PUT A SHIP IN MY ASK AND I’LL TELL YOU WHAT I THINK OF IT
vomit / don’t ship / ok / cute / adorable / sexy / perfect / beyond flawless / hot damn / screaming and crying / i will ship them in hell
Alright - so - before people start throwing things at me, let me explain.
I ship this when they’re much older (NOT KIDS! I REPEAT NOT KIDS) and I ship it TOTALLY based on this freakin’ FANTASTIC fic by doublepines - Mabel’s Dream Boy AU.
This was the first Gravity Falls fic I ever read and it has a special place in my heart. I printed it all up and sometimes I even re-read it because it’s that good. Her artwork for them is also phenomenal.
That said, Stancest has sort of booted this one down for me - because now I see the Stan/Ford thing way more than I see the Dipper/Mabel thing. That also said - y’all was warned on my video (if you watched it) that I have a lot of incest ships. I’m a trashy sinner, what can I say?
Do I have a sibling? Why yes, I do and no - we do not share the incest times. Everything I ship, I ship in the most fiction oriented way possible. I mean, I don’t know what to tell you if you can’t distinguish fandom stuff from real life
Sorry, this got more ranty than I meant it to - just, I have thoughts, anon.
Some Victories are Bigger Than Other Victories -(inspired by fanart which isnt mine)
It’s the last quarter of the game, there’s only a minute on the clock when Gerard gets there. He’s fucked, he thinks, totally fucked. But also blessed because even though he just drove back from his Grandma’s, hours away, he still made it to Frank’s final game of the season. He’s been to every one, and being five hours away and showing up in heart printed pajamas is not going to ruin that record.
When he gets there, people are cheering and yelling, not even noticing when he slips into the front of the crowd. He searches the field and find number 7, which is easy because that’s who everyone is looking at. Theres a tie on the point board and this is the checkmate. Number 7 is racing down the field with the black and white ball at the tips of his feet. This is when Gerard starts routing as hard as he can, there’s less than twenty seconds on the clock and Frank has to get passed middle field before he can even think about making a goal. But it’s simple for him, he’s small and fast, racing through the field and between defense and offense. After he hits the middle the crowd goes crazy and his teammates start to cheer. Less than 10 seconds to go and Frank has only two people to go through before he can shoot. Right when the third second hits he turns his foot and shoots into the goal as hard as he can, aiming for the corner of the net. The crowd goes silent in anticipation until the buzzard goes off and the goalie misses the ball and it flies into the net, then they go insane. So does Gerard, his best friend just won the game for the season and put their school team at the top of the regional list. The first thing Frank does when he realizes he just got the goal is search for Gerard in the crowd, and before he can look properly his teammates crowd him in hugs and what are supposed to be light punches. The crowds starts running onto the field, Gerard goes with, and he feels like he’s in one of those movie scenes. After shifting through sweaty people and jumping teens, he sees the back of Frank’s head. He makes a run for him and grabs him from behind, lifting him up and spinning him around, because he is as small and light as he looks, listening as he screams and laughs. Frank instantly knows who it is just by the feeling of the man’s hands on his waist. So when he finally gets released, he turns around, wraps his arms around Gerard’s neck, barely even looking at him first. Frank has his face memorized anyways.
“You made it!” Frank yells in his ear, feeling Gerard’s arms tightly wrap around his waist. He’s not too surprised, Gerard said he’d make it no matter what. One time he had bronchitis and he was still there, sitting on the bleachers wrapped in blankets. He’s good at keeping promises when it comes to Frank.
“Of course I did! You were so amazing, congratulations, baby,” Gerard whisper-yells, people start focusing their attention on them, because Frank is one of the main reasons for celebration.
Frank tries to tune out all the yelling though, he leans his forehead against Gerard’s, lifting himself on his tippy-toes. Which is easier with cleats on, he notices. And Gerard supports him, lifting him a bit and squeezing him in place. His hands slipping on some of Frank’s back sweat, which isn’t even gross to him. This way they can hear each other better, out of all the celebrations they’ve had, this one has definitely been the loudest.!
“You’re sweaty,” Gerard whispers to him, pressing his nose beside the other’s. He feels Frank’s hands run through his hair, pulling a bit.
“You’re greasy,” Frank shoots back, giggling a little in his words. And right after, someone bumps Gerard and his mouth goes forward, Frank thinks this is a move so he captures the other’s lips. The adrenaline rushing through him, he doesn’t feel embarrassed or scared, just kisses his best friend without any worry. And it feels amazing, Gerard was taken by surprise, and for a second thinking that he just fucked up, but kisses back almost immediately, pressing his chest and stomach against Frank. They hear the cheering stop and then start up again, Frank feels his teammates pat and grab at his shoulders as Gerard sucks on his lips and tilts him back a little, taking all the control in the moment. Eventually they don’t hear the crowd with it’s cheers and whistles, or smell the sweat, or feel the bumps and pushes, or think of anyone around them; there’s just them in the middle of a soccer field. And it’s perfect, the moment is totally perfect, Frank’s lips and body are perfect, so is the sweat under his hands. The taste of Frank’s lips and mouth are almost enough to make him pass out, the way his hands move through Gerard’s hair, pulling for him to get impossibly closer. At one point he’s just kissing teeth because Frank won’t stop smiling. And they just stand there, smiling against each other’s lips, being happy to finally know how good kissing one another is.
When they pull apart, Gerard looks down on his best friend’s swollen red lips and pink cheeks, and he’s so in love. And apparently he said that last bit out loud because Frank’s smile goes away for a second and his eyes go bigger than usual.
“I’m in love with you too,” he responds, then grins. And Gerard is just so full of happiness and love and excitement, that he lifts Frank up again, spinning him around and listing to the beautiful sound of his hopefully now boyfriend yell and laugh. People cheer around them and once he puts Frank down his teammates crowd him, and some of them eye between him and Gerard in a “wtf they’re gay,” way. But not a bad “wtf,” just a surprised one, so neither of them are offended and no one even asks about them because Frank is being lifted up into the air and praised.
Watching his best friend be so happy and successful, watching him blush and smile
at all the attention and cheer in happiness. Being able to support the guy Gerard’s pined over ever since they met, and being able to hug him when it’s all over whether or not the outcome is good. Experiencing life with the person he’s in love with, even if it doesn’t fully involve him. Having these victories within other victories, that’s why Gerard never misses a game.