Hello and welcome! I got back into the Gravity Falls fandom and so I created a blog to unleash the sheer amount of feelings that I have about this show!
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Watchdog Ford isn't exactly known for kindness towards his alternate selves. Most times it's justified, sometimes it's a projection of his own self loathing. He is quite literally beating himself up or killing himself.
But that's only one aspect from Dimension 419"3's Ford Pines. Just like Canon Ford and the rest of the Fords scattered to the multiverse, he is an individual with many faces, and holds various relationships close.
It's ironic, really, that someone who struggles with hating himself finds some of his closest friendships with other versions of himself
[Art by @canadianno-gravityfalls]
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TIBBY!!!
@nowimjustastranger
[Explanations and unobstructed image under the cut]
The first panel is Watchdog Ford and Jerk Ford, who's one of his more controversial counterparts. One thing they have in common is just how much disdain the Fordverse at large holds for them.
Jerk Ford does not share Watchdog's self-loathing trait, at least not internally. He's always believed his own hype, more self actualized than you'd expect from a man who gets banned from every dimension he steps foot in.
While their relationship is often joked about as borderline parasitic toxic, they truly do care for each other. Despite Jerk's constant bitching about Watchdog being an emo, he's one of the few people who never saw Watchdog as his persona.
In the upper right corner, two Common Blue Violets cradle the corner and represent Jerk Ford.
Fun fact: Jerk Ford refuses to call him 'Watchdog' to his face, only using the name when talking about him to others. Jerk calls him 'Watch', or an insulting nickname about his edginess.
The second panel snaps a selfie of Anti Ford and Watchdog, much to Watchdog's reluctant amusement. Another controversial version of Stanford Pines, Anti Ford is disliked for two reasons,
He's from the Anti Dimension
And he's Cringe.
The Anti Dimension exists to be the equal and opposite to what is 'prime' (which is the canon Gravity Falls / Dimension 46'\). Meaning all people from this dimension are meant to be the opposition of all of their alts. For this reason, Anti-Versions feel inherently 'wrong' to all of their alts, making trust and positive relationships difficult.
Given how Watchdog feels about most of his alts, he's more at ease with someone as far removed from the "mold" of Stanford Pines as possible. Because of Watchdog's reputation as 'The Ford Punisher', Anti Ford, a top contender for being The Worst Ford, was terrified of him in the beginning.
Anti Ford and Watchdog have learned to appreciate one another for their differences instead of letting reputations cloud their opinions.
Bordering them, Sunflowers that represent Watchdog himself bloom, and pressed into the wall behind them, Twinflowers, a nod at Anti Ford.
Fun Fact: Anti Ford uses different hashtags on his streams to identify when friends are there with him. The tag designated for Watchdog is #DawgofWar
The third panel shows Watchdog with Dr Pine from @aroace-get-out-of-my-face's AU, Multiverse Time with Dr Pine. Dr Pine is yet another Ford variant that doesn't fit the mold of the man. And Dr Pine is a puppet!
Where Watchdog shuts most people out, Dr Pine is openly gentle and supportive, owed to his experience working a children's show.
Watchdog's relationship is much more familial in comparison to the other two represented in this comic. Dr Pine fills in a surprisingly paternal role for Watchdog.
Watchdog hated his father, who was emotionally abusive to him and physically abusive to his twin. Watchdog even killed him years ago once he found evidence of the abuse.
But Dr Pine doesn't see an angry, violent sociopath, he sees someone hurt deep down, but whose love for his late brother is strong enough to power a need to save as many versions of him as possible from similar fates.
Watchdog doesnt see Dr Pine as just a walking stuffed animal. Watchdog sees a person who's been through the (sometimes literal) wringer and still chooses kindness.
Someone worth looking up to, even though he's only three feet tall.
Growing across the left corner are White Magnolias for Dr Pine.
Fun Fact: Watchdog is not the same age as Canon Ford. He's ten years older, just like Anti Ford. Dr Pine - along with Jerk Ford and most of the Fordverse - is a whole decade younger.
