Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Ford, you know she would only be human on the outside, not on the inside,” Fiddleford shrugged to his partner Stanford. He inspected the rough blueprints of Ford's considerable goal since graduating from college. “She's going to be a robot, no matter how you look at her. She's only nuts and bolts”

“I know that.” Ford admittedly said. Leisurely, he reviewed over his outlines one more time. He knew he got everything correct, everything was set in perfect motion. He planned to create a human being, but, an AI.

In spite of that true fact, she wasn't going to be a simple AI. She was going to be filled with emotions, act excellently like a normal human would, have urges, emotions, dreams, thoughts and overall happiness. He programmed her to be her very own person, that's all he wanted for her; she was so much more than Fiddleford perceived her to be. Nothing was going to stop him.

It's not because he was lonely, no, of course it wasn't. Sure, he wasn't the most social and charming guy with the ladies. Her certainly tried and failed.

This was his ultimate experiment, creating a human being, it didn't matter in the least if she was a only an AI. He created her to be human, a person and that's what he's going to triumphantly achieve. A genuine conscious.

He got the spark of such a wonderful idea in his recurring dreams, they were always pleasant enough for him. Even awake now, he can imagine those sparkling eyes, true to life skin, and flowing hair. She would laugh, and smile, and do everything and anything she's ever wanted. Her curiosity and admiration would be her will. Especially, feel love, and give love.

He did have mild scenarios were he would wonder what it would be like to finally stroke her hair, press his lips to her glowing skin, look into her shimmering eyes, hear her rich voice actually functioning through her pink lips; breath in her scent - yes, he added and established a natural scent to her being when she comes alive.

Funny, If he didn't already fancy her, he did now. She was going to be his dream come true.

30 years later…

He nearly forgot about her when he returned through the portal.

No. In the back of his head he always thought about the AI that could have been. She was always in his mind, even when he didn't know, wasn't aware she was a nonexistent memory, he was going to start her, but he never did. It crept back into his brain when his eyes shuffled upon his aging old papers and manuscripts in the basement.

A folded blue piece of paper slipped out of a tattered folder and landed at his feet. Right there, he remembered everything. Shes was an idea, he thought she would forever be that, the one idea taunting him silently in the back of his head.

He slowly crouched and picked it up from between his feet. He took his time opening the paper, reminiscing on the nostalgia of those valuable days now wasted from being in the portal for so long. He needed to get back to working on his inventions, creating was his life, there was nothing more he wanted to do than discover the  undiscovered and create from the impossible.

He sighed in exhaustion, scanning over the notes and outline of his valued invention he once could create. He was much too weary now, he definitely could bring the to life, literally. But, there was much to do.

No, nothing ever stopped him before. It wasn't his age that withered his motivation, nor what he's been through since arriving from the portal; it was fear. He was highly optimistic in his younger years about everything, there was nothing he couldn't push himself to achieve personally. Only, this was a bigger scope. It was a creation of a being, a female AI.

Ford placed the print down next to him and rubbed his tired eyes.

Sitting himself down, he closed his eyes. His mind deliberately lost focus and reverted to fond memories of what his creation always was, and might be if she were truly in front of him. The warm fingers were his favorite. He imagined his creation stroking smoothly at his frame, pecking sweetly at his forehead, neck, and cheek. Her feather soft touch and keen smile. He notably sighed in content, and mentally blushed.

He imagined what her pink lips would be like, soft and thin? Warm and inviting?

He shook his head from side to side and clutched at his blueprints, abruptly standing up.

She needed to be here with him. And, he was going to make it happen.

He knew Stanley wouldn't question his long absence in the basement, the kids would, nevertheless this was for him. He needed silence and extended privacy.

He already had all the materials in the basement, they were dusted and slightly old, it would make do. He could make something imperfect grand.

Day and night he worked on the insides, the wires, sensors, and the overall emotional and critical programs for making her absolutely human for his liking. It was the purpose of his goal after all.

The closer her got to finishing his greatest creation the more he knew this was, without a doubt, the women in his head. Everything was stainless. He took into hours of details into her. For example, the strands of her hair right down to the eyelashes in her eyelids.

It was eccentric. Whenever he would accidently slept on top of his work he would open his eyes to look down to her, almost scaring himself into thinking she's was already real and simply resting. But, he was close. So close.

Some moments, he would just stare. He completed the essential out view of her figure, the skin, breasts, teeth, all of it. Yet, what grabbed his attention was her hands and lips. He was alarmed how what he picture in his mind for decades was right in front of him, and was closer than he could possibly imagine. Sometimes, he was stroke her lifeless hand, tracing his fingers over her visible veins and nails, locked in a state of extremity.

Inadvertently, he would weave their hands together, ignoring the fact he had six fingers. Sourly brushing that along, he noticed how right it was. She fit utterly ideal in his hands.

He had much affection for her. And, she was a fleck of an idea in his head. He would shock himself when invention like that were in his hands. They seem so simple or even complicated to venture, nevertheless, with a little adherence and compassion for his work, he usually skilfully finished his production. He brought them to life, into this world. He had that ability, and he didn't let it go to waste.

He was fairly reluctant with her, he had to admit. In the back recesses of his brain he thought she was going to turn out horrible. However, seeing her practically finished made his heart flutter, such a striking, positive action made him bite back a grin. He loved it. It was stimulating. He conspicuously feared she would turn out to be who he thought she was when he imagined her up. Now, he couldn't have been more dead wrong to ever have any of those pessimistic assumptions.

His exasperated eyes peered instantly at her once more, he leaned in and gingerly kissed the top of her forehead and clicked the power. This moment is what he has been waiting for.

His dream came true.

Chapter Text

You opened your eyes, the light above your vision was merely blinking, and you desperately tried to blink them out. You lifted your upper body, steadily caressing your throbbing temple with your left hand and gave a small groan.

“Hello.”

You squinted your eyes a bit, trying to adjust your eyes to the light. Afterward, you were faced with an older man. He had a firm face, gentle smile at the corner of his lips, peppered hair, and glasses; his hand respectively behind his back. You felt a rich swarm of warmth surge your veins, gazing at him made you heart flutter, although, in a harmonious way. You cocked your head, your eyes glued to his stern figure.

“Hi.” You replied in a low tone. You didn't know you voice sounded so hoarse. Come to think of it, you don't remember anything about yourself, or where you were. Who was this guy?

The man chuckled quietly. “Bet your worried where you are, and everything else, correct?” He stepped considerably closer.

You nodded once. “Yes.”

“Well,” He started, he smiled so big his wrinkles were more visible. His smile was very charming. And, his eyes were a nice shade of brown. Woah, where did that thought emerge? “I programmed you with a human consciousness, I wanted you to be a normal being, and I thought it would be more of your nature if you awoke without knowing anything, so you can discover everything. Does that make sense?” In response, you nodded again. All the while he was coming closer, feet now in front of yours that was dangling off the edge of a cool table.

He finished his explanation with a lovely, reassuring hand on your shoulders. You naturally eased into his touch. You authorized such reaction, you wanted more.

“I'm your creator.” Ford informed with a silky tone.

With ease, you placed your hand over his that was occupying your shoulder, giving it a nice content squeeze, staring into his comfortable stare. “Creator.” You repeated, allowing it to roll on your tongue. Ford exhaled sharply, a small blush creeping onto his cheeks.

Wonderful, this kind man was your creator. Your heart advanced its fast pace in your chest, the feeling was unusual, but not unwelcomed either.

Casually, you stood up, feet cold on the cement floor. You looked up, meeting him face to face, you could even feel his warm breath brush your face. You liked his scent, he smelled extraordinary, you bit your lips to hold a smirk from revealing. Ford's hand detached from your shoulder and he looked down to you, anticipating your next actions.

You wanted to … what was the word? No, you … express it.

Your attention drifted down to your hands, you slowly flexed them, and that same urge grew considerably stronger.

You acknowledge the electric feelings and opened your arms wide open, ridding the obvious gap between you two and entangled your arms around his neck, pulling him very close. You embraced this accelerating titillation. He hastily hugged back, arms tight around your waist. Breathing in, you wrapped your head around at the feel of your lungs filling up. Second passed, you closed your eyes, ear firmly pressed to his chest, listening to his heart's rhythm.

Ford, your creator, kept you down below in the basement of his brothers con buisness shack - so you've been told - and wondered what everything was like up there (previously it was Ford's old secret lab house when he was younger when he moved to this town of Gravity Falls, created his precious Journals, before he got stuck in an inter-dimensional portal for thirty years). It was only temporary, just a couple of  days for you to adjust to your body and new life, control your limbs, breathing, physical and mental responses, sleep patterns, food consumption, and double checking on your normal arrival of natural sensories.

Also, he tested your knowledge and filled you in on new educational details. You aced everything of course, and he was always open to show his pride when he was to see how properly you turned out. He was consistently amiable in your presence. You noticed, there was never a time when you were around your creator that his smile never faltered, even when you were both under comfortable silence he manages to have a tiny quirk on the corner of his lips.

He explained half his life to you, why he was inventing, how he dearly loved it, creating accomplishments like me gave him the best sense of achievement; knowing challenges were a very small milestone in his experience.

Further explaining himself, he told you about his condition, how he had six fingers on each hand. During his tale and short mentions of insecurity, you looked to your fingers, they were definitely flawless and had the correct numbers of fingers that hands should have compared to his. Brows furrowed, you chest ached, you were sympathizing.

“Hey,” He ushered. You lifted your eyes to him, he was soft. “Don't think it ruined my life, I got to investigate the strange and weird. Why not research and understand the strange to understand yourself? I would say it was a great thing for me to love the supernatural. Wouldn't be who I am if it wasn't for this, right? Wouldn't have led from all this to creating you…”

Out of spite, you reached for his hand and grasped it, weaving your fingers together and pulling them to your face, cradling them close to you as possible. You were grateful to have an imperfect creator. You didn't mind being straightforward with your emotions, having more leniency, expressing admiration for Ford.

When you lips accidentally skimmed his knuckles, he loosened himself. Puzzled, he detached from your actions and saying how he was going to get something from upstairs, leaving you alone down in the basement, pondering why he was flustered so quickly. You shook it off.

From that day, you think he’d be distant, you were wrong. Most moments, you tend to act like you didn't notice any of his burning, yet benevolent stares out of the corner of your eye. It secretly made you happy how intrigued he was with you. Your heart often did it’s unmistakable flips when that would happen. And, that was all the time really.

The day you were set to have your first glimpse at the outside, beyond the basement, excitement was duly and understatement. You had your first set of jittery giggles, and crepts of goosebumps were evident on your skin.

Admittedly, you would dance for joy when Ford had his back turned when you both finally ascended the stairs that led straight to the door.

You couldn't hold back how thrilling this was! You were thirsting to see so much more, and that's what you know Ford made you for; to have your own curiosities and expectations, give yourself a purpose. You couldn't ask for a better creator.

