mooooonnnzz

[mooooonnnzz]

Hi! Genuine question and I mean this with full respect :) are you still continuing old requests?? Or are they scrapped? Thank you! :))

hiii!! i still have some old requests collecting dust in my drive but i hadn’t really gotten to them until recently the past few days i’ve been trying to finish them because i seriously wanna clear out my inbox! so they’re not scrapped

[mooooonnnzz]

heyyy just wanted to check up on you, you haven’t posted for a few weeks. everything alright?? <33

HIII yesss everything is alright 💗💗 i’ve just been really drained lately bc of work n stuff so trying to write has been a challenge unfortunately. i am still working on fics but its slow!! i dont wanna post a fic thats half assed yk i wanna post sum thats actually legible 😭 but thank you for checking up on me <3

i just need a break to come up so i can start writing again 💔

[mooooonnnzz]

hiii, saw request is still open and just finished reading forwards beckon rebound and bawled my eyes out.

so i was wondering if you could maybe make something with ford having a kid (reader) who's like really young when he got pushed into the portal and stanley raising reader and reader reminds stanley so much of ford when they were younger and is a nerd like their old man it hurts stanley so much to see the resemblance.

Dream About Me

Platonic!Stanley Pines x Child!Reader

ᰔ 1,8k words!

ᰔ MULLET STANLEYY!!!

ᰔ slight angst? or heavy angst? it's just overall sad really depends on the person

ᰔ gender neutral reader!

ᰔ request are open!

𐒘𝛠 When Stan took you in, he never thought how painful it would be to see all Ford’s quirks and traits shine in you. Seeing his smile on your face made it really hard for him to continue on with his day without breaking down into violent sobs, especially freshly after Stan had accidentally pushed Ford into the portal. Another wound to the heart was the additional finger on each of your hands. He hadn’t noticed until one day during dinner when you were sitting in front of him, coloring within the lines of the coloring book he had gotten you days prior. Your hand was splayed across the page, hand pressing down on the other side of the page to keep it from closing it on you. His eyes brushed past your hand, disregarding the six finger, just like he always did with Ford when his eyes shot back to your fingers, eyes widening upon seeing the extra appendage. He would’ve choked on his food if he didn’t swallow it moments before. 

𐒘𝛠 “Are you looking at my extra finger?” Your fingers curled inwards on instinct, nuzzling them into your palm. “Dad told me to never be ashamed of my extra finger.” You tell him, which sounded more of you trying to reassure yourself than anything. “Did he really?” A wistful smile pulls at his lips, his eyes distantly looking down at his plate. “Yeah. He said that it’s a gift. We both shared our weirdness together.” Your other hand that was holding the crayon was now wrapped in your other hand, the crayon discarded on top of the unfinished page. Stan’s teeth snagged on his bottom lip. This was harder than he thought. “And you-you should treat it like one, k-kid. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” He had tried coming off as stern, but the way he fumbled over his words and how his voice cracked in all the wrong places made it lose its whole empowering purpose. But you managed to get the message. A smile all too similar for Stan’s liking shown on your face. “Do you have an extra finger, Uncle Stan?” You brought your six fingered hand in front of his face, wiggling them wildly. “Unfortunately, I do not.” He pressed his palm against yours, his large hand completely dwarfing yours. “Ah! Five fingers!” You retract your hand away from Stan’s, wide eyes never leaving his five fingers. “I have actually never seen five fingers before!” You comment, flicking his fingers. “Have ya never seen another person that isn’t your dad?” Stan initially meant it as a lighthearted joke, but the way you sheepishly looked down to the ground told him very clearly that Ford had never taken you out of this house. ”Maybe once or twice when I was a baby?” You shrug. “He’s been so busy with everything else he left me to myself.” Sounds just like Ford. He hopes you don’t inhabit that from him. 

𐒘𝛠 Your insatiable curiosity was full force. Everything always needs to have a reason or explanation, and if not, you would forge a plausible reasoning that ties your question into a nice little answer. Seeing this in a different perspective really rattled through Stan. He had found this side of Ford when they were younger plenty annoying, always wondering why his brother couldn’t leave things be, but seeing you do it was a messy mix of bittersweet and gut churning. Hearing you ask all the same questions Ford had asked them when they were younger sent him in for a loop. How could you be so eerily alike to him? Even the passionate twinkle in his eye had passed down onto you. “Uncle Stan!” You padded over to him, book in hand with messy scrambles of your writing. “Look what I discovered!” Stan forced a smile onto his face, stomach twisting into vicious knots. “What did ya find, kiddo?” You eagerly nod your head as you spoke with the same vigor and passion Ford had all those years ago and shoved your book into his lap. Looking down at your book had some semblance of Ford’s cursive writing, but it had seemed that it was a mix of his and Ford’s. “This is really nice, kiddo.” He strained out, rapidly blinking away the tears that were threatening to fall out. “So you believe me? You believe my theories?” You rambled out, oblivious to Stan’s fighting battle with his emotions. “Yes, kiddo.” He pushes himself off the couch, running a hand through his hair. “I need a m-moment. Gotta check on this mullet.” He leaves with that and you’re left wondering what you did wrong. 

𐒘𝛠 When you were about twelve years old, Stan had caught you squinting at him from afar, the same way Ford would look at him without his glasses—he didn’t mean to draw everything back to Ford, you just were an exact carbon copy of him, unfortunately for him. So he conducted an at home experiment where he stood far away from you, holding up a sign with words that looked like a blended mush to you. That was enough to prove to Stan and you that you needed glasses. Getting a pair of frames sent Stan in for a loop. As if you didn’t act enough like Ford, now you had glasses that made Stan’s stomach drop whenever he looked at you. “How do I look?” You smile at Stan, the comically large glasses sliding down your nose. “Maybe we should get smaller ones?” Stan suggested, plucking the frames off your face and setting them back on the display stand. His eyes abruptly landed on ones that looked exactly like Ford’s glasses when he was about your age. He cleared his throat, shaking him out of that weird trance and ambling on to more of the display cabinets with glasses. “What about these!” He turns around and when his eyes lock on you, his mouth runs dry. “A-Are ya sure you want those?” You scamper over to the mirror, a small gasp leaving you. “I look like Dad.” You whisper. Confliction swimming in your eyes. “You don’t have to keep em—“ You wave him off. “It’s okay, Uncle Stan. I-I think it keeps his memory alive, right?” Stan swallows, nodding slowly. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

𐒘𝛠 Staring at yourself in the mirror, you flickered your eyes back and forth to a polaroid photo of Ford to yourself in the mirror. There was some resemblance. Especially with you wearing your glasses. It made sense why Stan couldn’t really keep a straight face whenever he talked or even looked at you. You internally fought with yourself, jumping back and forth to liking the fact that you looked like Ford or to hating the fact that you do. You had his eye shape, his nose, his smile, the extra finger, even the stupid need to have glasses. You have his mannerisms, the way you speak is a lot like how he talked when he was your age–told to you by Stan, and so much more that you couldn’t dwell into before you’d burst out into tears. It was both a blessing and a curse. A worn out sigh leaves you, brain spinning and pounding harshly against your skull. This wasn’t going to lead you anywhere. Picking at your features and wishing that you didn’t have them wasn’t going to be beneficial for anyone. You pocket the photo and swing the door open to see Stan right in front of you currently in the process of opening the door. “Oh!” You step back and Stan jolts up. “I didn’t know you were in there, kiddo. I’m sorry.” A sheepish hand rubs his neck. “It’s okay. I was leaving anyway.” You sadly smiled at him, stepping out of the bathroom. Stan raises an eyebrow, catching the melancholy look in your eyes. “You doin’ alright?” You stop in your tracks, hand ghosting the pocket where the photo of Ford was in. “I-,.” The words die in your throat when you notice the concerned look in his eyes. You didn’t want to put any more weight onto his shoulders.  “I’m alright. Thanks Uncle Stan.” Stan looks at you hesitantly before nodding to himself, bidding you a quick goodbye. “You can tell me anything, just lettin’ ya know.” He lastly says, closing the door, leaving you to your thoughts in the silent hallway. You weren’t sure if you were ever going to get the guts to truly tell Stan how you feel. 

𐒘𝛠 As the years go by, Stan had found himself breaking out of his habits of relating you to Ford and saw you as your own person. But there would be times where he would slip up back into his old ways and meddle in his mind. You had adopted a few of Ford’s mannerisms, from the way he spoke to how he fidgeted, you had it all. He’d catch glimpses of Ford whenever he would see your pinched concentrated face. Sometimes you’d walk into the lab to show him all the theories you thought of to fix the portal and Stan would just look at you, guilt and despair heavy on his expression. You would have to awkwardly bring him back and repeat everything you had just said to him. “I’m sorry that I keep reminding you of him.” You fidget with your spinny chair, softly swaying from side to side to ease your anxiety. “It’s not your fault. I promise.” He kneels down beside you, patting your shoulder reassuringly. A moment of silence passes before you turn your head over to look at him. “Sometimes I think you’re going to up and leave because I act like him sometimes.” Stan has had hard times coming to terms with you being so alike to his lost twin. Nights he’d spent crying on his bed, wondering if this is all worth the struggle. There’s times where he couldn’t even look at you without being choked up in his own cries. He wasn’t emotionally stable enough for this and he was doubting his capabilities of taking care of you. But alongside pain, you also brought him joy, you gave him a reason to wake up in the mornings, to smile, to laugh. Stan takes a shaky breath in. “Kid, I’m gonna be honest with ya. It’s been hard, extremely hard. I’m not gonna sit here and tell ya that it’s been all sunshine and rainbows, because it hasn’t. But what I can say is that I have been getting better, with the whole Ford thing. Sometimes it comes back like a slap on the face and I’m left scramblin’ but, at the end of the day, you have shined so brightly and shown me how incredible you are, just as yourself. And no matter how hard it gets, I’ma stay right by your side.” Wrapping him in a bone tight hug, you let out a relieved sob. “Thank you,” you cry out. Stan pats your back soothingly. “You’re also my kid now. Forever imprinted on me. I’m not goin’ anywhere.” 

Taglist: @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @lovexsage, @teddycricketdream, @theilluminatidragonqueen, @raventeen @cedarmoonzz, @katharine3000

dm or comment if you want to be added/removed!!

just wanted to share that i had the worst food poisoning ever these past few days

[mooooonnnzz]

HIIII I THINK REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN! in that case can I have something about celebrating your birthday with the pines and co :3 LOVE YOUR WRITING!!! It inspired me to start writing my own gf things, thank you!

Mable's Surprise Birthday Special

Platonic! Pines Family x Reader

★ BIRTHDAYYY!! FANFICC!!

★ its funny cuz u requested like a day after my bday and then a day before the twins bday like what a perfect timing!!

★ tw: fiddleauthor im kidding i love them sm i had to put fiddleford here

★ 4,5k words

★ gn!reader

★ a silly cute fic!!! i hc soos is a really good baker

★ req r still open!

“Welcome to Mable’s Birthday Special!” Mable noisily raved directly into the camera that she set up on a stand. “Now, I know what you’re thinking. Mable, it isn’t your birthday! And you’re correct on that. But it’s a special someone's birthday!” She plopped herself on her pink chair, pulling out a large colorful book from below and slamming it on the table. Clouds of glitter powdered the air, a fit of coughs spewing out of her mouth. “Agh, glitter attack!” She croaked out, swatting away the sparkling glitter with her hand. 

Now covered in rainbow glitter, she broadly smiled at the camera. “Now, what was I saying?” She pondered out loud, tapping her chin as she looked up. “Oh!” She jumped up, looking back down at the book that was labeled ‘[Name]’s Birthday Ideas’. 

“My siblings birthday is today!” She opened the book, flipping through an assortment of pages before stopping and striking her hand down on a certain page. “Believe or not, this is all the data I collected on [Name] so I can properly throw a birthday party extravaganza!” She leaned forward, passion flowing out of her. “And today, we are going to throw the best party ever.” 

The footage unexpectedly cuts to another shot where she, Dipper and Wendy were decorating the living room and kitchen. “Hello, my fellow Mabelins!” She feverishly waves at the camera. “We are in the living room!” Dipper peeks his head into frame, his eyebrows furrowing. “Mabelins?” He repeats slowly. “Yeah! Mabelines. That’s what I call my fans.” She motions to the camera. “Mable, no one is going to see this.” Dipper blankly said, rearranging the party streamers in his hand so they wouldn’t get tangled. “Dude, don’t say that. That’ll totally ruin her spark!” Wendy tittered, taping individual letters one by one on the wall. 

“But it’s true. Who’s actually going to sit down and watch Mabel’s videos?” Dipper remarked, taking a measured step up on the chair then onto the table. “[Name] is definitely gonna see this after the party.” Mable leaned in closer to the camera, whispering: “Brothers, am I right?” 

Grabbing the camera, she aimed it at Dipper who was jumping up from the table, trying to stick up the party streamers on the ceiling. Zooming in on him, she spoke in an Australian accent. “And now, we have an orangutan in his natural habitat.” 

Dipper grumbled, stomping his foot down on the wobbly table. “Mab–Ahp!” Dipper fell, taking the table along with him. Mable howled out in laughter, running towards him and capturing him twitching painfully on the floor. “Woah, dude. Are you okay?” Wendy got on one of her knees, helping up Dipper from the ground. Dipper quietly fussed under his breath, sending a deadly glare to Mable who wasn’t even paying attention, too wrapped up in her laughing frenzy. 

“Yeah. I’m fine. Thanks, Wendy.” He dusts himself, picking up the discarded party streamers from the floor. “I’ll hang these up for you, dude. Don’t worry.” She takes the streamers from Dipper’s hand, much against his protests. “I can do them, Wendy. It’s okay!” He watched enviously as Wendy grabbed a chair and stood on it, taping the streamers randomly around the ceiling. “There!” She hops off the chair, putting her hands on her hips and admiring her work. “Now Dipper won’t have to be sent to the hospital on [Name]’s birthday.” 

Dipper sighed out, grabbing a bowl of confetti and sprinkling it all over the floor to make a confetti runway. “Thanks so much, Wendy.” A glum look fell on his face and Mable couldn’t help herself and zoom in on his face. “Poor Dip. Too short for his own good.” Bringing her hand in front of the camera, she waves at it. “I’ll see you in the next part!” 

The footage cuts off to Ford in his red turtle sweater and black jeans, an apron that says ‘Kiss the Chef’ adorning his waist. She aims the camera up at his face. “Say, Grunkle Ford. What are we making today?” 

Uneasily smiling at the camera, he hurriedly stirred the batter. Some splattered out of the bowl and landed on the counter. “We are making a cake!” He tried to sound chipper but he couldn’t hide the distressed look on his face. Oblivious to his stress, she backs up, showing the messy countertop. Batter dripped from the counter and onto the floor where a little goopy pile had been ever so slowly festering. And upon further inspection, Ford had clumps of batter and flour stuck to hair. The white powder was dusted in streaks on his face and clothes. 

“And who’s we?” She spun around for dramatic effect, making her own drumming effects. “Pumpkin, what are you doin’?” Stan walks in, walking past the spinning Mabel and peering his eyes over to the cooking cake in the oven. She stops nowhere near Stan and has to turn back around to show Stan in the frame. “This is my Grunkle Stan! Twin brother of my Grunkle Ford–,” She zooms in on their faces. “--If you couldn’t tell!” 

“Ford, the cake isn’t risin’.” He grabs a mitten and opens the oven. A blast of black smoke wafted into his face. “What?” Ford drops the bowl onto the messy counter, walking over to Stan who was coughing like a maniac while waving the mitten around to disperse the cloud of smoke. “How is it not rising? We added baking powder into the cake, didn’t we?” He snatches the mitten from Stan and slips it on. Grabbing the steaming pan, he placed it on the counter. “Is it supposed to be that color?” Stan grimaces at the muddied charcoal black cake. “How is the consistency still the same an hour later!” Ford scooped the slimy goo and watched it grossly plop back down on the pan. “Who’s taste testing the cake?” Mable curiously asked. Ford and Stan looked at each other before sticking their hand out, yelling, “Not it!” 

