#they also asked for fiddleford to be there

[tazmiilly]

someone sent me an ask for an awkward sibling hug between these two but it accidentally got deleted :( so sorry anon

i think they'd have to work their way up to dipper and mabel sibling hugs

#they also asked for fiddleford to be there #hes the one giving a thumbs up #hes telepathically communicating and reassuring ford with the thumbs up #scribbles #requests #gravity falls #ford pines #stan pines

[kingofthewilderwest]

Bill Monroe challenges Mcgucket to a dueling banjo session. Who wins?

XD Here goes an unnecessarily detailed answer, as one might expect from me.

Father of Bluegrass Bill Monroe (1911-1996) was a virtuosic mandolinist (also no slouch on guitar) who incorporated fiddling influences into his playing. Rather than an old-style shimmering tremelo, Bill Monroe attacked the strings in an impressive combination of rhythmic adroitness and dogged melody. His playing had rhythmic quirks bluegrass mandolinists tease on today, but I think it augments rather than detracts from his iconic sound.

Historically speaking, Monroe stepped the game up for virtuosity in American country music. Even when he was in his twenties, performing duos and trios with his brothers on the radio in a more old-time style, his technical alacrity caught attention. Monroe fashioned bluegrass with blues and even jazz influences, such as the idea of instrumentalists taking turns doing technical instrumental breaks, one after the other. Thus, not only did he have to be at a high standard, but he pushed everyone in his band to match it. This man regularly performed hundreds of songs at a whim with good ear and improv ability.

Now, Fidds, my beloved... how does he compare? We hear relatively little of Fiddleford McGucket's banjo picking in Gravity Falls. What information we could glean is contradictory due to animation and sound design inaccuracy. I apologize for upcoming jargon, but I'll explain. ;)

McGucket owns multiple banjos. All banjos he's owned lack planetary tuners, which tends to indicate a low-cost banjo beginners and non-serious players use. However, given as McGucket has dedicatedly played banjo since at least the 1970s, and is dedicated enough to own a collection, this suggests a more invested player. (Of course, you can play for years and be passionate and still suck, but there's a higher chance you're good, hah!) Looking at the meta context, the animators would have no idea they were connotating lower-end instruments, so let's go with writing intent: McGucket is the banjo guy playing with love and passion for decades.

McGucket is most often seen with open-backs, but also has had a Seeger (long-neck) banjo and a resonator. Open-back and Seeger banjos suggest McGucket plays in the old-time style, which is (often) based on repeated rhythms and chords. That we've never seen Fiddleford McGucket wear finger picks also matches old-time. Now, I love old-time, it's gorgeous. But. Old-time banjo doesn't... shred... so in a dueling session, this would be trumped by Monroe's more advanced approach.

On the other hand, McGucket has a resonator. Resonator banjos can and have been used for old-time styles, but in general: if you have a resonator, you're a three-finger style bluegrass picker. This is a very different technique than old-time and will start to put McGucket in the competition. It's also said in Journal 3 he loves listening to high-intensity bluegrass, and when we hear sound clips of McGucket playing, it's in the three-finger bluegrass style. They animate him wrong to be making those sounds, but those are the sounds they're evoking. So, given animation is always inaccurate depicting instruments and performance, bluegrass is the genre associated most directly with McGucket, the animators and maybe even composer might've had no knowledge of old-time and its sounds, and the soundtrack always evokes bluegrass-style banjo... the Gravity Falls team probably wanted to indicate McGucket played bluegrass-style banjo.

I'm not on a computer with speakers to listen to McGucket playing, but I distinctly remember A Tale of Two Stans. I can and have played that riff. I'll transcribe (more or less) it by memory rn.

McGucket is approximately playing the first few measures of Foggy Mountain Breakdown with the barcodes pulled off. He starts with the Foggy Mountain roll on a G chord, then descends to do a forward roll on an e minor chord. Without jargon, this means he's playing two very simple right hand patterns. These patterns are ones a baby banjo picker would learn in their first month playing.

And that's exactly what happened when you know how the soundtrack developed! Gravity Falls' composer learned some banjo for GF. He's doing what I would... learn baby-baby basics so you can record an instrument live. But this means that, because he learned juuuust enough to get the banjo sound in GF (S1 banjo sounds worse than S2 because of this learning curve, too), he can't depict McGucket as a skilled picker. He does an impressive job with the above measures given his inexperience (the tone is better than I'd expect), but the material itself is rudimentary.

Contrast this with Bill Monroe in one of his beloved instrumentals, Southern Flavor (he is the mandolinist who starts the song, first soloist):

Given what Gravity Falls put in the show, McGucket wouldn't stand a chance against Monroe. McGucket wouldn't get hired by Monroe. Obviously we have to do legwork to go beyond imperfect depictions - the limited knowledge and playing ability of animators and composer - so it's very fair to say McGucket is better than anything presented. But, even then, he's got zero shot competing against a professional who expanded virtuosity of a music style and forced musicians around him to get up to his level. Bluegrass had come into its own and many, many, many amateur players were playing breathtakingly by the 1960s and 1970s. But you ain't gonna beat the master who got 'em all there.

#I WROTE A REALLY STUPID WRONG NOTE IN THE TRANSCRIPTION BUT SHHHHHHHH NO ONE NOTICES #bluegrass #Gravity Falls #GF #long post #music #music analysis #analysis #my analysis #ask #ask me #Fiddleford McGucket #I swear I didn't say everything I thought on this matter either re: music #jayalaw #non-dragons #also: I have another music ask that I've been meaning to post since the day I got it #I'll try to finish it later today #if I'm still awake by the time work ends #shhhhhhh I didn't <.< and this <.< during work #what style McGucket plays is open to fandom interpretation therefore XD #I've seen some people headcanon him as an old-time player or both old-time and Scruggs-style

[jacky-rubou]

fiddauthor? (for the ask game)

Oh man, I ship it so hard it hurts. Probably my OTP of the GF fandom.

I think I started shipping it when I saw a bunch of fanart of it after I finished watching the show and just... felt something inside that opened my heart to it hardcore.

Oh where do I START? I love how it just adds another layer to their relationship and how they get to be back together and happy after everything. Plus the angst is exquisite if you're looking at it that way, and y'all know I love angst.

I'm not usually a person to go to for unpopular opinions, but I guess the most I could say in this regard is that I kinda like old Fiddauthor more? I love both old and young Fiddauthor, don't get me wrong, but something about the two figuring out their relationship and healing after everything that had happened between them is so sweet to me and I can't get enough of it.

can you tell I love this ship or what /lh

thanks for the ask and I'm always down for more!

#AskJacky #ask game #gravity falls #ford pines #fiddleford mcgucket #fiddauthor #they make me so squishy inside #it also helped me appreciate fiddleford as a character of his own a little more #no matter how backwards that may seem

[sparklehounds]

but what if he had a mullet

#the one of him doing the hand behind head pose is so funny to me #was talking about the anime boyification of the gf old men earlier and i was like you know what let me contribute to it #(ford voice) heh! didnt see you there ^_^ #every single day i make ford content that nobody asked for #last one can be interpreted as fiddauthor or not i just think fidd deserves an armrest #stanford pines #ford pines #stan pines #stanley pines #fiddleford mcgucket #gravity falls #my art #also i got like 6 error messages trying to post this so clearly tumblr is trying to tell me something.

[lesbiten]

ford writes gay ass stuff in code and then burns it because he has to stayin denial about how much he loves fiddleford

this is like 50% canon actually. ! the version of journal 3 in the show has a large chunk of pages burned and/or ripped out bc ford had his little #girlbreakdown before hiding it in the woods.

#most of which was probably the fiddleford pages because of. All Of That #as well as likely any pages that had information about himself LMFAO #so really when you think about it this statement isnt wrong #looking at the pages about fiddleford probably made him feel like shit and also probably made his paranoia about being memory wiped worse #etc etc #stopping now before i ramble about that guy #asks #mutuals tag

[thelastspeecher]

How about some Stan Swan shenanigans, maybe at backupsmore?

It's not as shenanigan-y as I wanted, but here it is. Hope you like it.

———————————————————————————————————–

              Ford stared out the window.

              “Whatchya lookin’ at?” a voice asked, breaking Ford from his reverie.  Ford looked over.  At some point, Fiddleford had come back to their dorm room from his engineering lecture.  Fiddleford dropped his bookbag on his bed.

