#-alone without stan being worried the whole time that it means ford hates him' and 'we still spend x amount of time working on the boat and

[godsfavoritescientist]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

So you sail away in a boat together.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

[totallysharkycomplete]

Waiting For You Part Three (Ford Pines x Reader) Her Family Too

“Morning,” Stanley grumbles as he enters the kitchen.

She told him he could stay the night at the cabin, but she wanted him gone in the morning. She doesn't reply, but grips the counter with white knuckles.

“Listen, I know you said you wanted me gone-”

“Correct,” she cuts him off, refusing to look at him.

“But listen,” he rubs the back of his neck. “I want to help, this is all my fault and I want to help you get him back.”

Again she is silent. Stan sighs and turns away from her, she looks at him walking away before noting the burn from yesterday peeking out from his tank top. She grabs his forearms to stop him. “Sit down,” she instructs before going to get the first aid kit. Although the first encounter with Stan made her lose her fiance, he was Ford’s family, which meant he was her family too, and family looks after each other.

He obeys and sits at the table. He watches as she sets the kit on the table for digging around for a few things. She moves behind him and applies something to his shoulder that burns. He hisses and slightly pulls away before settling back down. She knew it would burn but didn’t warn him.

“This is going to scar,” she informs him.

“It’ll be a good reminder to be less of a jerk,” he jokes, causing her to smile.

She continues to clean the burn, apply an ointment and a bandage. “You can stay until that heals. Just so I can make sure it doesn't get infected.”

“Uh, right.”

----------- The next few days are spent awkwardly shuffling around each other as she continues to take care of Ford’s experiments, while looking around the house for his journals. She didn't think he would hide them there but it was as good a place to start looking as any. The majority of the day she spends in the basement tinkering away at the portal.

Stan makes his way down there one day to find her wiping away tears as she rearranged some wires. Her arm was deep in a metal compartment and she was on her knees.

“I don’t know much about science, but aren’t you not supposed to mix water and electricity.”

She scowls at him having not noticed him come in, then turns away to dry the rest of her tears. “What do you want?”

“Like I said, I want to help, just tell me what to do.” He walks to stand in front of her but she doesn’t look at him. “I know I messed up, but can’t you at least look at me?”

“No!” She snaps. “You look so much like him!” A sob escapes her. “I hate it,” she cries. “I hate it so much! I hate you!”

Stan can feel the heavy weight of guilt in his chest increase. Still, he kneels down to embrasse her. “I know kid, I hate me too.”

To his surprise she holds him back while she cries. After a few minutes her sobs calm down and she pulls away. Her cheeks are tear streaked and eyes red and puffy. She looks up at him before looking away.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t mean that. I don’t know you enough to hate you.”

Stan let out a chuckle.

“Also, I don’t think I’m being fair, I lost my fiance, but you lost your twin brother too. How are you?” She looks at him again, sincerity in her eyes.

Stan is taken aback. How could she be so caring about him when he just ruined her life? He swallows, feeling a lump start to build in the back of his throat. “Me? Just peachy.” He lies.

She stands up and moves back to what she was working on. “You’re a bad liar, just like Ford.” ----------- She agrees to let Stan stay with her indefinitely. Deciding she can’t kick her family out when he had nowhere to go. One day a few months in, he approached her with an idea to turn the cabin into a tourist attraction.

“A shack of mystery, The Mystery Shack!” He grins.

“No, definitely not. Absolutely not.” She argues.

Stan sighs. “Listen, you told me yourself the grant money had run out. Unless you want to get a job at that greasy diner, I’d like to hear what else you plan to do for money.”

She turns away from her work with a groan of annoyance. “I… I don’t know. That feels almost disrespectful to all of Ford’s work. Showing it off like some cheap roadside attraction.”

“We don’t have to use his work, sweetheart.” He coos, she makes an almost disgusted face at the nickname. “I’ll make up all new attractions, fake of course. Wouldn’t want the rubes of this town getting freaked out or nothing.”

Reluctantly she agrees. She moves the rest of Ford’s experiments to their room or the basement. Since Ford was gone their room seemed too big to be in all by herself. She moved into a smaller room across the hall, and with Stans help they sealed up his room until they could get him back.

It wasn’t long until Stan was getting customers. At least a few everyday. She had told him she wanted nothing to do with it though and spent her time in the basement.

A few months of this routine had passed, Stan swindling the townsfolk and anyone stupid enough to come in. He glued different animals together, bought wax figures, anything to get people in, and she couldn’t really complain. He was taking care of all the bills as she tried to fix the portal.

One night Stan heats up some soup and claims to have made dinner. The atmosphere while they eat is more tense than normal. Finally Stan decided to ask if he did something stupid and not notice.

She stares at the soup without looking up. “Today marks half a year, Stan.”

“Oh,” now it's his turn to stare at his soup. “I hadn’t realised.”

“Unless we can find the other two journals this is hopeless,” she cradles her head in her hands.

“As long as we don’t give up, it’s not hopeless.” Stan disagrees.

Later that night she sits in her new room on the edge of her bed. She looks down at her hand, and thinks about how empty it is. How empty she feels. How she would give anything to feel Ford’s hand in hers right now. How she’d give anything to not feel so alone. Her body shakes as she begins to sob. She lets herself have a real good cry for the first time in half a year.

Stan could hear her cries. He was standing outside her door which was cracked open. He was unsure whether to let her cry it out or if he should intervene and stop her from feeling so sad.

After letting her cry for a few minutes he walked into her room without knocking and sat beside her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and held her hand. She leaned her head onto his chest.

“When is this feeling going to stop? I don’t want to be sad anymore, Stan.”

“I don’t know kid,” was all he could say. Anything more and he would cry as well.

Eventually her cries died down and she began falling asleep against him. He tried to lay her down on the bed but she grabbed onto him.

“Please stay, I don’t want to be alone.” she sniffed.

He didn’t argue and layed down in bed next to her, a foot away. She held his hand as she fell asleep.

The year anniversary of Ford’s disappearance Stan cried for the first time. He thought he was alone as he stood in front of the broken portal.

“A whole year, huh, Sixer? Time flies. Don’t worry, I’m taking care of the kid for ya’. We’ll have you back in no time, we…” Stan lets out a sob and places his hand on the portal. He allows himself to cry. Even when he feels arms wrap him in a hug from behind he continues to cry.

She presses her forehead to his back and holds him while he cries. When he begins to calm down she lets go and wordlessly excuses herself from the room, knowing he wouldn’t want to talk about it. ---------- Three years pass and still not much has changed, except Stan has roped her into working in the gift shop on busy days. He doesn’t like how much time she spent in the basement, and she had to admit she liked the experience of talking to people who were traveling. Most had a fun atmosphere about them.

However, on day a familiar face comes in. Stan was already on a tour when the door chimes. “Welcome to the Mystery Shack, tours are every half hours and…” She stops when her mind registers who it is. “Fids!” She shouts and runs around the counter to give him a hug.

He chuckles. “Good ta’ see you to, friend.”

“What brings you here?” She lets go of him and takes a step back.

“I kept hearing about this ‘Mystery Shack’ and had to find out if it was really this old cabin.” He tells her.

She bashfully looked at the ground. “The grant money ran out. Had to make money somehow.” She confides in him.

“I just never thought this would be Ford’s style.” He confesses, and watches her face fall into a frown.

“Fids, I…” She thought hard about how to tell him. “You were right about that portal being no good. I….” She sighs. “There's so much I need to tell you.”

“How ‘bout we have dinner and catch up sometime then?” He smiles, not knowing that Ford wasn’t included in the ‘we’.

She offers him a small smile. “That'd be nice.”

They agree on a date and time for her to come over to his place, and he goes to leave when Stan ushers a crowd of tourists into the gift shop. He makes his way over to you.

Your face is panicked and you look from him to Fids. Stan leans against the counted and mouths to you, “What a bunch of rubes.” He then turns to Fids and offers him his hand to shake. “Mister Mystery at your service.”

Now Fids looks at Stan’s hand, then to her, back to Stan. She sighs and places a hand over Stan’s, pushing it down. “Stan, this was mine and Ford’s colleague, Fiddleford.”

Stan’s eager grin falls from his face. “Oh,” he clears his throat. “Well I got a tour to give.” He excuses himself.

Fids gives her another look. “I’ll explain everything.”

A few nights later she arrives at Fiddleford’s house. He’s made a simple pasta dinner and they enjoy some small talk as they talk about their time in Gravity Falls. When they’re done they go and sit on his couch.

“I see Ford finally popped the big question.” Fids smiles as he looks at the ring on her finger.

She fidgets at it with her thumb. “He did, and we were on a spaceship no less.”

“No kiddin’?” He ignores the spaceship part as much as he can. “So what’s been going on in that cabin in the woods?” He finally asks.

She lets out a heavy sigh. “So it all started around the time you left.” She begins, and explains everything that happened, Ford falling into the portal, Stan taking care of you and the cabin.

“I’m so sorry,” Fids lays his hand on her knee. “I knew no good would come of that portal,” he said almost under his breath.

“If only we had listened to you sooner. Maybe all of this could have been avoided.” She sighs and leans her head against his shoulder, his hand not on her knee wraps around her shoulder and rubs circles with his thumb.

She can’t help but feel so welcome to the touch. It had been so long since a man had touched her. She stopped her thoughts there. Fids is just being kind, don't be a pervert, she scolded herself in her mind.

Her thoughts quickly changed, however, when he softly said her name. She tilted her head to look up at him, and his hand from her knee moved to hold her chin. He looked in her eyes for any sign she wanted to pull away, but she didn’t. Instead she leaned up to hesitantly kiss him.

He kissed her back, more sure of himself than she was. After some kissing he slowly layed her back on the couch.

“Is this too much? If ya’ want I’ll stop just say the word.” He checks.

“Fids, it’s been so long since I’ve been touched. Please.” She almost whimpers, and he complies.

They’re time together is quick and imperfect, but leaves her feeling satisfied. Almost as soon as they are done she moves to put her clothes on.

“Leaving already?” He smirks.

“Fids, I…” She's unsure how to explain what that was. A moment of need and lust with no feelings?

