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thelastspeecher · 2 months

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Uhhhh I couldn't think of a title, but here's the scene I've been working on in my Pollution Powers AU. I'd like to write more for it, and while I do have a few scenes in mind to write, let me know if there's anything in particular you have an interest in seeing!

———————————————————————————————————–

“Stay away from any syringes!” Ma Pines called after Stan and Ford. The boys waved at her as they raced down the beach. The day after a storm was the best to go beach combing. The water and wind tossed up some of the strangest things.

“Heck yes!” Stan crowed, coming to a stop by a patch of black sand. He dropped to his knees to examine it more closely. Ford, however, walked past, his eye grabbed by a small, oddly shaped object a few feet away. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands.

It’s like a dented cardboard box but made of metal. Ford frowned. I’ve never seen anything like this before. What could it be? The metal began to grow warm. It quivered in Ford’s grip, like it was attempting to escape. Ford’s eyes widened. He quickly threw it away as hard as he could. The object landed a foot away, exploding upon contact with the sand.

Ford winced.

I suppose I’m lucky that thing was wimpier than I am. Nothing even hit me! …Right? Ford quickly looked down at his legs and arms. Dangit. At the beach, the glass was as ubiquitous as the sand, and he could see some slivers of classic Glass Shard Beach glass shards poking out of his skin.

“Great,” Ford mumbled. He reached for a larger shard sticking out of his forearm. Before he could grab it, however, the shard quickly sunk below his skin, leaving no trace behind. Ford’s jaw dropped. He poked at the unbroken skin. It didn’t even hurt. “Um, Stan?” Ford squeaked out. Stan, still engrossed in the black sand, didn’t respond. Ford opened his mouth to try to get Stan’s attention further but was interrupted.

“Boys?” Ma Pines shouted. Stan sprang to his feet as Ma Pines ran up to them. “Sorry, sweethearts, but the beach is too dirty today for you to play.” She grabbed each boy and began to lead them back to the car.

“The beach is never too dirty,” Stan argued.

“Today it is,” Ma Pines said firmly. Ford looked back at the patch of sand disturbed by the explosive.

“I think,” Ford said slowly, “you are correct.”

-----

Ford’s eyes snapped open. The darkness of the room he shared with Stan was a stark contrast to the dream of that day on the beach. There was a faint dripping sound from somewhere. Ford dragged his hands down his face.

Not this again. He rolled onto his belly to peer over the side of the bed. In the dark, he could barely make out liquid dripping from the bottom bunk onto the floor. Fantastic. Ford grabbed a cheap magnet off the side of the metal bunk bed and threw it in the general vicinity of the bottom bunk.

“Wake up, Stan. You’re having another fucking wet dream.” The strange, bubbling snoring from the bottom bunk stopped.

“…Whoops,” Stan’s voice said. His words slurred a bit, as they tended to when he was in his inhuman form. Ford squinted. Without his glasses, Stan was blurry, but his twin appeared to be in human form again. At the very least, the dripping had stopped.

The slurring was likely from tiredness.

“You’ve been having those a lot lately,” Ford pointed out. Stan was the one to dub reverting to his oil form while asleep as having a wet dream. Ford, tickled, went along with it. “Do you have any theories as to this sudden uptick?”

“Uh, Teach thinks it’s ‘cause I’ve been spending so much time in oil form, practicing,” Stan said sleepily. “My body’s getting used to it as a normal thing or whatever.”

“Oh,” Ford said. He laid back in bed. “Well, you’ll have to kick that habit before we go back home. Mom won’t put up with you making that mess every night.” Stan was silent. “Did you fall back asleep?”

“No.” The bottom bunk creaked. “I, uh, I don’t know if I wanna go back home.” Ford frowned.

“What?”

“I don’t think I wanna go back home.”

“The day I arrived, you were going on and on about how much you miss the boardwalk and beach and…” Ford shook his head. “Why don’t you want to return home?”

“You saw how everyone reacted when my stupid power showed up,” Stan mumbled. Ford winced. Stan’s body had turned to oil in the middle of the school hallway while he was flirting with Carla McCorkle. Not only did every student nearby begin panicking, but Carla also dumped Stan before he could get out a single word. “And even when I was able to keep it under wraps enough to work in the shop and go back to school, everyone acted like I had the damn plague! No matter what, everyone knows what I am. And they’re never gonna treat me right ever again.”

“Rather hypocritical of you,” Ford muttered under his breath. The bottom bunk creaked again.

“What did you say?” Stan snapped.

“You’re being rather hypocritical!” Ford snapped back. “You speak of fearing mistreatment back home, but have no qualms with mistreating people here! People who are just like us!”

“Okay, wanna stop talking like you’re a professor and just tell me what you’re getting at?”

“The McGuckets!”

“What? I’ve never done anything to Fiddlesticks.”

“That’s a lie,” Ford scoffed. “Before his sister arrived to be the new punching bag, you constantly talked about how he wasn’t ‘enough of a freak’ to be here.”

“His power is mostly being smelly and dirty. That’s just what happens when you’re on a farm,” Stan said dismissively. “I didn’t say any of it to his face, anyways.”