              “I’m just observing Angie and the swan she’s managed to befriend,” Ford said.  Fiddleford frowned.

              “Swan?”

              “The swan that lives in the pond in front of the building,” Ford prompted.

              “Oh, the one what tried to bite ya and keeps chasin’ ya ‘round?” Fiddleford asked.  Ford nodded.  “And Angie’s befriended it?”

              “Yes.”  Ford looked out the window again.  At some point while he’d been looking away, the swan had climbed into Angie’s lap as she sat on the grass.  Angie stroked the swan’s back gently.  “I was under the impression she preferred reptiles and amphibians.”

              “No, yer right.  Sure, Angie liked chasin’ the chickens when we were small, but that weren’t ‘cause she liked birds, it was just ‘cause they were fun to chase.”  Fiddleford joined Ford at the window.  His eyes widened.  “Well, I’ll be.”

              “What?” Ford asked.

              “I recognize that swan.”

              “Of course you do, it’s the one that-”

              “Hates yer guts, I know,” Fiddleford said dismissively.  “But it also happens to be the swan what appeared at our farm a while back.”  Ford stared at him.  “I recognize that lump in its beak.”

              “You can see that from here?”

              “I’m a rather detail-oriented feller.”

              “Well, yes, but you have glasses.”

              “They’re readin’ glasses.  I just hold onto ‘em at all times ‘cause I don’t like realizin’ I need ‘em only to not have ‘em on me.”  Fiddleford shrugged.  “Anyways, I noticed the swan on the farm seemed to like Angie, but I didn’t expect it would follow her halfway across the country.”

              “I’ve noticed it seems to be remarkably intelligent.  That’s why I’ve been trying to study it.”

              “If it really did follow Angie so far, it definitely is smarter ‘n the average bird.”  Fiddleford frowned.  “Maybe yer right to study it.”

              “I’ve been trying to!  But it just won’t let me get close,” Ford groused.

              “Maybe ask Angie to take some notes fer ya then,” Fiddleford suggested.  Ford nodded slowly.

              “I’ll do that.”

-----

              Ford shuffled back to his dorm room, rubbing his eyes blearily.

              That’s the last time I drink coffee immediately before bed.  How many times have I had to get up to urinate?  He sighed.  Who am I kidding?  I’ll drink coffee as late as I need to in order to get work done.  He unlocked the door to his room and entered as quietly as he could.  The full moon filled the tiny room with light strong enough to read by.  It’s already almost daybreak.  Perhaps I should just stay awake.  I could watch the sunrise.

              Ford walked over to the window to watch the rising sun.  To his surprise, two figures sat by the pond.  The greater surprise, however, was that he recognized one of the people as Angie.  She and the other person, a young man, both had their backs facing the building.  Angie’s head leaned on the man’s shoulder.  A sudden protective instinct surged inside Ford.

              Am I upset that she refused to help me study that odd swan?  Yes.  Will I still observe from a distance to ensure she’s not taken advantage of?  Absolutely!  Whether I am frustrated with her or not, she’s still become like a sister to me.  Ford stepped away from the window and replaced his indoor slippers with a pair of more sturdy shoes.  He glanced over at Fiddleford, limbs akimbo and snoring loudly on his bed.  I won’t involve him.  He gets far too protective of her.

              Ford made his way downstairs, strolled through the lit but empty lobby, and exited the building as silently as he could.  As he got closer, he couldn’t shake the feeling he recognized the young man sitting with Angie.  Still, he was determined to silently watch from afar.  Until, as the sky was lightening, he saw the young man lean in.

              “No, no!” Ford yelped, rushing forward.  Angie and the young man looked over.  Ford’s heart stopped.  His feet almost did, too.  He did recognize the person who had just been about to kiss Angie.

              It can’t be.

              “Stanford, what in tarnation-” Angie started.  Ford moved past her and embraced the man.  “Uh.”

              “I can’t- I can’t believe it’s you,” Ford said, breaking off the hug and staring at his estranged twin brother.  Stan frowned at him and struggled free.  The negative response, coupled with suddenly remembering exactly why he was estranged from Stan, turned Ford’s emotions.  “I can’t believe it’s you!” Ford snarled, shoving Stan away.

              “Look, buddy, just leave me alone, okay?” Stan snapped.  He crossed his arms.  “You’re lucky I haven’t bitten your nose off for ruining the moment.”

              Bitten my nose off?

              “Stanford, go back upstairs,” Angie said shortly.

              “I have far too many questions for that.”

              “Go figure,” Stan muttered under his breath.  “Whether I’ve got feathers or not, he won’t leave me alone.”

              Feathers?  As the darkness of night rapidly faded away, Ford abruptly realized that Stan’s hair hadn’t just been reflecting the light of the full moon.

              “Why is your hair white?” he asked numbly.  Stan threw his hands up in the air.

              “Why do you always wanna study me?” Stan retorted.  Ford frowned.

              “I don’t know what you-” he started.  Stan turned away and stomped towards the pond.  “You can’t just-” Ford began, following.  The sun peeked above the horizon.  There was a flash of light.  Stan was gone.

              And in his place was the swan, swimming far out into the pond, beyond Ford’s reach.

#(it's not Backupsmore it's West Coast Tech btw) #(Ford gets into WCT and goes there) #also I didn't have Stan getting too explosive with Ford #he's a bit disoriented bc he feels like he knows Ford but he can't remember him #and also he's v confused #so he's not in punching mode. yet. #Swan Stan AU #Stanford Pines #Fiddleford McGucket #Angie McGucket #Stanley Pines #my writing #ask #elishevart

[princess-of-purple-prose]

People talk about "No Children" by the Mountain Goats being an epic divorce anthem (which it is) but what about "(I Want to Be the One) to Watch You Die" by the Megas? That song takes it a step further from "I *hope* you die" to "I am actively sending my robot son to kill you"

Anon, you sent this to me literally last august, and I've been feeling SO guilty because I wanted so badly to respond and I kept putting imaginary stipulations on being able to listen to the song and therefore never being able to, but I've FINALLY MANAGED IT! You're so right and also it was a great song <3

#also proof of how long this has spent languishing in my inbox is that when you sent this my IMMEDIATE first thought #was 'fiddleford behavior' #because summer 2022 was when i first watched gravity falls <333 #asks #anonymous #caps

[mozart-the-meerkitten]

me: *comes up with a fun AU in my head with Artham, Fiddleford and Bruno*

my brain: what if you drew it

me: oh my gosh you’re right, what if I drew it

Behold the boys! AU Fiddleford and Bruno. Where’s Artham, you ask? Well I stole him from Wingfeather Falls, which is my extension of Wingfeather Saga canon and he met and rescued the AU versions of his best friends. But then he had to go home to his own universe, of course. So, Bruno and Fidds have been charged with finding their universe’s Artham (they really want to, they miss their friend).

Fiddleford’s infinity scarf and Bruno’s ruana were made by Artham and they wear them everywhere now. Fidds’ scarf is light blue and Bruno’s ruana is green but the streaks in it are a dark blue and the details are different if I ever get around to drawing them. They both live at Casita with the Madrigals.

#fiddleford mcgucket #bruno madrigal #artham p wingfeather #drawings #my drawings #gravity falls #encanto #the wingfeather saga #alternate universe #wingfeather falls #(tangentially) #so many details here I barely scratched the surface #yes bruno is holding on to two of fiddleford's fingers #they're touch starved #they have lots of scars they have been through a lot these two #besties in the making #I accidentally made this AU somewhat sensible so if anyone wants to ask about it #I have MANY THOUGHTS #artham saved both their lives #(they also saved his once) #they're infinitely grateful #such good boys I love them #AU artham's design has not been finalized check back later akjghalkdgjasf

[ckret2]

Chapter 43 of suddenly human Bill Cipher is pretty eager to remain imprisoned inside the Mystery Shack:

The Eclipse: Part 1

Gravity's disappearing in Gravity Falls. Bill has an explanation for what's going on that has absolutely nothing to do with him, and also doesn't make any sense. Fiddleford has an alternate theory that makes a lot of sense, and has a whole lot to do with Bill. Ford trusts Fiddleford.

####

"An eclipse," Ford repeated. "Gravity's vanishing, you're floating, and you expect me to believe that it's due to an eclipse."

Bill shrugged. "I don't expect anything out of you. Believe whatever the heck you want. That's what it is, though."

