#stanford x anomaly reader

[kodared]

✰ Stanford & Borrower/Anomaly Reader ✰

fears not enough they have to tear him apart.

Chapter 3/?

Wordcount: 2,557 / 7,296

➤ Summary Based on the borrowers of many universes! I hope you enjoy it, and if you don't know about borrowers, let me be your guide into a world I've loved since I was young. ✰Written because I saw the severe lack of borrower content in Gravity Falls fanfic, i hope you enjoy <3 ✰ - ★Updates irregularly! I write when I want ★ ★ - Also on AO3! - ★

!!! CONTENT WARNING FOR VIVID DESCRIPTION OF PANIC ATTACKS. !!!

...

More than anything you wanted to get away from this human. Your hands finally weaseled their way out of his vice grip as you pushed at his fingers that held down your body. His thumb still pressed across your shoulders painfully as you tried to pry him off. 

“Let GO!-“ 

Ignoring his question you let out a strangled cry, if you weren’t so frantic and lightheaded you might have believed the expression on his face to be pure shock and awe. 

“I'm afraid I can't do that, you'll just take off running and I would like to ask you a few questions,” 

That was the point of being put down you quipped back in your head. Your voice lost among your emotions as you screamed internally, not wanting to give this scientist the satisfaction of a response. Your hands still pushing at his digits that curled uncomfortably around you. It was pathetic really. Being able to be pinned by the simple act of being held. His grip wasnt even all that tight anymore, adding insult to injury. 

The sheer power the human held over you just by existing made you dizzy and nauseous. 

He seemed to be lost in thought as he watched you push and practically claw at his pointer finger. He made no move to pin your hands down again so you assumed you weren't doing much damage to your dismay. 

That damned jar once again was lifted and set on the desk, before you could stop it you felt his hand tilting so your legs faced the opening. 

You tried to stop it by pushing a foot on the rim, but it was no use. All it took was Ford letting go and gravity pulled you down into the glass with a small thud. 

Your injured ankle took the brunt of the force, making you stifle a scream as you landed painfully into the glass. All the while the human just pulled his journal closer and wrote. 

Stumbling on your feet you leaned against the front of the glass, your hands balling into fists as you hit the thick and cold glass. 

“There, now that I'm not holding you does that help?” 

It almost made it worse. Atleast he wasnt picking up the jar and taking you down into his lab. 

He wasnt speaking, keeping his eyes trained on you and your heaving form. You could feel the beads of sweat practically rolling down your face. 

You were stressed. You could feel the buzz of a panic attack under your skin, your fists no longer hitting the glass as you tried to calm your frantic breathing. 

Standing was too much to ask of your body too it seemed as your knees buckled and you fell into the cold floor again. 

You only realized Ford was still speaking to you when you finally looked back up and saw almost a panicked expression on his face. Your ears rang painfully loud as you tried so hard to focus on what he was saying. 

Ultimately it didn't matter because right as you started looking up at him he seemed to panic more. Helpless to stop him you watched as he stood from his desk and you physically recoiled. Half expecting him to pick up the glass and take you down to his lab the moment you stopped being useful. 

He didn't do that though to your surprise. He just left the room. You thought that would calm you down but it didn't, the panic in your chest still raged on. 

The once uncomfortable buzz under your skin had now circled its way to your lungs. Your breathing was labored and frantic, the only comfort coming from the freezing glass walls of your prison as you pressed against it. 

Small droplets of tears glided down your face, leaving an uncomfortable dryness in their wake. You curled up as small as possible, your knees pressing to your chest. 

You had been caught. 

Your fate was sealed. 

He would drop you off at some lab for more testing if he didn't do it himself. He was probably calling someone to get you now. 

Unbeknownst to you at the moment he was making a call, but not a call to any scientist. He was making a call to the most brilliant mechanic he knew for help. 

…

It felt like it took forever for the human to come back. You didn't exactly trust your time perception at this moment though, he could've only been gone for a few minutes for all you knew. 

You stayed curled in your tight ball as you heard him sit back down at his desk. Your body is tense and awaiting him to do something. He was most definitely looking at you, no doubt writing whatever he could into his journal. 

You didn't look at him. Straining your still ringing ears to try to pick up anything that could clue you into what he was doing. 

You could most definitely hear his pen scratching away at a page in his journal. He wasnt speaking to you directly which wasnt as big of a relief as you thought it would be. 

Why did he leave the room? That was your biggest question in all honesty. 

A few more moments of silence passed between the two of you. The only sound was your strained breathing that you doubted the human could hear anyway. 

Your shoulders tensed as his voice was once again reverberating around you. Still in a whisper despite how loud it was regardless. 

“...It didn't seem to have any claws, how would It have survived in the wilderness.. Does it have some sort of venom? No, if it did-” 

…Ah. Muttering to himself. Honestly, the mark of someone who was completely sane was when they mumbled to themselves. 

You screwed your eyes shut as you blocked out what he was saying. Especially when he insisted on referring to you as an ‘it’. 

You were about to yell at him, to tell him to shut up when your ears heard a loud knocking coming from the front door. 

So he had called more scientists after all. 

The creaky wooden chair he sat on squealed against the hardwood floor as he stood. Your hands clamping over your sensitive ears before the panic that had just begun to dissipate picked back up tenfold. 

His hand reached for the jar. 

Denial. 

There was no way he was just going to turn you into the others so quickly. He had only just discovered you. Surely he hadn't taken enough notes yet to be satisfied. 

You reeled backward, your ankle screaming its protests as well as your lungs. The oxygen your brain craves so much is being exhaled much too quickly to be fully processed. 

His hand closed around the Jar. Making your body sway unsteadily as you saw the desk below you rising. The glass flooring heavily disorients you. 

Anger. 

What reasoning did he have to uproot you from your life? You weren't harming anyone. You were being turned into some scientist to experiment on you just for being born. You hadn't asked for this. 

You had just as much control over being born a borrower as he had being born a man. You didn't choose this life. 

Your hands hit against the glass as more tears began to go down your face. Hitting the floor of the jar with a faint clink. 

The human seemed none the wiser to your protests. His other hand going to cover the top of the jar as he swiftly left his room. 

Bargaining. 

Your whole body was shaking. The desperation finally made you find your voice as it cracked. 

“Let me out!- I'll talk!- I can-... I can tell you more! Don't you want answers? I can give answers!-” 

You rambled to yourself through choked sobs. The reality of your situation hits you like a ton of bricks. 

The human didn't stop walking to the main room. You both were now at the stairs when he finally acknowledged you. 

“We can all talk in a moment,” 

His voice was smooth as if he was zoned in on one task and one task alone. 

Depression. 

The realization that you couldn't stop him put a new weight on your chest as you fell into the glass wall. Not from your shaky legs surprisingly. The human just wasnt holding the jar with the most care it seemed. 

You tried to put on a brave face as he set your glass prison on the kitchen table. You were back where it all started. 

You should've been more careful that night. He should have never seen you. You should have never moved into this cottage. More than anything you regretted not being able to see your family again. 

You could hear the front door open as a second pair of footsteps joined Ford in the kitchen. 

You prepared yourself for the worst. So when you looked up and met the eyes of his colleague you stilled. 

“...You put them in a JAR?-” 

You hadn't expected that.

Ford seemed shocked at his assistants' outburst. Floundering for an excuse. 

“It was the best option! It didn't want to be held and if I put it down it wouldve-”

You could only imagine how rough you looked based on how the other human's expression softened when you flinched at the humans raising their voices. 

The other scientist Ford invited over had a very thick Southern accent. You never really heard an accent like his unless you counted the shows Ford occasionally played much too loud. 

Thinking back on it this human might have made him watch said shows. 

He took his thin-framed glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. Agitated with his companion. 

“You called sayin’ they looked ill, it's not hard to see exactly why.” 

It clicked in your head now. Ford must've seen your panic as some sort of illness rather than the emotional trauma he was inflincting. 

“I wasnt causing it any harm! It even understands English, do you know how big of a find this is!” 

Ford was trying his hardest to explain his reasoning to Fiddleford. He only wanted answers from the smaller being. Fiddleford put his glasses back on and directly addressed the creature in the jar. 

You watched as he crouched down by the table, causing you to push yourself backward. Pressing against the glass as hard as you possibly could to put distance between the two of you. 

“M’terribly sorry for all this. Do you have a name? Mines Fiddleford. Fiddleford Mcgucket,” 

He didn't reach for the jar, he didn't even get closer to examine you. He just sat still, patiently waiting for you to respond. 

Ford interjected. 

“I already tried talking to it directly, but it gave me no response apart from when we were on the stairs and it was just babbling-” 

“y/n.” 

Both the humans in the room froze at your weak voice. Of course, it was rough and scratchy from your prior sobbing, but they heard it regardless. 

“Thats.. That's my name.” 

You could see the way Fiddlefords mouth pinched into a small smile. Almost one of pride at being able to get a response from you. 

Ford didn't look upset, but he most definitely wasnt pleased at the thought of the creature preferring Fiddleford over him. After all, he had been the one to discover it, it should want to talk to him. 

“Pleased to meet ya, I would offer you a handshake but… Well, I doubt you'd be able to shake more than my pinky” 

His chuckle soothed you slightly. Your chest still felt tight, reminding you of just how terrible you looked probably as you wiped your tears away finally. 

You even caught yourself trying to smile out of politeness before resting your shaking hands in your lap. 

You could see the way Fiddlefords eyebrows pinched together in concern. 

“Do ya need any water? How long have you been in there?” 

“I uh-” 

Neither of the humans heard you as Ford stepped forward again and let out a sigh. 

“I’ve only had it in there for an hour or so, if we let it out it could run.” 

It most definitely felt longer than an hour. Time must’ve been moving faster since you were in such a panic. 

Your body instinctually tensed up as Ford stepped closer. Making Fiddleford finally snap as he stood from his crouch. 

“I need a word with you alone,” 

He didn't even wait for Ford to respond before yanking him by the sleeve out of the room. Leaving you alone once more as you heard the front door slam. 

…

“Ford. Ya can't just trap someone in a jar and expect them to be okay. Mentally and physically speakin’.” 

Ford was being actively chewed out and by his assistant no less. 

He crossed his arms across his chest defensively. His hands tightened on his forearms. 

“I never hurt it! I only asked it a few questions, even the Gnome was calmer than it!” 

“The Gnome was an entirely different situation! You asked him if he wanted to come with you! You just found this… What did you call them?” 

“Parva persona.” 

Fiddleford ran a hand through his hair before reaching into his jacket and pulling out his tobacco. Ignoring the way Ford groaned to himself as the mechanic put a bit in his lip. 

“Whatever. Not their name anyway. And while yer’ at it quit callin’ them an it. It's dehumanizing.” 

Ford unfolded his hands and threw them in the air before gripping the railing of his porch. 

“Exactly my point Fiddleford! They’re not human! It's abnormal! By all rules of science, it shouldn't even be possible for something as small as it to exist!” 

Fiddleford spit a bit of his chewing tobacco off the porch before slowly getting more agitated with his partner. He could be so smart but so dumb most of the time. 

“What makes something deserving of basic decency Ford? Because ill tell ya’, its normally when they look human but smaller and can speak English. I think you even treated the Gnome with more dignity! You didn't trap him in a jar!” 

Ford didn't quip back saying he did put the gnome in a cage after questioning it for a few days to research it. He just sighed and looked off into the woods. 

“...I just don't want my discovery to run off if we let it out. If it runs I don't think ill get another opportunity for answers.” 

“Why not just talk to them? M’sure you could get them to hang around, you’d just have to accept getting answers slowly. An while yer at it stop puttin’ em in jars.” 

…That might work. If Ford could make some sort of connection with it he could get more answers than just interrogating it in the jar. Ford could see the look in his eyes and before he could stop it the other man was already going back into the cottage. 

With a heavy groan, Fiddleford spat out the last of his tobacco off the porch into the grass before following him. 

He had a feeling this would be a long night with no sleep. For both him and the creature in the jar.

. . .

TAGLIST: @i-am-tiredd

Thank you so much for reading!! More updates soon :)

[the-rolls-on-black]

Ford's not really a romantic guy--he gets too caught up in his research. there's things to build, to discover, all that. so he doesn't pursue romantic relationships, he'd prefer to spend his time investigating whatever's going on with Gravity Falls.

But what if you were an anomaly?

What if you caught his eye, as some local legend he was looking into, and boom, next thing you know, you're the focus of his next few experiments and he's trying to befriend you (because it's 'beneficial' to him if you were friends, he says, and he's such a cute dork about it, how can you tell him no?)

[mooooonnnzz]

Forward Beckons Rebound

Dad!Stanford x teen!reader

⚜ 9,8k words OH MY GOD is anyone actually going to read this?

⚜ this was such a pain to complete but writing it was so fun? mixed feelings

⚜ book of bill major spoils

⚜ quick summary: ford is soooo obsessed with finding the secrets of gravity falls and learns to regret making a deal with bill because he almost loses you and he lost fiddleford?? erm...

⚜ bit of gore and blood is described here! u r warned! it's not bad tho i promise

⚜ angst!! + gender neutral reader also instead of stan and ford not seeing each other for 10 yrs, i changed it to 17 cuz it didnt make sense before 😭

⚜ DONT KILL ME PLS but i unintentionally wrote fiddleauthor BUT IT'S NOT LIKE, in your face, nothing is ever stated so take it as you will?

⚜ to anyone who fully reads it, i hoped you enjoyed!! this might flop ngl

Ford stared at his billboard that was filled to the brim with photos of all of Gravity Falls anomalies. A thin string of red was strung across the board, ultimately leading to the middle where a big question mark was laid. For days he’s been theorizing theories on where all the abnormalities came from. Was there a rip in their universe where it expelled all their strange creatures into your world? Or was this a natural occurrence that happens only in Gravity Falls. Ford couldn’t figure it out. Tapping his chin with his pen, his mind raced with thoughts. “Where did it all come from?” He uttered under his breath, eyes squinting in thought. “Where did what come from?” You slip in his lab, placing a plate of food on his table. 

“Oh!” Ford yelped out in surprise. “You scared me there, Kiddo.” He says, chuckling. 

“Sorry,” You sheepishly smile. “I brought you dinner.” Ford’s eyes graze the plate for a second, making a mental note in his head to eat the food you prepared later. Eating was a waste of time and he can’t waste any time when he’s on the brink of solving the mysteries hidden within this town  “I’ll eat it later.” He said with a dismissive tone, his attention going back to the board. 

“This again?” You roll your eyes. “Dad, can you back away from this just for a second and eat dinner with me?” You walk into his view, hands locked together as you pleaded with him. “It’ll be quick! You’ll be back to your work in no time!” You add. Your eyes search his face for any sign of him changing his mind but none came. All he did was side step you, his attention so sucked up in his own head he didn’t even notice what you were saying. He only noticed that you were standing in his way. “Dad,” You let out an exasperated sigh, hands falling down to your sides. 

“You’re not even listening to me.” You said, your eyes landing on a table. An idea sprouted in your head. You kicked the leg of the nearby table, eyes darting over to Ford, looking for a reaction, anything that’ll give him a reason to look at you but be doesn’t budge. Your heart shatters a bit, he’s been so caught up in his work that you and him haven’t properly spoken in awhile. Him being wrapped up in his work wasn’t abnormal, but to this degree, it was very rare for him to cast everything aside and hyper-focus on his findings. You mindlessly kicked the floor, eyes glued to the ground. 

“I’m gonna…” You pause for a moment, voice getting caught in your throat. You couldn’t fully focus on what you were trying to say. You were too absorbed in retaining the tears in your eyes, too ashamed to let them fall. You felt so pathetic for being so deeply wounded that your very own dad pushed you and the food you spent a lot of time making away. There are other problems in the world and you’re over here, on the brink of tears because your dad was being too dedicated to his lifelong work? It all felt so stupid in the grand scheme of things, but it didn’t alleviate the sadness that was bubbling inside of you.

“I’m gonna go,” You meekly said, rapidly wiping the tears that escaped with your arm. 

“Not now, sweetie. I’m this close to breaking this case. I can feel it!”

Silence overcasted him instead of your usual banter. Odd, he thought. Whipping his head over to where you stood, he visibly deflated. You were no longer there. 

Ford smacked his head in annoyance that was directed at himself. He was doing it again. Discarding the pen in his hand, he went to look for you. “Sweetie?” Ford calls for you, heading towards your room. Not wanting to intrude, he cautiously knocked on your door. “Can I come in, kiddo?” He had his forearm resting against the casting of the door, hand over his eyes.

After hearing some shuffling and quiet sniffs, you open the door. “Yes?” Your eyes are glassy when you look at him and his heart cracks in two. He’s the cause of this. “I came here to apologize.” He said, voice audibly full of regret. “I’m sorry for the way I acted. It was out of line and not a way I should treat you when all you wanted was to spend time with me.” You wracked your brain for a moment, debating whether you should accept his apology or mull over this heartbreak just a little longer. You fidgeted with the door, moving it side to side as you continued to think, prolonging it just to purposefully bug with Ford. 

Falling right into your trick, Ford bit his lip, anxiously chewing on the skin. “Are you going to say anything or you’re going to leave me hanging over here?” His hand dragged down the trim of the door, finger tapping on the wall, nervously waiting for your answer. You couldn’t stay mad at him. A small smile pulls to your face and you wrap him in a bone crushing hug. “You better not ignore me like that again!” Your voice muffled through his long sleeved sweater. His arms wrap around you tightly, kissing the top of your head. “I won't, I promise.”

He wasn’t lying when he promised you he wouldn’t get so enraptured by his work like that ever again. He saw how he secluded himself from you and swore up and down he was going to spend less time researching, even if it meant that he had to shove his hungry curiosity away. 

But he would be lying if he said he never laid in bed thinking about what he could be doing instead, what mysteries he could be unsolving and what discoveries he could make that would bring him closer to the question that had been gnawing on him ever since he arrived to this peculiar place.

Many nights were spent restlessly imagining what could be the final piece to his concluding mystery. And one day, he had enough of sitting around. Curiosity killed the cat, a phrase you’d tell him whenever his relentless interest in the unknown occasionally backfired on him, circled throughout his brain but he paid no mind. The yearn to find answers was too great. Slipping on his trench coat, he grabbed his bag. Stringing it over his shoulder, he told you that he was heading out. Completely unaware of his plans, you bid him goodbye from your room. 

Ford came back a little while with nothing new other than discovering an old inscription carvings in a cave. He had hoped that reading them outloud would at least summon something that would give him answers! But his actions were fruitless. Defeated and annoyed, he came back. Entering the house, he called out for you. 

“In the kitchen!” 

He removed his coat and hung it on his coat hanger, along with his bag. He walked over to the kitchen, the smell of spices and cooked meat lingered in the air. “Smells good, kiddo.” He comments, grabbing a Pitt Cola from the fridge. You turn over to him, exaggerating an angry look on your face. “I would have normally taken your compliment but I’m more curious on where you went for practically the whole day!” Ford playfully rolled his eyes at your joking tone. “I was out, sweetie. I lost track of time.” He says, popping the soda can open. Your eyes lock on the Pitt Cola can in his hand. “You don’t drink soda,” You turn off the stove, putting the dirty cooking utensils in the sink “Drinking some once and awhile doesn’t hurt.” He shrugs, ruffling your hair. “dad!” you smacked his hand away from your hair. “Go sit down!” You grumbled, to which he complied. 

While you were setting up dinner, a terrible headache overcame Ford. Clutching his head with his free hand, he threw away the Pitt Cola, thinking the soda was the cause of his headache. When you called him for dinner, his brain squirmed in pain. He walked over to the table, sitting himself down as he gripped his head. Too lost in the mind numbing pain, he fails to hear your calls.

“Dad?” 

No response.