Ford opened the door, light broke from the opening and hit your eyes, you couldn't turn away, no matter how bothersome in reality it was. He stepped aside, waiting for you to get past the door and then he closed it behind you.

You gasped, pulling your fists to your chest, a smile exploding on your face. It was the con shack Ford told you about, there was just as much fake objects and trinkets as he told you about. “This is awesome.” You claimed under your breath. Nobody was around, so you willed yourself to look upon the objects in astonishment. “Woah, look! Chicken feathers glued to a snake's skin!” You gaped, pointing it out Ford. “How does your brother get away with such foolishness out in public?”

“Foolishness?” A voice different from Ford's pipped up, a deeper tone. “I like to call it being the smartest guy in town.”

Your eyes feel to a man that looked exactly similar to Ford, especially when they were standing next to each other. You immediately registered that it was Ford's brother. He looked slightly different from his brother, however. He had a trimmed suit, fez, and a cane for show. Other than that, the similarities in face, and hair were quite comparable, but their eyes were the most strong  identical thing about them. Plus, if you had to add, they were both attractive for their age.

“You swindle them.” You replied, feeling a rigged statue of a mole-canary between your fingers.

“Whos the squirt?” He asked annoyingly to his brother. You unknowingly pursed your lips, putting the statue back on the weary looking shelf, with hats alongside them saying ‘Mystery Shack’.

“Grunkle Ford!” Another voice emerged, a more higher, pre-pubescent one. A small child with a blue and white hat rushed over to Ford, tightly holding a red book against his chest. “We haven't seen you in forever! I have a lot to tell you!” He informed brightly.

Next, a girl with a oversized sweater ran right behind the boy, a pink pig following in her awake. “Ford, you're alive!” She said, a beaming smile, teeth full of metal braces. “Me and Grunkle Stan were making bets whether or not you got sucked into a wormhole created by an actual mutant worm named Hammer Ham down there and eventually we would have to rescue you with salt or poison and toxic radiation or something!” You weren't sure if she even took a breath throughout her informative theory, you liked her creativity, nonetheless.

Ford looked to you, you both shared a small smile and a glimmer of amusement reflected in both your eyes. You shrugged casually, a laugh slipping.

The small girl noticed your presence, “Oh, hello,” She waved, walked closer to you, you waved in return. “I haven't seen you before, are you a new tourist?”

“No,” You answered in a polite tone. You peered down to the pig sniffing and licking your shoes. You turned, pointing to Ford, “He's my creator.”

Everyone suddenly grew outrageously silent. You bit your lip, you were somewhat anticipating for something along the lines of this event happening. Ford had hinted that it was unheard of someone, anyone, creating a human AI.

“Woah,” Stan said, breaking the silence. “Um, a little bit too inappropriate to show to the kids, eh? Keep it in the bedroom.” He roughly muttered to his brother, trying to be discreet as possible. The kids were none the wiser, thankfully. You huffed, that's not what you meant in the slightest. Where was his brother getting these absurd ideas?

Ford sighed heavily, detaching his place from aside his sardonic brother and over to your side, placing a warm arm around your shoulders, holding you close to him.

“Everyone, I have an announcement to make,” Ford said aloud, everyone whipped their heads to him. Stans was in bewilderment. The kids faces were equally the same.

Stan cocked an eyebrow, waving his hands in the air. “Oh god, don't tell me you were in vegas this whole time and married to a, er  -”

“ Married ?!” The girl squealed, she quickly imitated a wedding song. “Grunkle Ford, you got married? Why didn't you tell us sooner, I would've been a perfect flower girl for you guys! Waddles could've carried the rings!”

Ford face burned, surprised by their reaction from his unfinished statement. “No, no. I did not! It's not like that whatsoever!” He denied. He let go of you - you personally missed the contact - and his hands gestured to you, placing you as the center of attention. Clearing up the hast mix up, he decisively enlightened his family, “I created her. She’s my invention. She's an AI, artificial intelligence. But, not any normal AI, I created her for the sole purpose to be human .”

Now, there's was another round of silence. Although, it was more like everyone was in astonishment than awkwardness.

The little boy spoke up, eyes widening in affirmation. “She's a … robot?”

“Cool! She's a robot?” Mabel gasped, eyes lighting up like stars, gently skipping over and poking at your legs and hand. You didn't mind, and let her proceed. “You feel so real!” Then, she laughed, “Grunkle Ford, you made such a pretty robot.”

Ford looked away bashfully, and you smiled, thanking her for such kind compliment. Ford then walked over to his brother and they exchanged words. “What's your name?” You asked her, the question has been on your mind since you laid eyes on these new people that are your creators family.

“I’m Mabel Pines, nice to meet you lady Robot!” You knelt down to her level and shook her hand happily.

“Pleasure to meet you, too.”

Mabel panned over to the boy, “Dip, come say hi,” Dipper nodded, slowly coming over, the tiniest of pink shading his cheeks. “Sorry, he's nervous around girls.” Whispered Mabel, you gave a quick thumbs up to her.

“I’m Dipper Pines, Mabel's twin brother. Nice to meet you, uh lady Robot.” His tone coy.

“Nice to meet you, Dipper.” Smiling warmly at his shyness, he reminded you faintly of Ford. “Love your hat, by the way.” You added kindly.

“Thanks.” He said, still embarrassed, trying to cover up his light blush. He parted from you and went over to Ford, you overheard him ask questions about you to him. Confirmed, he was like Ford in abounding ways, smart and fascinated by the unexplained.

You contemplated over the title given: Lady Robot, it was cute they called you that, but you never thought of a human name, like they have. Come to think of it, Ford never had given you a name, and you barely thought about it, till now of course.

“I know you already met him, but this is Waddles, my pet pig!” Mabel chimed, lifting up the evident chubby pig, it squealed and snorted in your direction. You lifted him up with ease, looking him over.

“Hi, Waddles.” You cooed. He looked you in the eyes, adorably eliciting another snort, then you returned him back to Mabel.

Thinking over the events, this turned out to be a successful time. You met your creator's family and they seemed to like you, you weren't sure with his brother, he was more stunned then the kids, not unpredictable.

“You're going to absolutely love it here,” Mabel appeased, snapping me from my thoughts. “Me and my brother are here for the summer, it's been a blast, you’ll have to come on adventures with us. My brother loves Grunkle Fords journals filled with Gravity Falls creatures, and he goes and explores them.”

Gravity Falls full of explorations? That sounded amazing to your ears. You wanted to know more about this town outside of this fake con shack. You had that wild urge Ford had said you essentially needed to seize, your eagerness was overpowering your mind, you wanted to see more of everything.

“One time,” She continued. “Ford and Dipper played this nerd game and the characters came to life and kidnapped them and we had to go saved them, and be back in time for the Duck-tective finale! Do you watch TV?”

“No, I don't actually, you can show me your favorite shows sometime though.” You responded, laughing at her silliness you quickly become accustom to.

“Deal.” She laughed.

“Grunkle Ford,” You heard Dipper say, “I found that phoenix-zebra from your journal and I was hoping you would come find it with us?”

“Well, I'm pretty busy as it is, but,” He trailed off, catching your gaze. “I know someone who can help you, better than I can maybe.”

“Me?” Pointing dumbly to yourself, raising a brow. “I can go with them, really?”

“I did make you to have your own sense of want and life, why not? Go have fun.” He pushed, strolling toward you and put his hand down your back. “Go be a girl and explore everything you want, okay?”

“Got it.” You smiled in content. He pecked your temple - going unnoticed by everyone - and you blushed, Dipper and Mabel calling over to join you, exiting through the shacks front door. “Coming! I'll see you soon,” You said to Ford and went to catch up with the kids, waving Ford one last goodbye before closing the door.

“So,” Stan suspiciously looked over to his brother. “Since you made a robot to be human, does the wires and stuff inside count?”

“Her unique exteriors are still robotic, minus the other compartments.”

“Compartments? Woah there! You're talking about her lady parts would still function as regular lady parts?”

“I - yes.” His face turned red, shoulders stiffening. “I made her flesh to feel and look like actual human flesh, that does include in that area. And, since her sensories are well connected to her constructed nerves, then yes. If that got anywhere through your head.”

Stan smirked devilishly at him, ignoring how uncomfortable Ford appeared. “If I'm hearing right, while you dedicated a majority of your time while creating her, you literally fixed up her lady parts to functionally work like a real woman? Damn sixer, you got yourself a sex bot at best.”

Ford fumed, he almost wanted to punch Stan to the moon for being thick headed. “No, that's not what I built her for! I built a robot to be a human, not to be used . She can make her own decisions. I even examined her for the few days, results had sexual irrelevance.”

Stan grunted, entertained by Ford's defense. “Sure thing. Just remember you got a cute gal bot, young by the way, don let her run too wild. Tests do have errors.”

Ford gave Stan a long glare before heading back down to the basement.

Chapter Text

Walking out with glee, even with a slight sprint on your steps, you had to interrupt it to finally capture a clear look at the shack from the outside. You didn't suppress a single laugh as you saw the word "Mystery Hack' instead of the accurate title - you knew it was the place's name from the hat earlier - 'Mystery Shack' from the obvious letter S slanting down from such poor repair of Ford's brother. Or, who knows, maybe it's a clever sales tactic. Later, you found out from Dipper that was not the case.

Gravity Falls was beautiful, you've never seen that much trees and the colors had a perfect shade of summer (granted, it was your first ever summer since your existence) and you were splendid with every new second of it. The Pine trees usually tricked with your mind, thinking you saw something out of the corner of your eye. But, that was part of its supernatural charm you picked up on. You were beginning to like summer here in Gravity Falls, and appreciate your creator wishes to venture, traversing was your essence. You seized it all very quickly.

The twins friend (also the shacks handyman) tagged along in your group, his name was Soos Ramirez. They explained how he could be a clumsy guy at times, yet he was handy, always had something to rescue them out of a bitter predicament. In detail, they recounted him not being the hero in particular, but how he was a zombie for an entire morning after a celebratory night had gone horribly wrong.

Dipper had risen the dead and they had to defeat it using my creators Journals. The result was them singing karaoke as 'Love Patrol Alpha' well into the night to kill the dead. Mabel was proud to say Dippers squeaky voice actual hit a good high note in the song 'Taking over Midnight'. She told you he was born to sing choir, and was going to force him to join when they got back to school.

Also, you needed to invest yourself in some good music, that would be a nice stimulation Mabel told you, so she would happily let you borrow her CD's.

Mabel was the first to tell Soos that you were a female robot. He didn't seem surprised, but was excited to be walking next to a robot. He asked to see your on/off switch, but you told him that you didn't have one. Then, he asked you if you had a super, mega, awesome self destruct sequence when something went wrong and you had to save the planet, you answered no to that too. Oddly, he asked you if you were related to a 'Romance Academy 7' video game dating simulator? You again answered no, and he stated you were, "Cool, girl dude".