“That doesn’t mean he didn’t notice,” Ford said. Stan huffed. “But I was primarily referring to his younger sister.”

“Angie probably doesn’t even have a power,” Stan muttered.

“Why would she be here if she didn’t?” Ford pointed out. “The Gravity Falls School for Contaminated Youth isn’t exactly a prestigious prep school, despite the administration’s best attempts.” Stan didn’t say anything. “I know you don’t really think Angie is a normie.”

At least, I hope you don’t.

“Fine. Maybe I don’t. But why hasn’t she used her power in front of everyone?”

“Not all powers are one’s default state! I’ve barely used my power in front of people! And I can’t imagine that the treatment from you and the company you keep is helping matters. She’s probably too overwhelmed to even attempt her power in front of everyone.”

“Oh, so this is all about me spending time with Jimmy, huh? You’re just being jealous?”

“No, this is about how you insult and degrade some poor girl after spending our entire lives defending me from the same behavior! Though, to be quite frank, I do think Jimmy’s influence on you has been a major factor in your bullying!” A familiar feeling spread across Ford’s skin, as though cold slime was slowly being poured onto him. Ford looked down at his hands. His skin had turned to glass, revealing the muscles, bones, and organs beneath.

Shit. Not again! Ford quickly scanned the room for something that he and Stan wouldn’t miss. His gaze landed on a discarded cardboard box they hadn’t thrown out yet, which their latest care package from Shermie had arrived in. Good enough.

“I don’t-” Stan started furiously. Before he could get out any other words, the cardboard box exploded, leaving a black charred stain on the carpet. “Did- did you just-”

“You know it happens when I get pissed off,” Ford muttered. The cold, slimy feeling faded as his skin returned to normal. Lights turned on in the hallway, followed by the sound of footsteps. Ford quickly rolled over, facing the wall. Stan began to emit loud, clearly fake snores. The door opened, spilling light into the room. After a few moments, the door closed again. Ford breathed a sigh of relief. The guards typically did the bare minimum, as was the case this time.

The light in the hallway turned off. Ford waited for Stan to stop snoring so they could resume their conversation. However, the cartoonish snoring continued. Ford scowled.

Really? Pretending to be asleep to avoid talking? He closed his eyes. Well, if he wants to be done, then we can be done.

#Stan arrives at the school before Ford and falls in with a bad crowd that acts as a negative influence #hence his negative behavior towards the McGucket siblings #Stanford Pines #Stanley Pines #Gravity Falls #Gravity Falls AU #Pollution Powers AU #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks

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thelastspeecher · 4 months

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Stanuary '24 - Week One: Lost & Home

I'm too tired from recovering from COVID to provide any sort of introduction, but to be honest, I don't think this needs one. Except, uh, aliens.

Alien stuff is involved here.

Enjoy.

———————————————————————————————————–

Alien words breached the haze of pain surrounding Stan. A few, he could recognize.

“…poison…human…poach…” Shame uncurled in the fiery pit that was Stan’s stomach. He hated being identified as a pathetic poaching victim.

“I’m sure you have a good reason for paging me when I’m not on call,” a voice snapped in English. His eyelids felt like they were made of lead, but Stan forced himself to open them. It didn’t help. Both the figure speaking an alien language and the one speaking English were too blurry to make out. His eyes slid shut again.

“…human…death…”

“What caused him to reach this state?”

“…poison…”

“Do we know what kind of poison?” A stethoscope, ice-cold against Stan’s burning skin, rested on his chest, accompanied by a similarly cold hand. A similarly cold six-fingered hand. Stan couldn’t understand the response to the English speaker’s question, but whatever it was clearly wasn’t good. “Shit.” The blessedly cold hand and stethoscope left. “We need to act fast if we want to save his liver and kidneys.” The cold hand was back, this time resting on Stan’s shoulder. Stan cracked open his eyes weakly.

The English speaker’s face was mere inches from his. And familiar.

“Stanley,” the familiar face said, “I need you to fight.”

Blackness filled Stan’s vision. The voice faded away.

-----

“For now, we will keep the saline ratio the same. I may switch him to a high-nutrient high-caloric solution once he tells me more information about his diet.”

“…weak…food…”

“I have no doubts I’ll need to contact the dietician for a consult, given his state. Please send her a message for me.” Footsteps sounded. There was the soft swish of one of the spaceship doors that Stan had become used to. “I know you’re awake, Stanley.” Stan opened his eyes. He was laying on a massive hospital bed in a softly lit, mostly white hospital room. Multiple monitors were hooked up to him, keeping track of his vitals. There was even what looked like an IV bag filled with a light pink fluid. Stan turned on his side to see the English speaker from before. He had been right. Somehow, it was his twin.

Ford stood at a tall desk by the closed door of the hospital room, wearing a lavender doctor’s coat. He had his back to Stan, typing something on a keyboard paired to a hologram screen. His curly brown hair stretched past his shoulders, tied in a business-like ponytail.

