(Ford x Reader) Hickory Pines

CH. 20 Between your fingers

(A/N: The long awaited 20th Chapter. I am so sorry for how long this took- whoopsies. I hope it was worth the wait, if not, your complaints are valid; lmfao. Tune in for Fiddles and Y/N bonding time. And I took some time improving my writing, so tell me your thoughts!)

Y/N POV

It's been a month since Fiddleford moved in, and things are tense. All of us are introverts, and we're struggling to adjust.

My gaze drifts through the familiar trees of the Gravity Falls forest. Stanford suggested we revisit the talking cliffs and crash site now that the TMI is fixed. I watch Fiddleford- or Fidds, as Stanford affectionately calls him- rubbing his hands together for warmth. The air has grown chillier these past few days, a gentle reminder of the changing season.

It's daunting to realize how much time has passed; Stanford and I have come a long way! Now Fiddleford is with us, but I find him hard to understand. He's incredibly shy and undeniably geeky, traits I usually adore- especially since I already live with one geek. Yet Fiddleford feels different in a way I can't quite place. There's an air of naivety about him, accompanied by the scent of blind trust.

Stanford's palm knocks against the side of the TMI as it thrums rhythmically in response, guiding the way. "Dang it-" he mutters to himself before glancing toward Fidds, who now holds the compass- "It keeps getting jammed." Stanford complains before following the path ahead. Fidds nervously chuckles in response, holding up the compass. "Says we're goin' south." he states in his usual southern accent; just another thing I'm getting used to.

I tense my palms and straighten them to get a better look at the map. Yep, I'm on map duty this time! I can't quite decide if this is a downgrade or an upgrade from the compass position. "Well, based on how far we've traveled," I muse, clicking my tongue as I trace my thumb over the pencil-marked areas we've covered, "south should be correct?"

I turn the map toward Stanford, who has been glancing back at Fiddleford and me. He nods and shifts his focus to the TMI. "Good," he replies flatly. "Is anything familiar yet?"

As his tone shifts to curiosity, I look back at the map and nod firmly. Fiddleford glances at me, gauging my body language. "Well... err-" he stammers, "I think that means yes?" He quickly answers for me as Stanford stops in his tracks, a broad smile on his face. "Least I know you aren't lying; we're already here...!"

He gestures excitedly, twiddling his six fingers in the air as the two separate paths come into view. Fiddleford and I side glance eachother before he quickly dances his pupils away and swallows, adjusting his collar. His stance is taut. "So err, which way are we goin' Y/N?" Fiddleford asks, his steps quick toward the fork in the middle of the forest. Stanford chuckles softly at this, ruffling his hair, which seems to catch him offguard, but also puts him at ease; quite the juxtaposition.

"Well, if I remember correctly, it should be left." I point a finger the direction we should head off, both of the men nodding; though Fidd's nod is more limp than Stanfords.

Stanford strides ahead, pride gleaming in his eyes, with Fiddleford trailing closely behind him and me following in the back. This guy is just so anxious- unbelievably anxious. Watching him from behind, I can't help but notice how much he fiddles with his palms. Maybe that's why he's named Fiddleford? At least he lives up to his name.

Based purely on vibes-

I narrow my eyes at the back of his head, pondering-

If he were a fantasy character, he'd probably be some kind of Artificer, just based on his mannerisms. Maybe a Lawful Neutral?

A very anxious, sweaty, Lawful Neutral Artificer.

"Hey, Fiddleford?" I whisper, noticing the subtle jump in his muscles. He doesn't turn around. His voice trembles coyly as he replies, "Yes?" He clears his throat, trying to steady it. I fumble with my hands, folding the map and slipping it into my signature purple bag.