“Dad?” You called out again, kicking him from under the table. He jolted up in surprise. 

“W-What?” He groaned out, his hand still on his forehead. “Are you okay?” You reach out to him, hand on his arm as your thumb moves side to side. Ford weakly smiles, appreciating the gesture. “I’m fine, sweetie. Don’t worry about me.” He looked at you, offering a timid thumbs up. “I’m just getting old.” He said, the pads of his fingers pressing against his temples. 

“Do you want me to get you tylenol or—?” Ford waves you off. “It’s okay, kiddo. I’ll tough it out.” 

For the past few minutes, you’d catch him staring off into the distance, eyes wide and mouth half open. Everytime you would have to snap him out of his trance, worried if he stayed like that any longer something bad would have happened. Abruptly getting up from the chair, he mumbles, “Heading to bed.” Leaving you alone in the dining room. Unsure on how to react, you watched him leave. No goodnight? No kiss on the forehead? You frowned and got up from your chair, grabbing your plate and his. While washing the dishes you thought of all the possible reasons on why he’s acting so weirdly. But nothing came to mind. Drying your hands on your pants, you walked over to his room.

Opening the door, you peeked your head in. You found him fast asleep on his bed. Carefully stepping inside his room, you pull his blanket over his shoulder and pressed a kiss on his cheek. “Sleep well, Dad.” You whisper. 

The next morning was weird to say the least. You woke up to the smell of breakfast wafting into your room. Curious and hungry, you quickly brushed your teeth and skipped down the hall. “Dad?” You walk into the kitchen to see him cooking up breakfast, a large smile to his face. “You look happy?” You say rather confused, watching as he flipped the pancake up in the air. 

“Today is a good day, kiddo!” He said with so much energy you were convinced that your dad was kidnapped and replaced by a poorly made replica during the night. Never once in your life have you seen him so chipper to be up so early. “Is that so?” Ford finishes up the pancakes and sets them on plates. He hands you a plate and puts his down on the table. 

He grabbed butter and syrup from the cabidents, popping the syrup bottle open and drenching his pancake with the sweet syrup. “Want?” He asks you. “No thank you.” 

He sits down on his chair and picks up his fork. You watched him closely as he cut a piece of the pancake with the side of his fork, the smile never washing away from his face. “Did you have a good dream or…?” He laughed, stabbing the piece of the cut pancake with his fork. “Guess you could say that.” He looked at you, a flash of yellow ignited in one of his eyes. You blink and his eye is back to normal. You shake your head, brushing it off as your mind tricking you. “Okay?” You looked down to your plate, the fluffy pancake suddenly looking unappetizing. The whiplash of his sudden change in attitude really struck you hard. You pushed the plate away from you, taking in a breath through clenched teeth. “I’m gonna eat later, okay?” You got up and headed to your room before Ford could respond. 

“That was weird, wasn’t it, Sixer?!” A voice boomed in his head. Ford jumped, dropping his fork. “Can you give me a heads up when you do that?” He grumbled under his breath, recollecting himself. “Oops! Sorry,” Bill laughed loudly in his head. “Heads up!” He warns.

“There’s no point if you say it after.” Ford mumbles, grabbing his fork to continue eating his breakfast. “You humans and their foods,” Ford could imagine Bill rolling his eye. “Hurry up or else I’m going to rip my eye out of boredom!” 

Months ticked by and Ford was still strung up on building a portal. When you’d ask him about it, he would vaguely respond by saying; “This will break the boundaries between our worlds!” And continued to mumble incoherently to himself, pacing around the room as he stewed in his thoughts. He also began to collect weird art of this godly being. His lab was shrouded with tapestries, paintings and statues of a yellow triangle. Questioning about the art led you nowhere. Ford would act like it wasn’t such a big deal and make it seem like you’re the crazy one for finding an issue with his sudden obsession with this triangle. You just pinned it as him obsessively worshiping whatever this god is. As long as it doesn’t get too out of hand. 

Even if he was knee deep in his work, he still managed to find some time to spend time with you. Outings were pretty common and you made it known that you appreciate him stepping out of his little man dungeon just to spend some time with you. 

Everything was going good for Ford and you. He was slowly reaching his answer he’s been desperately looking for this whole time and you were happy to see him in such high spirits all the time. Not that he never was! He just seems more confident in himself, like he knows his self-worth. You wondered what exactly happened to him to make him so assured of himself. 

Although, there would be times where his usual outgoing spirit was washed out for weeks at a time, even months. You were always there to cheer him up, to ground him, to tell him that everything was going to be okay during those times. You never thought much of it, just chalking it up as him going through mental exhaustion. It made the most sense to you. After all, he practically spends most of his day going out to that UFO crash landing site to collect scraps for the portal. There’s days where he’s all beaten and bruised and you’re left to take care of his wounds. You pestered him like a mother would to their child. 

Ford sat down on the couch with a loud sigh, unbeknownst to him, you were in the kitchen browsing the cabinets for any snacks when Ford started mumbling to himself. “My muse,” He says. “Gone without a word once again.” He groans. You could hear him take off his glasses and place them somewhere. “Muse?” You whispered under your breath. You waited for him to say anything else that you can latch on to, but unfortunately for you, the TV sparked to life. Latest news reports filled the room and you were left stumped with new information.Was this supposed muse the reason why he gets all sad and anxious? Is this Muse a partner he hasn’t introduced you to yet? Your head is thick of conspiracies and feasible reasons but it was cut short when Ford interrupted your thoughts by walking in. 

“Sweetie?” He’s surprised to see you in the kitchen, hunched over in thought. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Uh,” You look at the open cabinet, flipping your eyes between the cabinet and your dad. “Not long! I was…looking for snacks!” You grabbed a bag of chips. “Oookaayy?” He walks to the fridge and grabs a bottle of water. 

“Are you seeing anyone?” 

Like a flash of lightning, your face is sprayed with Ford’s mouth water. “I’ll take that as a no,” You said, voice raspy. You waddle out of the kitchen, dripping water onto the floor. “I’m sorry, kiddo!” 

At some point, he needed a few extra hands to help assemble the machine. Ford chose you and an old friend of his, Fiddleford, to be his helpers. Meeting Fiddleford was a delight. He’s a kind hearted soul who had the brains of a genius. When there were slow days in building the portal, he’d play a song on the banjo to lighten up the mood. You all grew close as time went on and you felt like you had your own little family. You cherished every laugh, smile and conversation that passed between you and the others. 

“What songs can you play?” You ask Fiddleford who was strumming the strings of his banjo without any thought. Catching his attention, he takes in your question. He considered his answer for a minute or so. “I don’t think it’s a song you’d know.” He says, beginning to play the opening tune on his instrument. “I know Ford will know this one though!” He smirks, head craning over to Ford who was drawing the outline for the portal. As Fiddleford smoothed into the middle of the song, Ford was turned over on his chair, head swaying to the beat. Once the song came to a close, the lab erupted in rounds of applause. “Thank you, thank you all!” 

“I remember that song all too well.” Ford grins. You furrowed your brows. “I’m curious. Why do you two know the song?” Your finger switching between Ford and Fiddleford. “There’s nothin’ really special behind it,” Fiddleford lightly shrugs. “I just played this song whenever Ford had trouble concentrating on his work.” 

“And it worked?” Ford nodded his head. “Worked seamlessly.” 

You weren’t surprised when Fiddleford would start playing the song whenever Ford was stressed out. 

June 15th rolled by, Ford’s birthday! You and Fiddleford secretly planned a surprise party for him, something small between the three of you to remind him how much you and Fiddleford love him. You knew he never was a fan of his birthday. Celebrating one without his twin grew harder each year, but you seemed to lessen the ache in his heart and with Fiddleford a part of the little family now, his birthday surely won't be as bittersweet! 

Walking over to his lab, you felt your shoe press against something squishy. Looking down to the floor, you saw a pile of dead rats that spelled out his name. The one you stepped on was flattened, mouth hung open as its bloodied guts pool out of it. You let out a scream, stumbling backwards in disgust and horror. 

The door to Ford’s lab flew open, a concerned Ford stood behind it. “Kiddo, are you alriighht…?” His words trailed off into the air, his attention now shifted to the pile of dead rats on the ground. “What the…?” His eyes flicker between you and the rats. He looks equally horrified and disgusted. “I’m gonna get something to clean—“ A gag interrupts you. “To clean that up!” You said in a hurried flash, hands cupping your mouth as you scurried away from the scene. 

When you came back with a mask covering your nose and mouth, disinfectant spray, a broom and a trash bag; You saw Ford sweetly smiling at the pack of dead rats. “Uh, dad?” Why was he looking at the rats like that? His head flew up, eyes locking with yours. “Oh, kiddo! Th-Thanks! I’ll clean this up, don’t you worry.” He says, grabbing the cleaning product and broom. 

“Uh, okay? Me and Fiddleford are upstairs. We made you something.” You tell him, fidgeting with your fingers. A quick “mhm,” leaves him and you’re left to walk back to the kitchen, a little weirded out by his smile. “Did you clean it up?” Fiddleford asked, adding the finishing touches to the cake. “dad’s cleaning it up. He was acting weird though,” You look at the cake. Gorgeously decorated with white frosting all by Fiddleford’s amazing handiwork. “Weird in what way?” He curiously asked. “Like, there was a pile of dead rats that formed his name and he was disgusted at first, but when I came back with cleaning supplies he looked…” You stop, searching for the word in your head. “Touched?” Your voice high pitched with uncertainty “He looked at the rats as if they were a gift almost.” 

“Now ain’t that something.” He looks at you with a shake of his head. “Listen, I love your dad but he’s been actin’ weird.” He pushes his glasses up, setting the piping bag aside. “I sometimes catch him talking to himself. I knew to a certain degree he talked to himself, but I don’t remember it being that bad.” 

“I notice that too, do you think it’s that–” 

“What is all of this?” Ford asked, amusement trailing his voice. The conversation between you and Fiddleford evaporated in thin air and was replaced with you and him both yelling out, “Happy Birthday!”

His birthday went smoothly and perfect in your eyes, if you ignore the hiccup from earlier. Your dad was laughing heartily at what Fiddleford told him, drinks in both of their hands. Plates of eaten cake were left on the table, confetti was strewn about and you were more than satisfied with you and Fiddleford’s work. You watched as the pair happily conversed with each other, sharing old memories of college together. As the mini party came to a close, Ford turned to you as he hugged Fiddleford goodbye. “Thank you for this, truly. I needed this.” Hugging him, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Anytime, dad.” You smiled.

Soon enough, Christmas was right around the corner. The small little town of Gravity Falls was celebrating the festive cheer by blasting music from every corner and littering their house with decorations. Something you also partook in. Standing on top of the very tall ladder, you decorated the roof with Christmas tree shaped lights. 

“Kiddo!” 

Looking down, you saw Ford waving at you. “Hi, Dad!” You wave back, slowly ascending down the ladder. Once you reached the bottom, Ford had shoved a snowglobe and a 6-fingered mitten your way. “Look at what Fiddleford made me.” Ford beamed, a small hue of pink flushing his cheeks. You picked up the snowglobe and shook it. You watched in awe as the glittery snow cascaded down to the bottom. “He’s so good at making things.” You say, handing back the adorable snow globe. “And a six fingered mitten?” You slipped the glove on. It covered your whole hand and almost up to your forearm due to how big it was.

“Give me that.” Ford chuckled, removing the mitten off your hand with a swipe. “That’s so sweet.” You say, seeing Ford bleed out utter joy. “And look what he got you!” Digging in his pocket, he pulled out a picture frame. Within the frame was a photo of you, Ford and Fiddleford at Gravity Falls local park. All three of you were stupidly posing in the photo, faces pulled in different ways to make the weirdest face ever. The frame was decorated with a mini wreath and tinsel. On the back, he wrote “To my family,” with a tiny heart scribbled as a period. “He thinks of us as his family!” You held the picture frame close to your chest. “dad! I’m going to cry. This is so sweet.” 

“He’s one of a kind.” He says, staring at his gifts longingly. “Where is he? I need to go thank him.” Your eyes search around the premise. “I’m afraid you’re too late, kiddo.”

“What?” You quickly turned around. “Is he dead?!” You practically yelled out. “What? No, no.” He shook his head. “He’s out of town. Spending time with his wife.” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. “Why did you say it like that!” You shoved his shoulder with your hand. He let out a snort. “Sorry, sorry!” He raised his hands up defensively. “Whatever,” You said jokingly. “Are you done decorating the house?” He wonders, peering his head up to see the lights flashing on the roof. “Not quite. I still need to decorate the front porch and such. Wanna help?” Ford didn’t hesitate to agree. He grabbed your gift and placed it inside where it was safe and started helping you decorate.

Wordlessly, you disappeared into the house for a moment. Ford was puzzled but it all made sense when he heard loud Christmas music grow near. The door burst open and there you were, radio in hand with a multitude of DVD’s in the other. “I had to play some music.” 

“Just don’t play the songs Fiddleford plays!” 

“Those are the exact songs I’m playing.” A groan was heard from Ford and you had to stifle a laugh. That day was spent entirely accessorizing the whole house. The next few days progressed nicely. The christmas spirit was thick in the atmosphere and nothing could shatter it. And as if it was a Christmas miracle, Ford had told you that Fiddleford came back earlier than intended due to relationship problems back home. He also slid in that he had just met The Krampus before crashing down on the couch. The next hour was you trying to shake your dad up from his slumber to get the full story. How could he drop the mention that he met Krampus and knock out like that?  

Later that day, Ford was magically possessed by the spirit of Christmas and chose to decorate the portal with lights and a ‘Happy Holidays’ banner. “What’s all this?” You point towards the portal that was covered in flashing lights. “I just wanted to make the place look festive.” There was another reason why he did this and you read him all too well.

“I bet it’s for Fiddleford.” You tease. He scoffed, waving you off. “I may or may not have called him over.” You squeal, hugging Ford with all your might. “Is this how having a full family feels like?” 

“What! Did you not like when Christmas was just us two?” He took your comment very personally, even though a smidgen of him thought the same thing. “No. I loved it, but it’s nice to share the festivities with someone else.” 

After a bit of waiting around, a knock resounded through the house. Ford perks up from his chair. “That’s him!” He exclaims. Quickly turning to you, he throws the remote to the lights to you. “When we walk in, turn on the light and throw the christmas confetti.” He instructs you. 

“You can count on me!” You said, puffing out your chest. Hiding behind the wall, you heard Ford’s footsteps lull to whisper. Quiet chatter was heard and soon, the footsteps drew near. Your finger hovered the On button. You overheard a tiny little yelp and the sound of something unraveling. Looking towards the portal, you saw a little gnome hanging upside down by his foot. 

“Oh, c’mon!” You smack your head. You didn’t have time to unwrap the lights off his ankle. Mouthing a “hold on!” to the gnome, you watched as Ford and Fiddleford’s shadow crept into view. You smashed your fingers on the On button, the lights flickering to life. 

A gasp left Fiddleford. “First you decorate the house and now the portal? Gee, Ford! And to think I thought you were a mini grinch.” He jested, delivering a slight punch to Ford’s arm. “I’m glad you like it, Fiddleford.” He said softly. He then coughed to his hand, his eyes moving to the general direction where you were at. “Imagine if we had CONFETTI thrown at us. That would be AWESOME.”

Your eyes widen. You forgot the confetti! Jumping right in front of them, you threw the ball of confetti in their face. Your vision was full of confetti fluttering down. When it cleared out, you saw Ford’s unimpressed face and Fiddleford’s large smile. He cracked into full blown laughter, hunched over as Ford coughed out confetti from his mouth. “Really?”

“Oops?” You awkwardly laugh. 

“Is that a gnome?” Ford points over to the gnome who waved at him enthusiastically. “Ignore him…” You said quietly.

Half of the cold night was spent warmly tucked in the lab, all huddled up behind blankets and hot cocoa in hands. Sooner or later, they swapped out their hot cocoa with nog. They both told you stories from their past together, stemming from embarrassing stories to really heartfelt ones. Each story either had you hooked on every word that left their mouth or a messy ball of tears. 

“You know,” Ford begins, leaning back, looking at Fiddleford and you adoringly. “Maybe we should stop building the portal.” 

Shock strikes you and Fiddleford. “What happened to making scientific history?” He asks. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I still want to make history but…” His eyes trail to the portal.  “I just want to spend time with my favorite people in the world outside of this lab.” His fingers tapped the floor mindlessly. “I have people around me who love me. Why waste that, you know?” 

“Am I goin’ crazy?” Fiddleford whispers to you. “I think it’s the nog talking.” You whisper back.

“I can hear you guys talking!” 

Facing Ford, Fiddleford had a light blush on his cheeks. “You tell me I’m the sappy one but I think I’m rubbin’ off on ya,” He nudges him. “Don’t make me take back what I said.” He threatens with no actual meaning behind it. 

“Why don’t we go outside to build snowmen? That way I can see you wear that six-fingered glove I tirelessly worked on.” Fiddleford suggested. Liking the idea, Ford got up to his feet. He lent out a hand to Fiddleford who graciously took his hand. “Last one to go outside is a rotten eggnog!”

You and the boys rush to their respective rooms, hastily changing out of their thin long sleeves to their thick jackets and pants. Throwing the door to your room open, you stumbled out of the house and onto the snow where you tripped. Laughter sounded around you. Lifting your head up from the fluffy snow, you saw Ford and Fiddleford already out, all bundled up to protect themselves from the cold. “No way!” You gasped, scrambling to your feet. “Yes way!” Ford said. 

The other half of the night was spent building snowmen, making snow angels and snowball fights. You tapped out after a while, hugging the both of them closely. “Best day ever!” You said, throwing some snow in the air. “I’m glad you had fun, kiddo.” His hand patted your back, giving you a kiss on your temple. Fiddleford ruffled your hair endearingly.

“Night, guys. Don’t go too crazy on the nog!” They did exactly what you told them not to do.

A month passed and you believed everything was going alright, you thought everyone was getting along but something happened to Ford a few weeks ago. He’s been more paranoid now, snapping at you or Fiddleford and erratically going off on tangents of how he needs to finish the portal. The talk of discarding the portal many nights ago was lost to the wind. Now it rested as some silly little pipe dream. 

Fiddleford was noticeably putting less and less effort in the project. You’d often find him daydreaming on his desk, mind far away from the lab. Your work was beginning to become sloppy, head full of thoughts and worries. You stressed over the thought of how everything was just fine a few weeks ago. Now it was slowly falling apart.

You were taking a break outside of the lab when Fiddleford stormed out. His face pinched with a mix of anger and sadness. “Fiddleford?” You rushed to your feet, running over to him. “Fiddleford, what happened?” You stood in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. His lip trembled, looking off to the side. “I don’t wanna talk about it. Go ask your dad since he’s so keen on yellin’ at me.” 

Your heart drops to your stomach. Your dad did what? “D-Do you wanna stay here? I-I can talk to him and you guys can make up or something!” Your words stumbled over each other. You can see your whole world crumbling down right in front of you and it was all because of your dad. “It’s alright, pumpkin. I’ma head home now.” A somber yet reassuring smile pulled to his lips.

“I’m going to talk to him, I promise.” You tell him with a firm nod to your head. “Thank you.” His voice was weak, something you’ve never heard from him before. You brought him into a hug, squeezing him before letting him go. He wished you a good afternoon and left, leaving you alone to deal with your dad.

You sucked in a deep breath and trudged towards the lab. Walking in, you saw Ford pacing around anxiously, a scramble of words tumbling out of his mouth at rapid speed. “Dad?” His head snaps to you, a light yellow glow in his eye. The same one you saw almost one year ago. He blinked and suddenly it was gone. “What do you want, kiddo?” His tone was harsh and clipped.

