#gf fic

(I'm going to ramble about the plot so finally chance to avoid spoilers)

I love this fic so so SO MUCH!!! It's basically a psychic Stan fic where he gets visions of the future. It's not completely atm, but I do still recommend it! The second and third chapters take place in the past, with the remaining ones are in present.

The first two are from chapter one, whilst the last is from chapter two. He meets these witch ladies who give him a number for their coven. (Designs of the three ladies are non-canonically to the fic, I made them up)

Stan is basically in a trance when he gets a vision, though he is able to share the vision by holding another person's hand. After the other Pineses follows Stan and sees his vision, Ford kinda spirals it's great. He is essentially trying to fast-track stopping weirdmageddon from happening all the while Stan has accepted that he's going to "dead." (Vision doesn't go further than the memory gun scene, so he doesn't know he ends up okay)

I was originally just going to make a posting right after finishing the latest chapter that's just text + fic link. But art was more fun, sadly work sidetracked me for a few days before I could actually draw.

Well, no, Mom was there too if he really thought about it! But it wasn’t like he could talk to his gem.. that’d be a new low he just wasn’t ready to dip his toes into. That would be his official Rock Bottom.

His plan was to avoid Rock Bottom. By any means necessary. And those means? Get a job, an apartment, settle down for a bit until he’s ready to move on again!

In that moment, padding along a dirt path with his phone in-hand and video call onscreen, he would begin phase one of his plan: Employment.

“I did some research on this place right when I got into town,” he said into the phone and glanced down at Connie on the screen. She nodded. “And there’s a ton of weird stuff going on here. And they say it’s the real deal!” A light smile tugged at his lips. “I’m thinking it’ll be like a home away from home.”

The sound of keys clicking made his eyes flick downward again, and Connie piped up. “You know, people also say Bigfoot is the real deal.” She kept typing, then glanced from her webcam to the screen as the sound stopped. “Gravity Falls, right? There’s this news article that’s really redacted, it was the first result when I looked it up..” her voice trailed off. “Did you see it?”

“Uh, no. That’s kinda weird.” He weaved past someone with a muttered “sorry, excuse me,” and added, “maybe it’s not available here for some reason. They can’t stop people from seeing images, right?”

“You’re right! One second, I’ll screenshot it. ..Even though there isn’t a lot to see.” His phone dinged, a notification dropping from the top of the screen. ‘CONNIE sent an attachment’, it read. “Check it out later, I don’t want you to be late.” Just as Steven wondered what for, she questioned, “you do have an interview scheduled, right?”

He looked up at the building as he approached it. A cabin, one that looked like it’d seen more renovations than it’d seen better days. ..Shoddy renovations. And it’d still seen a lot of better days. Honestly, it gave the place character! 

“Nope! They didn’t pick up when I called, I think they have the wrong number on their website.” If them texting back with twenty-something pictures of a pig had anything to say about it.. he saved them all. The one of its wedding with the goat was beautiful. “My Dad said I can just walk in and ask for an application, though.”

Connie typed some more with a skeptical, “riiiiight,” and a few more notifications came up. He didn’t look down at them, not wanting to risk bumping into someone again, but her next words clued him in. “You’ve got some more options within driving distance if this doesn’t work out! You’re in a small town so everything’s close together.”

He slowed to a stroll as he reached the door, and stood off to the side to finish up their call. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, ye of little faith.” He deadpanned into his phone camera, but his face quickly settled back into his default grin. “Anyway, hey, I gotta go. I’m at the door right now.”

“Just be professional! And make sure you get a good wage!” Her voice crackled over the phone with enthusiasm, and Steven glanced at the screen to see her push back her chair to get a thumbs-up into the frame. “You’ve got this!”

He pressed a thumb to the screen so the UI would show up. “I’ve got this,” he echoed with vigor and a grin. “I’ll call you later and tell you how everything went.”

“You better! Your life is like my soap opera, Steven, I need updates!”

A chuckle escaped him, and they both exchanged their farewells and “love you”s, then he hung up. He stashed his phone in his pocket to get a good look at his outfit.

Default Steven. His usual outfit; the shirt, jacket, and pants. Featuring a new pair of sandals that was identical in every way to his old ones because the old soda tab fix only lasts so long when the.. toe-thing gets broken. 

“Are sandals professional..?” he asked himself in a murmur, observing his outfit carefully, and shrugged. “It’s probably fine!” He pushed the door open and strolled in.

The room he walked into looked like a gift shop. It was fairly open, keepsakes and trinkets galore lined the walls at sky-high prices and a double-sided shelf in the center of the room made two big aisles out of the place. Across from the entrance there was an employee-only door with the checkout stationed in front of it. The girl sitting there didn’t seem too busy– feet kicked up and a magazine in her hands.