“I’m just teasing, darling. Don’t have to mean nothing if ya’ don’t want it to.” He stands to dress as well, then walks her to the door. “Doors open anytime ya’ need me.”

She nods in understanding before scurrying off to Stan’s car she had borrowed. When she returns home her hair is out of place, shirt not tucked in correctly, and of course Stan is up late enough to comment.

“How was your date?” He jokes before he actually looks at her. He gives her a quick once over before grinning ear to ear. “You got laid? Nice!” He raises his hand for a high five but she just scowls at him.

She and Fiddleford see each other a few more times before calling it off. She can tell too much of his heart is in it and she doesn’t want to lead him on. He understands and they go their separate ways. It’s not long before she hears a rumor he’s got a steady girlfriend, and not long after that that he’s married with a kid.

The next time she sees him he’s not himself. He’s panicked and his country accent is more prominent than normal. He explains how he’s been using his memory eraser on himself, how all the things in Gravity Falls is too much for him. She tried to get him to promise to stop but he refuses. They argue and he raises his voice. She leaves, not to see Fiddleford for almost thirty year. ----------- She absolutely opposed the idea. “So let me get this straight,” she’s pinching the bridge of her nose, a habit she definitely picked up from Ford. “You want to fake your death?” She watches as Stan nods. “And pretend to be Ford?” He nods again. She slams her hands down on the table. “For what reason on Earth would you want to do that?”

“Listen, I’ve made some mistakes in my life,” he pauses as the look she gives him pretty much says she knows. “So I may have multiple warrants out for my arrest. If I’m gonna keep running the shack. It needs to be like Ford Pines and not Staley Pines!” He insists.

She sighs knowing he’s a little right. Sitting down at the kitchen table she looks up at him. “What about your mother, Stan?”

He pauses confused. “What about her?”

She scowls at him. “What do you mean ‘what about my mother’? Stanley Pines she's going to be heart broken. Not only has she not heard from you in almost ten years, the next thing she's going to hear about you is that you’re dead?” She pauses and thinks for a moment. “Well actually…”

“Well actually what?” Stan grunts.

“The last thing she heard about you was that you had joined Ford and I for Thanksgiving last year.” She looks up in thought. “At least that’s what my letter said.”

“You’ve been writing to my mother?” Stan’s face is distraught.

“Oh course I have! Ford never stopped working long enough to call her, so I started writing to her.” She looks annoyed at Stan.

“Did you say anything about…” He moves his hands awkwardly.

“Did I tell her Ford fell into a portal to another dimension and has been missing for almost five years? Yeah, Stan, I told her that.” She mocks. “Oh course I didn’t! To your parents and brother’s knowledge, Ford is still hard at work here in Gravity Falls with his loving girlfriend!”

Stan looks at hurt like a kicked puppy and she sighs, before saying she’d be right back. When she returns she has a handful of hand written papers. “These,” she sets them on the table, “are all from your mother.”

Stan looks over at them as she spreads them out. “I, listen Stan.” She gently touches his shoulder. “I know you haven't talked since you were kicked out, but your mother still loves you. Maybe… I don’t know, write her a letter before you go through with your choice.” And with that she leaves the room.

Stan waits a moment then sits down at the table. He reaches for the letter on top and begins to read.

Dearie, Thank you so much for taking the time to write. I know how busy Ford is. I love the picture you sent of you and Ford at the waterfall, we have it hanging in the living room. When are you two getting married? I can only wait so long for grandkids!

I was surprised to hear Stanley joined you for Thanksgiving, I didn’t even know he and Ford were talking again. Makes my heart glad to hear two brothers can make up. How did he look? Was he taking care of himself? I love that boy to death but he never did a good job taking care of himself. He needs a good woman like you in his life!

Stan sets down the letter, unable to read on through the tears that are clouding his vision. He wipes some away before deciding on what to do. After finding a pen and paper he sits back down to scrawl out his own message.

Hey Ma, Long time no talk. Listen, this message will be short. I know you haven’t heard from me in awhile I just wanted to say hey. Hope you and the old man are well, Shermie too.

I’ve been having the time of my life traveling the country. I even visited sixer and met the lovely lady in his life, boy what a catch, huh? Anyways I’ve got to get going. Adventure awaits and all that.

Love you, Stanley Pines ---------- A few days later she's sitting in the cabin kitchen to read the paper, she unfolds it to read STAN PINES DEAD across the front of it and sighs. She looks up at him over the paper and he’s staring out the window.

She sets the page of the newspaper aside. “Who’s going to tell your family?”

Stan eventually sits down at the phone and dials a number. His voice isn’t his as he pretends to be his brother. “Hello, mother. Yes, we’re doing just fine thank you for asking. Listen, I, uh, I have some bad news.”

She watches as he talks to his mother. Tears form in her eyes at the sounds of Ford’s voice. She wondered how he could sound so perfectly like him. Stan said a few more things before motioning her over.

“Ma want to talk to you.” Stan says.

She wipes a tear away and takes the phone. “Mrs.Pines, I’m so sorry. Yes, I know.” Stan listens to one side of the conversation. “Yes, ma, of course he knew you loved him.” She looks at Stan with tears in her eyes. “Of course he loved you too.”

Stan turned from her to hide his tears.

At his funeral she made an excuse, saying Ford was too heartbroken to come, as Stan watched from a distance away, as his family buried an empty casket in the ground. On the drive home she lay her head in Stanley’s lap, red eyes from crying with his mother.

They were silent for hours until she spoke. “Stan?”

He grunts in response.

“Do you think….” she doesn’t finish her thought.

“Don’t say it.” Stan frowns.

“Do you think Ford is dead?” She chokes out.

Stan pulls the car over to a screeching halt. She’s startled and sits up.

“Don’t,” he whispered before raising his voice. “Don’t you ever think like that!”

Stan stops from yelling more when he looks at her. Her shoulders are hunched over and her head is down, her hands held over her chest. Stan could compare her to a lost kitten.

He groans. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you, but we can’t afford to think like that. Ford’s alive I can feel it. If anything happened to him, I’d know.”

She nods, still clearly shaken by his sudden agner. He sighs and motions her closer, she complies and he pulls her into a hug. “I’m sorry I yelled.”

“It’s okay,” she murmurs into his shoulder.

One morning a few months later the shacks received a call that Mr.Pines had passed. She’s there to comfort him, and a few years later he gets the same call about his mother, she’s still there by his side.

---------- On the thirteenth year anniversary of Ford’s disappearance, as she still called it, Stan found her sitting in front of the portal reading his journal. He sighed and sat down next to her.

“This is no way to spend a Friday night, kid.” He says.

She smiles, but it isn't sad. “It’s a fine way to spend it for me.”

“You seem awfully cheery for… today.” Stan comments.

She sighs, almost sounding content. “It’s just, the more time goes by the more sure I am we’ll get him back.”

He just stares at her. “Well I’m glad you feel that way. But for me, tonight I’m thinking about pitt cola and some dark liquor. Care to join?”

She snaps the journal shut. “Absolutely.”

A few hours later they are playing a childish game of never have I ever, clearly calling the other out. He’s sat in his armchair, she’s sat on the dinosaur skull next to him.

“Never have I ever been to jail.” She sneers as Stan drinks from his cup.

“Never have I ever kissed someone’s twin brother.” Stan sneers back. She rolls her eyes as she drinks.

“Never have I ever faked my death.” She laughs.

“Never have I ever, um, slept with my fiance's college roommate.” He watches as she narrows her eyes at him.

“That’s low Stanley,” she takes a drink. “Never have I ever lost a girlfriend to a hippie.” She bites her lip to stop her shit eating grin.

Stan frowns as he drinks. “Alright I’ve had enough of that game.”

“Why,” she jeers. “Because you know I have more dirt on you than you do me?” She turns to straddle her chair.

He grumbles some excuse and drinks more.

“Oh that’s exactly why.” She takes a drink.

“Well what do you expect, kid? I’ve lived a life of crime and you went to college and met a nice boy, who swept you off your feet to a romantic cabin in the woods.” He huffs.

“Hmm,” she thinks. “I suppose that’s true. Stan why haven’t you found a nice girl, or guy, to settle down with?” She asks sincerely.

“I’ve been too busy. Plus I got you to take care of.” He laughs as she punches his arm.

“I could take care of myself if you want to go off and get married. You’re a total catch Stan, some girl would be happy to be with you.” She smiles and finishes her drink.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” He jokes.

“I’m just being honest, any Pine’s boy is a catch. Why do you think Sermie is already married with a grown kid? Plus I got lucky and snatched up the cute twin before someone else got him.” She jokes and Stan shoves her shoulder playfully, however in her buzzed state she begins to fall back. Stan moves to catch her, both his hand landing on her shoulders.

“Thanks,” she breaths, her face right next to his. Before she knows it Stan leans in and gives her a kiss. She kisses back, after a few kisses they both pull back.

She laughs and covers her mouth. He chuckles too.

“Yeah, that was weird.” He states.

“Yeah, don’t do that again.” She bursts out laughing and he blushes. ---------- On the twentieth anniversary Stan wakes up to the sound of banging. He sits up with a start and heads down stairs to the basement. He finds her hard at work tinkering away.

“You alright, kid?” He asks.

“When are you going to stop calling me kid, Stanley? We’re a few years apart, not to mention, we’re almost senior citizens.” She smirks.

“Gross, don’t say that.” He scratches himself. “But what are you doing down here so early?”

She continues what she was working on. “I just feel like we’re so close. Closer than we’ve ever been. Don’t you feel it too?” Her eyes are bright and hopeful.

Stan doesn’t really feel the same, but with the look she’s giving him, there's no way in hell he’d say it outloud. “I trust your instinct.” He starts helping her before she yells at him to go put on clothes and change out of his slippers. ---------- It's a gloomy day outside, the wind is howling and the snow comes down in blankets. She's sat in the arm chair with a pen and paper, writing something down when Stan walks by.

“What’re you up to today, toots?” Stan asks.

She doesn't reply lost in her writing. He leans over to take a look before she pulls it against her chest.

“Are you writing a letter?” He quirked an eyebrow. “Isn’t everyone we know dead?”

She scowls. “You still have two brother who are alive, buttface.”