“I just wanted to talk to you.” You cower a bit. His anxious energy and rude tone shook you to your core. He’s never talked to you with such anger before. “Are you here because of what happened between Fiddleford and me?” He inquired, taking a step towards you. Seeing his face better, you could see that it was pulled into an irritated scowl. “What happened, dad?” 

“He was going through my stuff! Without my permission!” He said, his hands cupped towards him, directing them at himself. “And to think I trusted him!” 

“He probably got the cabinets mixed up or something.” You shrug, not getting the whole show he’s throwing. Ford pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering to himself. “You don’t understand.” 

“Understand what?” Your lips quivered. You felt so little compared to him. He towered over you with such burning anger you couldn’t process that he was your dad. “You don’t understand what’s going inside my head!” He jabs his finger to his temple repeatedly. “You can’t trust anyone, especially him!” 

“This is Fiddleford we’re talking about, Dad! He wouldn’t even hurt a fly.” You said. You couldn’t grasp the words that were coming out of his mouth. Since when did he start doubting Fiddleford’s loyalty? What planted this ridiculous idea into his head? Your heart was pounding in your ears.

“So explain to me why he was rummaging through my belongings!”

“I’m not Fiddleford, I can’t answer that question!” 

Ford scoffed, he opened his mouth to say something when it faltered close. He was quiet for a moment, lost in his thoughts when he took a step back. His expression screamed betrayal. “Unless you’re siding with him to work against me.” He murmured, eyes narrowed at you.

Your stomach twisted into knots. “Seriously?” Your voice wavered. You closed your eyes, biting your lip to suppress your cries. When you opened your eyes, you were locked on a tapestry of that yellow triangle. That’s when it all clicked. Swallowing your sorrows, you pointed to the tapestry. 

“That triangle,” You start. “Ever since you started hanging up those stupid paintings or whatever, you’ve been acting strange in all kinds of ways.” You walk over to it, fingertips brushing the material. Ford eyes you warily. “Is this your Muse I hear you talk to yourself about?” Your fingers wrap around the tapestry. 

“Don’t.” His finger pointed at you. You felt like you were a kid again, being disciplined by him for acting irresponsible, for breaking something you shouldn’t have. It made the reality of the situation a lot more serious. This wasn’t something that Ford could shrug off due to your poor impulse control. This is something you chose to do. “Please don’t.” He begged, his eyes glossing over with tears. 

You yanked it, ripping it in half. Ford reached out to grab the ripped tapestry but you were too quick. You moved to the side and observed the art designed on it. A flying yellow triangle was depicted as the saving grace of our world. In the background there were people on their knees, while some stood behind them. What stood out to you the most was their eyes yellow, their pupils replaced with a black straight line. You’ve seen those yellow eyes before. You turn your head over to Ford, your heart crushing against your chest. You could barely recognize the man in front of you. He had deep dark eye bags under his eyes, the whites of his eyes had dark crimson veins that irritated his eyes. His hair was disheveled and his chin had little stubbles of hair growing out. 

“What is this?” The back of your hand smacks against the tapestry. “Who is this? Why am I just making sense of all of this now?” You shoot questions at him like rapid bullets. “Why haven’t you told me anything about this?” 

Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back. “I don’t know if I should tell you.” He says, voice low. “I don’t want you to jeopardize our main goal.”

“What main goal, Dad?” You shot back. “The one you said you didn’t want to do anymore because you didn’t want to lose track of what’s in front of you?” Your hands clenched the tapestry. “I changed my mind.” Ford rubs his forehead, looking away from your eyes, clearly ashamed of himself. “Clearly!” You stared at him for a moment. “Why?” He looks over to you, his face riddled with exhaustion. You soften your tone and repeat it. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” He responds. “Did the triangle guy give you shit for it?” You watch as he winces. Right on the dot. So this entity, this being, it speaks to him. “Does he talk to you?” He nods slowly, as if he’s unsure that the information he’s sharing is allowed to be told. “Dad…” You drop the tapestry. “What have you gotten yourself into?” 

A prolonged silence entraps you and him. You stare at him and he stares at you and he looks so terribly conflicted with himself. He looks at you like he doesn’t know what’s right or wrong. He pushes his glasses up, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I need you to get out of my lab.” 

“What?” Your whole body tingles with cold chills. You can’t tell if he's joking or not. He has to be joking, right? There’s no way he’s demanding you to leave, right? “Dad I—“

“—I said that you need to leave. Why haven’t you done that already?” His voice is dangerously low. His irritation seeps deeply into his words and punches you right in the heart. You open your mouth, ready to protest, ready to fight with whatever energy you had left in you but closed it. 

You backed out. 

Kicking the tapestry over to him, you forcefully knock your shoulders with him as you leave. Hot tears escaped your eyes as you ran to your room, shutting the door of your room.

Ford sighs out, despair riddling his body. “And you’re sure that [Name] and Fiddleford devised a plan to turn off the portal?” He asked Bill who floated in front of him. Bill flicked his hand down. “Don’t you worry, pal! You did the right thing.” A distant look was evident on Ford’s face. 

“You do a good job at listening to me, you know that, Fordsy?” Ford could only grumble in response. 

Bill spun around to face the portal  “When do you think this portal can turn on?” 

“Tomorrow.” Ford firmly says. “Do you think you can rally those two knuckleheads tomorrow? You need a test dummy afterall!” 

“I might be able to.”

The morning blooms to life and you’re left rotting on the bed, not wanting to move from the only place that provided you constant comfort. Hours pass by when you hear Fiddleford’s voice. You sprung up from the bed. What is he doing here? Making a beeline to the bathroom, you quickly brush your teeth and hurry on down to the living room. They’re nowhere to be seen. 

You rush to the lab and open the door. The ground shifts as the portal powers to life. You watch as they approach the roaring portal, test dummy in hand. What happens next all happens too fast. Fiddleford’s wrist got tied to rope that was on the test dummy and got pulled along with it, his head getting sucked in. You run over to your dad, hands latching on to the rope that was conveniently on his ankle. Together, you and Ford pull him back in. You fall back to the floor. Fiddleford violently trembles as he speaks some garbled nonsense. 

“Fiddleford?” 

He sits up, staring blankly ahead of him. “When gravity falls and earth becomes sky, fear the beast with one eye!”

“Fiddleford, get a hold of yourself. You’re not making any sense!” Ford reached out to Fiddleford but he flinched away before he could. “This machine is dangerous,” He states, hugging his arm. “You’ll bring about the ends of the world with this!” He grabs onto Ford’s shoulder. “Destroy it before it destroys us all!”

“I can’t, Fiddleford. This is my life's work!” 

Fiddleford looks down to the floor. “I fear we unleashed a grave danger on the world.” He looks petrified. Whatever he saw on the other hand has mentally taken a toll on him within a matter of seconds. He looks up to Ford, his eyes brimming with tears. “I’m not gonna ask again.” His body tremors in fear. “You need to destroy the machine, Ford. Please, I beg of you.”

“Fiddleford. I can’t just throw this all away.” Ford says. 

Fiddleford studies his face, hoping that a part of Ford was lying. But when Ford’s stern face unwavering, Fiddleford broke. “Then I quit.” He stands up from the floor, his eyes gazing at you one last time before he marches out of the lab, leaving you and Ford stunned. 

“Fear the beast with one eye,” You echoed, your mind instantly flashing to the image of the yellow triangle Ford has everywhere. Ford had seemed to make the same revelation. He shuffles to his feet, still shaken up by what had just happened, he stumbles a bit as he goes back inside the lab, pulling out his journal 3 notebook. “Shut off the portal!” He commands. 

You don’t waste a second getting up and switching off every knob, lever and button. Sneaking careful glances to Ford, you can see him writing, his pressure on the pencil is so hard that the words he writes come out thick and black. You just stand there and watch him visibly break down, his mental health deteriorating as the minutes go on. 

“I need to destroy the portal and burn the journals,” He finally speaks up after a long minute. “And we’re leaving Gravity Falls once I deal with everything.” He slammed the book shut and tucked it inside his coat. “We’re what? Leaving Gravity Falls?” You follow him closely as he leaves the lab, eyes clouded over with fear. “It’s not safe here, [Name].” 

The whole day is such a messy blur. Too overwhelmed with your emotions you couldn’t grasp the severity of the situation. You were still hung up on the fact Fiddleford left. The look in his eyes will be forever ingrained in your memory. Everything around you is falling apart and you can’t seem to pick up the pieces and fix it. Sleep was unachievable. Closing your eyes would replay the memories of what happened hours prior. 

Footsteps approached your room, but they weren’t the ones you were familiar with. These were messy and uncoordinated. Bangs of someone slamming against the wall shook your room and before you could have any time to react, your door whips open, revealing Ford. You breathe out in relief. It was just your dad.

Ford’s head pulls up as if it’s being controlled by a string and stares you down with a wide smile. His comforting brown eyes weren’t there anymore. Instead, they glowed a disgusting yellow. His pupils were a black slit and you felt your blood run cold and the world around you stopping. You felt like a fool to think you were safe. 

“Nice to finally meet you!” Another person’s voice spoke using your dad’s mouth. “Names Bill, Bill Cipher!” He hung out his hand for you to shake. Your body felt like cement was encased in your veins, preventing you from moving. His eyes switched from his hand to yours a few times before pulling his hands back. “I see you don’t do handshakes. I get it! You’re probably thinking where’s my dad right now? What is inside of him? What is going ooonnn?!” He lets out a laugh. “Right? You’re thinking that?” 

Your voice dies in your throat, your words failing you. “Hmm, maybe I chose the wrong day to come out…Should I have done it tomorrow?” He thinks out loud, tapping his finger on his chin, exactly the way your dad did. “Well, too late to think about what could’ve happened!” He jolts towards you, his hand grabbing your wrist. You break out of your trance “Let go of me!” You screech. Your fist clenched, ready to blow a punch to Bill’s arm when it hit you, this is your dad’s body. Any injury you inflict on Bill is also harming your dad. “What? Are you too scared to hit me because I’m in Ford’s body?” A cackle leaves Bill. “This will make this so much easier then!”

“Make what easier?” Not knowing what Bill was scheming made everything feel so much scarier. “I’m breaking into Sixer’s lab! But I just need your help.” A warm sensation drips onto your hand and slides down to your arm. You feel bile climb up your throat when you see that it was blood seeping out of the various open wounds Bill had given to Ford on his knuckles. “W-what did you do?!” The wounds weren’t deep, but the skin was ripped open and Bill dragging you down to the lab only peeled the skin open even more. “Just tried bashing the door down. Is it obvious that it didn't work?” 

You reached the lab’s door. Blood was smudged on the door, some dripping down to the floor. The strong scent of metal hung in the air and you could feel your stomach churning. “Unfortunately for me, Sixer can be a real genius at times. He implemented this stupid security system so I couldn’t get in!” Bill’s other hand grips your hair. “It won’t work with my eye, but it’ll work with youuurss!” His hand in your hair pushes your head towards the eye scanner. You yelp out in pain. “Oh, stop complaining!” His finger pressed a button and the scanner began inspecting your eye, before it could do a proper scan you screwed your eyes shut. “Oh no you don’t.” Bill pries your eye open and starts the scanner all over again. You tried struggling against it, but his boot stomped down on your ankle, twisting it sideways. “I just wanted to do that!” You screamed in agony, tears pouring out of your eyes. 

A loud beep sounded and you thought you were granted access when Bill cursed under his breath. He throws you against the wall, you head knocking against it. “So useless!” He delivers a punch to the door. “I will get access to that portal.” He shoots over to you, a large toothy smile that spreads ear to ear unnaturally took over Ford’s face. “Or maybe I can think of other ways to convince him to–” His eyes roll to the back of his head and he falls back. “Dad!” You crawl over to him, hands on his cheeks as you watch his eyes flutter open. No longer were they yellow. 

“Oh, thank god!” You wrap him in a hug, tears falling down your face. “D-Did I fall asleep?” Ford slurred out. As Ford’s surroundings came back to him, his face scrunches up when he’s assaulted with the stench of blood. “[Name], what happened?” 

“Bill tried breaking into the lab to use the portal.” You say, giving him a squeeze before giving him space. “Did he get in?” He groans as he sits up, body terribly sore. “No, he didn’t.” His eyesight focuses on you, eyes blowing wide when he sees blood staining your hand and arm. “Did he hurt you?” He grabs onto your hand, looking for any damage. “He didn’t make me bleed. Just gave me a tiny concussion and a twisted ankle probably.” 

Ford stays silent for a moment, his head replaying your words. Anger boiled in his chest as he thought of the ways he hurt you while he was possessing his body. “Don’t worry, Dad. I’m fine!” You assure. “I’m more worried about your knuckles.” You say, looking at the splintering skin. “My knuckles?” He casts his gaze over his knuckles and winces at the sight. “He does not know when to give up.” 

The rest of the night was you patching Ford up and him patching you up. Conversation floated between you and him as if the previous days were nothing but a nightmare. That’s when he unloaded everything about Bill onto you, from the moment they made the deal to when the portal was revealed to be nothing but a way for Bill to take over Earth. You could see the remorse on his face as he talked, speaking on how he felt so stupid for falling into his tricks, believing the lies he told and how he almost caused a rift between the two of you. You already figured out most of what he told you prior to the conversation, but having it proven to be true and not baseless guesses was astounding. 

“I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting for the past year.” He says, holding you tightly to his chest. “It’s okay, Dad. You were under his influence and believed him more than you believed yourself.” You tell him. 

From then on out, you and Ford searched for anything that’ll help defeat Bill. Ford stumbled across a book with armor that was supposed to keep Bill out of the mind. The machinery was horribly outdated but by growing on their ideas, you and Ford had a solid outline of a modern alternative. Assembling it was another story. 

“Does this go here or here?” 

“No..I think it goes here?” 

The idea was scrapped and Ford was back to square one. Without Fiddleford’s brilliance in machinery, the protective armor was pretty much unachievable. And right before you knew it, the inevitable came. Ford fell asleep. You walked into his room with what you originally thought was him hunched over his desk, sticky notes stuck to every part of the wall and desk. Bill heard you walk in and shot up from his chair. “Oh, am I glad to see you!” Bill approached you with open arms.

“What are you doing, Bill?” You tried your best to sound menacing but your voice betrayed you. “I’m just trying to convince your dad to talk to me again. Do you think that’s possible?” He grabs your arm and pulls you to the desk. “Or maybe shedding your blood on the post-it notes would fasten the process?” His hands dig in the cabinet, pulling up a box cutter. You watch in horror as the blade pops out. “My blood won’t solve anything!” You said, trying to yank your arm away from his grip but it was too tight. “Then should I spill your blood and his?” He has the blade to your arm and you do your very best to stay still. Any movement and you'll surely rip some skin open. You sit in a pool of your own anxiety, waiting for Bill to slash your arm open but he never does. He drops the box cutter and shoves you. “Doing that will only make him hate me even more!” He yells, bashing his head on the wall repeatedly. 

“Hey!” You pull him back by the shoulder. “Are you trying to give yourself a headache!” Bill ignores you and sits back down on the chair, obsessively writing post-it notes where he begs for Ford’s forgiveness. And for a while, that’s how they communicated. Through notes. At some point, the whole room was covered in writings of both Bill and Ford. When that didn’t work, he tapped a snake to Ford’s journal. It was back and forth of childish antics between the two of them.

The more this progressed the more sleep deprived Ford became, the more paranoid he grew. “There’s no other options left.” He said, running his hands down his head. “I was stupid to believe I could defeat Bill and I thought Fiddleford would’ve had something, but he didn’t. Just a ripped up picture of us from college.” In his hands were the two pieces of the photo. You reached a dead end and you’re not sure if you can escape this one. “Has Fiddleford answered your calls?” He asks, thumb caressing the photo of Fiddleford. 

“He answered.” You crack your fingers. “He, uh…Doesn’t remember us.” 

“What do you mean he doesn’t remember us?” 

“I don’t know, he just asked who I was and why I kept calling. And when I told him about you and me he said I got the wrong person and hung up.” Heartbreak, after heartbreak. Nothing good seemed to come out of this situation and you were growing tired of all of it. You haven’t even gone outside to catch a breath of fresh air. You were too afraid Bill was lurking, waiting for you to be alone so he could find a twisted way to convince Ford to be on his side again.

Ford clenched the hand where the photo of himself was. Tears dripped from his eyes and down to the floor. “I’m so sorry for pulling you into this, kiddo.” He says. “You didn’t know that this was going to be the outcome, Dad. It’s okay.” You pull him for a hug. “I was so obsessed with finding answers that I–” Ford stopped himself with a garbled sob. “You didn’t know, Dad.” This was all too real, all too scary. You didn’t even want to think about how it would end. 

The months passed through your fingers and before you could sit back and relax, winter was here. Your favorite season. You were unsure on how to feel. The last winter was filled with memories to remember but thinking back on them only brought a chill to your heart. One day, a knock was heard from outside. “Dad!” You run over to get him, your heart bashing against your ribcage. “There’s someone at the door.” A year prior to this, you would’ve been more than happy to open the door, but considering what has happened the last few months, anything that dealt with leaving home was mind numbingly terrifying. “It’s okay. If anything happens, hide in the lab.” 

Arming himself with a crossbow, he opened the door. Aiming the crossbow at the person in front of him. “Well, I can always count on you for a warm welcome.” A gruff voice spoke. “Stanley,” Ford drops the crossbow. “Did anyone follow you, anyone at all?”

“Eh, hello to you too, pal.” Ford grabs him by the collar and pulls him in, shutting the door behind him. “[Name], flashlight please! And hurry!” Ford holds out his hand and you place the flashlight you found discarded on the floor in his hand. “W-What? Who?” Ford flashes the lights in his eyes. “Ah! Hey,” The man in the beanie pushes Ford’s hands down. “What is this?” Then his eyes trail over to you. “And who is this?” The gears turn in his head and his eyebrows furrow in shock. “You have a kid!” 

“That’s not the point.” Ford urged him to come in. He followed, his eyes never leaving you. “Hi, Uncle.” You nervously waved at him. “Does he talk about me?” Stan asks but he was pulled away from you before you could answer. Ford began spilling to him how he couldn’t trust no one, no one except him. Collecting all the books in his hands he went to the portal, you and Stan behind. 

Showing him the portal, he explained how he’s the only person he could trust with the last notebook. He tells Stan to sail far away to keep the book from getting into the wrong hands. ”That’s it?” Stan clenches the book in his hand, a scowl on his face. “I finally get to see you after 17 years and the first thing you tell me is to get as far away from you as possible?” 

“Stanley, you don't understand what we’re up against. What we’ve been through!” Ford walks past Stan, his hand gripping his hair. “We? C’mon, Stanford. Don’t tell me you dragged your kid into this.” 

An argument unfolded and no matter how hard you tried to stop them from fighting, they continued on. It got to the point where it got physical and where Stan got injured. Ford came to his side, asking if he was okay. Stan, overrun by anger pushed him, Ford’s back slamming against the lever which powered on the portal. Your stomach drops. Last time that portal was on, you lost Fiddleford, you can’t lose your dad too. 

Shoving the book into Ford’s chest was the last straw that broke the bridge. The portal sucked up Ford, suspended in the air he threw the book towards Stan. You ran over to grab your dad but he was too far beyond your reach. Your breathing was quickened and your head was spinning. You couldn’t believe this was happening. 

“Uncle Stan, do something!” 

“Stanley, do something!” 

His name was being shouted in his ears, overwhelmed he didn’t know what to do. Ford was fully sucked in and the portal shut off, blasting you and Stan back. When you recovered from the initial blast, you got up to your feet and grabbed the switch. You pulled with all your might, but nothing worked. “Uncle Stan!” You sobbed out. “Do something, please! Help me!” 

“K-Kid, I…” He walks towards you. His words were failing him, he didn’t know what to say. He had just ripped your father away from you and he lost his brother. Not knowing what else to do, he wraps you in a hug as you painfully sob into his jacket. 

