#the idea that ford never had energy drinks until after the portal incident is just cursed! evil!!

[trianglesimpfordpines]

> read about the history of energy drinks

> the earliest energy drinks were invented in the 60s

> but it seems unlikely any energy drinks were available in the US until 1984 (after ford disappeared into another dimension)

> remember that world history in gravity falls is explicitly not identical to real life world history

> new headcanon unlocked: ford invented energy drinks in the gravity falls universe

[danvssomethingorother]

Up For adoption (the Holiday Edition)

Last year, I participated in the Fiddlestan Holiday Bonaza. I actually planned on doing all the days but only got three done. These are the left over scraps of half finished stuff.

If you wish to adopt them you may but I’m mainly posting them as look how far I’ve come kinda thing. And for you guys to get some enjoyment out of stuff I will never finish but at one point had big plans for them. 

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December 9th: Joy, Gold, Revelations 

-Not All Gold Shimmers-

Summary: Despite it being Fiddleford's favorite time of year, Stan notices a slow decline in his boyfriend's mental well being.

December 3, 1980

In any usual year, the little research shack in the heart of the Forrest would already be well into its seasonal make over. Last year, Stan hadn't been able to finish his third helping of Thanksgiving dinner before his boyfriend was dragging him into the attic to collect enough Christmas garbage to make Santa ask them to tone the decorations down a bit. Then adding the Hanukkah decor to the mix, that Stan had no idea where the love of his managed to drudge up in a sleepy country town where he and his brother were the only people of Jewish decent, it looked less and less like a place of research and more like one of those quaint Holiday stores that only existed to scam people like Fiddleford Mcgucket out of their hard earned money.

That's how it had been the last four years, any way. Stan would never forget the look on Fiddleford's face on their very first winter together. He had drug in three boxes worth of Christmas junk from his little beat up pick up and began happily describing where he wanted to hang everything only for Stan to make him drop his last box load of 'Holiday Cheer' as he called it, when he announced he and his brother were Jewish. He instantly began spluttering apologies about being insensitive and began looking desperately at an amused Ford silently asking him why he never told him. After smugly watching him gasp and gag on apologies like a fish asphyxiating on dry land and 'assuring' them he would take it all back to the store, Stan slung his arm around Fiddleford's shoulder and told him it didn't matter to him what they celebrated, he wasn't paying the electric bill, so go as nuts as you want with all the Christmas lights your heart desired. Ford of course disapproved about 'going nuts' but didn't seem to say much about it later when he saw how joyous his friend was with the finished decorations. Since then, they had been celebrating an unholy fusion of both holidays, complete with tacky sweaters and butchered Hebrew and just far too many sweets altogether.

It was nice over all though and Fiddleford's joyous nature at that time of year was contagious. It never mattered that their home was a glowing monstrosity or the homemade sweaters were itchy or that Fiddleford never made Latkes right and they always turned out way too salty, it was Stan's favorite time of year. Even if you would never hear him say that out loud.

That's why it came as such a surprise on the first day of Hanukkah that not a single decoration was to be found. Everything was still nestled away in the attic. Fiddleford hadn't been shopping all through November to get everything ready for his favorite time of year and not a single gift was poorly hid in their closet. If wasn't for the thick sheets of snow outside the window already freezing the interior of the cabin, you could easily mistake it for summer without the major landmarks indicating it was indeed December.

Stan sat in his favorite chair not paying attention to the tv already beginning to static over, contemplating hauling it all down himself just to get his boyfriend out the slunk he had found himself in over the past few months. He continued to sit there though watching the sappy soap opera he was too lazy to get up and find the remote to change come in and out of focus knowing decorating wouldn't be the same without Fidds by his side. He glanced over to the dark entrance way and wondered if they were still down in the lab. Fiddleford and Stanford had disappeared down to it at day break and it was nearing sun down and he hadn't seen them yet. Soon he would have to go down and make them call it day but for now he planned to just not move away from his warm spot until it was absolutely necessary.   

"---We still have so much to get done, Fidds," he glanced away from the now fully static TV screen  as he heard his brother's voice echoing from the next room.