“You write Shermie?”

“Not often but I do. This isn’t for him though.” She pouts.

Stan pauses and thinks before he speaks, what a rarity. “It’s for Ford?”

She slowly nods. “I’ve written him a letter every year on his anniversary since he’s been gone. Today marks twenty five years. Just in case.”

“Just in case what?” Stan frowns.

She lets out a small laugh. “Stan we aren’t exactly spring chickens. I could have a heart attack tomorrow and-”

“Don’t talk like that, Ford will be back soon, you won’t need those lousy letters to tell him what’s been going on around here.” Stan states gruffly.

She smiles. “I’m sorry if me talking of my own mortality upset you Stan. I won’t mention it again.” ---------- “Shermie’s grandkids are coming up for the summer.” Stan tells her one morning over breakfast.

“Really?” She beams. “I can’t wait to meet then, Stanley that’s so exciting!” Her smile wavers for a second. “But, Gravity Falls really isn't the safest place for kids.”

“What was I supposed to tell Shermie’s kids, No they can’t come because there's gnomes and mythical creatures in the forest?” He pinches his nose. “It’ll be good to get those city slickers in the forest for a while, toughen them up.”

“How old are they?”

“12.”

[fallen-gravity]

Cheap Thrills and Expensive Snacks

Mabel grins. “Grunkle Ford, do you want to go on a road trip with us? One last adventure before we have to go home?”

Ford’s smile softens with sadness. He’d gotten so caught up in reveling in Bill’s defeat that he’d almost forgotten the kids were heading back to California at the end of the summer.

Ford shakes his head. “I would love to, but…” he frowns. “I’m not sure we have enough time”

The young twins exchange grins, like that’s exactly the response they were waiting for.

“I wouldn’t say that, Grunkle Ford” Dipper grins, looking like he’s struggling to suppress a fit of giggles.

“We have all time in the world” Mabel finishes Dipper’s sentence for him, and in perfect unison the twins pull out a roll of measuring tape from their pockets.

Notes: Here's my belated entry for Week 3 of Forduary: Road Trip!! I absolutely love the road trip trope, and highkey wish Ford could've gotten to see some of Stan's competitors just for the sake of how awful they were compared to the Mystery Shack. C'mon! Give Stan some credit.I also wanted an excuse for Ford to bond more with the kids before they went home, and what better way than through a never-ending roadtrip that somewhat breaks the laws of time and space?

@forduary

AO3

Ever since Ford heard the first bird chirping the morning after Weirdmageddon’s conclusion, he’s felt like a thirty-year old weight has finally been lifted from his shoulders. For the first time in decades, Ford has found himself able to sleep, able to eat, able to do and say anything he pleases without having to speak in hushed tones or cast a cautious glance behind his shoulders.

For the first time since his childhood, he truly feels like himself again, and no longer like a marionette whose strings are always on the brink of snapping under pressure.

It was that first morning after the war, upon waking up before others (out of habit, mostly), that he allowed himself to truly sit and ponder on everything he’s been missing since shutting himself out from the world in his early twenties. He quickly came to the conclusion that the things he missed most were always the things he’d always had just outside of arm’s length; He missed the thrill of discovery, of exploration,  the passion for his life’s work that had faded into thin air the moment that fateful first test run of the portal had failed.

Most of all, he missed companionship.

As much as he hated to admit it to himself, Ford needed other people in his life more than anything else, even more than Ivy League schools and research grants and all the knowledge in the universe.

He told Stan the reason he wanted to take a boat out to the Arctic was to track and contain the remnants of Weirdmageddon that had begun to spread outside of Gravity Falls. But truth be told, he would’ve asked Stan if he still wanted to travel world with him regardless, because Ford found himself wanting nothing more than to chase their childhood dream and never let it go again.

There’s a light knock on his study door as he’s scribbling down navigation notes and he’s half-expecting to see Stan when he turns to the noise. He’s instead met with Dipper and Mabel, standing side by side in his doorway.

“Got a minute?” Dipper asks.

“We have something super important to ask you!” Mabel beams.

Ford places his pen down on his desk, and smiles. “I’m listening”

“Well,” Dipper starts. “We’ve been thinking about how we didn’t get to spend a whole lot of time with you this summer because...” he shrugs. “Well, because we didn’t know you existed until a few weeks ago”

“And that’s totally unfair to you!” Mabel throws her arms up in the air. “It’s not your fault you missed out on all the fun because you were trapped in another dimension”

Dipper nods. “And that got us thinking of all the time we spent with Grunkle Stan, and the road trip he took us on a few weeks ago without you. I don’t know if that was because he asked you and you said no, or if he left without telling you out of spite, or something”

“And that’s when a super genius idea came to us!” Mabel grins. “Grunkle Ford, do you want to go on a road trip with us? One last adventure before we have to go home?”

Ford’s smile softens with sadness. He’d gotten so caught up in reveling in Bill’s defeat that he’d almost forgotten the kids were heading back to California at the end of the summer.

But…a glance to the calendar hanging by the doorway tells him it’s August 29th, and the twins are set to leave after their birthday party ends on the 31st.

Ford shakes his head. “I would love to, but…” he frowns. “I’m not sure we have enough time”

The young twins exchange grins, like that’s exactly the response they were waiting for.

“I wouldn’t say that, Grunkle Ford” Dipper grins, looking like he’s struggling to suppress a fit of giggles.

“We have all time in the world” Mabel finishes Dipper’s sentence for him, and in perfect unison the twins pull out a roll of measuring tape from their pockets. Before Ford has even a moment to wonder what they could mean, they each pull on their tape, high five each other, and disappear into thin air.

Ford stumbles to his feet, nearly knocking his chair to the ground. Between one blink and the next the kids reappear, both of them wearing period piece costumes. The measuring tapes in their hand crackle with blue lightning.

Ford gasps. “Time tapes! Of course!” He approaches the twins in the doorway. “How did you two get ahold of these?”

“Let’s just say we have an inside to these sorts of things” Mabel replies, kicking her costume off and placing her time tape back into her sweater pocket.

“So what do you say?” Dipper steps forward. “Do you want to come with us on a road trip? We can literally go whenever we want”

“You mean when--” Mabel pauses, backtracking. “Oh, wait, you did say that”

“So what do you say, Grunkle Ford? One more adventure for the road?”

Ford’s chest fills with warmth. He’d love to; he really would, but…

“What about Stan?”

“Y’gotta give me some credit, poindexter” Stan’s voice rings from behind the corner. If Ford had to guess, it’s probably because he was waiting for his response. “Someone’s gotta tag along to babysit you three”

Ford wants to glare at his brother at the insult, but his excitement overtakes it and a grin spreads to his face instead.

“Let’s go,” he says, with all the wonder in his tone that he’d been missing for years.

Dipper and Mabel exchange nods, and take each other’s hands. With their free hands, they stretch their measuring tapes out the same length.  Stan grabs on to Mabel’s shoulder, and after he and Dipper share a silent, knowing glance, Ford places his hand on Dipper’s shoulder.

Dipper and Mabel release their tape in unison, and a large flash of white light overwhelms Ford’s vision. When it finally fades, the four of them are still standing exactly where they’d been a moment ago, the only indication that anything changed being the sparks of blue lightning crackling from their clothes.

Dipper’s the first to step away from the huddle. “See?” He gestures at Ford’s wall calendar, which now displays June instead of August. “It’s practically the beginning of the summer all over again!”

Mabel breaks away to stand beside Dipper. “Now we can go anywhere we want! We could go to Portland, or Vegas, or the lost city of Atlantis, or anywhere in the world, because this bad boy prevents us from missing our bus ride home for as long as we want!”

Stan chuckles, shaking his head. “Not so fast, Mabel. I love the enthusiasm, but I’m not sure my old RV can handle driving into the ocean. Not unless Brainiac over here is willing to do some modifications on it” Stan throws an arm around Ford’s shoulder, squeezing it tightly. “Besides, I’ve already got a plan!” Stan’s gaze shifts to Ford, and the grin on his face could split it in two. “If you think my attractions look fake, just wait ‘til you see how bad my competitors look compared to me!”

“I dunno,” Dipper frowns, scratching at his chin. “Don’t you think going back to the place where you were almost eaten by a giant spider lady is a bad idea?”

“Hey, time travel rules mean that I never met her in the first place, right?” Stan crosses his arms. “Besides, it’s not like I’m gonna fall for her tricks all over again just because she offers me discounted tickets, or something”

Dipper and Mabel exchange worried glances.

“Mmm, okay,” Dipper says. “But we’re keeping an eye on you”

“That’s the spirit!” Stan exclaims, and slaps Ford on the back as he backs out of the room. “I’m gonna go pack. I doubt you have anything to pack, Sixer, but we’re reconvening in the gift shop in an hour. Go…take a shower or something. I don’t wanna spend next twelve hours driving with someone smelling like that.”

Ford glares at him, but before he has time to respond Stan’s already gone. The kids must’ve slipped out close on Stan’s heels, because when Ford turns he’s alone in his room. Rolling his eyes, he walks to his couch and kneels on the ground, reaching underneath for his emergency exploration pack. It’s a backpack torn and worn from age, and comes already packed with water bottles, nutrient bars, sunscreen, and just about every brand of monster repellent known to mankind.

A nostalgic sort of smile threatens to tug at his lips. He hasn’t seen this bag since his early research days with Fiddleford. He slings it over his shoulders, and pats at his trench coat pocket to make sure his journal is still safely tucked inside. He doesn’t necessarily plan on making any more additions, but he supposes that old habits die hard.

~~

It’s a very bulky RV, much bigger than Ford was expecting. He’d assumed that Stan calling it an RV was just an exaggeration, and that the four of them would just be piling into the Stanleymobile as they tugged some tiny trailer along that they would only would only step foot in for sleeping. But as Ford approaches, he can see Dipper and Mabel chatting at a small table through the window, and Stan rummaging through a cupboard above them, and it looks as though there’s still plenty of room to walk between them.

Mabel taps on Dipper’s shoulder, points in Ford’s direction, and both of them wave frantically out the window at him.