“I’m sorry, kid.” 

@catr4dora @squ4respace i hope u guys liked it!! i wrote it with u guys in mind LMFAO and if u didn't im so sorry gulp

[typing-catastrophe]

could you write a stanford pines x reader headcanon where the reader is an artist and always draws him and draws in his journals when he isnt looking? maybe he talks to the reader about the drawings and they get really flustered i dunno!!! <3

oohhh! yeesss, that's a great idea! thank you anon ^^ hope this is okay, enjoy!

1.2k words, no warnings --------------------------------------------------

Your little habit started out even before Stanford came back. Dipper saw you sketching in your notebook from time to time, and asked you to draw something for him in the journal. He handed it to you and pointed next to a text he'd written about some anomaly (maybe a Manotaur or the Pterodactyl). First you were unsure, how would you feel if someone randomly decided to draw in your sketchbook? But it actually seemed really fun, and you didn't want to disappoint Dipper. Also it was in the spirit of research and preserving observations. And honestly, what were the odds the mysterious author would ever show up again?

With that attitude you began, whenever you got the chance to, to doodle yours and the twins encounters with the countless strange phenomena in gravity falls into the journal.

Well, oops? Seemed like the universe decided that not long after you started doing so, it was the right time for the author to come back.

It wasn't a big deal really, Dipper kept the journal for most of the time and Ford told him that he liked the additions he made. You weren't sure if he only meant the notes Dipper added, or if he even knew that someone else drew the newly added creatures.

It didn't take long for you and Ford to get to know each other better and spend more time together. Literally everything about him was just so fascinating. From the way he talked about his dimensional travels, anomaly hunts and research, his interest in a shared hobby of yours (dd&md), to the way he held himself. And, even if you were a bit embarrassed to admit it, his looks.

You couldn't help it, he was captivating. So to no surprise, one day you found yourself sitting on the shack's porch, looking over at Ford standing in the yard, working away at something that was too bulky for the basement. You didn't even realise what you were doing until something startled you out of your thoughts and you looked down at your sketchbook, seeing a familiar figure on the open page.

And then it happened again, in the lab. He was explaining away, deeply invested in whatever topic he was rambling about, not really taking in his surroundings. You had started out just sketching his study, but somehow he turned out to be the main focus of it.

One evening you found yourself in the living room of the shack. Ford was sitting on the floor, which was almost entirely covered in graph paper. You had joined him while he prepared the next campaign session, the tv quietly proving some background noise. While he was franticly scribbling away sheet after sheet, you propped open your notebook and began sketching some of the characters that came to your mind. Ford's, Dipper's and your characters and some npcs you encountered on your travels. But looming over all of them, half hidden behind the dm-screen, the scheming face of the man before you took his shape.

The end of the evening was rather blurry, you remembered falling asleep on the floor and being carried to bed, half asleep in someone's arms.

"hmm thank you", is all you could mumble when you felt the soft pillow under your head.

"No problem, dear", you heard a deep voice chuckle.

-

When you thought about it the next morning, a smile crept unto your face and you kinda wished, you would've been more awake, so you could've enjoyed the moment properly.

The smile was quickly wiped off though, when you realised that you must've left your sketchbook in the living room, given that Ford probably didn't bring it with him last night. You panicked and jumped out of bed, stumbling to the door when your gaze was caught by something. Your sketchbook, laying on your desk. You exhaled, glad it didn't lay around for anyone to see. You took it into your hands and opened it to the last page you were working on. But instead of the drawing from yesterday evening, only the one before that stared back at you. Confused, you turned the pages a few times, examined it, maybe someone ripped it out? No, no remnants of a torn out page....

Then, it dawned on you. You left your notebook in your room yesterday. You didn't plan on staying or even going to the living room. God knows how you ended up there, but it definitely was without your sketchbook. Which could only mean one thing...

In record time you were out the door, down the hall and in the living room. Right in time to take in the scenery of Ford staring down at his campaign notebook, opened to the page of your drawing.

"Ahh!! No no don't look!", you jumped forward and put your hands over the drawing. Ford furrowed his eyebrows, looking quite puzzled.

"This? Oh I already saw it last night after getting you to bed. It is incredible!"

Your cheeks heated up. "Oh" was all you could utter.

"It was also you who added the depictions of the twin's adventures, right?"

"Uhmm" You didn't keep your passion for drawing a secret, but you also didn't make a big deal out of it. And honestly, the way Ford was always so indulged in his own mind, you didn't think he was paying much attention to what you were doing. Now you felt a bit stupid for believing he wouldn't connect the - admittedly - obvious dots.

"They really are marvellous. And this?", he gestured to yesterdays page "Truly phenomenal!"

You didn't know what to say. You weren't even sure if you could say anything at all. All you felt was blood rushing to the tips of your ears and a flaming hot sensation in your cheeks.

"I- well uhm, thank you", you managed to stutter "I uh, I actually didn't mean to- uhm, use your campaign book. It was a mistake, I'm sorry."

"You've got to be joking! It's the perfect addition!" Ford exclaimed. "Do you mind if I keep it?"

"Oh", his enthusiasm caught you off guard. "I-, I guess not. Actually, that would mean a lot to me." you admitted sheepishly.

"Very well then! Thank you, dear." He looked at you with a fond expression.

You were about to retreat back to your room, turning around ready to leave, when Ford spoke up again, the smile apparent in his voice. "I also liked your artistic rendition of the twins adventures. Anything else you want to show me?" You froze.

Your heart started beating ridiculously fast. Did he knew? Did he notice you staring at him while drawing? Your thoughts started racing, but came to a sudden halt when he leaned down. His lips were almost touching your ear when he started to whisper.

"Maybe another time." And with that he walked by you, leaving you to yourself.

-------------------------------------------------- thank you for reading <3 reblogs are appreciated

a/n: if you want a second part with romance and/or where ford discovers the drawings of him, let me know! Have a nice day/night!

[viceroywrites]

deja vu - part three

planning out your road trip through the pacific northwest, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to the town of gravity falls.

little did you know that this town held more memories than you could have possibly imagined.

too bad you didn't remember any of them.

stan x fem!reader/ford x fem!reader

tag list: @awitchersbard / @theilluminatidragonqueen / @jazzypop-op/ @maryclanders/ @chaimshelii/@starship606/ @swimmingrascalbatdragon / @stanfordsbaby / @gxstiess / @skrunkle11 / @valinbean / @funkyenby / @therealgoofygoober69 / @theblueraven / @adrian920155 / @im-kinda-bored / @miarabanana / @uwauiss / @leo4242564 / @doggosnoodles12 / @soupieoopieisloopie / @zhungxi / @bandaids-n-porcelain / @marvelous-maniac / @opossumclown / @m4x-3dw / @nothingbutcloud / @reivelmin / @grimometry / @walmartjim / @adelezzxd / @reiofsuns2001 / @bunni-teeth81 / @marshnest / @satorisgirl / @symphology / @pen900 / @sometimesminsan / @creat0r-cat / @lackingoriginalthoughts / @fries11 / @sunniskyies

choose your own ending / contains fluff and angst (w/ happy ending)

part two | part four

The three of you sat in the impressive living room, Ford and you sitting on the couch while Fiddleford lounges in the loveseat, his feet propped up on the coffee table.

“You were able to sell those patents to the government and that’s how you got this place!” You say in glee, your lips spread into an excited smile, “I told you your inventions were going to get you places, Fiddleford!”

“Aw shucks, you flatter me too much. Glad this noggin of mine finally got put to good use!” Fiddleford said bashfully, knocking on his skull, “So Stanford told me you got a job in the National Parks! Find any gold while surveying?”

“No gold yet but I’ve found a few gemstones that I ended up pocketing instead of just documenting them.” You admitted with a sly smile.

The two of you laughed and chatted like time had never passed. Meanwhile, Ford watched with a wistful smile, wishing to hear you be just as comfortable with him as you once were. Though in the back of his head, he recognized that once your memories return, you may never want to speak to him again.

“Ford, what did you end up doing after all these years? I’m sure something exciting with 12 PhDs.” You ask with a curious tilt to your head. You tried to loop him back into the conversation, feeling guilty that you and Fiddleford had spent most of this time catching up with one another with Ford sitting there observing quietly.

“Oh… well..” Ford stammered, caught off guard by the question. He glanced over at Fiddleford who gave him a sympathetic look before giving a nod of encouragement, “I decided to study anomalies with my grant money. Gravity Falls is actually chalk full of them, hence why I ended up here. Fiddleford actually came out here from Palo Alto to help me with my research.”

“Really? I’m surprised we didn’t meet when I had visited him years ago but you must have been busy with your research, right?” You question, not knowing the weight of the situation that you had left years ago. Ford and Fiddleford exchanged tense glances which caused you to sit up right, “Is.. everything okay?”

-

The previous evening, Ford had decided to give Fiddleford a call preemptively before bringing you over to get some answers of his own. 

After the second ring, Ford heard a “Yello?” from his old friend and sighed, trying to keep his composure. He was ready to start a tirade of questions but he attempted to remain cool, not wanting to alienate his friend that he just got back.

He didn’t want to go in blind with the assumption that Fiddleford’s memory erasing gun was the cause of your memory loss, when there could be a laundry list of potential conditions you may have that could have caused this amnesia.

“Sorry to disturb you at such a late hour, Fiddleford. I have some news that can’t wait until the morning.” Ford says, leaning against the wall while twirling the cord of the phone in between his fingers.

“Sure, what is it, pal? I’ve been working on a new patent so I need a break anyways,” Fiddleford says on the other end, removing his green glasses and moving to the rocking chair in the corner of the room.

“Well, do you remember Y/N? Our friend from Backupsmore and my… ex-lover.” Ford hesitates during the last part. 

Ford hears a hitch in his friend’s voice along with shuffling on the other end before hearing a response, “Yes, I remember her.”

Ford inhales sharply before letting out a deep sigh, “Well, she’s in Gravity Falls. My brother stumbled upon her after her car broke down in the woods and brought her back to the Mystery Shack.”

“W-Well, isn’t that exciting. We should catch up, shouldn’t we?” Fiddleford says with an anxious edge to his voice.

“Fiddleford…” Ford’s voice is stiff as his worst fears feel like they are already confirmed, “Why does she not remember me?”

Apologies spill from Fiddleford, the anxiety in his voice mounting, “I-I’m so sorry, Stanford. At the time, I thought it was the only way we were going to get through everything we saw, everything we experienced.”

Ford swallowed the lump in his throat, not knowing whether to comfort his friend or to lash out on him for doing such a thing. Hearing those words was like swallowing a bitter pill. He remained silent, letting Fiddleford ramble on to get more details.

“She came to me in tears… she just kept saying over and over that she wanted the pain to go away.” Fiddleford explained, beginning to pace around the space. 

“So you just took her memories, just like that? Specifically her memories of me? Because she remembers you just fine!” Ford’s frustration finally comes out. His right hand balled into a fist, his left clutching the phone tightly. 

Fiddleford winces at the harshness in Ford’s voice, memories of their last fight flashing back but he knows he has to face it rather than running away like he did all those years. He takes a deep breath before sighing, “Stanford, she asked me to erase her memories.”

Ford feels his heart drop and his stomach in knots, almost dropping the phone. 

Is this what heartbreak felt like?

Why would you want to forget him?

Was what he did all those years ago so horrible that you wanted to erase his very existence from your mind?

Ford struggled to find the words but was able to muster out, “It’s… not your fault, Fiddleford. It’s mine. I put you both through hell during my quest for knowledge.” 

Fiddleford paused before responding back shakily, “You don’t need to keep apologizing, friend. Bring her over tomorrow, hopefully we can jog her memory.”

Ford let out a sigh, “Alright, also if you have literally anything from our time from college, please retrieve it to show it to her. That’s what helped bring back Stanley’s memories - any physical reminder of the memories.”

They both said their good nights before hanging up the phone. Ford slides against the wall in defeat, reaching up to run a hand over his face underneath his glasses before pausing as he feels the wetness against his eyes. 

He hadn’t even registered the tears that began to prick the inner corners of his eyes.

-

Fiddleford gets up from his seat, excusing himself abruptly to retrieve something in the other room. Your question remains unanswered and hangs in the air as Ford refuses to meet your gaze, seemingly invested in the stray thread on his sweater.

“Something must have happened when I was out here all those years ago…” You mutter, staring down at your feet, “It affected us, didn’t it? Whatever we were…” You trail off. You had put some of the pieces together that your relationship with Ford prior must have carried a heavy history.

Ford continues to play with the thread, the silence slowly eating away at him before he finally responds, “It did. Not only you and I but my friendship with Fiddleford as well.” He wrapped the thread around his index finger, “It might come as a surprise, but Fiddleford and I just rekindled our friendship this past summer.”

Before you can reply, Fiddleford comes back into the room, holding a cardboard box in his bandaged hands. He unceremoniously dumps it onto the table before flopping back down onto his chair. His light-hearted demeanor had shifted to one of anxiety. 

“Listen, Y/N… I have to admit something to you that you might not like… ah jeez..” Fiddleford stumbles over his words, craving an escape from this situation. 

“Whatever it is, as long as it gets me closer to understanding what’s going on, I promise I won’t be upset at you.” You try to reassure your friend, looking over to Ford to help back you up. Ford’s gaze softened, nodding in understanding, “It’s going to be alright, Fiddleford.”

Fiddleford feels comfort in his close friends’ reassurance, taking a deep breath before rambling out an explanation that’s barely coherent, wanting to get it off his chest immediately, “I created an invention that wipes people’s specific memories called the Memory Gun! I even used it on myself and my mind was gone for decades. Basically I erased your memories all those years ago and that’s why you don’t remember Stanford! There I said it!”

Ford winces at his friend’s delivery, realizing maybe he should have taken the lead to reveal this information to you in a more tactful way. 

Your eyes darted between Ford and Fiddleford, letting out a nervous chuckle, “Real funny guys… did you two plan this prank over the phone last night?” The story presented to you seems preposterous, out of a science fiction novel.

However, when Ford and Fiddleford stare back at you with solemn gazes, you realize that this story is the truth. 

It explained the gaps of time during your time in college that you could not recall.

It explained the dreams you had every night of a person that you could never see the face of.

Your memories of Stanford had been somehow wiped from your brain.

You sit there, processing this information in silence. Fiddleford almost seems like he’s bracing for impact, ready for you to lash out at him for doing such a thing. Ford sits rigid beside you before getting up suddenly. Both you and Fiddleford look up in confusion as he reaches into the box that Fiddleford placed on the table.

His fingers pluck out what seems to be a photo and walks over to you. His warm, calloused hand brushes against yours, placing it into your hands. Staring down at it, you see younger versions of yourself, Ford and Fiddleford.

Ford was decked out in a doctoral graduation cap and gown that swallowed up his frame, a wide grin spread across his cheeks. He had his arm around Fiddleford’s shoulder, who wore a green button up shirt, brown slacks and a pair of cowboy boots. In his hands he held a sign that said ‘10 Doctorates Down, 2 More to Go’. You were wearing a flowy dress and were on Ford’s left side, his six fingers holding you by the waist.

“This was taken on one of my many graduation days, you and Fiddleford attended every single one and were cheering me on in the crowd.” Ford explains, beckoning Fiddleford to come over and look at the photo. Fiddleford hesitantly gets up from his chair, sitting next to you.

“Listen, I know you may have a lot of questions about how this even happened. I promise that in time, Fiddleford and I will tell you everything that led up to the erasure of your memories. But you need the rest of your memories for any of this to make sense.” Ford says, staring into your eyes and resting a hand on your shoulder. 

His mantra after Bill wreaked havoc in his life had been Trust No One.

Yet he asks you to do the one thing that he could not do back then, “Can you please trust us?”

A mixture of emotions - confusion, hurt, anger - ran through you and you weren’t sure which one to listen to. As you looked back down at the photo, your thumb ran over where Ford was, covering up his face. Without him there, the image looked… empty.

You look up at Ford, “I’m trusting you and Fiddleford… I want to get my memories back.” You pause before continuing your statement, “How I feel about the both of you after I get them back, we’ll have to wait and see.” 

Ford nods in understanding, knowing that you rightfully had your guard up. Fiddleford breathes a sigh of relief, still feeling the need to apologize, “I’m really sorry for putting you in this predicament, Y/N… I hope you’ll forgive me.” You stare at your old friend, knowing from experience that this man had a heart of gold. As confused as you were, you try to believe that Fiddleford had to have done it for some good reason.

You quickly envelop Fiddleford into a tight hug, squeezing him tightly. He squeaks in surprise and you mutter, “Whatever the reason you erased my memories is…I know you have a good heart. I’ll forgive you, Fiddleford.” You feel his flimsy arms return the embrace, and you two sit there for a bit before pulling apart.

“Alrighty then, let’s get those memories back!” Fiddleford says, getting up and rummaging through the box to retrieve a textbook that spelled out ‘Quantum Mechanics.’ 

You all collectively shuddered at the sight of it, groaning in unison, “Ugh, quantum mechanics” before bursting out into laughter at your shared reaction.

“Dear god, that class was terrible! Not because of the content but our professor!” Ford groaned, “I swear he spent more time teaching us about his conspiracy theories than actually covering the equations needed for our assignments.”

“Stanford, I think you might be the only one who actually enjoyed the content of it, me and Y/N were ready to pull our hair out every single class.” Fiddleford chuckled before passing the textbook over to you.

You look down at it, brushing off the dust. A wave of nostalgia hits you as you flip through the pages, remembering the sensation of your cheek being pressed against those pages before jolting up, trying to wipe off the stray drool that had accumulated on the corner of your lip. You had fallen asleep in class again, a gentle hand shaking you awake.

You pause before staring up at the both of them, “Oh my god, I think I remember something.”

“You would wake me up whenever I’d fall asleep in lecture, Ford.” You say, the memory coming back to you with more clarity, “I always nodded off in that class since it was 8 AM and I usually stayed up the night before studying for exams.”

Ford and Fiddleford both look at each other before grinning widely. “It’s starting to work!” Fiddleford says excitedly, ready to fish out another object out of the box.

“Jeez, how much stuff do you have in here?” You chuckle, getting up from your seat to crowd around the box. Your eyes scan through the assortment of objects - old textbooks from physics and mathematics courses, decor from Backupsmore and a few older photos strewn about.

“I didn’t realize you kept all these things from college, Fiddleford.” Ford says, following behind you. “I didn’t either, guess I lost track of where everything was after my mind got scrambled. Tate found most of this stuff in a box that I apparently had stashed underneath my cot when I was living at the shack.” Fiddleford chuckled, scratching the back of his head.

The three of you spent the next hours sifting through the contents of the box and with each item plucked from the box, a memory from college returned as you pieced together the fragmented slivers in your mind. Some memories did not come as quickly, causing you some frustration but you put them to the side, cataloging it for later.

Soon the sunlight that leaked through the windows began to turn into a warm orange, signaling the sunset approaching. Ford had tried to hide an embarrassing photo from you and Fiddleford which resulted in you trying to wrestle it out of his hand playfully. You ended up snagging it from his six-fingered hold after he got flustered when you started getting closer to him, practically on his lap, to try and retrieve it.

The last photo was a polaroid of Ford with his face buried into your neck, a few beer bottles littered around him. Fiddleford was clearly holding the camera, his thumb sticking out in the foreground in a thumbs up. ‘Happy 21st, S.’ was scrawled out at the bottom, slightly faded over time.

“You were a light-weight, weren’t you?” You say cheekily to which Ford crosses his arms in protest, “It was my first time drinking, what did you expect?”

Fiddleford watched contently before seeing the sunset start to creep in, “Aw shucks, the sun’s about to set. Ya’ll should head out before it gets too dark. I know this one isn’t the best at driving in the dark.” He said, jerking a thumb over at Ford.