Slow day, the little voice in his head commented, and he stuffed his hands in his pockets to prevent himself from browsing the shelves as he strolled past them.

Must.. resist.. no more.. useless souvenirs.. 

He reached the counter with three keychains and a bumper sticker in-hand. What-!? Steven, you sentimental fool! 

The cashier didn’t look up at him, not for a few moments as he stood there, so he spoke up to get her attention. “Um, hi,” he uttered with a polite smile.

“Yo,” she greeted simply, gaze still on her magazine, and pushed the bill of her hat up to look at him. He returned a chipper, “hey, how are you?” and handed her the keychains.

She hummed nonchalantly and waved him off when he tried to add the bumper sticker to the handful. “Bumper sticker’s free.”

A mumbled, “oh, sorry,” fell from his lips as he stored it in his pocket. He watched as the girl rang up the keychains and dug in his other pocket for his wallet, figuring it’d be good to have it ready when she gave him the price.

“6.99.” She said with a squint at the register and extended a hand. That wasn’t that bad, especially for souvenirs! He’d coughed up a lot more for a keychain before and wasn’t ashamed at all!

He plucked a five and a two dollar bill from his wallet, handing them over with a comment for her not to worry about the extra cent. As she took them he perked up with an “uh- I almost forgot to ask, are you hiring?” Now would definitely be a good time to ask.

The bills were slotted into the register, and with a drawn out “uuuuuuh..” she tapped her fingertips against the counter. As she finished, she shrugged. “No idea, man. Ask Soos– guy who runs the place. Everything goes through him anyway so it’s not like I could do anything for you.” She tossed him the keychains. “Except sell you keychains.”

“Oh, right.” A hand darted out to catch the keychains, and for the time being he clipped two of them to the third one and fixed the amalgam to his jacket’s zipper. ”Any idea where I can find him?”

“Should be done with this tour in a few minutes,” she leaned against the counter and glanced behind her at the door. “I won’t tell the cops you’re loitering if you wanna bum around until then.” Her eyes flicked back up to Steven for a second, then settled on her magazine. “Long as you don’t tell anyone I’m slacking off.”

Tour. That was a museum word. So why did they put “Shady Tourist Trap” on the website instead? He mentally shrugged it off– self awareness was a good thing. Usually.

“That sounds good!” chirped Steven. He squinted to read the nametag pinned to her flannel and added, “thanks, Wendy!”

Wendy didn’t give much in response– just a hum and a thumbs-up before she went back to what she’d been doing. Slacking off, that is. Not that Steven was in the right to tell. He’d made a deal.

Leaning against the nearest wall, he slipped his phone from his pocket to text Connie.

Hihi!!!

As good a greeting as any! He just hoped she wasn’t busy.

Hi Steven

Did they already interview you?

Not yet i haven’t talked to the boss

I should be able 2 in a few minutes

Ooooh alright

Kep me updated!

keep*

Ofc!! When have i not kept u updated on something??

today at 2:28 PM

His brows knitted, and he swiftly typed another message before Connie could.

Don’t answer that :’D

LMAO I wasn’t planning on it

Goodgood

Omg i should show u these keychains i just bought

Don’t you have like fifty?

53 now :]

Steven you have too many keychains

When are you going to have that many keys

How much money have you spent on keychains

Actually i’d rather not answer that

I’m serious you’re going to be filing for bankruptcy because of tourism

today at 2:30 PM

----

He started typing a response– more specifically a threat to buy more keychains– but replaced it with a simple “Gtg!!” and stashed his phone away as he heard the door swing open.

A man walked into the room. The first descriptive word that popped into Steven’s head upon laying eyes on his form was “portly”, the first phrase; kind of like if a gopher was human-sized and didn’t have any hair?

If the suit and fez had anything to say about it– he was the owner. Or just a really eccentric guy, but he really looked like the type to run a tourist trap in the middle of the woods. 

“Soos, whaddup.” Wendy waved at him, barely looking up for a second. “Kid over there’s asking about a job.” A point was directed toward him and Steven’s shoulders hunched as the guy looked over.

Actually, he shouldn’t have been nervous. This was good! He’d gotten his attention! It took him longer to get White’s attention way back when, and what were the odds of another instance of life-altering trauma?

..High. Such is the life of Steven Universe.

He adjusted the collar of his jacket and strolled across the floor, stopping a respectful distance from the owner. ..Soos. Professional. Be professional. Professional Steven was in the building. And in sandals. But spiritually he was in at least business casual attire.

