#Other than Dipper wondering where Bill is one night

[tswwwit]

i bet bill has beef with santa

That seems entirely up his alley, yeah!

[thicctails]

△Early Morning Comfort△

Get Better Children won the poll (I'm not surprised, y'all love those tragic triangles, huh?) so here's a little piece about one of the times Scalene and Euclid had to take care of Dipper and Mabel!

The babies were crying again.

Scalene watched the doorway even as she glided across the walls of the nursery, listening for the sound of footsteps. They almost never came, especially not lately, but she had to be sure before she decided to pull herself into the 3D plane. It was something she'd like to avoid, if she could.

Unfortunately, the hallway remained silent, and little Mabel and Mason continued to wail, their pudgy faces scrunched up in discontent. Scalene looked over at her husband and found that he was looking right back at her. They shared a knowing look, and Scalene took a deep breath.

The transition from the second dimension to the third was anything but fun. The red triangle couldn't help but wince as she felt her flesh and exoskeleton rush to adapt to the sudden change, muscles and bones knitting together to keep her organs from spilling out onto the floor. Her injuries screamed and flickered rapidly, small droplets of blood welling up around the edges. Then, without any fanfare, it was over, and the pain was replaced by a sense of vertigo that almost sent her toppling over.

After a few moments of breathing and readjusting to the feeling of being three dimensional, Scalene floated towards the twins, peering down into the crib. Euclid was already trying to soothe Mabel, so she focused her attention on Mason, her little Dipper. Using her one remaining hand, she gently ran her fingers through his wispy hair, shushing him softly. She was beginning to wonder if this would be another night where their more human forms were needed, but the little boy began to settle when he cracked a sleepy eye open and saw the loving face of his caregiver.

His twin wasn't far behind, content to simply gnaw on Euclid's hat, which she had somehow managed to grab. Her husband merely crinkled his eyes in affectionate amusement, happy to have appeased the infant.

"They're so easy to settle." Scalene mused aloud as she gently traced the constellation birthmark beneath her thumb. She looked towards the door again, a glowing pulse of angry crimson flashing across her form for a moment, "I don't know why they even bothered to have offspring if they didn't want to care for them. They were blessed with twins, yet you would think them childless."

"I'm not sure they meant to reproduce, my darling. They seem to be rather young compared to the other parental humans we've seen." Euclid replied, gently tucking a soft blanket around Mabel, who wrapped a wrinkly fist around his hand. Euclid's eyes sparkled, and he let out a quiet hum, "Still, that's no excuse to neglect these two little stars. I wish they would find someone more suited to care for them."

"As do I." Scalene sighed, "They deserve much more than what they've got, more than we can give them."

A comfortable silence settled over the nursery, broken occasionally by the twins' babbling. As the clock ticked quietly in the corner, Mabel and Mason settled back down to sleep, leaving the two Euclideans as the only awake beings in the house.

"Do you think Bill would have liked them?"

Scalene startled slightly at the question and turned towards Euclid, who was gently petting Mabel's head as he eased his hat free from her grasp, unused to hearing her husband bring up their son. It was a painful topic for both of them, and it was rare for his name to be spoken aloud.

Scalene pondered the question, thinking about how her little stargazer had been in his youth, and how he'd been before... The accident. He'd been bright, curious, creative and more than a little mischievous. He'd been different, special, though not many had seen it that way. All he'd wanted was to show them the stars.

She looked down at Mason's birthmark and remembered the awe she'd felt when she realized that the boy had been marked by the stars.

"Yeah," she managed to rasp out, "I think he would have."

[asterkiss]

4. "Just remember if we get caught, you're deaf and I don't speak English" with Mabel and Bill please?

4. Remember if we get caught, you’re deaf and I don’t speak English.” Highschool!AU time! Because why not? This... took on a life of its own. Have some MaBill makeouts. Nothing too raunchy but teen rated.

- BREAK IN

'Hold this.’

Mabel almost dropped the backpack as the blond threw it in her direction. She grunted, holding it with both arms as he began fiddling with the door lock before them.

‘Jeez, what do you have in this thing?’ she said, eventually dropping it to the floor between her feet. ‘You’re worse than Dipper with his millions of books.’

His face soured at that even as his gaze remained focus on the door lock. ‘Rule one for tonight, don’t bring up Pine Tree.’

‘Why? Because he beat you on the maths test?’

He shot her a dark look, and she smiled brightly. ‘Kidding, kidding.’ She didn’t want to piss him off and have him stop helping her.

He regarded her for a moment longer before resuming his actions. A moment later there was an audible click and he stood up straihgt. ‘Alright, we’re in.’

The pair entered through the door, walking into the high school which was eerily quiet and empty in the dead of night. They’d come through a back door leading into the end of a corridor on the first floor.

Mabel pulled out her flashlight except his hand came out and plucked it out of her grasp. ‘Hey!’

‘No lights, idiot,’ he said, and she could just make out his stern expression from the light still filtering in from outside through the open door.

‘Well how are we meant to see?’ she asked as he closed the door behind them, plunging them into complete darkness.

‘Give it a second, your eyes will adjust. Don’t you know anything?’

Mabel frowned, not appreciating the jabs he kept shooting at her. Then again, Candy had warned her that Bill Cipher was an asshole when she mentioned she would be asking him for help.

‘I am sorry I can’t help you Mabel, but I am too ill to get out of bed. If you really want to fix things, you should go to Bill Cipher in my computing class. He is an A-Grade asshole but when it comes to computer hacking he is second best to me. Make sure you tell him that when you ask him for help.’

So she had. And he’d gotten really annoyed, insulting Candy and stating he’d help her out just to prove he was number one. Mabel wondered why it was the smartest guys that were somehow still the dumbest.

‘Rule two, stick by me and don’t go wandering off.’

They began to walk down the corridor, their footsteps echoing throughout the empty building. Her eyes did eventually adjust and she could make out his shilouette walking ahead of her.

‘Sooo, any other plans for tonight?’ she asked, disrupting the quiet atmosphere. ‘Other than breaking in with me, I mean.’

‘Eating babies and kicking some puppies.’

'Huh?’ Mabel looked at the back of his head in bafflement before a second passed. ‘You’re messing with me.’

‘You could tell?’

‘Do you act like a dick to everybody?’

‘Yep, it’s fun! You should try it.’ He glanced over his shoulder as they walked past a window, his face briefly allumianted and revealing the amusement dancing in his eyes. ‘I bet the old codgers in this place would have a hernia if you suddenly switched it up and told them to fuck off.’

‘I’m not going to do that!’

He shrugged, resuming his attention forward. ‘Have it your way, be boring.’

‘I’ll be nice!’

‘Same thing.’

>

>

>

They eventually found their way to the teachers office, where Bill pulled out his laptop from his bag and conncted himself to a computer. Mabel stood behind him, swaying on the spot as she watched him do... well, whatever it was you needed to hack in.

'Are you in yet?’ she asked after several minutes.

‘No.’

More minutes passed by.

‘Now?’

‘No.’

More minutes.

‘What about now-’

‘Do you ever shut up?’ he asked, shooting her an irritated stare.

Mabel blinked back at him. ‘Not really. I drive my brother up the wall.’

Bill glanced back down at his laptop. ‘You and your brother are both annoying in different ways.’

Before she could respond a light suddenly flashed through the door and they both froze as the sound of footsteps drew near. Bill cursed, closing his laptop and plunging the room into darknesss once again. He dropped to the floor beneath the desk, grabbing her arm as he yanked her down alongside. She released a small yell of surprise at the abruptness of it, the sound piercing through the air before he could slap a hand over her mouth.

‘Hey! Who’s in there!?’

Bill swore under his breath, his warm hand still covering her mouth. There wasn’t much space under the desk, and she was practically kneeling in his lap.

As the door to the room began to creak open, he whispered in her ear. Mabel shivered as his lips brushed against her, his breath fanning over her skin. Being all alone in the dark with a guy was kinda exciting.

But then she reminded herself who it was and quickly shoved those thoughts aside. Down girl. 

‘Rule three: if we get caught, you're deaf and I don't speak English,’ he hissed. 

They remained silent as the security guard walked through the room in the dark, his flashlight meandering over the desks and flooring. As the light shone on their side of the room, it lit up their positions briefly and she flinched as it revealed just how precarious their positon was. His face was inches from her own, and the dancing shadows cast by the moving light only served to highlight his features. His hands were still on her, one covering her mouth (almost as if he didn’t trust her to be quiet) and the other gripping her elbow and was it her, or was it suddenly warm in here?

They both stared at one another, her eyes wide in panic and his scrutinising as he regarded her expression. 

The light eventually went away, but she knew he was there. Her heart beat rampantly against her ribcage, willing the guard to hurry up and leave so they could move.

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, the door closed. Mabel pulled herself away with a gasp, taking in a deep gulp of air she didn’t realise she’d been holding in.

But then, just as she was about to stand she heard the door open - again!?

Bill’s grip on her arm tightened, and she felt his hand reaching around her head as he tugged her back towards him.

He covered her mouth again before she could make a sound, but this time he didn’t use his hand.

Mabel’s mind internally screamed as she felt the unmistakable sensation of his mouth over her own. What, what, what!? Whaaaaaaaat!? Was she dreaming right now? Was this a hallucination? What. Was. Happening!?

As his hand left her elbow to snake around her waist, he tugged her closer so she was pressed flush against him. She would have gasped if she was able, but instead he took the opportunity of her lips parting to plunge his tongue into her mouth.

Into. Her. Mouth.

Oh my god. She was defintiely dreaming. This didn’t happen. Her mind was melting, all thoughts turning to goo and dripping away until there was nothing left behind except the feel of his lips against hers. 

Wow, he was a really good kisser.

‘There’s nothing in here, Ian. I checked.’

‘You sure?’

She froze at the sound of two voices, her mind returning somewhat to reality as she became aware of the guards standing in the door. Bill pulled his lips away and she thought he was stopping to listen to the security, but instead she felt something wet against her bare neck as his lips brushed over her skin. She jumped, eyes wide in the darkness as her heart threatened to burst out of its ribcage. She could feel a tight sensation coiling in her stomach, lips pressing together to contain a whine and when he began to suck on her skin she gasped. Was he giving her a freaking hickey?

‘What was that?’

‘What was what?’

Both of his hands grabbed her face as his mouth crashed against hers again, and she squeezed her eyes shut as she kissed him again. Oh look at that, she was kissing him back. When had that happened? I mean, could you blame her? There was only so much hot and heavy a girl could take from an attractive guy (yes, he was attractive, she could admit that!) before she gave in.

‘Be quiet,’ he growled between kisses, and although he meant it as a warning the deep voice made her stomach flip. 

She wasn't sure how long she sat there making out with Bill Cipher, it felt like forever but in reality it was probably only a couple of minutes.

Her mind was completely frazzled when he finally pulled away leaving her dizzy. Her lips felt swollen, her hair unkempt, and she was pretty sure she'd have a hickey on her collar bone come morning.

'All right, they're gone,' Bill said, grabbing his laptop as he resumed his seat and acted normal. He opened the device up, powering it back on. 'It should take me long to get in and out.'

Mabel looked up at him from the floor, all coherent thoughts long gone.

'Uh....' Were they just meant to act like that hadn't happened?

He peered down at her, and she noted how tusseled his hair was from where she'd run her hands through it several times. Other than that, he didn't seem worked up one bit.

'What class is it you want changing?' he asked, arching an eyebrow as he looked back towards the screen.

Mabel blinked, trying to force her mind into gear again. 'Class?'

'Yeah.'

Mabel stared at him for several seconds before finally struggling to put a sentence together. 'But I'm not trying to change my grades.'

Bill paused in his movements, slowly dropping his gaze back down towards her. '...Then why the hell did you want me to hack into the school database?'

Mabel paused. She'd orchestrated this whole thing to get into the student files and find out some information on one of the most popular guys in the year. She figured if she knew his birthday and stuff like that she'd have a shot over the other girls.

(Not unhinged and stalker-ish at all).

But that seemed stupid now. And honestly, Mr. Whats-His-Face was long since cast from her thoughts curtesy of the fella in front of her.

Yeah, there was no way she could admit the truth now.

'Kidding, ha!' She forced a laugh. 'Of course I want you to change my grade for, uh..... maths?'

Bill looked fowards. 'Maths, huh?' A moment later. 'Wow, you really suck at this. I ain't putting it too high or that'll be suspicious. A passing C will do ya, right?'

'Yeah...'

Bill worked away and Mabel pinched herself on the arm but no dice, this apparently wasn't a dream.

What the heck?

>

As they left the building behind and walked down the streets, she observed the boy from the corner of her eye.

'Sooo, are we not going to talk about what happened?'

'Hm?'

'I'm talking about the smoochville that happened back there!' she cried, not able to hold it in anymore. She stepped in front of him, jabbing a finger in his direction. 'You stuck your tongue down my throat!'

Bill blinked. 'You didn't seem to mind.'

'Th-That's not the point,' she replied, face red. 'Why did you do that?'

He paused for a moment, appearing to consider her question. 'Three reasons, I guess.'

'Three?'

'Yup. First of all, I know it would piss off Pine Tree if he found out I swapped spit with his twin sister.'

'Wha-' Mabel's face turned even redder this time, but from anger. But before she could yell, he steamed on.

'Second, to keep you quiet.'

Mabel's face twisted, anger rising. She was going to punch him in the face.

'And thirdly,' Bill said, suddenly leaning closer with a wry smile. She scowled as they stood eye to eye, hands clenched at her sides. He remained unphased by her obvious malice however, reaching out to push a lock of hair behind her ear. 'Because I wanted to.'

'You asshole-'

'I might wanna do it again even,' he tumbled on, straightening up as he leaned away.

Mabel faltered at that. 'Huh?'

'If that's alright with you,' he added, winking.

Her mind had short circuited again. She looked up at him in bewilderment. 'Why?' she asked, eyebrows drawing together as her expression became pinched. 'To piss off my brother?'

'Well that can be a bonus,' he replied casually with a shrug. 'Main reason is I think you're attractive and liked kissing you.' He arched an eyebrow. 'Is that good enough for you?'

'Uh...' Mabel was caught off guard. Usually she was the one coming on to guys in a forward manner, not the other way around. 'Only if you don't tell Dipper.' Not only would her brother freak that she was making out with his arch-nemesis, but that way she knew he wasn't fooling around with her just for the sake of sticking it to her brother.

He thought over her words for a moment, before grinning and reaching out a hand. 'You got yourself a deal.'

'Sure?' She took his hand, shaking on it. This was bizarre.

'See ya tomorrow,' he brushed past her and walked away into the night, leaving her alone with only her thoughts for company.

The girls were not going to believe this.

[ckret2]

Since Dipper is the one most likely to get backstory out of Bill, did he ever come across Flatland (as in, the book)?

Dipper's the one most likely to ask the questions that get the terrifying answers that Bill doesn't realize reveal a bit too much; but I think Bill would more freely share dry unemotional biographical details . He's already told Ford he comes from the second dimension, and he mentions Edwin Abbot Abbot  when asked in the out-of-canon AMA about his origin—so I think it doesn't take much prying for him to describe where he comes from. (And in an earlier ask about this AU, I cracked a joke about him cheating at cards to coerce the family into watching Flatland for movie night.)

All of which is to say, I'm sure Dipper knows about the book Flatland—Bill's probably name dropped it—but to everyone's surprise except Bill's, it's Mabel who actually sits down and reads it first. By the time Dipper gets a crack at the book, Mabel's made a shapesona.

(This is Mabel's shapesona. Bill calls it the most hideously disfigured man he's ever seen.)

Keeping with the theme I've got going here of "Bill and Mabel are actually scarily alike and the more they notice that the more they get invested in figuring each other out": Bill is Mabel's new terrifying friend who might destroy reality, but is pretty fun when he isn't doing that or hurting her family, and MAYBE he could be talked out of wanting to do that at all! She wants to know where he came from and what made him the way he is. Dipper is driven by academic curiosity and a need to understand his enemy, but Mabel is driven by the 🌈🌟POWER OF FRIENDSHIP🦄💞!!!

So yeah she'll jump on this dry hundred-something-year-old book about MATH just to learn a bit more about Bill.

The first the rest of the household learns she's picked up the book is when she stomps into the kitchen in her pajamas ready to RIOT because the Flatlanders banned colors. "That's like banning fashion! Or HAPPINESS!"

(Bill reassures her that the book's mostly satire and color was legal in his dimension. "And anyway, they're all dead now!")

Dipper picks up the book the second Mabel finishes it. He probably gets a bit more out of the mathematical thought-experiment side of it, but not by a whole lot; Mabel might not be a nerd but she is smart, and most of the math concepts explained in the book are the kind of thing they're about to hit in school in anyway.

Mabel connects more to the story emotionally. Dipper interacts with the 1D King's disbelief of the 2nd dimension with the understanding that it's a metaphor to help a 3D reader grapple with their own disbelief of the 4th dimension, but Mabel interacts with it on the level of "the point king is stupid not to believe in lines, the line king is stupid not to believe in squares, the squares are stupid not to believe in spheres, and the sphere is stupid not to believe in 4D shapes!!" (Bill, deeply amused: "YEAH, YOU TELL 'EM, SWEATERS!")

Of course, Ford's read Flatland too, decades ago. He and Dipper can talk in depth about the mathematical concepts (which Dipper appreciates, because watching Mabel go on with Bill about the social side of the book is making him feel pretty left out). Ford helps explain some of the geometric concepts that are a bit beyond Dipper's 13-year-old education, and talks about his own personal experiences trying to interact with higher and lower dimensions—which are all a lot messier than the book would suggest.

But at night when the adults (and alien) aren't around, Dipper and Mabel have quiet conversations about the politics in the book—the sexism, the classism, the... shape-ism? the anti-intellectualism, the political imprisonments, the medical mutilations, the infanticide, the tyranny... And they wonder how much of it is just a human's fiction to make an interesting sci-fi book, and how much really does describe the world Bill came from.

Stan hasn't read the book and fell asleep during the movie.

[callipraxia]

The Leftbehinders

Wanted to write something like this for...I don't even know how long? So hurrah for a vaguely applicable prompt!

Summary: During Weirdmageddon, Stan fears the worst for his family. Then his brother's ex-friend shows up with a pack of refugees and somehow makes him feel even worse.

Text:

Where are they?

Stan had tried not to think about it. He’d tried, in fact, to think about almost literally anything else. The problem, though, was how little else there really had been to think about since the end of the world. He’d been able to wander through the museum as though he was giving a tour - but since there were no tourists, the only thing worse than hearing his footsteps echo off the ceilings was hearing his voice do so when he spoke to the empty air. He’d found dozens of things that needed repair - but Soos never answered when Stan shouted for him. He’d even tried going to bed, hoping to sleep and wake up to find this had all been a nightmare - but that had involved going through his door, which had involved seeing that now-pointless sign forbidding Dipper from trespassing. He’d even gone to the basement, trying to recapture some feeling of control over his life - but without Ford’s first journal waiting for him in the desktop compartment, the basement had managed to feel more horrifyingly empty than it had since the very beginning of his thirty years of nights inside it. And so, again and again, the thought came back to him.

Where are they?

When just not thinking about it failed, he’d tried to convince himself that he knew the answer after all. There were two rooms which he never entered, no matter what. Ford’s room (otherwise known in the daytime, or what would have been the daytime, as the break room) and the attic room the twins shared - those two doors he never opened. He walked up to them, sure. Stood outside them. Put his hand on the doorknobs. Rested his forehead against the wood. Cried, a couple of times. But he never, ever opened them. He knew that Dipper and Mabel and Soos and Ford weren’t on the other sides of them, that they might never again be on the other sides of them - but he couldn’t bring himself to confirm it. And so he went on worrying, wondering….

Where are they?

It would have been bad enough, just not finding Soos where he was supposed to be - but Ford and Dipper and Mabel, he had thought they already were here. When the sky had broken apart and the goat had become a mammoth, Stan had run into the house through the back door, slamming the door behind him. He had heard the front door slam at the same moment, and when he had turned around, it had been to see Ford bolting toward the basement while Dipper ran up the stairs to the attic, where Stan assumed Mabel had been. He couldn’t say for sure, of course, because he hadn’t seen her with his own eyes, but Dipper and Ford - 

I saw them! They were right here! They were safe! So where are they now, and why aren’t they here anymore?!

He hadn’t heard the door the next time - had he? He didn’t think he had, but maybe he just didn’t want to remember. What he couldn’t forget, though, was the moment he’d finally decided to stomp downstairs and demand to know what was going on…only to find the basement empty. When he’d started shouting around the house, shouting all their names…only to be answered by silence. When he’d first walked up to those doors, put his ear against them praying he’d hear something to suggest they were inhabited, only to find there was…nothing. 

Eventually, he’d put a few pieces together about what had happened - had figured out that that triangle thing, Bill, the one which Stan had a very personal interest in de-Euclidianizing for the things it had done to Ford and Dipper and for the worse things it had planned to do to them, had come to Earth. Eventually, he’d been unable to help but realize what that meant. Ever since, every time he’d passed a mirror, he’d seen someone else’s reflection and he’d promptly broken the glass.