“I didn’t realize this was a gang-up on Stanford Pines session.” Ford huffed, getting up from his seat on the floor. You follow suit, grabbing the stack of photos that had piled up and placing them in the box before asking Fiddleford, “Mind if I take the box with me, Fiddleford? I’m hoping the more I look at them, more memories will pop up.”

Fiddleford nods eagerly, “Absolutely, Stanford can give you my number if you have any questions for me. I’m sure you’ll have a ton… after you get all your memories back.” He trails off, knowing the journey ahead to recovering your memories may come with some mixed emotions.

You give Fiddleford another tight parting hug, squeezing him almost like you may not see him again. You follow Ford out, placing the box carefully into the back seat of the red convertible before driving back down the hill.

You spent most of the drive taking in the sight of the golden hues over the lush forest. Occasionally, Ford uses his peripheral vision to take a glance at you, seeing how the gemstone around your neck glows against the sunlight. 

You catch him glancing once and he quickly shifts his focus back on the road, his chest puffing and his posture stiff. Your lips curl in amusement at how he tries but fails to be subtle. It’s quite charming - you were starting to see how you fell for him in the first place. “So… our relationship clearly wasn’t platonic, was it?” You ask suddenly.

Ford almost swerves off the side of the road at your question, quickly straightening his wheel as your hand reaches for the grab handle. “I didn’t realize you had put that together already..” Ford stammered before apologizing for his driving.

“Even if none of my memories had come back today, it’s pretty easy to pick up from the photos, especially the last one.” You chuckled softly before pausing. You mull over what to say next before finally speaking up, “I’m guessing we… didn’t end on the best terms, did we?”

Ford’s fingers gripped the steering wheel tighter, his expression tense. He looked defeated - weighed down by the weight of the negative effects that his desperate chase for knowledge had on his loved ones. 

Stanley, Fiddleford, you. 

Ford lets out a heavy sigh, “No, we didn’t… and it is my fault. I was on this never-ending journey trying to prove my worth but in the process, I pushed away those who saw my worth just the way I was.” He looks out into the horizon, seeing the sun begin to disappear between the Floating Cliffs. “If you will allow me, I really hope I get the chance to undo my mistakes and mend our relationship… just like Fiddleford and I have.” His eyes meet yours and your expression looks conflicted… almost like you can still feel the remnants of pain that he had caused all those years ago.

“Listen, Ford… I would like to start on the path of healing what happened in the past but I just got back memories from college. I am sure there’s a few more years of history up ahead… one step at a time, okay?” You explain, wanting to level his expectations. Ford nods in understanding, giving you a sad smile, “Understood, apologies for getting ahead of myself.”

As you made your way back down the winding hills, you both sat in silence the rest of the way back to the Mystery Shack. Pulling in front of the cabin, Ford shifts the car into park and clears his throat, catching your attention, “You aren’t planning on leaving tomorrow, correct? Stanley had mentioned that you had a whole trip up to Seattle ahead of you.” 

You stare deadpan over at him, “Ford, I literally was just told today that a good chunk of my memories are gone. Do you really think I’m worried about my trip?” You say with an eyebrow raised. Ford blinks at your response before rubbing the back of your neck, “That’s very true, I just want to make sure I wasn’t holding you hostage in figuring this out.”

You shrug casually, “Unfortunately, I can’t just pick up and leave knowing I don’t have a good chunk of my memories.” You smile, despite everything, you were grateful for this unexpected detour. You got to reconnect with an old friend, still got to enjoy some beautiful scenery and the free lodging didn’t hurt. “Besides, Gravity Falls seems like it has its own charms I can appreciate. I’m curious about the anomalies you came out here to study - everything seems pretty normal other than those floating cliffs we passed on the way down.”

A spark lights up in Ford’s eyes the moment you mentioned anomalies, seeing him grin in absolute glee. “Well, there’s a whole bunch out there, the Floating Cliffs is truly only scratching the surface of what oddities this place has to offer. I would love to take you anomaly hunting some time. Obviously nothing too intense, I wouldn’t want you getting hurt.” He realized what he had just said and began to stammer, backtracking his offer, “B-But only if you’re comfortable with that, of course.”

You giggle at his awkward charm, “I would like that. Maybe tomorrow?”

Before Ford can reply, both of you are startled by the sudden rapping of knuckles on the glass of the driver’s side window. You quickly whip your heads to see Mabel grinning, her braces on full display as she stares at the two of you through the glass. Ford rolls down the window, “Mabel, how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough,” Mabel says before whipping out her phone to reveal a slightly blurry photo of you and Ford smiling at one another from an awkward angle, “to take this photo!” Ford blinks, his eyes adjusting to look at the photo before staring at it perplexed, “I still don’t quite understand how this small contraption holds a camera in it.” 

You laugh at Ford’s statement, leaning over his shoulder to take a look at the photo, “What, you don’t know how a cell phone works? Are you sure I'm the one who had their memories wiped?” Ford’s cheeks feel warm as he can feel the heat and weight of your body pressed against his back, “Great photo, Mabel. How was the roller rink?” You quickly change the subject, starting to pick up on Mabel’s matchmaking  tactics.

“It was great! My friends, Grenda and Candy, and I had a slurpee chugging contest to see who could get brain freeze the fastest!” Mabel explained excitedly. “I’d love to hear more about it, how about we head inside?” You say before pulling away from Ford to exit the car and follow Mabel back into the Mystery Shack.

Ford sat there in disbelief, his brain short circuiting over how your body felt against him as well as the prospect of going on a pseudo-date with you, before resting his head directly on the steering wheel, the horn echoing through the forest. You look back in alarm and glance over at Mabel, “Uh, is your Grunkle okay?” 

Mabel looks back and shrugs, as if it’s a common occurrence, “Probably, Dipper does that too against the wall when he’s overthinking something.”

You sat on the floor of the living room, listening to Mabel excitedly tell you about her adventures with her friends with Ford joining shortly after his malfunction in the car.

Dipper came downstairs, having spent most of the day reading over a strategy guide for Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons that he wanted to go over with Ford, which led Mabel to recount her day again to the new audience member. 

“So, Y/N, was the trip to see Old Man McGucket a success? Did you get some of your memories back?” Dipper asks. You blink before realizing he’s referring to Fiddleford, nodding in response. “Yeah, thankfully, he had some stuff from your Grunkle Ford and I’s time at Backupsmore that helped jog some memories. Not 100% there but we’re getting there.” You share, “We actually brought some of it home to help continue to jog my memories.”

“Wait, are there photos? I wanna see young Grunkle Ford and Old Man McGucket! Grunkle Ford lore!” Mabel asks excitedly. You turn to Ford who seems reluctant to share with the kids, “Well, up to you if you wanna show them.” Ford hesitates for a second but the moment he sees Mabel flash the dangerous puppy dog eyes that Stanley warned him about, he’s easily persuaded, “Alright, I’ll go get the box.”

You spend the rest of the evening showing the twins memories from the past with Ford filling in some of the gaps you couldn’t quite remember still. Dipper and Mabel laugh at the sight of Fiddleford with a horseshoe mustache with Ford insisting that it was in fashion at the time. You smile at the sight of the family bonding before realizing a member was missing.

“Hey Dipper, is your Grunkle Stan not back yet? It’s getting a bit late.” You ask suddenly. Dipper takes a moment before snapping his fingers, “He mentioned something about not waiting up for him. He didn’t say where he was going, just said he was gonna be out late.” You look over to Ford who simply shrugs, “My brother is one of the toughest people I know, throws a mean left hook. He’ll be fine.” Based on everyone’s nonchalant reactions, you decide to trust that this was a normal occurrence.

The night ends with Mabel gushing over the polaroid that she found of you both, leading Ford to chase her around the Shack trying to retrieve it from her. Dipper and you doubled in laughter, watching the antics unfold.

Ford ended up stuffing it in his pocket, wanting to have at least one piece of your shared history to hold onto himself.

-

He wasn’t in bed… again.

You wake up yet again to the left side of the bed empty, the sheets feeling cold to the touch. The moon barely seeps light through the triangle shaped window, allowing your eyes to adjust quickly to the sight. Your eyes glance out the window. The forest is dusted white, snow coating the treetops and causing the glass to frost.

You begin what felt like a nightly routine at this time, sliding out of the bed. Your eyes are still heavy with sleep, rubbing them roughly. You slide on your slippers and make your way to the basement.

At this point, you don’t even need a light to guide the way, navigating through the dark cabin with ease. The wind howls harshly outside, its echo traveling through the quiet house. 

You finally arrive, shuddering at the sudden temperature drop from the upstairs to the basement. You push open the metal door. The lab is quite messy, sticky notes with equations plastered all over and triangle-shaped figures littered around it. You see the familiar figure, frenetically writing in the red journal in front of him as the metal door creeks to signal your presence.

“Ford?” You call out, walking towards him, “Are you alright?” You ask, something felt off with the way he was acting as you walked in. Even when he would reach a breakthrough in his research, he would jot notes down with a quick yet methodical manner. Just glancing over his shoulder, the writing looked messy & chaotic compared to his neat cursive.

You placed a hand on his shoulder, causing him to halt his actions. His hand reached up, placing it atop yours. 

However, rather than stroking the back of your hand like he normally would, he gripped it tightly, causing you to wince in response.

“Ow, Ford, what the hell?” You mutter, trying to shake your hand loose.

The grip only tightened as Ford’s head turned, bright yellow eyes staring back at you.

“Well, well, well, nice to finally meet you, Y/N.” 

You jolt awake, a thin sheen of cold sweat coating your body. Your heart practically jumps out of your throat as you look around frantically. For what, you’re not sure but your body goes into fight or flight, tossing the blankets off. The air around you feels thick and the room feels like it's closing in on you.

Your feet move automatically, rushing quickly out of the room and ascending up to where the attic floor is. You make your way down the hallway, slipping past Dipper and Mabel’s room to a hatch in the ceiling. You tug on the rope that dangles from the handle, opening it to reveal a set of stairs. You make your way up them before pushing a door that brings you to the rooftop ledge.

A gust of fresh air hits your face and you finally feel like you can breathe as you take a seat on the ledge. Placing a hand over your chest, you attempt to slow down your breath, inhaling through your nostrils and exhaling through your mouth. After finally grounding yourself, you stare up at the night sky, trying to make sense of what you just dreamt.

That was clearly a memory but why was Ford acting that way?

Why did it terrify you to the core, a knot in your stomach as you remember the yellow hue in his eyes?

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of car tires running over the lawn. You look down to see your car with its bright headlights illuminating the bottom of the Mystery Shack before shutting off. Stan steps out of the car, wearing all black attire and a set of black gloves, whistling nonchalantly as he makes his way to the trunk to pull out the car battery.

He hasn’t noticed your presence yet so you decide to call out, “Late night, huh?”

“Hot belgian waffles!” Stan semi-curses, almost dropping the car battery on his foot as he whips his head around before staring up to see you sitting on the rooftop in your pajamas. “How the hell did you get up there? Why are you even up there, it’s like 2 AM?”

“Did you really just say hot belgian waffles?” You can’t help but say with a tired grin, Stan’s antics taking your mind off your anxiety attack. “Had a bad dream, needed some fresh air… somehow I remembered how to get up here, my memory’s starting to come back somehow.”

“I try not to swear in front of the kids, come up with whatever euphemism rolls off the tongue.” Stan says with a shrug, “Guess today was a success, mind if I join ya? I can never fall asleep right away, got too much adrenaline in my system.”

“Sounds like you had a wild night, you sure you just got my car battery?” You chuckle before nodding at Stan’s question, “Go ahead, I could use the company.”

Stan makes his way back into the Mystery Shack, putting the battery near his toolbox to work on tomorrow before trekking up the stairs. He winces, his back aching as he makes his way up the stairs, cradling his lower back, “Jeez, I should really install one of those stair lifts at this point.”

“I don’t think you’re quite that old to justify having one of those.” You grin, scooting over for Stan to have a seat next to you, both of your legs dangling off the ledge. “If I did, Mabel would probably just put Waddles on it and have him ride up and down the stairs the whole day.” Stan chuckled.

“So any new embarrassing stories about my brother I should know about?” Stan asked out of curiosity. Despite them spending the whole past year catching up, there were still parts of Ford’s life that were still a mystery to Stan. Almost 40 years of their lives and they had just scratched the surface. 

“Well, I learned he drank about 3 beers on his 21st birthday and was pretty much on the verge of passing out.” You shared, tapping your chin, “He also got into an argument with a professor when they asked him to write his papers in print instead of cursive.” Stan chortles, “Yeah, that sounds like Ford alright. I got to see how much of a lightweight he is this past year. I had to carry him back to the boat after we had a couple of drinks at a bar near the dock.”

You laugh, hearing that time had not changed much in that aspect. “I’m sure there’s more. College is a lot more clearer but everything after that is still a blur.” You trail off, still having mixed emotions about it.

Stan shifts slightly before speaking up, “Hey, uh…I’m guessing you found out that you got your memories erased, right?” You nod, eyebrow raised in confusion at how Stan knows this. 

“Well, from one person who had their memories erased to another, don’t be too hard on yourself when you can’t remember. I swear there’s still stuff that the kids will tell me that takes me a minute to recall. Sometimes I don’t even remember and just try to play it off so they don’t worry.” Stan offers in a sympathetic tone.

“Jeez, Fiddleford used the Memory Gun on you too? How many people has he used it on?” You say in surprise, even more confused than you were earlier about the whole situation.

Stan sees your state of disbelief and chuckles, “I had the same look on my face when my brother roped me into all this. Ford’s actually the one who used it on me… it’s a long story but the point being is that, you’re gonna find out a lot of things that are gonna confuse the hell out of you. You’re also going to remember… a lot of painful memories.” 

“My brother and I seem close now but we weren’t talking for years… and I had to relive and relearn all of that when getting my memories back. It sucked, it felt like I was being punched in the gut every time.” Stan sighs before smiling sadly, “I’m sure you’re gonna feel the same way… I don’t know what exactly happened between you and my brother but I know Ford’s gonna try whatever it takes to make things right by you.”

“Thanks, Stan. I appreciate it, makes me feel less guilty for not remembering everything.” You say with an appreciative smile before shivering slightly at the sudden breeze that picks up. Stan notices this and shrugs off his leather jacket. Shaking your head in protest, you’re quickly silenced as Stan places it on your shoulders.

You bring the material close to your frame, feeling how warm it is from Stan’s body heat. “Thanks again, I’m really looking forward to getting my memories back..." You glance at your car, a reminder of your original plans for the summer. "Well, guess I gotta return all that camping gear I bought.” You chuckle, gesturing towards the camping gear mounted to the top of your car.

Stan looks at the gear and then back at you before offering, “Why not just go camping out here? There’s a campground like half an hour away we could set up at - I’m sure the kids would love to tag along too, they’ve been itching to do stuff while they’re here for the summer.” 

“Like all of us go? You think Ford would be up for that?” You ask, actually liking the idea of camping with the Pines family instead of going solo. 

“If he gets to spend time with you, yeah, he’ll go.” Stan scoffs.

You pause before grinning, “Guess we should start planning.”

[strawburry01]

The Scientist

Ford Pines x Fem! Reader

Summary: Bill disrupts a wedding

Word Count: 3k

A/N: I highly recommend reading all previous parts before this for maximum oof-age. I hope you enjoy and I'm sorry I get great satisfaction from writing unhappy things. 500 likes and I'll write their happy ending.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 2.5

It had been a few years since you and Ford moved to Gravity Falls now. You finally moved from your ramshackle cabin into a cozy wooden A-Frame (you insisted on an A-Frame as you always loved the way they looked). Ford and you had worked on building a deep lab in the basement in order to keep it safe from the random storms and power outages, while you kept your growing photography and videography library upstairs. You collected random antiques from stores and sidewalks to add to the house to make it feel a little more lived in. Ford chuckled as he watched you perfectly balance an ornate hourglass you had bought on top of a jammed globe. Satisfied you brushed the dust off your hands and stepped besides Ford to look at your growing mantelpiece.

“I’m thinking about going into interior design if this whole cryptid hunting stuff doesn’t work out,” you grinned. Ford scoffed and put an arm around your waist to pull you closer.

“The whole cryptid hunting stuff is going fine though. I’m just having a bit of a plateau,” he mumbled as he kissed your head. You cleared your throat. “We- we’re having a bit of a plateau,” he quickly corrected himself, his face turning red. 

It was true, the hunting had been stalling a little bit. Ford’s focus had turned from recording these anomalies to trying to track where it was all exactly coming from. It was the real scientist in him needing to know where everything was coming from. On the opposite side was you, who was content to continue trying to get better pictures, better recordings, better visuals of these anomalies. Oftentimes you’d tape or clip pictures into Ford’s journals as you got better so they didn’t just have his scribbles to describe the beasts. You were happy for once in your life, you felt content living with the love of your life in a beautiful, albeit spooky, little town. You were pretty sure Ford felt the same way, if he ever let himself feel accomplished, rather than just continuing to pine over the next question and torturing himself over the solutions.

A few weeks later you woke up groggily checking the alarm. Ford had just slammed the front door and was stumbling back into the house. It was 3:00 am. 

“Hon?” you shouted out as you sat up in your shared bed. You heard him pause and slowly walk to the bedroom door. He stood in the doorway, staring at you for a second too long until shaking his head and snapping back.

“Hey, sorry about that dear, I um-” he said as he slid his shoes and coat off onto the ground, “guess I lost track of time in the cave I was exploring,”. He huffed and thumped into bed besides you as you went back under the covers.

“Are you sure?” you asked, as you carefully took his glasses off his face and set them on the nightstand.

“Mmmm, positive,” he said without hesitation as he traced along your arm with his eyes closed.

“Alright. Sleep well hon,” you said as you kissed his forehead and fell back into your own sleep.

Unfortunately he wasn’t quite the same after that night. He started spending longer hours in the basement. He started staring off into space noticeably more. And strangest of all he was talking to himself more. He was still the same Ford to you though, always snapping out of whatever trance he wrapped himself up into, and he was always endlessly grateful whenever you’d bring coffee or lunch down to him. He seemed revitalized in a sense though, so you didn’t want to discourage his new quirks. You finally did crack and force him to tell you what was happening when you caught him calling Fiddleford McGuckett one day.

“Stanford Pines you haven’t talked to that man since we left Backupsmore! What in the hell is going on?” you demanded with crossed arms as he hung up the phone. He opened his mouth and tried to start a sentence a few times. 

“I’m building a portal,” he finally stammered out. You raised an eyebrow. There were a few random metal supports and debris cluttered in the lab basement, but you had no inkling that’s what it was going to be used for.

“What kind…of portal?” you continued, unmoving. Ford awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and looked away again. 

“I’ve been consulting with someone. They said it would explain all the weirdness and strangeness of Gravity Falls,” he said. The room got cold when he said it.

“Who are you consulting Ford,” you asked again, trying not to overthink the way it really did feel like there was another person in the room now. 

“It was a deal. With someone, well, something, named Bill Cipher. He’s helping me with all of this. He’s a being from centuries ago, and that’s all I can really say,” he sighed, looking back at you, realizing how unsure of all of this you were. He stepped forward and held your hands in his. “I promise, it’s all okay dear. I’m being safe. This portal is what will put our names in the history books,” he said with a gentle squeeze. You looked up into his eyes and could see hope and excitement for the first time in a long time. 

“Okay…” you sighed with a small smile. Ford wrapped you into a hug and you laughed at him slightly crushing you. “Okay, okay, okay, just let me know what I can do to help huh?” you laughed with a sigh as Ford began rambling off all the next steps. 