Chin up, shoulders back, firm handshake. A hand he extended, tilting his head upward a little because he was a little shorter. “Hi, my name’s Steven Universe, I was hoping to inquire about a position of work at your establishment.”

Soos high-fived him. “Cool, dawg, needed another dude to help out!” He chortled, then leaned back against the counter. “How’s twenty five bucks an hour?”

“That’s.. fine? But– don’t I have to step into your office? And sign a bunch of paperwork?” He rubbed the back of his neck after staring at his high-fived hand for a few seconds. This was nothing like the movies taught him it’d be like! Where was the office!? The interview!? Was he even qualified!? 

This was like the other jobs he’d had where it was kind of on a whim and he only worked there for a few hours. Was he only going to end up working here for a few hours? He didn’t even get paid for any of those other jobs! ..Was that illegal? 

He made a mental note to look up child labor laws in Delmarva later.

“That’s, like, way too complicated for me, dude.” Soos grinned, checking his watch with a chortle. “Ohp– looks like a delivery's comin’ in fifteen, think you can help out with that? Be a lot quicker if two people carried all those boxes. If you’re cool with startin’ now.”

..It was that easy. Getting a job was that easy. “Yeah, I can help with that! I was technically a roadie when I was fourteen, if there’s anything I can do it’s unloading boxes.” He cracked his knuckles, wincing with a whispered “owwie” since he didn’t crack his knuckles very often and it hurt, then followed Soos to the door.

----

“Me and Mels have been trying to figure out a way to get trucks in through the back,” Soos rambled as they walked along the side of the shack toward the front. Steven had gathered a good bit of information by then, Mels was Melody. Melody was his girlfriend. “But we’d have to get rid of a buncha trees to make it happen. Trees are important, dawg.”

Oh, fellow Earth lover! He liked the Earth, too! “Yeah, deforestation sucks.. It’s like humans hate the Earth just as much as–” he cut himself off, then pursed his lips. “My.. relatives did..? It’s pretty crazy.” He stopped when Soos did, glancing about the parking lot. There were a few cars, including his, a bus with a group of tourists filing into it, but no delivery trucks.

“Ouf, relatives, dawg. My aunt told me to go on a diet the other day, I like bein’ all soft, dude.” Soos patted his stomach, and Steven breathed a laugh.

“The closest thing I have to an aunt ripped part of my body out a couple years ago, I get where you’re coming from.” He laughed again, continued laughing for a good few seconds too long, and only noticed it sounded kinda manic when he stopped. “..I got it back, though, so it’s fine.”

A beat of silence dragged on for longer than Steven would have liked, until Soos spoke. “Aunts are crazy, dawg.” He lamented with a shake of his head. “Yours sounds crazier than crazy. M’glad it worked out for you.”

Steven’s eyes flicked to the bus as it pulled out of the parking lot. “Me, too. Things are a lot better now, especially since they don’t know where I am to come nag me about visiting.” He rolled his eyes. A playful gesture, but one that carried about ten million "when are you going to visit us again, Steven?”s worth of exasperation behind it.

Soos began to speak, but was cut off at “I-” by the sound of a yelp, then a crash from the nearby woods. He recovered from his surprise in but a moment, sighing like a tired parent. “Those dudes, always gettin’ into trouble..”

“Who?” He looked in the direction of the noise and readied himself to sprint over and help. “Are they okay?”

Another yell. A thud. A crack. He didn’t wait for Soos’ response, instead kicking up a plume of dirt behind him as he bolted toward the treeline.

As he made it into the woods, he skidded to a stop as a couple of kids ran past. Then.. 

“Is that Bigfoot!?” He cried out, watching as the tall, hairy humanoid pursued the kids. They looked about the same age, and Steven didn’t doubt they were siblings. 

The girl grabbed her brother by the wrist and whipped a grappling hook from her sweater, hurtling the both of them into an above tree. “You must be new in town!” The boy called out from the branch they found themselves hanging from like a piñata. 

Just out of the skunk ape’s reach, Steven observed as it pathetically swatted at them but fell short. The kids were safe and it was distracted, that meant it was his time to shine!

“Hey!” He shouted, summoning a shield and grabbing hold of it. Once the cryptid turned around he threw it, the weapon spinning through the air until it smacked right between its eyes with a dull thunk. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size!?”

The two kids scrambled their way into the tree’s canopy, then the boy called, “dude, you’re like, half its height!”

Steven spared him and his sister but a glance as Bigfoot roared and began to charge. He resisted the urge to comment about its breath and summoned another shield to block a swipe of the monster’s claws. “Jeez, Ronaldo wasn’t kidding when he said you were strong!” 