“How’d you know I woke up?” Stan croaked. He immediately regretted speaking. Not only was his throat raw, but his voice was broken and faint.

“You stopped snoring,” Ford replied. He cleared his throat. “I realize that you likely have many questions for me.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Stan spat.

“They will have to wait. You’re going to be drifting in and out of consciousness while your body processes the poison you ingested and the antidote we gave you. I need to utilize your brief waking moments to find out how you wound up in this state.”

“Why are your questions more important than mine?” Stan snapped. The words slurred together.

“In case you haven’t realized,” Ford said in a barely controlled tone, “I’m your doctor right now. I need to be able to treat you.”

“I bet Mom’s real proud you’re an alien doctor.” Stan’s slurring was getting worse. Ford took a deep breath.

“How long have you been on this planet?” he asked.

“Uh. Dunno. Coupla weeks, maybe?”

“Then your poacher didn’t dump you after accidentally giving you something poisonous.” Stan felt his chest tighten. “I thought it was unlikely. Humans are too valuable to risk poisoning, particularly given that most poachers know our bodies are more sensitive than average.”

“You know I was- I was-”

“Yes,” Ford said softly. “My staff had to remove your poaching cuff.” Stan looked at his left wrist. Just like the rest of him, it was thin and pale, but where the cuff had been, there was a distinct ring of hairless, scarred skin.

Holy shit. I’m- I’m free. I’m actually free.

“How did you get poisoned?” Ford asked.

“I swiped some blue hot dog looking thing from a street cart,” Stan muttered. Ford glanced over at him, eyes wide behind glasses that looked identical to the ones he’d had in high school. “I got sick of living off nutrient pills, sue me!” Stan looked away. “Just my luck that the first real food I try in months poisons me.”

“…Months?” At Ford’s concerned tone, Stan looked at him again. Ford quickly went back to typing before Stan could see his expression.

“I’m guessing. It’s difficult to tell how much time goes by when you’re in the smuggler’s bay of a poaching ship.”

“What date was your last day on Earth?” Ford asked.

“Uh. May something.”

“You’ve been off-planet for roughly eight months, then,” Ford said in a tight voice. “During that time, you’ve only consumed human-rated nutrient pills?”

“Yeah,” Stan mumbled. Ford paused his typing. “What?”

“Those aren’t meant to be one’s sole diet for more than a few weeks.” Ford resumed typing, more quickly than before. “We’ll need to ease you back into regular food. Am I correct that you were unable to keep down most of the street food you consumed?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I chucked just about all of it back up pretty quick.”

“That would explain why you aren’t dead. I know of the dish that you ate. It’s high in arsenic and ricin. The fact you were no longer used to eating food saved your life.” Ford shook his head. “I’ll definitely be changing the IV solution for you…”

“No need.” Stan sat up and swung his legs over the side of the exceedingly large hospital bed. The movement made his head swim, but he ignored it. “I’m outta here. You don’t have to take care of me. I can take care of myself.” Ford sighed. He pressed a button on his keyboard. The hologram screen went away.

“No. You can’t. You’ll need to be hospitalized for at least a week.”

“Bullshit,” Stan scoffed. Ford walked over, revealing that under his doctor’s coat, he was wearing one of the plain futuristic jumpsuits that were the fashion on the planet. Seemingly without any effort at all, he pushed Stan back onto the hospital bed. “How did you-”

“You just survived a severe poisoning after living on nutrient pills for eight months,” Ford scolded. Stan scowled at him. “You’re weaker than you’ve ever been in your entire life right now.” Stan felt his eyelids growing heavy. “Get your rest. When you next wake up, I’ll have more questions for you to answer.” Stan’s eyes slid shut.

“Great,” he managed, just before darkness took over again.

-----

A small hand slid into Stan’s. Stan cracked open an eye. His right arm was dangling over the edge of the hospital bed, which a very short alien had apparently decided was an invitation to hold his hand. The alien had periwinkle blue skin, long carnation pink hair tied in a braid, and eyes that were way too human.

I’ve been on this planet for a while now. Stan stared at the wide, light blue eyes inches from his. The people that live here don’t have eyes like that. The small alien let out a soft whimper.

“Unca For?” the alien said hesitantly. A smile broke across Stan’s face.

It’s just some cute kid. Unable to help himself, Stan ruffled the alien child’s hair.

“Nah. I’m not your Unca For. He’s over there.” Stan nodded at Ford, who was standing by the door, talking to two adult aliens, one male and one female. Judging by the aliens’ appearances, the child holding Stan’s hand was theirs.

“Lee, no, you can’t bother my patients,” Ford said, finally noticing what was going on. The child, Lee, looked over at him.

“Unca For?”

“Yes, Lee, that is me.” Ford crouched down. Lee let go of Stan’s hand and ran into Ford’s arms. Ford picked the child up and stood. “I apologize that he woke you up, Stanley. He hasn’t spent time around many humans, so he must have mistaken you for me.”

“To be fair, Max thought you were the one in the bed at first,” remarked the female alien. She had the same skin tone and long narrow nose as Lee, but her hair was a bright magenta.

