#portalstan

The boy's nerves are shot, the hairs on his skin pricked on end as he clings to the rock for dear life. He has no idea where he is, when he is, and why – all he knows is that he's a VERY short stretch from the wrong place at the wrong time. His hands clench tightly around the time tape; if only he had known it would get him into this mess...

When the voice demands audience with him, he swallows the lump in his throat. Will he or won't he? The voice inside of him is screaming, telling him to shy away and hide. But if he does, wouldn't that anger the stranger even more? What's the point in hiding if the other knows he's there?

"Hey, ki— Dipper. Hey, listen to me," Stanley kept his voice gentle but firm, the ' rare no-bullshit ' tone that Ford would rib him over, "Dipper, it's okay." it's okay to not be okay, it's okay to feel things, it's going to be okay. They were things he'd never been told when he was younger, things ( among many others ) he wanted to say to his great nephew, and knew he'd, with time, say.

But he'd never been good with the truth, so instead, he prayed that he could let his actions speak for him this time and pulled the kid ( because even though he was a man now, they were still just a kid ) into a bear hug, wrapping his arms as though he could protect Dipper against all the terrors that still haunted; firmly ignoring the guilty whispers in his ears. There would be time for beating himself up ( how could he have let this go on for so long? ) later. He had more important things to care about at the moment.

"I'm here, alright. I've got you and I ain't letting go," never, "You're not alone, you hear me, Dipper? You're not alone."

Dipper fights to take a breath against the suffocating panic filling their chest — now only made all the worse by feeling twelve, and the underlying pressure to prove themself in front of Stan all coming back to the surface again. Every nightmare, every panic attack sent him right back there: helpless and alone. They’re unable to even look at him; and yet, when swooped up into the hug, arms immediately fall around his Grunkle, squeezing tight and afraid to let go.

❝ But -- ❞ the child attempts to interject, but the train to curiosity is cancelled and he regards the other with a frustrated pout. Between his great uncles, he's had so many questions, so many wonderings that not even answers from his Great Uncle Ford sufficed. If there had been any answers at all... They didn't even know there WAS a basement, let alone the huge portal sitting beneath this old cabin's floors. Too dangerous, to quote Ford. All these questions across the summer, left unanswered. And Dipper finally has the answers. Except they won't speak to him! ❝ There must have been thousands... no, millions of places you've been to through that thing! There has to be one you can tell me about that I don't have to read through some weird subtext -- ❞

Honestly, why was he kidding himself? Gravity Falls is weirdness incarnate. It's really unsurprising that the rest of the multiverse would be like that. But there's something about this town, more bizarre than the rest of the world. He supposes he thought it'd be an exception... from what he gathers from Stan, it's the opposite. So much more and it's kinda terrifying actually ( and yet, the unsettling feeling of being KNOWN ). But that doesn't mean he isn't curious! He pauses.

I've been seeing a lot of works for the AU where Stan falls into the portal instead of Ford, and they're great! I understand having the face of Bill's biggest target wouldn't make things easy, and it was probably still traumatic, but consider an alternative:

Stanley Pines would thrive in the multiverse.

At their cores, Stan and Ford are two wildly different people, and thus would have a vastly different array of experiences when put into the same (albeit constantly fluctuating and inherently weird) set of circumstances. Ford's reaction was to keep a low profile, and detach himself from others (the Lone Hero complex he struggles with through the series).

But imagine Stan, thrown out of the portal and alone with nothing but the clothes on his back, a situation he is (painfully) familiar with, only now he has ten years of experience with the situation and knows exactly what needs to get done to ensure his survival.

Stan, dropping seamlessly into his salesman persona, charming the pants off of a band of rogues in the nightmare dimension, and they show him how to use the portals to get around the multiverse.

Stan, who's spent every night since he was seventeen in his car half a degree from freezing to death, being thankful for the temperate climate of the first world he falls into. He still worries about Ford, but he sleeps better his first night in the multiverse than he has in a long time because he doesnt need to set alarms every ten minutes to ensure he'll wake up again.

Stan, who (despite the looming threat of Bill over his head) can finally breathe because there's nowhere in the multiverse he's banned from (yet), no cartels out for his blood, no constant fear of human enemies because he's the only human for lightyears and he feels ten years of tension flow out of his shoulders.

Stan, who starts picking up knickknacks in various worlds and surprising himself when the cool rock he found on the desert planet sells for an astonishing amount to those mantis people. He taps into his haggling skills and walks away with more money than he ever had on Earth.

Stan, who buys a huge knapsack to keep odds and ends in, and charms peddlers into revealing the locations of valuable merchandise across the cosmos. Sometimes he brings them along for a cut of the spoils, other times he regales them with tales of daring escapes and brutal battles. He collects scars along with his wares, but all of them bring a spark of old excitement into once-empty eyes (save the symbol on his shoulder, but denizens of the multiverse learn not to ask).

