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cringe weird and queer
@darius-shack
🔞➕ [26] darius' GF freak blog (hardcore stancest fan); au's, angst, even more ships in pinned, general character appreciation 🌟 find more twitter @gravity_darius & bsky @darius-shack & ao3: Night_Falls
pinned post intro celebrating 100 followers and 1,000 posts! welcome to darius-shack; fic, art, theories, with a focus on ships. this is an adult blog, no minors, only for other freaky adults. i cannot stress that enough. [my likes on posts will come from tmig200, don't be alarmed, that's my main!]
i love stancest, pinecest, pinesot4 and all combinations as such! im alright with b8llf0rd, im okay with f1ddauth. as you can guess my preference lies with incest.
my writing tag is dariuswrites, anons i answer are under dariusspeaks, any nsft and ship is tagged accordingly.
my links: Night_Falls on ao3, gravity_darius on twitter & darius-shack on bsky
my kinks + squicks under the cut:
top kinks & things I like in order: breeding, pregnancy/mpreg, labor/crowning, whump, incest, oviposition/tentacles, alien fucking, dubcon/noncon roleplays, age gap, recreational drug usage, bondage, voyeurism/exhibitionism, ect.
if it's not on the squick list it's fair game! including piss.
squicks/hard limits: scat, vomit, zoophilia (monster fucking is still on the table), extreme ageplay, sexual coercion, revoked consent.
on the general fiction hand, age regression is nice. love that shit. so is first kisses. im a sucker for getting together tropes. my fave stans are the grunkles at sea.
the Dark!Stan concept where he still has amnesia and is just really pushy and Ford is so wracked with guilt that he just goes along with whatever Stan wants is still ford's fault, he's in a hell of his own making, as the person that has the full context regardless of his feelings its his JOB to get things in order for Stan when he comes to an inaccurate conclusion lol
and it's so funny that thats the worst some people can go for Dark!Stan, youve got dark!Ford out here drugging and experimenting on Stan or time travelling just to steal a version of his brother from his younger self and shit and Stan just... got the wrong idea while amnesiac and Ford was too busy spiralling to establish proper boundries
giving. my period symptoms to Ford pines again. he can deal with upper and lower back pain, hip pain, thigh pain, lower intestional pain, taint pain, pussy pain. I DONT WANT IT.
Thinking about that dark au I based off of obaa where a Portal Ford becomes obsessed with stalking a Pirhana Stan that once captured and sexually humiliated him. He becomes addicted to watching P!Stan kill alternate versions of Ford that don't escape and he follows him until he realizes P!Stan occasionally takes lovers to fuck and use and he wants to be dominated by him again and again and again. And he wants his gun/turtleneck back from that first meeting.
If I write it, will you read? Is anyone in to this idea??
Apparently Wild West prostitutes used horse hair pads to make their butts look fuller. I don’t know what point I’m trying to make here, I just needed to share that.
Been thinking about the Idea of a horribly sex-repulsed Bill. Like, Stan and Ford met up in their 30s and for whatever reason it goes different, Stan's trying to think of ways to help Ford sleep and not get hurt by Bill anymore and Ford mentions there is ONE thing that Bill really hates but it's 'not a option'
Of course Stan won't have that and pushes, Ford finally gives in and tells him and Stans like "..but what if it was a option?"
So now Stan's fucking Ford every night to fill him up and/or fucking Ford while he sleeps so Bill doesn't possess him. Maybe Bill tries to once or twice but only for all of five seconds before he realizes Stan is way, WAY stronger than Ford.
Bill is SO pissed off about it while the Pine twins couldn't be happier. They both love eachother (haven't confessed) and now they have a completely valid reason to fuck? Perfection.
Just loving the idea Ford can't sleep if Stan's dick isn't involved in the process. Lmao
Stan and Ford visiting alternate dimensions through a much more practical, fully-functional portal device. They return to some of Ford's stomping grounds. One particular species welcomes Ford back warmly and are very interested in Stan. Ford understands the language and acts as translator for his brother and the people.
Some members of the species pick up the unspoken tension between the twins and use a word that makes Ford fluster mid-conversation. It's easy for Stan to pick up on, and he wittles Ford away, trying to ask what it was the creature said. Trying to play cool, Ford explains that Stan was referred to as his "littermate." He stalls on giving Stan the definition but Stan comes to his conclusion.