Dipper told your group that you were going to look for the phoenix-zebra. Asking Dipper to see the Journal he pushed it to your direction and you held it close, stroking the page with your fingers, and reading the description and analyzing its illustration. It made you smile knowing that Ford had made this. A silent, "Wow" passed you lips. Your chest warmed, he had such a bright passion for this town.

"And, we're going to go look for this?" You asked, handing him back the Journal.

He smiled, "Yeah! It said if you find it, it will be guarding a buried treasure, and I wanna know if it's true!" This kid was glowing, he had such a fond interest in this stuff too. "In order to put it to sleep so you can get to the treasure you'll have to feed it a rare sap."

We headed down an uncharted passage and cautiously went down a steep hill.

"Sap? Like, Mabel syrup, man?" Soos questioned.

"Hm, it's rare, I'm guessing it'll be hard to find." Dipper said, continuing. "It says the sap must be harvested from the most golden tree,"

"Gold sap?" Mabel jumped. "Real sap made out of gold?!"

"Yeah, and we had to find it amongst, oh ..."

"Oh?" Mabel lips pursed. "It's in the Oh woods again? I'm not going back there, those beetlesaurs had it coming, Dipper! You know that they did! Who cares if we had to sell them off, they bit us with those sharp, gross -"

"Mabel, no. I said 'oh' because we have to go into the gnomes territory at the trees of the forest."

"Are you kidding me?!" Mabel now shrieked, clutching the hem of her pink sweater. "What if we run into Norman? I don't wanna see that ugly butt face since the almost marriage thingy happened! Big nope from me!"

"Marriage?" You retorted, quirking a silly smile. "You almost married a gnome?"

"Yeah! First summer romance gone wrong!"

"First?"

"Mabel had a history since we moved here to get a boyfriend," Dipper said. "She hasn't been that successful."

Mabel cracked and seeped into her unfathomable emotions. "All of those not-so-epic fails and Mermando could've been the one! If he wasn't a mermaid!"

You opened your mouth to reply to her comment, Dippers small hand patted your arm, "Just go with it, all of them are too long to explain." You nodded in understatement.

Walking more further, you all eventually crossed a tiny border, and a sign saying it was the gnome forest. The place looked no different than the rest of the wood, anyone could stumble upon this if they walked long enough like they did. Although, you couldn't register a subtle type of smell that you keenly wafted.

You said, "Is there a preferred protection against the gnomes, or are they too little to care about?"

"BURN!" Mabel yelled, grasping her stomach to contain the spontaneous laughter.

You rolled your eyes, you didn't necessarily mean to say with such attitude toward them, but if that's what she liked than you did not mind the tiny smile forming.

"They have no weakness," Dipper replied, "Except for leaf blowers."

"We didn't bring any leaf blower with us, dudes." Soos informed.

"Darn! That would've been really helpful if we had to come across you-know-who again." Dipper sighed, closing the Journal with a light slam.

"I would've blasted all of them with ten mega leaf blowers!" Mabel threatened, gritting her teeth.

"You rage has no boundaries." You giggled, loving Mabel's rage.

"I would! They're little jerks!"

"Settle Mabs," Dipper attempted to sooth her. "We gotta find that golden tree."

Dipper mentioned, "I think I got something that could maybe help us with the gnomes,"

"I got binoculars," Soos added in a delighted voice, grabbing it from his pocket of his khaki.

Dipper clicked his tongue. "How does that help?"

You ears picked up on loud rustling in the trees, you looked up, the sun was covered by the heavy bushes from the hundreds of green trees. Body tensing, you got the most peculiar and unsettling feeling, eerie; like all of you were being watched by the minute. You bit your lip anxiously, narrowing your eyes to find any cause of the movement. Solemnly, you couldn't see anything.

For a split second, you caught sight of something red. There was no way it was your eyes playing tricks, you were created by Stanford Pines after all.

"Hey," You mumbled, voice unnerved. The rest were conversing dejectedly about what object they should use if they were to scare dozens of gnomes, now the rustling of the ominous leaves got louder as they got closer to your group. Tediously, no one noticed. Feebly, you curled your fists in automatic defense. "Hey, guys, I think -"

That's when you all were bombarded with high squeals of tiny gnomes with ropes, sharp objects as weapons, and sharp teeth.

Slightly limping your way back to the Mystery Shack, you were humorously found with the gaping mouths and worried shouts of your creator and his brother.

While entering, you carried your damaged and bruised body inside, Ford running to your side. You were soothed into your side. The twins were riding tiredly on Soos' shoulders, as he heaved out ragged breaths and a weak smile when greeted with Stan's yelling. "Hey Mr. Pines."

Face protectively pushed into Ford's sweater, you hauled into his strong scent, smirking a bit as you felt his tight arms secure around your shoulders for a quick hug. You didn't protest as you silently winced in pain as he put blind pressure on your sensitive areas that held those nasty bruises and cuts. He pulled you back, hands still on you and expression of worry and horrid panic, clumsily asking for an explanation of some sort.

You wanted to tell him to how close you all were to getting to the gold sap in the gnomes fortress, however, you escaped when the gnomes tied you up and you all escaped with Mabel's sharp hair pin. Aimlessly, you wandered around to find it, to no avail, you didn't.

Your eyes twinkled. It wasn't unnatural at all, you sort of enjoyed this pain; it's the first time you ever felt pain, it was different, and being in pain made Ford give you attention and amazing comfort; It didn't bother you. You loved his distressed eyes on you, exploring them would be a wondrous adventure, even more than Gravity Falls, you had to truly admit to yourself on that tiny detail.

You felt his heart speed up as he pushed you warmly against him once more. His rapid, concerned lips moving on top of your head.

Softly, you said, "I'm sorry."

You bit back a giggle.

That night in the basement, you slowly made your new thoughts know to Ford as he was tinkering with some machine.

"Mabel made me aware today that I don't have a name." You told Ford, you arms behind your back.

He gaped at you, surprised with himself. He stroked the back of his neck nervously, "Oh, I guess I didn't huh?" You smiled along with his minor blunder.

"It's okay, Ford." Gently smiling at him, his eyes scanned to the floor. "It's not like I really need one, everyone seemed to enjoy calling me a robot -"

Ford interrupted you with a sharp tone, "No, no one is suppose to call you that." Your hand that was placed on the table was quickly covered by his flushed, six fingered hand. Your heart skipped, boring an intrigued stare his way. "Yes, you are a robot, but, I never want it coming from your mouth that it's 'okay' to call you that. You need to be you, okay?"

"Me?" You blinked. Mabel and Dipper have very pleasing and interesting names, although you did hint that Dippers name wasn't his true name, but held meaning. Having a relevant title was nice too, yet Ford dejected that. You can honestly see why, of course. Picking out a name for yourself was compelling in its own striking aspect.

"Any name?" You asked lowly, deep in thought.

Ford whispered, somehow hardly emitting a sound, and grabbed your hand tighter, "Yes."

Mutely, you detached your hands and thoroughly faced him, your other hand upon your chin.

"I have a question,"

"What is it?" He asked, a little dismayed as your eyes flickered at him, full of earnest - and a hint of mischief - you intended to ask him, "When you first created me, or even when I was a single thought in your head ... did you ever address me as more than a robot?"

Ford breath hitched, fumbling out, "Did I imagine a name for you?"

You nodded, eyes still glued to his answer.

"Well," He started, shyly smiling as he scratched his bright red cheek. "I thought [name] would be a perfect name to call you."

Gradually, a grin grew on your tingling lips, your stomach flopped in content. "[name]," Repeating it on your own tongue, absentmindedly nodding in expected approval.

"It's stupid, but -"

"No!" You protested his embarrassment, you leaned in closer and grabbed him in for a sturdy squeeze. "I love it." You sighed into his neck, his salt and pepper hair tickling your nose.

It was uplifting to know that's what he wanted to name you.

Chapter Text

Your creator did not limit you to search Gravity Falls after your first adventure, the very next day the twins were freshly recuperated and full of life you loved to mirror. Since, it was your first time going adventuring yesterday, Ford left you off the hook. You learned your lesson, and next time you'll be fully prepared. Gnomes won't bombard you next time you try to attempt such risks.

That next day, you came upstairs, running into the twins and in joy telling them your new name. They smiled in positive feedback, and you followed them into the kitchen with a skip in your step. Inside, you found your creator fixing the kitchens light bulb, the twins got closer to inspect with curiosity alongside Soos, all of them eyeing in fascination. You crossed your arms at watched in admiration.

“And we’re done!” He announced in joy, the light bulb illuminating the kitchen from the morning's dim sky.

Everyone, including you, cheered in Ford's triumphant.

“Is anyone seeing this? This is what a hero looks like right here!” Mable praised, pointing at Ford's smiling face, you chest fluttered at that look on his face. He locked eyes with you, you were about to open your mouth to comment -

“I thought we were out of lightbulbs?”

Everyone turned there head toward the open walkway to see Stan in red robe, holding a beat up box of light bulbs you only assumed he went out to buy.

“We were,” Ford stated. “So, I invented my own! It will last a thousand years and the light it will emit will make your skin softer!”

All at once, you all felt any open patch of skin and delightfully rubbed as it did make your skin softer. It was like touching a feather. You giggled as you made yourself ticklish, feeling for you cheeks to the nape of your throat and collarbone, Ford confidently gazed at you the entire time.

“Never have I known such softness.” Soos said.

“Anyway, where were you?” Ford asked.

Ford let you go with the kids, and Stan, to the Town Hall for a meeting about who would replace the now deceased mayor of Gravity Falls. It was nice to see different residence of this small, quaint town. But, the people certainly weren't the brightest bunch. Toward the end, it was no surprise that Stan had a huge interest running for the next mayor. Although now, he had to go against his enemy: Bud Gleeful. The twins filled me in on empty contexts, explaining he was the father of the child who tried to destroy their family and the Shack.

Essentially, the twins and I thought he couldn't do it. Knowing him for about a day, he lacked the experience and magnetism. Yet, when he explained how my creator had the potential to become famous, and what did he have to live for? Sure, he was a con-man, but, he seemed to be jealous and envious of my creator. I did sympathize with him. His uncomfortable expression when I would be around didn't slip by unnoticed. His bitterness toward his brother was alive and well, and since Ford created me, he would only see me as one of his successes, something Stan never had.

After a brief discussion, the twins and I decided to support Stan instead; maybe he did have the charisma, as long as it was fueled by dedication.

In a matter of hours, we got the twins close friends to help decorate the shack with positive campaign slogans. We went over our course of plan and what we will be expecting to happen at the elections. There wasn't a person in the room who blankly looked at Dipper with confusion after he read off the rules for the first debate.