“They look the same,” muttered the male alien, apparently named Max. He had pink skin to match his light pink hair, the latter of which Lee appeared to have inherited from him. Stan squinted.

“Why do two of you three have regular human names?”

“I provided them with human nicknames because human vocal cords cannot pronounce their proper names,” Ford replied.

“All three of them have human names?”

“Nicknames,” Ford corrected. “But yes.” He nodded at the female alien. “This is my sister-in-law, Angie, and her husband, Max. Lee is their son.”

“You’ve got in-laws on this planet?” Stan asked. Ford was silent. “Fine. Clam up. Like I give a shit.” Ford sighed. He turned to Max and Angie.

“Please let Fiddleford know I’ll be along shortly. I need to talk to Stan before he falls unconscious again.”

“Of course,” Angie said politely. Max took Lee from Ford. The aliens left the room.

“You’ve got more questions for me?” Stan grumbled.

“No, not really. But I need to let you know your treatment plan.”

“So you’re not gonna tell me how you wound up being a fucking alien doctor?”

“Not right now, no. Fulfilling my responsibilities as a physician is more important,” Ford said firmly. Stan rolled his eyes. Ford pulled up the hologram screen from before. Stan squinted at the writing on it. While he’d been able to pick up some words here and there in various alien languages over the last eight months, he had no idea how to read any of them.

Ford better not be planning on giving me a piece of paper with instructions in Alienese or whatever.

“I’ll be providing you with a printed copy in English,” Ford said, as though reading Stan’s mind. “For now, I’ll just read it off to you.” Ford cleared his throat. “You’re going to undergo a course of antidotes to properly flush the poisons from your system. Simultaneously, you’ll be given an intravenous source of nutrients and calories, as you’ve clearly lost a significant amount of both weight and muscle.” Stan felt himself flush in embarrassment. He hated what the nutrient pill diet had done to his strong arms and cushioned belly. “Tomorrow, we will begin the process of easing you back into eating actual food. We’ll do it slowly and gradually so that you can eat normally by the time you are discharged.”

“Great,” Stan muttered. “And the second I leave, I’m just gonna eat a new poisonous thing and wind up right back here.”

“No, you won’t.” Ford closed his eyes. “Once you’re discharged, you’ll be staying with me.”

“Like hell I will!” Stan snapped. He sat up straight. The motion made his stomach churn. Ford opened his eyes.

“I’m not happy about it either,” Ford said, sounding frustrated. “But you are my patient. As your doctor, I need to make sure you become healthy again. You will not be properly healthy until quite some time after you are discharged from your hospital stay.”

“I’m not gonna-”

“Look,” Ford interrupted. He took a steadying breath. “Neither of us want this. However, I must follow my duties as a physician. And you are too physically weak to resist.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“A temporary truce,” Ford said. “Once you are back to normal, we can part ways. But until then, you unfortunately remain with me, under my care.”

“The second your big doctor brain thinks I’m good to go, I’m leaving,” Stan snarled. Ford held up his hands.

“I’m perfectly fine with that.”

“Good!” Stan laid back in bed, rubbing his eyes. A sudden wave of exhaustion had just washed over him. The circular door slid down with a gentle swishing sound. Stan and Ford looked over. A tall pink alien with blood orange hair and the same nose as Angie and Lee stuck his head into the room.

“Oh, good!” the alien said cheerfully. “He’s still awake!”

“Not for long,” Stan mumbled. He frowned at the alien. “Who are you?”

“Just a feller what wanted to meet his brother-in-law,” the alien drawled. Stan’s eyes widened. He stared at Ford. Ford turned red.

“Yes, Stanley, this- this is-” Ford stammered. He swallowed. “This is my husband, Fiddleford.”

“Huh.” The jolt of adrenaline had faded, and Stan was weary again. He yawned. “I shoulda known…you would marry an alien or Bigfoot or…or whatever…” Stan’s eyes drifted shut. The last thing he heard before he fell asleep was from his newfound brother-in-law.

“I s’ppose I’ll have to bring the children to meet him later then.”

-----

“I can walk,” Stan snapped at the alien nurse trying to help him into a hover chair. After over a week in the hospital, he was finally free to go. And not a moment too soon for his cabin fever. Ford, who was watching nearby, crossed his arms with a scowl.

“Don’t take that tone with my staff. You need to be discharged in a hover chair. You won’t be able to make it to the car on your own.”

“The physical therapist gave me a cane-”

“For short distances,” Ford interjected. “This hospital is the largest on the planet.”

“…Fine,” Stan muttered. He reluctantly sat in the hover chair.

“Don’t worry about escorting him out,” Ford said to the nurse. He glared at Stan. “He’s being rather difficult right now. I think it’s best if I handle it from here.” Stan flipped the bird at him. “How delightfully immature of you.” Ford took hold of the handles on the hover chair. “You need to be on your best behavior while at my home. Fiddleford is still recovering from the birth of Tate and Tesla.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m not gonna be difficult when there are newborns around,” Stan muttered. “I know better than that.”

“Tate and Tesla are not our only children.”

“They aren’t?”