"Oh, as in brothers."
Well, yes. Technically, that was right. It's not like it was necessary for Stan to know the full definition. So, he smiles and nods, and allows Stan to believe it. Allows for Stan to publicly proclaim himself and Ford as littermates.
Allows himself to show Stan off to the species as his littermate. Because this was the closest he'd surely ever get to having the real thing.
After all, incest wasn't taboo among these people. So much so that they had their own word for when two of the same litter became mates.
Okay okay okay. What if Pinesot4 dynamic where dipfordbel are already together and Stan is either:
a.) Completely ignorant to the fact that his brother and niblings are in a relationship because they all feel like he's “not ready” to know the truth. They want to be with him so badly, but they collectively agreed that they need to marinate him in Incest Normalization first.
Or B.) Very much aware and very upset about the whole thing. Or, well, he certainly acts like he is. He's never snitched on them to the twins’ parents, no matter how many times he's threatened to. But he wants entirely no part of it. At all. And isn't holding himself back from doing anything with them. At all.
Either way, Ford is more than willing to help the twins explore potential future encounters with Stan by role-playing as his twin. It's the perfect compromise! Mabel gets to hear her Grunkle Stan's voice purring in her ear, calling her Pumpkin, as he sets her in his lap. Dipper is able to melt under Stan's touch, pinned down against his bed as he's called a good boy. Ford practically gets high off it, being able to express his love of Stan through acting in his place and feeding off the shared love the twins had for his brother. He gets to hear Stanley order his little loves around, for them to touch him or to touch each other. And the best part? Stanley gets to live in blissful ignorance of the whole thing until he's ready to truly join them.
oooog gghhgmy god the stan imitation and option a? completely blindsided by the heavy intragenerational incest happening under his nose, hearing an unfamiliar noise that isn't only nibling sounds. wakes up like a sleeper agent to go check it out.
cw: a few beers are drank between Stan and Ford to loosen the tension. small scuffle/threats of violence because Stan's angry, small choking scene to end the fight.
Stan tried to go to bed, but the noise upstairs... It was like a sixth sense that something was going wrong. There's a voice up there that shouldn't be. He heard the unfamiliarity as he tiptoed up those squeaky attic stairs, almost like a grainy voice as he approached the twin's bedroom. It's paired with giggles and light gasps, so Stan's instinct is that they're playing around with magic again.
Cracking a slow peek in the door, just to check on them, Stan didn't make a sound. The strange thing he'd heard was deeper, a voice not belonging to the kids. Speaking of, he fought hard to see what exactly they were doing, both on Mabel's bed in their skimmies and over something-
"Fuck, kids, you're gonna be the end of me."
His own voice struck him in an uncomfortable way, only then does he see two large hands wrap around each of their waists, stroking down to their hips. Stan didn't dare breathe, not believing he counted six fingers on each hand.
Their niece's sweet voice teased, "No dying yet, we want to make you feel good."
"Yeah, besides," their nephew's voice came out breathy, excited, "We wanna keep you forever."
Heart beating like a hammer in his chest, he watched. Because there's no fucking way that's Ford. The kids must've cloned his brother, and y'know, are doing teenager stuff. It's extremely weird, but it's not like he didn't do similar at his age. Later he'll have to unpack the totally unrelated can of worms that is getting it on with your sibling involved.
So now he's listening. Because he's got to make sure that isn't Ford. Well, it can't be, but still. The hands disappear behind the twins, and more of those light moans were heard.
"We shouldn't be doin' this, but at least you're safe with me-"
Oh, no. Something didn't sit right with how whatever said that. So he barged in, leaving the door wide open. The figure sat up, three sets of eyes saucer in on him, mortified and mouths agape.
"Kids, we need to talk. And you," He pointed at the figure they were sitting on, it wore Ford's face like a perfect glove, "get out before I make you."
Mabel and Dipper didn't move, stuck from the anxiety of being caught. The man moved slowly up from the bed, hands up and face stoic. He put on a pair of Ford's glasses, reached for Ford's clothes, started walking towards the door in a pair of underwear only the real Ford has. Chalkboard equations. He stopped next to Stan, "I can explain later if you'll let me."
Stan could say a million different ways he wanted to pummel him into the ground for thinking this was okay. There's a last resort passphrase they used as kids just in case of body snatchers. He's looking for the reaction to the question, not the answer. It'll speak louder than words.
