Gravity Falls: Dreamer Chapter 23: Manly Man Contest, a gravity falls fanfic

The morning light filtered into the living room of the Mystery Shack, where the Pines family and Evalin lounged after breakfast. Stan was sprawled across the couch, flipping through channels on the TV. Ford sat in his armchair with a mug of tea, poring over a thick book. Dipper and Mabel shared the floor, Mabel braiding his hair while he reluctantly tolerated it. Evalin perched on the edge of the armchair closest to Ford, sipping her own tea.

"Hold up!" Stan shouted, pausing mid-click as a commercial burst onto the screen.

"Do you have what it takes to be the MANLIEST MAN in Gravity Falls?" boomed the voiceover, accompanied by dramatic music. A montage of burly men tossing logs, eating piles of meat, and throwing axes played out, ending with a shiny championship belt on display.

The announcer continued, "Winner takes home the coveted title of 'Manliest Man,' a championship belt, and one thousand dollars in cash!"

Stan leaned forward, his eyes practically sparkling. "A grand and a belt? That's a Stan Pines kind of prize!"

Dipper jumped to his feet. "That sounds awesome! I wanna try!"

Mabel yanked on one of his braids, earning a yelp. "Dipper, you don't even have muscles."

"It's for adults only," the commercial clarified, and Dipper groaned, slumping back down.

"That's dumb," he muttered.

Ford closed his book with a sigh, clearly unimpressed. "This entire spectacle is idiotic. A contest to prove manliness? It's absurd, juvenile, and frankly a waste of time."

Stan grinned, leaning over to poke his twin in the arm. "Oh, come on, Mr. Fancy-Pants. Scared you'll lose to me?"

Ford shot him a dry look. "I simply have better things to do than engage in such nonsense."

Evalin's lips curved into a thoughtful smile as an idea flickered in her mind. She set her cup down and stood, brushing imaginary dust from her hands. "Come on, Ford," she said lightly, walking toward him. "A little competition is good! Keeps you on your toes."

Ford opened his mouth to retort, but Evalin leaned down and whispered, just loud enough for him to hear, her breath warm against his ear. "I would love to see your big, beautiful mind in action… my darling."

Ford stiffened, his face turning crimson as he let out a strangled noise. He adjusted his glasses, cleared his throat, and quickly avoided her gaze. "Well… I suppose one afternoon wouldn't hurt," he said, his voice slightly higher than usual.

Stan raised an eyebrow, noticing the abrupt shift in his brother's attitude. "What just happened?"

"Nothing!" Ford blurted, standing abruptly. "We should get going if we're going to make it in time."

Evalin stepped back with a satisfied smirk, while Stan squinted at Ford, suspicion brewing.

"What'd she say to you?" Stan pressed, jabbing a finger toward Evalin.

"Nothing," Ford repeated, grabbing his coat. "Let's go."

Stan shrugged, but as they headed for the car, he muttered under his breath, "I don't buy it."

Evalin followed quietly, hiding her amusement as the group piled into the car and set off toward town.

The town square buzzed with activity as the contest preparations reached their peak. Stan and Ford stood near the registration table, each sizing up their competition. Stan adjusted his beanie, looking confident, while Ford fiddled with his glasses, clearly regretting his decision to participate.

Evalin approached them with Dipper and Mabel in tow, a faint smile on her face. "Good luck, you two," she said softly, her voice calm but encouraging. "I'll be watching." Her gaze lingered on Ford, her warm smile causing him to shift awkwardly.

"Thanks, Evalin," Ford said, his tone a mix of nerves and determination.

"You guys totally got this!" Mabel cheered, pumping her fist in the air. "Just remember; if all else fails, go for the hair!"

"Why would that... never mind," Ford muttered.

Dipper leaned in, his face serious. "Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Ford, don't let me down. The Pines legacy is at stake."

"Kid, relax," Stan said, clapping a hand on Dipper's shoulder. "I got this in the bag. And if your Grunkle over there doesn't chicken out, we'll show these suckers what real men are made of."

Evalin chuckled softly as she, Dipper, and Mabel headed into the crowd. She found a spot with a good view and settled in, her presence already fueling the twins more than they cared to admit.

A man in an oversized cowboy hat took to the stage, gripping a microphone with theatrical flair. "Welcome to the annual MANLIEST MAN CONTEST!" he boomed, drawing cheers from the crowd. "Today, these brave men will compete in a series of challenges to determine who is truly the MANLIEST of them all!"

Stan nudged Ford. "Hear that? Brave men. That's us."