The clip cuts to Ford and Stan violently spewing out the cake into the sink or trash can. “What are we doing wrong!” Stan forced out through gags. “I don’t know!” Ford heaves out into the sink. “What’s goin’ on?” Fiddleford saunters into the chaotic kitchen with Soos following behind him. “Hey, dudes!” He waves at Ford and Stan who are still coughing into the sink and trash can. “Hey, Grunkle Fiddleford! Hey, Soos!” Mable turned the camera over to the newcomers. 

Fiddleford stepped into the kitchen, careful with where he put his feet down and went over to Ford’s side. He put his hand on Ford’s back and moved his hand up and down in a comforting manner. “Darlin’, what in the hell happened here?” 

“Me and Stan tried making cake.” The mention of cake has Ford’s stomach churning once again. “Oh, yikes.” He breathes out, teeth bared. “Hun, why don’t ya sit down with Stan? Me and Soos can handle this, right Soos?” Soos’s head perks up at hearing his name. “Yeah! We can make a pizza cake out of real pizza with like, ten layers!” Stan cringes. “That doesn’t sound right.” 

Ford sweetly smiles at Fiddleford. “Thank you, my love.” Fiddleford matches his smile, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips. “Ewww!!” Mable shields the camera with the palm of her hand. “Cover yer eyes, Mable!” Fiddleford laughs. “You don’t have to ask me twice!” 

Another clip plays and it's Mable marveling at a beautifully made and decorated tall 8 layered cake. “Now this is how you make a cake!” She dips her finger towards the cake to snag a bit of frosting when she was scooped up by Stan. “No, you don’t!” He moves her away from the cake, placing her back down on the floor. “I feel like out of all the people here, I thought you’d be so strict on not letting anyone touch or eat cake.” 

“I just grow weak in the knees when I see a cake as beautiful as that one.” Mable stared at it starry eyed. “Alright, that’s enough of that.” His hand flop around the camera as he attempts to find the turn off button. “Okay, so how can I turn this o–” 

The next clip is Soos delightfully munching on cake with Mable beside him. “We just couldn’t resist!” Mable says with her mouth full of cake. “I just wanted some cake, dude!” 

Footsteps approach the kitchen and both Mable and Soos look at each other with fear stricken on their faces. Jumping off the chair, she grabs her plate of cake and shoves it into her sweater. Soos shoves the whole piece into his mouth, smearing the frosting and cake crumbs all over his mouth. 

“Grunkle Ford, have you seen my–” Dipper stops dead in his tracks, eyes wide at the marvelous cake. “Is this the cake I heard Grunkle Fiddleford talk about?” He whispers, his eyes looking over to Mable and Soos who were rigid statues. 

“This thing?” Mable jabs a thumb in its general direction. “I have no idea what this is!” She nervously laughs out, pieces of crumbled cake sludge out of her sweater and plops down on the floor. “Righhhtt…” Dipper takes a step back. “I’ll leave you two alone.” He sends a cautionary glance at Soos and Mable before walking out. “Phew!” Soos wipes his forehead with his forearm. “That was close, wasn’t it?” 

“Super close.” She grabs on a piece of cake that was in her sweater and munches on it. She offers one out to Soos who happily takes it and shovels it into his mouth. 

The clip choppily jumps to the entrance door to the gift shop. “Stan went out to grab [Name] cause we kinda left them alone in the mall. Sorry not sorry [Name]! But he’s getting them over here, so any minute they’re going to come in here!” Mable whispers to the camera. She’s hiding behind a can of monster eyes, the camera very obviously on top of the canisters. “Dipper is hiding in a box full of plastic peanuts. Soos is behind the counter with Wendy, they have party poppers in their hands. Fiddleford and Ford are in the living room. They’re act two.” She brought up two fingers and wiggled them. 

Distance voices could be heard coming from outside the shack. “They’re here, they’re here!” She loudly whispers. 

“Who’s idea was it to leave me in the mall?”

She snickered quietly and pointed at herself, the culprit of the idea. “We didn’t leave you at the mall? We were there with you.” Stan terribly lied and you saw right through it. “Grunkle Stan, I don’t know why you lie so much.” 

The knob of the door jostles a bit, altering everyone that they were here before it opened. “Why is it so dark–” 

“Surprise!” Popping noises came from Soos and Wendy and clumped up colorful strings fell on top of your head. Dipper tripped out of the box full of peanuts, running over to give you a self-Mable made birthday sash. “Oh!” You grab the sash, slinging it around you with a chuckle. “What is all of this?” 

“Happy birthday!” Mable popped out from behind the cans, camera in hand. “Say hello to the camera [Name]!” You gave a shy wave. “Was this the reason why I was left behind at the mall?” You remove the colorful strings off your hair and throw it at Stan who sputters in surprise. “Yeah! And there’s one last surprise.” 

“Happy Birthday!” Ford and Fiddleford jump out of the living room doorway into the gift shop, blowing a party horn into your face. 

“OH MY–” 

The frame freezes on you midway screaming for a second before it switches to a whole new piece of footage where Ford is covering your eyes, blindly leading you into the kitchen where your eaten cake resides. “Okay, ready?” Ford looks at you, a huge excited smile playing at his lips. “No, not really.” 

Ford ignores you and peels back his hands and bestows you the beautiful sight of your unnaturally tall wobbling cake. “That’s a really tall cake.” You watch it dangerously wobble to the side. “Is the cake supposed to be wobbling?” You ask, looking around to see everyone’s mortified faces and two stray guilt stricken expressions. “What? That’s ain’t supposed to be happenin’…”  

Fiddleford approaches the cake and oggles it, his eyes landing on a certain spot on the backside of the cake, a wave of fury flashes on his face before he calms himself down and very sweetly smiles at the little crowd gathered in the kitchen. 

The camera catches Mable’s nervous gulp. 

“Who was takin’ big chomps of the cake me and Soos made?” His voice betrayed his sweet smile with how snappy he sounded. 

“Wasn’t me. I was with Dipper decorating.” Wendy coolly said. “Y-Yeah! We were.” Dipper solidifies his alibi, eyes locking with Mable’s anxious ones. “You can’t point any fingers at me! I was real busy gettin’ [Name] back from the mall.” Stan lifted his hands up defensively. “Again, out of all the options, why mall?” You grumbled under your breath. 

“I was with you the whole time, Fidds.” Fiddleford smiled at Ford, his voice sickeningly sweet when he spoke to Ford. “I know, hun.” Then he changes back to finding the culprits who ate his cake. “He’s really serious about that cake we ate.” Soos spoke into Mabel’s ear loudly. Fiddleford’s gaze locked down onto Mable and Soos.

“Mable, sweetheart. Could ya quit recordin’ just for a quick second.” 

The footage cuts to a somber Mabel sitting in a cold desolate corner with Soos on the other end. “I got put in the naughty corner! What is this joke!” Mable threw her hands up in the air dramatically, having them flop down to her sides with a loud melodramatic sigh. 

“It’s only just for a bit, pumpkin! After we set up the table you’ll be back here! Same goes for you, Soos!” Stan’s gruff spoke from the kitchen.

“Okay, thanks Mr. Pines!” 

“Ugh, we shouldn’t have ever eaten that cake.” Mable dragged a heavy hand down her face, pulling at it. Soos’s stomach roared in hunger. A laugh leaves Soos, his attention turning to Mable. “Do you still have some of that cake in your sweater? I’m kinda hungry.” 

“I think so? Let me check.” She digs her hand into her shirt and pulls out a clump of cake that had strands of hair and sweater fuzz on it. “Our last one.” Mable whispered dejectedly. 

“Mable, do you have your camera?” Ford peeks his head out of the kitchen to see Mable handing a mysterious ball to Soos, the camera in front of her. “You’re not supposed to have this, missy.”

“I know.” She frowns deeply when Ford snatches up her pink glitter camera. Ford fumbles with it a bit, the last shot before the scene switched was Soos taking a hearty bite of the ball of cake.

“Is this thing working?” Stan’s voice spoke from behind the camera. “Yeah, it’s working.” Wendy confirmed, tapping at the blaring red light to signal its recording. “Today is [Name]’s birthday! Right, sweetie?” He accidentally shoves the camera right at your face.

“Woah, okay!” You giggled, carefully pushing Stan away from you. “It is my birthday. I think you all are more excited about it than me.” 

Wendy walks over to you with a party hat in hand. “It's like you’re asking for us to forget it.” She hands you the hat. “If any of you ever forget my birthday, you will not hear the end of it!” You glared at everyone, pointing at them in a smooth motion with your party hat.

“They’re not kidding, guys.” Dipper’s eyes have a distant traumatized look to them. “I have seen it firsthand.” Stan added, flipping the camera to his traumatized face before flipping it back onto you. 

You snap the party hat on you with a smile. “I feel stupid being the only one with a party hat.” You walk over to the box full of party hats and grab an armful of party hats. “Tune in and find out if I’m able to put party hats on everyone!” You make a swooshing noise as your hand descends on the camera, palm covering the lens. 

“Stan, that’s when you stop record—“ 

The next set of footage had everyone, even the ones who were grounded for a short while, all huddled up in a group, party hats on. “I got them to all wear party hats!” You cheered, picking up Waddle’s who innocently trudged into the kitchen. “Even Waddles has one.” You cooed at the pig before putting him back down on the floor. “Okay, everyone disperse! Time to start singin’ happy birthday.” Fiddleford announced. 

Everyone surrounds the decorated table with the wobbling cake. Each shove and push to the table had Fiddleford sucking a nervous breath in.

“Okay, ready?” Ford held up three fingers and started counting down by three. 

The whole room erupted into singing the second all of Ford's fingers were down. “Happy birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy birthday to [Name]! Happy birthday to youuuu!”

“Make a wish! Make a wish!” Mable thrummed her hand against the table. The cake shook and trembled and everyone watched with bated breath. 

The cake stills and everyone lets out a sigh of relief. “Welp, wasn’t that close? Am I right?” Stan laughs, slapping his hand on the table. “Stanley!”

The cake plunges down, splattering everyone with its frosting and filling. Silence filled the room. 

Waddles squeaks happily at the delicious treat, feasting on the piece of cake on the floor. You lick around your lips, grabbing a taste of the cake. “Mmm! This is good. Fiddleford, Soos, you guys really did a good job on making the cake!” 

“Thanks [Name]!” Soos is wolfing down a piece of his own cake that had showered all over him. “Glad ya like it, sweetheart..” Fiddleford sighed out, plopping his head on Ford’s shoulder. 

“My camera!” Mable cried out, darting over to her camera that was weighing down from heavy frosting. She fortunately caught it in her hand, wiping off the icing with the sleeve of her sweater and accidently turning off the camera. 

The footage clips to the last video Mable took of the day. You were sitting down on a chair, a table full of gift bags and hand wrapped objects filled the table. “We are now opening presents!” Mable exclaimed, chucking a fist full of glitter in the air. “Ah, my eye!” Stan screeched out, sprinting into the kitchen to run water over his eye, bumping into the camera in the process. “Grunkle Stan! Be careful.” Mable held the camera stand, keeping it still. After a few minutes of hearing running water, Stan walks out with an irritated eye. “Open, open!” Mable chanted. 

You pluck a gift from the table, flipping it on its back to read the name sharpied on it. “Okay, the first gift is from…” You squinted, reading it out. “Grunkle Ford!” You show the mysterious gift to everyone. Curious questions left their mouths as you opened the book shape gift. Shedding the last piece of gift wrapper, you saw what you had gotten. “A book on quantum physics?” You let out a pensive ‘hm’. 

“You could never go wrong with math!” He proclaimed, sticking out a finger into the air. You awkwardly laugh. “Yeah, thanks Grunkle Ford.” You look under the table to see Waddle’s resting on his belly. “Here, Waddles. I got a new toy for you.” You whisper, waving the book in front of his face. He brings his snout to the book, sniffing it before letting out a snort. He grabs the book with his mouth and places it down on the floor, he pads around it for a minute and flops down on the book, snuggling into it. 

“Next gift!” You pop your head out from under the table and grab the next gift by its handles. You stuck your hand inside and latched onto something. Pulling it out, you came face to face with a Mystery Shack coupon. You didn’t even need to guess who this was from. “Really Grunkle Stan?” 

“Oh, shut it. There’s one more thing left in there!” 

You place the card on the table and dig your hand back into the bag. You grabbed onto a bottle and took your hand out, your eyes widening at the wine bottle. “Um?” You warily look at Stan whose jaw is dropped on the floor. “Who put that there?” Stan marched over to you and took the bottle of wine from your hand. A few quiet snickers came from Dipper and Mable. “That’s my bottle. You get your own.” 

“Uhm?” You look back down in the gift bag and flip it upside down. A wad of neatly folded cash plopped down on your lap. Your eyes brighten and you look over to Stan who’s smiling proudly to himself. “Is this real cash?” You grab the cash from your lap and inspect the dollar bills. “How in the world would I ever give ya fake money? Put some more faith in your Grunkle!” 

You gleefully put the cash back into the side and place it beside you. “Up next is…” You grab a hold of a large square wrapped in Christmas wrapping. The name Soos was elegantly written on the wrapping paper. “Soos!” 

“Yes!” Soos pumps his fist in the air. “You are going to love it, dude!”

Peeling off the wrapping paper revealed the gift to be your favorite music artist vinyl. “Soos! These are expensive, how did you get this?” 

Soos glanced over to Stan and looked back at you. “I have my ways!” He smiled. 

You put the vinyl in your bag with the cash and moved to the next present. Fiddleford’s gift was next and he had given you a beautiful heartfelt note accompanied with a photo of you, Fiddleford and Ford. You thought that was it when he told you to shake the envelope with a wink. A few couple hundred bucks fell out that had you gasping for air. 

“There’s no way you just copied me, Fidds.” Stan pointed an accusatory finger at him. “We just had the same idea, Stanley.”

“Grunkles, Grunkles! Please, no fighting.” Mable stood in between them, her hands flat against their stomachs. “My gift is next and [Name] needs their full attention on it!” 

Mable’s gift was a conflicting mess. You couldn’t decide if it was cute or oddly weird. She had given you a scrapbook, innocent at first, but opening the book showed that she had been harvesting everyone’s hair and gluing them in the book, crudely making a heart full of hair with your name spelt in cursive on the inside. The pages following had copious amounts of glitter, stickers and the strong scent of glue, but they were pretty normal enough, sharing memories of you, her and Dipper in some pages and then others had the family all together. Then there was a page that had you sit back and question your sister's mental wellbeing. She had a whole page dedicated to candid photos she had snapped of you while you weren’t looking. 

She had a photo of you sleeping, brushing your teeth, talking to Stan, playing ddnmd with Ford and Dipper, etc. And to make it a little more weirder, she had made everyone write little comments of what was their favorite thing in the picture. At least what everyone wrote was normal…

“Mable, thank you very—“ 

“—Go to the last page!”

You flip to the last page that was blank. A puzzled look formed on your face and you opened your mouth to ask Mable what was this when you were pelted with a wave of confetti, glitter and sprinkles. A drawing of everyone holding hands launched out of the book and harmoniously started singing happy birthday. Mable started singing along, busting down her own moves, satisfied with the gift she gave you. 

You were coughing up glitter and confetti for the next few minutes. Stan came up behind you to pluck the stray sprinkles that got caught in your hair. Waddles made the gracious effort to clean the floor by eating the sprinkles and a bit of the confetti.

Dipper’s gift was more sentimental. In a rainbow colored envelope, made by yours truly Mable, was a letter that Mable and him collaborated on and wrote together such a nice letter that you doubted if your younger siblings really had made this themselves. With teary eyes, you opened your arms wide and they didn’t waste a moment to run up to you and jump in your arms. 

“That was really sweet, thank you guys.” 

You held them in your arms for a minute or two before they let you go and went back to their spot. 