Dipper meekly rolled up the stump speech rules, expression equal to ours. “I couldn't make this up if I wanted to.” He sighed.

Earlier, you all helped make speech cards for Stan, at the same time everyone printed and designed his campaign posters (even wore clothes with his name - buttons, shirts, hats, anything - Mabel was kind enough to make you a headband like hers, but finished off with a bow, she did your nails as well, you didn't see the point, but it was a cute gesture). You all decided those flashcards would be our backup plan if Stan's first radio interview goes exactly how we predicted it. And, it horribly does. Down to the polls and hilarious memes. You basically owe Mabel a dozen doughnuts for that bet. Obviously, these kids knew there uncle better than you do.

Stan was definitely hard headed. He didn't even take the speech cards we worked hard on, and believe that, they are ten times better than what he gave out to that failed interview. He wouldn't grab the speech cards either. Carefully, you swiped them out of Dipper's hands and nudged it into Stan's chest. He gave you an adhesive stare.

“You're gonna need these, trust us Stan.” You demanded, eyes glaring. “You're surely not going to meet the appeal of the voters with such a careless mindset.”

He took the cards, and for a second you all almost sighed in relief he might take your offer, but instead he shoved them in his coat pocket. “Look robo toots, I dont need anyones smart opinion how I should run my own candidacy.”

“I’m not ‘smart’, I’m only saying the truth, Stan. If you continue this way there's no way you’ll -”

“I can speak my mind when I please, Lady Bot.” He spat back, egoistically shooting a dark glare your way.

Without realizing, you said, “My name is [name]. Not Lady Bot.”

“Sure kid.” He sneered at you, hastily scoffing. “Hey, If I think in my head, ‘woah that's one ugly baby!’ then my mouth is gonna say, ‘woah Lady, you got one ugly baby!’”

Fearfully, we looked to each other; this is already looking troublesome.The kids groaned, complaining to everyone after Stan had went to his room about how he couldn't possibly make it through now, even at this point, he's stooping lower than his damn polls.

You put a quick hand to Dipper's shoulder, giving him a stern look. “Dip, I know who can help.”

Arms crossed over your chest, and naturally leaning back on the cool console next to Ford while he was flipping through his Journal in his chair, you watched with similar anxiety at Dipper pacing around the room restlessly, complaining about his Grunkle Ford and about the debate, “And, he's insisting on speaking his mind!”

Ford stopped in his tracks, brows knitting together. “This is an emergency.”

“The stump speech is in a couple of days, and he continues like this, we’ll lose to Bud for sure!”

That's when my creator revealed the pair of remote control ties that can control anyone who wears it. You nodded approvingly at his reveal of an older invention, he blushed timidly as you and Dipper examined it together.

“This is perfect, Ford! You’re amazing!” You cheered in contentment, twisting your arms around his shoulders for a brief embrace.

“Hah, not that hard hun, don't want to decrease my years up.” You let go, apologetically smiling, biting the inside of your cheek in silence at the way he called you ‘hun’.

“And, ethically ambiguous!” Dipper chimed. You heartedly laughed at his response.

At the same time, you and Dipper quickly thanked Ford and headed out.

“Thank you, Ford.” You happily saluted.

“Thank you Great Uncle Ford!”

Your lips formed a overblown grin as you heard him offhandedly reply behind you, “Yes, yes. Use it  responsibly and all.”

After showing it to Mabel, and testing it out abruptly on poor, scarred Soos, you knew this was a real remote control tie.

At the General Mayoral Stumpston Speeches, you all had the plan set and ready to execute at the exact moment Stan starts to talk negatively, basically when he spoke his absurd heart out at his speech.

Unsettlingly, you had to secure the tie under Stan’s shirt collar, he seemed annoyed when you were tall enough to his height to be able to do it. Mabel offered to do it before you all got here, but she forgot a footstool, which narrowed down to you having to do it.

Stan jeered, “Urgh, do I really have to wear this thing? It's like a flag threw up on me!”

“Suck it up, Mr. Pines.” You murmured threateningly in his ears. He made a noise that sounded close to a vicious growl deep in his throat.

Once finished tying it securely - and one last tight tug for fun - you bit the inside of your cheek, quickly side stepped to examine your work, and to be at an arm's length from sour Stan.

Mabel advised him, a wide grin plastered on her lips, her braces shining, “Grunkle Stan, just trust your lucky tie!”

The second Stan strutted out with overblown confidence and opened his highly opinionated mouth, we had to jump in. Mabel was having trouble and lost fire, then Dipper took over. You were on the edge of your toes, everything so far was pretty good for these little ones to think of for a Mayoral speech. When Mabel finished off with a final breakdance, you silently applauded the kids as Stan came from behind the curtain.

Mabel hugged Stan, praising him for his brilliant speech he barely remembered, saying he spoke from the heart or gut or something. The corner of your lips lifted upwards when he took in the applause from the audience and chanting his name, resulting in him being a smiling mess. He was proud of himself. Honestly, you were sorta happy for him.

“There he is!” Toby, the Gravity Falls reported called, pointing over to Stan. “Can we get a picture?”

You didn't needed to be told twice. You speedily huddled together for the front page picture, reciting the motto, “Yes we Stan!”

Chapter Text

For the next couple of days, all of the speeches have gone overall brilliant. Stan was in all the newspapers and the citizens of Gravity Falls duly respected him. Unintentionally, you never saw much of Ford, nights would end with you and the kids collapsing on the couch after coming up with manageable speeches. When you did have a window of opportunity to see him, you would be pulled by the kids to proof read Stan's dialogue. Weakly, you smiled and followed them suit, usually looking back in sorrow to the machine leading to the basement.

It would be nice to see him for a minute or two.

At greasy's diner (which you found out mornings made amazing coffee and pancakes), you all opted to tell Stan all of you disliked his new outfit and had to wear the suit and tie. You frowned at him when he spoke of the newfound appreciation everyone was giving him, and told you and the twins that you should do the same. You seriously wanted to slap that mouth shut. His ego was getting the best of him, he was too far down his own that self-pride.

Stan scoffed, “If you haven't noticed, everything that has come out of this golden mouth has put us on top! With or without your dumb advice!”

You were done.

“Dumb advice?!” You exclaimed, fists tight as you straightened up.

“Yeah,” He grunted, “Dumb advice!”

“Dammit, Stan!” Dipper yelled, pointing sharply at his uncle. “Everyone one of those speeches we were controlling you!”

You and Mabel looked at each other, eyes going wide; left hand flew to cover your mouth in shock.

“Dipper!” You both yelled back.

It alarmed you how full of fire Dipper was at that moment. You, definitely, but with Dipper that was different.

Dipper waved the tie mockingly in his uncle's face. “This is a mind control device, invented by Ford !” He opened the tie to show Stan the active chip inside. “If it wasn't for this tie, we’d be losing!”

Stan was angry, his brows furrowed, his tensed shoulders shaking. You knew that name Ford had ultimately set him spiraling. “Well, you can tell that know-it-all Ford he can keep his fancy light bulb and magic ties! I’m gonna win this debate on my own, without any of you!” And, he stormed off.

“Stan, wait, you can't!” Dipper called out, regretting his actions. “Oh, this is bad.”

Bud Gleeful had to be overthrown, you all knew that fact. You decided you need to find a new candidate to represent, someone entirely suggestible, get back at Stan and keep him from winning now that he won't take your help and support.

That's when Soos came tumbling out of the bathroom, tangled up in a sweater over his head. Mischievously, you all smiled wickedly at each other in a spontaneous plan.

The Final Debate of the Mayoral Elections had arrived. Originally, there should be only three candidates, then the news revealed the fourth, new runner, Soos.

Stan’s face was absolutely priceless as remote controlled Soos walked up spontaneously on stage, waving happily to the crowd. The twins were preoccupied to notice Stan looking behind the curtain and noticed you and them. Devilishly, you winked to him, his frown deepened, you angled your chin away with a grimace.

When the first question about the position of taxes came up, Stan answered terribly. Mable took charge of Soos with his answers of kittens in everyone's pots and they had a small, adorable quarrel. Tyler couldn't compete, and then Bud Gleeful started to dance and sing. You had to admit, it was a strange, hypnotic sight to behold. Afterward, they asked everyone to throw their bird seeds and Buds tub was the most filled, surprisingly.

The quick intermission started, and you and the twins were a little more than flabbergasted at the fact that Bud Gleeful is in the lead. Especially, with the way he's been oddly acting. You were sure that an older man wouldn't wear a colorful get up with glittery, tight pants and sing and dance to haul in the audience … although, it was Gravity Falls, you were use to some weird people by now.

Restlessly, Dipper paced around when he was thinking too hard. “We’re getting eaten alive back there! Since when has Bud been creepily adorable?” Dipper couldn't wrap his head around this issue, neither could we. There had to be much more to this event.

“I don't know,” Mabel exclaimed. “It doesn't make sense, it's almost like he's acting like -”

“ Widdle ol’ me .”

Alerted, you and the twins quickly whipped your heads around and the twins gasped. Your eyes grew at the controlled Bud Gleeful from the small digital device on his stomach. A small kid appeared on screen, with large hair and dressed in an orange jail jumpsuit, smiling wickedly.

“Hello there!” He greeted. “Long time no see! Except in my revenge fantasies where I see ya on an hourly basis.”

“Gideon!” Dipper shouted, his fists clutching. This … this was the Gideon Gleeful the Pines family hated so much? If it wasn't already obvious he was so widdle. How could a small kid like him try to pull such diabolical schemes? Nonetheless, the twins were frightened, and having to protect them at any costs was a main priority. “I knew you were somehow behind this! You’ve been behind all of this!” Pointing accusingly.

“And it seems like you’ve been controlling Stanford!” As he gestured, Buds movement mimicked his. This was different, a more extreme mind control device, and now you realized he was grotesquely devious. “I ‘ave to hand it to both of y’all, you've gotten much eviler since I last say ya.”

“I don't know who the hell you think you are, but you need to back away and stay away!” You demanded, standing defensively in front of the twins.

“Oh! And who's this new slice of pie?”

Slice of pie?

“I’m [name].” You growled, brushing off his intimidation. “And you won't get an inch near these kids, not by going past me first!”

“Pleasure meeting you sweet peach, but I ‘ave an act of revenge to fulfill. Ya made the stupid mistake of gettin in my way.” He immediately snapped his fingers. “Daddy.” He commanded.

Abruptly, you were massively shoved out of the way from the soulless eyes of Bud Gleeful, you punched him in the gut crudely, you even attempted to throw yourself on top of him as he snagged the kids in his thick grip.

“Let go of us!” Mabel kicked and screamed.

While trying to swing a few more punches, you accidently hit your hand on the monitor and left a feeble crack and a bruise on your knuckles. Noticing your mistake, Bud beat you to the ground once more with his ring hand, cutting your lip and you fell hard, the wind getting sucked out of your chest, defeated.