Throughout the piece Copper (Canadianno) makes several references to twins. From the twin moons, the flowers coming in sets of two, and the Gemini constellation, Twins are a supportive theme, and not just for the Stan Twins; Tibby is also a twin.
Watchdog's helmet is another repeated theme. Watchdog keeps it close, tucked under his arm or within reach. Despite it's presence in all three scenes, Watchdog doesn't wear it.
Because with with, he is comfortable being himself, who he is, Stanford Pines, the man under the helmet.
Thinking about the boys going through the anniversary effect
In case no one is familiar, it’s basically when you get very uncomfortable emotional symptoms (mainly sadness) after going through something traumatic on a specific date every year. In this case, I think Stan gets extra sad (and clingy) after the accident with Ford getting pushed in the portal and Ford gets extra sad (and very clingy and protective) with having to erase Stan’s mind.
Squishing your local vampire is very good for your mental health. Also theirs probably, I dunno.
My continued streak of CountBirch on every national holiday continues, I work tirelessly to keep my presidential campaign promise and that is why you should elect me. Trust me, I’ll make Miss Piggy my Chief of Staff it’ll be great
Ford W/106 sounds a little dangerous ngl, I think STCMO!Ford should keep a close eye on him, not because he could neglect Stan anytime soon, but because the possibility of him developting separation anxiety/obsession is not that far off.
He spent his entire life with a part of him MISSING, and that missing part was handed to him on a silver platter basically, he can finally be a functional human being without any sense of wrongness and bond with his twin and best friend.
He already has a piss poor sense of morals anyway, some control issues here and there are not below him, right?
The thing is, the only reason Ford has control is because Stanley allows it. Ford would never take any authority over Stanley that wasn’t freely given. If Stanley were to tell him to back off, he would without hesitation or complaint. It’s what sets him apart from most Fords I think. He doesn’t crave control, he craves connection. The change ultimately stems from him being only half of a whole during the developmental stage of his life.
Where canon Ford fought to control his future/destiny, this Ford spent his time looking for that missing piece that would make him complete again.
“Stanley, dear?” Ford called, gently pressing his hand to his brother’s lower back as he sidled up beside him. Stanley didn’t even twitch at the touch –though Ford didn’t know if he didn’t react because he recognized Ford or because of his conditioning– he simply turned his head to blankly stare at him. “Have you picked a few snacks for our movie tonight?”
“Too many choices.” Stanley murmured, the numbness melting off his face as he frowned at the colorful packaging that crowded the shelves up and down the aisle on both sides. And Ford will admit, such a large variety did look daunting. Well, it was a good thing that Stanley had a big brother who was more than happy to help.
“Do you want sweet or savory?” Ford asked, content with observing Stanley as he mulled it over. He had filled out some now that Ford made sure all of Stanley’s nutritional needs were met, feeding him three square meals a day as well as encouraging him to splurge a bit during special occasions such as this.
It had only been a month since Stanley was placed in Ford’s care and he’d already made so much progress. Ford couldn’t be more proud of him.
“Is both okay?” Stanley hummed after a moment of silence, and Ford perked up because it was the first time his brother had asked to have both of the options that’d been presented to him. Today yet another milestone was reached and Ford couldn’t wait to log it down into the journal that he had handcrafted specifically for matters concerning Stanley.
“Of course!” Ford assured with an eager nod, using the hand that had made a home on Stanley’s back to steer him toward the candy. “Let’s start with sweet.”
“Sure.” Stanley said with a shrug, his dull eyes taking in the many products displayed. He didn’t seem all that interested in any particular thing, his gaze never lingering. It was a shame since Ford was quite eager to learn more about Stanley, soaking up every detail like a man starved. At first, he had been wary of his own gluttonous disposition, but he was able to accept it after some self-reflection.
It wasn’t as if he wanted to consume Stanley, after all. He just wanted to gorge himself on anything and everything to do with his brother. However, if Ford had discovered the desire to feast on Stanley until there was nothing left while he was rummaging around in his own head, he would’ve simply removed the threat to Stanley’s wellbeing. Simple as that.