Wendy’s gift was a nice way to top everything off. Seems like she had roped everyone in it and made this whole poster board full of their favorite moments that you had shared with everyone. Branching from embarrassing ones that some were unfortunately captured by Mabel’s trusty camera to unforgettable beautiful memories.

“Who came up with this idea?” You ask with a laugh, looking at a pinned photo where you were mid horrified face when Stan was cannonballing into the pool. He was halfway in, water already sprouting out and ready to splash you and drown Dipper and Mabel. 

“It was a mix of Grunkle Ford and Mable. They’re surprisingly creative when put together.” Wendy said, jerking a thumb over to Mable high sixing Ford. “You guys really went all out for this, didn’t you?” You smile softly. A mix of playful scoffs and ‘of course!’ filled the room. “Who wouldn’t want to go all out for you?” Stan wrapped an arm around your neck, pulling you in a side hug. “I think we might need to drill that into yer head. Yer jus’ full of sugar, who wouldn’t want to give ya such an amazin’ birthday?” Fiddleford affectionately ruffled your hair. 

Ford hugged your other side, slipping a note in your hand. “Is this another sappy note that’s going to make me cry?” Ford chuckles, nodding. “Group hug without us? What is Mable going to say?” Wendy joked. “She’s probably going to kill them.” Dipper laughed. “Who’s killing wh–” She turns around and gasps loudly. “Group hug!” She grabs Soos’s hand and practically hurls herself into the hug. “Dipper, Wendy. Get in here!” They join in on the hug. 

“Happy Birthday [Name].” Dipper tried his best to at least give you a slight hug but everyone was so jumbled up together, all he could do was pat his head against your upper stomach. Everyone else joined in and told you happy birthday. Snuggling further into the hug, you smiled. “Thank you guys.” 

A warning beep rings in the air. “What is that?” Soos asks. Another final warning beep. “Oh my god! My camera!” Mable shuffles out of the hug and darts over to her camera. The frame freezes on Mable reaching out for her camera with everyone staring at the cameras with wide owl eyes. 

Pink glitter mixed in with blue plain text faded into the screen saying ‘Happy Birthday to the best sibling in the world!’ and the video ends. 

Taglist: @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @lovexsage, @teddycricketdream, @theilluminatidragonqueen, @raventeen @cedarmoonzz, @katharine3000

dm or comment if you want to be added/removed!!

[mooooonnnzz]

Hi I just wanna say I read the Dad! Stanley hcs you did and it was sooo goood I loved every bit of it.

I was wondering if you could do a bit of an angsty request where Stanley's child is in there late teens an gets possesed by Bill, like what do you think his reaction would be, since when dipper got possesed by bill, bill physicaly injured dippers body a lot and was just genuinely careless with his body. Also I have no idea when the reader would be possesed by bill mabey after Ford is back to make things extra angsty since ford knows of bill, idk do whatever you like with this request I just like angst with for no reason whatsoever.

Also I did try to find if you had any request rules but I couldn't find any so if you do have rules and this request is something you don't feel comfortable writing then please just ignore this request, I hope you have a brilliant day or night :D.

Another thing I just wanted to mention is I'm sorry for how long this request is.

Far From The Weight of The World

Dad!Stanley Pines x Teen!Reader

❀ 9,1k words its a loottt so if ur ready to hunker down and read a whole bunch this is for u!!

❀ guess who finished far from the weight of the world THIS GUYYY

❀ it wouldn't have ever seen the light of day if it wasn't for @raventeen they helped me sm!! like they helped every single step of the way and chose the direction of where this should go so big thanks to them <3

❀ i hope you all enjoy this! :3

❀ possible tw: description of skin melting off, throwing up blood, self inflicted harm, more blood, uhh broken bones? even more blood

❀ gn!reader

❀ i love dad stan pines smmm

❀ requests r still open hehe

“Sweetheart!” Stan’s footsteps could be heard thumping on the ground towards you. You marched forwards, your throat painfully knotted in a ball, suppressing your sobs and swallowing your words. Your head swirled with the word liar, spinning around hastily. Whispers of Mable and Dipper could be heard distantly behind you, their concerned eyes digging holes right through you. Too swept up by your wind of emotions you ignored their worried looks. 

“We can talk about this, kiddo. Just give me a second.” His fingers curl against your arm but you yank it away before he’s able to wrap them around you. “What do you want, Dad?” You promptly turned around, glassy eyes somberly staring into his wide ones. “Can you please give me a chance. Hear me out,” his voice cracked at the end, his hands twitching to desperately reach out to you and prevent you from taking another step further away from him. “I don’t know If I can trust you, Dad.” Uttering that sentence shattered something within you. Not once have you thought of yourself ever telling your very own dad that you don’t trust him. He had never given you a reason to distrust him. To you, all his past lies were seen as truth to you, undeniable facts that couldn’t be broken apart because his word carried high validity, to you at least. But now, you’re not even sure that he’s telling you the truth right now.

Ford’s heavy shoes sounded on the creaky wooden floors, announcing his presence wordlessly. “[Name], dear. Listen to your father.” He adds. He looked at you with an analytical stare, twisting your stomach inside out. You didn’t like how he looked at you like you were one of his captured anomalies, inspecting you and reading your tense body language, anticipating for the second where you’d act out of pure emotion so he’d supply you with meaningless words that held nothing but empty hope to burn out the flurry of emotions that ran rampant inside you.

“I don’t want to hear anything from you, Uncle Ford.” You spat out. He was the last person you wanted to hear anything from. From time to time, you’ve begged him to tell you what exactly is going around here yet he’d always brush you aside, dismissing whatever you’d ask and move on with the next thing that gripped his attention. “You never wanted to say anything to me until now.” 

Ford, not expecting your answer, stumbled with his words. He shakes his head, almost as if he’s expelling his shock with the shakes and regains his composure. “[Name],” he starts off with a stern tone. “You are acting purely on your emotions. I need you to compose yourself and talk to us when you’re relaxed enough to form a proper sentence that doesn’t have you snapping at us.” 

Your jaw gawks open. “So you’re telling me that I shouldn’t be feeling upset over this? 

Ford clicked his tongue, a twinge of frustration oozing out of him. Everything you’re saying is going off the script Ford had curated in his head. He’s rendered useless as he scrambles for words he can put together in a sentence that’ll feasibly flip your train of thought around and convince you that the way you’re acting is irrational. 

Ford waved his head side to side, unsure with his answer. Stan noticed the apprehension shrouded on Ford’s face and he silently signaled to him to not say what he’s about to say, already knowing that his poor choice of words was going to send this whole situation right on its back. Too stubborn for his own good, Ford stood his ground and opened his mouth much to Stan’s clear distaste of him speaking his mind. 

“Yes but no.” You grit your teeth together, eyes narrowly staring daggers at Ford who looked seemingly pleased with his response.

Stan gulps nervously, taking a cautious step forward. “Sweetie, don’t listen to him. He’s an idiot. He doesn’t know what–” 

“--You’re telling me that I’m overreacting? I have just found out that my dad has been lying to me since the moment I was born! And to make matters worse, you all are hiding things from me. None of you are bothering to tell me what the hell is going on here. Why are we all so secretive? We all promise to tell each other everything, no more secrets, no more lies! What happened to that? You all know something and I have a right to know as well!”

You heaved out a ragged breath, words spilling out of you in a madden rush. You held down your tongue for too long. Long nights of sneaky meandering had left you scrambling all the pieces they had discarded on secrets of Gravity Falls together, solving and answering all the questions you laid out for them but chose to ignore. All the lies Stan had fed you over the years concerning this supposed lazy town was unraveling right in front of you. What else had he been hiding from you? What other filthy lies had he pushed on you that you so mindlessly believed? 

Stan’s mouth flounders, stammers of jumbled sounds spilled out. His arms are rendered at his side, stunned with your outburst. “I thought I was protecting you.” He whispers, his fingers flexing anxiously. “Dad! This whole summer has been nothing but crazy. I didn’t know that we had half of those monsters in our woods because you lied to me and told me that it’s been my imagination. What if I had gotten close to one thinking that it was all in my head, and the beast mauls my head off. What then, Dad?” 

Stan deflates. Lost for words, he runs a hand down his gray hair. Thinking about finding your bloodied body sent full body chills down his spine and his stomach lurching. He never sat down and thought of the consequences of what he told you. As long as he said that it was all in your head, he thought you would’ve strayed away from them. 

“I’m going outside. Maybe some stupid gnome would actually tell me what’s going on here because nobody here wants to even tell me anything.” The door slammed shut, causing everything on the wall to rattle and almost tip over. “Oh,” Stan drooped his head onto his palms, tears swelling in his eyes. “I really screwed up here.” He whispered to himself, his voice crackly and small. 

Ford patted his back and Stan believed for a quick moment that Ford was going to say something so beautifully uplifting that he’d see the brighter sides of things, but he tells him, “When are you not?” and continues to pat his back.

Stan violently shrugged Ford’s hand off, his hand pushing Ford away from him. “Really, poindexter?” He scoffs, walking off into the living room where Mable and Dipper watched the whole scene unfold. “I thought it would offer some comfort!” He defeatedly argues back, a dejected sigh escaping him when his eyes meet Mable’s watery ones and Dipper’s disappointed glare. “Kids, I—“ Mable swiftly turns her head to the side, mumbling something under her breath as she ambles up to her room. 

“I’m going to find them.” Stan walks in, slipping on a jacket to shield him from the cold. “I’m coming too.” Ford reaches out to grab the doorknob when Stan’s hand stops him from doing so. “I don’t think they want to see you right now.” Stan gingerly shoved Ford out of the way, leaving him to his thoughts as he shut the door behind him. Cursing to himself, Ford rams his foot on the door angrily. 

Venturing far into the lush woods, you grumbled bitterly to yourself. You couldn’t even trust your own family to tell you something so simple. How utterly pathetic is that? 

You fought the urge to punch a nearby tree and continued on, getting yourself lost in the natural maze of the forest. You wanted to get as far away as possible just so you can find time for yourself to cool down. After a while, the cold air started to nip at your exposed arms. The hairs on your body stood up as a cold shiver rippled through you. Hugging yourself to provide some warmth you found yourself sitting on the grassy floor, back leaning against the bark of the tree. 

The soft chirps and squeaks of the animals brought a sense of calmness over you. These woods have been declared dangerous by Stan and for the longest time you never went out here without Stan hovering behind you or Soos mindlessly meandering through the woods with you. Your hands swayed across the green blades of grass, focusing on the itchy feeling that ran through your palms rather than the bitter cold. The faint whistles of the wind swirled around your ears and out around you. Has this forest always been so peaceful? Leaning your head against the trunk of the tree, you closed your eyes shut. Relishing in the comforting nature the woods provided you. 

“Sweetheart?” Your eyes shoot open. “Dad?” Your heart quickens, your head whipping around rapidly. “Sweetie?” Stan’s voice grew closer and closer. The sound of the grass crunching and bending under his steps resounded throughout the quiet woods, his calls becoming more frequent and louder. How did he find you so quickly? 

A shadowy figure, one you’ve grown to recognize, stepped out from the shade and presented himself. “[Name].” Stan sweetly calls out, kneeling down beside you. “Dad? What are you doing here?” 

Stan smiled, opening his mouth but all that came out was a raspy breath. “Wha–” Your voice hitches in your throat. 

Stan’s skin started melting off in a disgusting mess of bubbling flesh. The side of his face became a drooping mess and a crazed cackle left his lips. “You should’ve seen the look on your face, kid!” He points a boney finger at you, melted flesh sludge dripping from the bone. You scramble back, terrified screams ripping out of you. 

“W-What is going on?” You push yourself up from the floor with your hand, bile coating the back of your throat at the horrid sight of Stan’s bloodied flesh sploshing to the floor. “I’m just playing tricks on you!” With a snap of his finger, Stan poofed away in thin air. What took his spot was an ominous floating triangle with a top hat. “Well, well, well, look who it is, [Name]! I knew we'd cross paths sooner or later. I gotta admit, I'm thrilled!” His eye crinkled in a joyous smile. 

“How…” You blinked dumbly at the floating triangle. “I’m dreaming, right?”

“You sure are, kid!” 

A wave of recognition passes through you. This was the god Ford was talking about in one of his journals. Your knowledge of him was not much, but from the tidbits you have read, Ford had admired this god. He went as far as to calling the triangle his muse. What was his name? Wasn’t it– “Bill?” His name spills out of your mouth. “Ah! So you do know about me?” He tilts a little in your direction, his hands clasped together. “Hear anything good?” A glimmer of forlorn hope shimmers in his eye before it’s washed away with an inquisitive look. “I-I think so? My Uncle really liked you from what I had read in his journals.” You squint your eyes in thought.

“Oh, he really liked me.” Bill’s charmed voice had entailed that there was more to the story than what was told but he didn’t give you time to mull over that thought before jumping into the flow of another topic. “But that’s all in the past now, right?” He snaps his fingers, a comfortable looking chair appearing before your eyes. He floated down on the chair, kicking his legs up and crossing them. 

“I heard that a little someone has been lied to, isn’t that unfortunate?” The corner of his eye pulled to the side, almost as if it was a sadden frown. “How did you know?” The chair poofs away.  “I see everything, kid!” His hands fall to his sides and he slowly leans towards you, his eye pulled wide open. Flashes of images you couldn’t quite comprehend flickered by in a brisk montage. “Everything.” He draws out. “Anyways, I've got a deal for you. You give me, I give you. Sounds fair, doesn't it?” 

You raise a brow. “How can I trust you?” You rolled your fingers around the grass, delicately pulling on them. 

“Your dear Uncle Ford trusted me!” He shakes his hands enthusiastically. 

You pressed your lips into a thin line, still not convinced. “You literally pretended to be my dad and melted him right in front of me.” Bill put his fists to his sides, huffing out like a little child. “Can’t a triangle have a little fun here?” He rolled his eye dramatically. You eyed him, skepticism evident on your face. “I don’t know…” You plucked out a few blades of grass from the dirt. “I feel like if you wanted to gain my trust then you shouldn’t have done that.” You crumpled up the grass into a little green ball and tossed it at Bill. The ball passes through his body. 

“Maybe you’ll change your mind once I propose the deal..?” Bill’s eye stretched out and morphed into a mouth with his lips puckered. He whistles out a tune you can’t recognize and innocently kicks the air. “Go on,” You wave your hand out to him. “If you make a deal with me, everything that you’ve been wanting to know will be revealed to you. All you have to do is shake my hand.” He extended out his hand, blue flame engulfing it whole. You blink your eyes in surprise. Was it really that easy? “There’s no catch?” 

Bill’s fingers trembled in anticipation. “None whatsoever!” 

You could trust him, right? Ford had trusted him! Bill even confirmed it himself. And with what you read, Bill had been giving him infinite knowledge. Feeding him thoughts that no one else had thought of before. He did manage to build that portal and come to think of it, wasn’t it triangular shaped? Was that Bill shaped or were you reaching? You think for a minute more, weighing the pros and the cons. Biting your tongue, you looked at Bill. Bill made a deal with Ford and he’s still alive and well, so how bad could it really be?

You bite the bullet and grasp onto his hand, the flame trailing towards you and consuming your hand whole. A maniacal laugh rips through the air and the world stills. The color drains around you, unpleasantly welcoming you to a monochrome world. “That was just too easy!” Bill wipes a tear from his eye, his firm grip on your hand never wavering. “W-What do you mean?” You tried forcefully pulling your hand away from Bill’s iron grip but it felt like your whole hand was encased in stone. No matter how hard you tried prying yourself away from his hold, his hand still didn’t budge. His eye twists into a pleased smile, his fingers thumping against the edge of your palm gleefully. 

“Was I an idiot for trusting you?” Your words came out in a quiet whisper. You can feel the life being sucked out of you as Bill drew his hand back. “Yes! Absolutely!” He said with a cheer, yanking his hand back suddenly, pulling you out of your physical form. Bill wasted no time taking over your body. He rose up with a delighted laugh, his hands running down your body, taking in the new but familiar feeling. “Wow!” He pressed your palms on your lower back, stretching out your back with a few gratifying pops. “It has been so long since I’ve possessed someone!” Cracking your fingers, he turned over to your floating form with an eerie smile. The world bleeds back into its colors and the soft tranquil sounds of the forest flooded your ears. “Funny how we switched places, huh?” 