"Password?"
Ford blinked, eyes widening before frowning, scowling shamefully, remembering. "Super Nerd-ova. Before you get upset-"
Hand darting up to wrap firmly around his throat, Stan held his airway closed as a gentle threat. "I don't want to hear it right now. Wait for me in the car."
Unsurprised and unphased, Ford nodded and Stan released him, solemnly walking out the door. Steps echoing down the stairs, it haunted him as much as the next part will. Slowly, he turned his head to his great niece and nephew, eyebrows tucked in and breaths uneven, panicked.
Dipper was in front, blocking Mabel from his view. Almost young adults, still teenagers. He started first, voice pitched and shaky, "Grunkle Stan, I-I'm sorry, it's our fault and it's complicated to explain-"
Jaw tight, Stan sighed through his nose long and hard. "Make it simple for me. What the hell were you doing with him?"
"Uh, I know you're upset but we have a very good reason-"
"We? Who's we? Who's idea was it?"
Mabel's head peeked out from behind her brother's shoulder, "Me! I wanted this, Dipper did too. It's because-"
Indiscriminatory with his glare, he pointed at both as he spoke, "Oh no, no, nnnno. You both shouldn't be doing this in the first place, much less with fucking Ford involved! Again, what was he doing with you?"
To his surprise, Dipper squared his shoulders, "We explained a lot of stuff. I think you'd do better finding out from him."
Mabel chimed in too quick, "And besides, we found out about stuff too, like when you and Ford played aliens and pirates." The kids don't miss the eyes widening, the slack jaw and awe before composing into anger.
Shaking his head, Stan snapped his attention go his misguided nephew, "You, go sleep on the couch tonight. If you're in the same room when I come back you're both grounded."
Turning on his heel he booked it, blinded by the thoughts of what he's seen. At least his anger is directed mostly at Ford. Pounding down the stairs felt like nothing under his feet, numbed by the years of taking them through different mental states, like this one. Wondering if he's committing fratricide tonight, he grabbed a couple of sodas from the fridge, anticipating the amount of talking or yelling in their near future. Grabbing his keys and wallet from his office, Stan's adrenaline got him to the car in what felt like very few seconds.
Prying the old handle of his car open, he slammed the door getting in and threw the sodas at his static passenger. Not a word was said as Stan pulled out and onto the road, silence caved the sinkhole of their relationship deeper and deeper. At least in Stan's mind. Old paved roads passed in the darkness, trees crisping the outskirts of our vision. Ford probably thought it was another hiccup in their continual repatching between them. It'll be entertaining to see how his brother tries to excuse himself from blame this time.
Halfway to their destination, Ford piped up so casually Stan almost hit the breaks. But he needed to control his anger. He's not like Dad. "Where are we going?"
His grip on the steering wheel squeaked as it tightened further. "You'll see." And that gave Ford enough signal to shut his mouth the rest of the way there.
A couple minutes later they turn down a dirt road, not very long after was the lake. Clouds made it darker tonight, barely any shine from the moon, and it's humid yet cool enough to tolerate.
Stan parked, barking instructions at Ford and swinging his door open, "Get out, follow me," and popped the trunk too. There's a pack of beers he grabbed, before heading to the dock. Footsteps follow faithfully behind him.
They sit at the end, Stan's legs hanging off while Ford's are safely crossed underneath him. Handing him a beer, it's obvious Ford's uncomfortable with the awkwardness and facing it head on. Not that Stan cared. Cracking open his beer and his soda both echoed across the water.
"You better finish at least one before we talk." He wanted the truth, but at least they could be relaxed for it before he beats the shit out of him.
"How many are you having?"
Stan glared over at him, suspecting that he's concerned with under the influence driving, but Ford glanced at the other two cans. Huh, yeah, he's probably way more nervous not knowing how the night will turn out too. He shrugged, "Half. You can have the rest."
To his surprise, Ford drained it within ten seconds, crunching the empty can back into the cardboard box. Interesting.
Moments of silence pass as Stan got up to speed. There's no speaking unless he spoke first, and he wanted it that way. About halfway through his third can is when Stan thought about jumping in the lake to see if an actual gobblewonker will eat him. But alas.
"So what the fuck?" Stan gritted out, sounding more upset than he meant to.
"I don't know what you mean."
"Yeah you do, you absolute twat. What were you doing with them?"