"Even if it wasn't a ridiculous notion, there aren't any solar or lunar eclipses anywhere near Oregon this summer—"

"Did I say the eclipse was solar or lunar?" Bill asked. "No. I didn't." He breezed past Ford, heading to the kitchen. "Hey, is anybody gonna eat those pancakes?"

"Mine." Dipper ran past Bill to his abandoned plate.

"Then what kind of an eclipse is it?" Ford demanded.

Bill leaned on the kitchen counter, crossed his arms, and pursed his lips thoughtfully. Finally, he said, "Gravitational eclipse."

"There's no such thing!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Dr. I Think Having A Mere Five PhDs Means I Know Everything! Please, enlighten the trillion-year-old all-seeing eye who spent a year correcting all your math with your superior knowledge of physics!"

"It's twelve PhDs and you know it."

"Oh, so what! I can still count 'em on one hand." (Dipper gave Bill's hand a puzzled look.)

"Is that how it is!" Ford huffed angrily. "Fine, great teacher—would you be so kind as to educate your student on what the devil a 'gravitational eclipse' is!"

He fully expected Bill to start spouting some absurd science fiction explanation; but instead, Bill hesitated, gaze flicking nervously toward the ceiling. Ford looked up, but didn't see anything.

"Just don't worry about it." Bill rubbed his right eye. He turned away from Ford to watch Dipper struggle to squeeze pancake syrup out of an uncooperative bottle. "Everything will go back to normal in three days. Just—don't look at the sky."

"Why not?"

"Don't worry about it," Bill repeated.  "Hey, take off the lid and stick a knife in, you're never getting anything out that way."

"I've got it," Dipper said testily.

Soos came downstairs at about the same time Stan joined them from the hallway. "Dudes, I think something weird's going on," Soos said.

Ford turned his back on his fruitless conversation with Bill. "We've noticed. Gravity's decreasing."

Soos paused. "Oh," he said, slightly deflated. "I thought I was developing super strength."

"Sorry to disappoint."

"So what's causing it?" Stan asked.

"I don't know yet."

From the kitchen, Bill called, "I just told you!"

Ford didn't look at him. "I don't know the real reason yet."

Stan asked, "Think it might be a portal thing? When it was powering up, gravity got kinda screwy. It wasn't like this, though. Any time there was a surge, gravity hiccuped for a few seconds. It never just... went down a little."

"And not for this long, either," Soos said. "It's been like this all morning." He paused; then asked, hopefully, "You sure we aren't just all developing super strength at the same time?"

Ford shook his head apologetically.

"Aww."

"I suspected the portal first," Ford said. "But I just looked it over and checked the equipment. There's no way any of it could have powered on. It's been completely disassembled since last summer." 

Stan shrugged. "What else could it be?"

"The gravity anomalies occurred whenever the portal was connected to the Nightmare Realm. All I can think is that perhaps it's something else with a connection to the Nightmare Realm that might be having a destabilizing effect on the fabric of reality. Something much weaker, but steadily regaining power..." He turned to cast a venomous look at the kitchen. "Power like the ability to float..."

Bill had been preoccupied with dipping a strip of raw bacon into a stolen uncapped syrup bottle; but at the accusation, he stared at Ford in disbelief. "What—are you kidding me?"

"Have a better explanation for why, the moment all this starts, you can suddenly hover down the stairs?"

"Sure," Bill said. "I'm better at floating than the rest of you because I've been doing it longer."

"Oh, that's stupid!"

"You're stupid."

"You're up to something," Ford snarled. "I know it."

"What could I possibly be up to!" Bill spread his hands, exasperated. "Seriously! Tell me! What could I possibly be up to?"

Ford screwed his face into a scowl, trying to think of any way Bill could have orchestrated the gradual decline of gravity while imprisoned in the Mystery Shack. "You are up to something," he said firmly.

Bill groaned and rolled his eyes. "Well if you ever figure out what, let me know! I'm dying to find out what I'm plotting." He chugged from the syrup bottle like it was a flask. And then had to keep holding it up while he waited for the reduced gravity to work on the syrup.

"Hey, Dr. Pines?" Soos held up his phone. "Just got a text from Tate. He says Old Man McGucket wants to know if you can come discuss the gravity issue?"

"I was just thinking the same thing. Let Fiddleford know I'll be there as soon as I can. Does he want me to bring anything?"

"Nope. Just your handsome face." Soos chuckled. "He—he didn't say that part, though. I did. I just think guys should compliment each other more."

Ford nodded solemnly. "Thank you, Soos."

"Grunkle Ford, can I come too?" Dipper dumped his dirty dish in the sink. "I could—I dunno—help brainstorm solutions, or something...?"

"I'd be delighted." Ford had wanted to spend so much more time with Dipper this summer. By now, he'd thought they would have had at least one hike through the mountains around Gravity Falls and maybe dug into a couple of old mysteries he'd never solved. At least this was one mystery Ford could bring him along for.

Dipper's face lit up. "Hold on, let me go get my journal." He ran upstairs, bouncing up two steps at a time in the reduced gravity.

Ford murmured to Stan, "You can hold down the fort while I'm gone?"

Stan nodded slightly. "I'll keep a close eye on him."

"Good."

When Dipper had returned and they were headed out the door, Bill called from the kitchen, "Keep your head down out there. And get inside as soon as you can."

Ford shot a dark look at Bill, but said nothing. "Let's go." He shut the door behind them a bit harder than necessary.

Soos headed into the kitchen to make breakfast. As he passed, Bill said, "Hey. Does the 'guys complimenting guys' thing only apply to humans, or what?"

"Oh. Uh..." Soos pulled his head out of the fridge to look at Bill. "You... look good in yellow? Is—is that a good compliment? I don't know what triangle demons consider a compliment."

Bill considered it. "Sure, it'll do." He dipped another strip of bacon in the syrup. "I look even better in gold."

####

A quarter mile from the shack, Ford drove over a small bump in the road he'd gone over a hundred times before.

The car bounced so high that Ford's head hit the car roof.

Somewhere, he just knew, Bill was laughing at him.

####

Dipper's knee had been bouncing for three minutes straight by the time they approached the gate to the Northwest Manor. "Dipper, are you alright?"

"Sorry." Dipper planted his foot flat on the floor. "It's just—we're driving really slow, and this whole gravity thing is kind of an emergency..."

Just nervous. "I know," Ford sighed. "I can't go any faster without losing control. Lower gravity means lower traction between the tires and the road." But it was driving him mad.

At the manor, Tate greeted them at the door with a slight nod. "Hey. Dad's in the lab."

"Thank you, Tate. I know the way."

When they entered the lab, Fiddleford was working with a soldering iron on an electronic device the size of a toaster. He looked up as soon as they came in. "Stanford, Dipper! Good timing. Come in. How's the shack?"

"Down a few rubber balls."

Ford left Dipper to drift around the lab inspecting Fiddleford's equipment and listening in on the conversation as he and Fiddleford caught up. Fiddleford had first noticed something was wrong during his usual morning post-coffee rambunctious rollick, when he leaped high enough to bang his head on the ceiling. ("All the way to the ceiling? In this house?" "Well, I was standing on the counter, you see." "Ah, of course.") He'd immediately built a vacuum chamber he could drop various tools and cutlery in so he could measure the acceleration of gravity. Usually, objects on Earth fell 9.8 meters per second. When Fiddleford first measured, falling objects accelerated by 7.9 meters per second—almost 20% slower than they were supposed to. Now, it was 7.7 meters per second. If that rate of decline was steady, gravity must have been going down overnight without anyone noticing. By Fiddleford's calculations, gravity was decreasing by around 1.5% an hour—and, if it continued at this rate, it would be gone the day after tomorrow, by early afternoon.

(Bill had said three days. That wasn't even two and a half.)

Fiddleford had done some scans and called some old college pals down in Texas to ask if they'd noticed anything strange—and it seemed that Gravity Falls was the only place in the country experiencing anything unusual, at least according to NASA's data. Fiddleford had asked Tate to drive around town dropping things; quelle surprise, the gravitational oddity seemed perfectly contained to the circumference of the town's weirdness barrier.

"If you're in communication with NASA, I don't suppose you could ask if..." Ford winced at himself, "they've... noticed any astronomical anomalies?"

Fiddleford stroked his beard. "I reckon I could, but—why?"