You let out a shaky breath, your mind relentlessly battering you with words. How was this even possible? How could you be so foolish? You couldn’t even comprehend any of this. Bill moving around and using your body was terrifying. That was physically you and right now, he was joyously ramming your fist into the tree. You can see the skin on your knuckles rip and tear, blotchy patches of blood tainting the light bark. A light tingle of pain buzzed on your knuckles but it went away as quickly as it came.

“You’re so easy to injure! How weak are you?” He observes the damage eagerly, making your finger pinch on a frayed piece of skin. He twisted it and pulled it back, lightly chuckling to himself as he watched pearls of blood bead up from the now exposed skin. “Bill, stop!” Out of instinct, your hand went over to swat his arm away. A cold gust of wind flows through you as your hand phases right through yo–Bill. He stopped, plucking off the skin and flicking it aside.  “If you keep hurting yours–, I mean, me! They’re going to wonder what happened.”

“Not if I tell them that you got attacked!” He said in a sing-song voice, his eyes keenly looking around for anything else that’ll harm your body. “[Name]!” Stan’s voice rung in the air, pulling you and Bill from your thoughts. A sinister smile tug at Bill’s lips as an idea fills his head. Your stomach flips inside out. Discreet grunts and groans seized your attention and you whipped your head over to Bill climbing up a tree. “What are you doing!” Your hands fly to your hair, gripping it tightly. 

“Breaking the bones inside this meaty vessel, duh.” He hoists himself up on a thick branch. “Would a fall from this height kill you?” Bill ponders out loud, shakily standing up. “Are you seriously going to do this!” Your eyes darted from Bill sticking out your foot from under you to the direction where Stan’s voice could be heard. Bill lets your question float up in the air and with a child-like shout, he jumps off the branch, keeping your legs straight. You look away, unable to witness Bill carelessly treat your body like a toy. 

A stomach turning snap sounded in the air. “[Name]!” Stan’s distressed voice alerted you.

You whip your head around to see Stan cradling your body. Bile crawls up your throat upon seeing your twisted leg limply hang on the other side. “Sweetheart? What happened?” Stan’s words rushed out in a flurried frenzy. You slapped a palm to your mouth, anxiously awaiting for Bill to slip up and sell out his identity to Stan. “I don’t know…” You hear your very own voice leave your mouth. Bill’s agitating voice was nowhere to be heard. Vomit fills your mouth and you fight every muscle in your body to not spew it out. “I was just laying on the tree, not doing anything when something attacked me. I…” Bill allows a few tears to cascade down your face before continuing. “I thought I was going to die, Dad. I was so scared!” He dramatically sobs onto Stan’s sweater, purposefully grazing your shredded bleeding knuckle on his jacket. 

A gasp swelled in Stan’s chest. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I-I…” He harshly shuts his mouth closed, his pupils shrinking upon seeing your bloody knuckle. He was at fault for this, if he had never lied to you, if he would have just told you the truth from the start, you wouldn’t be so injured. Silently he carefully picked you up from the floor. To sprinkle a little more dramatics on the show Bill had out for you, he hissed out in faux pain, shooting your hand to your bent leg. Stan cringed, his eyes avoiding the general direction of your broken leg. “I’m sorry, baby.” He weakly muttered, his eyebrows pinched firmly in worry. 

Stan trekked through the thick foliage with your body curled in his arms. He dodged under branches that stuck out and sidestepped the stones that protruded from the ground. The entire walk was in silence, aside from the periodic sniffles coming from Stan and quiet hiccups. All you wanted to do at that moment was wrap him in a hug and tell him everything was going to be okay, but you weren’t even so sure of that yourself.

When Stan approaches the front door of the shack, a wave of conflicted emotion flickers through Bill’s eyes before he closes his eyes abruptly and goes slack in Stan’s arms. 

Stan chokes out a garbled yell for Ford. He heaves your body over his shoulder, twisting open the door with a slam and barging into the shack. “Stanley?!” Ford frantically ran over to Stan, his hands gesturing wildly at the sight before his eyes. “Th-They passed out in my arms! I don’t know what to do, Stanford!” 

You grapple at your face, desperate to make sense of what’s happening. You watch with a heavy heart when Mable and Dipper scramble to Stan’s side, troubled voices speaking over one another trying to understand what happened to you and to ask if you were dead. Their frantic cries and yells chaotically fill the silence in the shack. Ford yelled over their voices, instructing Stan to quickly settle you down on the couch so he could conduct a proper examination on your wounded body. All Stan could do is go along with his commands, mind hazy with borderline delirium as he stumbles towards the living room. 

“Dad,” you whisper, your fingertips grazing through him. You hold back the sob that scratched at your throat. This can’t be happening right now. 

Cracking an eye open to your direction, you can feel Bill’s sleazy smile draw on your face. Your stomach shrivels up in disgust at the sight. His yellow eyes gleamed under the dimly lit shack as he stared at you. Mable’s rushed steps drew Bill to close your eyes. “Grunkle Stan! Please tell me they’re okay!” Mable has the collar of her sweater pulled up to her mouth, her never ending stream of tears staining the sweater. “Mable. Give him some space.” Dipper murmured, holding Mable back as he tensely watched Stan lay you down. 

Ford eventually came in with a first aid kit. His appearance looked a little more disheveled than before. His hair was strewn about and ruffled, glasses crookedly sat atop of his nose and one of his sleeves was rolled up and cuffed while the other one was untouched. He sucked in a harsh breath upon seeing your split knuckles, dried blood crusted around the wounds and raw skin. The gashes reminded him of his own busted up knuckles when he was possessed by Bill. Alarm signs flared in his face but he batted them away, chalking it up to your injuries being caused by whatever animal had attacked you in the woods when you were alone. He treated the lacerations with antibodies and meticulously wrapped your hand in medical gauze. Gently placing your hand beside you, he looked over to your broken leg, holding a bated breath. Broken bones weren’t his favorite injury to heal since it takes extensive time off from anything physical and you having a broken leg at a time like this wasn’t ideal. He just needed to find ways to heal your leg quickly. 

“I need you all to leave the living room.” Ford clapped his hands together, dragging a hand down his fingers. “W-What, why?!” This was the first time Stan spoke in a while and it surprised Ford. Clearing his throat, he answered: “Because I can’t focus with your eyes hovering all over me. I-I need to think and if I’m going to treat their leg, I need you all to leave.” Against everyone’s wishes, Ford ushered them out,  leaving him alone to fully think about possible treatments he could have you undergo to heal your leg. 

You didn’t have a good feeling about leaving Bill alone with Ford. They had history with each other and having a past with someone like Bill doesn’t seem like a good thing. 

“Fordsy…” 

Ford’s body physically recoiled inwards at the familiar nickname. His head darted around the room, helplessly searching for the owner of the voice. He can’t be here can he? That voice just sounded so eerily similar to yours, but why would you call him Fordsy? Blood pumps in his ear drums, obstructing his hearing. 

“Sixeerrr.” His fingers curl around his arms. The light glow of horrifying unforgettable eyes glimmer in the corner of his eyes. He turns over to see you sat up on the couch, a smile stretched from ear to ear as Bill’s eyes shone into his. Ford’s blood ran cold, his mind swirling like a whirlwind. “Bill?” His heart pounds behind his rib cage. 

“The one and only, Sixer.” Hearing Bill’s voice crackle through your own instilled despair all over Ford’s body. Taking a wary step back, his shaky eyes watched as Bill threw your legs down the couch, your left eye flinching closed as pain shivered through Bill. He severely underestimated how much pain your leg would cause him. To fight against it, he slammed your leg on the floor. Pain jostled through him, a shuddering sigh blowing past your lips. The aching pain overtook your leg for a moment before it relented into a numbing buzzing feeling. “Much better!” He stands up, smiling broadly. 

Ford sucked in a stuttering breath, his eyes fleeting over to the hallway. “What do you want, Bill?” 

“I don’t know…” He rolled your head in thought. “Maybe the rift to the portal? It’s a crazy thing to ask, I know!” He laughs to himself. 

You wanted to bash your head on the wall. This was the reason why he made a deal with you. It was because of a stupid rift. You’ve only heard bits and pieces of the importance of the rift, but you knew it was serious business with how you heard Ford talk about it in passing. You need to find a way to stop Bill. 

Ford sneered. “Try all you want, Bill. But you’re not getting the portal.” Bill rolled your shoulders, earning a few noisy crackles of your bones. Ford tenses up, readying himself for the fight that’s about to pursue when Bill charges towards him, side stepping him at the last second and darting out of the living room. “Haha! I got you!” He teases, hissing out in pain when he applied too much pressure on your busted leg. “Stanley!” Ford yelled out, stumbling over his own feet as he ran after Bill. Hurried footsteps stomp down on the stairs, panicked talking and breaths littered the air. “[Name] is possessed by Bill!” A chorus of “WHAT?” echoes in the house. 

He skids to a stop in front of the open vending machine. Ford tugged on his hair, mumbling to himself in shock. How does he know the password? Wasting no time to dwell on that, he pads down the stairs. His stomach lurches forward when he notices Bill step inside the elevator, a snarky smile on your face as he turns around and waves at Ford. “Bill!” He launches himself forward, missing a few steps of the stairs and landing on the ground near the elevator. He trips over to the closing elevator, his fist slamming on the door as it shuts. 

“Ford, what is going on?” Stan pants out. Ford rapidly presses the elevator button, anxiously watching as the elevator dinged on down to the bottom. An idea passes through your head. Mumbling a self-motivating sentence Mable had showed you, you dived straight through the floor, phasing through the other two rooms and landing in the lab room. As stupid as it sounds, you’re going to repossess your body back.  

“Bill, he–he has [Name]!” Ford delivers a punch to the buttons, knocking the plate off its screws. Stan’s face contorts into a mixture of anger and concern. “He has what!? How the fuck does Bill have [Name], Ford!” Ford rested his forehead on the wall. “Now’s not the time to freak out, Stanley!”

Stan clenched his fists, grinding his teeth together. “It’s the perfect time to freak out, Stanford! Bill has my kid!” 

“Bill has [Name]?” Mable’s shrill reverberated through the empty staircase. “Kids, you can’t be here!” Ford warns, shooting out his hand to stop Mable and Dipper from getting any closer. “We want to help, Grunkle Ford.” Dipper sternly said. “That’s a funny joke, kid.” Stan chuffs out dryly, his attention snapping towards the elevator that was now rising up the shaft, dinging with each stop. “It’s not a joke!” Dipper dipped under Ford’s arm and stood in front of the elevator, Mable following in suit. “Stanley, do something!” Ford gestures to Mable and Dipper who are unmoving from their spot. Stan scoffs, dismissing him with a flick of his wrist. “They’re already here, Stanford. There’s no point in stoppin’ them now.” 

With a loud chime, the elevator pulls back its doors. The twins were the first to step inside, whispering to themselves as Ford and Stan walked in. Mable rushes over to the panel containing three buttons and using her tippy toes, she slams the last button with the palm of her hand. The elevator registers the destination with a slight rumble and shuts the door closed, leading them down to Ford’s lab. 

Ford could see Stan’s harsh breathing and clenched fists out the corner of his eye. Placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, he steels both him and Ford with: “We’re going to save them, Stanley.” Stan breathes out, teetering his head back with his eyes shut. “I hope you’re right about that.” 

The elevator quivers to a stop, the doors creakily pulling open. The four of them step out of the elevator and into the lab. “I was expecting it to be destroyed down here.” Dipper comments. 

Through the protective window, Ford could see Bill fighting with himself, your body laying limp for a few seconds before revving back up to life. He watches the cycle repeat for a few more times before shaking his head. “He’s outside.” He advises everyone. 

In a blink of an eye, Stan was already out into where Bill was, blowing countless angry questions at his face, his eyes shifting everywhere but at you. “Woah, woah, woah!” Bill took a cautious step back as he watched everyone circle around him, caught off guard with the sudden intrusion. “Don’t get your underwear in a twist, haha, am I right?” 

Pure and utter silence. 

Bill’s smile falters. “Okay, touch crowd!” 

“Cut the crap, Bill. Give me back my kid!” Stan grunts out. “I can let them talk to you! After all, they’re up here.” He taps the side of your head. “Stop messing around!” Ford takes a step toward Bill. “Don’t come any closer!” Your own voice filters through Bill’s interdimensional voice. Ford hesitates in his steps, sharing a cautionary glance with Stan. Shuffling your hand behind you, he pulls out the shimmering rift. “I will break this!” He threatens, flipping it upside down. 

Ford narrows his eyes at Bill. “You would’ve done so by now. What’s stopping you?” He motions Dipper and Mable to sneak past Bill and hide behind him, just in case he decides to do anything that’ll compromise the rift and you. “Nothing!” Bill strains out, trying to wiggle the rift out of your grasp. Ford takes notice of your white knuckles and connects two and two together. You’re somehow fighting against Bill for your body. “Fascinating…” 

“Aghh! Why can’t this stupid kid let go!” Bill grumbles, using your other hand to scrape at your clenched hand. He scratched and clawed until the skin on your hand was red and raw. “Is [Name] currently fighting against you?” Ford inquires, a delighted smile on his face. “W-What? No!” Bill plucks your pinky finger off the rift. “See! I’m in total–” Your body jerks forward, and for a slight second, your eyes glinted back, only for you to be propelled backwards. With a shake of your head, your eyes blink and Bill’s eyes are back on you. “[Name] is a fighter, that’s for sure!” He awkwardly laughs out, still regaining control over your body with how he waverly stumbled side to side. 

Taking advantage of his vulnerability, Ford sent a quiet signal to Mable and Dipper. The twins tackle Bill from behind. A startle yelp leaves his mouth as he falls forward. “Stanley the–” Stan was already swooping in and snatching the rift out of your hands in one swift motion. Bill's face planted on the floor. “This stupid weak body!” Bill whines out, having your hands buckled tightly to your back by Dipper and Mabel. “Get something to tie their arms together with!” Stan said, jogging back into the lab, discreetly hiding the rift away from Bil’’s prodding eyes.

“I was so close!” Bill pressed your face into the dirt. The sharp tiny stones cut into your cheek and all Bill could do is focus on the itching pain rather than the humiliating feeling of being pinned down by two twelve year olds. Ford grabs the rope and securely binds your wrists together. The twins finally shuffle away from your body, watching Bill struggle under the restraints. “I’m going to be traumatized by the end of this.” She lets out a dejected sigh. “I feel like nothing can phase me after this.” Dipper adds. 

“How are we going to get them back into their body?” Stan questioned Ford who was double checking the bindings on your wrist, making sure they weren’t too tight to burn your skin off but tight enough to keep Bill detained “I think I have an idea on how…” He breathes out, looking over to Stan, face full of unease. “But it might not work if everyone isn’t present.” 

Stan found himself staring dumbly at the diagram that Ford had etched into the dirt with a stick. “What is this?” Ford finished the final symbol within the diagram, discarding the stick behind him. “A zodiac diagram.” He says, dusting off his hands. “And what does this have to do with saving [Name]?” 

Ford spares a quick glance over to you. Mable and Dipper sat on each of your sides, keeping a careful eye on you as you alternated with yourself and Bill. Dipper’s face contorted into a painful expression whenever you’d jerk your head upwards, a random assortment of words spilling out of you before your head flies back down. That agonizing process continues for what feels like an eternity and he could clearly see the toll it’s taken on your body. Stan couldn't make himself  watch you suffer, biting his lip so hard blood builds up on his lip.

“Yes.” Ford curtly nods his head. “I had always hypothesized what this would be used for but It never occurred to me until now that it could be used like this.” 

Stan doesn’t like the slight sound of uncertainty in Ford’s tone. How could Ford be so sure that it works? “So, you’re telling me that you have never done this before?” 