"Tomorrow, Stanford Pines," he smiled at the hiss knowing you didn't argue with Fiddleford Mcgucket when he used that tone and your full name.    

(I don’t entirely remember where this scene was going)

---  

Something slamming into Stan's face rudely woke him up from his dream world.

(A scene I really like, talking about how this isn't the first nightmare and Fiddleford talking about how he just wants to get the portal done with.)

---

( I was going to put a series of scenes here where Fidds was becoming more and more stressed out with Ciphford harassing him and making him lose more interest in the holidays as they take place and Stan not knowing what it is going on. Things becoming more tense between the three.)

---

The day had at last come, the portal was finished but Fiddleford didn't seem very excited about his own announcement.

(When Fidds leaves after the portal incident. He tells Stan he doesn't know his brother as well as he thinks he does.)

--

It had been three days since Fiddleford had left and the shack had taken on an eery silence since then.  

(This where the revelation happens that Ford was worshiping a damn demon and his brother may have been tormenting his poor boyfriend.)

---

It didn't take that long for Stan to find his rusted over trruck parked under the neon glow of the little Holiday Inn a mile off from the bus station.

(This is where Stan wrestles the memory gun from Fiddleford and they have a cute conversation about the first time Ford called up Stan.)

"Welcome to 1981, Stan, ya made it," Fiddleford whispered between the sob stuck in his throat, leaning back into Stan's embrace.

Stan wasn't one for sappy emotional gestures but for Fiddleford  he always made the exception. He pulled him tighter against him and kissed him on the top of the head.

"Yeah, I guess we did make it. Here's to surviving another one..."

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December 17th: Sweaters, Kiss, Flurries  

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Ford wrinkled his nose as he took a sip of the juice Mabel had left in the kitchen. Upon further inspection he found  Christmas oranaments floating at the top of the punch bowel.

"I wouldn't drink that if I was you," he turned his head around to find Stan leaning smugly against the door way, arms crossed in a cassual manner,"Mabel loaded it down with so much sugar it may just stop an old man's heart."

"What is it? Its like if sugar procreated with my worst nightmares..." he groused dumping what was left in his cup down the sink.

"Its Mabel's 'famous' Christmas flurries," the sarcasm that oozed from the word 'famous' sent cold shivers down Ford's spine, he wondered if whatever came from that bowl was worse then anything Bill could ever conceive.

"Its made from snow blended with enough sugar to rot my dentures, hot chocolate, two pots of coffee, a case of red energy drinks she thought looked 'festive' and a bucket of green glitter. Then she put ornaments on top to put for a more Holiday feel...."

Ford stared with disgust down into the bowel wondering how that little girl could possibly drink that and if maybe he should start a new page in the journal dedicated to her.  

"Fidds drake a whole glass of it under Mabel's request this morning while you were down in the lab and he's so glittery he's took apart and put the TV back together like I don't know...a few hundred times..."

Under his casual facade Ford noticed genuine worry for his once again best friend in the subtle features on his face. There was a point in his life Ford thought his brother would look past his old research partner and not give him the time or day for his admitably strange mannerisms (that had become much much stranger with age). Then Weirdmagedon happened and the two had been close since then. Ford didn't quite understand when it happened or how it happened (and maybe didn't particularly want to for that matter) but his brother had decided to spend his golden years with Fiddleford and as long as they were happy Ford couldn't object. It was a strange life he lived, with or without the supernatural, nothing quite turned out the way he would have expected them to.  

"GRUNKLE STAN! HURRY BACK! WE'RE DECORATING THE TREE!"  

Stan tilted his head towards the yelling and jestered for Ford to follow him.

---  

As the twins entered the parlor, Ford took instant notice of Fiddleford's slow, lethargic way he hammered a nail into place on the chimney for the stockings. His eyes had a lack of foccus as he looked up to him and Stanly and smiled. He was coming down from Mabel's concoction it appeared...

"Well look who came out of labernation!" Mabel cried loudly setting her eyes sternly on Ford, hands on her hips in a manner he would take more serisously if he wasn't looking directly at the mistletoe she had tied to her forehead or wearing the ugliest Christmas sweater he had seen since his final Christmas with Fiddleford.

