Teddy Bear (Stanley X Reader - With Some Ford For Spice)

38 (Backstory Part 1)

"Those were the good times. Those bullies may have been right about us not making many friends, but when push comes to shove, you only really need one. Ford's brains seemed to get more impressive every year. So did our pet project." Stan shrugged. "Sure I got in more than my fair share of trouble, but when your brother's the smartest kid in school, you've always got a leg up on the competition. The future was lookin' bright. For both of us. Till one day we were called into the office. The principal said Stanford was a genius and suggested West Coast Tech. When Ma asked about me the principal said I'd be lucky to graduate high school and I'd be scrapping barnacles off the saltwater taffy store on the dock. Without Ford I was just half of a dynamic duo. I couldn't make it without him... And now, thanks to that dumb college, I was gonna lose my brother forever. I went to the school that night. I ended up hitting the table in a blind rage and somehow broke the machine. That night my dad kicked me out saying that Ford was gonna be our ticket out of that dump. All you ever did was lie and cheat and ride on Ford's coattails.
"Well this time I'd cost our family potential millions. Thanks to one dumb mistake I had no brother, no home, no nothing. But I had a plan to fix everything."

Mabel interupted. "Oh! This story's so sad! I know what you two little broken teacups need: to hug it out! Hug it out! Hug train's comin' in the station. HUGAPOLOOZA! TWO THOUSAND!"

Stan stopped her. "Kid, will ya knock that off? I'm tryin' to tell my life story here. I had decided I wasn't gonna show my face at home until I made something of myself. Unfortunately, the treasure-hunting business was slow going. Apparently gold was some kind of... rare metal... Luckily I struck a different kind of gold.... in sales. I started with the Shammy. A blue cloth to wipe up spills. I had made my mark, all right. Unfortunately, so did the Shammies. Apparently the cheap dye I used to color them only made stains worse. Customers went crazy about that. Fortunately they were using Stan Co. brand pitchforks, which were even worse. I was officially banned from New Jersey, but with a quick name change, Steve Pinington was ready to take on Pennsylvania. I sold band aids there that wouldn't give you rashes called rip-offs. It gave ya rashes. I traveled the whole country, sometimes outside of it, always one step ahead of the law, looking for something that would be my big break.

"Whoa." Mabel gasped. "So that explains all the fake IDs."

Dipper turned to Ford. "But, wait, what about you? Did you end up going to your dream school?"

Ford shook his head. "Not exactly. I went to Backupsmore. In a place like that, I had to work twice as hard. Luckily, that's what I do best. I went from undergrad to PhD three years ahead of schedule, wrote a thesis that was nationally ranked, and was awarded an enormous grant for my own scientific research! But what to study. My whole life I'd been teased for my six fingers. But that got my thinking about anomalies: things that were odd, unusual, statistically improbable. And according to my investigations, there was one place with a higher concentration of these things than anywhere else. A small lumber town in roadkill country, Oregon: Gravity Falls."

"Meanwhile, your old uncle Stan was doing great." Stan crossed his arms. "I had come up with a sophisticated new business strategy. The lottery. Turns out that was slow going but I was in great shape, living on my own, and the best part was: I didn't need help from nobody."

Ford probably would have smiled if he was capable of doing so. "I was heading out on my own as well. I set to work using my grant money to investigate the strange properties of this town, but what would I find here? Then a giant hand grabed my car. Bingo. I began to investigate at once. I knew I'd have to record my findings. I began to keep a journal..."

Dipper screamed. "THE JOURNALS!" We all starred at Dipper. "Sorry, sorry," he cleared his throat. "Just got excited there... About the journals... Keep-keep talking."

Ford began again. "I began to keep a Journal..."

Dipper screamed again.

"Just going to ignore that." Ford moved on. "There were anomalies everywhere. And the more I looked, the more I saw... It was finally a place where I felt at home, but something nagged at me: where did it all come from? It seemed to me the answer must come from outside of our world, a dimension of weirdness leaking into ours. I realized the only way to understand Gravity Falls would be to build a gateway: a portal to the source of its weirdness. But I couldn't make it alone. I decided to call up my old college buddy, Fiddleford McGucket, a young but brilliant mechanic, who was wasting his talent trying to make personal computers in some garage in Palo Alto. Many long nights were spent perfecting the machine. It would be a crowning achievement of my studies. An answer to the source of this town's anomalies."

"This is were I first come in." I stood beside Stan. "I literally ran into Ford that winter and ended up as an assistant to him and Fiddleford. My job was to be a babysitter for two grown men. I didn't mind. Eventually the time had came to test the portal. Ford and Fiddleford delt with testing I was dealing with my own things... the possibility of being pregnant. Fiddleford came up the stairs in a mad frenzy yell about how the machine was dangerous. I was leaving in a few weeks for school again but I left early when... well..." I trailed off, unsure if I should say Ford went crazy.

Ford continued. "When (y/n) left I was in over my head, and feared I was losing my sanity. I needed help. Someone I could trust. I sent a postcard to Stanley asking him to come."

"I came." Stan looked at the floor. "I hadn't seen Ford in over ten years. When he answered he pointed a crossbow at me."