my gravity falls sideblog lol

Wondering where I got those little Pines family critters who crawl around my computer? Well look no farther than these Pines Family Shimejis!

alto alliterates - tag for my writings

alto art - tag for my visual art

alto arranges - tag for my masterposts, masterposted.

list of fics i've written - what it says on the tin, a masterpost for my fics

my ao3 - where i put my gravity falls fics :-)

altos aus - masterpost for all my aus!

Hello! I’ve had this pinned post you for a while now, but it just occurred to me that I’d neglected an introduction - whoops! I’m Al, or whatever shortening of my username you’d like! This is my Gravity Falls sideblog. I write fics, make fan art, and like making/ indulging in AUs! Never be afraid to shoot over an ask or a DM if you have questions or just want to chat - I love talking to people! Hope you like my blog :))

-Al (he/him), 🧡💛🤍🩵💙

The dog-headed Remus watched at the doorway, perched there, knees pressed into the hardwood floor, with ever-narrowed eyes.

They'd moved through the mind for- how long had it been? Had the seconds ticked by, in the outside world? Or were they suspended in a state between minutes, timeless, and waiting to emerge right back into the moment they'd left? Were they running out of time, or drowning in it?

It had felt like quite a while, but it was hard to say. Everything was hard to say, in here. Just him, Remus, Fiddleford, and this warm-to-the-touch, pleasant pantomime of Ford's real house.

And the memories. Always, always the memories.

Most of them were mundane things - Ford had been there for the majority. Inside this faux-cabin, only the memories made inside the real thing seemed to be held.

Memories of Remus scaring off raccoons from Ford's trash. Memories of Remus lazing about on the couch. Eating dinner with Ford. Watching him research. Dragging him away from said research as soon as the sun dipped below the horizon. So, so many memories, and none of them yielding much of anything.

Remus seemed only to think in terms of the present. And when he did reflect on the past, he did so with infuriating briefness, preferring to not think about it all. Ford had only caught him reminiscing once or twice so far, and never about anything that was at all related to what Ford was looking for.

Not that what Ford was looking for was particularly easy to find. He was trying to prove a negative, and so far, he'd found nothing that did so. He didn't even find anything that proved Fiddleford right. He'd be smugger about that if he weren't so quickly running out of patience.

And these memories - they were all so banal. The one he was watching now was the first interesting one he'd seen since- since a while ago.

In the memory, the fridge light flickered, the only artificial sun to illuminate the scene. And the real-Ford-witnessing-this sighed wearily.

"My respect for you is rapidly diminishing," he said, as he watched the memory of Fiddleford and Remus competing in a tug of war for an opened, mostly empty pack of bacon in Ford's kitchen at the dead of night.

The dog-headed Remus made a vague snorting sound beside them, which could mean anything but Ford was choosing to interpret as agreement.

"I don't wanna hear it," was all that Fiddleford deigned to grumble in response.

The memory playing out before them had Remus give one more valiant tug, finally, victoriously yanking the pack right from the weakening grip of the past Fiddleford. Fiddleford squawked loudly in dismay - then snapped his hands over his mouth, eyes darting up, towards the ceiling, where Ford had probably been working, or slumped over and passed out at his desk.

Remus, on the other hand, didn't have any such concerns. Taking Fiddleford's distraction for the opportunity it was, he sank his teeth into a steady grasp of the pack of bacon, then turned metaphorical-tail hustled out of the kitchen.

The scene followed him as he thumped on hands and knees up the staircase, ducking through the door to Ford's room, which was left ajar, and gaping. With the casualness of someone had apparently done this numerous times, he slid underneath the bed, prize still held clasped between his teeth.

"So that's where he was always going," the real, present-Fiddleford standing beside Ford muttered under his breath. "Never could figure out where he was storin' it all."

"Storing it?" Ford echoed, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye.

"He was always runnin' off with some sort of nibble in between his teeth," Fiddleford explained. "If it weren't something out of the pantry then it was some poor critter he nabbed from the woods. And he never left things half-eaten, either - either he chomped it all down in one go or he'd go wanderin' off to hide it somewhere, and I'd find him snacking on it later. You'd think he'd be leaving bits of things left and right, but he never did toss a single thing, that one."

Ford blinked. "…I'm sure there's a perfectly rational explanation for that!" he said after a moment.

The memory of Remus grunted, plastic crinkling under his teeth as he gnawed at the bacon package. Bumping the already sliced-open plastic wrapping top out of the way with his nose, he bit down on the edge of one strip of bacon and peeled it in the same one would a piece of meat from a carcass.

Ford looked away pointedly when Remus snapping his teeth, chewing it like a dog with a bowl of kibble. "It's not of present concern anyways," he said with finality. "Let us descend!"

Fiddleford huffed, but in the end they both kept walking, and the dog-headed man kept following.

Audio Transcript:

Playing an edited version of the song 'Using You' by Mars Argo. The song has drums with a few chords from a guitar, sung by a woman. The lyrics in this video are:

I was afraid to put myself on the line for a boy 'Til he put me in my place and showed me how to enjoy myself I think I need your help, I think she's coming back