Of course Ford didn’t have the sense to stay in here where it was safe. Of course he didn’t. He had to go fight that damn thing, didn’t he? Had to show it, once and forever, show it which of them was stronger, show it that he wasn’t a pawn, a victim, whatever - so of course he ran out there to die, and automatically made the past thirty years of my life not matter, since he just had to go get himself killed a month later. Typical. That jerk. But that wasn’t enough. Oh, no. It couldn’t be enough to just get himself killed. No, he had to let Dipper follow him, didn’t he? For the same stupid reasons, probably. They both had to prove they were freakin’ heroes, and now they’re freakin’ corpses. And Mabel - oh, God, Mabel - 

Even if Mabel had had enough sense to realize how stupid the mission was (which was doubtful in and of itself), Stan had known at once that there was no way she’d have allowed Dipper to go alone. No way, no how. It was as unlikely as it would have been for Stan to have allowed Ford to go off and die on his own back when they’d been twelve. No, it had all made a sickeningly clear picture: Mabel had followed Dipper, and Dipper had followed Ford, and Ford, damn him, Ford probably hadn’t batted an eye at leading two children into his private war against the Dorito demon. And now - 

I don’t know that they’re dead. They could be alive. They could have - I don’t know - found some new voodoo and they could be out there building an army right now. They could think I’m dead, for all I know, and maybe that’s why they don’t come home - 

He’d told himself that, again and again. It had never really started to sound any more convincing, though.

Somewhere around the millionth time he’d looked out the window, though, something had happened which had almost, for a few seconds, allowed him to believe it. As he’d looked out into the abnormal parody of a sunset, he’d seen human figures walking toward the Shack, and for one moment, he’d thought - 

Then, of course, he’d gotten a good look at them, but he thought he’d known they weren’t really his family even before he’d flung the door open to get that good look. Once he had, though, there had been no more denying it: none of the people and things outside were parts of his family. They had, however, occasionally been familiar.

Old Man McGucket, town loony-tune, had been at the head of the party, which he had seemingly been leading toward the Shack on purpose. When he had seen Stan, he’d stopped for a moment, and they had just stared blankly at each other. Finally, McGucket had spoken.

“You ain’t Stanford.” 

“Hey, look who’s noticing the obvious these days.” 

He’d thought about telling them all to go find their own apocalypse shelters, but ultimately, he hadn’t had the heart. Not when he’d seen Candy and Grenda with them, and imagined what Mabel would have said, and how could he take in Candy and Grenda and turn away the other kids? Or even McCuckooclock, who seemed incapable of accepting Stan’s curt assertion that Ford wasn’t coming back? The guy - if he was who Stan had put it together that he was, then…he’d always been pathetic, but if he was who Stan thought he was, then ‘pathetic’ was really too mild of a word to describe him. If he was who Stan thought he was, then they had a bond, of sorts, too. They were the losers Ford had left behind. Twice. Each. At least. 

“Stanford tole me about you, once,” McGucket informed him later, sitting across from him in the kitchen while the army of monsters and refugees made itself at home. 

“That so.” 

“Yep. He was drunk offfa his posterior at the time, of course.”

“Of course.” 

“I ain’t remembered this long, you understand.”

“Mm.”

“But if I remembers it right…he didn’t make no whole lot of sense, but as best I can recollect, it seemed like he thought y’all had the psychic twin powers. At least enough that he’d know if…anything real bad happened to you.”

“If he had opinions about the three separate times people tried to murder me, he hasn’t mentioned it since he’s been back in town,” said Stan. 

“But you didn’t die,” said McGucket. 

“Nope. Not yet.”

“So…maybe he was right? You reckon?”

Stan realized, then, what the town crazy was really asking him. McCuckooclock wanted to know if he thought Ford was still alive - or, more specifically, for him to say that he did think Ford was still alive, even though he didn’t. McCuckcooclock wanted him to say that yes, they had enough psychic twin powers that one of them would just Know if the other had died, and for him to then say that Ford hadn’t done that. Because for whatever reason, McCuckooclock, of all the people with no reason to do so, was still, apparently, clinging to belief in Stan’s brother, in the freakin’ hero somewhere out there who’d probably just gotten the rest of everyone Stan considered family killed…and who was probably dead himself, no matter how often Stan told himself that if Ford was really dead, he’d somehow just...Know it. 

“I told myself that for thirty years, McCuckooclock,” said Stan. “Every night, working on his doom portal, trying to get him back - told myself he had to still be alive, because how would I just not know if he'd died?”

“And you was right!”

“No, I wasn’t,” Stan corrected him. “I didn’t know anything then, and I don’t know it now, either. Just because I told myself something doesn’t mean it was true.”

“How do you know?”

Stan looked back out at the unchanging light of Bill’s frozen day. “Because I don’t feel any different than I did then, and this time, I know he’s dead,” he said. “Him and the kids, too. You’ve seen more of that thing than I have, and I saw enough to know it can’t be beat. Bill won, and Ford’s dead through his own stupid fault, and that’s it. Nothing to do now but wait for our turns to get dead too.” 

“You don’t know that,” said McGucket stubbornly. 

“Yeah, well, I do know that I can pick you up with one hand and throw you out of this house if you start telling other people to hope for anything except maybe stretching the brown meat through the rest of the year,” Stan snapped. “If you’re going to invade my supplies, you can at least not prolong everyone’s misery by delaying our communal acceptance of the inevitable, y’know?”

McGucket didn’t say anything…but neither did he go away. Shrugging uncomfortably after a few seconds, Stan opened the refrigerator, carefully ignored half a pitcher of Mabel Juice, and got himself a beer. After a few more seconds, he shrugged again and got McGucket one, too.

“Here’s to me and you, McCuckooclock,” he said, mockingly raising one can toward the wreck of a human being in the other chair. “Here’s to being the cowards who stay alive for a while.”

“Until them that can do better’s able to do it,” said McGucket. 

For one second, Stan sat up straighter and glared at him, ready to explode. Instead, though, he finally slumped again without saying a word, electing to ignore the old man. He was stupid, believing in things - but who was Stan to judge?

[azurenightowl]

Notes on the show Gravity Falls,

written by someone who didn’t watch the show until 2023 but was in the fandom through osmosis because of mutuals and irl friends who watched it. Binged it in a week.

damn it really do live up to the hype

pacifica is a way smaller part of the show than i realised, and candy and grenda have a way larger presence. (not to be like. annoying but. i wonder why the rich white girl is prioritised over the asian girl and the trans-coded girl. hmm. forget the author, this is the real mystery.)

the mystery and romance elements are actually pretty much equally balanced. there’s more romance than i realised; then again, i guess bingeing the show and already knowing the big mysteries (stanford, who is bill, what is his plan, etc.) means that the mystery element seems much smaller because there’s nothing to guess, only evidence that confirms what i know as fact.

i love that emotionally speaking, everyone’s arcs are complete, but there are still some mysteries left hanging. like the axolotl. whats up with that guy?

i kept waiting for the other shoe to drop regarding mabel, but she’s just like… a really optimistic positive person? like she can be annoying but she’s not evil or self-serving or unnecessarily selfish.

compared to dipper, the show is "nicer" to her in that she has less episodes where we focus on one of her personal problems like we do dipper, so her flaws are less explored. this makes her less interesting, and so potentially people go looking for flaws in other places?

most of the times where she’s shown to be concerned about boys over dipper’s problems (eg sock opera) she has like, half a second of deliberation before she does the right thing. she’s 12! and a lot of the time doesn’t have the same information as the viewer does, hence doesn’t have the same sense of urgency.

i kind of get the frustration, especially about the finale and the end of episode 17; personally i think it’s wrong of mabel to ask dipper not to take the opportunity, because adulthood and planning for it is important, as well as following your passion. dipper made the right choice for him (in that moment), and was explicit about still being in contact with mabel. 

HOWEVER mabel is totally entitled to feeling hurt and upset about this! and she was preyed upon by a monster in a moment of weakness; it is a little bit selfish, and a little bit naive, yes, to want summer to last forever. but these are normal, human traits. 

also, it’s very important that she didn’t even know what the snowglobe was when she gave it to ‘blendin.’ she was emotionally distraught and was told that a small trinket no one would miss could make her happy and prevent what she saw as a disastrous future. no one told her—granted she didn’t seek the knowledge out either. no one is at fault for her not knowing the value of the snowglobe.

i really love the depth of the show’s world. by which i mean; we don’t get to see everything. i’ve seen many instances where you see everything, except one thing called "the incident" thats inevitably a recurring joke. here, we get references to a bunch of stuff that never appears onscreen—mabel’s encounters with vampires, dipper fighting a demon bat, the family bonding day that ended with a night in county jail. you get the impression that the characters have rich and full lives outside of this.

this show is SO funny. like—

s2e6, that crack about animators and the fact that they can’t afford stop-motion.

s2e12, talking about the in-universe show they’re watching, there’s a twist where the main character has an identical twin and the characters voice different opinions the writers predict the fandom will have: from "bullshit" to "i predicted that a year ago."

s2e16, stan says "do i look like an amnesiac?" LMAO. i mean not funny but like such fun foreshadowing played off as a joke. 

i got TOTALLY misled about what bill’s personality was like, and i’m so, so pleased. i cannot explain how cool show!bill is. i thought he was--well standard tumblr sexyman. suave and dapper and whatnot.

bill doesn’t actually have that much screen time, but he has so much presence from the triangles everywhere to the effect he has on the characters—and then, you know, the whole finale. but im thinking, especially early on before he’s a named character, the fact that he’s present is really ominous, especially for someone who doesn’t actually know what happens in the show, only that he shows up at some point and starts the apocalypse.

bill just doesn’t care about dipper basically at all and it’s great! you can construct an argument that he cares (in a really fucked up way) for ford, paying him special attention and having spent a lot of time building the portal. mabel, too—the deal they make, he gives her the nicest prison, he didn’t have to, you know? in-show, based on how worried ford+stan are than bill won’t honour his deal to leave the kids alone, you learn he’s not actually bound by the deal. also when he possessed dipper and straight gave him nothing in return. but yeah bill is just off doing his own thing and you really get a sense that he's above all of this. everyone is a pawn to him, he just wants to party!

im getting off track. in all honesty, bill straight doesn’t care for anyone except himself and it’s amazing. no creeping on the 12 year olds—based off fanart i thought there was some sort of rapey vibes, but nope he’s just here to have fun and cause chaos. 10/10.

all in all, even knowing the big mysteries, this was a blast. for people who feel like they won’t enjoy the show because it’s been spoiled, definitely check it out anyway.

[august-anon]

Tickle Monster

sequel to Tickletober 2020 Day 13 - “Wake Up!”

---

Someone on ao3 asked about a sequel to that fic literally in October of 2020, and mentioned it again in Jan of this year, and I’m finally posting this. I am so sorry this took ages, whoever you were, I hope you enjoy this lol

---

Fandom: Gravity Falls

Ship(s): Gen!!!!!!

Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Ford,Mabel,Dipper,Stan, Ler!Ford,Mabel,Dipper,Stan

Word Count: 1720 words

Summary: Dipper and Mabel complete their mission, distracting Great Uncle Ford, with flying colors. Unfortunately for them (and for Stan), Ford knows how to fight back.

[ao3 link]

ALSO: warnings for some light angst in the beginning because apparently i can’t write Ford as not angsty lol

------------------------------------

Ford sighed as he watched Stanley go, that lost, desperate look still in his eyes. He really didn’t know what to do to help him at this point, and that hurt more than Ford had been prepared for.

It seemed that he just kept failing people.

He started this whole thing. He came to Gravity Falls in the first place. He brought Bill into this world. He was foolish and naive and power-hungry enough to listen to Bill’s lies. He built the portal Bill wanted, not considering the dangers. And he failed to protect his family, Stan especially.

And now his own brother could barely remember him.

Ford forced himself out of his thoughts as he moved toward the refrigerator. He said he’d make breakfast, so that’s what he’d do. Eggs could be easy enough, maybe even omelettes? Or perhaps pancakes, they were probably easy, right? They were just flour and eggs… and maybe they had some sugar in them? He’d figure it out.

He let out a bitter smile as happy, childish laughter rang out from the attic. Stan was a far better great-uncle than he was, even with his lapses in memory. It wasn’t really all that surprising to Ford.

Ford hadn’t really made all that much effort to be good with the kids, after all. Yet another failure of his.

He continued to struggle with breakfast, his bowl of pancake batter looking more like foaming grey sludge than anything edible. It seemed his multitudes of knowledge didn’t extend to cooking. He was debating starting over, maybe trying to actually find a recipe somewhere in this old shack, when he heard tiny footsteps thundering down the stairs.

“Great Uncle Ford!” Twin voices rang out.

Ford turned away from the counter, plastering a smile on his face that was probably more of a grimace. Dipper and Mabel slid into the kitchen on socked feet, giddy and giggling. A far cry from the tear-streaked faces he saw when he checked on them at night, making sure they were still there and alive, and finding them curled together in one of their tiny twin beds, clearly shaken by nightmares.

“Hello, kids,” he said. “You’re rather awake for the early hour.”

Mabel gave him a mischievous grin. “We’ve been tasked with distracting you.”

Ford furrowed his brow. “What--”

The two launched themselves at him and Ford’s eyes went wide in shock. He reached out to catch them so that they wouldn’t slip and hit the floor (tile floor and heads did not mix, Ford remembered that well from tussling with Stanley back in the day), but in doing so he overbalanced himself, toppling backwards and taking the kids down with him.

Before he could even begin to process what had just happened, and just what Mabel had meant by distracting him, he had two tiny bodies on top of him, pressing him into the tile. They had matching devilish grins focused on him, and Ford wondered what the hell Stanley had told them, and whether or not he needed to get up and run.

“Grunkle Stan told us about a monster that you might not have in your journals,” Dipper said, leaning forward.

Ford scrunched his face up in confusion. Was this just a distraction, as they said, or was Dipper telling the truth? Just as he opened his mouth to ask for clarification, Mabel leaned forward as well.

“Yeah, yeah! It’s such a cool monster, too! You know what it is?”

Ford shook his head, playing along. “No, what is this monster?” Perhaps if he placated them, he could get back to making breakfast before Stanley came back down and saw his pitiful progress.

Dipper and Mable exchanged an evil glance and grinned down at him. They raised their hands, fingers shaped in claws and wiggling wildly, and Ford felt a spark of recognition run through him. His eyes widened before they even answered.

“The Tickle Monster!” They shouted in unison.

And then, before he could even blink or think to defend himself, he had four tiny hands wiggling into all sorts of sensitive places. Ford tossed his head back against the tile and snickered quietly, trying to keep the worst of his laughter in. He couldn’t let two children best him!

But Mabel’s fingernails were wreaking havoc on the nerves of his ribs and neck, and Dipper’s fingertips digging into his sides and stomach weren’t serving him much better. He forgot how uncoordinated he got when he was tickled, not having been subjected to it since before Stanley got kicked out when they were younger. His hands were flailing everywhere, unable to latch onto either twin and save himself from their playful torture.

“No no no, you’re doing it all wrong,” a voice called out from the entryway. 

Ford felt a mix of dread, excitement, and anticipation fill his belly when he saw Stanley standing there. It only grew when he saw the spark of recognition in his eyes as he stalked closer.

“You gotta do it like this,” Stanley told the kids, and unceremoniously stuffed his hands into Ford’s armpits, scribbling away.

Ford howled, curling in on himself as best he could with two almost-teens still sitting on top of him and Stan looming over top of them all. He cackled madly and he could feel the tears building up in his eyes the longer the playful torment went on. It was so embarrassing, so humiliating, so…

Fun.

It felt kind of nice to let loose and laugh like he was, something he hadn’t done in a long time. The fingers driving him insane left him with no chance to overthink things as he usually did. All he could do was laugh and squirm and gasp for air.

The tickling abruptly halted and Ford sucked in a much-needed breath. He was naive to think it was over, however, because Stanley only grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head before grinning at the kids. A nervous, playful, fluttering feeling filled his stomach, and he shot a look down at the kids.

“Have at it,” Stanley said.

Dipper and Mabel laughed before darting forward, burying their hands into his armpits. Ford was lost to his hysteria once more, only this time it was worse. His hands were pinned, he could even pretend like he was trying to defend himself from their dancing fingers, and he was too weak from laughter to tug his hands back.

Just when Ford was finally reaching his limit, he tilted his head back and made teary eye-contact with Stanley. Stanley gave him a smirk and a wink before releasing his wrists and setting Ford free.

Ford shot up, still laughing, and tackled Dipper and Mabel to the ground, careful to cushion their fall and avoid any injuries.

“Do you know what’s even worse than a Tickle Monster?” He asked, voice hoarse from the laughter his vocal cords were no longer used to.

Dipper and Mabel were giggling and squirming, clearly having picked up on where this was going, but neither made an attempt to escape. They shook their heads.

Ford raised his hands, fingers curled threateningly into claws, just as they had done to him. “A six-fingered Tickle Monster.”

Dipper and Mable squealed as his hands darted forward, the two soon lost to childish shrieks and cackles as he tickled away. The wide grin still hadn’t left Ford’s lips, even as his cheeks and eyes began to dry from his own mirthful tears. He even let out a few more chuckles at particularly silly sounds the kids made.

Maybe he wasn’t such a failure with them, after all.

But there was still one thing missing from their morning full of laughter. Ford turned around, slowing his ticklish assault on the kids, searching out Stanley. He stood at the counter, a new mixing bowl in front of him, making something that looked a lot closer to pancake batter than Ford’s attempt was.

Oh well, can’t win them all.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook,” Ford growled playfully.

Stanley froze, his body tense, and he slowly turned around to face Ford, a nervous smile spreading across his lips. His hands were raised in surrender, and he looked ready to bolt at any moment.

“You were just so sad this morning,” Stanley tried to reason with him, “I thought the kids could help cheer you up.”

Ford raised an eyebrow. “If I remember correctly, you were rather melancholy earlier, as well.”

They stared each other down, trapped in their little stand-off as Dipper and Mabel giggled quietly behind Ford. Then, Stanley tried to bolt, but Ford was much faster, the two of them crashing to the floor in no time. He quickly got Stanley pinned underneath him.

“Any last words?”

Stanley scowled (though Ford could see the amusement dancing in his eyes, so he wasn’t too worried), but Ford never actually gave him the chance to speak. He dug his fingers in, skittering around with no rhyme or reason as he mentally catalogued Stanely’s tickle spots. Eventually, he settled on Stanley’s ribs, the left side, the second rib from the top (that always used to get him screaming), as well as the little patch of skin on the right side on Stanley’s stomach, just a couple inches under his ribcage (that always used to get him begging for mercy). Stanley yelled and burst out into wild laughter, shoving at Ford’s hands but being too weak to stop him.

“You little--” Stanley started to yell through his laughter, but Ford cut him off.

“Ah ah ah, there are children present, Stanley.”

Stanley only cackled louder. Though that could have also been due to the fact that Ford had upped his tickling.

But speak of the devil and he shall appear, for the kids chose that moment to again make themselves known. Dipper attached himself to Ford’s back, shoving his hands into Ford’s armpits and clumsily tickling away. Mabel, on the other hand, launched herself into Stanley’s chest and started scribbling away at his stomach and sides.

Alright, Ford thought. The kids want a tickle fight? I’ll give them a tickle fight. And he dove back into the fray.

Needless to say, breakfast soon became brunch and the Shack was filled with laughter for a long time to come.

[minijenn]

Keys to the Kingdom Preview

So I'm having... a fucking week. Between the Smash reveal and a number of other IRL things, focusing on this chapter has been a bit... tricky. But here's a bit of what I've managed to write so far, enjoy more of Sora interacting with the Mystery Twins idk why but these interactions are really easy and really fun to write ahahah ^_^

***

“Ok,” he says, much to the twins’ shared relief. “I… guess I can make some time to stick with you guys a little while longer.” A little while longer before he can give the heirloom back to Bill, before he can get the reward he so desperately craves. Before he can finally be free.

And really, after waiting this long for that freedom, certainly he can afford to wait just a little bit more.

“Thanks, Sora!” Mabel exclaims warmly, bounding ahead to join her brother. “See, Dipper?” she whispers to him, aside. “I told you we could trust him!”

“Seeing as how he’s the only person we know who can actually get rid of those monsters, it's not like we really have too much of a choice…” Dipper says, though he wears a smile all the same. “But… I guess you weren’t wrong. This time, anyway.”

Sora swallows hard when he happens to overhear this, the sizable knot of guilt already settled in his stomach tightening to an almost oppressive degree. Whatever trust either of the twins might have for something is something he knows he hasn’t earned, something he definitely doesn’t deserve after what he’s just done. As he trails a few paces behind them, his hand drifts down to his pocket, to the heirloom, to reveal his crimes and come clean like he knows he should. And yet… at the same time, he knows he can’t. Not when this is perhaps the last and only chance he has at turning the tide, at undoing what’s been done, at saving his own life. Certainly, if Dipper and Mabel knew just what he’s up against, if they knew everything he’s already lost and still stands to lose, then they’d understand the lengths he’s taking to finally stop it all… wouldn’t they?