Ford sighed. "Bill said this is being caused by what he calls a 'gravitational eclipse.' Which sounds like patent nonsense, but—on the one percent chance he's telling the truth..."

"I getcha. That Bill's as trustworthy as a rattlesnake with rabies—but until we know what's happening, we ought to consider every possibility."

"Yes. Precisely." Ford paused. "Can... rattlesnakes catch rabies?"

"Absolutely not! Which is why you should never trust one what says he's rabid."

"Ah. Yes. I see," Ford said uncertainly.

Like Ford, Fiddleford's first suspicion was that this had something to do with the portal—a suspicion that was scuttled when Ford informed him he'd already checked the portal. Ford's own next theory was that Bill personally was somehow behind this. His gravity already seemed to be far lighter than the rest of the town. But Ford didn't know whether that was because Bill was causing the gravity-reducing anomaly, or because the gravity-reducing anomaly was disproportionately affecting Bill. And even if Bill was causing it, as yet Ford had no idea by what mechanism he was doing it.

Fiddleford had the first idea that might explain how this was physically happening: dimensional rips.

At the end of last summer, the town and surrounding woods had been lousy with small dimensional rips torn in spacetime by Weirdmageddon and its aftermath. A few had been large enough for a grown man to stumble through, but many were barely as long as a fingernail. Ford and Stan had spent the last few days of summer running through the town and the woods with the kids, armed with alien adhesive, glueing shut the rips; and then—after traveling back and forth to California to attend Dipper's bar mitzvah and to get hollered at by Shermie for disappearing and/or faking a death—they'd spent most of the next month taking care of even more rips. (Just enough time for gnomes to steal Ford's new Journal 4.)

The remains of the rips could still be seen throughout Gravity Falls: odd invisible seams in the air that seemed to make the woods behind them bend strangely, like the transition between air and water where light refracted differently. Sometimes the sun would line up just right with a gap in the leaves so that you could see a sunbeam bending in midair.

Fiddleford had two theories:

Theory one: even after they'd sealed up all the rips, the distressed fabric of reality around Gravity Falls had grown threadbare. Rather than a few huge rips tearing through to the Nightmare Realm, countless micro-rips were forming—hundreds of thousands of holes between the fibers of reality, too tiny to be seen or detected—and they were reaching critical mass. The structural integrity of reality itself was about to catastrophically fail. The barrier between here and the Nightmare Realm could shred apart at any minute, ripping open a massive maw too wide to ever be repaired, irreversibly swallowing Gravity Falls into Bill's dying dimension of madness and leaving a frothing pustule of chaos trapped inside the weirdness barrier, ready to spread across all of Earth if anything should ever pop it!

Or two: something else was happening.

Ford thought it was worth investigating. The damage was already there; maybe Bill knew it, was exacerbating it—perhaps by his mere presence—and was just hoping the humans wouldn't figure it out before his homecoming.

"You remember the wormhole detector I built last September to sense when new dimensional rips were openin' up?" Fiddleford asked. "Well, it ain't detected a thing in town since March—but if these micro-rips are real, they'd be too little to detect from any farther than forty or fifty feet. So's I whipped up a portable scannermadoohickey!" He picked up the object he'd been working on when Ford and Dipper arrived. "You can take it to the places with the most damage and wave it around to see if it senses anything!"

Ford inspected the scanner. "It says it's detecting eighteen right now."

Fiddleford waved him off. "That's fine, a few itty bitty little tears oughta be expected for the kinda damage we got last year. But if my theory's correct, there's somewhere in Gravity Falls that'll have hundreds of thousands of tears within the scanner's radius. That's what we're looking for."

"Great. And, what do we do if we find them? Such small rips would be impossible to individually seal with my adhesive applicator."

"I thought of that, too!" Fiddleford scrambled over two tables, knocking tools on the ground as he went, to grab a plastic cone-shaped object the size of a football. He scuttled beneath the tables back to Ford. "Look! I made a glue grenade!"

"A—a what?"

"Once you figure out where the micro-rips are concentrated, just pour that alien adhesive of yours into this spout here, pull the pin, and chuck it! It'll instantly seal up all the micro-rips in the area and then cover the whole town in a cloud of alien adhesive, closing any remaining rips!"

"Hmm... It sounds risky. It would use up the rest of our andhesive all at once," Ford said. "And the environmental impact could be devastating."

Fiddleford blinked. "Environmental impact?"

"Just think of an adhesive this powerful settling over the whole town and forest in a thin film. It would glue people's pores shut! They wouldn't be able to sweat! Imagine. And that's just one example of the potential consequences."

"Hm." Fiddleford scratched his head. "I could invent a body lotion with alien adhesive solvent?"

"Or, maybe we should only use the grenade once we're sure that such an extreme measure is necessary."

"Aww." Fiddleford kicked his foot in disappointment. "Hold on—let me at least whip up a spray attachment for your adhesive gun. So's you can patch up any clusters you find as you go." He darted between several tables, searching through drawers and tool chests for supplies, and then returned to his soldering station.

"Wait, hold on," Ford said. "In the space of a morning, you've built a vacuum chamber to calculate the gravitational acceleration in Gravity Falls, called NASA to get ahold of somebody to collect data across the rest of the United States, built a handheld version of your wormhole detector, and built a grenade to distribute alien adhesive?"

"I sure did!"

"And, how long have you been awake?"

"An hour and a half!"

Ford stared. "Where do you get your coffee?"

Fiddleford glanced across the room at Dipper, and whispered, "I'll tell ya later."

Dipper had drifted over to the miniature particle accelerator and was slowly circling it, inspecting all the pipes, trying to figure out how it worked. He was leaning over the trash can when Ford drifted over to join him. "Hey, Grunkle Ford? I... think there's a cat in here?"

"You don't know that!" Fiddleford shouted. "It could be dead!"

"No it's not, I can hear it meowing."

"That might be something else! You can't tell!"

"I could just open it—"

Fiddleford chucked an empty plastic spool of solder wire toward Dipper. "Don't you touch that!"

Dipper withdrew his hand from the trash can lid and looked at Ford, baffled.

"I'll explain how it works," Ford said.

While Fiddleford worked, Ford caught Dipper up on the details of the fuel they needed for the Quantum Destabilizer, the contraption Fiddleford had built to synthesize it, and the complicated way they'd tried to paradoxically (not) observe the experiment in progress. When Fiddleford came over to offer the completed spray nozzle, Ford asked, "Any progress on figuring out how to get this thing working?"

"No," Fiddleford sighed. "I've been lookin' into more stable paradoxes to replace the cat. But as far as the observer—I'd hoped usin' twins might just get close enough, but I've redid my cac'lations three times and I'm afraid the only way to get this thing working is by gettin' one person to both observe and not observe it at the same time. If we can just do that, we'd have all the fuel we need. But for the life of me I can't figure out how."

"Maybe if we had two versions of the same person from different dimensions..." Ford mused. "But that would require opening up a portal to reach another dimension, and there's the risk that uniting parallel versions of the same person might destabilize our entire dimension. It's not worth the risk."

"It sounds like one of those impossible riddles," Dipper said. "Like, 'If only a barber shaves people who don't shave themselves, and if anyone who shaves himself isn't a barber, then who shaves the barber?' Because if he shaved himself he wouldn't be a barber but since he shaves other people he has to be a barber..."

Ford said, "A second barber shaves him."

Fiddleford said, "He just don't shave at all."

Dipper paused. "I think I told it wrong."

Ford patted his shoulder. "But I think you're on to something. We need to think of this as a riddle; and every riddle has a solution. We just need to find it."

"After we save the town, right?" Dipper asked.

Ford smiled wanly. "One crisis at a time."

####

They agreed that investigating all the potential micro-rip hotspots around town would probably necessitate a camping trip—which was the only bit of good news to come out of this mess so far. Due to all of this summer's Bill bullsoup (as Stan had taken to calling it in front of the kids), Ford and Dipper had hardly gotten to see each other so far, much less do any serious paranormal investigating together. Hiking and camping while in search of the strange sounded like exactly what they'd been missing out on—and it would've sounded even better if the situation weren't so dire.

Ford and Dipper came back in the Mystery Shack as Shandra Jimenez said on TV, "Today's top story in Gravity Falls is that gravity isn't falling. Many residents recall similar incidents around this time last summer, when gravity intermittently shut off entirely, leading many to ask: could this possibly be another devastating effect of global warming? Temperatures today are—"

Ford scoffed. "Global warming. Of all things. Gravity is probably the only part of the environment it isn't affecting."