“Pretty much, yeah.” He shrugs, pushing up his glasses that were sliding down his nose. “Don’t worry about whether it works or not. We don’t have time to think about what if’s.” Curiously eyeing the symbols on the floor, he pondered in his head. Who could possibly stand on what zodiac?

Mable had walked right next to Stan, she looked like she had something to say when her eyes fell on the diagram, her eyes shining. “That one reminds me of Wendy.” She points at the zodiac that was an ice bag. An idea dawned upon Ford. “Does it now?” He kneels down to Mable’s height. “Mable, dear. Can you look at these zodiac signs and tell me who they remind you of?” 

Mable was quick to point out and tell Ford each symbol that reminded her of a person. Jotting down all the names in his head, he began calling each and every one of them, stringing Mable along to help him convince them to come over to the Mystery Shack. One by one, they all started pooling in. Questions sprouted from one mouth to another and every single time, their questions received answers when their eyes landed on your struggling form.

“Okay, everyone stand in your respective spots and hold hands!” Ford’s voice was quiet in the distance. Stan had found himself kneeling in front of you, his expression unreadable but his eyes carried a deep sorrowful guilt to them. “Feeling guilty, Stanley?” Bill drawled out, pulling your heavy head up, only for it to be knocked down to the side. Your body was growing weak and Bill was tirelessly fighting against it. Unbeknownst to Stan, you were right next to him. Your unrelenting attempts to gain your body back had caused an aggressive strain on your body. You couldn’t stay in it without feeling utterly exhausted, allowing Bill to abuse your weak spot and take over your body. But that weak spot had also applied to him as well. You were trying to regain your breath before you’d try again. 

“Can it, Bill.” He scoops you up from the floor, walking towards the diagram. 

“You don’t have to do this!” Bill aggressively barked out, throwing himself around in Stan’s hold. “I do have to do this. You’re in my kid's body.” He grunted, throwing your body over his shoulder. “They made a deal with me! I won this body fair and square.” Bill argued, hammering your head down on Stan’s back. “Look, I just found out about you not too long ago. But for someone who was supposedly this all powerful demon, you pathetically really weak.” 

He approaches the diagram, setting your body down in the middle. “That’s because I haven’t revealed my true potential yet!” He struck the back of your head hard on the floor, causing your vision to go bleak for a moment. “Do you really need to do all of that?” You grumble, rubbing the back of your tender head. “I do what I please.” He mumbles to himself, rolling over on your stomach. 

Standing in his spot, Stan locked hands with Ford and Soos. “It’s most likely going to feel weird! Stick it through and don’t, I repeat, don’t let go!” A blinding blue light shoots up from the middle and travels through the lines of the diagram, illuminating the place in a bright blue light. 

“No!’ Bill writhed around. He could feel himself slipping away. Your forehead makes direct contact with a rock. He smiles at it, knocking your head against it again. “Oh, Billy! You are just full of ideas today.” He whispered, shuffling over to the stone to the point where he was hovering over it. He laid your head down, feeling the cold stone press against the middle of your forehead. Breathing in through clenched teeth, he raised your head up high. He nailed your head down on the rock, splitting through skin. You could feel the ghost touch of blood trickle down your forehead. 

He laughed crazily as he continued to bash your head onto the rock. With each blow, the rock was painted with more and more blood. He was going to kill you at this rate. Bill lowered his head back down on the rock and you shut your eyes closed. You weren’t going to see Bill crack your head open. But the blistering pain never registered, peeking your eyes open you saw Stan had caught your head in his hand. 

Ford yelled out Stan’s name but Stan ignored it. His chest rapidly heaved in and out as he fell to his knees, resting your dazed head on his lap. You had noticed that Bill was slipping out of your physical form. Darting over to him, you grabbed his hand and ripped him out. Before you could hear Bill’s flurry of cries, you dove right in, repossessing your body once again and hopefully for the last time. 

Grumbled groans escaped you as you regained all your senses. You jolted up in striking pain. Everything hurt, even more than the last you took over. Your stomach rumbled, a flood of whatever liquid shot up into your mouth. You leaned to the side, expelling the fluid. Peeling open your weary eyes, you felt yourself grow nauseous at the pool of blood in front of you. “[Name]!” Stan grabbed your face, directing it toward him. He looked at your eyes and a look of relief settled on his face. “Dad?” You groggily said, your whole world spinning. “Are you okay? Is that demon gone? Where is he?” The massive load of questions made you want to vomit all over again. 

I’m still here! Bill’s grating voice grinding against your brain. You crumble under Stan’s hold, your head thumping in pain “No. He’s still in my head.” You felt another rush of blood clamor up into your mouth. You meekly shove Stan’s hands away from your face, hurling another dump of blood. Cautious voices sounded all around you, your vision distorting in a blurry mess. “Dad?” You forcefully focused your eyes on Stan’s face. “I think there’s something wrong with me.” Talking was enough to strip you away from all the energy you had left and you weren’t sure you had enough time to say anything else before Bill took over again. 

“I know, baby. I know. We’re goin’ to get help, stay with me. Please.” Stan said something to Ford you couldn’t quite catch.

You felt his arms wrap around you and lay you down back on his lap. I’m going to kill you. You scratched at your aching head. “His voice hurts. Hearing it hurts so much.” You murmured, feeling a hand run down your arm up and down soothingly. “Stay strong for me, sweetheart.” A light kiss was pressed on your forehead. 

You cried out, feeling yourself being pulled away. 

“Stanley! Come back now!” You could make out Ford’s scream at Stan. The world was fading before you and you couldn’t help but break down as you heard Bill cackle in your head. Stan saw your eyes flicker to yellow and he delicately placed you down on the floor, running back to his spot. Bill seamlessly takes over, blinking himself awake as he’s shuffling your body up to your knees.

“This is all your fault, Stanley Pines. [Name]’s death will be on your hands!” He bellows, purposely allowing your voice to break through. The strenuous action causes him to tremble forward, blood splattering on the grass. Bill started yelling nonsensical blabbers, anything that would make Stan budge from his spot, to stop the whole process but he stayed put, directly staring Bill down. Bill fell to the side, coughing up bile and a random assortment of fluids. 

In a flash of blue, you feel yourself fully grounded back into your body. A feeling you feel like you haven’t felt in forever. 

A grinding yell echoed in your head. You are so disgustingly weak! Bill screamed in your head. Another splitting headache bore into your head but all you could do is lay there and take it in, feeling so worn-out and droopy that you weren’t able to physically react. I didn’t do much and you’re dying! I did all of this for nothing, for nothing! And it is all your fault! I should’ve broken every single bone in your body and twisted your neck. At least I would’ve gained something from that! You are so useless! 

He was wreaking havoc in your mind. The blinding pain subsided to a lingering pain, black dots swarming your vision. He seems to be doing last minute damage before he’s left with no other choice but to leave your body. With a rugged distorted babble from Bill, your whole world went dark. 

The waiting room was cold, so numbingly cold. Stan casted his gaze down to his hands. Your blood had stained them. He couldn’t tell if it was the blood from your forehead, or the blood you vomited out. But your own blood had been smeared all over him and it made him sick to his stomach. He couldn’t erase the image of your cold limp body laying on the grass, face covered in streaks of blood. This was all his fault. If he had just told you how things were from the start, this wouldn’t have happened. You would’ve been next to him, chattering his ear off about something irrelevant while asking him multiple times if he was listening to you. Despite his thoughts, your soothing presence wasn’t there to console his mourning heart. 

Your doctor had came in earlier to share the state that your body was in. Everyone listened intently to her words as she described the damage that Bill had caused to your body. She said doctors were so mortified with your condition, labeling it as one they have never seen before with how many injuries you sustained on the outside and inside. Stan and Ford had to dodge some questions that had the doctor fired at them, excusing your evenstive wounds with a slip off a mountain, silly teenage activities that almost cost you your own life. She didn’t buy it. 

The doctor's slight graphic description of your injuries only cemented the guilt deeper into Stan. He was a bad father wasn’t it? The only thing he prided himself in for doing right was so easily taken away from him in a blink of an eye. He really was a screw up. Ford and his Dad were right. 

“Stanley.” Ford’s hand on his shoulder withdrew him from his thoughts. “We need to go home. It’s late.” He looks briefly to the seat next to him. The twins had sat on the same seat, their muddled expressions were no longer on their face, instead they were sleeping peacefully, heads leaning against each other. “The twins are asleep.” He tells him. Stan’s gaze glued on his tainted hands. “I’m staying here.” He weakly said. “You need sleep, Stanley.” 

“I can sleep here, Ford.” He snapped, expression tight. “They are going to kick you out.” 

Stan shrugged, clasping his hands together. “Then they’d hafta kick me out then.” 

“I’m not leaving you here.” 

Stan leaned his head back against the wall, huffing out. “I’m not in any mood to fight with you here.” Taking off his glasses, he rubbed his burning eyes. “I’m staying here and there’s nothin’ you can do about it.” He placed his glasses on his lap and crossed his arms, closing his eyes as he shifted around to get comfortable enough to sleep. “Always been so stubborn.” Ford shook his head, getting up from the seat with a light groan. “I’m leaving.” He picks up the slumbering twins, being extra careful to not jostle them around and wake them. Stan grumbled in response, hearing Ford’s footsteps fade away in the distance. 

Stan doesn’t know how long it’s been, all he knows is that he had fallen asleep with the way his neck was sore. “Sir?” A voice broke through his drowsiness. “Sir?” They call out again. “Hm, wha?” Stan peeled open his eyes, the glaring hospital lights momentarily blinded him. Covering his eyes with his palm, he squinted at the lady in front of him. “What’s goin’ on?” 

“We’re closing up for the night, sir. I need you to leave.” She calmly said, offering a soft smile to Stan. “But my kid, they’re in here. I need to be here if anything happens.” He scrambles to put his glasses on. “I assure you sir, whoever your kid is, will be fine. We will keep a lookout if anything happens.” 

“How are you guys goin’ to keep a lookout when you’re all home sleeping away like there isn’t people dying in here!” Stan argued. “Now's not the time, sir. I need you to leave or you’d be personally escorted out by the guards.” Stan sighed, standing up from his chair. “You don’t have to do all that.” He mutters, cracking his back before walking out. Walking out into the summer night, he pulled out his phone to check the time. 

11 P.M. it read. It looked like the doctors allowed him to stay overtime. Usually they’d kick people out of the waiting rooms by around 9 P.M.

His eyes freeze at the baby picture of you on his lockscreen. The photo was taken on your fourth birthday. Stan had gone all out, as he always did, and got you a little birthday hat, little cupcake with a candle that had your age on it, and a mess of confetti and other birthday assortments. You had such a large smile on your face as you were mid bite into your cupcake. He remembered the day so vividly as if it happened yesterday. He clenched his phone tightly, tears flooding his vision. Why did it have to be you? Running his arm roughly over his eyes, he sniffed. He shoved his phone back into his pockets and started walking back to the shack. 

Ford found himself being startled awake by a knock on the door. Sluggishly getting up from the couch, he walked over to the gift shop entrance. He opened the door to be pleasantly surprised to see Stan. He stepped aside, letting Stan walk in. “Kicked you out?” 

“Yup.” Stan accentuating the ‘p’.

“Told you.” 

A quick moment of silence takes over before Stan breaks it. “Is this all my fault?” 

“You were just trying to protect them.” Ford walks over to Stan, shoving his hands under his armpits. “Look where that got ‘em.” Stan cracked his thumb, whispering something to himself before timidly looking at Ford. “Do ya think you can stay with me tonight?” He sheepishly scratches his cheek. “I don’t think I can trust myself bein’ alone or whatever.” 

Ford earnestly smiled at him. “I don’t mind.” Stan nods. “You sleep on the floor though.” 

Stan’s phone loudly rattled on his nightstand, his ringtone noisily blaring its song. “Turn it off!” Ford cried out, folding his pillow over his head. Stan arose from his abundance of blankets and grabbed his phone, dragging it off the nightstand. He squinted at the screen, trying to make sense of the blurry text. Stan reached out for his glasses, shoving them on his face and directing his eyes back on the screen. The word hospital flashed on his face. 

“It’s the hospital!” He swiped his finger, answering the call. He put his phone to his ear and anxiously waited. “Stanley Pines?” A snotty voice spoke from the phone. “Yes!” He clears his throat. “Yes, yes. That’s me. Why’re you callin’?” 

“[Name] has woken up and…” Stan had blocked everything else she said and shut up from the bed. “They’re awake!” He announced, shedding off his blankets and launching off his bed, accidentally stepping on Ford in the process. The whole morning was spent dashing around the house, vigorously getting dressed and making sure everyone was ready to head over to the hospital. After Ford’s triple check, they all clamored inside in the car and drove to the hospital. 

Stan burst into your room, his eyes locking with your bandaged form. “Dad!” You weakly called out, a shaky smile on your face. “Pumpkin!” He sighed out, relieved at seeing your beautiful smile. He wraps you in his arms, burying his face into your hair as he sobs. “I thought..I thought–!” He blubbers out. More welcoming arms wrap around you, wailing wracking through the air. “[Name]!!” Mable dragged out. “Don’t scare us like that ever again.” Dipper sniffed, scrubbing his eyes clear of tears. “Welcome back, kid.” Ford plants a kiss on the top of your head. 

“I’m here guys, you don’t have to worry so much.” You laugh, Stan wiping your tears with his thumb. “How can we not? We almost lost you, pumpkin.” After a tearful reunion, everyone stepped back, allowing you to breathe. They only gave you a few more minutes to yourself before they bombarded you with apologies. Mable and Dipper were stuck to your side, each of them giving you their own version of puppy eyes. Mable was more into it than Dipper, but you still accepted their apologies with a big hug.

“I’m sorry too, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have lied to you. I should have been honest from the get go.” You took Stan’s hand, patting it like you would a dog. “It’s okay, Dad. I forgave you long ago. I should have followed what Ford said and calmed down.” You slightly glare at Ford. “Though, I didn’t like how he said it to me at the same time, so maybe I am justified in my anger?” 

“Ford doesn’t know how to talk. What’s new?” Stan knocked his shoulder with Ford who rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I’m the butt of the joke. As always.” 

“If it isn’t you! Then it would be Dipper,” Mable pokes at him. “But me and Grunkle Stan told all the jokes possible so it isn’t as funny as making fun of you, Grunkle Ford! You’re so nerdy and losery, more than Dipper. And that isn’t a good thing.” 

A crackly laugh leaves Stan. “Thanks for explaining, dear.” Ford said with a strain, his smile wavering. “Someone one upped you, Dipper.” You chuckle. “I don’t know if I should revel in it or feel sad for Ford.” Dipper tapped his finger on his chin. “Don’t overthink it, dude.” You flick his forehead. 

“And Grunkle Ford, where is your apology?” Mable raised her chin up high, doing her best attempt of a haughty queen looking down at her jester. Ford scoffs, “I’m so sorry, your humble majesty.” Dipping his head low to mimic a bow. 

“Oh?” You and Mable share a bewildered expression. “I wasn’t expecting him to actually do it.” You look over to Dipper who had an uncomfortable expression on his face. “I don’t like what’s going on here.” 

“Wait, are you going to have a cool scar on your forehead now?” Mable questions, pointing at your bandaged forehead. Bumbling conversation fills the air, laughter occasionally humming here and there. In the end, they all had to leave for your routine check up by the doctors. Stan was the last one to bid goodbye to you. Kissing your forehead, he held onto your hand, his eyes glistening with tears. 

“I love you so much, kiddo. If I had lost you back there, I dunno what would have happened to me.” He caresses his thumb against your hand. “Don’t say stuff like that, Dad. I’m here, that’s what counts.” 

You share a long hug together, with a few tears being shed.

“I know, I know.” Giving you one last kiss and embrace, he waves you goodbye. 

“I love you!” 

“I love you more, Dad!” 