“Took you long enough,” Stan suddenly appears in the doorway of the camper. “Now get in. The last thing we need is to run into the past versions of those two and get bombarded with questions” He gestures with his thumb towards Dipper. “Especially him.  He sees that journal sticking out of your pocket and we’re done for”

Ford chuckles. “I can only imagine,” he says, and climbs aboard behind Stan. He’s about to take the passenger side seat besides Stan when the kids frantically wave him over.

“Grunkle Ford, over here!” Mabel beams, and hops down from her seat across from Dipper. “Come sit with us!”

“This is a road trip about spending more time with you, after all” Dipper nods. “What good will it do for us if you’re sitting way up front with Stan?”

“Yeah! No good interrogation ever happens from across the room!” Mabel exclaims.

Ford raises an eyebrow, but smiles at the pair as he takes a seat across from them. “Interrogation?”

“Yep!” Dipper grins. “We already know all of the heroic scientist stuff about you…”

“But we want to know the fun Grunkle stuff about you!” Mabel finishes his sentence for him. “You favorite ice cream flavor, your first kiss, the most illegal thing you’ve ever gotten away with…you know, just the basics!”

Ford blushes. “Well, I don’t know about that…”

“Aww, I’m sure it’s not that bad! Dipper’s first kiss was with a merman he had to give reverse CPR to!”

“Mabel!”  Dipper squeaks, his whole a dark shade of red. “That’s not fair! You know I didn’t have a choice!”

Ford can’t help the fond smile that spreads to his face. It’s moments like these that he’s going to miss the most. Sure, he’ll have anomalies, and treasure, and the whole world to explore, but he just knows that none of that is ever going to compare to time alone with the kids.

Once Stan gets the RV up and running, Ford knows there’s no going back. He and the kids swap childhood stories for hours, only pausing when Stan pulls off the side of the road to fuel up on gas and snacks. Dipper tells him of the time him and Mabel shaved their heads after a bully stuck gum in Mabel’s hair on photo day, and Ford tells them of the time that he and Stan swapped clothes on photo day just to see if they could get away with it. (They could, and Ford still has the yearbook where their photos are mislabeled as each other hidden away in his study to this day).

It’s eye opening, honestly. The young twins really are a mirror image to himself and Stan when they were kids.

“We’re here!” Stan grins, screeching the RV to a sudden halt. Upon looking out the window, the only thing Ford can see is a gift shop about the size of an outhouse and a ball of yarn about three sizes bigger than the RV.  Stan stands from the driver’s seat, stretching. “You think I overcharge for my tours, Sixer? This woman charges double the price of my admission just to take a picture of this fuzz ball” He reaches underneath the driver’s seat, pulling out a large hook attached to a thick rope. “We’re only doing her a favor by stealing it! Starting from scratch with a new attraction could do her some good”

“Hmm, I dunno” Dipper shrugs. “Don’t you think that doing the exact same prank on all of your competitors in the exact same order is just gonna result in them, I dunno, pranking you again in the exact same way?”

“Nonsense!” Stan brings his hand to his chest like Dipper had offended him. “The only reason they got away with it last time is because we left poindexter here home alone in the basement. There’ll be dozens of tour groups coming through the shack today with my past self taking care of the place for me.”  He taps at his forehead. “Besides, wasn’t this whole road trip your idea in the first place?” He smirks. “Are you telling me that your own idea is dumb?”

Dipper opens his mouth to argue back, realizes he has nothing, and pouts grumpily as he hops out of the RV. Stan cackles, and hops out of the RV after him. Ford rolls his eyes, and hops out after them to take a look at his surroundings. Stan really wasn’t kidding; everything really is contained to the one parking lot with nothing to show for it but the giant ball of yarn and a converted outhouse with tie-dye tee shirts hanging from its roof.

“Don’t just stand there gawking at it!” Stan slaps him on the shoulder, grinning. “Either help the kids out or talk the old woman’s ear off long enough to distract her” he gestures with a thumb towards Dipper and Mabel, giggling and poking at each other as they tie the rope end of the hook to the RV. As Mabel walks to attach the hook to the large yarn ball, she notices Ford watching her and waves hello.

“Hey Grunkle Ford!” she shouts. “If there’s enough left over from this mound after we drag it home, I’ll knit you a sweater with it!”

Ford laughs as he approaches to help her. “I’m counting on it.”

As it turns out, she wasn’t joking. As soon as they’ve all piled back into the RV to head to the next tourist trapped, Mabel already has her sewing needles in hand and a tangled ball of multicolored yarn sitting on the table in front of her. It’s amazing watching her work, clicking the needles together so quickly yet delicately, not missing a single fold. Ford’s never seen someone pour so much love into something so particular since the early days of his research.

Ford doesn’t want to interrupt her focus, so he turns to Dipper instead.

“How long has she been able to do that?”

Dipper glances at his sister beside him. “Oh, you mean sewing? Our grandma from our mom’s side of the family taught her when she was about six.” He rolls his eyes. “Our parents tried to buy her an electronic sewing machine for our eighth birthday, but she flat out rejected it because she insisted there wouldn’t be enough love in her creations if she didn’t make them by hand”

“It’s true!” Mabel exclaims, not looking up from her sewing job. “I’m not gonna sit around and let some machine do all the work for me! How are my friends and family supposed to know I made them their sweaters with love if I didn’t sew my blood and sweat into the threads myself?”

Ford hopes she’s being metaphorical, but the sentiment is still there. “So you’re telling me that every sweater you’ve worn this summer is homemade?”

“Yep!” she beams. “All the way down to the embroidery.” She holds up the skeleton of the sweater she’s working on into the light. “You’re real lucky, Grunkle Ford. This’ll be my first sweater I’ve ever made out of stolen materials!”

Her use of the term first rather than only makes Ford laugh.  The more time he spends with them, the less he wants to say goodbye to them. Stan must be the bravest man alive, being willing to send these kids home after three months with them, because if it were up to him he’d already be signing adoption papers to make them legally his.

“Stop two!” Stan yells from the front of the RV, and hops out as soon as they’re parked. Mabel places her work gently on the table, and follows Stan out without any effort. Dipper, on the other hand, takes one look out the window at where they’ve stopped and pales.

“Oh no”

Ford follows his gaze. It’s just a single story home turned on its head, absolutely nothing about it giving Ford the impression that there’s anything scary about it.

“What’s wrong?” Ford asks. “Do you get motion sickness? I learned quite a few tricks on how to deal with just the thing in the Spinning Top Dimension! You’re going to need a few things first, but I’m sure we’ll be able to find them around here somewhere-”

“N-no, it’s not that” Dipper cuts him off, face turning a dark shade of red. “The last time we were here I tried asking Grunkle Stan if he had any advice on how to talk to girls. And there was this one really cute girl, and we hit it off, but…” he rubs at his arm. “I acted like a total jerk. I treated her like she was just a number and I feel awful about it”

Ford frowns, getting down on one knee. “You’re not worried you’re going to run into her again, are you? This time loop should be stable enough to prevent her from showing up early”

Dipper’s gaze falls to the floor. “No, it’s more like…I’m so afraid of being myself that I feel like the only way I can fit in is to act like something I’m not. I just wish I could figure out a way to talk to girls without forcing myself to act like I’m better than them or something”

Ford smiles. “Dipper, I may not have any sound advice when it comes to girls,  but I’ve only known you for a number of weeks, and I think anyone would be lucky to have you. You’re kind and caring and so brilliant for your age” Dipper opens his mouth to protest, but Ford shakes his head. “Some of the most brilliant minds in the world suffered from anxiety and depression, my boy, and look where they are now. I have the upmost confidence that the same thing is bound to happen to you”.

Dipper’s eyes are big and wide, like he’s about to cry, but the waterworks never come. Dipper throws his arms around Ford’s neck in a hug, and Ford hugs him back. Once they pull away, they hop out of the van to join Stan and Mabel outside to prevent Stan from coming back in to yell at them. This stop is a bit less complicated, just a simple walkthrough to make sure there isn’t a hoard of tourists inside before running back out to tip the whole house right side up. It’s a lot of laughing from Stan and sprinting back to the van, and once they’re out of the parking lot and back on the highway it’s as if they never stopped at all. Mabel gets right back to working on her sweater, and Dipper gets right back to chatting up Ford for life stories.

A good portion of their stops go equally as smooth. The kids convince Ford to go on the log flume at Log Land with them which he absolutely does not throw up on, thank you very much, and Mabel nearly gets lost in a corn maze, but otherwise there’s nothing much of interest. Ford’s starting to suspect that Stan must be right, that the Mystery Shack really is the most interesting tourist trap in the entire state, until a giant mountain looms over the horizon.

“There she is,” Stan says, as if he could read his brother’s thoughts. “Her first year of opening I lost over half my usual revenue and I’ve sworn revenge on her ever since” He balls his hand into a fist and smacks the top of the steering wheel. “Our biggest mistake last time was getting too attached. I say this time we run in, grab as many mummies as we can get our hands on, and book it back to the shack before Darlene notices.”

“Don’t you mean that was your biggest mistake?” Dipper quips. “Besides, didn’t we find out last time that those mummies are real dead bodies?” He shivers. “I’m not sure how comfortable I’d feel about stealing them”

From the rearview mirror, Stan raises an eyebrow at Dipper. “What, you afraid their souls are gonna follow us home and haunt us? Work on your moral compass later, kid, this is about revenge” He adjusts the mirror. “Besides! What’s the chance we rescue someone who isn’t dead yet, just slowly suffocating in that nasty tasting web?”

Dipper opens his mouth to say one thing, pauses, and starts again. “Grunkle Stan, are you telling me you tried to eat the web you were trapped in?”

Stan shrugs. “Hey, I’m no stranger to chewing my way out of things. I’m just lucky I didn’t break any teeth on it, like I did with that car trunk”

As if that doesn’t raise more questions than it does answers, Stan drops the conversation entirely and doesn’t say another word until the RV pulls into the parking lot. Ford can’t even see the mountain peak when he hops out, it’s so obscured by fog that he knows wasn’t there ten minutes ago. Fog is the number one trap produced by anomalies to hunt their pray, so it’s no wonder this place gives Stan the creeps. Ford can’t even begin to imagine the size of the spider monsters the others described to him.