After that, it waved its free hand dismissively with a shy growl, which really threw Steven for a loop. Was it flattered?

“Do you.. understand me?” He murmured incredulously. “Did Ronaldo say Bigfoot spoke–” A fist slammed into his shield, cutting him off with a clang and enough force to push him backward. He shook his head, puzzled, then yelped as the shield was ripped from his hands. Bigfoot hurled it at the tree the kids were in, but a frantically extended hand from Steven dissipated it in an array of sparkles.

“How do you keep doing that shield thing?” The girl chipperly called from their perch.

Steven was honestly way too focused on keeping them from being eaten to answer. “Did you guys do anything to make it angry!?” He shouted up to them.

“Uh, not really!” Answered the boy. “I guess Mabel was kinda loud!?”

“What!?” The girl– Mabel, apparently–punched her brother’s shoulder. “You were all, ‘oh my Gosh, it’s Bigfoo–’”

The three of them winced at another booming roar from the cryptid, and Steven formed a bubble around himself just before it could strike him. It hurled its fists into the bubble again. And again.

Somehow, even with the thumping of its attacks vibrating the bubble, he had a realization. “Wait.. it’s only been attacking when we call it Bigfoot..” His brows knitted together, and he pulled out a shield in preparation to drop the bubble.

With a wave of his hand, the bubble dissipated, and he raised his shield to block another hit. “Would you–” he was cut off by another attack but it seemed to understand it was being spoken to and watched Steven curiously as it let its fists rest against the shield. “..would you rather be called something else?”

A perplexed growl came from it, and it straightened while letting its arms drop to its sides. Then it raised a hand to tap its chin.

“Does ‘Skunk Ape’ sound better?” He put away the shield since it didn’t seem like he’d need it anymore, and nodded in acknowledgement at an unsure sound from the creature. “Hmm.. ‘Sasquatch’?” It almost seemed to smile at the suggestion, and Steven mirrored it. “Alright, Sasquatch it is!”

Sasquatch nodded with a satisfied grunt and crouched to extend a hairy, leathery hand toward him. Steven glanced at it for a moment, then took it for a jerky handshake that almost picked him up with each raise of their hands and yanked him downward as they dropped.

When his hand was released he tried not to wipe it on his jacket to not be rude, and smiled up at Sasquatch. “I’m glad we could work that out!” He chirped, turning his head to look up at Sasquatch as it straightened. 

It reached out again, this time bringing its hand down upon Steven’s head. If the impact wasn’t hard enough to make him dizzy, Steven would have assumed it was a pat, and he only managed to come to that realization after the black spots faded from his vision and his balance came back to him. “Urgh.. have a nice day..!” He called weakly in its direction as it stomped off.

“Okay, next thing.” He shook his head, then looked back up. “Do you guys need help getting down?”

“We’re fine!” Called the boy, shifting to climb down, but he lost his footing and was sent plummeting into the leaves of a bush underneath them with a yelp. “..still fine!”

Mabel barked out a laugh, then blew a raspberry at him. She extended her arms, making a grabby motion with her hands, and Steven took that as his cue to jump up there. He let her climb into his arms and floated down to the ground.

“Woah!” Mabel hopped to the ground when she was within a safe distance. “We floated down like a feather! How’d you do that?” She helped her brother up from his leafy tomb.

He dusted himself off, then jogged up to meet Steven. “Yeah, how did you do.. anything you just did? It was actively attacking you and you were still all diplomatic, and the thing with the shields and the bubble– that was amazing!” His shoulders slumped. "And pretty impossible."

“Oh, uh, I kinda got that from my Mom. The bubble and the shield, I mean.” He felt his cheeks warm a little, and smiled. ”I guess I’m just good at being cool under pressure.” Once he recovered from receiving a compliment he placed his hands on his hips. “Do you guys need any help getting home? My car’s just in the parking lot that way if you want a ride.” He gestured in the direction he came in from.

The two kids looked at each other, then back at Steven. “The shack? We live there!” Mabel piped. “Plus, me and Dipper–”

“Don’t just tell some random guy my na–”

“Shut up, Dipper. Anyway, we’re gonna keep looking!” She slung an arm around Dipper’s shoulders and tugged him closer.

..Who names their kid ‘Dipper’..?

He shook his head. “Is that so? What’re you two looking for?”

“..don’t patronize us,” deadpanned Dipper. A lot of “don’t”s from that kid. He produced a red book with a symbol featuring a hand on it from his vest. “But we’re looking for this guy.” He opened the– was that an extra finger?