Taglist: @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @lovexsage, @teddycricketdream, @theilluminatidragonqueen, @raventeen @cedarmoonzz, @katharine3000

dm or comment if you want to be added/removed :3

[mooooonnnzz]

hi!!! I fell in love with your content and I wanted to make a little request, since it was on my mind for a while...

It's kinda cringe but I saw your hc's/fic about Stan's and Ford's reaction to their daughter having a partner, but what would they say about the break-up??? how would they react?? 💔💔

I'm Glad There Is You

Stan + Ford HC's of you getting broken up with!

ʚ♡ɞ 4,2k words

ʚ♡ɞ we're so back

ʚ♡ɞ i've been cooking this up for the past few days mwehehe

ʚ♡ɞ i won't be publishing fics as frequently! but its better cuz i wont be pushing out poopy fics. i can actually take my time with them and make em better :3

ʚ♡ɞ that's all enjoy! request are still open too :p

🎱 Stan

𝄞 Stan hadn’t suspected a thing when he saw you rush into your room after being out all day. You occasionally do that when you were exhausted and had no more battery left in you to uphold another conversation. But, when he saw you all disheveled in appearance. Not bothering to glance at him, let alone tell him about your day, he knew something was up. Springing your wellbeing in the conversation was tricky. He knows that if he straight up asked if you’re okay, you’d burst out into tears and cry out incoherent words that sounded like mushed up sobs into his ear. So how could he ease you into talking about yourself without having you break down? For the remainder of the day, he was tackling himself with ways he could ask about how you’re doing, stemming from slapping a sticky note on your forehead to passing a note under your door. But none of them seemed effective. His brain was splitting into two. He couldn’t decide and the day was coming to a close. The orange overhang of the sun shone into the shack and Stan was contemplating on asking your partner why you were sad because if he didn’t know what was going on, your partner had an idea or the full picture. He decided against it though. Maybe this was something you’d rather keep to yourself? 

𝄞 The stress was so bad he had to go outside for a quick smoke. Seeing you in an emotional state of disarray sends him into one as well. He plucked a cigarette from his pack and pinched it in between his lips. Craning his head up a bit to light up the cigarette, he shielded the orange flame sparkling to life from the wind with his cupped hand. He blew a stream of smoke into the evening air, his electrifying nerves nulling into a soft calming buzz. He knew smoking was bad for him, but he couldn’t stray away from it in times like these. The door to the front porch painfully creaked open. Looking over his shoulder, he softly smiled upon seeing you. “Pumpkin,” He pats the side right next to him. You take the seat and inhale the crisp air—well, from what you can get with all the cigarette smoke littering the air. “Second hand smoking is way worse than first hand.” You mention, delicate amusement trailing in your words as you take a seat beside him. 

𝄞 “You’re the one who walked out here knowing I was smoking.” He replied with a flick of his hand. Another trail of smoke escapes his mouth as he exhales, his body visibly relaxing into the familiar routine. “I should get a cigarette too.” You stretched out your arms, cracking a small smile. “Heh,” Stan flicked the cigarette, small shreds of ashes trickling down from the burning end of the stick. “You think you’re funny.” You nod intensely. “I think I’m very funny.” You look off into the horizon, eyes carrying such a thick somber look to them Stan had to finally ask the question he had been beating around the bush for who knows how long. “You okay, kiddo?” 

���� Your eyes glisten over with tears, bottom lip trembling as you hold back the words you’ve been dreading to say to your dad the minute news broke out to you. “Oh, [Name].” Stan burnt out his cigarette, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and bringing you closer to him. The pure affection coming from Stan made you pour out more tears, trembling sobs wracking your body as you mournfully cried onto his shoulder. “Let it out, sweetpea.” His hand comfortingly patted your back. This wasn’t how he wanted this to go, but maybe you needed a quick cry to comfortably tell him what happened. His stomach churned as the suspicion of the reason why you were crying into his shoulder rose. He had a feeling on why you were acting like that, but he had hoped he was wrong.

𝄞 He wasn’t wrong. He was right, unfortunately for him. After recollecting yourself to the best of your ability, Stan had discovered that your partner had broken up with you earlier today for reasons that they had not specified. Frustration bubbled up inside Stan and it took every bone in his body to not slam his fists on your ex’s door, gun in hand to shoot them down for breaking your heart. Instead, he opted to swallow down his anger and tend to you. You needed him to be right by your side and he wasn’t going to suddenly up and leave to shoot down a person. He’d wind up in jail and then you would have to deal with the loss of your partner and your dad. The thought sent chills down his spine. You peeled yourself off his shoulder, leaving a slobbering teary eyed stain on suit. “I’m sorry.” You mutter, eyes red and burning from the force of squeezing them closed. “It’s okay, sweetpea. You don’t need to apologize for things like this, you know that right?” His thumb swipes a stray tear off your cheek. “I know,” You hiccup. Stan seeing you like this infront of him shredded his heart into tiny little pieces. Who could hurt you like this? How could someone protect his child’s heart and break it the next day? Your partner even promised that they’d never pull a stunt like this, and yet here you are, bleary eyed and sniffily.

𝄞 Your face pinched with a forever sorrowful look and for a second he thinks that he’s never going to have you back, he’s never going to see your smile ever again and that alone terrifies him. There has to be something that can cheer you up, right? You’re not forever stuck in this pool of sadness? This is something someone can get over right? All prior knowledge to his personal relationship flies off his head and out the window. He removes himself from his thoughts and grounds him in the moment. What is something that’ll cheer you up? An idea sprouted in his mind. “Want to watch a movie with your old man?” He doesn’t know how you’d respond to his offer and it slightly scares him. He’s never been able to fully predict your every move, but he has made some sense of them later on, but he’s never seen you in this state before and he doesn’t know what to expect. “I’d like that.” You meekly nod your head and Stan has to contain himself from lurching up into the air and cheering out in happiness. Rather, he clears his throat and broadly smiles at you. “I’m gonna take a real quick shower. Pick out a movie you wanna watch and I’ll be back in no time.” 

𝄞 The rest of the night was spent snuggled up in the sofa, a blanket of yours of when you were a kid was draped over you and Stan. It barely gave you any coverage but you claimed that it did when Stan would mention it. Stan didn’t want to disagree with you and besides, the blanket reminded him of when you were a little kid, carefree and giddy with little to no knowledge of idiotic people who’d carelessly shatter your heart and leave you without any consolation. The movie that was playing was and still is an all time favorite of yours. You and Stan had memorized the lines that have been forever sewn into your brain from how many times you forced Stan to watch it when you were little. Guess some things don’t change. The days following are full of extensive care and love, enough that would be overbearing to anyone that wasn’t you–at least sometimes. 

𝄞 Fishing outings were a must. Stan would rapidly knock on your door, standing on the other side decked head to toe in his fishing outfit. Your fishing hat in hand. You couldn’t say no to him when he’s looking at you with such a sad look in his eyes and dressed up, putting on your worn fishing hat that has seen better days. Stan proudly smiled at you, wiping off a tear from the corner of his eye. “Why are you crying, Dad?” You chuffed nervously. “My eyes are sweating!” He covered his eyes with his forearm, violently sobbing as he walked away to get the fishing gear. In his defense, he hasn’t gone fishing with you in a good long while and seeing you wearing your fishing outfit really triggered the water works in his eye. The past week has been an emotional wreck for you and him, who could blame him? You had forgotten how much fun fishing was. A laugh rattles through your throat as you reel back your fishing rod. This must be your third attempt in catching a fish, and Stan’s enthusiastic commentary struck a funny cord within you. With a few more tugs and reeling back, you caught the fish. “Awesome catch!” He patted your back with so much force, you jolted forward, making the boat lean to the side, causing you to lose your footing and drop the fish in the water. When you were about to revel in your loss, you heard a large splash and large droplets of water sprinkling over you. You turned your attention over to where the splash was heard and to your luck, Stan bobbed his head out of the water, gasping dramatically as his arms flailed around. “Dad!” You laugh.

𝄞 “The water isn’t even that deep.” Talking was a task to do with how hard you were laughing. “Oh.” He stopped thrashing around and allowed him to sink to the bottom of the lake floor. And to his surprise, the water barely even passed his upper chest. That realization made you hunch over in laughter. “Oh, stop laughing!” He grabbed onto the edge of the boat and tried pulling himself up, but the sudden shift in weight made the boat tip over, sending you and all the other belongings in the boat into the freezing water. “[Name]!” He looked to where you were under the water, ready to dive in and grab you from below when you sprung out of the water. You stared at him, cheeks puffed as you struggled to hold back your laughter. “Oh, whatever.” His initial panic was washed off with playful annoyance. “Go ahead, laugh at your old man.” He rolls his eyes upon hearing your boisterous laughter echo in the air. “That was insane!” You wrap your arms around Stan’s neck, hoisting yourself up so you don’t drown while laughing. “Yeah, go ahead. Laugh at this poor old man who’s clearly struggling.” 

𝄞 Singing your favorite songs in your karaoke machine was his favorite way to catch you off guard. He’d notice you reminiscing on the past and he’d make a beeline to your machine, slamming the buttons that would turn it on and play a song that you like. His gruff scratchy singing voice always pulled you out of your mind and into the present moment. Walking into the living room where he relocated your karaoke machine for times like these, you couldn’t help but laugh as he passionately sang into the microphone. “Disco girl, coming through! That girl is you!” He points the microphone at you, motioning you over to join him. It takes some convincing but when you do, you and him are blissfully singing your hearts out into the microphone. 

𝄞 Seeing your partner around town was an immediate mood kill for Stan. Unaware and in a chipper mood, he found himself in the grocery store. Stacking up on food and snacks to fill your stomach and his. When strolling into the available cash register, his smile curls into a grimace when he sees who was behind the counter. “You,” he spat out. “Ah, Mr. Pines!” They nervously chuckled. “Good to see you. How’s it been?” They can’t make eye contact. The lazer like glare Stan was giving them was enough to know that things haven’t been good. Grabbing an item from the shopping cart, he hovered it over the conveyor belt, mulling over his thoughts. He could not pay for this and run out of the store or he could unscrew the carton of milk and squirt it all over your ex. Or maybe, he could do both? With speed no one could comprehend, he undid the lid and spilled the milk all over them, chucking the empty carton right on their head for extra measure. He then grabbed the cart and bolted out of the grocery store, leaving everyone in the store stunned. “Is anyone going to arrest him or?” A random passerby asked, watching how your ex just stood there, completely befuddled with milk dripping down their body. 

𝄞 “Dad? Why is the news saying that you assaulted a worker in the grocery store with milk?” Stan scoffed. “Don’t believe everything you see on the news, sweetie.” He takes a good sip of his pitt cola. “But it shows camera footage of you doing it.” You gesture to the video that was playing. “Fake news. You know how technology is advancing. They can make anything these days.” He grabs the remote and switches channels. “There! Now, we don’t have to see that.” You smile, elbowing him. “It was cool that you did that.” You mutter. He chuckles. “The kid deserved that.” 

𝄞 Drives around the town and wreaking havoc in rival attraction traps were a good stress reliever and anger outlet. You were swinging with all your might, your axe that was in hand was splintering through the large wooden statue. “Keep going!” Stan was serving as a lookout, his eyes switching through the front door and to you. Sweat rolled down your temples as you delivered one last final blow to the statue. The statue slowly tipped forward. “Let’s go.” Stan urgently whispered, running back to the family van with you in tow. Stan started the van and sped out of the parking lot and into the driveway. “God dammit, Stanley Pines!” The person emerged from his house, shaking his fist in the air. You clapped your hands together, laughing. “That was a fun one.” You noted, swiping the sweat off your forehead with your shirt. “Who’s next?” You ask eagerly. “Check on the map. You decided where we will go next.” This was the first time you fully smiled at him with your signature laugh following after. No remnants of sadness stuck to you. He knew right then and there that he got you back. 

📖 Ford

𝄞 Ford was peacefully slumbering on the couch when the front door was slammed shut, scaring him awake. He jolted forward, the book that was covering his face fell flat on his lap, startling him. “[Name]?” He closes the book in his lap and pushes it aside. You didn’t respond and he was quickly resorting to the idea that it wasn’t you. Creeping towards your room, his knuckles knock on the door. “Sweetie?” He puts his hand on the knob and very slowly turns it. “I’m coming in.” He announces. Opening the door, his eyes land on your back. Quiet sniffles and hiccups could be heard coming from you and Ford’s heart clenched in his chest. He never liked hearing you cry. “[Name]?” He settles himself down on your bed. He couldn’t get to see your face properly since you were curled inwards with your blanket slightly obstructing your face, but he could see your body quiver as you suppressed your sobs. Ford sucked his bottom lip into his teeth. Equally as clueless as his brother, he doesn’t know how to approach this. He hadn’t had the slightest idea of why you’re crying and that truly bugs him. 

𝄞 His hand rests on your hip, fingers tapping in a soothing rhythm. “Wanna tell me what’s wrong?” He’s chewing on his lip, anxiety running its full race through his body, relentless and awfully energetic. He’s sure by the end of this, he wasn’t going to have a bottom lip from how much he was nibbling on it. You shuffle further into your blanket in response. “You don’t wanna talk about it?” He croaks out. He never liked when you pushed him away in your most vulnerable moments. He knows you mean well but he detests being in the unknown. You let out a small hum. He had learned over the years that two hums were yes and one was no. It was a very asbured way to communicate but it did come in handy when you weren’t in the mood to talk. This was a way of telling him that you weren’t in the mood prevented Ford from asking an assault wave of questions.

𝄞  “Do you want me to stay here with you?” Two hums. Patting your waist, he shuffles to the other side of your bed and plops down right next to you, mindlessly staring off into the ceiling. His anxiety was still pounding through his body, his clammy hands and beating heart proved that but it quelled a little of it knowing that you wanted him beside you. That you found comfort in his presence. He’d hope you did, he didn’t raise you all these years just for you to hate him. Wait, you don’t hate him, right? You could never hate him. He’s your dad! Can kids hate their own parents? He hated his dad so that can be a generational—

𝄞 “I think hear your overthinking from here, Dad.” Your voice comes out muffled from speaking through the blanket covering your face. He blinks, swallowing his doubt and looking over to your blanket covered face. “Sorry,” he lets out a dry laugh, scratching his cheek. “It wasn’t my intention to annoy you.” You pull the blanket down to the bridge of your nose, allowing Ford to see your irritated swollen eyes. “You’re not annoying me, Dad. You being anxious makes me anxious.” Ford cracked a smile. “Like father, like child.” That managed to pull a smile from you. “Unfortunately, I grow to be more like you everyday.” You say with a roll of your eyes. An overdramatic offended gasp leaves Ford. “And that’s a bad thing, how?”

𝄞 Playful banter was tossed between the two of you, each quick remark and quip allowed you to pick yourself up from the hole you were cowering in. After a while, you mustered up everything you had and told him about the break-up. Ford really couldn’t believe it at first. You had to repeat it to him twice much to your dismay but once he caught what you said, his face fell. “They were a waste of time anyways.” He said with a flick of his wrist. “Dad!” You weren’t expecting him to come off so strongly over hearing the news. “It’s true. They couldn’t even take my work seriously! How could someone laugh at my face when I tell them that aliens are real? Someone is clearly stuck in the stone ages.” 

𝄞 He was riding on the mindset of you need to forget this person and move on. Wallowing over losing them wasn’t ideal and you need to distract yourself with other things to prevent yourself from dwelling back on the thought of them. He was done with your ex, so should you. But he was real quick to find out that you weren't exactly like him in that aspect. He’d find you resting on the couch, eyes mindlessly staring at the TV as you’re cuddled up with blankets upon blankets. Tear marks were stained on your cheeks. Maybe you couldn’t distract yourself? Maybe he should be the one that distracts you? He’d scribble drawings of you and him on a piece of paper and fold it up into a cute little airplane and toss it over to you. You would unwrap the little gift with a smile, tears clouding your eyes. “Aw, Dad...” You held the piece of paper to your chest.