Later that night you sat in your dark room, listening to the assorted thumps and sizzles from the basement. You could hear Ford talking to whoever this Bill person was. His high pitched shrieking of a voice was hard to miss. But you knew if you went downstairs there wouldn’t be anyone but Ford. You’d tried to catch Bill before, but to no avail. He always zapped out of existence whenever you would turn the corner. 

“Stupid to be jealous of a fuckin’ triangle,” you mumbled to yourself as you finished a glass of wine. You knew that much. That it was some sort of manic triangle. Ford had shown you that much in his journal. You walked down to your kitchen and left the glass in the sink.

“Ford! I’m going to bed!” you shouted down the stairs into the basement. You heard him scuffle and quickly run up the stairs. Your heart melted as he held your face and kissed you. 

“I’ll be there soon dearest,” he smiled. You smiled back and nodded. You were just overthinking everything. It was all going to be okay.

Fiddleford showed up a few days later and started joining Ford in the basement for long hours. Bill’s voice disappeared which was a nice break, and it was pleasant getting to talk to Fiddleford again after so many years. You would make dinner (or more often pick it up from some restaurant) and force the guys to come up and eat with you at the table. It was like you were all back in university. 

“So how long until there’s a mini Ford running around?” Fiddleford asked one night when you all decided to get into the liquor cabinet. Fiddleford was laying on the carpet, staring up at the ceiling, with you and Ford draped over the couch. Both of you reddened and avoided eye contact, unable to think of what to say.

“Well I’ve always thought I’d want to get married first,” you said, breaking the silence, “so the dress would fit, obviously,” you drunkenly giggled. Ford absentmindedly placed a hand on your knee and laughed as he took another swig of his drink. You two had talked about marriage once. Near the beginning of your relationship. You both had poor representations of marriage at your respective homes, which made you both hesitant of commitment to that scale, but you agreed to play it by ear. 4 years later you were still playing it by ear.

“What’re you WAITING FOR FORD,” Fiddleford drunkenly shouted from the floor, “We don’t have all day!” he declared before passing out in snores on the floor. You laughed and laid your head on Ford’s shoulder.

“He hasn’t changed much,” you giggled. 

“His tolerance hasn’t gotten much better either,” Ford remarked. You two both sat in silence listening to the hum of the generators. “Are you good dear?” he asked, obviously referencing Fiddleford’s outbursts.

“Yes love,” you sighed, as you closed your eyes.

It was another average drizzly pacific northwest day when shit hit the fan. You were sitting on the porch taking pictures of a deer nearby eating from a brush when the ground underneath you shook. You were used to random earthly shakings but Fiddleford quickly stormed out shortly after. 

“Fiddleford what’s-” you tried to ask as you stood up to follow after him. 

“Do NOT trust him!” he shouted as he threw open his car door, “That portal is nothing but pure evil Y/N. Get out of here while you still can,” he said with a furrowed brow before peeling away in his car. You stood in stunned silence as Ford threw the door open a few seconds later. He let out a defeated sigh as he saw Fiddleford driving away.

“What the hell did you do?!” you asked under your breath, not looking over.

“I-I don’t know,” Ford said, “he got sucked into the portal…and saw something,”.

“You’d tell me if we were in danger, right Ford?” you asked, as you finally looked over at him. He nodded silently. 

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he stated, “I’m not working with Bill anymore. It’s not worth it,” he sighed as he sat on the porch and held his head in his hands. “I got blinded by the potential for fame. It’s not worth losing my friends and love over,” he said softly. You sat down beside him and put an arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer. He wrapped his arms around your waist and the two of you sat still as the rain pattered around you. You never told him but you could feel him crying, just a little. 

Ford quickly began installing precautions to keep Bill out. He insisted on installing a plethora of metal plates around the house. He kept trying to convince you to get a metal plate installed in your head but you were able to convince him you weren’t in danger. You’d never seen Bill before. The rain turned into spring and flowers began to blossom around the yard. 

One day you were out picking them to make a bouquet for the dining table with Ford watching you on the porch. He was back to where he had been before meeting Bill, but he seemed more content. Outwardly at least. He read more, and criticized himself less. He was taking a break from reading when he saw you standing in the field picking flowers and kneeling by every animal you saw to say hello to it. At that moment he realized.

“Can we get married?” he asked, when you came back to the porch. You nearly fell backwards before jumping into Ford’s lap, knocking off his book, and smothering him in kisses.

“Of course we can Ford,” you said through your kisses.

It was a short turnaround. The next week Ford had found his suit and you had gotten a wedding dress from town. It was long and flowing and got Ford’s approval for having renaissance-esque sleeves and details, which made you roll your eyes a little. You two didn’t know anyone else in town well enough to invite them to a ceremony, and neither of you wanted to invite family. Ford felt guilty about having nobody so he invited the colony of gnomes in exchange for hors d’oeuvres. So that’s what was determined. You were able to scrounge up enough random chairs to have a few spots for them to sit with you and Ford facing each other in front. You had done your makeup and hair, which was the first time Ford had ever really seen you try to do something with your hair which left him slack jawed. All of the gnomes also oohed and awed when you stepped out. You smiled when you faced Ford. The two of you agreed to exchange vows and then you’d sign the marriage certificate and turn it in the next day at the courthouse. 

You bit your lip and opened your mouth to start when the ground shook and the string lights you had hung up went out. The power inside the house went out entirely. 

“Peculiar,” Ford said under his breath. 

“Just a moment folks, we’ll be right back after a few messages,” you said, trying to keep the crowd happy, “take a snack break,” you said, gesturing to the table of random snacks you’d gotten for them all. 

“I can turn the breaker back on downstairs,” Ford said as he stepped into the house.

“Here I think I have the flashlight,” you said as you thumped the flashlight you kept in the utensil drawer. It flickered to life. Ford took a second and nodded. The two of you made your way downstairs to the lab basement, Ford supplying a six-fingered hand to hold to make sure you didn’t trip. 

Once downstairs it was obvious that something was wrong. The portal was still up and whirring. A haze of blue swirls in its center.

“Ford I thought you turned this off,” you said.

“I couldn’t just- turn it off,” he mumbled under his breath rubbing the back of his neck, “it’s been months of work. I figured leaving it running and able to be returned to would be…fine,” he said sheepishly. You chewed the inside of your cheek, looking at it. He had a point, but it was also a memento to losing his dearest friend. Research be damned.

“Ford, I need to know you’re looking to the future and not staying in the past if we get married,” you said, feeling guilty about the ultimatum, but knowing it was the only way. He pushed up his glasses and nodded.

“You’re right,” he said, “besides, there’ll be something better than this piece of junk,”. He pushed the button on a platform and the portal quickly fizzled and closed in on itself, leaving the room engulfed in darkness for a second before the lights flickered back on overhead. 

“Hey look at that,” you remarked, looking up, “bet our electricity bill is about to get a lot lower mister,” you smirked as you tapped Ford’s chest.

“Stanford, you didn’t tell me she had a sense of humor!” a sickeningly familiar voice said. Ford quickly pushed you behind him as you both turned to see the floating triangle form of Bill Cipher in the air. It was your first time seeing the thing that had taken up so much of Ford’s time.

“Bill, why are you here? The deal’s off,” Ford shouted.

“I can’t believe I didn’t get an invite to the wedding! Keeping it intimate with just friends and family I see,” Bill continued on his own as his eye contorted into a video of the gnomes outside waiting.

“Answer the question Bill,” Ford demanded. You hadn’t seen him ever get this serious. 

“Well Fordsy you broke our deal, but don’t worry, there’s a way to get it back on track!” Bill’s voice pinged through the basement, “Y’see, you take something I love-” he said, blinking into the now empty space of the portal. You gripped Ford’s forearm.

“Ford I’m scared-” you said softly.

“I think it’s only fair if I take something you love,” Bill chirped, appearing in front of you two again.

“Don’t you dare Bill,” Ford shouted as he held your hand. 

“Not convincing! Boop!” Bill’s voice pinged and with that, you were gone. 

One moment you were on Earth, in your universe, and the next thing you knew you were falling through space and time, seeing eons of other planets pass by as you floated through free fall. 

After what felt like decades of falling through nothingness, but also everything, you slammed into the dirt of an apocalyptic planet. You grunted as you lifted yourself up, seeing the smoky, forgotten landscape stretch out in front of you. 

Fuck.

Back in the basement, millions of universes and timelines away, Ford screamed at Bill. 

“What did you do to her?!”.

“I evened the deal, Stanford calm down!” Bill responded, rolling his single eye, “besides she was getting in the way of your work, you should be thanking me,”. 

After that, Ford’s world changed. He installed a metal plate in his head to keep Bill out for good and got serious about trying to hide how to reinstall the portal. He hid his journals throughout the town and decided to call his brother to properly take care of the last one. Take it so far that nobody would ever find it. He’d get you back on his own. He’d figure it out. He just couldn’t let Bill ever get the satisfaction of the portal. 

There was a knock on the door and Ford kicked it open, crossbow aimed. It was his brother. He breathed out a sigh of relief and dragged him in.

“Damn what happened to this place? What happened to your woman Ford?” Stan asked, looking around the now cluttered house.

“He took my wife, and I need to make sure he doesn’t take anything else from anyone else,” Ford muttered, “listen there isn’t much time and I’ve made a huge mistake. I don’t know who I can trust anymore,”.

“Hey easy there let’s talk this through okay?” Stan said as he looked around the house, slowly realizing his brother may be crazy.

“I have something to show you. Something you won’t believe,” Ford sighed as he turned to face his brother.

“Look, I’ve been around the world okay? Whatever you’re going to show me I’ll understand,” Stan shrugged.

It was safe to say Stan did not understand. And Stan did not understand when Ford shoved the journal into his chest demanding his brother to take it to the ends of the earth to hide. 

It was safe to say that you and Ford were both tumbling through endless dimensions together, but also so far apart.

[baxndaid]

bill cipher , stanford pines x reader

ohh my god PLEASEE request stuff for gravity falls i love it so much ty for making a comeback!! i don’t normally do nsfw stuff but for them… nsfw under cut 💔 another one here

sfw

- gonna be honest, ford is a little control freak especially after he meets bill

- he likes things going according to his plans and calculations and if they don’t, then there’s clearly something wrong

- bill WOULD constantly inflate his ego so when ford had hired you to be his little lab assistant, it was a little suffocating

- despite this, he was super happy to learn that you were into the same things he was; anomalies

- ford was uptight and serious with you most of the time whereas bill was nonchalant and just a massive tease

- the demon didn’t really mind you, you were pretty open for anything and he, like ford, liked how you were a massive pushover

- on the other hand, bill disliked fiddleford because he asked too many questions, he was too wary (though he had the right to be)

- ANYWAYS, would ford and bill peer pressure you into letting yourself be possessed? yea..

- it’s not like ford was really in the right mindset to be making these huge decisions like the guy was crazy obsessed with bill

- he didn’t see the harm in it, bill was his muse after all and it was very valuable for his research! just do it!

- so you would, you still have a few scars on your thighs from bill’s obsession with pointy sharp things

- sometimes bill would prank you while being in ford’s body - not like you could tell the difference

- being all flirty while mimicking his voice and then yelling “JUST KIDDING!” before laughing obscenely in your face

- wow he loved humiliating you, it was almost as good as humiliating ford

- ALMOST

- they kept their plans pretty secret from you, only commanding asking you to get materials for the portal

- it’s kinda like that one meme that i see floating around;

you: what’s going on with the portal

bill/ford: don’t worry about it kitten

you: okay ❤️

you: yay ❤️

- they weren’t worried about you leaking anything, bill just liked keeping information from you to poke fun

- you were just in-flight entertainment, a plaything to bill, ford kept you as a means to keep himself grounded

nsfw

- you never really got intimate with ford, not like you didn’t want to but he was always so busy and it would technically be taboo considering he was your boss

- but he had to let off steam somehow, and his muse was here to help! consider the town SAVED ❤️

- with bill possessing him, “ford” would stuff his fingers down your throat and watch you gag

- i can’t even lie man if you vomited or something he’d probably get off to that more he’s a freak like that

- ford would gawk in horror as he watched himself bend you over onto his messy desk like a rag doll and rip the clothes off of your body

- bill doesn’t necessarily gain any sexual gratification from this, but he certainly “gets off” to it in some other twisted way

- he likes the control he has, your whining and ford’s gasps only egg him on further

- he likes to hold you down by your throat and make small cuts on your inner thighs while he sloppily eats you out, probably with anything that was lying around nearest to you, a pocket knife or even a unicorn horn

- SCRATCHES ohh my god this guy scratches so much somebody cut his nails

- fucking imbeds his damn fingers into your waist as he thrusts into you, all the while laughing like a madman

- the noise of squelching and muffled screams spilled from ford’s office, be glad your in the middle of the forest

- he 100% licks your tears away btw

- ford likes to act shocked or squeamish whenever bill does this to you but bill knows he loves it, and deep down inside he knows it too

- maybe not the “harming you” bit, but he loves everything else

- he’ll probably scold bill for being so rough with you but bill would probably lie and say “It was necessary! This is a whole NEW experience to me! You can’t deny me of that can you Sixer?”

- and then ford folds like a loser

- he’ll try and make it up to you by tending to your wounds and giving you a way lighter work load

- ford hopes that one day he’ll have enough confidence to be able to make love to you without his twisted muse butting in

- he kinda loves it bye

[callsigngrim]

Teachers pet

Stanford Pines x Gn reader(no description)

@moronic-validity

Warnings: angst ,age gap, student teacher relationship. Student is in early 20s, non descriptive sex scene. Stanford is a selfish man. Kissing. Mdni

The new substitute professor was handsome. Stanford Pines or Mr. Pines was a few years older than most of the students he was teaching. Awkward and a little on the odd side. There was no denying his passion for physics,and it translated into the way he taught his classes. He always made his lessons interesting, often showing practical examples, and invited his students to show off their work.

On one such occasion it was your turn. You would be embarrassed to admit to him just how much time and energy you had poured into the presentation. He didn't have to know that the only reason you haven't dropped the class yet was because of him. His praises and fawning over your work,the insistence on staying after class to discuss your work more in detail, the undivided attention he seemed to give just to you. Is what landed you in this mess in the first place.

It started out innocent,he would make you tea and the both of you would sit in his office unbothered discussing the work and upcoming projects. Until slowly the two of you stand talking about your school work less and less. You started getting to know him,and he learned about you. He opened up about his aspirations and dreams. You became a confidant to him clever with your jokes and wit it became routine. Every day the two of you would sit and talk about everything and nothing. You enjoyed the time together. Talking and laughing. Until it  wasn't just talking anymore.

Ford watched you from afar at first,you were a promising student. But he could see that you were slipping, small mistakes you usually wouldn't make. So he decided to take you under his wing,gently guide you without making it obvious to your peers. So he gives you more praise,pushing you a little more than the rest of his students. Small things that wouldn't draw attention to you and leave you at the mercy of jealous students and teachers.

But then he had to go and invite you to his office after school. And slowly his resolve started to slip. You were younger than him and his student. He should have drawn the line he should have been a stronger man. But he was a weak man who gave into temptation. Everytime you would smile at him and show him the slightest amount of kindness he fell deeper and deeper into oblivion.

The first time it happened it was like any other afternoon. He was showing you a new anomaly that he had been tracking, and you much like anytime he spoke to you and opened up about the things he enjoyed, looked at him eyes filled with awe and adoration, and in that moment his last bit of self control slipped. He pulled you in his lips, searing hot against your own. It's like the thin thread of student and teacher snapped. And it was just the two of you,nothing outside of his office meaning anything to you at that moment.

He took your breath away and made your knees weak with his insistent touches and the breathless sounds he made into your mouth. He was firm and hot against you. His slight stubble scratching against the sensitive skin of your neck as he trailed down to litter kisses there. You should have stopped him,pushed him away, done literally anything else except pulling him closer against you moaning his name out to the world.

This continued for weeks before the two of you fell into his bed together. His kisses made you weak, his taste had you addicted to him. But it wasn't enough. You wanted to see him completely. Mark him as yours even if you knew deep down that he never would be yours. People wouldn't approve, they would say he was taking advantage. They wouldn't listen if you all but yelled at them that you were just as responsible for what happened between the two of you as Ford was.

He wanted to end it. The guilt was slowly eating away at him. He was supposed to be level headed and better than his hormonal students. But here he was just as bad if not worse. And he had to stop it before things got out of hand even more than it already was.

He would gently tell you that this had to stop. He already signed the papers to transfer somewhere else when your actual professor came back after fully recovering. Despite the fact that he had been offered a permanent position. He had to leave not just for his sake, but for yours as well. He wouldn't be the reason that you lose your place at the university because of his lack of control.

Everything would be fine. But once again nothing was as simple as it was supposed to be. You had dressed up a little for the dinner he had invented you to. And with the wine he had served the nervous tension had slowly faded. And you were both chatting and laughing. Dinner was lovely and soon you two moved to the couch. But there was clearly something that was bothering Ford if the large space between the two of you was any indication. He wants to tell you,you used to be the easiest person to talk to. He wants to spill his heart out to you. To make you see who and what he really is. But he can't not when you're looking at him like that.

So like every time before he folds and he hates himself for it. But god he loves you, so he takes and takes because this will be the last time he'll have with you.

The moment your head hits his bed,Ford is on you like a man possessed. The gentleness he usually handles you with is gone, replaced by a hunger you have never seen in him before.

“Be good for me” he whispers against your parted lips. Before his tongue is lapping into the heat of your mouth. His hand is gripping your hip holding you in place as he grinds against you. You gasp at the friction,hot and heavy as he continues to touch you in all the places that leave you gasping for more. He fills you and it's warm and perfect. The two of you fit together perfectly. You wish this moment could last forever. 

Monday morning when you walk in your old professor is back and Ford is nowhere in sight. You choose to ignore the pit forming in your stomach. You'll see him this afternoon at his house. Everything is fine. Only it's not. He's gone, the only thing left is the leather bound journal he left for you with the landlord.

In it you find a note addressed to you.

I'm sorry for not being brave enough to tell you that I'm leaving. I was a coward for letting things go on for as long as they have. It hurts me to have to do this but I truly believe it's for the best. I would have held you back from your full potential. I hope this journal can be filled with your stories and discoveries. Take care.

He just left. Like what you had meant nothing. You throw the journal onto your nightstand. You want to cry and scream but you're too exhausted. So you sleep tossing and turning until eventually you give up. Switching on the lamp beside you something catches your eye. On the note there is a strange stamp on the back

“Gravity falls Oregon”

[velnoni]

Jesus, I LOVE how you interpret ford. Can NOT emphasize how much I enjoyed reading ur hcs for demi!ford! (and then I also have a much more personal appreciation as someone who’s prob demi. so, I’m excitedly shaking your shoulders a little.)

So how would things progress romantically for demi!Ford and reader, building off ur last set of hcs??

It's so nice to hear this, honestly 💓 and ofc, I'm glad you can enjoy these hcs on a deeper level! This ask is also gonna be a long one so buckle up.

Ford x Reader Romance Headcanons

Link to previous headcanon mentioned in ask

As mentioned in the last post, the two of you would consider a romantic relationship after Ford finished traveling with his brother. Something like traveling the world for anomalies would definitely take a minimum of a year to be frank. And you genuinely missed the guy. You missed the way he fixed his glasses (why doesn't he get a new pair?), the sassiness that came with him debuking theories, and his deep voice. Work wasn't the same without him.

Seeing postcards of him and Stanley always made you happy. And sometimes you would trace his clean penmanship in the letters he would mail to you. There would be days when you would receive multiple pages consisting of findings, personal life, and so forth. And you'd do your best by updating him about the Mystery Shack, your job & your own life in return. Because it was mail, there would be delays in the messages, but nothing neither of you could handle.