“S-stop!” You groaned between your teeth as your body ached, holding your swelling neck, and gathering up your strength you steadily lifted yourself up, tasting the blood on your tongue. Weakly, you watched as Bud took the twins up to the elevator shaft from the construction of the ex-Mayor's memorial head statue.

You had to be fucking kidding.

Acidly, you thought, there could be only one person who could help right now.

Gideon made the stupid mistake of not taking you up there too.

“And, uh, that's why the Statue of Liberty is our hottest landmark!” Everyone bitterly booed. “Okay, okay, she kinda mannish, what do you want me to say?!”

You couldn't believe he would ever think about being Mayor while answering these simple questions. Trying to compose yourself you stumbled near Stans podium, “Stan!”

He turned around, his eyebrows rose up at the battered sight of you, “Woah, kid, what happened?” He reluctantly walked closer and grabbed your shoulders as you missed a step getting up on stage. “Careful.” He warned.

Your pain was the least you should be worrying about. Shaking your head and inhaling, you looked up to him, surprised when your tone was as quiet as a whimper. Fuck, they really did knock the wind right out of you. “The twins, Stan, Gideon, he -”

“HEEELP!”

“Mabel, Dipper!” You yelled in shock.

“We’re tied to a bunch of fireworks!” Dipper said, his voice echoing loudly.

“HELP US!”

“What the -?!” Stan realized those panicked voices, and looked up to the sound.

“AHHH!” You heard both the twins screaming, followed by Tyler’s high pitched scream in horror as he pointed to the twins tied up in a chair, and suspended in the air by a mere rope. They were taken as hostages up in the ex-Mayor's nostril.

“KIDS!” Stan shouted, his grip on my shoulder tightened.

At that moment, you both could see the rope holding them up slowly ripping.

Stan gasped, losing his grip on you. The flashcards the you and the twins made fell from his hands, and you looked at them. Stan really did care about them, you stared at him in remarkable awe.

Rapidly, he looked to the crowd, “Listen everybody, this debate is over - I gotta go save my family!”

“Those? Oh, those are some demolition dummies!” Bud Gleeful stammered to everyone, waving his hands innocently. “Nothin to see ‘ere.”

Fresh adrenaline fueled through you and you marched up to Bud Gleeful and punched him as hard as you could square across the face. “Eat it!” You shouted. Everyone gasped in shock. It hurt so bad, but felt overall good.

Stan cheered, grinning, and coming over to securely pull you back from advancing any further, no matter how proudly smug he looked at your bold actions. “Hah! Yeah! Can it, Gleeful!” He growled loudly and ripped out his mic and ripped his shoulder sleeves of his suit. Woah, was that necessary? “Come with me, kid.” He called to you, yanking you to follow him suit.

You wondered how you both managed to sprint to life, grabbing and climbing up the high construction platform that leads straight to the kids.

Halfway up, you wanted to tell him there was an elevator, but, being physically fueled with adrenaline was good too. Plus, it was extraordinary to see Stan this extreme, it was both entertaining and sweet. Who knew he would act like a superhero in the moment his family was in trouble. Luckily, you had no problem catching up with him.

The citizens got really riled up and started to throw bird seeds at Stan, excitedly choosing his side for his quick bravery.

“Hey!” He yelled in alarm. “Thank you, but stop, stop it!” Swiftly, the eagles started to pick at him and the seeds and he deliberately punched the three of them all straight in the face. You were biting back a laugh, watching the eagles feathers fly about, and hurriedly moved your legs up to the top and waited for him to catch up.

“Come on!” You encouraged, you looked to the kids and the rope was getting thinner.

The distance between you and the kids were much too far away. Stan finally made it to you, standing closely.

“Stan, this is much too dangerous, there's no way we can -”

“You love Dipper and Mabel, right?”

“Wha -? Yes! Stan this isn't the time -”

“This is the time to tell yourself ‘don't turn your back on them’ like I made the mistake of doing!”

“Yeah, that was a cruel mistake hot-shot -”

“Shut up!” He yelled.

Suddenly, he grabbed your waist and placed you on top of his back. Instinctively, you held on tight, he took a quick breath and went for it, both of you screaming in anticipation, your heart was hammering at high volume. “STAN!” You screeching into his ear, you could tell from here that he wasn't gonna make it, maybe tagging along with him to save the twins wasn't the best plan in the heat of the moment.

His nails dug into the rock and caught hold to it tightly. His knuckles were turning white as he grunted to you to climb off. You did, and grabbed his arm, using all of your strength to get him up. You commanded to him, pushing him along and pointed to the twins. “Hurry! I'll see what I can do about the explosives!”

“You got it.” He nodded.

The very second the rope was on the last of its line, Stan's giant hands caught it in time before the twins fell.

“Grunkle Stan!” The twins happily cheered. You smiled as you heard them behind you.

Relieved, you looked around to see if there was any off switches or anything that could keep these explosives from going off at any moment. Touching them and everything might not be the most smart thing to do right now, but you knew that being up here was still unsafe.

Now worried, you parted from the bombs and paced over to the Pines family compassionate reunion.

“Kids! Look, I'm sorry I was being stubborn. I guess being the town's hero wasn't enough, I wanted to be your hero too.” He confessed wholeheartedly. You swear he was about to cry. But, Stan crying? Surreal.

“We’re sorry Grunkle Stan,” Mabel apologized. “We should have supported you, win or lose.”

Dipper offhandedly muttered, “Probably lose.”

Stan frowned, “I can still drop you ya know.”

He tenderly hugged them close to his chest. You helped him untie them and the twins came over to hug you too. Lovingly, you smiled and buried your face in their hair, causing them to giggle. They called you a cool Robot heroine. You let that pass, and patted them kindly on the head, telling them what they already knew: that their Uncle was the true hero.

You told Stan while climbing up the top of the nose that there was nothing to stop the bombs, they could possibly go off, but he wasn't worried as much as you were.

Emerging from the small entrance, you all waved down to the crowd and the news reporters knew that you were alright, together in one piece. Glancing at the Pines family's happy smile and to the crowd you looked ahead of them; that's when you froze in fear, Bud Gleeful held a donation button.

“Guys!”

They noticed his temper tantrum, large fists on the handle, ready to blast them. All of them were in shock, mouths agape in disbelief.

“Oh no! We have to get out of here!” Dipper instructed.

Stan straightened his shoulders. “Kids,” He said in a sincere, deep tone, looking down at them with seriousness. “If I die, make sure I get a bigger tombstone than Stanford,” The twins brows furrowed, and nodded in acknowledgement. He glanced once over to you, “No offense, toots.”

You shrugged.

He snatched Mabel and you captured firmly for Dipper, he clutched onto your shirt, and simultaneously you both jumped off as you heard the enormous, loud blast from behind. Screaming, you all looked down in fear as you got closer and closer to the bottom, feeling the heated flames itching behind; in mid air, you were pushed adjacent to Stan. When you hit the bottom, you fell loudly but soft into a large pile of bird seeds. Groaning, you realized Stan was above you, and pushed him off with a disgusted tone. He was heavy.

The burning rubble and rocks from what's left of the ex-Mayor's memorial statue aimed toward the crowd and they all ran for cover.

The timer had gone off, signaling the end of the debate, releasing the legendary Mayor Pickin’ Eagle. He screeched, stretching out his large wings. Majestically, he flew high above, everyone gasping and pointing. The eagle landed on top of the unmoving Dipper, his hat embalming his neutral face.

The eagle puckered its peak and kissed Stan on his temple.

The ex-Mayor's statue was half destroyed and continued to burn. Stan lifted the twins up from the bird seeds. After dusting himself off, he offered you a hand and you took it with a quirked smile. Stan wasn't so bad after all. “Thanks.”

He awkwardly adjusted his fez, and looked to the crowd. He was nervous alright, I mean, how would a whole town react like when their ex-Mayor's statue got blown up because of their new Mayor?

“... Mayor Pines! Mayor Pines! Mayor Pines!” The crowd happily hollered.

Stan smiled, hands at his hips, his stature one of poise and assurance.

“Well, I guess now we know who won.” Dipper announced in delight and accomplishment. Mabel grabbed Stan's hand with appreciation, sweetly smiling up at him, he fondly looked at her.

Stanley Pines was the new Mayor of Gravity Falls, who knew?

Chapter Text

“And then BOOM,” You exclaimed, “The bomb went off and Stan saved the twins!” You laughed while telling Ford about the election week.

In the end however, Stan was disqualified for his criminal record later that same day. Ironic.

You came to visit Ford to tell him all of this, as the rest of the Pines family went for some bonding time, planning to vandalize Mayor Tyler's mansion. You skipped out, you craved to see you beloved creator after a whole week of being gone. Although, you wanted to pinch yourself because in that entire week you ached every second to see him, talk with him; it's like you were obsessed. Which, you're not, you know you aren't. Completely arent.

Ford looked at you, his expression bothersome. “You could've been hurt, [name].” Secretly, you loved when he said your name, but not so much when it was in such an apprehensive tone. He was always now worried for you since the first time venturing with the twins in Gravity Falls. You didn't understand it, he was the one that study this strange town in the first place, and Dipper showed you pages beyond pages of Ford's research in detail and he went through hell and back for that information.

“I’m fine now! Look, I think this is going to be a cool scar on my lip, right where Bud punched me.” You covered your mouth quickly after revealing that fact you were meant to keep that hidden from your creator, if he didn't notice a second ago, he did already. Now, his frown hollowed.

“I noticed.” He said, voice flat. Your excitement inflated.

Oh no.

“It's over and done with. Everything is okay now.” Flimsy assuring him.

His spirits did not lift. He rubbed the back of his neck, “I knew the kids got into reckless adventures, but not like this.”

“The bomb wasn't their fault! It was that little cockroach Gideon Gleeful!” You snorted, waving carelessly, “But we beat him, nonetheless. Minus loosing.”

“You're lucky you weren't in a worse situation.”

He wasn't listening to anything you had to say now.

You exhaled softly, folding your arms close to your chest. “Ford, you told me to go out and be myself, and I am! Im grateful you gave me will. I’m having such a spectacular time getting to know your family and their friends.”

Ford stayed silent, unmoving.

“Ford?” You called faintly, reaching your hand up toward him, timid. “I’m sorry if I made you worry.”

He exhaled as well, but with a slight roughness. “It's not that.”

Your warm hand made it to his broad, tense shoulder. He looked up into your eyes, you noticed now how exhausted he seemed. “Then, what is this about?”

“…”

His lips were thin and firm. He gradually mirrored your advances and rested his large hand over your pink cheek, his fingers delicately stroking comfortably. Breath hitching, your chest fluttered fiercely. “Oh, It's not that.” He repeated, his voice was so quiet you lent in. “Its …”

Calmly, he smoothly leaned in, his hot breath hit your face and both his hands were now tenderly gripping your frame. He was leisurely ushering you near to his own face. “Ford?...”