“Hey, Sora?” Mabel pipes up, pulling out of his fretful thoughts as they venture back into the woods. The dark path ahead is only sparsely illuminated by the flashlight Dipper had grabbed back at the shack, though that light does little to chase away the oddly ominous aura the forest carries at night. Or at least, an aura that’s even more ominous than the one that had filled it during the day. “I’ve been wanting to ask you for awhile now: what’s that Key thing that Xamnams guy wants you to get so badly?”

“Oh yeah, I was wondering about that too,” Dipper glances back at the older boy. “Is it the same key you fought those monsters with, or is it something different?”

“Oh, um, yeah, it’s different,” Sora nods, more than happy for the distraction this kind of conversation can serve his troubled mind. “It’s a special kind of Key that’s one out of thirteen that my--I-I mean his master has been looking for. And if they get their hands on it first… let’s just say something really… bad could happen.”

“Wait, so that guy isn’t actually your boss?” Mabel asks.

No, of course he’s not, Sora thinks, though the words refuse to leave his mouth. A small burst of pain constricts around his heart, one that feels far too familiar to the point that he doesn’t even think twice about where it could be coming from. That same pain bars him from saying what he really wants to, though this time, it doesn’t force him to say something else against his will. What he’s able to get out instead is still far from anything substantial though. “Uh… w-well, he’s my… I-I, uh… It’s-”

“Let me guess,” Dipper cuts in knowingly. “It’s something else that’s ‘complicated’, isn’t it?”

The most Sora can do is nod, rubbing his arm as he apprehensively glances away from the twins. Mabel’s quick to fill in the newfound silence, however, with a small coo of curious fascination. “Ooo, Sora, you’re such a complex guy!” she grins, a smile that turns a touch coy as she twirls a lock of her hair playfully. “Ya know I’ve always had a thing for men of mystery.”

Naturally, Sora still isn’t quite sure of how to respond to the younger girl’s persistent brand of “unique” flirting. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to as Dipper dryly interrupts. “What, you mean like that ‘mysterious’ guy you dated who turned out to be a bunch of gnomes stacked on top of each other?” he asks, flashing his sister a bit of a teasing smirk.

“Yeesh, I accidentally go out with some creepy gnomes one time and suddenly I never hear the end of it,” Mabel huffs, rolling her eyes. “At least I didn’t spend the entire summer desperately crushing on someone who’s waaaay too old for me.”

“Says the girl who’s literally doing that right now,” Dipper retorts, catching Mabel in the middle of the affectionate wave she’s sending Sora’s way.

“...And your point is?”

As the twins’ next round of insincere bickering kicks off, Sora does his best to try and focus on it, only for his thoughts to drift internally once more. As far as he knows, Xemnas, or any other Organization member for that matter, isn’t anywhere in the immediate vicinity, so how does their power still have such a restrictive hold on him, to the point that he can’t even speak freely? Has he really fallen so far under their sway that he can be forced to do their bidding from a distance? Does he really have so little freedom left that he’s bound to obey them even when not a single one of them is around?

It’s a grim, downright horrifying thought, a reality he knows he ultimately can’t escape from, at least not on his own. He draws in a steadying breath as he gently pats the pocket the glass globe is resting in, shuddering as he feels another wave of its palpable power wash over him. Regardless of whatever it is that globe actually holds, right now, it also holds all of his once-faded hopes, his nearly-dead dreams, his last chance at living the life he longs to lead instead of the life that’s fallen apart all around him. And all it’ll take for him to finally get that life is to take that globe back to its rightful owner, to give it back to Bill so that Bill can give him back everything he’s lost in return.

So that’s exactly what he’ll do. No matter how uncertain his mind and heart alike still are of whether or not he should.

[gfpt-comic]

So. Here goes nothing... (1/?)

(Major spoilers for the comic, but since it won’t update anymore (besides PERHAPS some random comic strips/excerpts without context every now and then, but don’t count on it), I guess it doesn’t matter.)

If you read my answer to the ask posted earlier, you probably know what this post is about. I’ll make a list of every important point I wanted to tackle in the comic, in multiple sections. Be prepared for the long post that awaits you below the cut.

Summary of what was left of Chapter 2

Following their first appearance at the beginning of the chapter, Lolph and Dundgren try to question Blendin, who is staying at a hospital and is still under intense care. They discuss what exactly happened to Blendin in the first place: he was assigned what was supposed to be a routine mission to solve a minor time anomaly in the 21st century, but his time machine exploded when he tried to operate it and he was gravely injured. Dundgren mentions that any normal time device should hardly cause this much damage when malfunctioning, suggesting that Blendin’s level of incompetence is so incredibly high, it somehow managed to make something that shouldn’t be able to explode blow up in his face. On the other hand, Lolph starts to wonder if, exactly because it should be impossible, the accident may have had a reason other than just Blendin’s incompetence. Unfortunately, the accident had consequences so grave on Blendin’s physical health, it seemingly also took a toll on his sanity and questioning him only leaves them with esoteric sentences of dubious credibility.

Blendin: “This is very nice of you… to visit me. There isn’t much time left. I was starting to feel alone, before everything disappears.” Blendin: “Time Baby will succeed… He will free us from this time.”

July 13, 2012 again: back in the gift shop of the Mystery Shack, Wendy and Soos have captured Bill and tied him up to a chair. Wendy starts interrogating him, asking him who or what he is-- throwing in her multiple guesses: the Shapeshifter she defeated with Dipper in the bunker, a paper clone... She doesn’t suspect demon possession or a switch-because-of-the-carpet scenario, however. Bill just keeps trying to break free with little success, without answering; and soon, Stan interrupts them when he enters the gift shop as well, followed by the dozen of tourists he took during his latest tour. Wendy and Soos manage to evade Stan’s obvious questions by pretending they were making a new attraction.

Back in Mabel’s Dreamscape, Mabel encourages Dipper to have some fun with Bill’s powers, but he is scared of messing up because of just how powerful he is; having seen Bill’s powers both in the Mindscape/Dreamscape and in Weirdmageddon when he witnessed the alternate timelines, Dipper knows just how far those powers can go and he isn’t sure he can control them. Still, after some teasing Mabel starts a snowball fight with the surrounding ice cream, and gradually the twins have more and more fun starting with the ice cream, then with the tricks Dipper starts to use. When they take a break, Mabel points out that nothing bad happened, and Dipper grows a bit more confident that he can use Bill’s powers in a way that isn’t dangerous.

Dipper: “I guess it’s easy to do exactly what you want when it literally happens in your mind... Huh.”

Dipper notices it’s almost noon, and Mabel remembers that she was supposed to meet William at Greasy’s Diner for lunch. Mabel is unseasy upon thinking of talking to him again after what happened the day before, and Dipper confirms by showing William’s current whereabouts through a peephole that William seems about as worried as she is. Mabel takes a deep breath, makes sure that she will be able to see Dipper whenever she needs (during the night for sure, perhaps earlier if she asks for it). Still, just before Dipper wakes her up... She has a favor to ask him.

Mabel: “Now that you can do lots of magic stuff and all... Could you do something for me?”

Back in the gift shop, the tourists have left and Bill was untied due to Stan’s confusion over the situation. However, he is forced to stay inside and is stuck sitting by Wendy’s side behind the cashier desk. When Mabel goes through the gift shop to go to the Diner, everyone notices that she made a new sweater -- one with a pine tree symbol on it, no less. Bill is enraged but can’t stop her from leaving.

William has his first face reveal. He is a blonde 13-year-old, and is already waiting worriedly at Greasy’s Diner when Mabel arrives. He immediately apologizes for what happened on the day before.

William: “About yesterday, I... I’m sorry I said your brother was a bad influence. That was uncalled for.”

Mabel: “Yes. Yes it was.”

William is genuinely apologetic, but soon it is revealed that the reason why he thought Dipper and the Mystery Shack were a bad influence was because he doesn’t believe at all in the supernatural. Even if Mabel told him about her adventures, he assumed they were just stories she made up while playing in the Mystery Shack’s museum and never believed them to be true. Mabel tries to convince him by showing him some episodes of Dipper’s “Guide to the Unexplained” -- a series of videos he used to make and post online at the beginning of their summer break upon arriving in Gravity Falls, but stopped making altogether after Summerween. Sadly, the episodes made up until then did not revolve around exceptionally weird anomalies, and aren’t enough to convince William. The only thing William admits to being strange is the fact that every inhabitant of Gravity Falls is “out of their minds.”

Exasperated by William’s absurdly high levels of skepticism, Mabel eventually dares him to go on a forest expedition with her, Candy and Grenda on the next day, just so they can show him pretty much anything in the forest that is out of the ordinary. William strongly refuses and tries to dissuade her to go into the forest at all; he has been personally forbidden by his mother from going anywhere near the forest, and he has also read on the local news that there is currently a predator of unknown origin or species on the loose, which has been notably attacking sheep from the nearby farm. Mabel teases him about the fact that he believes that this creature is real, and suggests that it might be a werewolf for example; but William doesn’t take her seriously, especially because the creature is supposed to fly.

And... This is the part where my script starts getting wonky. I’ve been trying to fill the holes, but sadly it’s proven to be quite difficult, especially now that I know I won’t be drawing it in comic form anyway. Still, the main plot should be precise enough! The holes are mainly just “there should be some filler and/or foreshadowing to what’s coming here”, with little more than just prompts for what could be happening.

Back in the Mystery Shack’s gift shop, Wendy tries to sneakily question Bill, but when Stan asks them where Mabel went and Bill tells him she skipped her restocking duty so she could spend time with William at the Diner, Stan asks him to get her back. Bill happily takes this opportunity to slip out of the Mystery Shack, and have an excuse to bother Mabel at the same time.

Eventually, William is obligated to accept Mabel’s terms and intends on coming so he can at least make sure that the girls won’t put themselves in danger upon visiting the forest on their own.

Bill arrives at the Diner. William, thinking he is meeting Dipper again, tries to make amends for the things he said the previous day and says that he earnestly thinks they can start again on the right foot; Bill sadistically mocks him instead, all the while pretending to be Dipper, just so he can ruin Mabel’s hopes of reconciling William and Dipper. Bill finishes Mabel by forcing her to leave, saying that Stan expects her to work at the gift shop like she was supposed to since the beginning.

Mabel gone, William and Bill start to have a tense conversation; well, tense on William’s part, while Bill is mostly just having a blast driving William mad. The old fanfic that was the first “draft” version of the story has this chapter, which gathers most of the jokes I intended to keep, and at least some of the plot points. I’ll put a warning for awkward English, though. Oh and also, apparently in the old version it was July 3rd and not July 13th, so in the comic the “tomorrow is July 4th so the forest trip can’t happen anyway” excuse wouldn’t work.

About the Quetzalcoatlus thing: here, have some fun dinosaur size comparisons & history following my latest research on what the pterodactyl from S1E18: Land Before Swine.

William: “And how would you even know all that?”

Bill: “Because I ate Leonardo da Vinci.”

William: “. . .”

William: “… It must have been some VERY cryptic way for you to say that it was one of those conspiracy things mentioned in the old book supposedly written by a genius that you keep reading passionately every day. Right?”

Bill: “Oh, so your brain CAN work sometimes!”

Bill gets bit by a soothquito. His bite marks spell “FHOASE CORECULLY“

Upon leaving the Diner, they both see someone being kidnapped by a member of the Blindeye Society. William insists they immediately go warn the police, but Blubs and Durland prove to be ineffective as ever. Bill slips in one or two facts about the secret society, but William dismisses them completely as other random insane things Bill just happens to say all the time for trolling purposes.

Mabel is back in the Mystery Shack and starts her restocking duty, but her mind is clearly elsewhere. She starts mumbling to herself, but is interrupted by the decapitated head of Larry King who just happened to be in the vents nearby. Mabel isn’t surprised at all to see he survived, and when Larry King starts "interviewing” her about the issues she was mumbling about, she complies. Some time later, while Soos is cleaning up the floor, he overhears Mabel complaining about Bill being a jerk on purpose and making Dipper seem like a terrible person, and ends up hearing pretty much the whole story that way, without Mabel knowing. Soos proceeds to tell Wendy what he heard, helping them putting two and two together-- all the while understanding why Mabel didn’t warn them, and why they should stay silent as well. They decide not to tell Mabel they know her secret; but when Bill comes back later, just as Wendy’s shift was about to end, she has just one thing to tell him:

Wendy: “Tomorrow 6PM. My place.”

Night time; Bill is annoyed, but not very surprised by the fact that Soos is sleeping with him  for the night, in the room on the ground floor where Dipper had relocated. Bill is at least glad he no longer has to pretend to be Dipper around Wendy and him.

Soos proceeds to ask Bill what his intentions were; not just in the present times now that the switch occurred, but also before it.

Soos: “So you really are that triangle guy from two weeks ago?”

Soos: “Now that I'm thinking about it… A lot of things happened two weeks ago. That's when it began to get all wrong. Well, it was already wrong before that, but… That's really when you came that everything started to get all weird and… bad.“

Soos: “It all started because of that Summerween night. What did you want with us?”

Soos: “Why did you tell Dipper that Gideon summoned you?”

Bill: “It was just a job. Jobs are boring. There’s no fun in it if nobody’s trying to stop you.”

Bill: “Oh, and you wanna know the best part? If you’d taken Shooting Star along with you instead of going just the two of you, perhaps you would’ve had an opportunity to beat me.”

Soos: What did you do with Gideon two weeks ago? Dipper and I knew it wasn’t a coincidence that those government guys showed up just the next day. 

Bill: “Something that neither Pine Tree nor I want anybody to find out, I bet. Also if I were to tell you, you'd either faint or spend the next fourteen hours trying to explain it all to Red. Funny, but not worth it.”

Soos is disturbed by Bill’s attitude, because of course he tries to both troll and traumatize at once, and given how Soos was already terrified of Bill because of the Summerween night (”I’ve had nightmares for weeks!” from an earlier comic page), it doesn’t help. Soos tries to ask Bill about the deal he made with Gideon -- more specifically, he asks what Bill wanted in return for stealing the code from Stan’s mind. However, Bill doesn’t answer and instead opens the bedroom door to reveal that Mabel was trying to eavesdrop.

Mabel was mostly there to make sure that everything was alright, and deduces that Bill hadn't slept at all during the first night and that he intends to never sleep at all, even after she tells him that humans need sleep to survive. Thankfully she came prepared with a “surprise gift from Candy and Grenda”, and sprays Bill with Fairy Dust.

Mabel: “There’s probably enough in that bag to knock out a gremloblin in an instant, so I think he’s good for the night. :p”

Once Bill is asleep, Dipper takes this chance to come to his Dreamscape and talk to him one-on-one; and, he is not happy at how Bill treated Mabel so far. Still, after a certain point the conversation gets to a more pressing topic.

Bill: “You saw it happen, didn’t you?”

Bill: “Weirdmageddon. You saw it, right?”

Dipper: “. . .”

Bill: “Oh-ho, even better! There’s a timeline in which YOU make it happen, isn’t there?”

Dipper: “That’s not gonna happen.”

Bill: “Look kid, take it from me. The more you try to actively prevent a specific outcome, the more likely you usually make it happen.”

Dipper: “You can’t make something happen if you specifically stop everything that can lead to it from happening first.”

Dipper: “Even if it includes lying to Mabel…  I saw it. If she learns there’s a way to get me a physical form, she’ll try anything to make it happen and disregard the consequences. I bet she trusts me to keep things under control, but everything else? There’s just... There’s too many variables. We can’t let her know anything about the portal. Or Weirdmageddon.”

Bill: “Well, that doesn’t change anything from my original plan anyway.”

Bill: “So you’re just gonna stay in the Nightmare Realm forever, is that it?”

Dipper: “That’s not much of a plan so far, but that’s still an effective way to save the world.”

Bill: “Don’t mess with me. You DO know that if you don’t make your way to another dimension eventually, you’re just going to die, right?”

Dipper: “... W-what are you talking about?”

Bill: “Wait. You REALLY didn’t figure that out yet?”

Bill: “The Nightmare Realm is unstable. It’s just gonna collapse one of these days, destroy everything in it. Could be in a billion years. Could be tomorrow.”

After leaving Bill’s Dreamscape, Dipper decides to visit Wendy’s and tell her everything. He confirms her doubts, tells her the whole story with the carpet... And he tells her about Weirdmageddon and what Bill just told him about the Nightmare Realm.

Dipper: “I mean, it’s better this way for everyone, and of course I’m not gonna go with Bill’s original plan to destroy the laws of physics or whatever, but… I-I just don’t wanna die, you know?”

Wendy: “Don’t worry. We’ll find a way.”

> Summary of chapters 3 and 4

[anistarrose]

Summary: Stan finds a recording from a fateful puppet show, a few disjointed memories fall into place, and the Pines family has some tense conversations.

Relationships: Ford Pines & Stan Pines, Dipper Pines & Ford Pines & Mabel Pines & Stan Pines

Characters: Stan Pines, Ford Pines, Dipper Pines, Mabel Pines, Bill Cipher (posthumously)

Set in early September, probably a little less than a week after Dipper and Mabel went home.

(It felt good to write some Stangst again! Title is from Monster Town by Go! Child because when I can't think of titles on my own, I go to my GF playlist for inspo, and that song jumped out at me today)

***

“We should probably bring a backup camera on the boat,” Ford mused, in a tone that made it impossible to tell whether he was talking to Stan or just to himself. “Maybe even multiple backup cameras. There’s no telling what the Arctic climate could do to their circuitry, and people hardly take cryptid reports seriously even with photographic evidence, never mind with just an eyewitness account and an excuse about a broken camera —”

“Easy, Sixer.” Stan set down his fully-packed suitcase at Ford’s feet, satisfied with its contents. “I’ve got a camcorder up in my room, or maybe in — actually, I can’t remember where I decided to keep it, but it’s probably still in the house somewhere. If I can find it, you can add it to your camera horde.”

Ford zipped open Stan’s suitcase, revealing hand-knitted sweaters and Hawaiian shirts in approximately equal numbers, and sighed. “Some brave wardrobe choices you’re making here. Or have you forgotten that the first beach we’re stopping at is in Alaska?”

“Well, someone’s gotta lead the fashion revolution in the Arctic Circle, and it sure ain’t gonna be you,” Stan called as he headed upstairs, provoking a resigned “hrmph” from Ford.

Stan decided to look for the camcorder in his bedroom first — because while his memory still had some scattered gaps, his gut instincts rarely lead him astray, and checking his room had been his first impulse. Sure enough, he found it sitting on a shelf and covered in slightly less dust than the adjacent stack of magazines, just as he ever-so-vaguely remembered it.

“Better make sure this thing works, before Ford declares it too unreliable for yeti hunts or whatever,” he muttered to himself, leaning back onto his bed and fumbling for the power button. The camcorder blinked to life, presenting an interface that was probably hopelessly outdated — but Stan didn’t care, while Ford would have no way of knowing what modern Earth technology looked like.

What’d I even record on this thing anyway? He selected a random video from June, was greeted with his own voice singing the first line of the Stan Wrong Song, and immediately deleted the recording. With a sigh and silent vow to never let Ford learn of the song’s existence, he moved on to a video from July.

Once again, it was Mabel’s handiwork — heh, no wonder I couldn’t remember what I used this thing for, since the kids were always borrowing it from me — but this time, Stan himself wasn’t in frame, though the craft supplies strewn about the living room were enough to stir dormant memories.

“Dipper! Puppet Dipper! Smile for the camera!”

Dipper yawned, then somewhat half-heartedly mimicked the motion using the sock puppet on his hand. “Puppet Dipper’s not really feeling up to it this morning.”

“Did Puppet Dipper stay up too late trying to solve a mystery? Bwap!” The footage blurred as Mabel nudged Dipper with a sock puppet of her own. “Do I need to make him a little puppet-sized pillow?”

“How about… some puppet-sized sunglasses, for a puppet detective?” Dipper suggested.

“Good idea!” Mabel agreed. “Then no one will notice when Puppet Dipper falls asleep standing up!”

Stan shook his head and smiled.

Man, I wish I’d found this back when my memories were still a mess — Mabel kinda skimmed over the whole puppet saga in her scrapbook. Wonder what else got recorded from that week…

He selected the next video chronologically, noticing that it was also the final recording on the device, and the smile vanished from his face.

“You can’t stop me!” It was Dipper’s voice, yet not Dipper’s voice — all fury and arrogance, and the camcorder’s cheap speaker crackled with static, like the voice was too much, too wrong, too alien to properly record and then replicate. “I’m a being of pure energy with NO weaknesses!”

Without a doubt, Dipper’s body was onscreen, but he was staggering towards Mabel with arms twisted at impossible angles. He lunged for the journal in her hands, eyes glinting the same gold color as the emblem of the six-fingered hand —

Stan hit the power button, rolled over on the bed, and buried his face in his pillow as the wave of memories crashed into him.