Ford rolled his eyes but said nothing, his focus shifting to the stage.

The announcer continued, "Now, let me remind you all of the rules… THERE ARE NO RULES!"

The crowd roared in approval, and Stan's grin widened.

"And," the announcer added with a dramatic pause, "NO KIDS ALLOWED!"

From the crowd, Dipper's indignant yell cut through the noise. "Oh, COME ON!"

The announcer ignored him completely, moving on.

"Contestants, prepare yourselves! The first challenge begins in ten minutes!"

Stan clapped his hands together. "All right, Poindexter. Time to show 'em what we've got."

Ford adjusted his coat and glasses, muttering to himself. "Science over brute force… Let's hope that holds true."

Evalin watched them from her spot in the crowd, her hands folded neatly in front of her. Whenever either of them glanced her way, she gave them a warm smile and a few soft claps, her quiet encouragement steadying their nerves.

The contestants gathered at the edge of the field, where a row of massive logs waited to be hurled. The rules were simple: throw the log as far as possible. A few burly participants cracked their knuckles, their muscles bulging as they eyed the challenge.

Stan stepped up to examine the log, giving it a little nudge with his foot. "Big stick, big throw, huh? Easy."

Ford, standing nearby, murmured, "Stan, this requires proper leverage and momentum, not bravado."

Stan smirked. "Leverage? Momentum? Nah. You're overthinking it!"

One by one, the competitors hurled their logs, some managing impressive distances. Then it was Stan's turn.

Stan sauntered to the starting line, sizing up the hefty log. His confidence radiated as he muttered, "Piece of cake."

He bent down to grab the log but stopped halfway, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Nah, too simple," he muttered to himself, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

Stan took a step back, cracked his knuckles, and then began spinning. At first, it was a slow rotation, but he quickly gained speed, twirling like a human tornado with the log clenched tightly in his hands. "Just need a little... more!"

The crowd watched in awe and a bit of confusion as Stan became a blur of spinning limbs. Finally, with a mighty yell, he let the log fly.

It soared through the air, wobbling slightly before crashing down… right into the concession stand, sending popcorn and hot dogs flying everywhere.

Stan dusted off his hands, puffed out his chest, and called out triumphantly, "Nailed it!"

The crowd burst out in laughter.

"Grunkle Stan, you just destroyed the snack stand!" Mabel shouted over the roar.

"Creative use of centrifugal force," Dipper added with a grin.

Stan waved them off. "Eh, they've got insurance."

Ford sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as Evalin clapped lightly from her spot in the crowd. She gave Stan an encouraging smile, though her eyes glinted with amusement at the chaos he caused.

"Hard act to follow," Ford muttered under his breath as he stepped up for his turn.

Ford stepped up to the log throwing line, carefully adjusting his prototype strength-enhancing glove. The device was a little bulky, with exposed wiring and faintly glowing circuits that hummed softly as he activated it.

"No rules," he murmured to himself. "So why not level the playing field with a little applied science?"

The crowd watched as Ford approached the log, now the smallest man in the competition but clearly the most confident. With the glove powered on, he bent down and effortlessly lifted the massive log with one hand.

The crowd gasped. Even Stan's jaw dropped.

"Show-off," Stan muttered, but he couldn't help being impressed.

Evalin watched intently from the crowd, her lips quirking into a proud smile.

Ford positioned himself, calculating the trajectory in his mind. "Angle of release, optimal velocity… this should do it." He wound back and hurled the log into the air with startling force.

The log soared higher and higher… and higher.

The crowd craned their necks, squinting against the sun.

"Where'd it go?" one man asked.

"It's… gone?" someone else said in disbelief.

Ford adjusted his glasses and looked upward, frowning slightly. "It appears I miscalculated the glove's output… and the log's mass…"

The judges huddled together, whispering furiously. Finally, one of them stood and pointed to Ford. "Disqualified. No one can measure the distance of an object that's vanished into the stratosphere!"

The crowd roared with laughter, and Evalin couldn't suppress a chuckle as Ford stood frozen, blinking in shock.

Stan clapped Ford on the back. "Great job, genius. You didn't just throw the log! You sent it to another dimension!"

Ford scowled, his face burning as he powered off the glove. "At least I succeeded in throwing it, unlike someone who turned their log into a concession stand."

Stan grinned. "Touche."

"Well," Ford said, adjusting his glove and brushing off his coat as they walked back to the sidelines, "I'd call that an unqualified success. Not only did I achieve an unprecedented launch velocity, but I also gathered valuable data for further refining the glove's design."