As time passed, the letters continued to pile in your drawer. You couldn't help but wonder if Ford and his brother would make it home safe. How does puncing an octopus in the eye even save the day? Those twins were such rascals, you swear.

Sometimes, you will dry out flowers and spray them with a light fragrance before mailing the letters away. Flower language is a wonderful thing, and on a particular night, you placed a chrysanthemum in the mail for the twins' safety. You were sure Ford would understand immediately.

The next letter you got back had a hydrangea. At some point as the days grew longer, you'd recognize your feelings towards Ford, especially after Mabel learned one summer you were the pen pal Ford spoke so fondly of.

When the brother touched back to land, you didn't find out until a couple of days after, both twins greeting you after work. You were incredibly excited over their return, noticing the differences in their behavior and how happy they both looked. The sea did them well, especially Ford. If your eyes lingered on him for a second longer, he didn't notice, but Stan will.

When Stan retires to bed, he shoots you two a wink, you being perplexed and Ford grumbling from his chest at his brother's implications. With the two of you alone, it reminded you both of when y'all started hanging outside of work. The night consisted of jokes, bantering, stories, and one too many cans of soda.

"May I be frank with you for a moment?" he asked. You turned your head in his direction and nodded, "What is it?" Ford would look away for a moment and then clasp his hands together, playing with his fingers, a tick of his when nervous. "S-Stan had told me recently you seemed interested in me. Ahem, well, allow me to elaborate. Romantically. Typically, I don't listen to Stan's gibberish, but he pointed out some discrepancies in your behavior." You made a small show of it by looking at Ford brown eyes and the way his peppered eyebrow creased in presumed concern. Leave to Stan to catch you red-handed. You reach out for an open bottle of soda and sip on the lukewarm contents. Ford was kind enough to be frank with you, and you appreciated that, a pro from a man of science.

"Yeah well...he's not exactly wrong." You swish the soda around in the can, wishing the sloshing sound could be more distracting than Ford's lips parting in surprise. "I genuinely do like you. You're a good man and company, Stanford. Got a few skeletons in the closet, but who doesn't? You're kind, enthusiastic about your work, and you're doing your hardest to move on. It's so easy to speak to you, and I really enjoyed your letters. It made life more bearable, y'know? And yes, I also see you as cute, but that's beside the point."

You glance at Ford, noticing how the tips of his ear were beet red and gave a tiny smile of reassurance. "Look, I wasn't planning on telling you at all. If this makes you feel uncomfortable, I can—" your cut off mid sentence when the older twin raised his hand to stop you.

"I'm sorry, I—" he coughs a bit and stares at you, clearly ready to speak. You prepare yourself to be let down gently. "I...I also feel this way towards you as well." You could hear the anxiousness in his voice and see how his lips turned down.

He would continue to confess about how you were someone he didn't want to let go of. But that even though he was confident enough that he had romantic interest, he was unsure how to go about it or if he wanted to tap into the potential of such a thing. It's been so long...

You reassure him he doesn't have to do anything and that you're happy he would be so open about it towards you. You can't help but chuckle at the irony of it all— the both of you felt like teenagers. He questions you about relationships, your experience, expectations, and so forth, and you answer to the best of your ability.

In the end, you two decided to give it a go. For Ford, he would like to go slow with the dating process, preferring outings that didn't require much physical contact. This could consist of book dates, picnics, movie marathons, dinner, etc.

For the most part, this worked great, Ford is very calculating even while dating, but you hope he'll be more comfortable eventually. It would be months until Ford kisses your cheek, and if it weren't for the scratchiness of his stubble, you wouldn't have noticed. It happened after watching a movie, and you returned the kiss. Ford will shyly cup his large hand into yours.

Ford at first will overthink everything in the beginning of the relationship, wondering if he's competent enough for you or if he's asking for too much. You reassure him that's not the case but sometimes he'll worry.

He's a superstitious man at heart and would prefer for your relationship to be quiet but not out of embarrassment. Half a year will pass before he would be okay enough to cuddle with you in a bed (clothes on). The most you two would do is give small kisses and tight hugs that led into the best naps.

He's an old man, he's bringing flowers when he picks you up for date night because it's classy and he enjoys the smile on your face when you smell them. Sometimes, he will offer you a ride home as well.

Please don't play Mario Kart with him...

He likes when you give him back massages (sweater on) and will gladly return the gesture.

Arguing with him is a nightmare, though. Man is stubborn as an ox and will not listen until you both properly calmed. And even then, he has his pride to uphold—something that has to run in the Pines family. Try to bribe him with hot chocolate if there needs to be a sit down.

Are sexual encounters on the table? Yes but he'd appreciate a discussion about it and if he even feels comfy enough to do so at the moment. He's trying his best to be more open minded and honest, you're his safe place. He's the type of guy to schedule sexual intimacy and no I'm not joking, he's a stickler for time. You don't know whether to be flabbergasted or amused. Probably both.

All in all, expect a simple and healthy relationship with Ford. He's learning just like you are.

Thank you for the ask! Please like and reblog, I'd greatly appreciate it.

[ur-fav-inactive-writer]

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐀 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐀 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬

Ford Pines x GN!Reader | Request by @angelic-simp

WC: 1318

You were Ford's best friend, you had known him and his twin brother, Stan, since you were kids. You, too, had lived in Glass Shard Beach and met the twins at the beach one day. You instantly became enamoured with Ford, becoming his closest friend. As you got older, the platonic love for Stanford had slowly turned into a romantic one. As strong as that love was, you refused to believe it. You'd never liked a boy before, surely what you felt for Ford was completely platonic, right?

~*~*~*~*~

Years and years after, you and Ford still had an unbreakable bond. You both graduated from high school and then proceeded to attend the same college. Through all the challenges of college, your bond had never withered or suffered. The two of you did everything with one another, you always studied with one another and you also shared the passion of anomalies with Ford. So, once the you had both graduated from Backupsmore and Ford decided to have a cabin built in Gravity Falls for his research, he thought it only made sense to invite you to go live with him to research things. You packed all your things up and started the car ride to Gravity Falls.

You hadn't gotten a drivers license yet, you were far too busy so when you started the road trip, you piled into Ford's car. He had been able to drive for years and he didn't mind getting to spend extra time with his favourite person. You talked for hours and hours. Eventually, you got sleepy after being awake for so long. Ford had somehow not felt an ounce of exhaustion. You yawned and yawned, dozing off every so often before Ford recommended that you lay down in the back seats and take a nap. He pulled over briefly, receiving pillows and blankets from the back of his car and helping you get comfy in the back. You laid down, snuggling into the blanket. Ford began to drive again and you slowly drifted into sleep.

Ford had been driving for about another 15 minutes until he decided to quickly check up on you in the mirror. His eyes flickered up the rear-view mirror and his heart softened. You were laying there, fast asleep, gently snoring and snuggling into your blankets. He smiled at the sight, making him fall even more in love with you, not that he knew that's what that warm feeling he felt at that point was. He looked at you for another few seconds before turning his attention back to the road.

~*~*~*~*~

You soon arrived in Gravity Falls and got to your cabin in the woods. It was gorgeous. You began unpacking and setting up the place you and Ford would call home. It felt... romantic to be living with Ford. But not in like a bad way, it actually felt quite... nice? It felt nice to share a home with him, to wake up to him, to go to bed to him, to share a life with him. It wasn't romantic though, at all, right? Yeah, definitely not.

~*~*~*~*~

The two of you had been living in your cabin for just over a year. It was great fun living with Ford. You were his lab assistant so the two of you got up to many entertaining experiments. You assisted him in writing his first journal, and then decided to make your own series of journals too. You helped him with his experiments and joined him on expeditions. Of course, you were scientists, that was your job. When you have a job, you have to work. But recently, you began to get tired. And on the other hand, Ford didn't seem tired at all, overworked but refusing to seem tired at all. It was concerning, he worked almost twice as much as you did but gave off no hints of exhaustion from how much he worked. One day, you were in the lab, it was quiet but both of you were at work.

You sat over at your desk, joining wires and planning out your inventions. You always invented machines for Ford, to help him with his anomaly research. As you sketched, you felt yourself feeling exhausted. You yawned but tried to persevere and keep going but you really couldn't. You glanced over to Ford and with a small stretch you asked;

"Hey, Ford, do you wanna come take a break with me?"

"Oh, um... no thank you (Y/N). However, you're welcome to go take one yourself if you'd like!" He said with a small smile before turning back to his work. You frowned and began to talk again.

"Are you sure, you've been overworking yourself recently with like no breaks. You certain you don't wanna come join me?"

"(Y/N), I don't know what you're talking about, I'm fine. Besides, I'm a genius, I don't need a break." He said with a small shrug as he continued writing in his journal. You scoffed at him and tried convincing him again.

"First of all, even geniuses need break. Second of all, pleaseeee will you join me? I'll give you jelly beans..." He paused at your last sentence, considering your offer and sighed as he stood up from his desk, turning to face you. You let out a small 'Yay!' as you hugged him hastily before turning to go back upstairs. He stared at you as you did so, beginning to blush and letting a small smile slip across his face as he trailed after you

~*~*~*~*~

You made your way up to your bedroom, after a pit stop in the kitchen to gather a bowl of jelly beans and snacks. Ford loved your bedroom, it smelt of you and it was so comfy and cosy. Your room was so welcoming and warm. So when you plopped down into your double bed. You got comfy under your covers before patting the bed next to you, indicating for Ford to come lay next to you. He blushed slightly, reluctantly climbing in. You turned on the TV in your room, playing some show on the Gravity Falls local channel. Not paying attention, you drifted off into sleep. Ford became infatuated with the storyline of the show before rotating his head to see you, peacefully sleeping. He got deja vu to the moment in the car a year ago, he felt at ease. Slowly, he dozed off, feeling comforted by your presence.

~*~*~*~*~

A few hours later, Ford slowly stirred. He saw the time flashing on your alarm clock, gasping when he saw that he overslept by many hours. He went to rush out of bed before he realised there was something holding onto him. He looked back, confused but instantly turned bright pink. There lying next to him, was you, arms wrapped around his waist, cuddling up to him. He couldn't just get up when you were laying there, so peaceful and adorable. He layed back down, softly putting his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. He murmured a small 'I love you', not noticing the fact you were semi-awake and heard him utter these words. You smiled gently as Ford drifted back into sleep.

Oh well, work can wait.

(A/N): Sorry if I've accidentally used non gn pronouns, I've written this at like 2:30am 😭 anyway hope you enjoy!!! <3

[vikkirosko]

📚 Ford Pines x Reader headcanons Features 🧫

Since childhood, Ford listened to the name-calling of his peers when they noticed his fingers, but he had a brother who always stood up for him. But after the quarrel, he did not see his brother. After entering the university, he worked a lot and it was during his studies that he met you. You studied together and some people paid attention to you because you hid your right eye behind your hair. At first, Ford was sure that it was related to fashion, until he saw your eye, which you were hiding. Your eye was red, which was unusual even for heterochromia

You both looked different from the others, and because of this, you were able to get along. That's why Ford invited you to go with him to Gravity Falls. Living in a small shack away from people was unusual. You worked together, getting closer to each other every day. You periodically went to the city to buy groceries or supplies that you needed, while Ford stayed at the shack. Living there has helped you both get to know the anomalies better. Among other things, you learned more about the fact that your red eye was unusual. You could see things that you couldn't explain for a long time. It was thanks to your eye that you quickly noticed that something was wrong with Ford

You saw a yellow aura around him, and his eyes sometimes looked like demonic. You were scared, it was like he was going crazy. You didn't know what it could lead to, so you decided not to take any chances. You left, leaving him a note that the changes in him and his connection with something otherworldly scared you and you hoped that he would be all right. You haven't seen Ford in months, but your conscience has been driving you crazy. You felt guilty for not staying by your side, so when you heard about the tours at shack, you decided to find out what had changed at Ford. But when you saw the one who called himself Stanford, you realized that it wasn't him. You didn't know where Ford had gone, but you intended to find him, and for that you had to stay in town

Many years have passed since Ford returned to Gravity Falls. He met his brother again and met his great-nephews. But when the shack was closed, there was a knock on the door. Ford ignored it, sure it was one of the locals, until he heard his name called. When he turned around, he saw you. He recognized you even though your hair was almost completely gray and there were wrinkles on your face. You've both aged, but you've met again. He looked into your different eyes again and wanted to say something, but you came up to him faster than he could say anything. You hugged him tightly and then told him that you missed him

Stanford didn't have many people he could completely trust, but you were one of those people he let get very close to him. You have been separated for many decades, but now you intend to make up for the lost years. You were doing research again, spending time together. It was as if you had become part of their family and some of them didn't mind the prospect at all

[kodared]

✰ Stanford & Borrower/Anomaly Reader ✰

fears not enough they have to tear him apart.

Chapter 1/?

Wordcount: 2,057

➤ Summary Based on the borrowers of many universes! I hope you enjoy it, and if you don't know about borrowers, let me be your guide into a world I've loved since I was young. ✰Written because I saw the severe lack of borrower content in Gravity Falls fanfic, i hope you enjoy <3 ✰ - ★Updates irregularly! I write when I want ★

★ - Also on AO3! - ★

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58879087/chapters/150070549

The cottage you moved into was poorly constructed and had many openings to various rooms because of the peeling wallpaper. It was partially why you chose to reside there after many weeks of venturing the forest once your parents kicked you out. 

You lived with your parents in a tree until they decided it was time for you to make your way in this world. Oh, how you could imagine the looks on their faces if you told them the mess you got yourself into this time. 

Your family chose the safety of trees and burrows rather than living in the walls of creatures that could kill you without so much as a flick of a wrist. 

You wouldn't call yourself one for adventure, quite the opposite. Humans terrified you to your very core. You’ve been a first-hand witness to what they are capable of. When the cottage was in the process of being built you watched many trees torn and splintered by their impossibly large machines. 

You rather despised humans. What you didn't despise however was routine and having access to food much easier than foraging. 

Life in the cottage was relatively peaceful, it was about as peaceful as you could get for being only a few inches tall. You swore your species was doomed to fail if it wasnt for humans influence. 

The scientist who lived in the cottage was paranoid, that much was obvious. Even when you first moved in after being kicked out he stayed up much too late and consumed too much coffee to be considered sane. You brushed it off because, after a few days of scoping out the walls of the cottage, you realized he had a very precise schedule that made borrowing easy. 

He would wake up early, and go to bed late. Usually uttering to himself before going down into his basement to do who knew what. It gave you a lot of time to yourself, and a human with a predictable schedule was hard to come by. Most had kids or animals, both very dangerous to someone like yourself. Fortunately, this human only seemed to have one friend who came around periodically, but they stayed downstairs. 

You had noticed that night you were running low on thread and crackers, and the human was in his basement. Of course, night turned into day much quicker than you predicted. 

The shock and horror of hearing the vending machine door open while you were in the middle of climbing up into his shelf literally by a thread still shuddered through your body even now. 

…So what if you screamed and ran off despite him shouting for you? So what if you have to move homes? It didn't even matter much to you that when you let go of the thread you landed on your foot and wrist wrong. 

The faint memory of his hand reaching for you did rattle you to your core, despite how much you insisted you could escape him even if he did grab you. 

The way his eyes bared into your very soul, the way even his shadow in the early dawn lighting engulfed your entire body. Your shaking hands as you pried the loose wood plank off the wall just as you could feel his body heat emitting from his hand radiating on your back. 

… 

 …You push the memories away lest you give yourself another panic attack. You tried to not let it bother you much, though you would miss the plentiful amounts of jellybeans and other snacks he kept on the shelves. 

No. What bothered you the MOST was the fact every little detail, every little move you made before you ran off into the wall, was now being documented. 

You looked down from the crack in the wall with a grimace. There was a foul taste in your mouth as you saw the human below taking vivid and rigorous notes while sitting at the kitchen table. His pen scratched the page so hard you believed it would rip. 

The red journal he carried with him was the bane of your existence. If any information about you or your species was going to become mainstream, it would doom your life as you knew it. Not to mention shatter any dreams you had of a normal life. 

You weren't in any position to do anything about it yet. The effects of the adrenaline pumping through your veins were slowly ebbing away. Leaving a dull ache in your head and a nasty sprain on your wrist and ankle. 

With a sigh, you pushed off the wall and made the long trek back to your room. Deciding that before leaving, you had to get rid of the page in his journal. He had to leave it unguarded at some point. 

Your room in the walls wasnt much, but you spent a lot of time working on it. You hollowed out a space inbetween a few support beams and insulation and put a few pieces of cloth on the walls. 

The pin cushion you called a bed practically screamed your name as you pushed your makeshift cloth ‘door’ open. You broke off a piece of a cracker you swiped a few days prior and shoveled it into your mouth before collapsing on the bed. 

Getting that journal was your only hope. Ignoring the chalky residue left in your mouth by the dry cracker sleep soon found you. 

… 

That man did not leave his journal for one moment. 

It's been two days since your last encounter with the human. You tried so hard to stay patient in the walls and bide your time until you could get ahold of the cursed page, but your rations were running short. 

So you threw on your satchel and stabbed a needle in your pants just in case he was out. You used to not carry it, but you weren't taking any chances. 

Pressing your hands to your eyes you tried to gather courage as you walked in the dark pathways of the walls. You tried not to think about what would happen if you were caught by the scientist. 

You’ve seen him take creatures like yourself down in his basement, and they never come back up. 

Despite this, you still for whatever reason chose to stay. You wished you never stayed. More than anything you wished you had just found a nice, abandoned burrow like your cousin had, and stayed in the woods. 

In your frustration you kicked a piece of rock, it hit a nearby pipe with a satisfying twang. 

There were more predators in the woods but atleast they would just kill you. There was no telling what the human would do if he caught you. 

Taking a deep breath you consoled yourself, if you played your cards right and stayed out of sight this would turn out like it usually did. 

You would take a few crackers and leave, that's all you had to do. 

As you pressed your hands against the wall and shakily pushed, you felt the loose wood disconnect with a satisfying crack while you poked your head out.

You squinted as the bright light from the kitchen flooded into the wall and onto your face.  

Everything seemed completely normal, which should have relaxed you, but it merely put you more on edge. 

This human wasnt normal. There was no reason everything on the countertop was tidied away. He usually left dishes in the sink, and from where you stood you saw none. 

You where about to slink back into the wall and go out a different time before you heard his voice. 

“...It was bipedal!- have you ever-” 

You were quick to pull yourself back into the wall, your hand slipping on the wood and giving yourself a splinter. You sucked in a breath and held your yelp as you heard footsteps coming closer. 

“I know, you haven't stopped talking about it for three hours..” 

The other human's voice sounded southern, you recognized it as the main resident's friend, or ‘associate’ he sometimes said. 

You could hear them picking up various glasses and cups, if you had to guess the humans were probably making more coffee. Your hypothesis was only confirmed as you heard the cursed machine whirr to a start. 

You finally let out the breath you were holding as you felt the splinter that now lodged itself in your palm. Wincing as you continued to listen. 

“I know, I just wish I was able to capture it! I could put a more accurate sketch, what if its the only one of its kind?” 

Predictable as always. 

“Ford, I'm sure you already went scarin’ the thing half to death. I wouldn't be shocked if it left,” 

Ford. The scientist was named Ford. As you picked at the splinter you internally berated the name, yours wasnt much better but atleast your parents loved you enough to not name you Ford. 

…Maybe you where being a bit mean. 

“I doubt it, more than likely I can catch it again early morning. It seemed shocked I was there, it more than likely has a schedule it keeps to.” 

Or maybe you weren't mean enough. Seriously who did this guy think he was? You had half a mind to march out of the wall and stab his stupid hand.

You didn't bother listening to the rest of their conversation, too preoccupied with picking at the splinter. Trying to pull it out with little to no light proved itself to be difficult. 