Brushing off Dipper’s sorry state as sleep deprivation, until the kid collapsed on the way out of the theater. Seeing the cuts and bruises all over Dipper’s hands as Stan helped him to his feet, and grilling the kids on what happened the whole drive to the hospital. Not getting an answer beyond “sleep deprivation.”

Not being able to give the doctor an answer beyond “sleep deprivation.”

Telling the twins’ parents it was just “sleep deprivation.”

A tense phone call, assuring Mr. and Mrs. Pines that Dipper’s recovery would be swift and tha Gravity Falls was still safe for their children. Stan’s hands shaking as he holds the phone, having no idea if that’s the truth, if he’s doing the right thing.

Mabel crying over a crumpled-up scrap of paper — a note? — she’d found in the car, and refusing to show it to Stan. Half-overheard secrets, whispered between the younger twins when they think Stan isn’t paying attention — apologies, worries, and murmurs too soft to be in any way decipherable.

Dipper, still with bags under his eyes, spending the next few days doing almost nothing but looking over his shoulder and burying his head in the journal. Stan pretending not to notice, but secretly finding it far too familiar for comfort.

Later memories, too — memories of demons, and handshakes, and feeling his body go numb. Memories of a voice, a furiously shrieking voice — both terrified and terrifying, but more than anything, alien.

Now, far too late, Stan recognized it.

***

“We’re calling the kids,” Stan barked, barging back downstairs, and Ford jumped.

“What’s wrong? Are your memories —”

“Better than they’ve ever been, actually.” Stan stormed directly to the living room table, flipping open the laptop on loan from Soos and clicking the video chat app. “Good enough to figure out something that apparently no one thought it might be important to tell me!”

“Are you sure?” Ford put a hand on Stan’s shoulder. “We can still call them, but let’s talk this through first, make sure you’re not missing any gaps —”

Stan paused, cursor an inch away from the call button beneath Dipper and Mabel’s profile picture. “Did Dipper tell you about the time Bill possessed him?”

Ford started to say something, stopped, and tried again. “I… I assumed you knew. I’m sorry.”

“Did you know I ended up taking him to the goddamn hospital afterwards?”

“No,” Ford whispered, and Stan felt Ford’s fingers dig into his shoulder. “Call the kids, Stan.”

Mabel must’ve been online, because she picked up almost immediately. The video opened with her sitting in her kitchen in Piedmont, Waddles in her lap. “Grunkle Stan! Grunkle Ford! Guess what I —”

The joy drained out of her smile when she noticed her grunkles’ grave expressions. “What’s going on?”

“Mabel, pumpkin,” Stan murmured, trying to tune out the sound of his heart thumping in his chest, “could you go get your brother?”

“I’m here, I’m here!” Dipper slid into view, almost falling off his chair, and Mabel scooted out of the way so they could both comfortably face the laptop. “Is something wrong?”

“Not anymore,” Ford explained, “but Stan and I wanted to talk about… communication, among other things — Stan? Are you sure you’re alright?”

Stan wiped the sweat from his forehead and shuddered, forcing himself to take a deep breath as he stared at the computer.

Dipper’s back home. Dipper’s safe. They’re both safe, and they’ll never have to worry about Bill again.

“Stanley?” Ford echoed, increasingly distressed. “Please, if —”

“I’ll be alright,” Stan managed, because even he wasn’t a good enough liar to convince anyone he was alright at this exact moment. “Promise. But kids, why didn’t you tell me when Bill hijacked your puppet show?”

Dipper and Mabel exchanged a guilty look.

“Was it because you thought I’d take away the journal?” Stan regretted his ‘only self-defense’ stipulation for the third journal more than almost anything else he’d said that summer, because he’d always known deep down that it wouldn’t stop the kids — and in hindsight, he would’ve much rather known what trouble the kids were getting into, not have them hide it from him with their late nights out in the woods and nonspecific excuses.

“At first,” Dipper replied. “But we ended up worrying a whole lot more about you sending us home early —”

“Your parents almost made that decision for me,” Stan admitted. “They were ready to drive up here and come get you when they heard what happened. I dunno how I convinced them to let you stay —”

He sighed. “And maybe knowing the truth wouldn’t have actually helped me that time — but it would’ve been nice to know how big a lie I was telling when I told them this town was safe for you kids, y’know?”

He regretted voicing that thought immediately, but regretted it even moreso when Dipper looked away from the camera, mumbling: “I’m sorry, Grunkle Stan.”

“Stan’s not trying to guilt you,” Ford spoke up, “but we want you to know you can talk about these things honestly with us — and that goes for both of you, Dipper and Mabel. We’d never want to punish you for something that was obviously… someone else’s fault.”

Thank god one of us has finally learned to think through what we say before we say it, Stan figured.

“I’m sorry too, kids,” he added out loud. “For getting angry at you a minute ago — ‘cause I’m not angry at you, I’m angry at Bill for what he got away with right behind my back, and I… I just…”

He brushed a finger across their digital faces, a gesture that no doubt failed to translate to the video feed Dipper and Mabel were viewing, and smiled. “Thanks for picking up so fast, ‘cause I really needed a reminder that the two of you are safe and sound and all.”

The kids smiled back, visible for just a second before Mabel leaned forward to hug her laptop and the screen went dark.

“Anytime, Grunkle Stan.”

***

“Coffee?” asked Ford, ever the early riser, as Stan trudged into the kitchen the next morning. “You look like you need it.”

“Gee, thanks, Sixer,” Stan groaned, slumping into the seat across from Ford at the kitchen table. “I’ve heard of backhand compliments, but now I’ve gotta live with your backhanded coffee offers too?”

“Sorry. I’m sympathizing, not mocking — I promise, when I woke up today, my eyes were just as bloodshot as yours are now,” Ford replied, sliding Stan a mug of steaming coffee. “How are your memories?”

It was a routine question as of late, but Stan still managed to botch it completely.

“Too good,” he muttered under his breath, and earned a quizzical look from Ford.

“Pardon?”

“…Good enough that I can remember all kinda things to feel shitty about,” Stan reluctantly admitted. “Like not even noticing when Dipper was possessed, for one thing. I spent the whole summer worrying about him, except for when he was actually in danger —”

“Oh, Stanley,” Ford sighed, “that’s not your fault. You know Bill was an expert liar; he scammed too many people to count —”

“Yeah, but I shoulda seen through it!” Stan brought his fist down on the table, and the contents of his mug sloshed precariously close to the top. “Of all people, I should’ve known better —”

“Right.” Ford grimaced. “Right. Because no one else who should’ve known better was ever tricked by a dream demon for a whole lot longer than a few hours —”

“Shit. Ford, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it like —”

With a controlled glowering expression and deliberate motions, Ford stood, marching across the kitchen with all the fury and hesitation of a slow-moving thunderstorm.

“I didn’t mean it was your fault! I’d never — ”

“…I know.” Ford came to a halt at the door, bracing one hand against the frame. “But if you can say as much about me, then… then why can’t you just say that about yourself?”

“What?!”

“You would’ve caught on soon enough, if Mabel hadn’t defeated Bill when she did — I wasn’t there, but I’m sure of that because I know you, and I know how well you know Dipper.” Ford shook his head. “I didn’t catch on to Bill’s lies for years. I gave him free reign to hurt people for so much longer than one evening —”

He crossed his arms, and his imposing silhouette in the doorway seemed to shrink.

“So if you’re not blaming me for anything to happen this summer, then you’d better not blame yourself, you — you knucklehead.”

“Are you kidding me?” Stan leapt out of his seat. “It’s no wonder you didn’t see through Bill’s lies, when your whole life, you had me watching your back — and then I wasn’t there for you, when you needed me more than ever —”

“Because I pushed you away!” Ford shouted, whirling back around to face him. “Do you know what I realized while I was trying to fall asleep last night? That if I’d just stood up to Dad when he kicked you out, if I’d just done the right thing for once in my formative years, then the end of the world as we knew it would’ve been averted altogether! No falling for Bill’s flattery, no arguing over the zodiac, no Weirdmageddon! We could’ve had it all, but we just couldn’t live in that better world, all because I convinced myself you were suffocating me —”

“But it sounds like maybe I still am, huh?” Stan growled. “If all I do is just make you furious like this —”

“No,” Ford gasped, all the hostility in his voice and his glare immediately melting away. “No, no, absolutely not! I’m not furious at you, Stan, I’m…”

“Furious at yourself,” Stan accused, “for being even worse than me?!”

“No! Don’t even say that!”

Before Stan could process what was happening, much less protest it, Ford was hugging him, burying his face in Stan’s shoulder.

“Maybe — maybe I am angry at you, after all,” Ford admitted, “but you’re my hero, Stanley. My inspiration. If am angry with you, it’s — it’s just because you’re too damn stubborn to forgive yourself…”

Stan gingerly placed a hand on Ford’s shoulder. “…Yeah, and you’re one to talk.”

“I won’t deny that,” Ford mumbled. He went quiet for a few seconds, and when he spoke up again, his voice was quieter, yet slightly more composed. “Maybe we need to just… call a truce. Find something positive to agree on. We’re both too stubborn for this argument to end with either of us admitting we were wrong —”

“At least for give-or-take the next forty years,” Stan interrupted, punctuating his words with a bitter laugh.

Ford barked out a laugh of his own, loud and cathartic, and withdrew from the hug, removing his glasses to rub his eyes. “If Dipper and Mabel were here, they would have told us to stop being stubborn old men a while ago. I wish they were here.”

“They’d probably also tell us it’s more Bill’s fault than either of ours,” Stan added. “And… I guess they’d have a point.”

“I can see the logic in that.” Ford smiled faintly. “I’m sorry for making this about me, by the way. You opened up to talk about your own issues, and I —”

“Hey, I made it about you just as much as you did, Brainiac,” Stan reminded him. “…But damn. You think we’ll ever be able to talk about our feelings without shouting our lungs out at each other?”

“We’re still no good at thinking through anything before we say it,” Ford replied, “though I guess we must be getting a little better, since we didn’t even stop speaking to each other this time.”

“Thank god. I’m tired of not talking to you.”

The two of them settled back into their seats at the table, and Stan reached for the morning paper, but Ford spoke up once more.

“I know forgiveness, especially self-forgiveness, can be… complicated,” he told Stan in a low voice, “so maybe I’m biased, speaking as someone who’d rather not grapple with my own personal guilt — but even more important than whether you forgive or blame yourself, I think, is acknowledging that you made mistakes, yet still deserve good things from the universe. And that goes for you and me both.”

Stan took a sip from his mug, pleased to find its contents were still warm. “Good things like coffee, and adventures sailing around the world?”

Ford chuckled. “My priorities exactly.”

[woulddieforperrytheplatypus]

In this AU where Phineas is the author of the journals, does Ford just... not exist? Because I think there'd be something kind of poetic of him being the one to confront and eventually reform Phineas

Not gonna lie, I was wondering about that myself. I was kind of thinking that he probably did exist but never made it to Gravity Falls? Like Stan created the Mystery Shack free of any emotionally scarring backstories about missing brothers? And then even if Ford did eventually make it to Gravity Falls, once he realized Stan was already there, he would scram? Now that you bring it up, though, I really love the idea of Ford confronting Phineas. I feel like they’d get along really well -- arguably even better than Ford and Dipper, if only because Phineas wouldn’t view him as some sort of celebrity or god (which is not a knock on Dipper and Ford’s relationship at all because I do love it but this is definitely a different vibe). 

But that begs the question of how Ford plays into this if he didn’t write the journals. Did he write anything? Did he leave Stan any type of clue on how to bring him back? Did he end up in the other dimension at all? I’m gonna just kinda write out thoughts as they enter my brain as I usually do; that’s how most of these asks get answered lmao and hopefully it forms a coherent backstory under the cut but no promises

Maybe Ford was the first of the main characters to end up at Gravity Falls. He would still presumably be interested in the supernatural, and he’d definitely be drawn to somewhere like this. But no one would believe anything he says about it, so this is more for his personal gain that anyone else’s, which means he doesn’t have to write out everything he sees and learns. He just writes the things he thinks are the most important, which leaves one journal. That would presumably be the one he gives to Stan, and he asks Stan to never let it out of his sight but to keep it as far away from Gravity Falls as possible. The same fight ensues with the same outcome, and now it’s just Stan and the book. 

The only problem is that the book isn’t complete. Ford only wrote down little details that he didn’t want to forget, and everything in there operates under the assumption that the reader knows everything that he knew -- which, obviously, is not the case. The instructions to open the portal are probably in here somewhere, but Stan can’t understand a word it says. So instead of pouring over the journals, he spends his nights exploring the town and hoping to find all the secrets that Ford never wrote into the journal, because he’s convinced that’s going to be all it takes to open it again. He doesn’t realize that none of the bullshit about zombies and gnomes and the hide-behind matters. All he needs is Bill, but Ford never wrote about Bill because he was so captivated by the guy, he knew he wouldn’t forget any of it. 

And that’s the really important part -- this is all centered around Bill. Ford has more experience with him than anyone else on earth. Dipper can’t reach Phineas because he’s always viewed Bill as the enemy, but Ford knows exactly how Phineas feels because he was right there too. He fell for Bill’s charm and his cocky attitude and his godly powers just like Phineas did, and he paid the price. And if Phineas refuses to let Bill go -- to let his endless summer go -- that’s fine. Ford can’t force him to. But he’ll stay right here with him, because he learned the hard way that once you get sucked into Bill’s mess, you’ve already lost your friends and family and there’s no way to get them back. He’ll stay right here and be the friend that Phineas needs when it all goes south. 

And tbh I don’t think think it would be the first-hand account that would do it for him. He’s going to assume that Ford is lying or exaggerating, because Bill would never hurt someone like that. It wouldn’t be the threat of losing everyone he loves, because he has idealized versions of them in his neverending summer dream, and, of course, he has Bill, the best friend he could ever ask for. No, the thing that convinced Phineas that maybe he’s on the wrong side here is the fact that Ford is willing to drop everything and stay here with him. Phineas had been nothing but rude to him this whole time, and Ford still sat down on the ground next to him and refused to move. He gained nothing from that, but he did it anyway, and no one does anything that selfless and completely useless if they don’t feel like they have to -- if they’re not so completely haunted by their own past that they have to feel like they’re helping, even if there’s nothing they can do. 

[orangeoctopi7]

Better to Say Too Much

“Say What You Mean to Say” 

Chapter 1

The attic bedroom was filled with awkward silence after Stan forced them to go to bed early. They each lay in their beds, trying to look occupied with reading or knitting, but still glancing over at the other every few seconds. Finally, they both couldn't take the quiet any more.

"Dipper, I'm--"

"Mabel, are you--"

They both laughed awkwardly.

"You first." Dipper offered.

"I… I'm really worried about Bill coming back." Mabel admitted, "you got really hurt the last time, and you could've been hurt way worse if we hadn't been able to stop him at the puppet show. I don't want something like that to happen again. It's more important than ever that we look out for each other."

"It'll be ok, Mabel." Dipper assured her. "Bill can't get to us as long as we're inside the barrier."

A small smile spread across her lips, but she didn't look completely comforted. "What were you gonna say?"

Dipper fidgeted with his sheets. "I was gonna ask… are you still mad at me?"

Mabel glanced back down at her knitting. She was, a little bit. But she couldn’t say that after she’d just told her brother how important it was that they look out for each other. “Well… I haven’t changed my mind about how I feel about you taking Ford’s apprenticeship. But, I know you need more time to think about it, so… I’m just not gonna talk about it for now.”

“So that’s a yes?” Dipper read between the lines.

The colorful girl frowned. “Blargh! I don’t wanna be mad at you, especially not right now, but I just-- I don’t want things to change! I like the way my life is now!”

“Things can’t stay frozen like this forever Mabel, that’s just how life works. Things change.”

Mabel buried herself into her blankets. “I guess.” She mumbled sullenly. “Let’s just not talk about it right now, OK? I know you want time to think about it.”

“Ok, but we do need to talk about this at some point.”

“I already told you what I think about it.”

“Yeah, but we need to talk about it when we’re both calm and not super emotional. I’m not gonna make a decision without your input.”

Mabel poked her head back out of her blankets. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Dipper affirmed,  “You were right, this affects you too.”

That certainly made Mabel feel a little better. But it also made her a little anxious. She was going to have to come up with a calm, rational, Dipper-friendly explanation for why she thought the apprenticeship with Ford was a bad idea beyond just ‘You are my brother and I don’t want you to leave me’.

* * *

Sunlight was just barely beginning to filter through the darkness when Stan was awoken by the sound of power tools the next morning. He groggily rose out of bed, wondering if Soos had come in early and started on some repairs around the shack. It wouldn’t be the first time. As the racket continued, Stan once again found himself wondering how the heck the kids could sleep through all this noise. Upon reaching the gift shop, Stan found not Soos, but Ford, in the middle of messing with the security cameras. 

“...Did you even sleep last night?” Stan asked, still half-asleep.

“No, I spent most of the night attempting to crack open the containment unit.” Ford replied without turning around. Apparently he’d seen his brother coming on the security feed. “I only managed to expand the crack another millimeter or so, but it’s clear that Mabel was right. It’s curing more slowly within the dome.”

“Uh... “ Whatever his brother had just said went right over Stan’s still sleep-addled head. “What’re you doin’ up here?”

“You said I could use your security cameras to monitor the secret entrance to the lab." Ford reminded him. "You also said if I stayed in here, it would attract too much attention. So I'm rerouting the feed to the den."

"I said you could watch the video feed from my office.”

"It takes exactly forty-three seconds for me to run downstairs from your office to the secret entrance. In that time someone could input the code and be halfway down the elevator. I'm going to be set up right on the other side of that door." Ford pointed to the Employees Only sign that led into the den.

"Why don't you just change it over to a wireless feed, while you're at it." Stan rolled his eyes. 

"That’s what I’m doing." Ford answered, not realizing his brother's question had been both rhetorical and sarcastic. 

“Fine. Just don’t forget, you’re supposed to call Dipper ‘n Mabel’s parents today.” Stan reminded him.

Ford checked his watch. “I doubt they’re up at this hour.”

“Then why the heck are you up doin’ this!?”

“I need to finish before you open this place up to tours.”

Stan gave a roaring yawn. “Oh yeah, that reminds me.” He taped an Out of Order sign up on the vending machine. “So you don’t come charging in guns ablazing every time some schmuck wants a cheese log.”

“Good thinking.” Ford said simply.

“Welp, I’m already up. Might as well start makin’ breakfast.” Stan scratched his rear and turned to leave. He almost asked Ford if he wanted anything, but thought better of it. His brother at least came upstairs to have dinner with the family most days, but Stan never saw him eat any other meals. Dipper had mentioned something about nutrition pills at some point. Stan thought that was an affront against nature and taste buds, but hey, if it meant one less mouth to feed, he wasn’t going to complain.

* * *

Ford did finish his upgrade of the security cameras before the Mystery Shack opened, although it hardly mattered. The only people there that morning were Wendy and Soos.

“Aw man, the vending machine’s out of order again?” Wendy complained when she saw the sign taped up on its front.

“Eh, not exactly.” Stan shrugged. “My brother’s got some super-dangerous ball of glitter-glue down there, and this jerk called Bill wants to steal it. I figured it was safer just to not let anybody use the vending machine. I did the same thing right after those agents started snooping around.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot there really is a secret passage back there!” Wendy recalled  “That’s so weird, I had a dream about that last night.” 

The Employees Only door slammed open and Ford loomed into the gift shop.

"Oh, hey Stan Two." Wendy greeted him, as if it were perfectly normal for your boss' long-lost twin to suddenly barge in on a conversation.

"Tell me everything you can remember about this dream." The old researcher demanded.

"Well, that's what was really weird about it. I don't normally remember my dreams, but this one was really vivid." Wendy explained.

"Yes, and what happened?"

"Uh, I opened up the secret passage behind the vending machine… then there were like stairs leading to an elevator? That was really weird. Then when I got out of the elevator there were like, I dunno, balloons or bubbles or something everywhere? Dipper was down there, but he was weird too. Kinda like when he went nuts during Mabel's puppet show last month? Anyway, he handed me my axe and wanted me to start popping the bubbles, or whatever they were. Like I said, man, it was weird."

"How did it end?" Ford asked frantically.

"Uh, I think I woke up after he gave me the axe."

"Did you make any deals? Did you shake his hand!?"

"Nnnnnooo?" Wendy replied, starting to feel a little weirded out.

Ford grabbed her by the shoulders. "This is gravely serious. Your dreams were invaded last night by Bill Cipher."

"Wait, you mean like that jerk Mabel needed the unicorn hair to get rid of?"

"Yes, and he's trying to convince you to cut open the rift I already sealed! What exactly did he say to you?"

"Who, you mean the Dipper in my dream?"

"Yes, I'm almost certain that was Bill in disguise. Did he have yellow eyes?"

Wendy looked genuinely spooked now. "How… how did you know that?"