𝄞 Your favorite dinner would be cooked almost everyday, and if you have more than one, you bet he’d be coking it up in the kitchen, offering different favorite meals every night. Anything that would bring the smile on your face back. Adventures out into the woods, just like old times, was a thing he’d bring you along with. Even when you did protest and groan, whining how you would rather cry into your pillow, Ford stood his ground and made sure that you got ready for the adventure he had meticulously planned. The minute you step into the familiar lush woods, a sense of calmness falls over you and suddenly you’re a kid skipping around in the woods, in search of anything to show Ford so he could write about the new discovery in his book. Finding old discoveries lightened a smile on your face and unknowingly to you, Ford would draw you in his book like how he did when you were younger. Old habits die hard. 

𝄞 A lot of nights were spent you talking your feelings out to Ford. He was a good listener and had a few quips of advice to lend over, since he’s been in a similar but not so similar predicament. But he was more intent on listening to your concerns and anxieties. “I can’t believe I let them do that!” You plop your back down on your bed, anger spilling out of you in sharp words. He shook his head, a very sassy “mhm,” leaves him. “They didn’t deserve you anyways.” He moved his finger side to side. “Why are you acting like that?” You laugh, gingerly pushing him. “Don’t your friends act like that when something happens?” You beam from ear to ear, a loud laugh escaping you. “No! Where did you even get that from?” Ford shrugs. “I don’t know. I just thought they did?” He pretended to act clueless and with a big smile of his own, he watched you curl up in laughter over his ridiculous act. He could only think of how much he missed your smile and beautiful laugh. 

𝄞 Seeing your ex at the mall was a surprise both for him and them. Ford was scanning the shelves in search of something to get you when they approached them. “Sir, do you need any he…” Their words die in their throat when they register who they’re talking to. Ford hasn’t made the correlation yet, his attention so wrapped up in finding you the perfect gift. “Do you need any help?” They repeat, their voice cracking. Ford lazily looks over to them, dismissing them before looking back. Then, a look of recognition washes over him and he whips his head over to them. “You!” He loudly yelled. Customers in the store glance over to them. “Mr. Pines, keep it down.” They stressed out, teeth gritted together. “I will–.” An idea came to mind. “I’m sorry.” He rolled his shoulders back, untensing them. They look to the side, uncomfortable with the sudden change. “You’re sorry?” They repeat in disbelief. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be on my way.” A strained smile pulled to his face as he bid goodbye. Stepping out of the store, he sees you happily munching on a blueberry muffin you bought from the bakery. “Hi, Dad! You got anything?” He looks around you. “Do you have any food?” You place your muffin down on the table and grab the bag full of treats. “Yeah. I got some–” Ford dipped his hand in the bag and pulled out a cookie. His other hand digs into the inner pockets of his coat and pulls out a vial of pink sprinkles. “I knew I was going to use this at some point.” He mutters to himself, popping off the cork. “What are you doing?” You ask, watching as he sprinkled it onto the cookie.

𝄞 “You’ll see.” He winks at you before scooping it off the table and walking back into the store. Minutes later, he comes out with a big sinister smile on your face. “What did you do, Dad?” He pointed at the entrance of the store and it didn’t take long to see what he did. A flamingo human-like creature erupted into the store, squawking crazily as their head desperately swiped from side to side, looking for someone. Their black beady eyes landed on you and Ford. An angry squawk was heard from them, their chicken like legs slapping on the floor as they charged at you and Ford. “Run!’ Ford grabbed your wrist and darted away. In a quick swiping motion, you grabbed your bag full of treats before being whisked away. Loud bird noises were heard behind you and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Who is that chasing us?” Ford took a quick turn into another store, shuffling past people and hiding in a discreet corner with you. “That may be your ex angrily chirping at us.” You clapped your palm onto your mouth, an effort to muffle the laughter that left you. “Of course you’d do something like that!” The rest of the day was stealthily trying to escape the mall without being pecked to death by a very angry flamingo. When you did, you were laughing all the way to the car. “Do you always have that around for times like this?” Ford nods. “You’ll never know when you need to make someone a flamingo.” The automatic slide door pulls apart. “Pines!” The now fully turned flamingo human hybrid squawked out. “Get in the car, hurry!” 

Taglist: @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @lovexsage, @teddycricketdream, @theilluminatidragonqueen, @raventeen @cedarmoonzz, @katharine3000

dm or comment if you want to be added to my taglist :3

[mooooonnnzz]

kicking my feet hhhh

i got inspired by @animalxx 's drawings of y/n for a fanfic called world/insured by @mooooonnnzz so i decided to draw my own (featuring my own headcanons)

[mooooonnnzz]

This is kind of cringe but can you write a fic or make a headcanon list of Stan/Fords daughter getting a partner and how the dads would react? I love your work btw it's great!

2010 Toyota Corolla

Stan + Ford HC's of their teen getting a partner!

⟡ 1,5k words

⟡ gender neutral reader!

⟡ guys i think im going through a writers block can u tell

⟡ i was doing so good too omg

⟡ i couldnt figure out a title so i used a song i was listening to ths is a song i swear

⟡ cute lil simple hc of of the oldmen!!

⟡ if u wanna be added to my taglist dm or comment!

⟡ i might like take a two day break from writing to get it working again ngl

Stan

♡ Stan is extremely protective of you. He never shunned the idea away of you having a partner, but he never really encouraged it. He told you that it was “a waste of time,” that finding a partner at such a young age isn’t really necessary until you’re older. You didn’t bother protesting against him because at the time you hadn’t found your person yet. But when you did, you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t nervous to tell Stan about it. You knew he wasn’t going to be overly mad, but he was going to be slightly against it knowing his views on you having a partner.  “Dad?” You nervously fidgeted with your fingers. “Yes, pumpkin?” You inhale, mustering up all the courage to tell Stan. “I have something to tell you…” You draw out. Stan’s face lightly drops, already having a feeling of what this “something” is. Pausing his TV show, he loudly gulped. “I’m dating someone!” You blurt out. Stan stares at you for the longest time, the gears in his head turning as he processes what you said. “You? Dating?” He sits up from the couch. “I need a moment…” 

♡ After he recovers from the initial shock, he’s bombarding you with questions, such as; “Who are they?” “Do I know them?” “Are they smart?” And so on. You had no problem answering his questions and he had no issue giving you questions with how rapidly he shot them at you. Whenever you answered his questions, you could see the wrinkles in his forehead deepen the more you open up about your partner. This was definitely going to take some time for him to get used to. “Thank you for at least telling me, pumpkin.” He says after finishing up the whole Q&A.

♡ Meeting your partner was a must before he’d allow you to hang out by yourselves. When they came over to the shack, Stan had this whole gruff persona. He didn’t show much emotion and when he did, it was to show his distaste for what your partner said. “How long have you known [Name] for?” He interrogated, flashing a bright light to their face. “For a year now, sir.” They responded, shielding their eyes from the shining light. “Sir? I like that.” He mumbles to himself, scribbling +1 point on a notepad. When he turned over to you, he gave you a big thumbs up and a crooked smile. You couldn’t tell if it was going well. “Why do you want to date them?” Stan raised a brow, tapping the pencil on his chin. “Because I fell in love with them, sir.” Stan let out a loud “hmm,” and scribbled down, ‘very straight to the point’ on the note. After the interrogation was over, he ripped the note and gave it to your partner. “This is your score.” He said. “I guess you did good.” 

♡ He pulled your partner into a room and had a serious “talk” about something you didn’t have a clue about. But when they came out of the room with a horrified look on his face while Stan was proudly smiling to himself, you had a tiny idea of what he said. They turn around to Stan and Stan twiddles his fingers, his other hand sliding across this neck threateningly. “Dad!” You smacked his arm. 

♡ Even after Stan approved of your partner, he still wasn’t fully swayed by them. Whenever they’d be over, Stan would send death glares behind their back when they weren’t looking. But you would always catch them and when you did, Stan would sheepishly smile at you and make a heart gesture and point at your partner. He only ever came around them when Stan noticed them staring at one of the monster tourist attractions. “Whaddya lookin’ at, kid?” They began explaining how interested they were in the craft of making these grotesque monsters and Stan was more than happy to tell them the process. “Glue and staples come in handy, kid. I’ll tell you.” 

♡ It wasn’t after that, you’d find your partner and Stan creating all kinds of monsters while cackling and talking. Stan saw you walk in and his face brightened up. “Pumpkin, look at what they made! It is disgusting.” He pointed a glue covered hand to the little ugly statue of a half chipmunk and fish. “Oh? Isn’t this something…” You poke at the monstrosity. “Isn’t it amazing?” Stan laughs, impressed with your partner's handiwork. “Oh, yeah. This is amazing.” You plainly said. “I’m going to leave you two be…” Conversation erupted between the two while you walked away with a big smile to your face. 

♡ “I like that kid.” Stan says, a pleased look on his face. “Oh, I can tell, Dad.” You roll your eyes playfully. “Hey! They’re a great person. Perfect fit for my little [Name].” His fingers reached out to pinch your cheeks. “Oh, stop!” You push his hands away. “I’m just messin’ with ya, pumpkin.” Anything will and can make this old man laugh. “You might as well steal them from me.” Stan’s perked up. “Really?” He overplayed his excitement. You send him a dirty look while he barks out in laughter. “You’re gross.” 

Ford

♡ He never really thought of you ever dating anyone. Romantic partners didn’t exist to him considering how terribly alone he is. The only thing he ever said about you dating was; “Uh, yeah?” and carried on with his work and that was a good enough answer for you. Ford found out about your partner when he walked in on you and your partner cuddling on the couch. “[Name],” He clears his throat awkwardly, pointing at your partner. “Who is this?” You introduce your partner to Ford and he’s genuinely speechless. “Since when?” He whispers to you after pulling you aside in the kitchen. “Since like, last week?” Ford’s jaw falls open. “And you never thought to tell me?” You shrugged. “I asked you and you said you were okay with it.” You tell him. “When?!” 

♡ He would be so awkward around your significant other. “So…What is your name?” He’s tugging at his turtleneck, silently dying from how silent this whole exchange is. It takes him a lot of time to warm up to them, a lot of hangouts with the three of you together so he could be comfortable with them. He also uses this as an advantage and studies how they treat you and what they should improve on to make you happier. At the end of the hangouts, he’d slip in a note in their pocket. “If you want to stay with my child, you need to read the note.” He didn’t mean for it to sound menacing, but it was unfortunately received like that. “[Name], I think your dad hates me.” 

♡ Like Stan, there’s an interrogation but it’s not as serious as Stan’s. Ford would have called them over and told them to sit down. He begins asking questions and writing down their answers. “What are you hoping to do with [Name]?” Your partner blushed. “To marry them hopefully.” Ford nodded his head. ‘Disgustingly cheesy.’ He wrote it down in big words. “If I ever wanted to conduct experiments on you, would you allow me?” You jump in at the mention of that. “Okay! I think they’ve answered enough questions, Dad!” 

♡ He deep cleans the areas where you and your partner hugged, kissed and cuddled in. “Dad, what are you doing?” He has a mask and a plastic protective layer of armor around him. “I’m cleaning all the gross teenage bacteria!” You had to walk out after that.  “Is this something you’re seriously going to keep up?” Even though Ford is the smartest man alive, he has trouble understanding the true nature behind relationships. “Yes, Dad. This isn’t a one time thing and we’re over. It’s a relationship.” 

♡ Oddly enough, they bonded over their shared interest in researching the wonders of Gravity Falls. You’d often find them outside, Ford kneeled down to the ground, inspecting something while your partner has a notepad in hand, printing down whatever Ford is telling him to write. “Hey, what are you–” “SHHHH!” You looked at them with a confused look. “We need to be utter and total silence.” Ford held out a finger while he whispered notes for them to write. “Why though?” Ford pointed at a sleeping little fairy that was blanketed in a leaf. “Leave the fairy alone!” Ford opened his mouth to argue back, but his nose twitched and before he could react he sneezed, blowing the little fairy away. A silent tiny scream could be heard. “That was awesome, Mr. Pines!” Your partner held a hand out for Ford to high five but Ford was too sad to high five them back. 

♡ “Final opinions on them?” You ask. “They aren’t too bad. They could be a good research partner.” You smile. “Just don’t take them from me.” You say, nudging him gently. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Taglist: @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @lovexsage, @teddycricketdream, @theilluminatidragonqueen, @raventeen @cedarmoonzz, @katharine3000

[mooooonnnzz]

World/insured Y/N fan art, fan fiction by @mooooonnnzz they did a really great job, it's a platonic fan fic and it's super interesting and angst-y :DDD

First post lets goo :DDD

[mooooonnnzz]

im gonna be so honest, i'm having such a hard time coming up with ways to write far from the weight of the world. i apologize for anyone who's been waiting for it to come out. but i think i need to put it in the back for a little bit and let it stew for a couple days because i seriously cannot come up with ways to further the story on. i apologize again, im so sorry. it'll come out soon. i'm just really struggling with writers block as of rn. i'm so sorry :(!

[mooooonnnzz]

YOUR WRITING IS SUPERB MY GOD!!! I've been binge reading all your Gravity Falls works and they're all capable of just hitting you where it hurts and making you feel stuff, it's great. Cannot wait to read Far From the Weight of the World I know it's gonna wreck me.

i keep saying that i’m flattered BUT I MEAN IT, like it seriously brightens my mood when i get compliments! and i hope you enjoy far from the weight of the world when i publish it 💗

[mooooonnnzz]

Is the fic "Far from the weight of the world" gonna be posted today? :]

YES! i promise! ive been busy today with work n stuff but once i get home i’ll finish it. it would’ve come out yesterday but i had so many ideas and it just kept clashing with what i was writing so i had to restart. but it will come out today around 9pm est to 10pm? somewhere around there 💗

[mooooonnnzz]

heeey! I just needed to say i absolutely LOVE the world/insure gravity falls fan for and I just needed to ask is it aloud to make fan art off of this fic and post it? With tagging you of course, sorry I just love this fic so much and I have some doodle ideas for it, love your stuff, byeee :DDD ❤❤✨✨❤❤

OMG YES OF COURSEE!! you can make fanart!! 💗💗💗 im so excited to see it once its finished! <3

[mooooonnnzz]

haiiii i’m the anon who sent the ask about world/insure part two. i’m so obsessed with this concept now and the ending was adorable :,) you mentioned possibly doing headcannons about how reader adjusts and i would love to see if you’re interested in writing it 0__0 i adore ur writing !! hope you’re doing well <3

HIII! i'm doing well, i hope you're doing well :D and for the world/insured hc's i'll get around to it! someone already gave me some ideas that i will gladly be using hehe big props to them because they helped me outline what i wanted to write for the hc! and as for when it's coming out, maybe in a few days or a week from now? i'm currently writing a dad fic for stanley and planning to write a stanford dad fic after, so once i publish those i'll get a head start in fully fleshing out the hcs for world/insured

i didnt mean to ramble oops i just love talking to u guys and sharing my plans woops and i'm glad you and many others enjoyed the part 2 it really means the world to me <3

[mooooonnnzz]

hiii i LOVED ur stanford dad fics and I was wondering if u were gonna write anymore?

oh yes def when i have the time i will write more standford dad fics cuz i just LOVE writing him as a dad

i just need to find the time really! and if you have an idea you want me to write, i'd me more than happy to write it for you :3

[mooooonnnzz]

i would LOVEEE an older sibling reader x mable and dipper (platonic obv). maybe like 3 or 4 years older than them ? just reader trying to wrangle them and make sure they don’t get killed 😭 gender neutral reader if possible pls !! love your writing !! <3

By Your Side

Dipper Pines x Sibling!Reader/Mable Pines x Sibling!Reader

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ 3,2k words

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ my FIRST dipper and mable sibling fic/request GAHH i had sm fun writing this i love these two sm

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ reader is gender neutral + is constantly stressed 24/7

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ requests are open!

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ if you wanna be added to my taglist, comment or dm me!