"I dunno, Ford, maybe you oughta consider it." Bill was sitting cross-legged on the couch, chin in his hand. He had his eye patch over the eye he'd been squinting that morning. "As long as you're already rejecting the real explanation to make up one you like better, why not go whole hog? Let's adopt a real crackpot theory."

"You want to talk about 'crackpot theories'? Global warming sounds at least as likely as an eclipse."

"That says a lot more about your education than it does about the theories."

Ford grit his teeth. "You know I'm one of the most educated men on Earth."

"And that says a lot about your planet's educational system."

Stan, sitting in his armchair reading the paper, folded it down to glower at Bill. "Stop antagonizing my brother."

"Tell him to stop making it so easy."

Ford grit his teeth harder, but ignored Bill. "Dipper, go pack your backpack. I'll check the basement and meet you when I'm done."

"Right!" Dipper hurried up the stairs.

Ford crossed the living room, checking the micro-rip scanner—88 detected rips, over five times higher than at Northwest Manor, but still nowhere near the 100,000 rip danger threshold. He'd see whether that remained true next to the portal. He paused next to Stan's armchair, "Stanley, do you remember where we stored the alien adhesive applicator?"

"Uhh... when's the last time we used it?"

"Last fall, right before we headed to Seattle."

Stan lowered his paper, staring at the ceiling. "I think we stored it in one of the lockers in the basement, right?"

"It's not there," Bill said.

Ford gave him an exasperated look. "And how would you know."

"Because the first day I came here, I emptied out all those lockers and hid their contents while I was waiting for the rest of you to get downstairs."

Ford smacked the back of the armchair, making Stan start. "So that's what happened to my infinity-sided die! Where the devil did you hide it?"

"Frankly, I don't think you're responsible enough to handle that kind of power," Bill said archly.

"Where's the adhesive applicator!"

"What do you need it for?"

"That's none of your business."

"Pity." Bill turned up the volume on the news.

Ford moved between Bill and the screen. "If you don't tell me where you hid it..." What threat could he make? This was the demon willing to threaten suicide if his captors didn't keep him entertained.

"Tell me why you need it."

"As if you'd give it to me if I did!"

"Maybe I'll find your cause noble," Bill said flatly. "Try me."

Oh, what did he have to lose. "Fine. I'm testing to see if imperceptibly small rips are opening between Gravity Falls and the Nightmare Realm. If they are, I'm going to seal them shut." He hoped the revelation would throw Bill off—he hoped he was close enough to the truth to shock Bill into giving something away.

Bill's eye widened, eyebrows shooting up; and then he burst out laughing. "That's what Specs filled your head with? Embryonic wormholes? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard! And you're turning to him for an explanation when you've got a being with infinite answers sitting in your living room?"

Ford scoffed. "Sure, infinite answers—and just like the infinity-sided die, whatever I get is infinitely more likely to be trouble than anything useful. Now tell me where you put my adhesive applicator."

"I didn't put it anywhere." Bill held the remote out to the side to change the channel and stared at the TV straight through Ford, as if he didn't exist. "It's still in the basement. A little adhesive leaked out, I couldn't get the locker door open."

"Ha!" Stan slapped an armrest.

Ford whirled around to glare at him.

Stan held up his hands appeasingly. "Sorry! Sorry. That's not funny. Wasn't—wasn't funny at all. How dare you, Bill."

"I know, I'm just the worst."

Ford held in a harsh sigh and stalked out of the room. He didn't have time for this—not when they were on a deadline to prevent whatever was happening. (What if it became too late to reverse before gravity even reached 0%? What if they were approaching a tipping point when the whole sky would rip open?)

He opened the vending machine and headed downstairs.

####

He had to break the locker door to get the alien adhesive applicator out. He'd have to figure out how the nozzle had leaked before he stored it again.

According to the sensor, there were over a thousand micro-rips detectable just from standing near the portal controls. The number increased as he approached the portal itself; the highest quantity the scanner detected was nearly 5,000. Over fifty times higher than on the shack's ground level. It was clear some sort of damage had been done here.

But Fiddleford had said, for them to be concerned about reality shredding, there should be hundreds of thousands of micro-rips in one location. And Ford trusted any numbers Fiddleford gave him; wherever Ford tended to double-check his math, Fiddleford quintuple-checked his.

Even at the interdimensional portal itself—the spot where the veil between Gravity Falls and the Nightmare Realm had been ripped open and stitched shut so many times, the spot where the rift that nearly ended the world had been formed—there were less than 5% of the rips they needed before they started reaching dangerous levels.

Ford looked up at the portal, frowning.

The portal's torn and crumpled pieces lay against the cavern walls where he'd left them last summer.

Never mind. There were several other places that could be hotspots for micro-rips. He couldn't draw any conclusions about what was happening here until he'd checked them too.

But whatever was happening, it certainly wasn't an eclipse.

He added Fiddleford's spray attachment to the adhesive applicator and filled the chamber with a mist of glue, until the scanner read less than 200 micro-rips; then stopped by his study to grab a couple maps of the mountains around Gravity Falls, his antique lantern, and a tent; and headed back up to the house.

####

During their past year of travels, Stan and Ford had started keeping two emergency backpacks stocked in case they needed to flee on short notice. The backpacks contained everything they'd need to survive in the wilderness or a strange city for three days; and Ford had thirty long years of experience to teach him exactly what supplies that necessitated. He grabbed his backpack out of the guest room, and then spread out his map on the kitchen table to show to Dipper.

"If our micro-rip theory is correct, there are four potential places where I suspect they'll be most densely concentrated: the place where the interdimensional rift formed; where it was unleashed; where it was suspended for the majority of Weirdmageddon; and where it was sealed."

"And you've already checked the portal where it formed," Dipper said. "What about the place it was suspended? It was floating in the sky over town. There's no way we can get up there until gravity's completely gone, and by then it'll be too late."

"I've considered that. The closest we can get is Gravity Peak, but from there we should be able to get the sensor close enough to tell if there's an unusual amount of rips." Ford circled three spots on the map, and drew a dotted line connecting them. "We're heading out late, but we should be able to hit the locations where Weirdmageddon began and ended today. We can cross the lake to camp in the cavern behind Trembley Falls, get an early start, and take the hidden cave tunnel up to Gravity Peak."

"Not the best time for a hiking trip," Bill said.

Ford shot him an exasperated look. Bill was leaning in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, smirking condescendingly. "Or maybe it is, if you're trying to avoid as much effort as possible," he says. "But I still wouldn't go if I were you. You don't want to be outdoors during an eclipse—and you don't want to be on a mountain when gravity comes back."

"Nobody asked you," Ford said, turning his back on Bill. "Now—cooking will be difficult as gravity decreases, but not to worry—" he unzipped his backpack, "—I've already prepared everything we'll need." Grinning, he pulled out what looked like a toothpaste tube with a "beef and vegetables" label. "Astronaut food!"

Dipper grimaced. "Great."

"You should have asked me," Bill said, a bit louder. "Considering that Specs is sending you on a wild goose chase. But hey, if you're that determined to waste your time, just don't say I didn't tell you so."

"You haven't even told us what an 'eclipse' is," Dipper said. "If it's not important enough to explain, I don't see why it's important enough for us to listen to you."

"Well said," Ford muttered.

"It's too important to explain," Bill retorted. "I've told you everything you need to know!"

Ford said, "Ha," and started folding his map to pack.

There were a few seconds of blessed silence; and then Bill walked into the room, leaned on the fridge, and glowered at Ford. "Listen. As far as you're concerned, the eclipse is probably harmless. It should peak in three days—"

"Fiddleford said at its current rate of decrease, it should be the day after tomorrow."

Ford expected Bill to argue; but instead, he frowned uneasily. "I—Sure, fine, whatever, he's probably done the math, I've just been eyeballing it. Did he say what time?"

Surprised, Ford said, "early afternoon, by his measurements."

Bill nodded vaguely, glancing again toward the ceiling. "Whatever time it happens—gravity will gradually decrease until totality, and then it'll come back very quickly, so—if you want to help your town so much, tell them that they don't want to be climbing trees in zero G. Otherwise, the best thing you can do is stay inside, wait for it to pass, keep your eyes shutduring totality—and do not look up."