"What did he say to you?" Ford repeated forcefully.

"Relax, Captain Paranoid." Stan stepped between his brother and his employee. 

"I am not paranoid!!" Ford shouted. "There is no possible way she could just coincidentally dream all those details, it has to be Bill!"

"I know, alright, but you're freaking her out!"

To the untrained eye, Wendy just looked mildly perturbed, but Stan had known her long enough to know mildly perturbed for Wendy was on the verge of a panic attack for an average person.

Ford tried to reel in his frantic, fearful energy, but he still needed to know what happened. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to frighten you, it's just--"

"I'm not frightened." Wendy insisted. "It's just a lot to take in, ya know?" She paused and thought back to her dream. "He just handed me my axe, and said 'Have at it, Red!' and that's not how Dipper talks to me, so I woke up."

Stan could practically see the gears turning in Ford’s head as the old researcher tried to guess what Bill was up to. The old conman was pretty worried about the whole thing himself; he honestly hadn’t thought Bill would bother anyone outside their immediate family, but he wasn’t about to let any of that show. Wendy was freaked out enough as it was. 

“Thank you… Wendy, was it?” Ford finally said. “For now, you needn’t worry. Just be cautious if you have any more strange dreams: don’t shake anyone’s hand, don’t make any deals, and don’t burst any bubbles, balloons, or other dome-like things.”

“Yeah, sure.” Wendy nodded, which Stan knew was probably the strongest affirmative she’d ever give any adult. 

“Do you dudes wanna hear about the weird dream I had last night?” Soos asked.

“Yes.” Ford said gravely.

“Oh boy.” Stan just rolled his eyes.

“Ok, so I was at Beryl City Nerdic Con with Melody, only she wasn’t actually there in person, she was just there on my laptop that I had to carry around with me, and I was trying to go to a panel where Mr. Pines was the guest speaker, except the room kept on getting changed, so I was running all over the convention center, but I had to be careful not to drop my laptop, or Melody couldn’t see what was happening. And then they moved the panel to a tent outside…”

Stan pulled Wendy aside while Soos continued the ramble on. “Hey, kid, we’re pretty slow today, so if you’re not feelin’ great after last night--”

“I’m fine, Mr. Pines.” The girl insisted. But the fact that she’d passed up an opportunity to get out of work for the day was practically a blinking sign advertising the fact that she was definitely not fine. 

“If you say so.” Stan folded his arms. “But like I said, we’re slow. Do me a favor an’ go check on the kids. I haven’t seen either of ‘em all morning.”

“Yeah, alright.” She walked through the Employees Only door and into the main part of the house. Stan was sure Dipper and Mabel would do a better job of explaining what was going on and comforting the teen than his brother had. Of course, Ford had set the bar pretty low.

“... So I spent like, the next twenty minutes of the dream working on this dude’s engine. And when I’m finally done, instead of asking him to give me a ride to the panel, I just keep walking! I didn’t even realize I could’ve asked him that until we were like a block down the street and Melody brought it up! So then it started raining--”

“Soos,” Ford finally interrupted the handyman’s long winded retelling. “Were there yellow eyes at any point in this dream?” 

“Uh, not that I remember.”

“Did you ever shake anyone’s hand?”

“Nah, I had to keep holding on to Melody’s laptop.”

“Did you make a deal with anyone?”

“Well, I did start working at that restaurant, and fix that one dude’s truck. But those weren’t really deals, I don’t think. I just saw jobs that needed to be done.”

“Then I think I can say with certainty that Bill Cipher did not enter your dreams last night.”

“Heheh, what a relief! So anyway, once we got to the tent where the panel was being held…”

* * *

Mabel had been texting back and forth with Pacifica since she’d gotten up that morning. 

Pacifica, I have a weird question for you

I thought I told you to delete this number

And for the last time, it wasn’t actually a hug

No, not about you and diper

*Dipper

Have your parents been acting weird lately?

What do you mean they’re never weird

They’re the opposite of weird

They’re just really rich and controlling

I mean have they been acting different from usual?

No they’re just mad at me

 why?

Its a long story. Come over later and ill tell you about it!!!

Can’t

I’m super grounded after the photoshoot thing

Do we need to come rescue you???!?!

No please don’t I’ll just get in more trouble

:( :( :(

Well let me know if you have any weird dreams or anything

Why what’s going on?

I don’t think its safe to talk bout it over phone

Are you ok?

:D :D :D :D 

Yeah im fine!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I helped Grunkle Ford set up a protection spell

You remember he was the one you said looked like hot Stan

OMG SHUT UP!!

The colorful girl hadn’t heard back from her crazy rich rival since that last comment, but at least it seemed nothing was up with the Northwests. Mabel sighed as she hugged Waddles and scrolled back up through their conversation. She may have stretched the truth a bit with Pacifica. “Fine” probably wasn’t the right word for how she felt. But she didn’t want her friend to worry about her. 

She was interrupted from her thoughts by a knock on the door. 

“What up, dudes?” Wendy called from the other side.

Mabel finally got up out of bed and opened the door to her teenaged friend. “Wendy! What are you doing up here?”

“Stan asked me to come check on you guys.” She shrugged. “Hey, where’s Dipper?”

“I think he’s on the roof. He… he needed some time to himself for thinking.”

“Well, he’d better be done, ‘cuz I need to talk to him.” Wendy said sternly.

Mabel led the ginger teen over to the nearest window with access to the roof. It wasn’t necessary, Wendy knew her way around the Shack, but the colorful girl needed an excuse to get up and out of her room. Once Wendy was outside, Waddles started thumping down the stairs, probably in search of a late breakfast. Mabel followed him down the stairs and into the kitchen. 

Stan had made bacon and cheesy eggs, although they’d gone cold by the time Mabel reached them. Oh well, it was nothing a few seconds in the microwave couldn’t fix. The girl scooped the eggs into a bowl and nuked them for a few seconds. Waddles sniffed at the food on the table above him.

“No Waddles!” Mabel admonished him, pushing away the plate of bacon. “That’s cannibalism!”

Once it was warmed, she scooped half her eggs directly into the pig’s mouth, then proceeded to eat the rest herself. After finishing breakfast, she made a beeline for the livingroom and the TV, intent on watching Saturday morning cartoons. The den and the livingroom kind of bled into each other, and when Mabel sat down on the recliner in front of the TV, she couldn’t help but notice Ford sitting at the card table around the corner, intently watching his own screen. 

The girl wondered if this was the right time to finally confront Ford about the apprenticeship thing. They were alone in the house at the moment, but he looked busy. Then she remembered. Ford had said he wanted to watch the security cameras to make sure no tourists tried to get into the lab today! Mabel knew better than to try and interrupt that, so she just flipped on the TV instead. 

The sound of the TV turning on, however, alerted Ford to her presence. The old researcher looked up at her, then back down at his screen, then glanced at the door, back at the screen, and finally back up at Mabel again.

"Mabel, may I speak with you for a moment?" He asked.

Mabel's brain tripped all over itself. This was her chance, but what was she supposed to say? How could she explain to her Grunkle how what he was offering Dipper was hurting her? Would he get mad at her? Was she going to lose control of her emotions and get mad at him?

Her apprehension must have been apparent, because Ford crossed the room and knelt down beside her, getting on her eye level. "I want you to know, it was never my intention to hurt you by offering Dipper the apprenticeship. I guessed it might upset you, but I didn't realize just how strongly you'd react, or how terrible my timing was. I'm afraid I can't give you the same kind of personalized education I can give your brother, the kind of education you deserve, but you're welcome to stay here too, if you wish."

The girl was stunned, unsure of how to react. Her thoughts, which had already been scrambling to figure out how to confront Ford, were knocked completely off-course. Wasn’t this what she wanted? More time in Gravity Falls? More time to spend with her new family and friends? More time to have adventures with her brother? Or had her new Grunkle’s offer just made her situation worse? If Mabel stayed in Gravity Falls, she wouldn’t get to go to school with her old friends, wouldn’t get to go home to her mom and dad, or her cat, back in Piedmont. 

“...Mabel?” Ford asked when she hesitated.

“I know you’re trying to make me feel better, but you’re not!” She finally cried. “You’re making me choose between my brother and my parents!”

“Mabel, no--”

“Yes, you are!” She maintained, with tears in her eyes. “I know you’ve been alone for a long time, and you’re mad at your brother, b-but you’ve got to understand how hard a decision you’re asking us to make!”

The old researcher was obviously distressed that he’d made his niece cry, but he went on talking anyway.

“Mabel, I do realize how difficult a decision this is... and you don’t have to make that decision right away. I just-- just realized it wasn’t fair to not at least give you that option. And I know you’re capable. You’ve already made several difficult decisions this summer, from what I’ve heard.”

“So what’s one more, right?” She cried indignantly, wiping furiously away at her tears and storming off. 

Unfortunately, the sounds of their argument had attracted Stan. He poked his head in from the gift shop just in time to see Mabel’s aggrieved exit. The old conman entered the room, and if looks could kill, Ford would have been dead on the spot. 

“What. Did you. Do?” 

* * *

The roof held its fair share of bad memories for Dipper. It was where Wax Sherlock Holmes had tried to kill him, where Tyrone had melted, where Bill had first tried to make a deal with him. But there were some good memories too. It was where he’d first started hanging out with Wendy, where he’d lit off fireworks with Grunkle Stan and Mabel, where he still liked to go when he needed someplace to think. It was some peace and quiet away from his raucous family members. Dipper definitely got why Ford spent so much time in the basement. 

Today it was especially nice. The weather was cooling as fall approached, and a pleasant breeze whispered through the treetops. The sun-warmed shingles were just the right temperature, making a comfortable seat. 

Dipper needed the tranquil environment. He had a lot on his mind, and a big decision to make. Today was the first time since Ford had offered him the apprenticeship that he had an opportunity to stop and really consider his options. So far, the boy had compiled a detailed pros and cons chart, and was currently in the process of reviewing that list and giving each item a weighted score. Pros like “Don’t have to ride bus back to Piedmont” only got one point, while pros like “Get to explore UFO” got ten. The cons were rated on a similar scale, with the worst one, “Don’t go home with Mabel”, getting a score of eleven, because it was a very bad con. 

“Hmmm, get to hang out with Wendy after school… Would that be a six or a seven? Mabey an eight?” He mumbled to himself.

“I’d go with eight. I might be biased though.” Wendy’s voice replied behind him.

The boy’s face flushed the same shade of red as the teen’s hair. “W-wendy! I-I’m sorry, I didn’t notice you there! It’s not--I’m not--I just wanna hang out as friends, I swear!”

“Don’t sweat it, man!” She punched him playfully in the arm. “I’m the one who snuck up on you.”

“Heh.” Dipper forced out an awkward chuckle. “Did you come up here to escape work?”

“Eh, sorta.” Wendy waggled her hand in a so-so motion. “Stan asked me to check on you dudes.”

“Oh. Yeah, everyone’s kinda freaked out right now ‘cuz Bill showed up yesterday. He tried to make a deal with Mabel and Stan, and then when he couldn’t, he got angry and started making threats. Ford’s got something he wants, but it’s safe, thanks to that unicorn hair you and Mabel got the other day. We just have to make sure it stays that way.”

“Yyyeah, that’s kinda the other reason I’m up here.” Wendy admitted.

Dipper turned his full attention to her. He hadn’t seen Wendy this nervous since they almost got their memories wiped. 

“So… I had a weird dream last night. I didn’t really think anything of it until I talked to Ford about it when I got into work just now… but… he seemed to think it was that Bill guy, and honestly… I think he’s right.”

Dipper’s eyes widened with fear. “Ohmigosh, a-are you ok? What happened? Did he try to make a deal with you? Did he threaten you or your family?”

“Nah, dude, he just… It was weird, I guess in the dream he was pretending to be you? I went down into the Shack’s basement and it was filled with these bubbles of glitter, or something, and you were down there, but your eyes were yellow and you were calling me weird names. You gave me my axe and said ‘Have at it’. Or, Bill did, I guess.”

The breeze that had once felt pleasant was now sending shivers up Dipper’s spine. “The rift! He was trying to get you to cut open the rift!”

"Yeah, that's what your Uncle said. Uh, and that is…?” Wendy asked.

The boy hesitated. Ford had asked Dipper not to tell anyone about the rift, not even Stan or Mabel… but that had almost led to Bill tricking them yesterday. He probably would have, if not for Stan’s instincts. It would probably be best if he told Wendy, right? He’d already kinda spilled the beans, after all.

“The portal that Stan used to bring Ford home created a rip in the universe.” Dipper explained. “Bill wants it so he can invade our world. Me and Ford sealed it up with an alien adhesive, but it’s taking longer to dry than we thought, so it’s still vulnerable. And Bill will try to convince anyone to break it open.”

“Yeah, well he wasn’t all that convincing, if you ask me.” Wendy said flippantly.

Dipper thought back to that night over a month ago on this very roof. “He wasn’t that convincing the first time he tried to trick me either. But then he showed up when I was desperate, and…” He suddenly understood why Ford had been so reluctant to share his past with Bill. Dipper couldn’t reveal such an embarrassing secret, especially not to Wendy. Still, it was probably the most effective way to explain what Bill was capable of to her.

“You remember what happened at Mabel’s puppet show, last month?”

“Yeah dude, you were so sleep deprived you started acting like the villain from a bad slasher flick.”

“That… wasn’t sleep deprivation. Bill possessed me.”

“Wait, what?” Wendy asked in disbelief.

“I-I screwed up. He said he’d give me the answers I was looking for, and all he wanted in return was a puppet. But I was the puppet!”

Wendy stared at him in horror. Dipper’s stomach flip-flopped. Was she going to tell him off for being stupid enough to fall for such an obvious trick? Was she afraid that Bill would come back and possess him again? Did she even believe him, or did she think he’d finally lost his mind?

“That wasn’t you…” she finally spoke in a low voice  “...and I didn’t even realize… no, I knew something was off, but… Oh my gosh, Dipper, I’m so sorry, I should’ve done something!” 

“What? No, Wendy, it’s not your fault!” he assured her. “I just wanted to warn you! Bill might come back, you need to know how he works, what he might try to do.”

The ginger teen stared out over the forest with a far-away look, her knuckles bone-white as she tightly gripped the edge of the roof. Dipper realized her gaze was pointed towards her house.

“Hey, uh, if I were to get my hands on some more unicorn hair, would your uncle be able to, I dunno, protect my house the way he did to the Shack?”

“Uh, I think so…” Dipper replied. “I’d have to ask him first.”

“Great. You talk to Ford. I gotta go talk to Stan. I think I’m gonna take the day off after all.”

* * *

Stan had just finished up a tour with a young couple who seemed more interested in each other than the exhibits. Eh, he’d take what he could get. Maybe he could set up a secluded corner of the gift shop and charge them to use the “Mystery Make-out Cave”. 

He’d been about to move the T-shirt rack to start just that, when he heard a raised voice coming from the den. Stan turned up his hearing aide and leaned his ear against the door. It was Mabel, and she sounded upset. Next, he heard the long-winded ramblings of Ford. Whatever his big-mouthed brother had said obviously didn’t make Mabel feel any better. Stan poked his head into the room to see what all the commotion was about, just in time to see her fleeing the room. He’d only caught a glimpse of her face before she rounded the corner, but it was enough to see the tears streaming down her cheeks.

“What. Did you. Do?” Stan asked, his voice dangerously low.

Ford at least had the decency to feel guilty about making his niece cry. “I-I just told her she was welcome to stay here with Dipper during his apprenticeship, but for some reason beyond my understanding--”

“You did what!?” Stan growled.

“You’re the one who told me I was excluding Mabel by not extending her an offer as well!”

“You were supposed to call their parents first, genius!”

“You never said anything about which one I was supposed to do first!”

Part of Stan wanted to shake his brother, ask him how a guy with 12 PhD’s could be so stupid. But the other part of Stan knew Ford had always been like this. You had to give him ridiculously specific instructions when it came to social interactions, or he’d completely mess them up. Sometimes he’d mess them up even with instructions. It was Stan’s own fault for not saying “First you have to call the kids’ parents and get their permission. Then, there won’t be a then because there’s no way on Earth they’ll ever agree to it!”

Instead, Stan just pinched the bridge of his nose, massaged his eyes in a futile attempt to stop the oncoming stress-headache, and heaved a sigh of frustration.  

“You know what your problem is? You’re treatin’ these kids like adults.”

“You see that as a problem?” Ford raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps your problem is that you treat them too much like children.”

“I don’t mean talkin’ down to them, or babying them!” Stan clarified. “I mean tryin’ to give them a normal-ish childhood! I mean not expectin’ them to grow up too fast! I mean not dumping huge problems or decisions on them! I mean lettin’ them enjoy bein’ young while they still can!”

“Normal is overrated.” Ford replied coolly. “And I still fail to see why they can’t enjoy being young here in Gravity Falls.”

Stan gave up. Why did he ever think his brother would listen to him? There was obviously only one way he was gonna make Ford see reason.

“Alright, time for you to call the kids parents.”

“I’ll call them after you shut down the gift shop for the day.” Ford said, looking back down at the security feed on his future-tech screen. 

“Quit putting it off, Sixer! I’ll watch the gift shop. You go call. Now.” Stan insisted forcefully.

Thankfully, Ford relented. Just as he was about to enter the kitchen to access the phone there, Stan stopped him.

“Their numbers are on the fridge. Micha and Deborah. You probably have the best chance of reachin’ Debbs this time of day. Don’t call her Debbie, or she’ll chew you out for fifteen minutes.”

“Noted.” Ford nodded.

Stan returned to the gift shop. Someone had to keep an eye on the vending machine, after all. Of course, he was also going to keep an ear on Ford’s call, to make sure the nerd didn’t worm his way out of actually asking for permission. 

When they were kids growing up in New Jersey, Stan and Ford would often listen in on their mother’s customers by carefully picking up the second receiver downstairs in the pawn shop. All they had to do was cover the mic and be careful not to giggle too much, and even their mom wouldn’t realize they were listening in until either one of them laughed too loud or dropped the phone. Stan’s landline had a second receiver in the gift shop, right next to the cash register.

The old conman picked up the phone, pressed his thumb over the mic, and held the speaker up to his ear. Bingo! It was still ringing, and it didn’t seem that Ford realized his brother was listening in, as the old nerd was humming to himself as he waited.

“Hello? Stanford?” Debbs asked as she answered the phone.

Ford's little gasp was amplified by the crackle of his breath into the phone's mic. "H-how did you-- you know who I am?"

"Caller ID, silly!" She explained with a giggle. "I know you're old, Stan, but it's been a thing since the 80's."

"Actually, it's been around since the 60's," Ford corrected her, "although I imagine its use became much more widespread after 1982."

"Uh, yeah… Stanford, are you sick? You sound, um… you don't sound like yourself."

Stan grit his teeth. Sure, rub salt in that wound. Because his brother didn't already hate him enough.

"I'm fine." Ford answered stiffly. "It's an incredibly long story, one I don't have time to relate over the phone now. Suffice to say, I'm more myself now than I've been in the last 30 years. But I have more important things to discuss with you."

"Is everything ok?" Debbs asked, a hint of worry coloring her voice.

Don't mention the dream demon threatening to kill us all! Stan thought desperately.

"Oh, I'm not calling about any trouble." Ford assured her.

Stan breathed a sigh of relief. So his brother wasn't completely clueless after all.

"I'm actually calling because I have a great opportunity for Dipper and Mabel!" The old researcher continued enthusiastically.

"Did you find discounted bus tickets?"

"No. In fact, there's a good chance you won't need to buy bus tickets at all! You see, I'd like to take Dipper on as my apprentice studying the anomalies of Gravity Falls! Mabel is welcome to stay too, although I'll need to find an appropriate teacher for her as soon as I take care of… ah, some more pressing matters in my work. I promise you, I'll make sure they continue to keep in regular contact with you through weekly letters, and with modern communications technology, you'll be able to talk with them face-to-face whenever you like. We'll also make time to come down and visit as often as our studies will allow. All I need is your permission for them to continue their stay here."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Finally, Debbs giggled nervously, like she was forcing herself to laugh at a joke she didn't get.

"Uhhh, that's great Stan. Are you practicing one of your new sales pitches on me?"

"I assure you, this is not one of my brother's schemes." Ford insisted. "You're my family, I would never expect any kind of compensation, regardless of how much the price of a secondary education had risen."

"Secondary education? I don't understand. What are you talking about?"

"I realize they're both at a seventh-grade level now, but I have twelve PhD's. With my one-on-one personalized teaching, even Mabel could begin learning at the college level in a couple of years. As for Dipper, I'm confident he could reach that level before next summer."

“No.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll need to speak to your husband about it first, but we’ve still got another week to come to an agreement.”

Debbs' voice switched from sweet and patient to icy and venomous. "Listen, I dunno who you think you are, but you're not getting my kids!!"

“Y-you misunderstand me.” Ford’s voice faltered. “I don’t want to take your kids away from you, I’m just trying to give them a better education than what’s available to them back in California. Like I said, we’ll keep in regular contact, and we’ll come to visit--”

“Oh, I don’t care what kinda ‘better education’ you’re offering!” Debbs snapped sharply. “Nothing is worth being separated from my children!”