“No. We also have an adopted son, Proteus.” Ford pushed the hover chair up to the door of the hospital room, but paused. “I should probably warn you about his species.”

“I’m not a racist.”

“He belongs to the same species as the person who poached you,” Ford said quietly. Stan’s heart began to race. “The authorities were able to identify your poacher based upon the poaching cuff. Apparently, he is a rather notorious poacher who uses his shapeshifting abilities to lure prey.”

“Yeah. I remember,” Stan said darkly.

“Given his reputation, I am not only relieved you escaped, but impressed.”

“It wasn’t that tough. I just slipped off when he wasn’t looking and stowed away on the first ship I found.”

“Not many have gotten away from him and lived to tell the tale.” The hospital room door opened. Ford began to push Stan through the halls of the hospital. They made the trip to the patient pickup/dropoff area in silence, Stan steadfastly avoiding making eye contact with any reflective surfaces. It was a moot point, however. Once they were outside, Stan couldn’t refuse to look at himself anymore. The hospital, like all buildings on the planet, was constructed of a mirror-like material on the outside. Stan cringed at the sight of his reflection.

Not a lot of people have lived after getting away from the guy that poached me. Now that Stan had been faced with his reflection, he couldn’t help but stare. His cheeks were gaunt, his body scrawny and bony, his skin pale from lack of sunlight. His hair, which had grown long enough to stretch halfway down his back, hung limp and lifeless. Stan clenched the cane the physical therapist had given him. But is this living?

“Ah,” Ford said, breaking Stan free from spiraling. Stan looked up. A hover car had come to a stop in front of them. “This is our ride, Stanley.” The back door of the hover car opened. Ford reached for Stan to help him up, but Stan slapped his hand away.

“I can handle it,” he grumbled. Ford stood back. Stan got to his feet and hobbled over to the hover car. When he got inside, there was a soft chime. A seatbelt quickly buckled itself around him. The door closed with another soft chime. The driver of the car, Fiddleford, looked over his shoulder.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Fiddleford said cheerfully. “It’s still on the child settings fer Proteus.” Stan wasn’t sure why Ford’s husband spoke English with a southern accent, when every other alien he’d met spoke English like Ford.

Not that I’m complaining. It’s nice to hear someone that doesn’t sound just like my damn twin.

“Where is Proteus?” Ford asked, getting into the passenger seat.

“I dropped the kids off with Angie and Max. I thought it best if Stanley came home to some quiet. At least fer him to settle in.”

“Home,” Stan scoffed quietly. Fiddleford looked back at him. “I haven’t had a home in ages.”

“We’re fam’ly, so our home is yours,” Fiddleford said firmly. He looked at Ford. “Right, darlin’?” A series of complicated emotions crossed Ford’s face too quickly for Stan to interpret. Ford eventually settled on something decidedly neutral.

“…Yes. Our home is your home, Stanley.” Ford and Fiddleford turned to face the front. The hover car took off. Stan looked out the window at the alien buildings passing by.

I don’t know what this is, but it isn’t home. He glanced at Ford, who seemed more comfortable than ever in his skin. At least, it isn’t mine.

#Stanuary #Gravity Falls #Stanley Pines #Stanford Pines #Purposeful Abduction AU #Accidental Abduction AU #ficlet #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks

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thelastspeecher · 4 months

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the roommate and I were discussing why Ford doesn't have long hair at any point given he lived in the woods for years and was hyperfocusing so much he stopped caring about grooming and then was an interdimensional wanderer for decades

I think there is a v obvious explanation

convenience

I myself am a scientist and I keep my hair short for convenience sake. not worrying about tying my hair back was so convenient when I did lab work all the time.

and yes, I subscribe to the "Ford doesn't give a shit about lab safety" train BUT how annoying is it to have your hair fall in your face when you're doing something? even if Ford won't keep his hair short to cut out a step in being safe in the lab, he would def keep it short just to keep it out of his face and out of his way.

again, from experience, field work is so frustrating with hair even slightly long. I mean the WIND for one thing. science is just so much easier when you have short hair. like, across the board.

Ford doesn't get haircuts tho

he just grabs a pair of scissors and hacks it off

#we were discussing this bc a rare long-haired Ford appears in a write I will be posting later today #Stanford Pines #Gravity Falls #speecher speaks

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thelastspeecher · 8 days

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all right fine I'll watch Leverage

#it's on Amazon Prime and I have that so might as well #I've heard good things #speecher speaks

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thelastspeecher · 1 year

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One of the reasons I love The Mountain Goats so much is because a song will have a verse about getting a sandwich with extra mayo from Burger King and then the next verse will be the rawest fucking lines you've ever heard about wasting yourself on a relationship and being unsure if you'll ever get back what you lost

#this isn't just a hypothetical example btw #this is literally a song and an absolute banger of one #(I will provide the verses when I am home and not on mobile)#The Mountain Goats #speecher speaks

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thelastspeecher · 3 months

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Stanuary '24 - Week 4: Strangers & Brothers

In under the wire, I've got my final Stanuary write posted just before bed on January 31st! Phew!