He didn’t have time to think about it before he was shown a tattered, yellowed page featuring a photo of a glowing-eyed creature with large, sharp wings. Alongside it on the page was a drawing of it reaching for a bug zapper while a man threatened it with a broom. “..Mothman?” He arched an eyebrow with an amused grin. 

“He owes our grunkle a million dollars!” Mabel chimed.

“Actually, two hundred if we take into account both inflation and pettiness.” Dipper stashed away the journal and took out another one, a blue one with a silver pine tree on the cover. A pen marked the page he was on, and he drummed it against the paper. “Without pettiness it’d be, like, a hundred-seventy dollars. He told us to round up.”

Jeez, child debt collectors.

Speaking of money.. “Oh, man– I have to get back to work!” He whirled around to face the parking lot. “I just– ran off without saying anything, I haven’t even been officially hired yet and I’m gonna get fired!” 

“If you work where I think you work, you’re not gonna have to worry about that. I don’t think Soos has the heart to fire people.” He stuck the end of the pen in his mouth, closing that journal and putting it away as well.

They did mention living there, he trusted that the kid knew what he was talking about. ..But he still figured it’d be a good idea to get back to Soos. “I should still go help him out, there’s supposed to be a delivery truck coming and I don’t want to just let him unload it himself.”

“Good point.. last time he tried to do that himself he got stuck in one of the boxes,” Dipper moved the pen to the side of his mouth to say. “They’re, like, barely bigger than his head!” His brows knitted together, and he rolled his eyes. “We had to cut him out. ..After she got herself stuck too to keep him company.” 

He gestured with exasperation toward Mabel, who grinned and chirped, “that was a fun day!”

Steven let slip a chuckle, then sighed with a shake of his head. “That does sound fun, I had a blast sitting in boxes when I was little.” No deliveries were safe from toddler-Steven, he remembered making a castle of them around the van once. Dad couldn’t move it for a week because he didn’t want to ruin it. Then it rained and nature did it itself, heartbreaking. If only he’d known what that hydrophobic camping spray was as a kid.

But, shoot– he should really have gotten going a long time ago. 

He politely shut down a conversation Mabel tried to start about sitting in boxes (Dipper looked relieved), then they said their goodbyes and he jogged back out into the parking lot.

When Soos was within eyeshot, he was alone among a stack of.. like, ten boxes? That was what he needed help with? He could have totally done that! If it wasn’t for Literal Sasquatch. 

“Hey, uh, Sir!” He called as he ran up to him, practically skidding to a stop when he reached him. “I am so sorry, there were a couple of kids and they were being chased by Sasquatch and I would never just walk away from an obligation like that if it weren’t an emergency but I couldn’t just–”

“Dipper and Mabel?” Soos questioned before he could spiral too much into apologies. His response was pursed lips and a nod. “They’re always out lookin’ for mystery, guess they bit off more than they could chew this time. It’s good you helped ‘em out, dude. Heard they were on a Mothman hunt.

Steven figured he could help while he talked, and crouched down to start picking up boxes. “Mabel said something about a ‘Grunkle’? Apparently Mothman owes them money.”

“Yeah, dawg, crazy stuff. Dude deals with cryptids all the time. Or– no– shoot– doesn’t deal with them, he doesn’t make deals anymore.” He nodded to himself. That was cryptic. That was an enigma Steven craved answers to. 

Seemed about par for the course for this town. He could tell he’d be dealing with a lot of mysteries. He stacked the last box onto the tower he had going.

“You’re probably gonna get to meet him real soon, he’s my uncle.” Soos’ voice lowered to a hushed one, and his brows knitted. “Right now he’s kinda–”

Steven hoisted up the boxes with a “hup!”, and Soos cut himself off. He leaned back a little to balance the stack, chuckling at his new boss’ muttered comment of “..woah.” Ooh, but he didn’t mean to interrupt him.. Surely what he was going to say wasn’t important at all! ..he hoped, because it didn’t seem like Soos had any intent to finish his sentence. “Where did you say you needed these?”

“Just in the gift shop, dude, plop ‘em down wherever.” As Steven nodded and started walking, Soos ambled past him to open the door. “You must hit the gym,” he said as he went through the door, and chortled.

He waddled into the gift shop and set the boxes on the floor beside the door. “I’ve never been to a gym.” He arched an eyebrow, picking at the end of the tape holding a box shut. “It’s mostly genetic, but I still get a lot of exercise.”

“I can tell, dawg! Those snow globes are heavy.” He dug in the pocket of his slacks and took out a box cutter, which was then tossed to Steven. Not before he made sure it was retracted. “You can not open those things with your hands, dude, almost lost a finger trying. Sticky tape don’t mess around, heh.”