His eyes were closed, everything was moving slowly in time. You could see the dusted blush upon his cheeks and the indisputable restraint he had on your face. His lips now weren't disapproving, they were serne, wanting. He wanted to kiss you. Naturally, you knew because you watched those couples in romance movies with Mabel; honestly, they weren't that bad, even the werewolf one was okay.

“ Ford ,” You hummed, your breaths mingling once your lips were inches from touching.

Something sparked from you and you gripped him in, knuckles clamped around his turtleneck solidly, forcing him in. Closing the crucial gap, your lips collided, and you sighed pleasantly into it.

It was electrifying. The way your lips elevated in sync and adapted wholly together emitted a moan from you. A strange sensation at the bottom of your stomach began to burn. His six fingers dug into your hair, and he used it to sparse increasing physical intimacy. You both abundantly desired each other. The small groans he liberated were music to your ears, he was adoring this too, you were satisfied it just wasn't simply you. You were ecstatic that you weren't the only one who detected your require to kiss Stanford Pines like theres no tomorrow.

Now you understood why your chest fluttered.

Everything was exploding like the fireworks at the end of the debate. It was addictive and breathtaking.

This was your first kiss. Your creator was kissing you, and you invited it. You had a revelation that this was long overdue, how you long gone without it. There was no one else on your mind who you would admittedly say would take that first kiss. He was a hundred times stimulating than having fresh coffee at greasy diner after pulling the all nighters this week.

Teasingly, he nipped down from you lips, cheek, chin and trailed to your exposed neck and left wet kisses, stirring an eager moan, identifying that your neck was sensitive.

“Mine.”

He was far too quiet. Straining to hear him, you urged with a small laugh, “What?”

“ Mine .” He gritted between his teeth, boldly biting down on your skin and sucked it, flicking his tongue over the new bruise, matching with the ones from earlier today; you winced. He dragged you to the bed at the corner of the room. His hands became erratic and disheveled. He shifted down to the hem of your shirt, greedily pulling up the material.

“Wait, Ford,” You protested, trying to shove his hands away. This was far from your comfort zone, and he was going over that line. You didn't understand what he wanted, or why he was strangely like this to you. “F-ford - Stop!”

He blinked, stopping and flickered to your glossy eyes, face red from ear to ear. Those eyes were full of distress, your dismayed expression hit him. Embarrassingly, he scanned his lusted craze aftermath, noticing you were bare chested to him; his nail-marks on your chest, rising and falling with a slight quiver of breath.

“I … I'm sorry.” He stuttered, With mellow hands, he pulled your shirt down, your eyes looking down as he generously lifting you up from the bed. Your hands stayed at your side, trembling a bit. “You … you can leave if you’d like,” He offered, regretful of his aggressive actions.

You shook your head, and bolted upstairs, not considering to glance back.

Chapter Text

Sighing, you collapse on the living room couch, peeling off your sweaty socks of the day. Stan is there lounging, a beer in one hand and a terrible movie in front of him; from the way his eyes were droopy and far off, you could only guess it to be a terrible movie.

“Where's the kids?” You inquired lowly. You hoped Stan wouldn't notice your puffy eyes after coming out of the bathroom down the hall, and hogging it for ten minutes, muffling the cries the whole time. Carefully, you curled your legs up and rested your chin on them.

Cursing at yourself, you wanted to forget what current events happened less than a half an hour ago. You’ll ponder about it later - try to comprehend what the hell happened to Ford in that moment.

Honestly, you wished for a mental and emotional interlude.

“They went to bed early,” He answered, sipping the rest of the can. “Guess trying to support my jerk ass all week tuckered them out.”

“You know, Stan,” You chuckled. He glanced to you, then redirected his tired eyes back to the bright television screen.

“Yeah, what?”

“It's weird to hear you curse when the kids aren't about.”

He grumbled, smirk on the corner of his lips, “Don't you too?”

“Yeah, I do. But, like you, I kept that obscene language from the kids. Right now, I just need to let out that kind of language.”

“Ford programmed you right, kid.” That name made your smile vanish and becoming interested of the view of  your toes. “What happened?” He genuinely asked. Startled, you shot him a stare. He was watching you intensely, it aggravated you a little and you felt those repressed feelings from before.

Breaking your sudden mute, you whispered, “Why does males have to be fucking complicated?”

Stan laughed a loud, slamming an open palm gingerly to my back. “Damn, kid! Now you're starting to sound like Mabel! Minus the f-bomb.”

That earned a giggle from you, Stan smiled at that. “I’m serious, though.”

“I know you are, usually you are.” He nonchalantly reveal his box of beer from the corner of the couch on his side. “Crap, how old are you again?”

“Never stated.” You admit. “Damn, I don't know, my creator never gave me one, nor a name till a few days ago.”

“Creator.” He mocked, grabbing a can and throwing you one, catching it in time before it hit your bare toes, “Don't say stuff like that outside the house, toots. People who have the same mindset as me might get the wrong dealy-o.”

“Wrong interpretation?” You wondered, opening the can, but not drinking it yet; you enjoyed how cold it felt between your warm fingers. Almost soothing.

“Ya know, kinky for example,” He mumbled, a light blush on his cheek.

“Kinky...?”

“Geez, kid, didnt Ford program you correctly?” Then, he answered it himself with a snicker. “Of course he did, just not in that field his physically a genius with. Not surprised I gotta say. He often was awkward with girls he liked.”

Your heart ached at that revelation. “Ford, had other girls?”

Seeing your drifting eyes, Stan knew. “Wow, you're in for him deep arent ya?”

Quirking a brow, you replied, “Deep? You mean to say I like Ford?” Having very subtle hints like that isn't new, those movies you watched with Mabel help a lot for you apparently.

“Whatever you want, kiddo.” He gulped his beer, forcing yourself too as well. Your tongue took an experimental taste, and your face scrunched. Yikes. “Like, love, lust. Whatever. Only as long as you know you definitely have feelings that won't stop fucking bugging you at the start. Hopefully, ya get what I'm blabbering about?”

Steadily, you nodded, eyebrows raising. “I think I do understand. Sort of like, getting butterflies in your stomach when they look at you or touch you. And, always wanting to hear their voice, barely getting enough of it really … how you probably won't get tired with seeing them or … won't get tired of them smiling, specially when you are responsible for it. All that makes you feel wonderful.” You didn't register the tears streaking down your hot cheek. “How you … hate feeling incomplete without them around.”

Sniffling, you were taken aback at your confidential confession and wiped away the tears messily. Stan snagged the can out of your hand and replaced it with a tissue.

“Thanks.” You covered your face, flustered. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you…?”

“In love with Ford?” You dried the tears, and flailed your arms up, defeated. “I believe I am!” And, you believed that Stan unintentionally broke and tore through your emotional and metal interlude you wanted; for bad or worse. It happened.

Stan shook his head mirthfully, “No, toots I mean, I was gonna ask why you were so emotional. Are you PMSing? Cause, I could understand why this is all happening.”

“PMS? What's that?” You asked, an expression of pure confusion on your flushed face.

“Oookay. Not gonna touch that subject with a thirty foot pole!” He clicked his tongue, “Ask Ford when you get cramps. If ya do get cramps, I make a neat chocolate smoothie that soothes that.”

“Cramps? From what?”

“PMS - oh fuck it, never mind.” He groaned, cheeks pink. “Anyway, you're in love with my nerdy brother, right?”

“What's being nerdy got to do with him?” Lips in a pout.

“ Everything .” He insured.

“I suppose he isn't that most easiest person to deal with?” You beckoned him to hand you the beer back, and he handed it. You were about to grasp it, then he lent it back. “Hey!”

Stan snickered, “Aw. Kidding, here,” He handed it and I took a generous sip.

He gave you a moment to finish off the can. Sighing, your attention was back to him.

“He’s the definition of blockhead, trust me.”

Silence loomed over you, and you distractively tapped your knee. Then, facing him, you voice got low. “Stan, I know you two don't have the best relationship, but do you mind giving me the rundown about him?”

Stan thought for a moment, a little hesitant. “Well,” He muttered, suddenly he looked me square in the eyes. “Unless…”

You quirked a brow, rapid eyes looking him over. “Yeah?”

“I’ll can tell you over a chocolate smoothie.” He offered, smiling widely. “Come on, to the kitchen! I’m craving it and I don't care if you're not on shark week, hun.”

Chapter Text

Over a cup of extraordinarily smooth and silky chocolate smoothies, Stan basically ranted about his older twin (by 15 seconds, Stan said) and grieved about how he didn't mean to ruin his opportunity of a better life for him, a better education, and a high chance at world wide successful achievements. And, how his dad kicked him out for ruining such a destiny to be potentially fulfilled. You knew that part particularly well, mainly because Ford was a bit introverted to reveal it to you.

But, you wanted to explain to Stan that Ford didn't think that fame was everything, and how you remembered how he expressed his high regards for his own inventions over the decades and the creation of you. Recalling the touch, your skin warmed, a tiny smiled played on your face, but you wiped it away. He stayed silent, you allowed him to grip his words and emotions.

“We wanted to build a boat, ya know.” He chortled sadly. “That's why I ruined his future, I wanted us to have a future.”

“You two were really close, right?” You took a small sip, staring at him in thought. “The way you regret the decisions you made. You forgive him for even thinking of parting futures, but you don't know if he will ever forgive you.”

“That's just it! I protected him from bullies all our lives, gave him every inch of support our parents didn't give, and how does he repay our relationship? Punching me in the face, after I spent 30 years of my crummy life getting him back, learning everything there was to know about science babble - I picked up a book for that guy! Some brother he turned out to be.”

Grinning, you sighed. “Twins ... yet, you two are polar opposites in perspective.”

He casually pulled at his suit. “Yeah, he likes nerdy shit and I love the business of money, kid.”

He shed off the rest of his suit and loosened his tie, unbuttoning the top of his white dress shirt. You inspected his gold medallion peeking underneath it, and some wild, grey chest hair. You debated whether Ford had some too, they were brothers, twins! So … why not? Feeling the heat on your cheeks, you subtly coughed that dirty thought far away and nodded at Stan's statement.

“True.”

“But, I love my family more.” He said.

“I know that.”

“Do anythin for them, sacrifice myself if I have to.”

“... And, what happened with the boat?” You whispered.

He mumbled under his rough breath. “Gone. It was abandoned when he decided to give a go at life, other than sailing with me. When your kids, having to do whatever you dreamed of wasn't so far out of reach, not without having support like that. We needed each other and we could fly off to space if we wanted to.”

“What if he does still care about the boat?” You said, looking down at your cup in your palms.

“I wouldn't care, really. I would want him to know that I still love him, and to appreciate what I've been through for him.” He shook his head, gloomy eyes flickering to you. “I want to be like we used to: two idiots discovering the world together.”