"You missed Hanukah! Your brains could have been useful to beating Grunkle Stan's cheating every time we played Dreidel!" She huffed, Ford had to take a cautios step backwards to keep her long fake Christmas themed nails from jabbing him in the stomache.

"Fat chance," Stan stated bluntly from the other side of the room where he had already settled next to Fidds, taking the hammer from him before he could accidently break his finger with it, "With gambling all you need is luck and I have all of it."

"You had a loaded dreidel," Dipper cut in entering the room with another box of Christmas decortations that he deposited next to the tree that was a bit too large for the room, its pointy top compacted tightly against the roof in an angle.

"Who does that? I mean serisouly, the kids are supposed to win. That's why we bet with candy..."

"Well, me and the pig done ate the candy," Fidds said casting a cheeky smile towards Stan who crossed his arm and he tried his best to glower at his boyfriend without breaking the mock anger but it broke the instant Fidds kissed him on the cheek (a shrill squee errupted from Mabel making Dipper cover his ears), "So I reckon I was the real winner any who."

Ford almost cast a thankful smile his friend's way for distracting his niece away from the reason she had been cross with him but the second the kiss was broke her attention was completly back on him.

"You're not missing out on anything Christmas related though, mister!" she stated her fake nail tapping against his chest in an uncomfortable manor as she stood on her toes trying to be eye level with Ford.

He glanced over to his brother and friend for help but they only seemed to giggle at his troubles as Mabel began to tick all the 'Merry Activities' he would be participating in. With or without his consent.

---

Decorating the tree was more exhausting then it had any right being. The lights kept going out. Leave it to Stanly to find the cheapest lights he could find in the five finger discount aisle. Ford didn't understand why the kids snickered at him when he asked Stanly to return them for better lights. It was sensible since the darn things didn't glow right. He even offered to scrounge up some new ones in the lab, with Fiddleford's help he could make lights that never lost their glow. Maybe even keep the room warm without running up the electric bill but Mabel denied him access to the lab. It was his house, he shouldn't be bossed around by a thirteen year old.

Yet as he watched her stand on the step ladder shaking her mistletoe head piece at Fiddleford and Stanly before slamming their faces together to kiss when they didn't do so fast enough. Then she proceeded to do the same to her brother and Waddles, who had been trying to eat the garland rope Dipper was trying to string together. He knew he didn't want to damper their Holiday any more then he already had. He may not say it out loud enough but the four people in this room where the ones that mattered most in his heart and he never wanted to hurt them again.

As the mid after noon rolled in, they decided to take a break from their decorating. It looked like a seasonal store had already thrown up on the parlor. If the tree wasn't already crunched so tightly against the ceiling, it may have become a fall hazard with all the ornaments packed into every inch of it. Some of the ornaments were made of old tools painted red, green and gold. When he inquired Fidds about it, he flushed a bright red and said he always felt artistic around this time of year. As much as Fiddleford had changed over the years, being a bit too overjoyed about the Holidays was not one of them it seemed.  

The only piece of furniture in the room was an old tattered up love seat that Fidds had scrounged up somewhere last weekend when he was Christmas shopping with Tate. The only way to describe it was it was a ghost of the seventies that was haunting this house. It was an ugly puce green with a tacky design Ford swore he saw on Fidds's favorite shirt back in college. Maybe that was what attracted his friend to it. It seemed he was always dragging anything home with him if it vaguely reminded him of some forgotten memory. Ford never said anything about it, he wanted him to get better and maybe one day fully recover from his ordeal and if that meant transporting the shack figuratively back to seventies, he was sure no one minded.

Stan and Fidds sat curled into each other on the sofa, Fidds already half asleep forcing himself to stay awake to listen to everything Mabel was saying on the floor in front of them creating a new sweater that seemed a bit big for her. Dipper sat next to her excitedly going through Ford's new research journal, lost in his own world. Ford smiled, Dipper may never become his apprentice and he had his own path set out in life with his sister always at his side but for now Ford could take pride in the fact that his nephew was still his number one fan.

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