A shriek nearly escapes him at the feeling of something spindly crawling up his arm, but when he whips around he sees it’s just Stan running his fingers along his shoulder in a quick, scattered pattern. When he catches Ford’s eyes, he laughs so hard that tears pour down his cheeks.

“You should’ve seen the look on your face!” Stan wheezes. “You were all oh no, mister spider half the size of my hand, don’t eat me!” he cackles, wiping at his eyes with his wrist. “C’mon, time is money, and we don’t have any to waste” he gestures to the kids, already waiting at the information booth. “If we don’t hurry the kids are gonna get on the sky tram without us”

Ford raises an eyebrow. “You? On a sky tram?”

“Dipper didn’t tell you?” Stan’s raised eyebrow matches Ford’s. “Mabel helped me conquer my fear of heights! Now I’m untouchable!”

Seventeen years of the boardwalk and all the cotton candy as bribe in the world couldn’t fix Stan’s fear of heights. Dipper and Mabel really do continue to amaze him the more Stan tells him about them.

“Right,” Ford shakes his head, smiling fondly. “Of course.”

~~

It’s really no wonder this place boasts having the world’s slowest sky tram, because if it weren’t for the moving tree line Ford would almost think they weren’t moving at all. The bored expression on everyone else’s faces, a massive shift from the mischievous grins they’d been wearing before they got on has Ford choking down laughter. It’s about five minutes before there’s any sight of anything but tree bark, and the sun beaming directly into the glass car makes the whole thing feel like a sauna.

Still, it’s a dramatic shift in pace, and not one that Ford rejects. It’s really forcing him to slow down and think about his own feelings for once, a privilege he hasn’t had since he was in high school. Maybe it’s a little selfish of him to cherish the times he just gets to lose himself in his own head, rather than to spend so much of his time calculating plans to rescue others from danger, but-

“Whaddya think, poindexter?” Stan’s voice suddenly breaks through Ford’s thoughts, startling him.

Ford blushes. “What do I think of what?”

“The new plan!” Stan gestures to Dipper with his thumb. “Since this buzzkill is so against stealing ‘real dead bodies’,” he emphasizes with air quotes, “and since we probably couldn’t shove them all in this car anyway, we’re gonna go ahead with Plan B instead; Burning down Widow’s Peak!” Stan throws his hands in the air dramatically.

Dipper beams. “That way, they can’t make any more mummies for their mummy museum, and we might be able to save a few people from suffocating to death!” Stan and Dipper high five.

“It’s a brilliant plan, but…” Ford taps at his chin. “Where do you suppose we’re going to find the fire to burn it down?”

Stan cocks an eyebrow at him. “You tell me, mister ‘setting my face on fire is faster than shaving’. I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a lighter in your pocket right now. They have a bunch of prop torches in the caves, but if we pop the lightbulbs out of them and light them they should work good as usual” Stan’s mischievous grin is back on his face, a perfect reflection of when he was thirteen and pickpocketing a dollar from people’s wallets on the boardwalk to buy a box of saltwater taffy.

Turns out, it’s just as contagious now as it was back then. Ford reaches into the front pocket of his trench coat, and sure enough, comes up with a lighter. Stan erupts in laughter at the sight of it, and soon enough the entire car is infected with it. The rest of the ride up the mountain is much bubblier after that, with everyone swapping overdramatic stories of how the plan is going to go.

~~

Widow’s Peak is much bigger than Ford was expecting. It’s a whole cave that looks like it stretches for miles, and there really are rotting skeletons hanging upside down from the cave walls and ceilings.

Ford shudders.

“Aww, c’mon, Sixer! I know for a fact this isn’t half as bad as the stuff in your journals” Stan jabs at his shoulder with his unlit torch. “Besides, didn’t you say in your own journal that most ghosts come from their old bodies not having a proper burial? He gestures at a skeleton hanging upside down from the ceiling, its left hand barely hanging on by a thread. “You think any of these guys look like their spirits were able to move on peacefully, or however it goes?” Stan shakes his head matter of-factly. “You really want some poor unsuspecting tourist to bump into a hoard of angry ghosts? Tsk tsk”

“Alright, alright” Ford raises his hands in self-defense. “I suppose you’re right”. He takes his lighter out of his pocket and tosses it to Stan. Stan lights up his own torch, helps Dipper and Mabel with theirs, and then he turns back to help light Ford’s.

“Alright,” Stan rubs his hands together the best he can with a lit torch tucked under his arms. “Everyone knows the plan. Burn as many mummies as you can find, rescue the poor suckers who are still alive, and signal if you hear Darlene coming. Since I don’t trust Sixer over here not to try and interview her and get himself in trouble again, I say I’m in charge of lookout duty.” He adjusts his collar and flattens down the wrinkles of his suits with a quick pat down. “I flirt with her just long enough to distract her, I throw my torch in her face, and then we book it out of here as fast as our legs can carry us”

Dipper still doesn’t look convinced. “I don’t know, isn’t that exactly how you got yourself tangled up in a web last time?”

“Oh please,” Stan scoffs, waving a dismissive hand. “The only reason that worked last time is ‘cause she cornered me when we were alone. Besides, where’s she gonna take me if she catches me that you can’t just throw a torch and rescue me five minutes after it happens?”

Dipper’s face darkens. “True,” he mumbles under his breath, which makes Stan laugh. Stan slaps him on the shoulder, and Dipper glares at him, but there doesn’t seem to be any malice in it.

It’s one final glance between the four of them, and they’re all running off in different directions of the cave. It’s not long before the stench of burning silk fills the air, mixed with the stench of something Ford doesn’t want to think too much about. The webs burn relatively quickly, and together they burn through half of the cave in a much faster time than Ford would’ve expected. He’s about to light up one that looks like it was left here fairly recently, until something inside it starts wiggling.  Startled, Ford steps backwards until his back hits the cave wall, a soft oof escaping him.

“S’matter, poindexter?” Stan looks up from the fire he’s stomping out with his foot. “You see a widdle baby spider that freaked you out?”

Ford tries to glare at him, but the fear stabbing him in the chest doesn’t let it stick. He swallows hard, and points towards the wiggling cocoon with his torch.

“I think we have a live one” he whispers, stepping to stand beside Stan. Once Stan follows Ford’s torch with his eyes, something inside him tenses up.

“Ah, wh-what’d I tell you?” Stan’s voice shakes. “It’s probably just some poor sucker who fell for Darlene’s charms. Definitely not a gross sack of baby spider people or anything”

“R-right,” Ford swallows hard, and inches back towards the cocoon, rapidly waving his torch back and forth to potentially scare off whatever could be inside trying to break out.  But the longer he waves the torch in front of the web, the more he can make out the silhouette of a regular human being.

Throwing all caution to the wind, Ford rushes forward and begins tearing at the web with his bare hands, just enough so that the man is free from the chest up. He takes large gasps of air, and upon realizing that his hands are free he begins tearing at the web himself.  Once his feet are free and hit the ground, he takes one look at the Pines family, mumbles a startled thank you, and runs for his life out of the cave.

After that, the rest of the burnings go pretty smoothly. There’s significantly less living tourists in the cave than Ford would’ve expected from such a large tourist trap, and Ford’s not entirely sure whether he should find that reassuring or downright terrifying.  He’s almost surprised everything went so well, until the four of them nearly collide with a woman on their way out of the cave.

She looks just as baffled to see them as Ford feels to see her.

“Can I…help you?” She asks in a thick Jersey-esque accent. The name tag pinned to her shirt reads DARLENE in large brick letters.

“No!” Dipper cuts in before neither Ford nor Stan can respond to her. He clears his throat. “I mean, uh, no. Uh, apologies if this is a restricted area, but we got lost trying to find our way back to the sky tram” he shrugs overdramatically, no doubt in attempt to show Darlene that his hands are empty. She squints at him, and for a moment Ford could swear he just saw her blink horizontally. The silence that follows, though it probably doesn’t last for more than a few seconds, feels like it drags on for ages.

Suddenly, she’s donning an overly sweet smile. “Well, why didn’t you just say so? Let me walk you back. We’ve gotten more than our fair share of tourists who’ve gone missing from wandering too far into our caves, and I’d hate to have that happen to such a nice looking family like yours” She grins, flashing her unusually sharp teeth.  The four of them stay quiet until they’re all packed into their tram car, and Darlene is waving sweetly at them from behind.

They each collectively sigh. “Woof, that was a close one” Stan says, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his wrist. In a sudden shift of mood, he reaches over next to him and pulls Dipper into a headlock. “How’s about it for this guy’s quick thinking, huh?” he grins, and the four of them laugh until they hear a horrifying screech that makes their tram car rumble. They turn, and see Darlene emerging from the cave, the bottom half of her body replaced by that of a giant spider.

“My food!” she screams, shaking her first at the tram cars. “You burned all my food! Mark my words, I may not have gotten your names but I don’t forget faces very easily, you hear? If you ever show your face here again you’re dead meat!” She screams, yanking on her hair to reveal the rest of her spider-like body under her human disguise.

Stan simply cackles. “Yeah, we’ll see about that!” he mocks, knowing well enough that she can’t hear them from inside the car. He turns his attention back to the rest of the family. “Maybe we should go and warn our past selves to bring bug spray!” He exclaims, laughing himself to near tears.

Ford only rolls his eyes, but can’t help the smile on his face.

If only he’d known what he’d be missing when he turned down Stan’s offer to take this road trip with him and the kids the first time around.

The tram ride back to the parking lot is even more relaxing than the ride up. The sun is setting this time around, and even if the wind can’t really reach inside the car the whole thing just feels cooler. Most of all, he finds that the sound of the Stan and the kids’ laughter is far more welcome than any old conversation he could have in his own head.

When everyone piles back into the RV, they do not drive away immediately like they had at all the other stops. Instead, Stan turns around to face the three of them. “Well, that’s the end of that. That’s all I had planned, and we still have…” he pauses to count on his finger. “Two more months ‘til the kids have to go back home, technically. I’m all out of ideas, and I’m sure the kids have seen enough of the Gravity Falls weirdness for one summer”

He smiles to the kids, who nod and in turn smile at Ford.