“Stan, I’m sorry.”

He scratched near his eyes, and rapidly blinked. “Don't be, kid.”

“You're a nice man. After you saved the twins, and put an emotional river of angst as I did earlier to you, I think that says alot. You care .” Winking, you stood up to place your empty cup in the sink.

“Fords lucky to have a person like you around,” He smirked and laughed. “I saw the way he looked at ya when he first introduced us to you, asked him whether he would hit that or not.”

You stopped in your tracks, “Hit what? Hit me?” You stuttered.

He shrugged. “Ya know, have sex.”

You unintentionally squinted your eyes in confusion at him, never having the word in your memory before by definition. “S...sex …?”

“Oh shit.” He spat. “Now I have to give ya the talk about the birds and the bees.”

Now, you were immensely stumped. “What do the birds and the bees have to do with ‘sex’?”

Stan brows furrowed, “Wow. Didn't know that sounded weird coming out of your mouth just now fuck, you're too innocent.” Stan inwardly groaned, “Well, if I didn't give you the PMS talk, might as well spill about that .”

You returned to your seat, and subconsciously folded your hands on top of the table, waiting for his response. Noticing, Stan was slightly jittery about the meaning of the word, yet it caught you off guard. You basically anticipated the answer to this word that had Stan squeamish.

“Ya see, I haven't explained this on the girly side about the birds and the bees. Explained it to Dipper,” He cleared his throat, and adjusted his rigid self to try and become comfortable. “So you see, when two people, really really have the hots for each other, they express it through their … bodies,”

“Through their bodies,” You thought to yourself. “Like when I hug Ford? Is that considered sex?”

Stan blinked, “Um, in a way it is. But, it's more … intimate?”

“Isn't a hug already intimate?”

“When I mean that, I mean that you don't have any clothes on.”

You scrunched your nose. “No clothes?”

“You’re basically naked together.” Stan reverted his eyes from you, his cheek flushed a bright pink. “And, you make each other feel really good.”

“So, it's a naked hug?”

Stan ran a large nervous hand through his grey hair, aggravated with you. “Sorta, more in, er a sexual way; wanting close, skin-skin contact, and heated contact with the person you're in love with.”

Something clicked. The strange way Ford was acting a while back, and how outlandish his behavior was towards you, you didn't completely understand that need; he was nearly animalistic, possessive it was almost scary. Although, now you do. He didn't wish to cause you harm, it wasn't suppose to be negative.

“Wait, those moments where I felt like my heart was beating too fast, and I was getting strange sensations from Ford specifically, was that sexual?”

“Sexual attraction, ya.” He winked at me. “And, you said you'd didnt get it.”

“I didn't! I just now know that all this time I've been wanting to have the sex with Ford!”

“Yesh, don't get excited.” Stan warned. “Don't wanna clean the chair, so stop.”

“Stan. I care so much about your brother, admitted I was in love with him as well. Now, you told me that someone in love expresses it naked with somebody else who loves them, resulting in the sex. Which means, I need the sex with Ford!” You banged both your hands on the table, and stood up, erratic. “I need to have the sex with him now. Excuse me Sta -”

“Wait, kid!” Stan grabbed your wrists, pulling you back and facing his large stature as he got up abruptly from the chair.

“Stan! I need to show Ford that I love him, didn't you just say that this was the best method?”

“Yes, but don't go into it so fast, because …”

You frowned, pushing your hand away and gripping it by your side. “But what?”

His face was stern, eyes sharp. “Does he love you?”

“I’m sure he does! You’ve noticed, right?”

“Yes, but how do you know he's in love with you? Does he truly love you? You can have fun with someone, have a one-night stand I know - oh come on do give me those eyes sweetie,”

“I’m sorry, it's just … I know he does now!” You blurted, rubbing your eyes, blinking them back from tears.

Stan was being much too protective, although you didn't seem to mind whatsoever with his sympathy and concern for you at the moment. If you didn't see it now, he was treating you like a little sister. You can tell by the way his eyes peer into yours, it's has that familiar thoughtfulness when Dipper helped sooth Mabel with her stomach after eating too many Smiledip (you wondered why she ate it in the first place. 1. It was decades old 2. Dipper told you they were banned from this country - after seeing her extreme sugar rush high that afternoon you can suspect why). It was nice that he actually cared about your feelings. He really has changed since you first met him. Warmed up to you.

Stan head cocked to the side, chewing his bottom lip in thought. “How? Has he … oh .”

“Um, you can put it that way.” You answered with a shy smile, choking out an abashed laugh.

“I shouldn't be nosy … how long ago?” He asked in a curious tone, eyes full of astonishment.

“Well … before I joined you on the couch earlier,” You said, looking down at your cold feet in embarrassment; cheeks flaming hot.

A low rumble came from Stan. “I teased him about hitting you up, but … I didn't think he actually would! I'm surprised.”

“Hit me up - oh yeah, the sex. No, he didn't do that entirely.” You confessed, biting the inside of your cheek. “He attempted it, I stopped it.”

“You stopped it? I thought ya liked him?”

“No! Wait - I mean yes , I do! Its because … that was before I knew about the sex with someone you love. And, you made me realize that's what he was trying to show me. He wanted that with me, and I pulled away because I didn't know. I was scared about what he was doing to me.”

Stan froze. “What did he do?”

You clenched your hands, you weren't expecting that sort of blunt question from him at all. You gulped, and inhaled. How can you say what happened? It was startling back then, but now you just wanted to go run to Ford, be with him. Everything you wanted to do right now than stand in front of Stan is to kiss Ford, hold him close, embrace that burning warmth he gives you. Maybe, let him touch you like before. Although, Stan wanted answers, and you struggled to withhold those urges right now.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn't realize if you were comfortable with -”

“He called me ‘his’.”

Abrupt silence followed.

Stan scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Er, didn't know he was kinky too.”

“Kinky?” You said under your breath, even more confused by that words term. Stan kept saying it, and hasn't explained, leaving you in the dark.

“Nevermind, you’ll learn a lot when it's the right time, hun.” He waved offhandedly, you nodded in return. You didn't realize there was many involvement and terms ensued with the sex. Silently, you wished to know more.

“And … he was slightly rough as well -”

“Rough?” He exclaimed. “Did he hurt you?”

You shook your head rapidly, “No! He was strong, but honestly nothing like an assault, only possessive .”

“You're telling me he almost touched you without you realizing what he was doing in the first place?”

“I suppose. It wasn't ‘almost touched’,” You blushed. You carefully lifted the bottom of your shirt up, but not all of it, casually gesturing what you were referring to. “He lifted my shirt. His hands were -”

“I get the picture!” Stan interrupted, his cheeks pink. “Okay, since you basically steered clear of him after he did that, you might wanna give him space.”

“Give him space … I see. You're right, he looked emotionally compromised when I pushed his advances away. Upset overall.”

“He probably thought you were one fine bot and he couldn't help it, his feelings were too much for him to keep inside.”

“Right. He did love me this whole time, more than a creator should.” You sighed in relief, confident in revealing everything to Ford when you see him again.

Chapter Text

You took your sweet time and let Ford have his space. To keep you distracted, and not too deeply get lost within your thoughts; the negative ones seemed the most reoccurring for you, so you spent more time with the Pines family. Sure, you knew that Ford loved you and you were in love with him. However, he made no efforts to see you since that night. Slowly, you consulted Stan again and he informed you to not worry like he mentioned before, and that Ford had to think about what he did to you too; come to terms of what he did and what he will have to face in order to get you back. Stan was your rock, and you needed to take his word on these things.

In the meantime, you would happily go on adventures with Dipper and Mabel, guarding them on their quests to find the most strangest beings.

You enjoyed all the time you had with them, even if both the twins didn't know why you were mysterious glum nowadays, they tried their best to cheer you up anyway they can. And, you smiled brightly and amiably at them. You didn't know what you would do without them.

At the moment, you were both hunting for the Mushroom of Truth. This glowing purple, white spotted mushroom could make someone tell the truth, as long as it was in their body system, resulting in it lasting possibly hours. The physical appearance when lasting too long in your body would result in giving the person bright purple freckles all over their cheeks; and, giving the intense feeling as if you're intoxicated, apparently. Dipper told you about how their Grunkle Stan had to suffer through Mabel's wish for him to always tell the truth, and found gold-teeth that made him tell the truth. Basically it was all a disaster.

Yet, with this, they weren't too worried about it. They wanted to only put very small amounts in their friends drinks or cupcakes or whatever and watch the magic happen. You simply shrugged at their prank, kids will be kids. Plus, you did find it somewhat entertaining to see what other people's true natures were like.

The place keeping hold of these hundreds of mushrooms was like being in an entirely different realm. The grass was glowing a bright blue, and there was dangling yellow lights from the willow trees surrounding the area. There was rocks, and small rivers streaming across the land. And, your eyes fell upon the bright purple mushrooms, each in their own pile. They were beautiful, pleasantly shining its magnificent colors along the grass. You all separated and gathered your own amount.

Also, the mushroom was also highly prone to travel through the nasal passage and effect you like that too, rather than consumption. So, you all had to wear these white masks and hoped for the best when you plucked them gingerly from the ground and into the double ziplock bag and into Dippers backpack. You all wiped away any of the residue with hand sanitizer, the glittery, fruity kind that Mabel loves. It's dumb you know, you all should've brought gloves instead for such risky business.

On your way back, you didn't realize that your shoe wasn't properly laced, and tripped unexpectedly over it and into the grass, making the mushrooms around your body transform into a cloudy puff of purple smoke.

“[name] you okay?” Mabel yelled, both her and Dipper picking you back up onto your feet, you silently cursed to your right shoe. You pouted to them, you were definitely going to switch them with flats similar to what Mabel wears later. At least you don't have to lace those.

“I'm okay, thank you guys.” You said, waving your hand across your face to push the smoke away. “What a close one, huh?”

“Uh, where's your mask?” Mabel muttered quickly, looking down and around to find it.

“My - my mask is off?” You shrieked, covering your lips and nose with both of your hands, eyes wide in shock. “Ohmygosh.” You mumbled between your fingers. This can't be happening. Why did you have to be so idiotic and trip like that?

“Okay wait, you already breathed the stuff in, like a lot!” Dipper informed frantically, trying to be calm, but only worrying much more. “Do you feel any different?”

Your eyebrows knitted and you tried to close yours eyes and think. You nodded your head, no, you felt exactly like you did moments before you fell, only now more agitated.

“If it's a lot,” You mumbled. “Do you see the freckle on my face yet?”

“Get closer,” Mabel gestured, getting on her tippy toes to examine your face clearly as you bent over. “Woah! She does, Dipper! It was a lot, and it's been inside of her for a long time by now! We gotta get back to the Shack and put duct tape over her mouth so she wont say something she’ll regret.”