Groaning in frustration, Ford cleared his third can before responding. "Taking initiative of the inevitable."
Stan's a bit taken aback by that one, "My turn; I don't know what you mean," mimicking his twin's voice to put him on edge. It worked, since his twin's shoulders scrunched, frowning in a different direction.
"Okay, Stan. I was playing a role as you, I'll admit it. It was by their request, and I can't say I don't get enjoyment out of it."
Both of them were getting a little buzzed at that point. "Hmm. Hmmmm. You um, you don't say? So- So you like fucking our niece and nephew, keeping under my nose and you like being me while doing it. What kind of sick fuck-" Stan realized he'd been yelling by the end, stopping himself. It's not worth getting worked up over if he's just gonna kill him in the end-
Without a hint of apology in his voice, Ford went on his spiel, "They're infatuated with you like we were infatuated with each other. It's the same thing. One day a few months ago, I caught them both crying out in the woods. Hormones and such I assumed, but they felt they were sick and vile and weird. I asked them to explain what was causing such distress. You know what they told me?"
"Not that it matters, but they're still kids."
"They'd said they couldn't stop thinking about you, how wonderful you are, even your horrible habits. They'd-" Ford pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses, "thought that if, if they asked around they could find a dimension with a Stan that could love them back like that with less remorse. I said, wanting to escape is one thing, actually leaving is another. And I told them it was ridiculously dangerous to travel in space."
Stan was silent, continually looking across the water.
"Dipper begged for me to fix it, to get them to stop thinking of you like that. I simply said I don't know a lot about attraction, but I do know that you shouldn't stop letting go, but direct your attention until it has no value. Mabel said they had tried everything to stop, so many guilty nights crawling into one another's beds. At one point, Dipper begged me to erase parts of their memory, and I told them I'd find a solution.
"My solution was to find out if they had been cursed, infected, sick, poisoned, subconsciously overtaken by some other magnificent force. I ran into so many things I could try, so over a month, I did. I looked for external or internal ticks, parasites, from here or space or otherwise. Countless blood tests. No results.
"I've tested and analyzed everything I could. I even got a space station to send a nurse to check for all sorts of things, things I could not account for and more. I did the same for you when you were sleeping, not paying attention, making sure you didn't have any sort of curse or condition yourself attracting them and me to you. Everything again, is fine. It's simply... A psychological caveat."
"Cool story, Ford. Were you ever gonna tell me?"
"Not until we had um, well, hold on. After all the testing, about four months ago, they'd had enough. I'd gone to great lengths for no results, I was frustrated for them. Tired of the same dull answer. They'd discussed an uncouth idea, but were scared to share. Can you guess where this is heading?"
"Not a clue. Continue."
"The idea was that if they could use a substitute in place of you, maybe they could get over their attraction. I called bullshit, I knew they were looking at me strangely, too shy and too confident with their words. I asked them to make it plain and clear how they felt about me. They felt the same attraction, only a hair lesser. I caved... We've been working on ways to leave you hints, at some point we were going to mention it. Now you can shoot the messenger."
At last, Stan had remembered something he could comment on. "They were gonna leave? How?"
"Exactly. It was a huge problem, because they'd already made a contact in the Crawlspace, or they could have taken any of the cursed doors to get further into the multiverse. Or the bottomless pit, most likely, if they tried it enough times. I wasn't sure what would happen. So nothing happened. They're safe, and getting what they want out of life."
What a mess. Putting himself in Ford's shoes this time was hard. He can't really blame the kids, can he? Their family must just have fucked up genetics.
Gritting out, "Good for you," so sarcastic, Stan squeezed his soda too tight, causing a dent. "It ends now, or I'll toss you out like leftovers."
Breath stuttering, Ford's confident Stan could do some damage, not so much commit full fratricide. "You're telling me you haven't had any thoughts? No unexpected dreams or any longing looks from us-"
Brutal memories arose. Yeah, he's had weird-ass dreams with everyone in his life involved. But a few stood out, guilt stabbing at his soul as he was forced to face them again.
The first was about Dipper, and it happened what, three years ago? It involved his nephew and his office, splayed out in his lap and top missing, swearing his calloused hands could feel every inch of his warm body. It made his stomach churn violently, throat burning with acid. Even worse, they were fooling around as an under the table bribe for Stan to give the extra room to Dipper, putting on that extra pair of Ford's glasses. Stan woke up harder than he had in years, wanting to scoop his own brain into the trash.