“What? But… but you’re separated from them right now! You’ve been separated for months! Why is it suddenly a problem now?” Ford asked in confusion.

“Two and a half months.” Debbs clarified. “Two and a half months so they could get out of the city and spend some time in the great outdoors, and even that’s been hard. And you expect me to just… just let my babies move away?”

“E-everyone moves away from home eventually, though.” Ford reasoned. “Surely, you don’t want them to still be living with you when they’re in their thirties!”

“Eventually, maybe. But not when they’re barely even thirteen!” She retorted. “Now you listen to me Stanford, or whoever you are. My kids had better be on the bus back to Piedmont come next Friday, or I’m coming up there to get them myself. And you’d better believe if I have to do that, they’re never going back to Gravity Falls again!”

With that, she hung up. Stan quickly hung up as well, so Ford didn’t notice the line was still active. 

“...Great.” Stan hissed to himself, massaging his temples. That stress headache was really setting in now. 

He’d been counting on this talk with the kids’ folks to be a wake-up call to Ford, but he hadn’t stopped to think about how much damage control he was gonna have to do afterwards. How could he have forgotten how much of an interpersonal relationship disaster his brother was? He should have been there in the same room with Ford, coaching him through it, making sure the nerd didn’t screw things up for both of them like this. 

Stan picked the phone back up and dialed Deborah’s number, hoping against all logic that she’d pick up. He needed to fix this, or he might never be allowed to see the kids again. The old conman felt a wave of relief when she actually answered.

“Debbs, that wasn’t me on the phone just now!” He shouted into the receiver the moment he heard her pick up.

“Yeah, I kinda figured.” she replied. “Do you know who that was? What’s going on?”

“Uh… just some guy I went to highschool with back in Jersey.” The best way to sell a lie is with a bunch of technically true facts. “He’s here visiting.”

"What is his problem!?"

“I dunno, Debbs, he’s got some serious issues.” Stan rolled his eyes. “But, you know I’d do anything to make sure Dipper and Mabel come home safe to you, right? You don’t gotta worry.”

“I know, Stanford, and I appreciate the sentiment, but I’d really don’t feel comfortable with the kids spending time with your friend.”

“We, uh, we’re not exactly friends anymore.” Stan clarified, his heart sinking.

"Well, that should make it easier to tell him to stay away from my children."

Stan had originally just called Debbs back to reassure her and make sure he didn't lose the privilege of taking care of the kids. He'd done that. He could just say 'You got it' and hang up, but he didn't. Instead he found himself opening up his mouth and defending his brother.

"Look, I know he was way out of line, tryin' to ask you to send the kids up here year-round, but I swear to you, he doesn't mean 'em any harm. He, uh, he's been on his own for a long time, and he's been through some terrible stuff. I'm not exaggerating when I say Dipper and Mabel are probably the best thing to happen to him in 30 years. He wasn't great with people before, and all that time alone definitely didn't help. I tried to tell him he couldn't just invite the kids to stay here all year, but he wouldn't listen to me. So I told him to call you. I shouldn'ta done that, I'm sorry. It, uh, it's my fault."

Stan wasn’t sure why he was sticking his neck out for his brother like this, but regardless of how he and his brother felt about each other, Stan knew the kids loved Ford, and the nerd loved them right back. Even if Mabel was really upset with Ford right now. If the girl could forgive someone like Pacifica Northwest, she'd definitely make up with her mysterious new uncle who spoke in overdramatic monologues and sent her to look for unicorns. It would break all three of their hearts if they weren’t allowed to see each other any more. 

Debbs sighed, but it was with more fondness than frustration. “Helping someone heal from trauma does sound just like my little angels… but can you promise me he’s not dangerous?”

Stan remembered what he’d told Dipper, just last week. My brother is a dangerous know-it-all… 

But hey, he was already an expert at lying to his family.

“Yeah, sure, I promise. And if it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure he’d take a bullet for either of them. Not, heh, not that he would ever need to!”

“Well, ok. I suppose that’s the best I can ask for, short of driving up there and having a talk with him myself.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t recommend it. We’re at peak tourist season here, the Mystery Shack’s a hive of activity.” Stan said, looking out over the deserted gift shop.

“Well, thanks for taking time out of your busy schedule to call me.”

“Hey, family comes first.”

“Too right. Oh, and I never got your… uh, acquaintance’s name.”

“Fffffrank.”

“Ok. Please try and have another talk with Frank. I know you said he wouldn’t listen to you, but--”

“Oh trust me, I’m gonna have a long talk with him.”

“Thank you, Stan. Take care!”

“Yeah, you too.” Stan hung up and turned to his handyman. “Soos, hold down the fort for me, and keep an eye on the vending machine. I gotta go have another talk with my brother.”

[portalford]

Another Life or Another Dream

AO3

Stanford Pines is seven years old and can’t sleep.

His brother, Stanley Pines—also seven—can’t sleep either.

These things may or may not be directly related.

“Sixer, s’like, the middle of the night.”  Stan, still mostly asleep, pulls a pillow over his face.

Ford, hanging upside down off his bed, swats the pillow away.  “It’s two in the morning, Stanley.”

“Yeah?  S’worse.”  Stan pats around for the pillow for about three seconds before giving up and tossing his arm over his eyes.  “Go back to sleep.”

“I can’t.”

That gets him one open eye.  “Didja try lyin’ down.”

“Yes, Stanley.”  

Both eyes open now.  “Bad dreams?”

Ford hesitates a moment, two, before admitting, “Yes.”

Stan is scowling, but Ford knows it’s not at him.  “Want me to go check in the closet?”

“No.”

“Under the bed?”

“No.”

Stan’s scowl has morphed into a frown.  He’s thinking.  

“I fell asleep reading a book about monsters,”  Ford offers.  Maybe if Stanley has more information he’ll be able to help.  “I didn’t get to the part about how to fight them—maybe if I read that it’ll help.”

Stan, wide awake now, stands up on his mattress so Ford doesn’t have to lean out so far.  “Want me t’ listen so I’ll know too?”

Ford had really been hoping for this, but he offers Stan an out, just in case: “You sure?”

“Yeah, dude.”  Stan bounces up; Ford catches his arm and helps drag him up into the top bunk.  “You think I’d miss a chance to punch a monster?”

“You wouldn’t miss a chance to punch anything.”

“‘Xactly.”  Stan pokes him in the ribs, right where he’s ticklish.  Ford scoots away before either of them can escalate things.  “Start readin’, Sixer.”

Ford opens the book to the correct chapter and clears his throat, like the announcers on the radio do when they have something important to say.  “All right.  ‘Changelings are fearsome creatures, but they are not invincible.  There are some weaknesses you can exploit, should you be faced with this beast…”

*****

Stanford Pines is twenty years old and can’t sleep.

Fiddleford is awake as well, but he seems happy with this state of affairs, blankets pulled up to his chin to ward off the chill of their poorly-equipped dorm and weighty book of advanced mechanics balanced on his knees.

Most nights, Ford is perfectly content to work well into the earliest hours of the morning, and sometimes straight through until classes the next day.

With the current state of his throat, head, and overall wellness, however, he would welcome unconsciousness over the awful half-alert state he’s been in most of the day.

A stifled cough escapes—his control is slipping, after twenty-three hours of forcing his mind and body to operate at normal capacity—and catches Fiddleford’s attention.

“Stanford?”  Fiddleford lowers the book just enough to see over it.  “Y’alright?”

Ford discreetly clears his throat.  “Fine, yes.”  Damn.  He still sounds like he’s dragging his voice over a gravel road.

Fiddleford’s book is lying in his lap now, disregarded.  “You sure about that?”  

He’s using the tone that means he knows Ford is lying, and that he’s allowing one more chance for Ford to tell the truth of his own volition.  Ford ignores it.  “Certainly.”

Fiddleford is glaring overtop of his glasses now.  “Stanford Pines, you are sick as a dog, and lying like one t’boot.”

Ford badly wants to make a sarcastic response, but he’s no longer sure he can speak without setting himself off coughing.  He settles for a shrug.

“Did you take anything?”

Another shrug.

“Heaven’s sakes, Stanford.”  Fiddleford tosses his book aside and bustles off to the drawer that contains various over the counter medications (his), snacks (his), and spare pencils (Ford’s).

Two minutes and no less than six furious and deathly sincere threats of shoving aspirin “down your stubborn gullet God help me I’ll do it,”  Ford has been coerced into taking painkillers and drinking a glass of water.  Fiddleford offered to run out and get soup and crackers, but Ford refused.  Fiddleford has a test tomorrow—he should be sleeping.

“It ain’t until tomorrow afternoon, knucklehead,”  Fiddleford says when Ford suggests this.  “I got time.”  A moment of silence.  “Still can’t sleep?”

Ford makes a vague gesture with his hand to the affirmative.  Now that Fiddleford knows he’s ill, there’s no need to try and keep up a facade of being well.

“My sister used t’read to me when I couldn’t sleep.”  Fiddleford hefts his book.  “This stuff’ll put me to sleep, and I like mechanics.  I bet it’ll work on you.”

“Bet it won’t,”  Ford rasps.

“I’m not takin’ that bet because you’ll kill yourself to win.”  Fiddleford fluffs his pillow behind him, clearly settling in for the night.  “I’m gonna read out loud and you can tell me to shut up whenever.”  He harrumphs and starts from what’s clearly the middle of a sentence in the middle of a chapter.  “—can be modified to accept most kinds of springs.”

Ford doesn’t tell him to shut up.

*****

Stanford Pines is twenty-eight years old and can’t sleep.

To be entirely truthful (and the rarity with which he is truthful these days, even to himself, would be disturbing if he could dredge up the energy to feel disturbed), he can’t remember the last time he did sleep.  Possibly three days ago.

Now, being unconscious while a multi-dimensional demon uses your body for nefarious means probably should not count as sleep, but the other option was to admit that he truly could not remember the last time he slept, and that was unacceptable.

So.  Three days ago.

His house is freezing.  He’s had this thought many times in the past however-long-it’s-been, and every time it takes him longer and longer to remember that this is because he fell behind on his heating bill at some point Before.

Absurd things, bills.  He should have built that self-sustaining generator and taken his house off the grid entirely.  Why hadn’t he?

Ah.  Yes.  

Anyway, the cold makes him sluggish, but not sleepy, so it’s nothing to be concerned about.  Imagine being concerned with something like the temperature.

Ridiculous.  There are thousands of things much more concerning than the measure of hot or cold, and he is dealing with approximately nine hundred and fifty-three of them.

This is not an exaggeration.  He did the math a few days (months? years?) ago. 

Oh, it would have been three days ago—he remembers because he came to groggy and wondering when theoretical mathematics made his ribs hurt.  His head, certainly, if the problem was knotty enough, but surely not his ribs?

Realization had set in a moment later (as had the ever-impending panic attack, but let’s not dwell on that).

The glass of water he’d been drinking falls from his hand, apparently for no reason.  He stares at it blankly, mind automatically attempting to draw patterns in the spattered liquid and crystalline shards of glass.

Another part of him offers some comparison between his own mind and the shatter-shapes of the glass.  He promptly silences that part.

He’s shivering.  Probably it’s why he dropped the glass.  Probably it’s the cold.

He tucks his hands under his armpits.  That should help.

Still.  Best not to sleep.

*****

Stanford Pines is fifty-something years old and can’t sleep.

His sleep schedule is haphazard, but the sleep itself is better than it has been in years.  Complete and utter exhaustion will do that for a man.

The nightmares don’t even wake him up every time anymore, so those ones don’t count.

Unfortunately, tonight he’s let himself go past ‘exhausted to the point of collapse’ and right into ‘exhausted to the point of being too wired to sleep’.

Nothing Bill has or ever will put him through could rival the sheer torture of this state of being.  He takes a moment to enjoy being able to think such a thing without fear that Bill will pull the thought from his head and use it against him.  Only a moment, though—his concentration is too fragmented for anything more.

He won’t take anything to help himself sleep—he never does.  He can’t.  A single moment of grogginess could be a moment too many, and he won’t take that risk.

He falls back on well-worn techniques instead—cataloguing the constellations of different worlds, conjugating pluperfect Kesslian verbs, translating a poem he heard at a campfire one time.

He doesn’t think about Earth.  Somehow that never helps.

There is one thing to say for running so utterly on empty:

once you fall asleep, you’re far too tired to dream.

*****

Stanford Pines is fifty-eight years old and can’t sleep.

He was asleep, until about thirty seconds ago.

He much prefers being awake.

His hands are shaking and his heart is pounding and judging from the pain when he twists to look at the clock, he probably wrenched his back again.

There is nothing yellow in the room.  The only omen of Bill is the remembered laughing cacophony in his head.

Sometimes, in more morbid moments, he fancies that the metal plate reinforcing his skull only gives Bill better ambiance and acoustics for his fits of hysterics.

His back is aching and it’s still hours before anyone else will be up and he can’t tell if the faint tremor in his body is from exhaustion or the nightmare.

He still prefers being awake.

*****

Stanford Pines is fifty-eight years old and can’t sleep.

It isn’t because of nightmares or illness.  There are no demons, real or imagined, and he isn’t lost in another dimension.

“And then what, Grunkle Ford?”

It is, in fact, because of two small children with an insatiable appetite for stories.

Ford smiles at Mabel.  She’s far more likely to air her impatience with his theatrical and intentionally-provoking pauses than Dipper, though her twin’s expression matches her eagerness.

“Are you sure you want to know?”  He asks, just for that little bit more.

Mabel does not disappoint.  She swats at him—she has quite an arm; Ford wouldn’t be surprised if Stan has been giving her boxing lessons—and yells “YES!”

“C’mon, Grunkle Ford, tell us,”  Dipper cajoles.

“All right, all right.”  He leans in, as though to tell them a secret, and they mimic the motion, eyes bright with anticipation.  “The ice would have crushed the boat if we had tried to go through—so we went over instead.”

Bafflement.  “What?”

“We flew.”

Astonishment.  “It was a flying ship?”

Ford laughs.  He can’t help it—their unfeigned delight at the strangeness of the universe reminds him of days when his eyes had been that bright, his wonder that unfettered.

He is living those days vicariously through them for now, for now, but—maybe not forever.

He has hope that he will live them for himself again someday soon.

He has hope for a lot of things now, actually.

It’s nice.

Mabel opens her mouth to ask what is probably seven or eight questions all at once, and lets the air out in an ear-piercing squeal as Stan swoops in from behind and swings her up onto his shoulders.  He catches Dipper with his other hand, tucking the boy up under his arm.  “All right, you little gremlins, time to hit the sack.”

“Awwww—”

“But Grunkle Stan—”

“Don’t ‘but Grunkle Stan’ me, kiddo.”  He gives Dipper a little shake, nearly dropping him in the process.  He is either not aware of or ignoring the fact that Mabel has stolen his hat and is trying to find some way to wear it that will not impede her vision.  “Ford’s got enough nerd stories to last ten of your young lifetimes.  Trust me—I’d know.”

Ford makes a bit of a face at that.  He has to stop it from twisting into a smile when Stan makes a much more exaggerated face in return.

“Could you do the monster chase game, Grunkle Stan? Please?”  Mabel’s eyelash-batting is entirely wasted due to the fact that Stan can’t see her, but it adds something to her plea nonetheless.

“What’s in it for me?”

“We’ll go to bed without complaining?”  Dipper offers.

“If you catch us we’ll pick up the whole yard tomorrow!”

Ford and Dipper give near-identical winces at Mabel’s recklessness.  

Stan, of course, is immediately sold.

“Done,” he says.  He swings Mabel off his shoulders and lets Dipper down, but keeps hold of both of them.  “Hope both of you are ready to lose all your free time.”

“Big words,”  Mabel challenges.

Stan snorts.  “On my mark—readysetgo!”

They’re off, Stan roaring in a fairly good imitation of the giant six-legged creature of unknown origin Ford had run across on D-272, and Dipper and Mabel laughing and shouting as they barrel toward the stairs.

It’s impossible to sleep through this racket.

Ford doesn’t mind at all.

[catxtopia]

Lips Of a Stranger} Chp. 10

Author: catxtopia

Ship: Billdip ((fluffy))

Characters: Dipper Pines, Mabel Pines, Bill Cipher, Gideon Gleeful

Summary: The Night Vale AU no one asked for.

Author notes: I am back on my bullshit, lets finish this.

chap.1 | chap.2 | chap.3 | chap. 4 |  chap. 5&6 | chap. 7 |  chap. 8 | chap. 9

Read: ao3

((HOHO Betcha thought you saw the last of me.

Four years late but hey I fricken finished this shit! I sat down literally yesterday after a kind person commented that they still wait for updates on this story (srsly so sorry and you're so sweet holly heck, never say comments don't totally motivate a writer) and finished this. I already had this chapter written many years ago but I didn't wanna post it until I finished the rest (so sorry for my dumb past self). So this one sounds pretty much the same as the rest of the story, however cannot confirm for the rest of the work.

I haven't written in ages, I don't particularly like writing anymore if I am being honest. I am not great at it but I have a lot of ideas lmao. So I just wanna preface that the ending... probably not great lol. I will have a full report on the last chapter, however, on my old ideas for this story and what I thought it could be. There is probably a lot of plot holes and unanswered things but I tried^^;;;

Anyways, I'll upload either every day or every other day depending. But this shall finally be finished lads! (also no beta, we're animals here)))

“You found it!?”

Lying still, yet menacingly, on the kitchen table was a maroon journal with a black number 1 inked firmly in the center. It was larger than an average book and much worse for wear, the red leather was ripped and mystery blotches were smudged in several different locations on the cover. Mabel and Dipper stood around the object that had been of desire for so long. Neither made a move to touch it, treating it like an old relic—which it very well could have been as far as Dipper knew.

“Yeah, it was in this wired compartment in a tree outside.” Dipper scratched lightly at his chin, eyes roaming over the book. His fingers itched with curiosity for he had yet to open and examine the contents inside. He wasn’t sure if he should, waiting for Cipher seemed like the logical option but that required calling the man, followed by seeing him again, and the thought of meeting gold eyes sent his stomach through all kinds of loops. Thus, his phone stayed promptly in his pocket where it felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.

“Compartment in a tree, huh?” Mabel repeated, a confused look crossing her face. She, too, moved her hand to rub lightly at her chin in thought. “How’d you come across that?”

Dipper stiffened ever so slightly, and then casted a glance at his intrigued sister. He cleared his throat and shifted to stuff his hands in his pockets roughly. “I just, ya know, fell against it.” He shrugged, trying his best to remain cool—which was, to say, impossible when it came to Dipper Pines.

“Fell against it, hm?” Mabel’s eyebrow slowly started rising.

“Yes, I fell against it!” Dipper sputtered, looking away towards the book again. “The details of how I found the book aren’t important. What is important is that I found it !”

Mabel stifled her giggles as much as her lips would allow. “Whatever you say, Bro bro.” She mused and leaned over the dusty object, intentionally ignoring the tomato that was now her brother beside her. He’d been through enough teasing this morning, she’d let him off the hook this once. “What do you thinks inside?”

Dipper leaned back against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “No idea.” He quietly thought back to the times he and Cipher were looking for said book. A distant memory of going to the junkyard and the words black magic and demons , danced in the back of his mind but he elected to ignore those warnings. If the book really was dangerous, there was no way Cipher would be looking for it. At least that’s what Dipper told himself.

“Are you going to open it?” Mabel quirked a brow, eyes not leaving the book.

Dipper shifted against the counter. “I don’t know, Mabes. Maybe we should wait for Cipher to open it first.”

Mabel pursed her lips and squinted at the book.

There was a long pause, the only sound being whispers from the TV playing in the other room. Then Mabel, with a big intake of breath, announced loudly: “I am gonna open it.” And quickly flipped the front cover open.

“Mabel!” Dipper yelped, but his words fell on deaf ears as the young girl turned another page, and then another. “Mabes, seriously, be careful with it! We don’t know what it is, it could be super old and crumble at human touch! Who knows what—”

As Dipper rambled on and on, Mabel’s quick movements tentatively began to slow. She flipped only one more page before stopping and taking in a soft gasp, voice riddled with distraught. “Oh my gosh.” She whispered breathlessly. Dipper paused in his ranting, staring at the back of his sister's head since he couldn’t see the book around her. “I can’t believe this.”

“What?” He inquired, a drop of unease plopping into the pits of his stomach. Mabel’s shoulders were tense; body rigged with what Dipper could only assume was fear. She looked as though she was witnessing a demon rise out from the pits of hell, or at the very least like her sweaters were being set aflame. And throughout it all, all Dipper could hear were McGucket’s warnings ringing loud and clear inside his jumbled head. “That books bad news I tell ya! Black magic, raising devils, kinda bad news! Nothin good ever came out of that thing.” Dipper cringed at the voice. “What is it?”