Steven knew how that was.. Pearl had to cut him out of a few of his own sticky tape traps when he was a kid. Such is the life of a boy who opens his own mail. “I’ve been opening packages since I was little,” he cut the box open with one smooth slice, then opened the flaps. “Not that I got good at it or anything. Just stopped having casualties.” 

They both shared a laugh at that, and got to stocking the shelves.

----

“This is the last one!” Steven chirped as he plucked a stuffed animal resembling Sasquatch from the bottom of the box. It was stubbier than the beast he’d dealt with earlier, with shaggy fur and two shiny, marble-like eyes. “These guys are cute,” he glanced down the aisle at the other cryptid-themed plushies. “Are they all.. real?”

Sasquatch, Mothman, gnomes, stomach-faced ducks, there was no way all of those were real. In fact, what? A stomach-faced duck? That was what the label on the plush said. What? 

“Oh, yeah, totally, this town’s full’a paranormal junk. We had a ghost problem last week, turned out she just wanted a tour.” He snickered as he padded up to where Steven was, and gestured toward the plush in his hand. “You should keep that, dude. Totally fitting since you got to meet Bigfoot earlier.”

“He prefers ‘Sasquatch’,” he corrected, then smiled. “But that’s so nice!” He took a closer look at the ball of fuzz in his hands. “Thank you so much, I’ll take good care of him.” He promised, referring of course to the inanimate plushie, but he was too old to be told he couldn’t like plushies! He was also too old to like plushies but that was neither here nor there to Steven Universe.

Soos nodded sagely. “Good to hear, dawg, not enough good stuffy owners these days.” He crossed his arms with knitted brows as if people mistreating their stuffed animals was a big problem in society. Which.. sure, people should probably treat them better. 

Steven knew Ronaldo just left his Koala Princess: Ōsutoraria plushie collection on a shelf to collect dust.. what was the point in that? Did he really get them just to stare at them?

He was broken from his thoughts by a pat on the shoulder, and turned to see Soos gesturing toward the employee-only door behind the counter. “Dude, if you’re gonna work here you should meet the old owner. Guy taught me everything I know. If it weren’t for him, I’d still be wearin’ velcro shoes.”

“Alright,” he let Soos lead him toward the door, one arm casually at his side and the other holding his new plushie to his chest. ..Maybe that wasn’t professional. He deposited it with Wendy as he passed the counter, and she promised with a roll of her eyes not to “let it starve or whatever” while he was gone. It seemed like she dealt with plushies a lot. 

Just as they stepped in the doorway, his boss glanced down at his feet. “Aw, shoot, my shoe’s untied. You go ahead. I’ll be right with you, dude.” He knelt down to tie his shoe, whispering to himself, “the innocent burglar goes through the rich dude’s window..”

Steven wondered who it was that taught him that.

Shrugging it off for the time being, he walked through the door and was met with a living room. Okay, business and residence in one building, that wasn’t the weirdest thing he’d seen.. But now he was just standing in someone’s living room.

And someone was sitting in the armchair. He wore a pair of plaid pajama pants, a white tank top, and a less concerned expression than Steven would expect someone to have while staring at someone who just randomly walked into their house.

“..Uh.. hi.” Steven’s shoulders hunched a little. “I was looking for the person who owned this place before Soos?”

The guy in the chair considered his question for a second, then spoke up in a gruff voice, “he’s in Timbucktu, kid, you should head over there.” He gestured to the left with his head–probably just for show. 

“Can you.. get there by car?” His eyes flicked around. “I’ll probably need to get directio–”

“Hell if I know, but there’s ‘gullible’ written on the ceiling.” He pointed upward. On reflex, Steven looked, then facepalmed as he registered what the man had told him. A barked laugh from the other person, then he reached for the remote on the coffee table to shut off the TV. “I’m your.. guy.” He squinted. Then he extended a hand. “Stanley Pines, unless you’re with the government. Then I may or may not have around fifty other names you can choose from depending on the criminal record it’s got attached.”

..Definitely the type of guy to teach Soos the burglar thing. And bestow upon him a tourist trap. It all made sense.

Steven reached out to shake his hand, but before he could he pulled it away with a comment that he was too slow. “..o..kay?” He blinked, hand dropping to his side. “You have a nice establishment here. Soos just hired me–”

“Oh. Oh. That's why you're standing in my living room. You work here.” He kicked his feet up on the coffee table and turned the TV back on. “Welcome to the team, or somethin’. Drinks are in the kitchen.” He flippantly waved toward the kitchen, then went back to what he was doing.