“Does chocolate sound good?” Ford asked and Stanley made a face, a hand raising to absentmindedly rub his jaw, and Ford made a mental note of the strange reaction to such a harmless question about an equally harmless candy. Although, if it was trauma-related, Stanley would’ve had a much stronger and more distressing response. But he just looked a little uncomfortable, as if reminded of something mildly unpleasant.
“No.” Stanley grunted, drawing Ford out of his thoughts so quickly that he briefly wondered if one could experience mental whiplash.
“Caramel?” Ford suggested, recovering from the jarring shift from his own musings back to the task at hand in record time. This was very important after all. Not only was this movie night their first official family bonding activity, but it was also yet another opportunity to learn Stanley’s preferences so he wasn’t burdened with similar situations in the future.
“I could go for some caramel, yeah.” Stanley agreed, which came as a relief because it gave Ford something to work with. Each day, he got several steps closer to understanding Stanley. He wanted to know his brother on a deeper and more profound level than anyone else ever would, wanted to crack open Stanley’s defenses and see the very core of his being.
He wanted everything that his brother was willing to give.
“Fantastic! Let’s see here… there are chews and hard candies.” Ford dutifully relayed, scrutinizing the options as he tried to guess what Stanley might pick. With his dislike of chocolate evident, it was unlikely that he’d want to bother with an arguably more difficult treat like caramel chews. Even the softest ones were a nightmare to eat, sticky and uncooperative.
“Hard candies, please.” Stanley murmured and Ford nodded, pleased that his educated guess had been correct.
“What about gummies?” Ford asked as he obediently selected a bag of hard candies from the rack and deposited it into the basket. He wanted to see just how much independence and autonomy he could draw out of Stanley before he inevitably began to defer to Ford again, which was hardly a bad thing so long as Ford got enough data to ensure that he was caring for his brother properly.
“Nothin’ sour.” Stanley said with a shrug and Ford turned back to the shelves, scrutinizing the selection with his brother’s restriction in mind. His gaze briefly paused on two bags in particular during his search for acceptable options, a foreign but wholly welcome sense of giddiness overtaking him.
“You like the ocean, right?” Ford prompted, looking at Stanley with a smile that was likely closer to unhinged than excited. Stan blinked, obviously caught off guard by the seemingly random question. But Ford needed to nail down Stanley’s likes and dislikes so he could ensure his brother lived in comfort. Care that was anything less than exceptional would not be tolerated.
“Uh-huh.” Stanley hummed with a slow, hesitant nod.
“Let’s get you some gummy sharks and swedish fish then.” Ford declared, reaching for the respective gummies. He passed them to Stanley with anticipation, hoping that his brother would approve of his choices.
“Okay.” Stanley said agreeably, humoring Ford by lazily examining the sweets, doe eyes skimming the various advertisements on the package and the ingredients. Finally, he added both bags to the basket that Ford held, and Ford released the breath that he’d been holding while waiting for a verdict.
“Chips or popcorn?” Ford asked next, turning his attention to the savory side of the aisle. Stanley followed his lead, as always, hollow gaze considering his options.
“Popcorn.” Stanley mumbled, looking a little lost as he stared at the extensive range of flavors and sizes that the store offered. Fortunately, Ford knew just the thing that would help his brother.
“We’ll get a variety and see which flavors you like.” Ford relayed, already reaching for the shelf in order to gather three different flavors that Stanley might enjoy. Two savory and one sweet.
“Caramel popcorn?” Stanley read aloud as Ford tucked the bag into the rapidly filling basket, appearing intrigued by Ford’s carefully selected snacks. Stanley showing interest in anything was a positive sign because he was more akin to a blank slate, a state that he often reverted to after days of progress. Ford had yet to find the trigger, but he had a few theories.
“Yes, I suspect you’ll like it.” Ford hummed, stepping closer to Stanley so their shoulders brushed, warmth steadily creeping outward from the point of contact. Ford used to hate others touching him, shying away or outright introducing the offending party to his fist. But ever since Stanley came into his life, he began to crave physical contact.
“You’re gettin’ stuff too, yeah?” Stanley haltingly asked, looking troubled as his gaze flicked to the crammed basket before darting back up to Ford’s face. Stanley looked like he was expecting something and, based on what little that he’d been able to piece together about where Stanley had come from and what his life was like, Ford doubted that he was waiting for anything good to happen.