“It’s terrible…” Mabel whispered, leaning further over the book. Her hair draped over the yellowing pages, eyes hidden behind thick bangs. “Cipher, he’s…”

“What? What about Cipher?” Dipper stepped closer. He could feel his heart thump a little faster with each step he took towards his sister.

“He’s a…” The girl moved back, turning swiftly to face her brother. Her face was red and cheeks puffed out, eyes leaking frustrated tears and— “ He’s a giant nerd just like you!” She exclaimed dramatically, throwing one hand towards the opened journal and another over her stomach as she doubled over laughing.

Dipper stared, dumbfounded as his sister flopped onto the tabled to keep from falling onto the floor. She was wheezing and stomped a foot every so often, trying to regain her breathing. He couldn’t believe this. “Mabel.” Dipper squinted hard at the girl. The only answer he got was more laughing and a few arm flails. “Mabel, you jerk.” Dipper sighed, but a small smile was tugging at his lips.  

“Oh! Oh!” Mabel giggled, laughter beginning to die out into soft gasps. “Oh my gosh, yo- your face!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dipper rolled his eyes. “You got me.” Behind his ribs, his heart was still pounding with adrenaline. He willed his limbs to stop their jittery shakes and calm the hell down. There was nothing to worry about, Mabel was just being her usual dork self. He looked towards the open book finally, now being able to get a good view of it. “So what’s in this thing, anyways?”

Having calmed down a bit, Mabel slipped across the kitchen in her fluffy pink socks, clamped onto the fridge handle and yanked it open to retrieve a can of Pit Cola. She juggled it in her hands, closing the door again with her hip. As she snapped the can open she explained lightly, “Looks like a dictionary for supernatural stuff to me. Really wired, it’s all hand written and stuff.” She paused and took a big gulp of her drink.

Dipper nodded and examined the scribbles and notes about different creatures. His eyes widened the further he flipped from page to page, completely entranced with the object sitting before him. It was no wonder Cipher wanted this thing, the stories he could produce with the book would be endless!

“This is amazing.” Dipper breathed. Gnomes, Zombies, Ghosts, this book was like a paranormal junkies Holy Grail.  

Mabel hummed and jumped up onto the counter. “It makes sense why Cipher would want this. I am sure he will be happy you found it.” She mused, swinging her legs back and forth to the rhythm of a song stuck in her head. “Now you guys don’t have to go searching anymore! That’ll probably be a big nuisance off his shoulders.”

Dipper hummed absentmindedly as he drew his finger along the edge of the book, a thin layer of dust bunched up and latched onto his finger. He pulled his hand back, pinching the ball of dirt between his thumb and index finger till the grains rolled off his skin. He wondered briefly how long the book had been in that tree for, and for what reason.

“No more long hours trekking through stores and the occasional dumpster. I wonder if this old thing will help him with his work, or if that’s even what he wanted it for.” Mabel muttered against the rim of her soda can.

Dipper’s fingers instantly stilled, entire body freezing like someone had pushed a pause button on the boy’s life. No more long hours trekking through stores and the occasional dumpster . The words bounced around in his head several times and every repeat left a horrible taste in his mouth. He gulped and dropped his hand, brushing it harshly against his faded jeans. “Yeah, don’t know.” He bit out.

A minute ago he’d been excited to see Cipher’s reaction to his discovery, because damn it he was proud! And maybe boasting a little in the ego department. Now dread was filling up his core. No more time with Cipher…

Mabel slurped at her drink loudly, oblivious to the way her brother scooped up the book with a hesitant hand. “So, when are you gonna tell him?” She looked up past her wavy bangs, confused to find Dipper retreating towards the stairs at a quick pace. “Dipper?”

.:.:.

Dipper paced along the length of his bedroom, feet scuffing against the hardwood floor. He could practically feel the wood splintering away with each step he took. It was only a matter of time before he’d run a rut in the floor. He could hardly bring himself to care; however, as he gnawed at his thumbnail in a simple attempt to help distract his brain.

This was stupid, Dipper was stupid. He could hardly believe he was even thinking about the train of thought that he was. Not telling Cipher about the book? What kind of nonsense was that? He had to; it was his moral duty to give up the journal to the radio host. Otherwise, everything they’d done together thus far would be for nothing. The whole reason Dipper was being kept around was for the sole purpose of finding the book.

And once you give the book up, you won’t have a reason to be around Cipher anymore , Dipper thought sullenly. He turned once he paced as far as he could towards the door, changing direction to continue shuffling back the route he came towards the triangle window above his bed. It was a vicious cycle, this back and forth, back and forth. All the while he kept his eyes glued on the ground. He paused when his irises caught sight of a neatly folded pile of clothes at the end of his bed. Black jacket, pants, yellow scarf… A flash of blonde hair and the feel of rough bark against his back blurred past his eyes.

There would probably be no more of that once he gave up the book. Dipper lightly drew a finger against his chapped lips. If he thought hard enough he could still feel the pressure Cipher’s smooth lips had left against his own.

“Oh man.” Dipper mumbled aloud. Here he was worrying over some scraps of paper sewn together, while he should be questioning the fluttering in his chest from earlier interactions.

Cipher had kissed him and he’d be lying if he didn’t say he thoroughly enjoyed it. Both Mabel and Pacifica will be delighted to rub it in his face once they find out.  

Dipper dropped onto his bed with a frustrated groan. Everything was happening all so suddenly, so fast he couldn’t make left or right of the images flashing before his eyes. And it was all because of that darn radio host with his perfect golden hair and otherworldly eyes. Not to mention his lean body that fit so right against Dipper’s the night before, warm like a blanket and oh so comfortable… Dipper shook his head quickly, expelling any further thoughts of Cipher’s body.

Really, Cipher was too handsome for his own good. It was practically supernatural.

Dipper snorted at the thought and fell back against the bed. He stared up at the ceiling, a soft sigh fluttering past his lips. What to do, what to do. He slid his hands up to rest on his chest and began tapping his fingers against his worn shirt.

“So you tell him.” Dipper muttered to himself. “You tell him about the book. It’ll make him happy, probably further his show somehow and bring in more listeners, which will make his work life better.” His fingers paused in their tapping, then slowly started picking up a rhythm again as he let another thought enter his mind. “Or you don’t tell him, you continue looking for the book as if you haven’t already found it and grow closer. Eventually he’ll forget about the book and move on, which will make his personal life better.”

“You don’t tell him and possibly ruin his career .” A voice that sounded eerily similar to Mabel’s rumbled in the back on his head. Ah, the voice of reason. It was bound to come poking its ugly face in here eventually.

“I don’t necessarily know if it’s for his show.” Dipper grumbled, sinking a little further against his bed. Great now he was talking to himself.

“What else would he need it so badly for?”

“I don’t know, curiosity? For a collection, maybe? His life revolves around the supernatural; it’s not that farfetched to want a journal filled on the subject.”

“So you’d rather keep the object of his desire away from him, in the hopes you become that object for him instead. That’s quite selfish.”

“Well no one asked you.” Dipper huffed and rolled onto his side. He stared aimlessly out the triangular window nearby. The sun had already begun to drip close to the tree line, casting an array of colors throughout his room. It was beautiful, really, all oranges and reds, and the occasional pink glow scattering across the shack's rustic interior. His eyes followed the colorful trail of light right back to the pile of clothes at the end of his bed. He stared at the yellow scarf for a long while before he worked up the strength to reach for it.

The fabric was so soft, softer than anything he’d felt before. It was probably really expensive. Dipper tugged the material fully into his palms and laid back down. He held onto the scarf like a blanket, running the pads of his fingers over the kind stitching. “Maybe he won’t leave once he has the book.” Dipper thought aloud once again. He was starting to make a habit out of talking to himself apparently.

It wasn’t like he wanted to keep information from Cipher, especially news that’d make him happy. The paranoia engraved deep in his soul that the man would eventually forget about him if they had no reason to be around each other was just too overpowering. Even though there was a good chance Cipher liked hanging around Dipper for Dipper and not just for his searching skills. It was a big chance, honestly. You don’t just kiss someone you plan on ditching. Cipher seemed like a better person than that, anyways.

But doubt was always louder than hope.

With a quick glance at the clock—which already read 5:10PM—Dipper decided he’d allow himself to sleep on it. It was already late so there was no use calling up Cipher now; he wouldn’t be able to come by until tomorrow anyways.

Settling on that, Dipper rolled over and closed his eyes. Super wouldn’t be ready for another hour or so and a nap sounded like a pleasant idea in the meantime.

.:.:.

Three days.

It’d been three days since Dipper found the old journal hidden in a tree. The journal, which a certain radio host had yet to know, was within Dipper’s possession. It had been shamefully tucked away in the brunet’s desk under a pile of scrap papers. It wasn’t the greatest hiding spot by any means, but Dipper didn’t feel comfortable leaving the relic under his bed or somewhere in his closet. At least in his desk, the book didn’t face any chances of getting ruined.

He stuck the poor book in the bottom drawer with the intention of returning to it in a week – because a night to sleep on deciding to give the book to Cipher just wasn’t enough. He simply wanted a little more time with the radio host to assure he wouldn’t ditch him. That was reason enough, right? In one week time, the book would be given to the blonde man. Until then, Dipper proclaimed he’d live with the guilt and enjoy some downtime with the host.

And what a glorious three days it had been so far. Cipher had been spending a large majority of the days hanging around Dipper’s work again. They’d continued their little routine, but the silence was filled with a lot more bashful glances and sly smiles. The kiss hadn’t been officially mentioned, but the implication that both of them equally enjoyed it and wouldn’t mind doing it again was pretty clearly expressed.

When Dipper wasn’t shackled to his job at the bookstore – and Cipher by extension – they usually ended up spending time around town or the radio station. Very rarely were they away from each other’s side. Not that either was complaining. However, every so often when Dipper would glance Cipher’s way, he’d feel a ball of guilt nibbling away at the core of his stomach. He couldn’t help thinking about the things he was hiding from the man. It didn’t feel right, but at the same time he couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it.

“Do you like your job?”

Cipher blinked open his eyes and tilted his head a little towards the brunet lying somberly beside him. They’d been lying outside on a patch of drying grass a short ways from the radio station, simply enjoying the last few drops of autumn. The sun was high above them, basking them in a nice enough warmth that they only needed light jackets. Cipher was currently wearing the sweatshirt he had borrowed from Dipper a few days prior, having yet to give it up. Not that Dipper really cared, he felt slightly prideful seeing the radio host wearing something of his.

Cipher shifted his arms, which lay beneath his head. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” He looked back towards the calm blue sky. “It’s fun, I like being able to talk about whatever the hell I want for a living. I am not the biggest fan of having to hide behind a curtain all the time, but it comes with the job.”

Dipper hummed, mulling over that information. He flicked his fingers against the zipper on his jacket. “Why do you have to be so secretive? I doubt anyone would like… attack you or something if they knew who you were.”

Cipher chuckled and turned on his side, arm bent and hand holding up his head. Dipper moved in a similar fashion so that they both faced each other. “There are a few reasons. Gideon thinks having me be unnamed makes me more mysterious, that not only the show holds secrets but even the host does.” He shrugged. “Plus, I like being able to live my life without interruptions. I would get annoyed pretty quickly if people were stopping me on the streets or spewing nonsense about me in teen magazines.”

Dipper twirled his fingers around a few blades of grass, tugging them lazily as he listened. “And here I thought you liked attention.”

“Oh don’t get me wrong, I do! I would love people bending at my every need, but I have standards. I wouldn’t be able to sit here with you like this if I was open about my identity, and that’s not something I am quite willing to give up.”

“I guess that… makes sense.” Dipper pondered. “So you’re a man full of secrets then?”

“I am a man with many angles and lots of knowledge of various topics, who happens to also like having a private life, so if that makes me secretive then I guess I am. However, since I like you I’ll tell you my secrets,” Cipher leaned forward, lips curving into a seductive smirk. “for a price~”

Dipper’s cheeks flushed a soft pink, “Oh really? And what’s your price, Cipher?” He mused, putting up his best confident front.

“Hmmm,” Cipher’s eyes flickered from Dipper’s eyes to his lips then quickly back again. “I don’t know, it’d probably have to be something really pricey since I’ve got a lot of secrets.”

Dipper snorted and rolled his eyes, “What like my soul?” He joked and playfully wiggled his eyebrows.

If one were to have blinked in that moment they probably would have missed the way Cipher’s eyes widened and sparked with wonder for a fraction of a second. He continued to smirk at his companion before rolling onto his back to stare up at the sky once again. “Something like that.” He hummed pleasantly. “I am sure your soul would be a beauty.”

Dipper scoffed and flopped over onto his stomach, arms crossing beneath his chin. He closed his eyes and snuggled a little deeper in his jacket. “Don’t all souls look the same? Like a smoking white ball.”

“I think you’ve been playing too many video games.” Cipher flicked at the edge of Dipper’s ear, earning a small yelp and glare from the boy. “Souls come in all colors and shapes, kid. The more corrupted the soul, the worse it looks. What the world considers ‘sinners’ usually look black, less smoky, more goopy. Like a ball of hot, bubbling tar. While good people are bright, wispy, and usually emit a color.”

“You seem to know a lot about this.” Dipper mumbled into the curve of his arm.

Cipher chuckled under his breath. “Call it a passion of mine.”

The two fell into a comfortable silence after that, lying happily beside each other with only the whispers of wind and occasional tweet of a bird filling the silence. They lay close enough that their arms brushed and with a little maneuvering their hands slipped into each other without question.

It was nice, being able to be together like this without any distractions. To simply enjoy each other’s company. Dipper really didn’t want to let this go, and yet as he peeked past his bangs at the still figure beside him, he knew that he would.

“Hey, Cipher.” Dipper said just barely above a whisper. He watched the blonde’s eyebrow twitch but his eyes remained closed.

“Hm?”

“I gotta tell you something, it’s kind of important, it’s about the b—”

Just as the words were about to flutter out of his mouth, a shrill ring of a phone smacked Dipper’s train of thought straight from his head. His lips latched shut and eyes looked down at Cipher’s glowing pocket, which the man was quickly moving to reach.

He flicked the device on and squinted at the screen as if it had personally offended him. Whether that was because it had interrupted Dipper or not, the boy wasn’t sure.

“Sorry, just an email.” Cipher’s expression lightened considerably as he turned the screen to face Dipper. “Look at this cat jumping in and out of boxes! Giffy sent it. Cats are so silly!”

True to his word, there was a cat hopping into different sized boxes with a small message from Giffany at the bottom of the screen. Dipper smiled softly at the ridiculous video. Of course Cipher would find cat videos funny, what doesn’t he find funny? Dipper thought for a moment and came to the conclusion that, nope, Cipher could get a kick out of anything.

As he watched the video play through, Dipper couldn’t help his eyes wandering to the corner of the screen where a list of information sat. At the top of the list was a name, one that had Dipper’s heart stalling. “Uh.” The boy muttered very intelligently.

Cipher tilted his head to the side and furrowed his brows at Dipper’s odd expression. “What? Don’t tell me you don’t find cat videos funny. Cause I don’t think this relationship can work if—”

“Bill?”

[shima-draws]

Remember that one episode in Gravity Falls where Stan loses a bet to Mabel and does that stan-wrong-dance?? Can you write a drabble where Ford finds the footage pls the imagery is so freaking funny lmao

[[Send me a fandom/ship/prompt and I’ll write a drabble for it!]]

I’M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG BUT I FINALLY FINISHED…I had a total blast writing it tho!!

I kinda took your prompt and went way beyond the original concept anjsakbnda so there’s some angst in here because Stan’s a self-sacrificial idiot and Ford almost loses his shit, but I hope you like it nonetheless :’)

Also this ended up being nearly 4k words so. Yeah. That’s why it took so long LOL but hopefully you got more than what you asked for!

This is also on Archive, if you’d rather read it there!

——————————————————–

Ford is absolutely furious.

Now, he’s no stranger to anger, having fallen victim to it many, many times throughout his life. His bouts of rage usually result in catastrophe if he isn’t careful. A prime example: letting Stan get kicked out of the house forty years ago. Or, when his irritation caused a fight between them that ended up in Stan’s permanently scarred shoulder and his own thirty year trip into the multiverse. It’s never simple and it usually doesn’t end well, especially if Stan happens to be on the other side of the argument.

This time, however, is a bit different.

It’s one thing if his brother has done something to piss him off. It’s another if Stanley does something so unbelievably stupid it scares the absolute shit out of Ford. He doesn’t like being angry. He doesn’t like being angry as a result of him being terrified even more.

And so, he’s taken to pacing in his study, trying to let off some steam. He’d separated himself from Stan after lecturing at him for twenty-five minutes about the very many reasons why Stan shouldn’t have charged right into battle against a particularly violent group of bullasps (an enormous wasp-bull anomaly hybrid, helpfully named by Mabel). Stan had come this close to being pierced by one of their enormous stingers—and if he had, well. The venom they secrete works so quickly Ford doubts he would have been able to do anything about it in time. And that is what had triggered his hysteria.

Mabel sits on one of the oversized chairs in the room, munching on a bag of popcorn. She’d followed him after his frustration had shot through the ceiling, needing to get away before he said anything he’d come to regret. Dipper had stayed behind to admonish Stan further, but not as harshly as Ford originally had.

It’s been almost a year since Ford and Stan left Gravity Falls to travel the world together. They’ve had plenty of arguments and heated late night discussions on board the Stan O’ War II, but they’d never escalated to this level. The two of them hashed out all of their past history and mistakes, and they’ve been attached at the hip ever since—but Stanley’s always had a bit of a reckless steak, and Ford will never admit it, but he’s unbelievably overprotective of his twin, especially after the whole shooting-him-with-a-memory-gun thing. (They try not to talk about that, much, mostly because it makes Ford feel so guilty it brings him to tears, and Stan hates seeing him like that.) This sort of takes the cake for every previous situation where Stan has willingly put himself in danger on their journey out at sea. Ford can’t remember the last time he’s felt so high strung.

“I just can’t believe him,” Ford hisses, his fingers tangled in his hair. His heart is still pounding, fear spiking through his veins and making him as taught as a bowstring. “Out of all the reckless, most monumentally moronic—”

“I know you’re upset, Grunkle Ford, but we took care of it!” Mabel points out, trying to be helpful. She does sound worried, though, if her expression has anything to say about it. “Those things ran right off after I used that cannon to shoot that t-shirt into the woods! Who knew bullasps are actually attracted to red things? I thought regular bulls hated the color red!”

Ford can’t help but smile a bit at her observation. “Actually, regular bulls are red-green colorblind, Mabel. It’s not that they particularly dislike the color red, it’s the action of a matador moving their cape that stimulates hyper aggression in—wait, wait, that’s not the point!” He heaves out a sigh. He turns to her and frowns. “Do you—do you even know why I’m so furious with Stanley right now?”

Mabel makes a funny sound with her mouth, her legs kicking back and forth, and then she answers. “‘Cause he shook his butt at them and told them to shove it where the sun don’t shine?”

Ford groans and pinches the bridge of his nose. Could Stan have any less tact? The children are almost 14 now, but still.

“That’s part of it,” he grumbles. “But it’s his insistence on constantly throwing himself headlong into danger before even considering the consequences of doing so. Stanley is—he’s ridiculously defensive of his family, which isn’t a bad quality to have at all, but…it gets him into unnecessary trouble. A lot.”

Mabel looks truly concerned now, which is good. “Is that why you looked like Dipper in the middle of a Wendy crisis when Grunkle Stan almost got hit by one of those super giant sharp and pointy stingers?”

Ford considers telling her that the venom would have killed Stanley in minutes, but then decides he should probably spare her those morbid details.

“Yes. It would have been…very catastrophic if he’d actually come into contact with one.” Ford slumps, suddenly feeling exhausted. “I’ve come this close to losing him once, I…the mere thought of possibly losing him again, and him ending up somewhere I couldn’t ever possibly reach…”

His throat tightens and he feels pressure building behind his eyelids. Emotion makes his heart feel like it’s being constricted, squeezed tight, and he swallows. He’d gone half his life without his brother and he regrets every single minute he didn’t spend by Stanley’s side. Almost losing him to Bill was a huge wake up call, and Ford’s barely been without him since then.

“So that’s why you’re so frowny,” Mabel chirps. Ford can’t tell if she’s totally oblivious to the seriousness of the situation or if she’s just trying to act upbeat for his sake—but he appreciates it either way. “You were pretty scared for him, huh, Grunkle Ford?”

Ford wipes his eyes and nods wordlessly. In the past he might have brushed her off but he knows better now—his family is the most important thing he has, and confiding in them when times are difficult is usually the best course of action.

The young teen hums thoughtfully, scratching her chin, and then her eyes practically light up.

“Wait, hold on! I have an idea,” she says excitedly. Her smile turns wicked. Oh, no. Ford knows that look. He’s been on the receiving end of it many times before.

“Grunkle Ford, have you seen the Stan Wrong Song?”

Ford tilts his head. “The…what?”

Mabel giggles insanely. “The Stan Wrong Song! It’s a song we forced Grunkle Stan to sing after he lost a bet to me.”