This particular one takes place in my Foster Ford AU, in which Ford is turned into a young child by an anomaly in Gravity Falls, picked up by Child Services, put into foster care, and ultimately crosses paths with Stan at school, where Stan is his new gym teacher. The first scene takes place before Ford has told Stan who he really is, when Stan is just Ford's gym teacher and a bit suspicious of this familiar-looking kid named Stanford who goes by Stan. And the second scene takes place a while later, after Stan got the approval to foster Ford. Specifically, the morning after Ford told Stan the truth about who he is.

Now I've finished this mountain of exposition, enjoy~

———————————————————————————————————–

Stan watched the kids running laps on the blacktop. He frowned thoughtfully at the sight of Stanford Payne, once again clearly pushing himself, yet still in last place.

Even Lucas is beating him, and that kid’s got asthma. Stanford stumbled slightly. All right, time to call it quits. Stan blew his whistle. The kids stopped running.

“Good work, everyone!” Stan said cheerfully. “The rest of class is free time. Do whatever you want, as long as it’s exercise and legal.” The kids giggled before dutifully dispersing. Some began playing a game of freeze tag, others played hopscotch, and Stanford slinked off to the side, oozing a pathetic aura. Stan sighed. He walked over to Stanford, who was sitting on the grass to catch his breath.

“Oh, uh, Mr. Pines, is- did I do something wrong?” Stanford stammered, gasping for air in between words. He twisted the hem of his shirt nervously.

“Yeah.” Stanford’s eyes, hidden by his thick glasses, widened with horror. “You’re not in trouble, kid, don’t worry! But after you run laps, you’ve gotta cool down. You can’t just sit right away.”

“Oh. Why not?”

“It’s not good for you.”

“Why?” Stanford pressed.

“You’re advanced for your age, but I think the details of anatomy and physiology are a bit too much for you,” Stan said. Stanford wrinkled his forehead, like he was about to argue, but decided against it. “Come on, let’s do a cool down.”

“What does a cool down entail?”

“Just walking around. Walk with me.”

“O-okay,” Stanford mumbled. He got up. They began to walk around the perimeter of the blacktop, Stan making sure to keep an eye out on the other kids. “Um. Was there- was there something else you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Actually, yeah. There is.” Stan took a moment to choose his words carefully. “You seem to push yourself a lot.”

“I’m just trying to keep up with everyone else,” Stanford mumbled.

“I get it. You don’t wanna feel like the runt of the litter,” Stan said. Stanford nodded. “But I don’t want you to worry about what everyone else is doing, okay? Just focus on yourself.”

“Why?” Stanford asked quietly. Stan looked down at the kid, surprised. He’d expected Stanford to be relieved Stan was giving him permission to back off. Most unathletic kids were. But Stanford seemed suspicious of the instruction.

“Pushing yourself is bad, Stan.” Stanford looked up at him, frowning. “It took me a while to learn this, so I’m not gonna blame you for not knowing. But if you push yourself too hard, all you’ll do is hurt yourself in the end.”

“How?” Stanford asked. Stan pinched the bridge of his nose.

This kid…

“Okay, let’s think about it this way,” he said. “You like math, right?” Stanford nodded. “Do you know how percentages work?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Let’s say that when you push yourself, that’s using 100%.”

“100% of what?” Stanford asked. Stan could feel himself getting a migraine already. He took a deep breath.

He’s not being difficult on purpose. He might be crazy smart, but he’s just a little kid.

“Let’s call it gym energy.”

“Okay.”

“When you push yourself, you use 100% of your gym energy. If you do gym normally, not pushing too hard but not slacking off, that’s 50%. And when you slack off, it’s 20%. Still following?” Stanford nodded. “So if you push yourself in gym class, and you use 100% of your gym energy, how much gym energy is left?”

“None of it.”

“That’s right. Your gym energy refills over time. Let’s say it’s 1% each hour. If you push yourself and use up all your gym energy, how much do you have the next day to use in gym class?”

“Somewhere between 23% and 24%.”

“What can you do with that much gym energy?”

“Slack off.” Stanford furrowed his brow. “But I haven’t been doing that! I’ve been working hard every day!” Stan nodded. The kid seemed to be catching on.

“Because you aren’t doing it healthy. If you wanna exercise healthy, then the most you can do after pushing yourself is slacking off. If you wanna exercise unhealthy, then you can push yourself over and over. But it’s not good for you.”

“It puts me in gym energy debt,” Stanford said slowly.

“Exactly! When you use gym energy you don’t have, you wind up in debt. And eventually, someone’s gonna come to collect on it. You’re young and healthy, so you’ve got more leeway than I’ve got, with my old man creaky bones.” Stan winked. Stanford managed a small smile. “But it’ll happen. Your body will give up on you until your gym energy is back to healthy levels. You won’t be able to do gym class. You won’t be able to do much of your favorite things. All you can do is wait.”

“…I see.”