You never get tired of being surprised by Mabel Pines.

“And, then, get this,” You giggled under your breath. “Stan made me a milkshake, the BEST one I’ve ever had, and haha well it WAS my first one, but it would very well out do all the rest to come, ya know? Did you munchkins have some? No? Its awesome.”

You couldn't find a way from all of these thoughts spilling from your mouth from your clustered brain. It was a cluster. You couldn't think properly, everything was scattered, and you didn't want these things that happened to your over the last weeks to come back flying horribly back and ricocheting onto your sensitive feelings currently and the twins precious ears - they weren't for the kids ears. But, you couldn't stop. And you wanted to slap yourself for saying them. Give yourself one good, hard slap!

The kids were dragging you, basically. You had a hard time staying up on your two feet. You got so bad that you kicked of your feet, because you didn't want to tie the lace from that fucking shoe that caused this in the first place, and you spat on it and called it a demon and left them miles behind. Now, you were shoe-less. You felt so bad for not having such complete control of it at this time. That was it. You weren't in control. It felt unbelievably insane! You didn't feel like yourself, you hated what was happening.

“And, PMSing? What is THAT? That jerk never explained!”

“Grunkle Stan!” Mabel shouted, Dipper opening the shack of the door. “Help, we need duct tape! And make it snappy please!”

“Hey, Mabel, I love your hair. Wish I had hair like that, it's so brown and curly.” You said, stroking and patting the top of her hair. “It smells like strawberries! Good little girl.”

“Okay, what's going on?” Stan asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Woah, your hair looks like a damaged birds nest, Stan!” You laughed, holding in the chuckles that wanted so much to escape your throat. In the end, they ended up loud and continuous. Everything seemed funny right now.

Dipper said quickly, “We went to find some strange mushrooms and [name] sniffed a lot of its properties and its in her system and its was a lot so now she’ll be like this for hours.”

“Wait,” Stan groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “She sniffed what? A mushroom?”

“It lets somebody tell the truth, or what they're thinking.” Mabel added, letting you sit messily on a nearby chair as you hiccuped.

“So it's like ... drugs …?” Stan furrowed, crossing his arms, grabbing hold of your face.

He lifted a chubby finger to the front of your face, commanding you to look at it, but you couldn't. Your eyes wouldn't sit still for a second. You wanted to move, dance around, but your legs were like jello. “Stan, you have five fingers.” You hummed gingerly. “Ford has six. I like six. Is six a number? I like that number. I like Ford. Ford equals love. Love, love.”

“I knew it!” Mabel commented. Dipped shushed her.

“More like if you drink that beer stuff you have. Like, the whole pack you had one time,”

Mabel chimed up offhandedly, “Yeah, you were hilarious Grunkle Stan, you made us run the shop for the whole day! I even got myself stuck in that mermaid tail and flopped in pain in front of the audience. Then, I coughed up glitter on them that fell from the ceiling. That was fun.”

“You know when it makes you sluggy and out of it? That.” Dipper explained, putting his backpack down and opening the Journal. The drawings and notes were Fords, it secretly made your heart ache. You sucked the inside of your cheek, avoiding your stupid mouth from saying anything. It was horrendously difficult.

“Geez, I get it now. She’s drunk.”

“I'm not drunk,” You protested, lightly slapping a sweaty palm to his cheek. “You are! Oh, you have soft wrinkles.”

Stan rolled his eyes, “Any side effects, kid?”

“Just purple freckles from breathing in too much, and you need to wait it out for it to go away.”

“And, the aftermath?”

“Nothing too bad,” Dipper looked back into his journal, skimming it. “Let's see … you get a bad -”

“- headache. That's obvious. Poor kid.” Stan chuckled, flicking your nose comically. You complained and stuck your tongue at him. “Why are you guys messing with this kind of stuff?”

Mabel nervously giggled, “Just to prank our friends, we were only gonna use a tiiiny pinch on them, we swear.”

“-And [name] has an unfortunate amount of it.”

Everyone's heads rapidly turned to the new voice within the frantic conversation. It was Stanford.

“Ford,” Your breath hitched. Your body had not settled but your mind somewhat. You used any mental strength to not say anything more, and you bit your lip hard.

“I see you kids are messing with the Mushroom of Truth? Not fun for even me when I was researching it back in the day.” Ford quirked a brow, and walked up to Dipper. You eyes flared, annoyed as he did not register your presence in the corner with Mabel.

“My shoes were evil and I inhaled too much.” You said to Ford, wanting his attention, and he looked at you nervously. Ford wasn't so easy to please at the moment. You wanted him to come to you on his own time the last few weeks. Its bothering you, and clearly it's bothering him. Was he bothered by you? Did he not mean it when he kissed you? Did he regret it? He did. He must’ve been ashamed. Ashamed of what?

Stop.

You have to stop thinking.

“Yes. Sadly, I have no quick cure for this. We just have to wait till it passes.” He put his hands behind his back, then unexpectedly moving toward your direction, you tensed up.

You missed you creator. Admittedly, you wanted to grab him by the collar of his dumb, sexy trench coat, cute as fucking hell turtleneck, and smother him with kisses; confess everything essentially. Although, you would feel utterly guilty craving to make out with Ford in front of your family. Oh … yeah, they were like your family. Your pleasant thoughts distracted you from noticing Ford grabbing your chin gently with his hand, reeling you in to exam your face with his pretty, brown eyes. His smell was amazing, it was refreshing and vivid; your chest thumped in your ears, it aggravated you that everyone could probably hear it.

It did strike you as odd how there was dark circles under those striking eyes. You weren't sure if you saw that exactly, because he dropped his head down. Maybe it was your imagination. You are drunk.

Gulping, you slurred not so quietly, “Hi.”

“Hello, [name].” He replied distantly. Suddenly, he was gone, pulling hastily away from you and walked past Stan.

“Watch her, will you? I’ll try and figure out if there is a way to ease all of this mess.” Ford asked, and disappeared behind the machine. Stan huffed.

You wanted to run after him, but you knew you couldn't. He was still guilty about that night.

“He hates me.” You said, disappointed. Tired - surprisingly - you ran your fingers through your hair. “It's been weeks, Stan, and he's still -”

“Hey, kid, don't beat yourself up. It's not you, it's him.”

“I know it is, but it's taken forever, almost. He’s ashamed and now wont even spent 3 seconds breathing the same air as me!” You exhaled loudly. “Males are complicated. Why does an adorable creator gotta be so hard to talk to? I need to strap him down and demand an explanation!”

“You said it, sis!” Mabel, patted your shoulder, easing a little of your tense muscles, and upset emotions.

“Kinky.” Stan added. Was he serious right now? Honestly. You were in a turmoil heartache right now and his easley and perverted comments weren't helping, no matter how drunk you were. You glared at him. “Thanks, Mabel.” You replied softly to her.

“How about a sleepover? You’ll feel so much better!” Mabel suggested, pulling at your arm.

“I'm still drunk, Mabs. I felt like maybe some wore off when my creator barged through the door with his sexy, cool coat and then served me a cold shoulder. Maybe. The use of that word, in and out of my mind, is overused.”

He shrugged. “I’ll take care of her, kids. It's a slow day, I’ll close up shop early. It's gettin dark, get to bed.” Stan grumbled, picking you up from the chair, and holding you by the shoulders, leading you messily to the living room. “Come with me, and don't puke on my floor.”

“Stan, you bastard. I'm not queasy, I'm just not ‘in control’ of myself.” You hiccuped, using air quotes for emphasis.

“Sit here,” He ordered, placing you down on the couch. “You need anything?”

“Yes! I seriously want more of that chocolate milkshake! You know what I mean, it was good, please!”

Stan finally cracked his cold face, smirking. “We're out of ice cream, sorry hun.”

You flailed your hands up. “Fuck. It's fine, I think I want water. No. Wait. Yes, yes water please. Thanks Stan.”

“Sure,” He walked out and came back to the living room and handed you a bottled water.

You beamed, wiggling your toes and began to pluck your socks off. You personally hated these things. “Thanks. You're great. Your are not a bastard, I just said that in the spur of shit.”

“It's fine,” He said, grabbing for the remote and flipping through different channels. “Water is suppose to help when you're drunk, but it's funny when this is different than a regular one. Those strange freckles suit you.”

You closed your eyes. You felt hot, as if you wanted to badly sweat and feel a sweet rush of cold air all over your sticky skin. “They're purple.” You giggled, carefully pulling off your shirt to unveil your light tank top underneath. Sighing, in relief you tossed it carelessly at the TV, followed by a fit of laughter.

“You alright there?” Stan chuckled, stopping as he watched you fan yourself with your flimsy hand. He noticed this was the first time he's seen you with limited article of clothing.

“Really hot. I need wind!”

“You need water, drunk up kid.”

“Okay,” You bit your lip and took a sip, eyeing Stan at the corner of your eye and popped it out. “You're thirsty!” You blurted as you streamed Stan with the water over his wifebeater.

“Hey!” He yelled in surprise. “Not funny.”

You curled your toes in excitement. “I got you!”

Stan’s eyes narrowed, competitive. “Two can play at that game,” He got up and charged into the kitchen to grab a bottle.

You got up and aimed the bottle in front of you, preparing yourself for battle. “I'll win, Stan!”

“Not so fast, squirt!” Stan yelled from the kitchen, and busted in and sprayed you with more water.

“Hey, quit it!” You shouted, attacking him in return.

“Hun, you started it!” He smirked widely, circling you and unexpectedly pouring water down your back.

“Fuck!” You shrieked, your laughter bouncing off the wall. “Stop! I quit, I quit!”

“You give up, huh?”

“Yes,” You breathlessly laugh, your bottle out of water and you carefully tiptoed over to the trash bin, wobbling a bit, and tossed it. “I'm done, and I'm wet.” You motioned to your clothes and some of your hair. You looked over to Stan and you got him pretty good, especially around his round belly, and glasses. Pffft, he was very wet. And, you haven't seen him smile that goofy like, were you smiling goofy like? Your cheeks hurt, maybe they were hot? You did just see Ford. Ford ... “Whoops, I guess we both are.”

But, Ford wasnt here. He wasn't anymore. You could never tell if he cared about you, he acts like he does but - no, he loves you, and he's scared to love you. You know that. And, you have to make yourself doubting all of this, doubt what is real and how maybe Ford can deal with this properly. You can easily accept the fact you want to touch him, kiss him, love him. He can't. And, the only reason was it was because you're not fully human, not even conceived as one.

You were human. The feelings and the thoughts, the trials and errors or your decisions up until this point were flawed in some form. You weren't perfect, however, being around people who do care about you, and don't treat you differently make you feel perfect, and you could day that they were as well. They learned to know you, and accept you.

You felt that with Ford.

Now it's his time to admit that he felt that way about you.