You could head back to your room, but the string lights in there had limited battery, and you tried to save it for only special occasions. 

To your relief, the pair left a few minutes later. Only when you heard the vending machine door clunk shut did you press against the wood plank. 

Using the small sliver of light provided you pulled the splinter out with your nails, flicking it away before turning and looking at the counter. 

…He left a dish. 

A dish in front of where he last saw you. A dish full of various snacks, ranging from two jellybeans to crackers and cheese. 

You weren't some domesticated house pet. You scowled at the dish as if it had personally scalded you before walking past it. 

You walked quietly despite there being no reason to. Wishing you had your fish hook and thread to get up on the higher shelf. 

You could manage without it though. You only made it a few months prior so you were skilled enough to find some scraps on the counter usually. 

To your dismay, though he seemed to have done a thorough cleaning, and without your hook you had no way to reach the shelves above to gather your food. 

You pressed on and walked over to the sink, careful to balance on the edge. You looked at the faucet and walked over to the handle. Gently and carefully push it just a smidge before taking out a small thimble you used for water. 

After drinking your fill and putting the thimble away, you turned the water off. 

…Not fully though, he could deal with a leaky faucet for a few hours. 

You where going to go back empty-handed until your stomach growled looking at the crackers he left out. 

Surely taking one wouldn't hurt, if you left a message. 

You picked up one and stuffed it into your bag, contemplating taking a jellybean but deciding against it. Right before you went into the wall you kicked the dish off of the counter. Shattering on the floor with a satisfying clatter. 

Snickering to yourself you slinked off into the walls. You’d check back on the human that night to see if he left his journal on his desk this time. 

… 

A few hours later Ford had finally gotten to a stopping point with his research. Thoughts of the little creature in his walls beckoned at his mind as he rode the elevator up. 

He sent Fiddleford home with a goodnight before practically sprinting into the kitchen, seeing the mess left by the mischievous thing. 

One thing on the counter caught his eye in particular. 

As he picked it up he examined it thoroughly. 

A small splinter of wood, ever so slightly tinged at the edge with red. 

“...Fascinating..” 

---

Thank you for reading!! Ill more than likely be updating this when i can, but be assured Chapter 2 is already being written with plans for three others!

Hope you Enjoyed!! My Askbox is always open if you want to hear me ramble more about borrowers! V●ᴥ●V

[delicatesmilesys]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ A Rainy Cozy Night (Stanford x Female Reader)

Gravity Falls

pov : it’s a rainy night at the mystery shack

tags : comfort, established relationship, fem reader, cuddling, spooning, flirting, second person, sfw

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You were staying at the mystery shack with your partner, Ford. You was sitting on the couch, and you could hear the rain falling. It was pouring outside, water droplets hitting the window.

You let out a collective sigh, wishing to spend time with him.

Stanford was a working man, who never stopped working It's as if his brain never stops, even when he's asleep. Stanford has been working on his latest finding on this anomaly ever since coming back from the portal. Gravity Falls has changed. Especially with Gravity Falls being surrounded by an weirdness bubble that kept him on his toes.

Stanford's thoughts began to wander toward Y/N. It’s been seven weeks since they have been dating and Stanford couldn’t be happier. But he doesn't know why Y/N is one of the only people who gets his heart racing.

Stanford is so focused on his research right now that he can't think about anything else. But Y/N remained in his mind. He was startled out of his reverie as he heard footsteps approaching him slowly.

You stood immediately behind him, with the rain coming down outside, Stanford smiled at you with tenderness and sweetness. “I hadn't noticed you till now. Yes, I am working.”

You hooked your arms around Stanford's neck, “When are you going to stop working? It’s raining and everyone is sleeping. I am so lonely.” You began to try to persuade him to stop working and pay attention to you.

Since you and he were in the basement, there was already a bed there. You were responsible for the bed's implementation since you didn’t enjoy Stanford sleeping on the couch, Stanford sighed, gazing at his work and then at you.

You were his weak spot as he rose from his chair, your arms letting go around his neck and shoulders.

“I am doing this for you, okay?” Stanford spoke in a clear and firm tone, not angry or upset at being interrupted. He was doing this for you and wanted to ensure you understood.

You took a moment to respond then again this was Stanford, “Okay, only because I want you to relax.” You were dragging him to bed, the rain being so heavy at the moment. Stanford was taller than you on the bed since you were shorter.

As you lay on the bed, you wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled against his chest.

Stanford was protective of you at the time, and whenever you two went anamoly hunting, he would always hold your hand and be the one to put himself in danger in order for you not to get hurt.

You were gorgeous. You were almost delicate in his eyes, yet it didn't stop him from loving you so much.

He leaned in to kiss you on the forehead, “Why must you be the one to make me all warm and fuzzy.” You spoke while looking up at him and into his eyes.

“I don't know, I should be saying the same to you.” Stanford said as if saying something clearly.

You reddened, unsure of what to do. What this man might possibly do to you. His arms wrap tightly around you.

“Your presence in itself is comforting…I feel calm around you. Like you know how to not put me on edge.” You spoke with flushed cheeks, revealing your affections for him in front of him.

“I am surprised I make you feel that way, it makes me happy knowing that I can do that to you.” Stanford smiled timidly feeling himself burning up. Why are you so sweet? It is not fair. You opted to shift where you were. You finally were able to go face to face with him. Your lovely (e/c) eyes connect Stanford's. “You have such a handsome man, my silver fox~” You began to plant a kiss on his lips. Stanford's eyes widened, taking him by surprise. Stanford slowly closed his eyes as he started to return the kiss.

That was the closest Stanford has ever held you. With their eyes closed, they had an intense and sensual kiss.

Stanford pulled away from their intense kiss, and both of their cheeks flushed. They were both breathless.

They gradually open their eyes to comprehend what has transpired. “Do you realize that you're too much?” Stanford looked away slightly before looking back again. ” Stanford looked away slightly before looking back again.

“I’d rather to be too much then too little.” Y/N remarked as the two of them were in spooning positions. Stanford was your big spoon and he was your little spoon. The rain was still going on to bring further the ambience.

Soon enough, they would fall asleep.

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Author’s Note : This is my first gravity falls x reader fic and first time writing Stanford Pines x Reader. I was inspired by @darlingdaisyfarm they are such a amazing writer. I wouldn’t feel inspired to write this

[pepsi-cola-soda]

Hi 👋🏽 I saw you were open for requests and was wondering if we could have some headcanons for teen! ford having a crush on gn! reader who he met on the beach one day when they were maybe around Wendy’s age? and maybe they shake Ford’s hand and don’t freak out like other people did. no rush, of course. please, and thank you.

Faded Photographs and Sandy Six Fingered Handshakes

This was fun to write :] I hope you enjoy! Also side note, I didn’t realise you said HCs and I wrote a one shot instead-

Teen!Ford x Teen!NB!Reader

Ford was no stranger to the beach. It was a familiar and safe place for him to be after school, a place where he would study in the dunes or chat with his twin brother on the swings.

However, today was a little different.

He was not alone on the beach, spotting a figure on the rocks beside the tide pools. As he approached, you came into focus and he could see what you were doing. You were crouched next to the tide pools, quickly writing something down in the journal you held before sticking your hand back into the cold water of the pools. Once you found something worth studying, you pulled your hand out of the waters, smiling as you looked at whatever creature or shell you had retrieved.

Curiosity got the better of him and Ford walked closer towards you, determined to learn about you. Carefully navigating the rocky terrain of the tide pools, Ford called out a soft ‘hello!’ to alert you to his presence. You whipped your head around to face him, surprised that someone had joined you in the tide pools. Gently returning the sea slug to the tide pool, you stood up and dried your hands off on your pants, “hello there!” You walked to Ford, making your way towards him with ease. The bespectacled teen watched in awe as you jumped around, clearly familiar and comfortable with the rocky ground before you ended up a few feet away from him.

“Hi! I’m (y/n)!” You wore a bright smile as you held out a hand for a handshake, which Ford was hesitant to accept. “Stanford, Stanford Pines,” he said as he took your hand in his, giving you a firm handshake with a nervous smile. When you didn’t let go of his hand, he began to panic on the inside. Had you noticed? Were you going to freak out and call him a weirdo? A freak? He was about to pull his hand away but you spoke up and he froze, preparing himself for ridicule.

But it never came.

“You have six fingers!” You exclaimed as you held his hand in both your hands, pure joy and amazement lacing your voice, “that’s so neat! You’re like… like a mythical creature! Or an anomaly! Not in a weird way- but in a cool way!“ You ramblings continued for a moment as you looked at his hand before looking up at him with a bright smile. Ford was blushing bright red, eyes wide in shock and surprise listening to you talk about him in such a positive manner. His heart began to beat faster, pattering away in his chest and he could swear you could hear it. Little did he know, the seed of a crush had planted itself in his heart.

“What were you doing out here in the tide pools?” Ford asked and you smiled brightly before opening your journal. You held up your most recent page, littered with notes and sketches of shells and small sea creatures, “taking notes and drawing the cool little things I find!” Closing the book again, you grabbed his hand before pulling him along to a tide pool, “here, let me show you!”

You let go of his hand once you reached a tide pool and you crouched, sticking your hand into the cold water as Ford crouched next to you. After fishing around for a moment, you found a little creature, gently grabbing it and pulling it out of the water. “Ta-da! A hermit crab!” You said, clearly proud of yourself as you grabbed his hand again and carefully set the little animal in his palm. He watched as the creature slowly emerged from its shell, wandering around on his hands as he smiled brightly. Ford looked up at you from the hermit crab you had placed in his hands, “are you here often? I’d like to talk and hang out with you more.” You looked up from the water before nodding, “I’m here almost everyday! We can hang out here and at school too,” you replied as you dried off your hands and stood up. Ford placed the crab back into the tide pool before standing as well, drying his hands on the front of his shirt.

“Here, let’s take a picture!” You exclaimed as you rummaged through your bag, whipping out a film camera with a proud grin. “S-sure! But wouldn’t we need someone else to take it?” Ford asked as you cranked the lever to move the film. “Nope! I’m just gonna guess and hope it turns out right,” you replied with a bright smile, chuckling at his surprised reaction. You slung an arm over Ford’s shoulders, pulling him close to you as you extended your arm with the camera facing towards the two of you, “say Belgian waffles!” You exclaimed with a laugh, your finger hovering over the shutter button. “Belgian waffles!” The two of you said in unison as you pressed the button.

With a bright flash, the picture was taken, documenting the first of many meetings between the two of you.

-

Ford smiled to himself as he gazed at the black and white photo, hearing you call out for him to join you and the younger Pines twins. That day on the beach was a fond memory, one he held close to his heart. He set the picture frame down before readjusting it slightly, allowing the light to glint off the glass and reflect off his wedding band before he turned to leave the room in search for you and the kids.

[typing-catastrophe]

You see me? - part one (stanford pines x hallucination!reader)

masterlist 1k words | warnings: none --------------------------------------------------

'This is new', he thought, looking straight ahead at something that he was sure he shouldn't be able to look at.

"Can you see me?", a beat of silence, "You can, can't you?" there was caution in your voice, almost as if you wouldn't let yourself believe it. "Please say something"

Ford kept quiet.

"Say something."

Nothing.

"SAY SOMETHING!"

Ford sighed, took off his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. The long hours and relentless work were starting to get to him. He put his glasses back on and turned back to his desk.

"No, no! Please!" you begged, panic rising in your voice.

'Perhaps not entirely new, but certainly concerning.' He couldn't recall if Bill ever did actively made him hallucinate when he was lucid, or if everything he experienced was already in the mindscape, but either way - what was happening in this very moment felt a bit too realistic for his liking.

What was happening, broken down to its very basics, was that a stranger stood in his study. And they simply had no way to be there. Apart from the fact that it was the middle of the night and the shack was closed, the way to his study was hidden and he did not hear the elevator move or open its doors. No one except for him should and could be here. No one was here when he came down here hours ago. There was no place they could've hidden. There was no possible scenario in which the situation at hand could've taken place. So the only option left, in his blurry mind, was that the last 30 to 40 years finally caught up to him and he was going insane.

At that moment he didn't even consider a paranormal explanation. Maybe because he believed the shack was sufficiently secured against all kinds of anomalies and supernatural occurrences. Or maybe because in the back of his mind, he always did ask himself when the time would finally come when his mind simply... snapped.

Years and years of stress, mind fuckery, all kinds of injuries and multiverse jumps must've left their mark on his psyche in some way after all.

But what did surprise him was the... well, normality of it. It was just a person. It would've made more sense to see Bill or any of the other things he saw in his frequent nightmares. Maybe the more severe ones would come later?

He propped open the new journal he had started recently and poured his thoughts onto the paper.

-

You could only watch in confusion and hurt when the man turned away and got back to whatever the hell it was he was doing all the time.

What had just happened? When he looked up from his work, his eyes landed on you. He didn't look through you like every other time and everyone else. This time was different! But why did he act like it wasn't? What was he doing? Why was he ignoring you?

Your newfound hope left you as abrupt as it had appeared. You felt so impossibly lonely again. Empty, distant, cold. Ever so cold with no source for the freezing feeling that seeped deep into your bones.

He could see you. You knew it.

This wasn't like the times when you were screaming and crying and pleading for him - for anyone - to hear you.

He. could. see. you.

And you knew it.

-

For a good minute, Ford stared straight ahead at the blank page. He desperately tried to form a coherent thought he could write down, but when he tried to get a hold of them, it felt like his metaphorical hands moved through fog, swirling eerie patterns into it, but never grasping anything solid.

The urge to let his head sink onto the table got stronger by the second, yet he resisted. He squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep inhale and straightened his back. He got this. He didn't need to sleep, not yet.

He stood up and stretched his arms over his head, stifling a yawn while doing so.

"Why are you ignoring me?" You had sat down on the floor a respectful distance away from him, legs pulled close to your chest, arms hugged tightly around them. Now you looked up at him with genuine hurt in your eyes.

You didn't know this man, and he didn't know you. The only circumstance that justified the sharp pang in your chest was the fact that he was the only one around actually being able to perceive you, yet for a reason unbeknownst to you, acted like he wasn't.

'Still there, hm?' he thought. He had hoped shifting his focus onto something else would help, but apparently, it did not. The figure was still present, still talking to him. He would like to take a proper look at it, but he was afraid that engaging with it would make the whole thing worse. You were not doing anything at the moment, and he'd rather keep it that way.

He yawned again, cursing himself for indulging in the weakness of his own body. It felt like it was betraying him, lulling him in and tempting him to lay down. But he knew what would inevitably follow. The pain, the torture, the guilt. He could not let that happen. Bill would not claim any more of his time and thought than absolutely necessary. He would not willingly leap into the open arms of whatever terror was already waiting for him.

"You should go to sleep. It's late. And you look tired." Ford almost scoffed at that.

All he needed was some good old, reliable coffee and he was as good as new. So he went upstairs, grabbed a new mug to set down next to all the other mugs on his desk and workbench, filled it to the brim with the dark, hot liquid and made his way underground again.

He was relieved to see that his hallucination apparently showed no interest in following him upstairs, but he was just as disappointed to see that it was still sitting in the same spot when he returned. He sat the mug down and with a defeated sigh lowered himself onto his chair.

It was going to be a long night.

-------------------------------------------------- thank you for reading <3 reblogs are appreciated masterlist a/n: holy shit i did it! i found the time, energy and motivation yaayy @cynamon-ancymon thought this might interest you ^^ if not just let me know and i remove the tag

[puppetfives]

Ah, requests! Don't mind if I do!

Can I have something with Stanford Pines x ADHD!reader? (specifically inattentive type, if you're familiar with topic, if not it's ok~)

I'm thinking about, like, an outing into the forest for exploring or experiments, but if you have any idea that you had laying around - I'd love to hear that too~

Yes of course! So sorry for the delay but I wasn't quite sure what to right so enjoy some drabble!

Stanford Pines x ADHD! Reader

Ford: He/Him/His

Reader: you/yours because of 2nd person

Totally didn't put in any Jack Stauber references no sir-ree

I'm sorry hyuckin' sorry this took forever but here's something! Life's been a real pain in the booty dude!

By the way I didn't check grammar so plz lemme know if anything is wrong thanks!

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

You and Ford were on a trip to hunt down the infamous "Plaid-typus" one of his many favorites specimens. Having ADHD is especially hard on these missions since you forget things or get distracted by other things.

"You ready to go, love bug?"

He'd ask, his satchel strap across his chest and a smile on his face. You'd nod, feeling very excited for the expedition.

"Yeah! I'm so excited to go and find the eye bats!"

You'd say with excitement, feeling all giddy at the thought. Ford would then raise a brow, looking at you with a strange look of visible confusion.

"Dearest dove, we're not going to find eye bats, we're going to find the plaid-typus, remember?"

You'd blush a bright pink, feeling embarrassed by the mistake.

"Oh yeah... My mistake."

Which was said with only an awkward chuckle, looking away from Ford and at the ground. He'd only smile in return and kiss your forehead, reassuring you lovingly.

"You're too cute when you blush."

Ford says with a grin, taking your hand as you two finally started your journey.

"Now then, do you have the 'special' supplies?"

He asks, checking to see if you brought them

"I wonder if trees are like strippers during winter time... Oh wait the supplies? What supplies?"

You'd question, getting distracted by your random questions about the most pointless stuff. Such as if jellyfish had tongues or if lava tasted like tomato sauce. Ford knew you were quite odd with these "questions" of yours but he still loved you anyways. Eventually, after letting the question settle in, you snapped back to reality.

"Oh yeah the 'supplies' I know what you mean now!"

You'd then pull out the butterscotch pudding Ford has requested to help capture the plaid-typus with, handing it to him with a smile. Ford smirks and cups your face after taking the butterscotch pudding, kissing your lips lovingly and tenderly. He pulls away, kissing your cheek.

"Thank you schöun."

He says, opening the pudding and setting it out on a plate before ringing a bell, pulling you both into a mossy green bush to hide in.

plat plat plat plat plat plat plat...plat plat plat plat plat

"The plaid-typus. It's so cute!"

You'd whisper yell, causing Ford to shush you before the plaid-typus took the bait.

SWOOP!

And the plaid-typus was caught in the fishing net, Ford standing in a pose of triumph. You'd look up at him, getting lost in his build. His board shoulders and chest, his fluffy silver hair, his cracked glasses, oh was he a sight for hurting eyes. A true silver fox as most would say, or even a hunkle.

"Dearest... You're staring."

He says with a grin, blushing a soft pink from your staring.

"Oh! Right. So uh, what are we gonna do with the plaid-typus again?"

You say, trying to change the subject.

"Oh, nothing in particular. I just wanted one of these as a little companion if you may."

You'd loved his sense of speech. He really could make anyone swoon couldn't he? You two finally made it back to the shack, going downstairs to his lab as Ford puts the plaid-typus in a large play pen he set up days ago. You watched as he put in some water and more butterscotch pudding for the little anomaly, even throwing in some peanut butter as a snack for later.

"Such a cute little fella isn't it?"

He'd ask rthorically, petting its head as he finally pulled away, taking off his coat and satchel before taking your hands in his.

"But not as cute as you my precious buttercup."

He'd say, kissing your hands as you rolled back your eyes, blushing from the sweet sensations.

"Can we go cuddle now please? I wanna be held."

You'd ask, completely forgetting the whole mission you just had together. Ford only chuckles and kisses you again with love, cupping your cheek with his hand as his thumb gently rubbed your cheek bone. After a minute or so, he pulls away, chuckling once again.

"Of course, I love you too much. I hope you never forget that."

You'd smile once more, your face a bright red as he held you in his lap.

"I would never forget the important stuff."

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Welp there it is! Sorry if it wasn't the best but I tried! Don't question why the plaid-typus eats butterscotch pudding btw I have no idea where the hyuck that even came from.