Stan, who turns the cons of his childhood into respected business practices. He makes enemies (you can't change nature), but leaves behind a trail of people he's helped in his wake. The interstellar police knock on the door of an entity made of pure energy. The entity politely says it can't help them. When the police are gone, Stan pops out from behind the couch, congratulating it on a great performance.

Stan, behind whom grow tales of the wandering nomad with quick hands and a quicker wit, who has contacts spread across the width of the galaxy, who could be the bringer of salvation or destruction (Stan laughs when he hears that, but the slime child notices the pride quirking up the side of his mouth).

Stan, whose first instinct isn't to hide, but to connect, because he's good at it.

Stan, who has the adventures he dreamed of as a child, finding treasures beyond belief (and a good number of babes along the way).

“ No, that’s not what I meant at all, “ the man shoots back instantly, swallowing the lump caught in his throat. Nice going, Stanford; all that IQ and you don’t think before you speak. His insecurity had gotten the better of him & now Stanley sees himself worse for it. Guilt has been eating at him for a little more than three decades, stretching across the span of Glass Shard Beach—where it had been something better. Something none of them can ever go back to. “ Stanley, you came here when I asked you. He was… manipulating me, he was going to kill me, and you were saving my life. After everything I… “

….he’d done. When he isn’t worth it. Words hard to admit from Stanford Pines, who has never elected to be a man who’s wrong. Oh, the ego is beyond stupidity now.

“ If it meant you getting lost like that—it wasn’t worth it, “ he sighs, turning away and averting his eyes. He can’t even look his brother in the face. Stanford can’t imagine the things he’s seen, the things he’s had to go through, all because of his idiot brother. He’s just in awe the man is still alive. “ None of it was. I would have just… “

Ford stops himself, snapping himself from his self-loathing. Now is not the time for a pity party. What’s done is done.

“ You don’t realize it, but you saved the universe. You saved me, everyone—and I’ve just as quickly doomed us all. Again. “

@portalstan SAID: [ hii c: jumpscares you w/ tbc au if they. ever bring me back </3 ] "Heh, you ever think we're ever gonna run into Pa?" The humor in Lee's voice was a touch forced, his smirk a lil strained, eyes kept on the lucid stalking below their feet from where they sat on the roof, rotten eggs in hand, "Hey, if you manage to figure that out, I'll let you take the first shot on him, deal?"

The boy snaps out of intense thought, leaned back against the rise in the roof as he monitors the figures below. His sibling’s words snap him from his stupor, glancing over at the ‘joke’—Ford couldn’t really say he could consider it one, and if it was, it’s morbidity at its finest. When it came to his parents, it had been something he hadn’t liked thinking about. And yet, in the same vein, it’s something he doesn’t STOP thinking about. They are amongst the sea of reasons they’re doing this for.

There’s a meek laugh as his eyes ghost over the eggs.

@portalstan SAID: [ reverse portal verse <3 ] He wasn't even sure what they'd been arguing about this time. All he knew was that things were too damn much, his heart racing in his chest, and Ford hadn’t been helping, and wasn’t that such an easy path to spiral down? Just another stupid argument, just so damn typical of them, and yet— " Dammit, Sixer, why can't you just—! " A glint of light. That was all it took for his mouth to snap shut with an audible click of fake teeth. His body froze stiff for a moment before his hand lunged out without warning, grabbing Stanford’s jaw none too gently, looking for something— before Stanley let go and stepped back as though he’d been burned ( again ).  A myriad of emotions flickering through his expression — something a little like horror, something a little like heartbreak — before settling on exhaustion. As if his frayed strings had finally been cut. “ You’re not my Ford. ”  The statement fell out flat, and, for once, he could find nothing more to say. Because— because he’d been too caught up like an idiot searching for yellow that he’d never stopped to realize how wrong it was to see blue. Because— Because Stanford — his Ford, his Ford's eyes — they were supposed to be like Stanley's. Brighter. Livelier, sure. But brown, not blue. They weren't supposed to be Blue. They weren't supposed to be blue.

It's been tense since his brother's return.

No, Stanford considers that the understatement of the century. Between bouts of sleep deprivation, portal complications, and Bill's impertinent interventions, his brother's return had been a landslide he'd never been quite prepared for. How long has it been, fighting for his own mind, his legacy & what mattered? And he had no idea at all what to say to the other rather than spit venom of how it could have been, rather than for what it COULD be. THE GUILT HAS BEEN EATING HIM FOR THE BETTER PART OF THREE DECADES, and he acts as if walls stand tall when they've eroded to nothing. Stanley asks him to explain himself. But how do you save the world and save your brother? It's an intricate puzzle that Ford is griping with the consequences for. Does he really have everything in place? Enough to stop Bill? All that work to get someone back, and lose it all anyway.

“ It's not that SIMPLE, Stanley, I— “ the man's voice gets caught in his throat as the other turns stiff, blinking in confusion when—blissfully—Stanley goes silent. Or so he thought, too stunned to react as his jaw is gripped tightly & person inspected intensely.