That was it? The conversation was over? He guessed he could go for a Sugar Shock Shutdown if they had any.. he’d been collecting the different cans lately, maybe Oregon had some special flavor.

He gave an awkward farewell, then wandered off toward the kitchen. 

When his foot crossed the threshold into the kitchen, though, he stopped in his tracks as he met the eyes of yet another stranger. This time, a boy who couldn’t be older than ten with brown hair and a maroon-red sweater. His eyes were framed by black, rectangular glasses and wide as dinnerplates. 

One of his hands was in the fridge, pulling out a green can (the branding of which Steven recognized as the Sugar Shock Shutdown logo), but the other went into his pocket before Steven could even see it. “Who the Hell are you?” He asked point-blank, which actually made Steven flinch because he wasn’t expecting to meet a swearing, energy-drink-consuming child that day.

“I- uh- Steven? I work here?” He was starting to feel like a broken record explaining that.

“‘You Steven’. Hm. Cavemannish.” The boy turned away, but Steven could hear him opening the can. “Since when? ..Have you had a job here, I mean. I should have heard about it.” He spun to face Steven, setting the can on the counter next to him and folding his arms behind his back. 

So he swore, drank energy drinks, and spoke like a scientist in a movie. Alright. Stranger things have happened than child neglect. “Like, half an hour ago. Give or take one Sasquatch sighting.”

“Hm, I’ve been meaning to catch up with Bigfoot. ..but, don’t call him that to his face. How is he? Terrorizing people?” He leaned back against the counter with a smile that really contrasted how uptight he looked just a second ago. “That was one of his favorite hobbies last time we spoke. Aside from the book club he’s in.”

“Sasquatch can read?” He quickly shook his head, then blinked. “And you’ve hung out with him?” This place was starting to mess with Steven! This was cryptid-weird, he didn’t deal with cryptid-weird!

And the little kid looked at him like he was the odd one here. “Yes? You’ve met him, don’t you know he’s a pleasant person?” He folded his hands in front of him, sleeves tugged over his fingers, with an innocently-perplexed expression. 

“He was chasing a couple of kids when I saw him. ..He was pretty reasonable when I tried diplomacy.. I’ll give him tha–”

“Who was he chasing?” He was cut off by a tiny, alarmed voice. “Raspberries.” He hissed like it was a swear. “I need to make a call.” Before Steven could even answer his question he hurried out of the room, slipping a walkie-talkie from.. actually, Steven wasn’t sure where he got it from.

That wasn’t important! What was important was the conversation he was about to overhear!

“Dipper! You didn’t tell me you were chased! And by Bigfoot– did he hurt you? Are you and your sister okay?” Steven could hear pacing–a series of rapid, heavy footsteps–and the voice of Dipper crackling over the walkie. 

Whatever he had to say clearly wasn’t enough, because the kid (who was.. definitely younger than Dipper and shouldn’t have had any authority over him) barked into the device, “absolutely not! Come home, now. Yes, that’s what I said! I want to see your smiling– er, probably disgruntled faces safe and sound within the hour. I love you too, Mabel. Take care, Pumpkin-Pie. Over.”

‘Pumpkin-Pie’? That was so sweet! ..The nickname and the food!

He tried not to make his adoring grin too obvious when the boy walked back in. When he saw Steven was still there his eyes widened a little, then narrowed. “You’re still here,” he observed in a grumble. “Did you.. need something?”

“Your Dad told me I could get a drink,” he glanced back at the fridge, rubbing the back of his neck, “but I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to touch the Sugar Shock Shutdown.”

The pupils staring up at him shrank, and the eyes holding them widened again. Maybe closer to the size of a satellite plate this time. “My what–” he shook his head. “um, drink what you want. They aren’t exactly a limited resource, I can always run out and buy more..” He reached for his own can without breaking eye contact with Steven and took a long drink from it.

When he slammed it onto the counter he spoke up in a somewhat-breathless voice, “can you see ghosts?” 

Oh! Oh. His Dad was– oh. Steven felt terrible, now. Wow. 

Just before Steven could speak up and apologize, he shrieked, “tell him to find someone else to haunt! I get much more than enough of him in my subconscious, I don’t want him over here in the in-between realm bothering me.” He crossed his arms and flippantly waved a hand.

“You don’t like him?” He crouched to the boy’s level (which he didn’t seem to appreciate and glared at him for) and once again tried to hide his expression–this time a more concerned one. “What’s wrong with your Dad?” He knew at that point Stanley probably wasn’t his Dad.. but maybe something was wrong.