“I’m not telling you this to scare you, Stan.” Stan crouched down so he was eye-to-eye with Stanford. “I’m telling you this so that you’ll be healthy. My dad never told me any of this, so I pushed myself. I didn’t learn how to exercise right until I moved out and joined a different gym. I don’t want you to have to deal with that.” Stanford nodded jerkily. “I’ll send a note home with you so your foster parents know I talked to you about this.”

“Why?”

“So they can help you stick to not pushing yourself!”

“I- I suppose I am merely a five-year-old,” Stanford mumbled.

“Right now, yeah. And that’s why you’ve gotta get help from grownups.” Stan straightened. “Tomorrow, I want you to slack off in gym, okay?”

“But-”

“You can do normal stuff the day after tomorrow,” Stan interrupted. “But tomorrow, you’ve got too much gym energy debt. You’ve gotta take it easy for at least one day. Okay?”

“…Okay.”

“Good.” The bell rang from inside the school. The kindergarten teachers walked outside and began to usher their students in. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Stan.”

“See you then, Mr. Pines,” Stanford said quietly. Stan ruffled his hair. Stanford grinned weakly at him, then hurried over to his teacher. Stan watched the kindergarteners go in.

That kid… Sweet Moses. Hopefully I can get through to him. He shouldn’t make the same mistakes I did. He’s too smart for it.

-----

Stan let Ford sleep in. It was the least he could do after yesterday.

I shouldn’t have gone so hard on him. I’m the adult. I can’t lose it like that. Stan turned on the coffeemaker and stood in front of it blankly. He thought he’d done a good job of holding back, but Ford’s reaction suggested otherwise. Can you blame me? He was arguing with himself now. I’ve been fostering him for months. I thought he was my nephew! But he’s not. He’s my twin brother who got himself involved with some crazy magic shit in Oregon.

“It doesn’t matter,” Stan muttered to the coffeemaker. “It doesn’t matter. I’m the adult. He’s just a little kid. Even if he wasn’t one a few years ago.” He rubbed his forehead wearily.

I’m gonna get a world class migraine over this shit. I can just tell. Soft footsteps sounded behind him. Stan looked over his shoulder. Ford stood in the entryway of the kitchen, fully dressed.

“You’re ready for the day already?” Stan asked. Ford shrugged. “I thought you were gonna sleep in. I haven’t even started breakfast yet.”

“I can fend for myself,” Ford said.

“Nah, no point,” Stan said. “If I’m up, I might as well get you sorted out.” Ford scowled.

“You don’t trust me to make myself a simple bowl of cereal or peel an orange, do you?” he asked.

I’m too uncaffeinated to deal with this.

“Whattaya want me to say, Ford?” Stan asked. “We both know what happened the last time you tried to make your own breakfast.” Ford’s cheeks turned pink. Stan and Angie had accidentally overslept, only to be woken up by a loud crash in the kitchen. When they rushed in, they found Ford on the floor. He’d fallen off the chair he used to reach the cabinet cereal was stored in.

“I learned from that particular mistake,” Ford said tightly. “I can manage it now.”

“Like I said, I’m up anyways. And I am your legal guardian,” Stan pointed out. Ford’s cheeks darkened to red. Stan looked at the coffeemaker. It was moving just as slow as he was; barely a few drops were in the pot. He sighed and turned it off. “Actually, let’s get some donuts.”

“Aunt Angie will be upset you aren’t providing a nutritious breakfast,” Ford mumbled.

“Yeah, well, Angie doesn’t need to know,” Stan retorted. He raised an eyebrow at Ford. “What’s with still calling her your aunt?”

“Force of habit.”

“I guess you’ll have to keep calling her that until we tell her the truth anyways,” Stan said. He headed for the front door.

“Do we have to tell her?” Ford asked. The question came out as a whine. Stan began to put on his shoes.

“Yep,” he said without looking up. “I’m not gonna lie to my wife, Ford.”

“But-”

“She hates being lied to. I’m not screwing up the best relationship I’ve ever had.”

“…Fine.” Ford clumsily put on his Velcro sneakers. “If we have to tell her, we’ll tell her.” He glared at Stan. “But I’m not happy about it.”

“That’s life, sport.” Acting on muscle memory, Stan checked that Ford’s shoes were fastened properly, then helped him put on his jacket. He pushed open the front door. “C’mon.” Stan held out a hand. Ford looked at it. “You’re five. You’re gonna hold my hand.” Ford reluctantly slid his hand into Stan’s.

They walked down the street in awkward silence. San Diego in January wasn’t even close to a Glass Shard Beach winter, but there were occasionally days that merited a jacket or even a coat. That particular morning was cold enough that Stan and Ford’s breath escaped in visible puffs. Ford’s cheeks were pink, not from embarrassment, but from the chill in the air, by the time they reached the bakery. Stan pushed open the door. Ford rushed in to look at the offerings behind the counter. Stan followed at a more sedate pace.

“Hey there Cindy,” Stan said to the young woman manning the register. She smiled at him.

“Good morning, Mr. Pines.”

“I’ll get my regular donut. Plus a large coffee.”

“Cream or sugar?”

“Uh, cream, no sugar.” Stan looked over at Ford. The steam that covered Ford’s glasses when they entered was beginning to fade, revealing his excited look. “You know what you want, Ford?”