“So where do you want to go now, Grunkle Ford?” Mabel says, with stars shining in her eyes. The grin spreading on Dipper’s face matches hers like two peas in a pod.

“Any place in the world. Wherever you want to go…” He pulls the time tape out of his pocket. “…For however long you want”

[minijenn]

ONE MORE Crystal Falls Preview Thingy

AND THEN I’M FUCKING DONE GIVING AWAY PARTS OF THIS BECAUSE FUCK THIS SHIT IS HURTING ME TO WRITE LIKE I AM GETTING HEAVY JAILBREAK/SOCK OPERA FLASHBACKS RN ONLY THIS IS WAY FUCKING WORSE AND AUGH DAMMIT WHY DID I DECIDE TO WRITE THIS THING IT IS KILLING ME IN ALL THE WORST WAYS FUUUUUUUCCCCKKKK ENJOY ALL THE ANGUISH AUGHGHGHGHGHG

“Well, well, well… looks like things just got a lot more interesting…”

Dipper gasped as he found that the very first thing he was met with upon pulling himself out of the crashed ship’s wreckage was the pitchy voice of the demon who held domain over the entire Earth and all its vast empire. The very demon he had risked life and limb to escape from during his flight from that chaoitc planet, who should have been back on Earth seeing as how he had merely just sent two of his cronies to do his work for him. Yet now, Pacifica was nowhere to be found while Gideon simply stood by, fuming at how Bill was apparently ignoring his proposal to make a deal to take out the Pines family, as well as Steven and Lapis, who had been unfortunate enough to get caught up in all this. But instead, the demon’s singular eye now held focus on Dipper, who couldn’t deny the flash of terror that struck him as that imposing triangular form cast an oppressive shadow over him.

“Hey there, Pine Tree! I was wondering where you ran off to. Guess my hunch about you crawling back to this boring ol’ hunk of rock was right, huh?” Bill began quite effervescently, though as he noticed Dipper attempting to back away, he was quick to reposition himself right behind the boy in a flash. “Whoa, not so fast, kid! You don’t wanna miss out on what could very well be the best deal you’ll ever make, do ya?”

“W-what?” Dipper asked, not having the context to really know what the demon was talking about.

“Hey!” Gideon shouted in sudden outrage as he sent Bill an appalled glare. “I was the one who summoned you here, Bill! I thought you were gonna make a deal with me!”

“Oh, yeah, I was gonna do that,” Bill shrugged nonchalantly. “Until a much better alternative came along.” The demon’s tone dropped low and sinister as he pointed his cane over at Dipper, who was still completely lost amidst this unknown turn of events. “So… see ya, Gideon!” With another flick of his cane, Bill managed to completely take control of Gideon’s amulet, resulting in his own telekinesis being used against him to fling him far away from the Kindergarten crash site and  freeing the demon up to get back to business. “Now, Pine Tree, where were we…?”

“L-Leave him alone!” Mabel shouted as Bill started circling her brother almost threateningly. The only reason she hadn’t ran over to pull Dipper away herself was because of the steady hold Stan had on her arm, keeping her held back just as much as she had been held back the first time he had been stolen away from her seven years ago. Only now, with a threat so much more dangerous and unpredictable as Bill Cipher, her complete inability to do anything to help Dipper felt so, so much worse.

“So listen up, Pine Tree, cause I don’t like to repeat myself,” Bill said as casually as ever, ignoring Mabel’s fearful cry. “You may not know this since you’ve been all blind and buried for so many years, but back on Earth, I’m pretty much the most powerful guy around. Time manipulation, the ability to change anything and anyone with a blink of an eye, endless amounts of magic your feeble human brain couldn’t even hope to comprehend, you know, the works! But here on silly old Homeworld, things are a bit… different. This planet’s outta my hands, which is something I plan on changing pretty soon, but for now, to even interact with this place physically at all without a vessel. So I need a little… help, if ya catch my drift…” s on edge as he already was by the dream demon’s mere presence alone, Dipper slowly shook his head, finally realizing just how fast his heart was pounding as he tried his hardest to reconcile his complete and utter terror. Still, Bill simply sighed in exasperation and rolling his eye before he explained. “My drift is this: you let me possess you, let me take the reins and sit in your control seat for a while, so I can finally get rid of what’s left of your stupid, annoying family! Heck, since you’re so un-Pines compared to all the rest of them, I’ll even let you walk away with your life when it’s all said and done as my way of saying thanks! Sounds like a pretty good plan, doesn’t it, kid?”

For a moment there were no words that Dipper could find to describe just how absolutely appalled he was by this incredibly gruesome idea. The fact that Bill Cipher, of all the beings in the universe, wanted to use him as a tool to destroy his own family, that he wanted him to agree to let such a thing happen? It was beyond twisted and cruel. In fact, he was so shocked by it that he couldn’t even properly express anything but absolute dumbfoundment at it when he finally did manage to respond to it. “I… I don’t understand…” he choked, shaking his head once more. “W-why… what makes you think I would ever say yes to something like that?”

“Why wouldn’t you say yes to something like that?” Bill retorted calmly. “Think about this for a sec, Pine Tree. These three?” he threw a hand out towards Mabel, Stan, and Ford. “They let a bunch of Earth squares steal you away when you were only 5 years old. And then what did they do? What did they do while you were beaten and battered almost constantly for weeks on end? What did they do when someone ran a knife over your eyes until you were completely totally blind? What did they do when you were left for dead in that empty cell for seven years with nothing but a bunch of dumb old rocks and your own pathetic, unfulfilled dreams to keep you company? Oh, that’s right! They did nothing!”

Dipper shuddered at this, hating to admit that every single thing the demon was saying was true but knowing in his heart that it was. He had languished, suffered, hoped in vain for so long that they would come for him, but they never did until after all the hope he had left in him had long since died. And even then, they had only managed to stumble upon him on accident. Stan and Ford had even said so themselves that they had stopped looking for him only a year after his disappearance. This was something he had thought about frequently, ever since he had been set free, and every time he did, it only made him ache with the belief that his own family had cared so very little about him that they had just given up on him completely. And really, it was a large part of the reason he had already given up on them.

“Really, kid, it only makes sense,” Bill continued, fighting rationality upon seeing that his manipulation was seemingly working. “I mean, you don’t even wanna be part of their family anymore anyway, so why not just do yourself a favor and lighten this whole ‘rebellious legacy’ load off your shoulders? At least then, you wouldn’t have to keep running away all the time.”

“Dipper! Don’t listen to him! Please” Mabel cried once again, pulling against Stan’s grip, though it held fest, lest she break free and throw herself into the same danger her brother was in.

“Seriously, kid, he’s lying to you!” Stan shouted adamantly, wanting to believe that, despite all of the abuse he had been through in his young life, that his nephew was smarter than this. “You really think he won’t off you the second he’s through with all of us?! Because that’s not how that psychopath works, believe us.”

“Stanley’s right,” Ford agreed, the immense worry in his otherwise tight expression. “Dipper, you can’t trust him, he only wants to-”

“Hey, how about you three butt out for a sec and let Pine Tree decide here?” Bill cut their pleas off sharply before turning back to Dipper. “See what I mean, kid? The only thing they care about is saving their own hides. That’s exactly why they never bothered to look even ten minutes outside their own backyard for your. Guess they just didn’t think you were worth the effort.”

“No, we did think you were worth it, Dipper!” Mabel protested fiercely, though she kept at it as Dipper finally glanced over at her, clear conflict filling his expression. “I never wanted to stop looking for you! I always hoped that you were still alive and out there somewhere and I was right. A-and I know you’re mad at us for taking so long to find you, but you can’t do this. Please, Dipper… I-I can’t lose you again, not like this…”

Dipper could still scarcely even think of what to say amidst being pressed on all sides, but for what seemed like ages he kept his frightened, anxious, uncertain gaze on Mabel, who could only meet it with tears after she finished her appeal. She desperately hoped that it would be enough to sway him against such an awful deal, that he’d staunchly turn Bill down and finally come to stand with his family once more. Yet… it really didn’t seem to be enough, for instead of keeping his sights on her, he gradually glanced over to Lapis, who had simply been standing along with Steven in tense silence this entire time, neither of them having the faintest clue about what to do to stop this. As Dipper made eye contact with her, the most the blue Gem could do was softly shake her head, her eyes wide with unabridged terror at the thought of losing the boy she had just grown so close to like this. And yet, it was only as Dipper saw that terror that he realized what would happen if he said no to the demon’s twisted aspirations. Even if he refused, then Bill would always be able to find someone else, someone much more willing even, to carry out his sadistic plans. And then, none of them, no one on Homeworld at all, would be safe, including his family, including Mabel, including Steven, including Lapis. No one would be able to stop the insane demon from doing whatever violent, demented thing he wanted, including destroying anything and anyone who stood in his path of conquest and chaos. If he said no, then there would be no telling what might happen.

Which was exactly why he had to say yes.

“So, kid, have you made up your mind yet?” Bill asked with faux boredom. “Because I’m a very busy demon, what with ruling my own intergalactic empire and everything, and I haven’t got all-”

“I’ll do it,” Dipper spoke up, squaring his shoulders and putting on his bravest face as he thought about exactly what this would entail for him. Even so, he had a plan, one that was only really tentative at best and one that would only really lead him to even more suffering than he had already known, but at least this time, it would all be on his own terms.

Needless to say that the reaction to his staunch agreement was intense. Mabel was the first to lash out, finally pulling herself out of Stan’s hold as a loud scream of protest tore from her. Lapis wasn’t far behind, her wings summoned as she rushed forward, tears forming in her eyes as she hurried to try and stop this deal from going through by any means necessary. Unfortunately, while Bill didn’t have much power on Homeworld, he did have enough to erect a blue fiery barrier, one that easily barred Mabel, Lapis, and anyone else from breaking this arrangement while still giving them a front row seat to it all.

“Yeesh, so much drama with you rebels!” Bill rolled his eye caustically. “I gotta admit, I’ll kinda miss that about you chumps… but not for long! So, Pine Tree, are you finally ready to get even for all those long years of abuse and abandonment? Cause if you are, then all it takes is just one simple handshake…” At this, the demon held his hand out, blue flames sparking over it as he presented it to Dipper, who simply looked between it and Bill himself with cold acceptance. He was ready for this, whatever it was, he told himself. He had spent seven years in blinded emptiness, how could this be much worse than that?