“I am not interested in unpacking all of that for a stranger.” His eyes flicked to his hand, and he tucked both of them behind his back with a blush. ..Steven didn’t notice anything wrong about his hands, he wondered why he kept hiding them.

Not his business. He wouldn’t want to talk about it. “Alright, that’s fine, you don’t need to tell me anything.” Steven pushed himself to his feet, turning toward the fridge. “I’ll just get something to drink and leave you alone, alright?”

“You didn’t have to ask, you could have just done it.” 

“..got it.” He hunched his shoulders, snapped the first can he saw out of the fridge, and turned to leave.

But fate had other plans, if Stanley walking in before he could reach the door had anything to say about it. 

“Stanley!” Greeted the sweater-clad boy in a chirp. “Soos hired someone new,” he pointed directly at Steven, and added as if he was deaf, “he’s.. a character, from the little I’ve spoken to him.”

“A character, huh.” The older man glanced back at him, and he pretended like he was deaf and took a casual sip of his drink. ..Ooh, Kiwi-Strawberry was nice.. “Good or bad?” 

  “..I couldn't tell you.” He narrowed his eyes at Steven, watching as he took another drink and curiously side-eyed the two of them. “You can always just tell Soos to let him go.” That made Steven choke on his drink.

Then Stanley approached him, and he found himself frantically punching his chest to expel the caffeine and sugar nightmare mixture from his windpipe. 

“Uh.. you okay there-”

“Yes, sir! Perfectly fine, sir!” He croaked in a squeaky voice, then coughed again.

Stanley eyed him suspiciously for a second..

And gave a shrug that couldn’t be more casual. “Alright, well, listen. I’m gonna let you in on a little somethin’.”

Steven tried to resist the tickle in his throat of another cough as he looked up at him with interest. Company secret? Tragic backstory?

“Soos owns this place, but I run it. Hiring goes through me.” He gestured sharply toward himself with a thumb. 

Oh. Less exciting than he thought. ..Also worrying. He might be fired.

“You’re a promising kid. I like your attitude.” Oh! He might not be fired! “You’ve got the job on two conditions. One of em’s harder than the other.”

“Respectfully, sir, I think I can handle pretty much anything as long as it stays on this planet.”

“Hey, that's the spirit.” He shot him with a finger gun. “Alright, alright, your conditions.” He then repurposed that finger gun into a stern point. “One, you don’t give Soos any trouble. You got a problem, you come to me because it’s usually gonna be my fault.”

A huff of laughter escaped Steven, and he nodded. “No trouble for Soos, got it.”

“Good. And two,” he leaned a little closer and lowered his voice. “Keep him,” he pointed to the boy behind him, who seemed much more interested in a bag of jellybeans he was munching on than their conversation, “out of trouble.”

Oh, he’d babysat worse.

His eye twitched at the memories.

“I think I can handle him, he looks nice!” He chirped, a light smile on his face. “I have some experience in babysitting, anyway. I watched someone a little younger than him a lot before I moved.”

Stan straightened, back cracking as he went up. “Eh, he’s more mature than he looks.” He said in a somewhat-strained voice. Steven vowed to never get old, old people always complained about their backs. He wasn’t going to do that.

He blinked. Then shot another glance at the boy at the table. “I’ll keep that mind. ..Does that mean I’m hired?”

“Not without signing some crap.” Paperwork. He knew it wasn’t as simple as ‘you’re hired’! “What kinda employer d’you think I am?”

Steven figured he was the under-the-table kind of employee, but now he felt bad for assuming. He just seemed like a shady guy! “Right, right, I’m not used to this stuff, sorry.” A shy grin as he laced his fingers together in front of him.

“You know any lawyers?”

“I- ..no?”

“Good.”

“Where did you get all those–”

He was cut off by the slam of an encyclopedia-thick stack of papers onto the counter beside them.

“I have to sign all of that?” His shoulders slumped, face pinched into one of horror. Moreso when Stan nodded. 

I’ve had this idea for a while and i probably might write it but in the off chance I never do I’m sharing it here

It’s basically roadside attraction but Ford comes with the gang and Mabel and Ford bond while trying to find items to make the unicorn dome stronger

Also Wendy is coming with and Stan decides to teach her “Crime: The Stan Way” cuz Wendy and Stan bonding is one of the most underrated kind of bonding ever imo.

My idea is that the unicorn dome doesn’t surround the shack like a bubble but rather wraps around its walls like a bubble wrap or smth, and Ford wants it to be a bubble like in the show so he decides to stay in the shack to figure out how to fix it but Mabel convinces him she can help him find what he needs on the road trip.