“Yes, I’ll have some jelly beans and chips.” Ford assured, making sure his tone was soft and warm since he didn’t want Stanley to get the wrong idea. If Ford ever had the displeasure of meeting that helmeted bastard again, he would be cordial for the sole purpose of asking if the people who had hurt Stanley suffered a horrible death. And the answer better be a resounding yes.
“Which uh… jelly bean flavor is your favorite?” Stanley asked so quietly that Ford would have missed it if he hadn’t been giving Stanley his full attention. Ford’s brother was making an effort to get to know him, and the knowledge had warmth blooming in his chest. He could hardly contain his excitement and adoration, but at least he managed to at least refrain from throwing himself at his brother for a hug. The huge smile he could do nothing about, nor did he particularly want to.
“Toasted marshmallow.” Ford divulged with a huge grin, which was quick to drop into a scowl when a shopper turned into the aisle that they occupied. He vaguely recognized them as Tyler Cutebiker, who he’d often seen at the diner. The lanky man stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted Ford, face rapidly blanching of color.
“Could I… try one when we get home?” Stanley asked in a whisper, as if he was afraid of Tyler overhearing him. Ford grit his teeth because there was no reason for Stanley to be so self-conscious, he could say or do whatever he wanted and Ford would keep him safe. Surely he had to know that Ford wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him ever again?
“Of course you can!” Ford blurted loudly, making Stanley’s eyes nervously dart to Tyler, prompting Ford to gently curl his fingers around Stanley’s elbow in order to guide him further behind the barrier that Ford’s body created between his brother and Tyler. Ford cleared his throat and tried again, his voice at a more acceptable volume. “I’d like nothing more than to share my favorite sweet treat with you.”
“What chips are ya gettin’?” Stanley grunted, the stiff line of his shoulders easing as Tyler turned on his heel and beat a hasty retreat in the opposite direction, toward the register at the front of the establishment. Ford’s reputation as the local madman worked to his advantage when it came to forcing people to keep their distance. And he couldn’t be more grateful that, as a result of their wariness of Ford, Stanley’s personal space wasn’t being encroached upon by strangers.
“Kettle cooked.” Ford answered immediately and without hesitation, his declaration followed by Ford reaching for the aforementioned chips and adding a bag of dill pickle flavored kettle chips to his nearly overflowing basket of snacks. Ford smiled at Stanley encouragingly when he noticed the man eyeing the pringles, his keen gaze cataloging everything as Stanley slowly reached out to grab a can of cheddar flavored chips.
“Could we get these too?” Stanley asked with a humbling amount of vulnerability that made Ford’s chest feel tight, he simply nodded because he didn’t trust his traitorous body not to give away his inner turmoil if he tried to verbalize that of course it was more than okay for Stanley to have whatever he desired. Ford had lived quite frugally since graduating highschool, pinching pennies where he could through college.
Ford had no idea where the urge to stash every cent stemmed from, but he’d never been able to shake the feeling that the money that he was putting away in a separate savings account wasn’t meant for himself, but for someone else. And the realization that he was a twin at one point –a twin that somehow forgot his original brother– made a significant amount of puzzle pieces smoothly slot into place, painting a grim picture.
He tried not to think about it, lest he spiral further into madness.
“Put it in the basket.” Ford heard himself say from far away, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. Stanley seemed strangely nervous as he gingerly deposited the can of chips into the basket, staring at Ford searchingly the whole time. When Stanley withdrew his hand and nothing of the violent sort happened, he released the breath that he’d been holding. Ford swallowed thickly, his voice weak when he spoke. “Anything else?”
“I don’t think there’s room for more…” Stanley murmured, his brows creasing a bit as he scrutinized the basket’s contents. Ford made a noise of disagreement that had Stanley’s gaze snapping to his face, his expression smoothing out into a blank slate that made Ford want to plunge a pair of scissors through his own hand. He hadn’t meant to come off as upset just because of a harmless observation, but clearly Stanley was used to disapproval leading to nothing pleasant.