“Um…” Ford stood on his tiptoes, inspecting the items on the top shelf.

Was Ford that short the first time he was five? He can’t have been... He was taller than me until high school, and I know I wasn’t that short in kindergarten. Stan frowned slightly. Why would he be shorter than before?

“I’ll have a bear claw,” Ford said. He put his hands behind his back and rocked back and forth on his toes. “…And a small coffee with cream and sugar.” The addition came out as a nervous squeak. Stan rolled his eyes. He looked at Cindy.

“Small hot chocolate for him.”

“Can I at least get whipped cream and marshmallows?” Ford whined.

“No. You’re having plenty of sugar this morning as it is,” Stan said firmly. Ford pouted. Cindy chuckled as she rang up the purchases and grabbed the pastries.

“I’ll bring you your drinks when they’re ready.”

“Thanks, Cindy.”

“No problem, Mr. Pines.”

“C’mon, Ford,” Stan said. He and Ford walked over to a small table in the corner of the bakery. Stan lifted Ford onto a chair, ignoring his protests, and then sat in a chair himself.

“You didn’t need to lift me,” Ford grumbled.

“It was faster than waiting five minutes while you try to get on the chair and then give up and ask me to pick you up anyways,” Stan said. Ford scowled at him. “Were you this short before?”

“If you’re referring to the first time I was five, no, I do not believe so,” Ford mumbled.

“Huh. I wonder why you’re shorter this time.”

“Perhaps whatever did this to me wanted me to be particularly vulnerable,” Ford said. Stan shrugged.

“Dunno. But it is particularly cute,” he teased. Ford rolled his eyes. He began to pick at his pastry. “So…”

“So, I think we should begin planning how to reverse my condition,” Ford said, perking up. “This whole mess started in Gravity Falls, so we should go there. Perhaps retrace my steps.”

“Uh. Do you remember that far back?”

“I’m not an infant, Stanley,” Ford scoffed. “I could never forget that day.”

“All right. If you say so.”

“The Corduroys agreed to keep an eye upon my cottage whilst I am away, so we can stay there while we investigate. If we leave tomorrow morning, we should get to Gravity Falls by the afternoon. We can drop off our things at the cottage, then go to the creek where I-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Stan said, holding up his hands. “You gotta slow down there, kiddo.” He looked at the already mostly eaten bear claw. “Both in making plans and chewing your food. Eat slower. It’s better for digestion.”

“You have a lot of opinions about nutrition and healthy living,” Ford mumbled. He reluctantly slowed down, taking a single bit at a time.

“They make you take classes on that stuff for a Phys Ed degree. Look, we can’t leave tomorrow.”

“Why not?” Ford whined petulantly. Stan gave Ford an assessing look.

Does he realize what that sounded like? Ford pouted at him. No. He doesn’t. Like you keep reminding yourself, he might act all big-brained and grownup, but he’s still a kid. And every day he stays one, he acts more like it.

“First, we need to convince Angie about this whole…” Stan waved his hands around vaguely. “…thing. She needs to be in the loop. Anyways, she’s a biologist! She might be able to help.”

“That’s true,” Ford said quietly.

“After we convince her, we’ve gotta work around everyone’s schedules. I’ve got work, you’ve got school, and Angie’s got work and school. We’ll need to plan based around when people are free.”

“School isn’t in session,” Ford pointed out. He took another bite of bear claw.

“Not right now. It starts next week,” Stan said. Ford deflated.

“You- you don’t think we can return me to my normal self by then?” he whispered. Stan sighed.

“I don’t know how long it’s gonna take to get you back to normal, Sixer. But I can tell you right now, it’s gonna take way longer than a week. Honestly, we might not be able to make any progress until the summer, when we don’t have to work around the school schedule.” Somehow, Ford deflated even further.

“For the foreseeable future, then, I’m…”

“Gonna have to keep being my nephew Stanford Payne, yep,” Stan said with a nod. Ford groaned. He slammed his head on the table, sending crumbs from his finished bear claw flying.

“Great,” Ford mumbled into the table. “You insist on being responsible at the worst time.”

“I’ve been responsible. For years, actually. Shermie drilled it into me.”

“What has even changed as a result of me telling you who I actually am?” Ford said, ignoring Stan. Stan lifted Ford’s chin to look into his eyes.

“The most important thing: I know the truth. Everything else is gonna happen later. But it’s gonna happen. Because now that I know, we can work together. Like we used to. Remember?” Ford smiled. The smile abruptly faded.

“I’m- I’m honestly a bit surprised you’re willing to help me. After everything. The science fair, the estrangement, the lying…”

“We’re still brothers,” Stan said firmly. “After all of that and whatever else we do.” Cindy came over to their table. She set down their drinks, ruffled Ford’s hair, and returned to her spot behind the counter. Stan grinned at him. “Even if I’m the big brother now.”

#Stanuary #Gravity Falls #Stanley Pines #Stanford Pines #Foster Ford AU #ficlet #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks #and.......Stanuary '24 is done!

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