"Why can't we look up?" Dipper asked.

Bill laughed derisively. "Would you stare at the sun during a solar eclipse? It's like I'm talking to babies!"

The last fraying thread of Ford's patience snapped. He seized Bill's hoodie by the strings and dragged him closer. "Enough!"

Bill flailed, kicking the table as he tried to back out of Ford's grip, and ended up losing his footing and landing on the floor. It was too easy to drag him around—he was so light. Ford leaned down to glare straight in his eye. "If you're so worried about how we're handling this eclipse of yours, maybe you should come with us!"

Horror bloomed in Bill's eye. "What? No no no, that's—that's fine, I told you everything you need, I'd just slow you down, I'd really be much happier in here—"

"I bet you would be," Ford snarled. "As far as I'm concerned, the fact that you want to stay inside so much is reason enough to bring you along! Either something out there scares you, or there's something in here you want to be close to during totality! Maybe something will happen at the portal! Whatever it is you want, I don't want you to get it."

"Grunkle Ford?" Dipper had gotten out of his seat and was looking uncertainly between Bill and Ford. "I'm not sure about..."

Bill's gaze snapped from Ford's face to Dipper's, and Ford could almost see the gears shifting in his head as he latched on to a more vulnerable target. "Kid. Remember when I told you there are things out there you don't want to meet? Stay inside—let me stay inside—find a good book to distract you the next couple of days, and don't worry about things you don't want to know too much about. As far as you should be concerned, this is a weather phenomenon. You don't want to dig any deeper than that. Stay. Home."

The corners of Dipper's mouth turned down. He grabbed Ford's coat sleeve and said, voice low, "Great Uncle Ford, I... I'm not sure he's lying. I've never seen Bill scared like this before. And when he told me about things in other dimensions, this gravity thing hadn't even started, so he couldn't have..."

"Unless Bill was expecting this to happen, and everything he told you yesterday was the groundwork to make us believe whatever he wants us to believe." Bill had wormed deeper into Dipper's head than Ford had realized, if it was enough to make him consider Bill's nonsensical claims. Ford should have asked more about what Bill told him yesterday. The monster could have been filling his gnephew's head with all sorts of nightmares. "Doesn't it seem a little lucky that he told you all that one day before this?"

Dipper grimaced. "I mean..."

Ford glared at Bill again. "I'm not buying it. And the more you make up ridiculous explanations like 'gravitational eclipses' and 'things from other dimensions,' the more you insist that this is somehow both no big deal and incredibly dangerous just to witness, the less I believe this is anything but a patently ridiculous attempt to keep us from interfering with whatever is about to happen! And frankly, that makes me want to interfere even more!"

Bill let out a strangled laugh. "You've gotta be... If you think I'm that suspicious, how do you know this isn't reverse psychology?! Maybe I want you to take me outside!"

"Maybe you do. That's the awful thing about you, Bill: I can second-, third-, and fourth-guess everything you say, and I'll never be sure I've figured out the truth! At some point I just have to make an educated guess."

There was a knock at the doorway. "Hey, Dr. Pines?" Soos leaned into the kitchen. "I heard furniture and anger. Is everything... uh..." He trailed off, taking in the scene—Bill on the floor backed up against the fridge, Ford crouched over him, Dipper watching anxiously. "Everything cool here?"

Ford got to his feet. "Dipper and I are going on an expedition—and unfortunately, he has to come along. Soos, do you have a spare backpack we can use for his supplies?"

"Uh, I think so—"

"Great," Dipper snapped. "This is just perfect. I've been waiting a month and a half for us to do something cool together, and when we're finally about to go on an expedition, it's ruined by him?" He gestured angrily at Bill. "He's already ruined the rest of summer!"

Bill said, "Hey, I didn't consent to this plan either."

"You shut up," Dipper snapped. "This is all your fault! You could have just left us alone, but...!" He let out a frustrated noise. He pushed past Soos out of the room and ran up the stairs.

Ah. Ford's shoulders slumped. Sometimes he wasn't quite sure where he'd misstepped in a conversation, but this time it was pretty obvious. Between this and the nearly-disastrous trip to Portland, Ford was well in the lead for Worst Grunkle of the Summer.

"Wow. You broke that kid's heart," Bill said. "Not too late to make it up to him by going back to the original plan."

Ford shot him a dirty look.

Bill shrugged. "I'm trying anything I can think of at this point!"

Ford sighed harshly, and left to follow Dipper upstairs.

Bill sat up and waited until Ford's footsteps had receded. Voice low, he said, "Questiony, listen, I need your help. Stanford's gone completely insane. You didn't see how he was ranting and raving before you got in here. Who knows what he'll do to me if he gets me alone outside the shack with only his junior sycophant as a witness—?"

Soos looked deeply uncomfortable, but he shook his head. "Not buying it, dawg."

Bill groaned.

####

Ford knocked, and gently pushed the kids' damaged door open a crack. "Dipper?"

Dipper grunted. He was sitting on his bed, chin in his hands, glaring down at his journal in his lap.

"Can I come in?"

Dipper grunted again. Ford wasn't being ignored, so he took that as permission to enter. He delicately sat next to Dipper and tried to figure out what to say next. (He was surprised at how firm the mattress was—and then realized the real reason he wasn't sinking as far into it as he expected.) "Dipper..."

"You don't need to say anything," he sighed. "You're right—Bill probably is up to something. If he wants to be in the shack so much, and won't give us a straight answer why, then... it's probably safer to keep him out of it." But he sounded so terribly resigned.

"All the same, I understand your disappointment," Ford said. "I'd far rather go hiking with you than with him."

Dipper nodded. "Yeah. It's just..." He trailed off.

"I know. I wanted this summer to be different, too." Ford sighed. "As soon as he's gone, I owe you another hiking trip."

Dipper nodded again. He mumbled, "I've never gone hiking before."

This was some way to experience it for the first time. "We could treat this like a practice round? A warm-up with lower gravity to make it easier. Next time will be a real trip—without any crises to worry about, and without Bill."

"I don't mind the crises," Dipper said. "I'm kind of used to them, actually. They're almost fun now."

In his mind, Ford knew that this was probably another thing that should earn him a Worst Grunkle award. But in his heart, he was proud of Dipper. That was an adventurer's attitude.

"It's just... I haven't been able to get away from him all summer," Dipper said. "And even when I'm avoiding him, Mabel's spending all her free time either with her friends or trying to reform him, and you're spending all your time trying to figure out how to kill him, so I barely see you two..."

And that wasn't even something Ford could blame on Bill, was it? He hadn't been spending his time trying to figure out how to kill Bill since he'd handed over the Quantum Destabilizer design to Fiddleford. He'd simply been... obsessing. Hiding and obsessing. Ford stared down at his hands guiltily. "Tell you what. As soon as this is over, we can go do—something. I don't know what yet, but we've got a couple of days to think it up. I've spent too much time underground the last few weeks, anyway. We may not be able to go on that big adventure until Bill's gone—but it's something, for now."

"Yeah, I'd like that. Thanks, Grunkle Ford." 

Ford nudged him. "And as long as you do have to put up with Bill for this trip... look on the bright side. Haven't you been wanting to get a crack at him without your sister around? See if you can pry out any more alien wisdom before his execution?"

Dipper huffed—but one corner of his mouth reluctantly quirked up. "Thanks, but I'm starting to think that's a bad idea. Every time I try, he just says stuff that gives me nightmares."

"Well—consider it an intellectually broadening experience."

Dipper gave him a weak smile.

"Anyway, with a little luck, it won't be long before you'll never need to deal with him again."

####

Soos had an old Monster-Mon backpack with cracked vinyl around the straps that he hadn't used since he outgrew it in fifth grade. "Lucky I didn't throw it out when we moved. You never know when you're gonna need old stuff!"

Bill had no idea what he was supposed to take on a forced camping trip. He knew what humans took, but humans craved all kinds of material comforts that meant nothing to him. After a couple minutes staring at the bag forlornly, he stuck in a spare shirt and leggings—he doubted he'd need extra underwear or socks, right?—and the Pony Heist bedsheet he'd been using as his sole blanket the last month, his toothbrush and toothpaste, a cider six-pack, two boxes of cereal, a kazoo, and the TV remote.

"I need some first-aid supplies. In case of emergency," Bill told Soos.

"Sure, whaddaya need?"

"Bandages, painkillers, matches, and a knife."