He'd also had a dream about Mabel after she turned sixteen, growing so fast and he'd been caught on it all day. It's not like he didn't notice how good she looked, but it wasn't something that caught his eye. Nor did he ever think it would distract him so much. Because when he went to take care of himself next, the thought of her kept intruding. The sway of her hips, imagining how perky her breasts seemed to be under her sweaters, how soft her body must be. He imagined some other woman's face, but it was her traits. He's not religious, but that night he prayed to a higher power for forgiveness.
More repressed memories of Ford came to the surface, because of course he had to share with the kids. Plenty of his wet dreams star his twin. Ones where they're teenagers and playing tongue hockey, trying to figure out life. Ones where they're older like now, fully fledged movies of what fucking his twin would be like, both ways. It's just the weirdness of how they grew up together lingering in his mind way too long. It's just a coincidence. It has to be.
In a low, almost whisper of a tone, Ford spoke, "You have, haven't you?"
Then again, when was anything in Gravity Falls a coincidence? He's seen it all connect. "Stop it, that shit isn't... They're dreams. Nothing to it."
Humming, Ford replied hastily, "Oftentimes if you avoid thinking about the truth of what you've repressed, unknowingly or not, it will manifest any way it can. Dreams especially."
"Fuck off."
"No, Stan, you can 'fuck off' and tell me how long you were watching us for."
He didn't... he was watching to make sure they were safe.
Relentless at throwing it back in his face, Ford grilled him further, not bothering to sound nice or scared anymore. "You must have seen what we had all that time ago- and you were 'going to mention it later' right? Am I right, Stan? If I hadn't been in there, how long were you going to-"
Fuck, he's gonna kill him. Scrambling his body and legs, he launched over his brother and pinned him down by the shoulders with one arm, hand gripping his throat again.
Not enough to stop Ford from choking out, "You should give us more credit, it could be way worse-" before he tightened his grip. Stan thought carefully about that. They've seen small parts of the multiverse, possibilities endless. The universe is often an uncaring place, and honestly, he's not that much better than Ford. It could be way worse.
Face turning red slowly but surely, Stan felt him squeeze multiple times at his wrists, a final 'if you're not going to kill me, please let go'. Ford was squinting his eyes trying to read his expression, still analyzing as he approached blacking out.
As soon as Ford raised a leg up to kick at him, Stan let go. Gasping for air with a bruised throat, his twin didn't take his eyes off of him. He's still hovering over Ford, palms on the worn and splintered wood near his face and under his arm, wondering what the hell to do next. Everything's been flipped upside down.
Stan stared down with empty, apathetic eyes and a hard frown. Watching as Ford carefully made his next move, adjusting a leg to press right up against his crotch. His mouth opened to call him an asshole or something again, but Stan's hard.
If they're playing this game, Stan can serve it back. Grabbing at his twin's crotch, he found his answer. Still just as attracted to one another after some roughhousing. Some things don't fade with time.
Ignoring the noise that Ford made, he removed himself and picked up the knocked over box of cans, heading for land. Stan heard him huff and shuffle to stand and follow.
"Wait, where are we going? The car's that way, Stan. Stan?"
"I'm not driving like this. Besides, I might just drive right off the road for the fun of it."
"Ugh. Fine, can we at least cut through the woods?"
"Nope."
A long hard and nasally sigh broke the air. "Okay."
Minutes pass of them walking past roads, through town, and the first trashcan Stan saw he got rid of the box.
Tension awkward, Ford chose to continue their ever-complicating situation. "So... you didn't kill me."
"Moses knows I nearly did."
"What- what do I tell them? What am I 'allowed' to do now that you know? Are we- I'm... not good at this part. I can only assume we're starting out slow-"
"Yes, nerd-for-brains, yes. Slower than molasses."
Walk long and silent after that, they got back at around midnight. Stan told Dipper to go back upstairs from his locked in state of paranoia glued to the TV. He'd also said not to worry about it, Ford will explain in the morning.
To end the day, Stan dragged Ford along to his room, so they could sleep in peace for once. Just once.
lwk standip is like sooo underrated. like the way he teases dipper all the time sometimes just for the hell of it is so cute and i love how often he calls dipper "kid" it drives me crazyyyy standip i love u so dearly