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ i originally wasn't gonna post 2nite since i was working on another fic n i knew i wasnt gonna finish in time so i brewed this up quickly! eenjoooy :p

 ♫ Being Mable’s and Dipper’s older sibling comes with its perks, alongside some faults. Since you’re the oldest, you’re constantly looking out for danger they might accidentally fall in. Especially in Gravity Falls. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t partially relieved that you were leaving just because you didn’t need to fret over the thought of losing your siblings. But during your stay in Gravity Falls was a game of chase. You’re trailing after them like a hawk and they keep running away, adventure and mystery in their minds while you’re freaking out of the idea of a possible broken bone. Speeding through the woods in a golf cart, you’re following Mabel’s cries that echo throughout the woods. “This is insane.” You tell yourself, seeing a dip in the road you were following. “Dipper, hold onto something!” You warn, gripping onto the wheel as you dive down into the cave. The wheels bump and smash into rocks, rattling the golf cart as you drive through gravel and comically large stones. You see Mable trying to shake off the gnomes that were climbing up her body in an effort to push her down to the ground and tie her down. “My boyfriend turned out to be a bunch of gnomes!” She kicks on right in the stomach. He rolls up into the and lands to the ground, leaning on a tree he vomits rainbows on the floor. “Gnomes? Huh, I was way off…” Dipper mutters to himself, scanning through his journal. 

♫ Your eyes read the page once he lands on the gnome page. “Weakness, UNKNOWN?” Your head bolts up to see Mable already tied to the floor, some gnomes standing on top of her while others are surrounding her. You approach the tiny gnome and confront him. He chortles awkwardly. “This is all just one big misunderstanding! She’s just marrying all one thousand of us and becoming our gnome queen for all of eternity.” He tells you cooly, as if this was something that normally happened here. “Isn’t that right, honey?” He looks over to Mable. “You guys are buttfaces!” A gnome next to her slapped her mouth shut. “Give us back our sister now, or else!” Dipper threatens with a shovel. The gnome goes on this whole rant on how he’s a powerful race and Dipper scoops him up with the shovel and throws him off to the side. Taking your chance, you kick all the gnomes away from Mable and rip the bindings off of her. Grabbing her hand, you pull her into the golf cart. “Seatbelt.” Dipper says as he buckles himself, looking at you and Mable’s seat belt to see if you were wearing them. You backed out of the cave and started speeding out of the woods. 

 ♫ That soon sped to be a rapid chase of cat and mouse. The gnomes binded themselves together and formed a huge gnome that was now chasing you through the forest. A few gnomes flew out of their form and onto Dipper and Mable. Mable was fortunate enough to shake hers off, but Dipper was struggling with his. “Don’t worry, I got you Dipper!” She began throwing mean punches at the gnome and Dipper. The gnome flew off Dipper’s face, taking his hat with him. You glance over to see Dipper’s face all bruised up. “Dipper! Your face.” You screech, sharply turning. Mable teeters out of the car and you grab her quickly, pulling her in. “Dipper’s face is okay. Nothing like a little glitter won’t fix it!” Reaching into her pockets, she throws a puff of glitter. Some glitter gets into your eyes, obstructing your view. “Mable!” Dipper reaches for the wheel and begins steering the cart while you try ridding your eyes of the glitter. The gnomes rip a tree from the ground and launch it forward, it lands right in front of you, a few inches away. “Look out!” Mable warns. “Look out for what?” Your eyelids shakily open and Dipper turns the cart quickly, causing it to spin out of control and fall on its side. You crawl out of the cart and immediately cover Dipper and Mable. The gnome goes on a rant about how he's going to take Mable and force her to marry him. With convincing from Mable, you allow her to take the lead. Her smart thinking saved you and Dipper from the evil gnomes and you hugged it out which led to you scolding them, but in the end you made it out safe with the twins perfectly fine. Although, a tad bit of bruising from Dipper.  

♫ “You shouldn’t worry so much about the twins, kid.” Stan offers a light pat to your shoulder, sipping his pitt cola. “I mean I have to, Grunkle Stan. Just yesterday Mable almost became queen to these gnomes! Like, unwillingly. And…!” You’re gesturing wildly as you speak, being extremely passionate about how they stupidly manage to find themselves in danger's palm every single time. Once you finish your wild rant, Grunkle Stan is staring at you with a troubled expression. “Are you sure you’re alright, kid?” His grip on your shoulder tightens and you realize how utterly ridiculous you sound explaining yesterday’s events to some senile old man who only believes what is shown to him on TV. You slide a hand down your face, a stressed out groan expelling from your throat. “Is this how Dipper feels when he tries to tell you his stupid scary experiences in the woods?” You watch as Grunkle Stan smiles, laughing heartily at what you said. “It runs in the family.” He said with a laugh, giving your shoulder a rough shake before walking off into the gift shop. 

♫ Legend of the Gobblewonker seriously stressed you out. You were practically on your knees, begging to join Stan on his shabby boat rather than Soos “yacht” to catch a monster that doesn’t actually exist. Dipper was way too passionate about getting the photos he needed to win the prize money and shove it in everyone’s face that there are weird things going on here. And Mable just wanted her stupid human sized hamster ball. “We can go Gobblewanker hunting on Stan’s boat!” You try to reason as they both clicked their life vests on. “It’s actually Gobblewonker, [Name].” Dipper corrected you, stuffing a camera under his hat. “I like Gobblewanker better.” Mable laughs, throwing a bag of cameras over her shoulder. “What? So you guys are going to leave?” Dipper and Mable hop into Soos’s boat, and before they speed off, Soos yells; “Don’t worry, dude! I’ll keep them safe!” You gripped your hair in anger. “Guess it’s just you and me, kid.” Stan hunkered two fishing rods on his shoulder and stepped into his boat. He set everything up and looked at you with an expectant look. “Did they really abandon me like that?” You were still in shock. Your brain replaying the moment where Dipper and Mable were cheering in the back as Soos sailed off into the unknown. “You get used to it.” He shrugs. 

♫ Spending half the day fishing with Grunkle Stan wasn’t too bad. He mostly distracted you for the most part, keeping you entertained with jokes and outrageous stories from the past. But when silence came and Grunkle Stan wasn’t talking your ear off, your mind wandered to all the scenarios that could be happening to Dipper and Mable while you’re sitting on a boat, surprisingly enjoying your time with your Grunkle Stan. “Grunkle Stan?” Your voice wavers with anxiety. “Yes?” He grunt frustratingly when a fish swims past his bait. “Could you be so nice to your poor old Grunkle and try reeling in a fish for me?” His head jerks to your discarded fishing rod that was propped up on the boat. “Yeah, sure?” You grab a fishing rod, attach the bait and cast your reel. “Back to what I was saying—“ “ —How’s school going for ya?” He shoots you a questioning look before looking back to where his bait was casted. “Uh,” Did he cut you off on purpose? “School is great.” You scramble for words to say. “It’s my senior year!” You tell him rather enthusiastically. “Senior year, really? I coulda sworn you were in fifth grade.” You gently nudge his arm with your shoulder. “Your grandpa's brain is failing you.” You chuckle, feeling something tug on your fishing rod. You gasp as it pulls you forward. “Grunkle Stan, what do I do?!” Stan forgets all about his fishing rod and tells you to reel it in and he shows you a quick reenacting montage of how you’re supposed to do it. Following exactly what he says, you pull out a really big fish. “What fish is that?” You pant out. You put all your strength and energy into getting that fish and it seems like it paid off. He tells you the type before complimenting you with a; “Good catch, kid!” Stan unhooks the fish from the rod and marvels at the large fish. 

♫ Soos comes back with Dipper and Mable but their big boat is now just torn apart and very slowly sinking. You had to hold back a scream because there was no way that this is the condition Soos brings them back in. Dipper and Mable reconcile with Stan and before jumping in, they look at you. Mable bottom lip trembles and her eyes fill up with tears. Dipper has his head hung low, his cap covering his eyes and he’s sadly rubbing his hands together, almost akin to a fly…Their whole weird act made you forget the reason why you were upset in the first place. “What is this, what are you guys doing?” You look at Stan who’s as lost as you are. “We’re sorry, [Name]!” Mable lunges off the boat and into your arms, very dramatically and hugs your stomach tightly. “Sorry for what?” You laughed out, watching Dipper follow in suit. “For leaving you and Grunkle Stan behind.” He said, hugging your side and squishing his cheek into your shoulder. “Oh! I wasn’t expecting you goblins to actually apologize.” You ruffle Mable’s hair, gaining a peeved “Hey!” from her but she makes no effort to swat your hand away. “Dipper told me not to tell you but,” She rose up and stood on the seat of the boat, whispering in your ear how Dipper was on the brink of tears earlier but he didn’t want you to know that because it’ll ruin his tough man bravado. 

♫ A laugh escapes you and Dipper is staring at you knowingly, his cheeks flushed red. “A stick went in my eye! That’s why I was crying!” He defended, his voice all squeaky from embarrassment. “Not you using Grunkle Stan’s excuse.” Stan moved from his spot from the mention of him. “Hey, don’t tell them that now.” He crosses his hands over his chest. “It’s not an excuse! I don’t cry and when I do, I have something in my eye.” The rest of the day was you bonding with everyone, fishing and taking photos with the last camera that survived their adventure. And speaking of their adventure, you properly scolded them for leaving you to the dust without any supervision. Soos interjected and said that he was good at taking care of them himself, and you weren’t going to lie, he did keep them in one piece, but you don’t like how he encourages their wild behavior. You soon realized that Stan was making a huge effort to make sure you weren’t constantly thinking about the twins, you had an inkling in your gut and it was nice to be proved right. Stan doesn't really tell you and the twins how much he cares and loves you but he sure tells you by his actions. The little self made hats he made for the fishing trip spoke the truth in your words. 

♫ “[Name]! We’re going to a haunted convenience store with Wendy and her friends, just wanted to tell you! Okay, byyeee!” Mable scampered off into the hallway, leaving you in your bed stunned for a few minutes. Shaking your head, you sprung up from your bed and chased after Mable. You caught her wrist before she got the chance to leap outside and leave. “You’re what?” You need her to repeat what she said moments prior just so you can think about your next course of actions. “We’re going to a haunted convenience store.” She said so casually you thought you were mishearing the word haunted in her sentence. “Haunted convenience store?” You repeat slowly. “Yeah! You wanna come with?” Mable grins so widely at the thought of you tagging along. “Why don’t you and Dipper stay home and let the teens do their own things?” You suggest with a strained smile. It’s always something with these two… Mable frowned. “You don’t want to spend time with us?” She’s doing her sad puppy eyes and unluckily for you, her big sad eyes tug at your heartstrings a little too much for your liking. “We can do something else together, Mable.” You tell her in hopes that’ll convince her and change her mind but her display of utter dramatics doesn’t falter. She’s still looking at you with those eyes and that little pout to her lip. Screwing your eyes shut, you let out a defeated sigh. “Is there room for one more?” You dryly said. Mable cheers from the top of her lungs and pulls you along to where one of Wendy’s friends' van is parked.

♫  “Guys! Guys!” Mable jumped up and down. “Can [Name] join us?” She’s already pulling you into the backseat with Dipper who had his arms crossed around his chest moodily. “Of course!” Wendy smiled. “We love having you tag with, [Name].” Tambry said it with little no emotion that you doubted the validity of her words. “[Name], what are you doing here?” Dipper whispered, his tone having a bit of agitation to it. “I’m here because Mable told me you guys were going to a haunted convenience store.” You say as you buckle your seatbelt. “Mable!” Dipper threw his arms out in exasperation. “What? They had to know.” Mable stated as if it was obvious. “And thank you for telling me, Mable. Because if it wasn’t for you, someone would be doing things he shouldn’t be doing.” You send a look over to Dipper who clicked his tongue at you in annoyance. “Dipper is acting like this because he’s embarrassed you’re here with his GIRLFRI–” Dipper’s arm reaches over you and pops Mable in the mouth. “Girlfriend?” You pinch your brows in confusion. “Dipper has a girlfriend?” You give Mable a curious look. “No, not yet at least.” She says slyly as Dipper retracts his hand from Mable’s mouth in disgust. She definitely licked his palm. “Who?” Mable slaps her hands on the side of your face and directs it to where Wendy was sitting. You gasp, looking over to Dipper whose cheeks are flushed with a pink color. “No!” You dramatically yelled. “Do you guys have to be so loud!” Dipper complained, grabbing the sides of his hat and tugging it down to cover his red face. “You do know she’s older than you, Dipper?” You mention. Dipper grumbled, choosing to ignore what you said. 

♫ Arriving at the convenient store, Dipper decides to show off to Wendy how cool he can actually be and unlocked the door from the inside. Entering the store, you carefully smacked Dipper in the head. He is trying so hard to appeal to her and it’s really embarrassing to watch. That was really the whole vibe the entire time you were there, you were making sure Mable wasn’t doing anything stupid and you were just watching Dipper try super hard for Wendy’s friends to like them. “Oh my gosh, smile dip!” Mable picked up a pack and held it up in the air. “I thought this stuff was banned in america!” She sat down on the floor, smiling gleefully at the pack of candy. “Maybe it was for a good reason?” Dipper got thrown a balloon full of cheese to the face. He laughed, running over to where the fight was happening to join in. You were going to ask if Mable was actually going to eat candy that has been sitting in this convenience store for who knows how long, but this is mable you’re talking about, of course she’d eat it. Ripping open the packet, she grabbed the candy stick and dipped it in the candied powder. She eyed the powdery stick for a second. In a quick swoosh, she dumped all the dip into her mouth. “Don’t eat too much of these, Mable.” You tell her. “I won’t!” Clouds of glitter poofed out of her mouth when she spoke. You couldn’t quite pinpoint where everything went wrong, but always in this town, something went wrong which led to a ball of events unraveling. Mable was floating up in the air, being used as a vessel from one of the ghosts that possessed the store that locked you and everyone else inside. “Hey, ghost!” Dipper pointed at the ghost. “Yes?” The ghost eerily turned over to Dipper. “I’ve got something to tell you.” The ghost lifted Dipper from the floor. “I’m not a teenager!” You turn over to Wendy. “Did he tell you that he was a teenager?” Wendy let out a shy laugh. “Yeah, he told me that Mable and him were thirteen. Technically teenagers.” You slapped a hand on your forehead, laughing with Wendy. “He’s ridiculous.” 

♫ After recovering from your laughter, you turned your attention back to Dipper who adorned a horrendously cute lamb costume. Recognition washes over you at seeing getting into the lamby lamby dance position. “When Dipper was younger, he used to do this cute dance all the time in his little lamb costume he was obsessed with.” Wendy awe’s. Dipper dances and sings the lamby lamby dance. The ghosts, satisfied with Dipper’s performance, lift his curse. After grouping up, Wendy told a quick rundown of what happened while everyone was out, excluding the part where he had to sing in a lamb costume. Dipper was praised for being brave while on the way out to the car. “How’s your stomach feeling?” You look over your shoulder to see Mable who was lying limp on your back. “It huuurtsss…” She burped sparks of glitter. “Woah!” You laughed. “This is the last time I’m ever going to eat sweet stuff ever again…” You knew she was going to lay off the candy for like two days before rummaging in the fridge for icy pops. Taking Mable off your back, you placed her on the chair and buckled her seatbelt. She flopped against the window, groaning as she held her stomach. Dipper came climbing in a moment after, a pleased smile on his face. “What’s got you looking so happy with yourself?” Dipper’s smile grew. “Wendy wants to hang out with me!” He vibrated with excitement. “You really think you have a chance with her?” Dipper’s smile never wavered, too caught up in the high knowing his crush invited him to more potential hangouts. “Shh, no more talking.” Mable lazily slapped your arm. “You guys talking makes my stomach hurt.” 

Taglist: @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @lovexsage, @teddycricketdream, @theilluminatidragonqueen, @raventeen@cedarmoonzz

[mooooonnnzz]

"Far from the weight of the world" fic coming when?

(No rush, just wondering)

today most likely! i was just so caught up in writing world/insured that i havent touched that fic since today OOPS but im writing it rn!! 1k words in :3