching at each other like mad men, vying for dominance. Ford spies his handgun, dangerously close, and lunges at it, grabbing the weapon. 

The gun goes off. Bill jumps away like a rabid animal before straightening up. He gently touches his cheek, looking at the blood smeared against his fingers. He chuckles.  

“Wow Sixer, real gutsy pointing that thing at me but we all know you love this meat puppet way too much to actually kill me.”

Ford narrows his eyes, once again pointing the gun at Bill. His hands are trembling. 

Stanley wouldn’t want to be used like this. He wouldn’t want to hurt me. He wouldn’t want to hurt the kids. It’s because of that, that I- “You’re wrong Bill,” Ford says, quietly. “It’s because I love him that I will.” 

Bill’s body shudders. He convulses, gagging before he shakes and closes his eyes. When he reopens them, they aren’t yellow. Stanford lowers his gun slightly. 

“Stanley?” 

Stanley stands in front of him, wide-eyed and terrified. 

“Stanford?” 

His body spasms once more. The yellow eyes return and Bill lunches at Stanford. There is one last crack of lightning. 

The gun goes off.