“Nonsense, it just needs a little rearranging.” Ford smoothly countered, making a point of kneeling at Stanley's feet, trying to look as unthreatening as possible by hunching his shoulders and keeping his head lowered, splitting his focus between Stanley and his self-appointed task of rearranging the basket. Fortunately, Ford’s approach worked, the tension broke as Stanley crouched beside him.
“Well I’m set if you are, Marbles.” Stanley drawled, his arms lazily draped on his knees. And when Ford braved a subtle peek at his face, it was still impassive, but his doe eyes were warm as he watched Ford work to fit everything snugly. Ford finished in record time, tilting his head toward Stanley like a flower searching for sunlight, the knot of anxiety in his gut loosening when Stanley graced him with a small quirk of his mouth.
“Let's go home then, shall we?” Ford mused as he straightened to his full height, holding the basket in one hand and offering the other to Stanley. His brother considered the extended appendage for a moment that seemed to drag on for an eternity before finally reaching up to accept it, Ford pulling Stanley up before loosening his grip. However, Stanley merely took the opportunity to lace their fingers together, causing Ford’s pulse to skyrocket.
“Sounds good, Ford.” Stanley hummed and Ford felt like he might pass out from sheer elation, his mind replaying the way that his name sounded in his brother’s low rasp on a loop. He wanted Stanley to say it again and again, but that was greedy and he would never push Stanley to do so. Still, the gaping maw inside Ford shrunk just a little bit more as yet another wrong in the world was righted, Ford’s mismatched eyes burning threateningly as he briefly tightened his grip in a gentle squeeze.
And together, they made their way to the checkout, Ford soaking up the warmth of Stanley’s palm pressed against his own.
What if there's a Stan who tries to make a time wish that would erase not only him, but all Stans in every universe from existence, including Watchdog's own Stan because he truly believes all Fords would be better off without their Stans?
Would it be a very delicate situation where Watchdog has to talk Stanley out of it, or more a forceful confrontation? Would Time Baby or someone who works for him like Blendin Blandin intervene and notify Watchdog (since he likely wouldn't get a notif himself)?
What if as a solution Watchdog came to a compromise and convinced this Stan to erase all Stans temporarily (except for himself and Watchdog's Stan so the two keep their memories), maybe for a day or so, so he can show Stanley how worse off each Stanford is without him. And Watchdog can convince him from there not to win himself another time wish and make an irreversible decision.
Of course if Stan decided to get another time wish Watchdog would sweep the floor with him in Globnar anyway. He was never going to let Stanley erase all Stans from the start.
This Stan is obviously acting out because of his own deep rooted pain and trauma but I'm very curious how a situation as dire as this would be handled, considering it could undo Watchdog's entire mission and erase all his memories of Stanley if successful.
Watchdog always tries the talking approach first if he can help it, but if he's just not getting through to the Stan, then he will escalate to extreme measures such as the use of force or his own memory gun (which he uses very sparingly).
If Watchdog can talk the Stan into agree to temporarily erasing all Stans from the multiverse and then show the Stan the utter devastation that it would cause, the way it would tip the balance and cause more harm than good, then he would definitely go that route too.
Gotta ask, since you were tagged on that post I made about watchdog Ford and I saw a watchdog Ford on your list are you the one that coined it? I am trying to figure out the origin of that au. With all the fics I go through and the variants I am getting so confused on who did what
Watchdog Ford is my creation, yes! I go by Tibby/Tibs/any other variation, but this is my GF account and handle!
Pal as Mr mystery!! Wondering if he is Mr mystery in this universe? Or something else. Love your stories and mystery count the most! Hope to see more!!
also used Franklin brush on procreate for pic
Omg. OMG. What a wholesome little guy! Ougjdhdvdjsvdn LOOK. Striking a pose and everything. He is genuinely so adorable I want to squeeze the life outta him. Thank you so much for gracing my eyes with this! I love it!
Do you ever have one of those dreams that you take at face value despite the fact that it's completely beyond reality, only for the tiniest detail to snap you out of it?
Anyways, if Bill ever did try to torment Ford in his dreams out in the multiverse, I don't think he'd use Stan to do it. Or at least, not for very long.