“Stanley lost a bet.”

“Uh-huh!”

“To you.” If Ford didn’t know her so well, he’d think she was lying. It’s extremely hard to believe, knowing how brilliant his twin is in the conning department.

Her grin becomes wider, if that’s even possible. Her braces glint in the dim light. “We bet to see who could make more money—me, taking over Grunkle Stan’s position as a morally ambiguous tour guide, or him on vacation. And I won the bet by a dollar! A dollar, Grunkle Ford!”

“Incredible,” Ford breathes, shaking his head.

“We made him sing it at least thirty-six times,” his nibling tells him. She really could give Stan a run for his money with how mischievous she is.

“Or, wait, maybe it was thirty-eight? Anyway, it was a whole lot! We were all singing it for weeks. The power of catchy made up songs prevailed! Grunkle Stan says he hates it, but I hear him singing it in the bathroom sometimes when he thinks I can’t hear him!”

The older man chuckles at that, amused.

“Anyway,” Mabel sing-songs. “Since Grunkle Stan was a dumb-dumb and almost got speared today and scared the bejeebers out of all of us, I think this is a good opportunity to bust that video out and give him a good ol’ dose of shame!”

“You truly are a peculiar girl, Mabel,” Ford says in wonder.

The brunette beams at this, her smile almost blinding.

“Come on,” she says, grabbing his wrist. Her grip is surprisingly strong, and so is the way she tugs him along with her. “It’s payback time! Revenge tastes sweet, like gummy worms!”

——————————————————–

Ten minutes later they’re seated together in the living room, prepared for the show. Mabel has already plugged her phone into the TV, which can broadcast anything she wants, thanks to a helpful little device Fiddleford had made for the family a while back. (It definitely helped when Ford wanted to show off all the videos he’d taken while he and Stan were out at sea on a larger screen for the whole family to watch.)

Stan is nowhere to be seen—which Ford supposes is a good sign as any. He’d rather not have Stan confiscate Mabel’s phone before Ford even gets to watch whatever the young girl is intent on showing him. Dipper’s probably still keeping watch over Stan, so that’s reassuring. He’s sure that there’s nobody more capable of watching his twin, except maybe Soos.

Mabel is practically vibrating in her seat, posture tense with excitement, and Ford fidgets. He’s honestly not sure what to expect—but when the video finally loads and the first thing he sees is Stan in a neon orange track suit covered with sparkles, Ford blinks in shock. He definitely didn’t expect that.

His twin looks like he’d rather be chased by a horrendous monster of the deep than perform in front of the camera, and the deadpan expression on his face has Ford releasing an amused snort.

Stan glances offscreen, gruff and irritated. “Ugh, l-look, I’m not gonna—”

Mabel’s voice interjects before he can finish protesting. “Do it!”

Stan begins to bounce as a song plays in the background. He looks so goofy doing it that Ford starts to giggle a little, the stress of the day rolling off his shoulders.

“I’m Stan and I was wrong.” Stan sings, dryly, with all the emotion of a desert cactus. “I’m singing the Stan Wrong Song.”

Something in Ford breaks, then—and he’s laughing, incredulously, sort of struck dumb by the whole situation. Mabel sniggers beside him. Stan starts to swing his arms, and Ford wheezes. His brother looks so foolish. Ford is absolutely reveling in it. (He’s so using this for blackmail material later.)

“I shouldn’t have taken that chance. Now here’s my remorseful dance,” Stan finishes, pouty and clearly embarrassed.

“Do the kicks!” Mabel’s voice calls out again, and Stan makes a feeble attempt at performing a kick, to which she demands them to be “Jazzier!”

It’s when Gompers comes in and starts a tug of war match with Stan that’s one for the history books that Ford loses it completely. The entire thing is just so wild and hysterical that he can’t help it, clutching at his side as he laughs and laughs and laughs. The video resets, going back to the beginning, and Ford happily sits through it again.

By the time the video loops for the fifth round Ford is howling with laughter, nearly bowled over by the force of it. His side has a stitch and it hurts and he’s pretty sure he’s crying but he can’t stop, too overwhelmed at the hilarity of his brother in a sparkly suit singing a song clearly meant to humiliate him—and maybe it’s the fact that Stan had had another close brush with death earlier and the built up tension from the incident that has him letting it all out through his chortles. Mabel is giggling madly beside him—whether she’s laughing at Stan or laughing at him laughing at Stan is unclear, but it’s contagious, and Ford can’t stop smiling.

God, how utterly ridiculous this all is. He loves his family.

The video is on its eighth loop and Ford is pretty sure he’s going to pass out from lack of oxygen when Stan bursts into the room, his eyes wide. Dipper follows close behind.

“What’s going on in—Ford?!”

Stan rushes over to him, his face drawn up in concern, and Ford’s heart melts a little. He might still be angry at his twin for scaring him half to death, but really, Stan’s mother hen tendencies never fail to make him smile.

“Ford—Jesus, you’re cryin’, Sixer! What the hell happened?”

Ford giggles and wipes the tears from his eyes, struggling to get his breathing back under control. “I’m—ahaha! I’m fine, Stanley.”

“With all the noise you were making, I thought you were dying,” Stan says with a worried frown. “It sounded like you were in pain or—”

Ford playfully rolls his eyes and nudges him in the shin with his foot.

“Now you know how I feel.”

Once he finally settles down, and when Mabel’s tittering fades, Stan finally registers the video playing behind him. His face immediately goes ash white, his expression quickly morphing into one of utter horror, and if Ford weren’t so wiped out by nearly laughing his ass into unconsciousness he’d probably start doing it again.

Dipper sees what they’re watching and he snorts, covering his mouth to hide any further giggles from coming out.

"Mabel, pumpkin?”

Mabel is the picture of pure innocence, her smile sickly sweet. “Yes, Grunkle Stan?”

“Either I’m having memory issues again or I swear I made you promise me in confidence that you would never ever show this video to Ford,” Stan says, slowly. His grin is wide and almost terrifying. If Ford didn’t know how much Stan loves Mabel he would have thought his twin was seriously considering strangling her. “And what did you do?”

“I showed the video to Ford,” Mabel says, looking shameful. She twirls a piece of long brown hair around her finger. Ford chokes back a bark of laughter at how well she’s pulling this off.

“Don’t be too hard on her, Stan,” Ford soothes in an attempt to curb his brother’s embarrassment. “She was only trying to help.”

Stan simply pouts, and suddenly all Ford can see is a young boy, cheeks bright red from the sun, childishly complaining about having to wear glasses because he thinks it’ll make him look like a nerd. Something warm blooms inside Ford’s chest and he bites his cheek, trying not to get lost in the memory of their childhood.

“How is this helping anything,” Stan mumbles, his cheeks flushing a charming shade of pink.

“It’s teaching you some humility,” Ford states, crossing his arms. “Maybe you should sing it again, Stanley.”

“What?!” His twin barks in outrage.

“He does have a point, Grunkle Stan,” Dipper provides helpfully from where he’s now lounging on the couch with Mabel. The video continues to loop, much to Stan’s chagrin. “You did do something wrong today.”

“Wh—are you still on about that? My god,” Stan groans, throwing his head back. “I was trying to be, ya know, heroic! Live up to my title.”

Ford is tempted to kick him again, but harder. His glare makes the other man wilt slightly.

“You already live up to your title, Stan,” Ford points out. “You don’t have to throw yourself in front of a beast with a toxicity level of 94 percent to prove that.”

“94? Holy crow, that’s high,” Dipper squeaks.

“You’ve already saved the world and paid the price for it once,” Ford continues. He slumps a bit in his chair, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up to him. “Please, Stan, you have to understand—there’s no point in trying to protect us if we lose you in the process. It’s just…just…” And he shakes his head, frustrated that he can’t put it into words properly.

“Okay, alright,” Stan says sheepishly, edging closer to where he’s sitting. “I get it. I didn’t mean to scare ya. It’s just habit for me to be self-sacrificial at this point.”

“That’s a terrible habit!” Mabel accuses.

“She’s right,” Ford mumbles. “If you hadn’t…if that stinger had come into contact, you would have…and then I…I…” He chokes up, his eyes watering. His heart clenches painfully, fear making his body feel like it’s encased in ice. “If I lost you…”

“Hey, easy there on the waterworks, Poindexter,” Stan teases lightly. He holds his hands out in a pacifying gesture. “I’m fine, see? Still in one piece. Mostly.”

“This isn’t funny, Stanley! How can you still refuse to comprehend—ugh!”

Ford is nearly tearing his hair out in frustration now, his teeth grinding together. Seriously, how can his brother still be such an idiot? He thought the lecturing and the clear distress the rest of the family is expressing would be enough to make Stan realize, but—

Stan folds his arms, huffing, and Ford notes that his face is coloring again. Mabel and Dipper gaze at him curiously, and before Ford can question his twin, Stan releases a soft, irritated noise from his throat.

“I’m Stan and I was wrong,” Stan mutters.

Ford blinks in shock.

The other man sighs, a deep-sounding one that slackens his posture. “I’m singing…the Stan Wrong Song.”

Mabel makes a high-pitched keen of excitement, and Dipper grins. Ford almost falls right out of his chair.

He isn’t sure what’s more surprising—Stan willingly putting his pride on the line, or begrudgingly singing about his mistake in front of the family, who he knows are more than capable of holding this against him.

“I shouldn’t have taken that chance…”

Stan edges closer until he’s standing over Ford, his cheeks the color of a ripe apple.

“I’m sorry, okay? Now will you please forgive me already?”

Something lodges itself in Ford’s throat, and his whole body feels as if it’s being flooded with warmth. Even after all this time, Stan still puts his want for Ford’s forgiveness over everything else. His heart glows.

“Stanley…”

“Don’t gimme that look,” Stan grumbles, refusing to meet his eyes.

The older twin beams and launches himself out of his chair, scooping his brother up in a hug.

“Wh—Ford?!”

Ford nuzzles happily into Stan’s hair, grinning wide.

“Thank you, Stanley.”

“What! You cannot leave me out of this family hug action!” Mabel cries, leaping off the couch to run over and throw her arms around her Grunkles’ legs.

“Squeeeeze!” She says, squeezing them tight. Ford laughs jubilantly and Stan rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile that refuses to go away on his face.

Mabel presses her nose into Stan’s leg for a moment, and then she looks over her shoulder at Dipper.

“Come on, Dippin Dots, you know you want in on this!”

Dipper rolls his eyes but slides off the couch nonetheless, coming over to circle them before ending up beside Ford in the group hug.

The young girl starts giggling, a happy, wonderful sound that makes Ford’s heart swell like a balloon. He feels all sorts of fuzzy, the euphoria of being with the people he loves the most—and with his twin, his other half, the person who almost gave his life for him today—making him burst into merry laughter as well. Soon enough Dipper joins them, and finally, Stan is roped into it, their laughter too contagious to ignore.

When they finally all calm down, Ford nudges his head against Stan’s temple. So maybe he’s feeling a bit clingy now, so what?

“Next time you do something like that again I will sneak horrifying body-altering concoctions into your coffee,” Ford tells him way too cheerfully for someone who’s threatening possible disfiguration.

“Yikes, Sixer. What sort of crap did you learn how to do on the other side of that portal?”

“I know how to disembody someone in a total of 103 unique ways,” Ford responds brightly while he rubs his cheek against Stan’s shoulder, hiding a grin into his shirt.

Much to his delight, Stan stiffens beneath him, and Ford almost laughs.

“Remind me not to get on your bad side,” Stan gruffs, patting him on the back. He pauses. “…Again.”

“Hey,” Dipper playfully elbows Stan. “Grunkle Stan, you didn’t finish.”

Mabel’s entire face lights up, and her smile is blinding—and devilish. “Oh, that’s right! You didn’t finish, Grunkle Stan! You have to commit to it all the way!”

Stan looks down at them, puzzled. He tries to squirm out of Ford’s hold but Ford just hums and hugs him tighter, his forehead pressing against the man’s shoulder.

Stan promptly gives up on getting free (because he knows from experience once Ford starts clinging it’s all over). Instead, he addresses the younger twins with an air of confusion.

“What are you gremlins going on about? Finish what?”

“Your song, silly!” Mabel chirps.

Dipper nods, his smirk matching his sister’s. “Yeah, you didn’t sing the entire thing. Or even do the dance! That was a pretty lackluster performance if you ask me.”

Stan’s face draws up in horror. “Oh, no.”

Ford leans back, but doesn’t detach himself from their interwoven limbs. Giving Stan another dose of shame, as Mabel put it, sounds thrilling right about now.

“You know, they do have a point,” he says, pretending to mull it over. He can’t stop grinning. “I’d love to see the most recent rendition of the Stan Wrong Song, from start to finish. Wouldn’t you, kids?”

“Abso-lutely!” Mabel almost screams. “I’ll have to go get my camera!”

Dipper nods, a hand on his chin. “Oh, yes, yes. Gotta have it.”

“You are the worst,” Stan hisses, his entire face matching the color of Ford’s sweater.

Ford laughs for the millionth time that day, his body feeling lighter than air.

——————————————————–

After that, they make him sing it a total of seven times before finally giving mercy. Stan swears he’s never going to do anything super dangerous again until he does two days later. Then the whole process repeats. LMAO

I can never get enough of Pines family fluff it makes me weak in the knees and oh so happy

[ifanfictionella]

Vampire falls chapter 3

chapter 3- two lost souls</p>

Three towns over life seemed normal, the streets were busseling with people going about their daily lives- the shops were open and the lines seemed to be going to the other side of the street. The sun was beautiful as it beamed down on the streets.

Summer was on it's way out, the sun had been hotter a few weeks ago but like everyone else of the quiet town, one mason wood was catching the last bit of the heat before winter set in.

An nice afternoon out of school was exactly what the 16 year old needed.

"So nice that miss decided to cancel lessons" One of his friends said as she walked hand in hand with her boyfriend who didn't seem to share the sentiment that the sun was so nice

"Tailia we could be in lesson getting valuble knowledge for our college applications" he said attempting to get her to see reason, not exactly working

"Oh please it's the first month back after summer what on earth can they tell us now?"

Mason just walked along with them nodding every now and then whilst reading a book he had picked up from the school, like tailias boyfriend he was very much concerned with actually getting into a good college.

He wanted out of oregon.

He couldn't remember past age 13 when he randomly stumbeled into this town, he assumed that he had always lived here and quickly found himself back where he pressumed his home was, the orphanage.

He put it together that his parents must have not wanted him and just left him. Ever since then he had wanted to prove the system wrong, abandoned kids could make a life for themselves.

"Dipper"

He jumped upon hearing that. 

It seemed to trigger something, he turned to see tailia shaking his shoulder- stupid birthmark gave him that nickname

"We're gonna go get some ice cream, fancy it"

He had to shake his head at that, he never was a fan of ice cream or stuff like that, it was a wonder whenever the two could actually convince the boy to get ice cream or something like that.

"Well guess we'll see you at school tommrow"

And with that he found himself alone again, oh well gave him time to find some tree and read against for an hour or two. He had a favourite spot near the park where children liked to play, the sun was blocked by all of the leaves on the trees so he wouldn't get sun burnt whilst trying to read.

Once at his regular spot he opened the book up finding a bookmark already in- he wasn't the nosy sort of person normally but today he seemed to be playing the role of the cat and peaked at the page

Triangular theroy- with an awful bright yellow highlighter.

Lovely

He looked at the triangle again and could swear he saw an eye.

With that images of some werid floating triangle flashed before his eyes with the same phrase repeating in his ear- trust no one.

Who, who couldn't be trusted and why did he feel like he knew that voice, it was grating and seemed to go right through him

He rembered standing in the mirror looking at himself in some sort of black suit, something like a preist would wear and his eyes were yellow, glowing almost.

He jumped back putting the book on the floor- he was not going crazy, maybe he had just not had the right amount of sleep for the past few nights. The mind starts to play tricks on someone when they have a lack of sleep - he just couldn't quite remember how much sleep it was until that started to happen.

It was like 5 days without sleep that it started right?

Ok, maybe he was going crazy.

But why did it have to start now.

He looked up and saw a teenager girl watching him- he hair was bleached completely white and down, almost reached the end of her back it seemed in that braid. She looked to be wearing a black vest with a matching pair of jeans.

She wasn't wearing shoes though, from here it looked like her eyes were blood red as she glared at him. He couldn't seem to move any part of his body whilst looking at her

Pinetree

"Bill" he jumped looking around him before looking down at his arms where glowing yellow marks were making themselves apparent

At the base of his hands were weird looking pinetree markings

Pinetree... pinetree, he had herd that before from someone

pine...pines

Who was bill?

Wait that was a dumb question- bill was that stupid triangle who he had let take over his body.... Wait why was here and not back in

"Gravity falls, why am i here, i shouldnt be here" He said to himself realising something had happened to his memories... his last name wasn't wood it was pines... dipper pines and he had a sister, a twin sister. A twin sister who he had left in a town that was being taken over by the undead blood suckers

He looked up at the girl again, no question about it that girl was a vampire, by the looks of her a newly turned one too though that didn't explain the bleach white hair.

He stood up, leaving the book and walked towards her- he didn't pay his glowing arms much mind at this moment he could figure that out later. He put his hand out towards her "Are you ok" 

She looked at his arms before looking up at her, she seemed affraid but that quickly shifted into something else. She smirked at him

"Gideon has mabel, and he's going to have fun draining away whatever life she has left....He's coming for you next pinetree" She cackled at the end of her sentace before stepping out into the sun- she seemed to glow for a second before bursting into flames- near the end she realised what was happening and started screaming for her life.... No one turned around

Compulsion- that was something he had read that vampires were able to do but never on this mass scale.

He shook his head looking down at his arms where the glow was gone but the marks were still their, they had turned a pink colour like they had been burnt into his skin

Mabel

She wasn't safe alone.

He looked around the park before using his phone to look up direction, texting some sort of excuse to tailia and leaving .... Back towards what was once his home

It was going to be a few days before he finally got to gravity falls

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The vampire had mabel pinned up against the wall, one arm against her neck whilst being stood on her feet, the other hand keeping her arms above her head. Her fangs were out in some sort of twisted smile whilst looking at her like she was about to bite mabel and take away her life

She wouldn't though

Gideon would have resevered that just for himself

Greedy pig

"I will never understand why you won't just let him turn you," She said pushing further with her arm which contricted mabels airways "You could stay this beautiful for eternity and be so powerful that no one would ever mess you, never look at you wrong again"

Mabel struggled against her grip managing to slip one of her arms free from the things grip

She was not a woman, she gave that up when she allowed herself to be bitten.Amelie reacted by pushing her body right up against mabels which kept her arm completely in place</p>

"This heartless" She chocked out before angrily gritting her teeth together and glaring at amelie as she started to struggle again- she was going to be lucky to get out of this one, without the bruising. Amelie returned the look to mabel, the look was full of an intent to kill.Her nails dug into mabels arm scratching through a few layers of her skin which made blood run down her arm. It dripped down onto mabels face, running down her nose and lips.

Amelie restrained herself somehow, Mabel knew Gideon had use for the girl,a blood bank that he could have completely to himself- to be compelled to do what ever wanted

"Who has time to feel emotions" she answered practically growling at her, she never broke eye contact from her as mabel managed to move her arms enough to loosen her knife strap. She gripped onto the handle

She had to play the waiting game

"Emotions mean your human l" Mabel answered gripping tightly onto her knife ready to swipe it, possibly in the girls face.

No she needed to get the chest

"I said bye bye to being human a long time ago" She smirked moving her body away from mabel

Nows the time

Mabel's actions were swift, she plunged the knife into the vampires chest. She screamed stepping back before falling to the floor where she revived in circles attempting to get the knife out of her chest, her skin started to turn grey and cake over itself.</p>

<p>Mabel stood over her and watched as her eyes turned a blue colour rather than the red colour she had always known them to be, her hair returned to some sort of blonde colour

Mabel looked down at her before pulling out her own knife and picking up something blunt to put into her chest. She moved it around a little bit attempting to make the hole in her chest bigger

She couldn't chance it

She stopped when she was sure it was safe, she put her knife back into the strap, picked up her bag and walked out- hoping to return to the safety of the mystery shack.

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Gideon closed the door to his study before turning to look at the man wearing a black pair of trousers and a shirt with a pastel yellow waist coat.His back was to gideon "You remember the deal, I get those pines twins- drained of blood. You can do the draining of who ever you like" He turned around to look at gideon, one of his eyes was covered by an eyepatch while his other eye was glowing yellow "And i will reward you by making all the huamans bow down to you"<

Gideon nods at him "I already have all of the other pillars in serperation being worked away at- wendy, mabel and dipper are loose ends" The man nods before looking at gideon

He was the only one of the pillars that had been drained centuries ago, he was the one to set off this- he made the deal

"Good"

Bill turned around to look at the ruins of the town that had once been the central place of weirdness "One more thing, i'll be taking mabel once she's a floating soul"

Gideon didn't fight it- his life could easily be taken away for refusing.

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