"You got—" Soos paused, then pursed his lips at Bill disapprovingly.

Bill sighed. "Bandages and painkillers. And cold medicine. Woods get chilly."

He glanced up as he heard footsteps upstairs. Not much longer until he was dragged outside. He grimaced. "One more thing, Jesús. This is important."

"Whoa. Full-first-name important?" He stuck a bottle of cold syrup in the backpack, hit something hard, and peered in confusion at the six-pack.

"Stanford's being petty and refusing to believe anything I say, but I know you're not that stupid," Bill lied. "So listen: this thing will peak in a couple of days and then go back to normal. It's mostly harmless to humans—but once the peak has passed, gravity's coming back like that." Bill snapped his fingers. "So anyone you want to come out of this intact needs to do two things. One, the moment gravity completely disappears, they need to anchor themselves, as close to the ground as possible, before it comes back. And two, do not look at the sky. Got it?"

Soos hesitated; but then nodded. "Y-yeah, got it."

"Understand?"

"Understood."

"Good."

"So are you like... trying to protect the town now?"

Bill laughed bitterly. "I'm trying to cover my base. When this is all over, even if all my warnings were ignored, at least nobody will be able to say I didn't try. I could have sat on everything I know! But I didn't! And I'm going to rub. It. In. Ford's. Face." He punctuated each word with a jab to Soos's chest.

Soos endured the jabbing with a patience Bill didn't deserve. "Byyy protecting the town?"

Bill opened his mouth, reconsidered, and said, "Sure! Of course I'm protecting the town! Why would I want any harm to befall the citizens of my once and future capital?"

"I mean, no offense, but you befelled a lot of harm on us last year—"

"I did not," Bill snapped. "Everyone was perfectly comfortable in my throne of frozen human agony." He yanked the backpack's zipper shut, pulled it on, and pushed Soos aside to leave the kitchen.

Stan had stopped Ford at the foot of the stairs. "But if this is some nightmare dimension thing, isn't that just another reason not to take Bill outside? What if one of those wormholes opens up and he dives through? Maybe escaping back to his dimension will give him his power back, we don't know."

"I've considered that—but if that is what he's planning, all the more reason why he should stay with Dipper and me, so we can stop him if he tries anything."

"Are you nuts? It'll be two of you in the woods versus four of us here in the shack! We outnumber him more than you do! Plus walls and doors!"

"We have the hexed bracelets, he won't be able to escape us," Ford said.

"Aww, I get to share matching friendship bracelets with someone?" Bill gave Dipper and Ford what he hoped was his most obnoxious smile. "Who's the lucky guy?"

Scowling, Dipper raised his hand.

Bill's smile dimmed. "You are the lesser evil," he admitted grudgingly. "But I'm surprised ol' Six-Fingers doesn't want to keep as tight a grip on me as possible."

"We decided that if you try to kill your bracelet partner and escape, Grunkle Ford would have a better chance of avenging me than I would have avenging him."

Bill's brows shot up. "Ruthlessly utilitarian. Was that Stanford's idea?"

Ford ignored the question, pushing on with his conversation with Stan: "And anyway, there might be more people in the shack, but none of them would be me. I know him better than anyone else."

Bill laughed hard enough that his feet momentarily lifted off the floor. "Oh do you!"

Ford's gaze shot to Bill's face, eyes blazing with fury. "You know I do. I've spent thirty years learning every trick, every lie, every betrayal that's made you who you—"

"What's my favorite food."

Ford's mouth worked uselessly. "That—doesn't matter—"

"You think you know my innermost soul when you don't even know my favorite food?"

"Favorite... human food, or...?"

"Oh, sure, I'll give you a fighting chance. Human."

Ford chewed on the inside of his mouth for several seconds. Finally, he said, "Jalapeños."

Bill crossed the entryway, leaned into the hallway, and took a deep breath. "HEY, MABEL!"

From the far end of the house (where Mabel was seeing how high she could jump in the floor room), she shouted, "YEAH?"

"WHAT'S MY FAVORITE FOOD?"

"NACHOS WITH CHOCOLATE SAUCE AND SUMMER-SHAPED SPRINKLES!"

Bill gestured down the hall, ta-da. "THANK YOU!"

"I was close," Ford grumbled. "Nachos have jalapeños."

Stan said, "You're not even out of the house and he's getting under your skin. Are you sure you wanna—?"

"I am not," Ford said, "leaving him in the house. And if you'd heard how he was fighting to stay under this roof, you wouldn't trust him in here either."

Stan looked at Bill.

Bill looked Stan dead in the eyes and said, "I don't know what he's talking about. I agreed to go as soon as he asked."

"Oh, shut your—" Ford snatched the bracelets off the coat rack, flung one end at Bill, and handed Dipper the other. "Put these on. We're leaving."

Bill scowled, but considered his odds of successfully resisting, reluctantly put his end of the bracelet on, and yelled down the hall, "BYE, MABEL! I'M BEING KIDNAPPED BY YOUR UNCLE AGAINST MY WILL! I MAY NEVER RETURN!"

"I'LL MISS YOU FOREVER!"

Ford opened the door and gestured impatiently. Bill took a couple reluctant steps closer, but stopped to look at Soos and say, "Remember what I said. Do not let Mabel be in the air when gravity comes back, you know if someone doesn't watch her she'll launch herself as high as she can—"

Ford snapped, "Either you walk or I drag you, Cipher."

"I'm coming." He stepped outside, paused, and cast a worried look at the sky; then squeezed his eyes shut, lowered his head, and walked into the sunlight.

####

(That's this week's chapter! I'd love to hear your comments and thoughts. Next week: I'm gonna do my level best to shatter your hearts. Look forward to it!)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #grunkle ford #stanford pines #(for the chapter) #fiddleford mcgucket #(for the art) #gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls fic #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

[gin-juice-tonic]

Important question that has almost definitely been asked before, In the trans stan universe are they still identical twins making ford also trans or are they fraternal and stan just decided that they were identical one day, apologies I am anew follower

They are indeed identical. Ford is also trans

I keep all my trans stuff in this tag if you want to see more of it.

(Also, while a lot of the things in that tag are just silly scenarios for fun, Stan and Ford and Fiddleford being trans is a genuine headcanon at this point as opposed to a separate universe.)

#hi welcome :) #ask stuff #trans falls stuff #Pbbth #needles #tw needles #syringes #tw syringes

[tazmiilly]

I’ve been hyperfixating on gravity falls and every time I see one of ur drawings pop up on my feet I giggle and kick my feet!! Ur little beady eyed ford????? Autism/adhd art ever <333

while im definitely not the first to draw him like that, it is quite fun!!! it gives him a lot of charm! :D im glad you like him

#scribbles #gravity falls #ford pines #fiddleford mcgucket #fords the most autistic guy thats never existed #fiddleford gets 2nd place. but also #ask

[bugsinshoes]

ok so i just watched @fordtato and @hkthatgffan 's respective videos about their interview with THE alex hirsch and i wanna just say OH MY GOD like SERIOUSLY

im gonna put my thoughts under the cut so theres no spoilers if you havent seen it already (BUT GO WATCH THEM NOW PLEASE !!!) + its gonna be LONG so BEAR WITH ME

ok, so i have MANY thoughts so sorry if none of this is coherent 😭 (this is not in chronological order of when the questions were asked, just me spewing out my totally normal thoughts about this interview so apologies for that)

starting off:

THE BABY IS SHERMIE?!?!?!? IM SO SO GLAD WE FINALLY HAVE CONFIRMATION WE CAN FINALLY LEAVE THIS TO REST !! I WAS RIGHT THOUGH SO HA !!! ACTUALLY SCREAMING !! TIMELINE BE DAMNED (also another thanks to hana, your timeline video is genuinely awesome. i never shut up about it. ever. any time i talk to my friends abt gf and i need to refer to the timeline i go: "IN HANA'S VIDEO-") anyways, i do understand it was a last minute decision on the writer's part of "oh. dipper and mabel need a grandfather, its not ford, and its sure as FUCK not gonna be stan sooo... third brother?" and i do understand alex being like, "oh, this is about ford and stan only having eachother" so i think making shermie younger was a GOOD THING? like, stan and ford had 18 years of just them so shermie wasnt in the picture, so stan and ford technically grew up on their own so ig it works? also, when stan got kicked out, he never got to see shermie grow up, probably only saw him at events when he had to pretend to be ford (post-1983) and as for ford himself, he was too busy in college and gravity falls to really visit the family so... it works! (despite everything)

that aside, lets talk about THE CRUMBS??? like i have some quotes here because i have a LOT to say:

"theyre both so damaged and they desperately need each other" - alex hirsch (talking about stan and ford)

LIKE SUIUHUSHUSH i HATE these brothers SO MUCH (LIES) i cant actually properly express my thoughts because WOW like its clear that they both have their own trauma and they NEED to address it but theyre both too STUBBORN to do so. theyve both been alone for 40ish years so of course they need each other. they grew up by the hip, so theres no surprise that they both need each other (whether they like it or not)

"[ford's] grateful for the forgiveness he thinks he doesnt deserve" -alex hirsch

ford thinks so lowly of himself at times it HURTS. like the lines in the journal about "only then would the freak return a hero" or about his guilt with bill and everything its just so important to his character im so glad we got so much ford content in this interview. like i am EATING ALL THIS UP RN

"[ford] has to always have a mission in front of him, because if he doesnt have a mission in front of him, hes thinking how have i treated people in my life?" - alex hirsch

ford distracting himself with things instead of facing his problems. probably something he had to do a lot, especially with his time in the multiverse. but it really hurts because i can imagine in the 60s, they never had any great coping mechanisms? so i can assume ford was just conditioned to distract himself from stuff so he never learned how to deal with things. and i KNOW in the journal hes like "i meditate!" and im sure that does help somewhat, but it doesnt address the issue itself soooo... sorry ford, but you cant just breathe your way out of everything

ALSO alex calling ford and fiddlefords falling out a "BREAKUP" (air quotes used) BUT A BREAKUP??? this is just adding fuel to my fiddauthor-infested brain rn. i CANT

and alex saying mcgucket is thinking like, "oh i gotta be a better partner" is HEART SHATTERING like the whole talk about fiddleford being "the building guy" who is kind of just there to make machines and please ford. its honestly so heartbreaking because fiddleford loves ford so much he'd leave his wife and child to go to absolute nowhere, oregon and the fact ford is too arrogant to see fiddlefords admiration and overall love for him its just IUIUAHHAS

and i do wanna say, i KNOW bill played a big part in this, by stroking fords ego and buttering him up with his kind words because he knew exactly what ford wanted to hear and that really affected how ford and fidds' relationship was like but THATS A TOPIC FOR ANOTHER TIME. all i know is that ford isnt entirely to blame, but he still is a massive arrogant asshole and he wasnt the best person to fidds at times (love him tho <3)

but im actually so happy because this interview sheds SO much light onto FORD bcs we BARELY got to know him, and hearing it from MR HIRSCH HIMSELF is just so good because we KNOW its a reliable source because its coming from ALEX YK??? like he wrote ford so he probably knows "oh yeah, that man is guilt-ridden as FUCK" and im so glad we get some crumbs of this guy i cant get enough of him !!! (impatiently waiting for the book of bill)

ANNNDD THE TALK ABOUT MAYBE GETTING A SEA GRUNKS SPINOFF/MINISERIES??? I WOULD EXPLODE GENUINELY ANYTHING WITH MY FAVOURITE OLD MEN PLEASE !! i would genuinely love to see more of their dynamic and how everything is after weirdmaggeddon and like dealing with trauma and UGHHH i would kill for stan/ford content PLEASE

also...

hippie ford.

hippie. ford.

i am never getting over this (im internally SCREECHING)

ANYWAYS THAT WAS MY RANT ABT MY FAV THINGS FROM THE INTERVIEW THAT WAS A LOT GODDAMN

im genuinely so happy with all the questions that got answered, as well as getting some deeper insight into characters and stuff. IM NEVER GETTING OVER THE AMOUNT OF FIDDAUTHOR CRUMBS YOU GUYS

im gonna end this by saying another MASSIVE thank you to hana and hk !! you both put so much effort into your respective videos and it was super super cool !! this was totally worth the wait !!! :D

#yapping #gravity falls #god that was an amazing 2 hours of my life #time to rewatch them again and again until the book of bill releases #btw hana if youre seeing this i loved your puppets #they were very silly #also cant wait for that rob interview. super hyped

[queerplatonicshipshowdown]

Quarterfinals, Match 3

Stanford Pines and Fiddleford McGucket (Fiddauthor) from Gravity Falls vs. Moomintroll and Snufkin (Snufmin) from Moominvalley!

Propaganda for Fiddauthor:

very very close guys who do mad science together and also lived together for a little while

1. College roomies. 2. Ford called Fiddleford later on, asked him to cone to Gravity Falls, and they temporarily moved in together (on account of Fidds having a wife and child back in Palo Alto or something).

They Were Roommates. And DnD nerds, unhinged scientists (one of them made a deal with a demon and put a metal plate in their skull to prevent possession from said demon, the other builds homicidal robots and made a memory-erasing cult.), Best Friends, etc. Ford also wrote things like how they talked about their futures while star gazing, "my poor. beleaguered assistant".... stuff like that. TL;DR: roommates, played DnD one-on-one, and Ford talked about Fiddleford a LOT in his journal.

Propaganda for Snufmin:

BASICALLY. The author of the original books was a queer woman and Moomintroll kinda was her self insert. At some point she had a relationship with a man who was always traveling so they had to break up. So she made Snufkin's character, who was inspired by this man, and Snufkin and Moomintroll's relationship was inspired by both of them. But at this point of time you couldn't make queer rep in a book, so it was never canon, only ambiguous. However, the creators of the most recent cartoon, Moominvalley, are clearly aware of this backstory and made them even more ambiguous. Kind of "ambiguous best friends"... And ambiguous best friends is like, the perfect trope for queerplatonic headcanons.

#tournament #tournament poll #tournament polls #poll #polls #tumblr poll #tumblr polls #tumblr tournament #qpr #queerplatonic ship showdown #queerplatonic ship #queerplatonic #quarterfinals #stanford pines #fiddleford mcgucket #fiddauthor #gravity falls #moomintroll #snufkin #snufmin #moominvalley

[fordtato]

Among all of Hirsch's answers he gave, which answer is like your favorite? Or at least something he said that you most resonated with

It's hard to pick one, but the answer he gave when asked about how many in the fandom view Ford as a queer icon? That was really meaningful to me.

ALSO the insights he gave into Ford and Fiddleford's relationship - that was really incredible.

[shower-man]

gravity falls au idea

what if the betrayal just- never happened? additionally, what if Stanley fell into the portal via a freak accident when he came to visit?

The twins get sent to live with Stanford, and all his nerdy/only mildly traumatized weirdness. Soos and Wendy still work at the shack, just with different jobs.

instead of the big twin reveal being Stanford coming out, Stanley comes out of the portal even more of a con man than before.

my favorite part about this is Bill is just, there.

Stanford never bothers to explain the weird floating triangle he’s always talking to, and the twins never bother asking. Bill totally will take the place of Stanley in all major plot points he would’ve been needed for to progress the story.

Fiddleford is also still kinda cooky, but not as much. he doesn’t trust Bill very much, though. he gives him bad vibes

#bill cipher #stanley pines #stanford pines #dipper pines #mabel pines #gravity falls #alex hirsch #gravity falls au #fiddleford mcgucket

[lesbiten]

no you know what fiddlefords laptop password being stanford is funny for multiple reasons. like yeah okay its fruiticious behavior to have your buddys name as your password when you have like, you know, a wife and a kid that couldve been your password, however this also means that not once did dipper ever try putting ‘stanford’ into the laptop. dude sat there brainstorming 8 letter words for days and not once was he like “haha wouldn’t it be funny if the password was grunkle stan’s name”. as a former 12 year old im declaring that unrealistic

#look i get why dipper couldnt guess the password for like the sake of the plot #however #dipper jokingly putting stanford in as the password only for it to unlock and now hes just like. hey what the fuck is that about #especially AFTER they find out the laptop belonged to old man mcgucket. #how does stan explain that. does stan even know who fiddleford is like In Relation to ford #the kids present him with a laptop belonging to local crazed hillbilly fiddleford mcgucket whose password is His Name #and he has to bullshit some excuse for it while also asking himself Why The Fuck Mcgucket Has His Brothers Name As His Password #ok im going back to drawing. or possibly to sleep. was just having a moment about it #simon says