And yet, he still looked over at the pair who had rushed forth in vain to try and save him, both of them looking to him tearfully and still begging him not to go through with this. His resolve nearly crumbled upon meeting Mabel’s miserable expression, but it came back to him when he saw Lapis’. For seven years he had dreamed of nothing but freedom, and now, he was going to give that freedom up, more than likely forever, just to save the two people he was still absolutely certain he cared about.

It was probably the most worthy sacrifice he could think of, if he was perfectly honest with himself.

So, with a deep breath and closed eyes, he took the demon’s hand, allowing his own to be pulled down in shake that locked everything in place. And from there, everything seemed to happen all at once.

[journalxxx]

Awesome And Emotional Multichapter Fics That I Will Never Write - 1

Stan and Ford learn of this far-off, mysterious cave which is feared by the indigenous population because whoever dares to explore it never comes back. If it smells like trouble, they obviously have to check it out. They take off well equipped, with the proper clothes and weapons and tools and even oxygen supplies. It turns out that was a smart choice, because at some point the atmosphere in the cave suddenly turns almost unbreathable, with oxygen level barely sufficient to stay conscious, and they have to put masks on to keep going. Other than that, the cave is pretty much unremarkable, until suddenly a sneaky face-hugger-like monster thingy downs on Ford from the ceiling and almost eats his face off, destroying his mask.

And since it would be far too easy to just let them back-track to the exit from there, let's say it happens right next to a deep crevice which is conveniently not high enough for the fall to kill or incapacitate them, but it is steep enough to prevent them from climbing back up. The facehugger makes it rather unsafe for them to just wait there for the locals to get worried about them, so onwards it must be, in the remote hypothesis that there might be a secondary exit somewhere. The problem is obviously the atmosphere, which isn't ideal for heavy physical activity on Ford's part. Stan insists on sharing his supply, which Ford declines because, due to varied atmospheres he's had to adapt to in different dimension, he's kind of used at being short on breath, and he also has those fancy breathing techniques of his that help him recover more quickly and stay more level-headed than Stan would, not to mention the fact that the more time they spend messing the equipment and arguing about this whole thing, the more air they waste, the more they get distracted and expose themselves to further attacks, yada yada, soon enough Stan grumpily accepts to keep his mask and they start moving. It kind of works at first, but obviously, as time goes on, they need to stop more frequently and at length for Ford to catch his breath, even if he begrudgingly accepts to take a few lungfuls of Stan's air a couple of times. At a certain point Ford, one measured sentence after another, suggests that Stan should leave him behind and come back for him later, once he's found help. Their oxygen supply is limited and they have no idea how far the exit may be, if there even is one, and whether the oxygen levels in the atmosphere might drop even lower before they get to it. If he stops and waits there, Ford should be able to remain awake and vigilant enough to defend himself from any potential attacks, but if they both keep going and run out of air in a more dire environment that causes them both to faint, they're both as well as eaten. It's a sensible suggestion and Stan's obvious reply goes along the lines of 'Fuck you, I'm not leaving you here alone' Ford doesn't have the mental and physical strenght to go against Stan's stubborness so fine, they keep going a bit further, until Ford straight up blacks out and Stan needs to hoist him on his shoulders and bodily drag him forwards. Now, since I'm more of a psychological thriller fan than a horror junkie, I'm gonna toss away the face-hugger like the overused cliche plot device it was and decide that, I don't know, it choked on the plastic and died, I don't care, it won't appear again. But I do invite you to think about Stan's massive stress during the next hour or so. Eyes and ears peeled at the tiniest noise, knowing that if the thing attacks, he probably won't even time to drop Ford and reach for the gun before he gets his face eaten. Trying to give his mask to Ford a couple of times, but realizing that, holy fuck, how did Ford even stay awake that long, the air is so suffocating that one minute without the mask is enough to get him black bubbles in his vision. Finding out that indeed, he can't afford to give the mask to Ford for longer than a handful of seconds at a time, because he would probably faint, and that would be it. Keepins the mask for himself for the sake of moving forward, and hating himself for it, for every time he mocked Ford's hippie yoga sessions and every goddamn cigarette he smoked. Keeping Ford's face close enough to his neck so that he would notice, hopefully, if he were to stop breathing at some point, because he can't check every goddamn minute if he's still doing it, or it'll take them forever to reach the exit, which is totally just past the next corner, right? He almost can't believe when finally, finally, a faint glimmer appears somewhere in front of them, and he almost drops Ford on the spot to check on him and slap him awake or something. But no, no, come on, what if the alien thingy attacks them right there and then when they are almost safe, wouldn't that be lame as fuck. Besides, Ford's probably good, if the exit is that close, the atmosphere must have balanced out some time ago, and he's still breathing, so all good right? All good, definitely, absolutely. So he just keeps dragging him for another handful of painstakingly slow minutes, until they can finally tumble in the grass at a reasonable distance from the entrance. For good measure and for Stan's own peace of mind, considering there's still a surprising amount of air in Stan's tank and that they're in some hellishly hot and damp tropical place where even mosquitos sweat, Stan jams the mask on Ford's face while he tries to poke him awake. Which Ford eventually does shortly afterwards, gaping around himself in disbelief looking all like 'holy shit, how deep did we get, don't tell me there really are dinosaurs down here' Then a beautifully heartwarming conversation follows, along the lines of 'wait what, you dragged me all the way out?' 'no, I gave the alien my beefy jerky and he called a taxi for us, turns out they're really nice. Shut the fuck up and breathe, you fuckface' 'jfc that was such a poor idea, you burnt through the oxygen supply much more quickly and advanced much more slowly, if the exit had been further-' 'jfc I should have choked you in your sleep when I had the chance" Eventually Stan manages to glare Ford into silence and. If we assume this is one of those delightful pre-stancest scenarios. This is exactly the moment where silence falls, and they don't really have anything else to do but stare at each other and realize how close they got to disaster and feel in general very awkward and weird. And Stan is just kneeling there, glancing around to make sure nothing is creeping on them, feeling a ridiculous amount of relief just from seeing Ford breathing calmly while laying limply on the ground, and if that doesn't mean that his brother is a goddamn handful of a problem he doesn't know what does. Ultimately, they go back to the ship and Ford immediately starts making plans on how to eradicate the nasty creature safely. Something which Stan isn't exactly enthusiastic about. An argument easily arises, with Ford obviously wanting to do The Right Thing and free the village from the dangerous cave dweller and Stan, yeah, getting that, but also wanting to establish some firm ground rules, first of all no more self-sacrifing bullshit talk, for any reason. Whatever retort Ford might have regarding tactics and smart use of resources gets cut off when Stan bursts out with the classic 'BECAUSE I'D RATHER DIE THAN LOSE YOU FOR THE THIRD TIME, YOU MOTHERFUCKING IDIOT' trump card that. Kind of guts Ford and opens the way to some long-needed heart-to-heart talk that will eventually lead to smooching and. You know the drill. The end.

[enigmatist17]

Blind Trust (Stan and Ford Pines) (1)

So, this is based off the Brain Trauma AU started by @radioactivedelorean, and I believe she’s had collaboration by @witete @sixerpines @crossroadsdimension @a-million-chromatic-dreams @nour386. If I missed anyone please let me know ^^’

Stanley sighed as he paced back and forth, a motion he had done a hundred times. The glittering purple sand under his feet shone in the presence of two dull colored moons, the beauty of it lost upon the older man. His thoughts were on the two people behind the locked down beside him, Stanley pausing to place a hand on the smooth wooden surface. There was nothing but silence, Stanley sighing as he idly gazed where his hand had been, the wood now glowing red from the touch. It had been, two days?, since the strange alien woman had taken his brother into the room, stating when she finished Stanford would regain his health.  

Regain his health, what a novel thought to Stanley.

The last several months had been…hard. It pained Stanley to think of how his twin went from the confident traveler whom had seen and dealt with things some could only dream of, to a bedridden shell of what he had once been. Every day had been misery for both parties, one at a loss of how to help the man he had only gotten back recently, the other in pain from being in a body that allowed him absolutely nothing but suffering. Stan clenched his hand into a fist when he remembered just days ago, the hopelessness and the despair in Ford’s hospital room had been almost suffocating. But then this space chick, Jheselbraum, came out of nowhere late one night, offering a way to save Stanford. At first Stanley was ready to attack her, but the glance he took at his brother to make sure if stopped him cold. It was hard for Stanford to keep his eyes open for long, but there they were wide open and showing nothing but utter peace as he gazed upon the alien, who slowly took a step towards the bed.

”I desire nothing but to help Stanford.” She had spoken in a soft tone, Stanley feeling a wave of calm wash over him.

”How? There’s nothing anyone can do.” He replied cautiously, slowly settling back down into his seat as the…woman?...went to his brother’s side, a wane look on her face. All seven of her eyes were focused on Ford’s face, the researcher’s gaze on her face until he had used up all of his strength. She let out a sigh that sounded more like a musical tone than anything else to Stanley, placing a gentle hand on top of his head.

”I have the equipment necessary to help your brother,” She began, Stan’s heart almost soaring at the hope that suddenly swept through the room. ”but I cannot complete this operation in your dimension.”

”What does that mean?” The suspicion was clear in Stan’s voice, the man standing when she waved her hand at the wall across from Stanford’s bed. A circular portal began to form, the wall looking as if it was reflecting in a pool of water the way it warped around the portal. ”What the hell?!”

”I am taking your brother to my home for the operation.” The woman explained, the tall alien woman glancing at Stanford’s arm with a slight look of disgust at the IV in his left arm. Stanley nearly jumped the alien woman when she neatly pulled it out, the alien shaking her head at the angered man. It wasn’t hard for her to lift the emaciated man into her arms, the younger twin instantly there to take Ford’s lack hand as the woman began to walk towards the portal.

”Where are we going?” He asked, his tone and stance showing Jheselbraum that he was going to accompany the two whether or not she wanted him to. He felt nervous as they approached the realty-warping tear, but one look at Stanford steeled his nerves as he followed the alien through the tear. To Stanley it felt like his whole body was tingling, his stomach doing a bit of a flip-flop when there was a moment they were suspended in the air, but it was all over in a split second. Stanley didn’t even realize they had arrived, his gaze on his brother who had opened his eyes at some point. They seemed to be shining as he took in the dimension they were in, Jheselbraum mumbling something in an alien language as she started for the room Stanley found himself outside of at this very moment.

”Wait here, and when I return your brother will be healed.” She had stated before closing the door, Stanley frowning as he resumed his pacing back and forth. He hated this uncertainty, he hated the fact he couldn’t be there to hold Stanford’s hand or just be there to make sure nothing went wrong, even if he had no idea what that would look like anyways. A few hours later he heard the door open, the man glancing over to see the alien woman from before giving him an inquisitive look.

“Is he alright?” Stanley couldn’t say the words faster, his heart stopping as he waited for an answer.

“Yes, Stanford will heal. However, your brother will not be the same that you remember.”

“W-What?” Stan felt fear grip him again, following Jheselbraum inside the room slowly.

“There was some nerve damage I could not fix I’m afraid.” Her tone was regretful, Stanley feeling some of the fear ebb away when he was lead to the bed where his brother was resting peacefully. “Your brother will regain most of his mobility, but I fear that he will no longer be able to walk without assistance.”

“What do you mean?” Stan asked with a slight frown, easing himself onto the bed beside his brother. “Will he need like, I dunno, a cane or something? Or…a wheelchair?”

“I believe a cane.” She reassured him quickly, Stanley sighing in slight relief. “Your brother is very resilient.”

“Yea, he sure is huh?” Stanley laughed wanly, thought a frown still marred his face. “I just…I can’t believe this happened to him, after all he did to get rid of Bill…after everything that happened. It just isn’t fair.”

“I am very sorry.” Jheselbraum replied softly, placing a gentle hand on Stan’s shoulder.

“Yea…I know.” He replied quietly, the alien being leaving the brothers alone soon enough, something Stan was grateful for. There was a balcony attached to the room, the exhausted younger twin leaning against the railing to study the dimension this woman lived in. It truly was beautiful, and Stanley counted himself lucky to see such a thing. The worry for his twin however took some of that beauty away, Stan taking a seat next to the bed with a heavy sigh, resuming his daily routine of watching over his older brother.

[siodymph]

Stanchez Appreciation Day 4

Now for Day 4: Vices and Virtues (nearly a week late lol), Stan and Rick wake up at the end of a crazy bender.

And just another reminder I'm taking stanchez requests until March 24th. Two days left! So if you have any ideas for stories don't be shy!

You can read under the cut, or over on my AO3! Enjoy!

Stan didn’t know how he’d gotten caught up in all this again. Sure it was fun while it was happening but now that the rush and the excitement had finally worn off he was left with a hot pink glow still pulsing in the sides of his vision, limbs that felt like cinderblocks and a gross vomit after-taste in his mouth as he stared blankly at the grimy wall above him.

He’d sworn never to do this again. Back in 1979 he’d made a promise never to go on another bender for as long as he lived. After what happened he couldn’t even smoke without getting a phantom-like muscle memory for all the crazy shit he and Rick had gotten into. Never again he’d said. And yet years and years later he’d gone against all his better instincts.

And now here he was stuck on this bed god-knows-where feeling like pure shit.

The whole weekend was still a blur. They had started out just hanging out over at Fidd’s for a little get-together, just him Rick Ford and Fidds, when Rick pulled out a baggy with trexar powder. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d seen anything like that in years. And this stuff had been especially pure, none of the crappy stuff he and Rick could still barely afford back in their day. He’d been so certain Rick was bluffing, no one could afford trexar, and nobody would be stupid enough to just carry it around! But then Rick just pulled it all out and- and then…

Ford had been there too. Stan was pretty sure at least because he remembered watching with utter shock how Ford snorted up the stuff like a champ without coughing. He remembered the idea being so hilarious to him, that his nerdy, goody-two-shoes bro who refused to ever drink or smoke, his total square of a brother could now do lines of trexar without flinching. He laughed so much he ended up being the one coughing, granted that might have just been the trexar.

It all went to shit after that. They’d left Fidd’s place at some point, hopped over to Blitz and Chips. Maybe? Where ever it was it was painfully neon. He could only remember flashes for the most part. Wandering through an alien city with purple and pink trees. Struggling to crawl out of a booth in the corner of a club. He swore he saw Carol at some point. One clearer image in his head was of all four of them beating the shit out of a pair of Ricks who were hitting some Morty’s.

Crap. How long had this bender gone on for? Groaning Stan heaved himself onto his side to get a good look at the motel room he’d waken up in.

It was a small cramped room and their only furniture was two beds. In the bed farthest from him he saw the sleeping figures of Fidds and Ford all cuddled up and out cold. Because he started feeling paranoid he refused to look at anything else until he clearly saw both of their chests’ rise and fall. Trexar could be dangerous to take even as a healthy young person and they were a bunch old farts. What the hell had they been thinking? But the two of them looked alive and only sleeping. If he could of willed himself to move more he would have tried getting up and checking their pluses and coloring too but he still felt like he weighed an extra 500 pounds.

He did check himself though. He didn’t feel over-heated or clammy. His heart was normal. At least as normal as it’d become in his older age. And besides the persistent pink glow along his eyes he was doing pretty ok. The pink was an annoying post-high side-effect though. It was like an itch he couldn’t reach, like if he just turned his head enough he’d see the pink lamps that were shining directly in his face but he knew there was nothing really there. Luckily though if his past experiences were anything to still go by the pinkness should fade out within a few hours. Hopefully.

Trying to put his mind off the pink he rolled back over on the bed towards where he assumed he’d find Rick. Only to find empty rumpled bedsheets that were slightly warm.

He was just beginning to worry when he realized the glass sliding door next to his bed was wide open. The curtains had been pulled shut so barely any light leaked through, but they still waved and curled with a breeze. And the ambient city noise spilled into the room much louder than they had any right to. God dammit he hoped Rick was out there. He hated to think of anything terrible, but he had no idea where Rick was and they had all been so out of it last night…

Ignoring the aches in his back and hands he rolled over and struggled to sit up and get out of the bed. Then staggering to the door he ripped the curtain away. Only to be greeted by the sight of Rick leaning on the edge of the balcony and aimlessly staring out at the city. The sun hadn’t risen just yet, but the sky was all orange and yellow, and the pink Stan still kept seeing made it look even nicer.  

“Hey!” Stan said, coughing a bit as his voice felt dry and hoarse.

Rick turned to look at him, there were dark bags under his eyes that made him look even older than he already was. Not that Stan thought his current state would be any better.

“Yo! How-how’re you feeling, Lee?”

Stan shrugged. “Eh, there’s still this pink in my eyes. Feel like I got hit by a truck. But besides that I’m fine I guess.”

Rick laughed a little and pulled Stan close, looking at his eyes. “Yeah, your eyes are still a little dilated. Are the nerds up yet?”

“Nah, they’re both out cold.”

Stan turned back just to make sure and yes they were, the only difference was he heard the two grumbling as they pulled the bedsheets over their heads to block out the light. Oh yeah, the curtains. Stan pulled them shut behind him and fully stepped out onto the small balcony. Now that they had some semi-privacy Stan decided to ask a question that had him wondering ever since that start of this bender back at McGucket’s place.

“Hey Rick?”

“Hmmm?”

“Where the hell did you get your hands on high-quality trexar? I mean, back in the day we thought we were lucky even to get the crappy stuff.”

Rick hummed but didn’t lookback at him as he looked at the morning sky. “I got it as a thank-you from a buddy of mine a while back. ‘Thought now was a good point to crack it open. Trexar’s one of those things you gotta do with a group, ya’know? It’s-It ain’t no fun to do it alone.”

“That’s a good point… I guess.” Rick’s answer barely answered any of Stan’s question. Rick had a lot of friends from a lot of dimensions. But Rick obviously wasn’t planning on divulging any more info so Stan dropped the subject for now.

However as he opened his mouth again he was forced into a rough bout of coughing. His throat burned from his lungs to the inside of his nose and tears stung his eyes. As the coughs died down he realized he was leaning over the balcony. And Rick’s hand was steady on his back. “H-hey, you alright babe?”

Stan had to clear his throat and spit down onto the parking lot before he could get his voice back. Even then when he spoke it still hurt. “Yeah, I’ good. Just need to drink something.”

Before he could fully comprehend what was happening, something silver was pushed towards his face. “Here, I got- there’s a little left in there-“

Stan took the silver thing and as it sat lightly in his hands he realized it was Rick’s flask. And there was only a few splooshes of liquid left swishing inside it. And when he took a sip and coughed the knot that had formed in Rick’s inside tightened. Yep, that was vodka. Stan couldn’t believe Rick.

He’d talked to Rick about confronting his drug and drinking problems only three. Once when they were young. Stan had wanted them to quit together. The second point had been after he’d gotten hitched. He would head out to Gravity Falls so his wife and Beth wouldn’t see him drink, like seriously binge drink, enough to knock out a horse. And the other time was just a few years ago. And every time he’d gotten similar answers.

“Rick?” He asked uneasily. “Have you been drinking this entire time? On top of the trexar?”

Rick swiped back the flask and hid it into his coat pocket. “So what? I know what I’m doing. I just needed something to take that edge off. You know how aggressive the trexar can get-“

“Oh my god Rick, how the hell are you not dead yet?” Stan groaned into his hands.

Rick just laughed it off, smiling in a way that didn’t reach his eyes. “Ain’t that the fucking question of th-of the day.”

Stan just sighed and Rick ignored it. He would never pressure Rick, or force him to do anything he wouldn’t, or couldn’t do. But it still didn’t stop him from worrying about him. At least they weren’t pulling stunts like this every weekend, like they had when they were younger. At least parties and benders like these had become one-off scenarios. But that small reassurance did nothing to stop Stan's worries. About the future, what would happen to himself, what would happen to Rick...

While Rick kept laughing, they both watched the sun finally creep off the ground and rose above the cityscape. But the knots in Stan’s insides refused to budge.