Stan raised an eyebrow. "Unqualified success? That log's probably orbiting the moon by now."

Ford smirked, holding his chin high. "Better than smashing a concession stand. Science, Stanley, is about pushing boundaries and learning from the results; expected or otherwise."

Stan rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a grin. "Yeah, yeah. You keep telling yourself that, Einstein."

Evalin, catching the exchange from her spot in the crowd, gave Ford a warm smile and an approving nod, her quiet encouragement fueling his pride.

"For now," Stan added, eyeing the remaining challenges and cracking his knuckles. "Let's see if your science can keep up with my raw talent."

"Don't underestimate precision and strategy," Ford countered with a small, competitive grin.

The brothers made their way back to the sidelines, both feeling a renewed sense of determination as the next challenge loomed.

The scent of smoky barbecue filled the air as the next challenge was announced: a meat-eating contest. A long table laden with ribs, brisket, and piles of chicken wings stood in the center of the square, ready to test the stomachs of the bravest men.

Stan was already tying a napkin around his neck, his eyes gleaming with determination. "Now this is a real man's challenge!" he declared, rubbing his hands together. "Nobody out-eats Stan Pines!"

The whistle blew, and Stan went to work, tearing through ribs like a machine. BBQ sauce smeared across his face and hands like war paint. The crowd cheered, Evalin included, though her applause was softer and more reserved.

Ford, however, stood off to the side, arms crossed, his expression unimpressed.

Evalin saw him and wandered over, tilting her head. "Not joining in?" she asked.

Ford shook his head firmly. "Absolutely not. It's barbaric. I refuse to degrade myself by gorging on food like some kind of savage."

Evalin's smile grew faintly as she considered his words. "You know, I think that's good," she said softly, her voice cutting through the distant cheers.

Ford blinked, caught off guard. "You do?"

She nodded, her gaze steady. "It means you have good boundaries; principles you're willing to stand by. That makes you more manly than anyone else here."

Ford's cheeks flushed slightly at her words. "Well… I appreciate that," he said, adjusting his glasses.

Evalin leaned against his arm, resting her head lightly against his shoulder as the two of them watched Stan devour another pile of ribs. The sight of Stan raising a triumphant fist, his mouth still full, made Evalin chuckle softly.

"You've got to admit," Evalin murmured, "he's certainly enthusiastic."

Ford sighed but couldn't help a faint smile. "That's one way to put it."

Stan caught sight of them from the table, pointing a saucy rib in their direction. "Don't just stand there being all cute! Witness greatness! Nobody out-eats Stan Pines!"

Ford rolled his eyes, and Evalin's soft laughter filled the air as the challenge continued.

The ax-throwing setup looked daunting: a series of thick wooden targets, each painted with concentric circles leading to a bright red bull's-eye. Contestants stepped up one by one, hefting their axes and taking their shots. Most of them missed the target entirely or managed only a weak thud near the outer rings.

Stan rolled his shoulders, grabbing his ax with an air of confidence. "Piece of cake," he muttered, swaggering up to the throwing line.

Evalin watched him from the crowd, giving him a small clap when he glanced back. "You've got this, Stan," she called, her voice quiet but steady.

Stan grinned and let the ax fly. It whirled through the air… and disappeared into the concession stand, embedding itself firmly into the log he had thrown there earlier.

The crowd roared with laughter, and Stan threw up his hands. "Hey, at least I'm consistent!"

Ford sighed, stepping up next. "Let's see if logic can triumph over chaos for once," he murmured to himself.

He carefully adjusted his stance, mentally calculating the trajectory. Instead of throwing directly, Ford aimed the ax at the ground just in front of the target. With a precise flick of his wrist, the ax ricocheted off the ground, spinning upward to strike the very edge of the bull's-eye.

For a moment, the entire square fell silent.

Then the crowd erupted into cheers, their amazement palpable.

"Whoa!" Mabel shouted, jumping up and down. "That was AWESOME!"

Dipper stood frozen for a moment before pumping his fist in the air. "SCIENCE WINS!"

Evalin couldn't contain her excitement, bouncing slightly in her seat with a wide smile. Her eyes sparkled as she clapped more enthusiastically than she had all day.

Ford turned to see his family cheering, his gaze settling on Evalin's delighted expression. A soft, embarrassed smile crossed his face as he adjusted his glasses and gave a small, awkward wave to the crowd before walking off the stage.

"Show-off," Stan grumbled, but there was an edge of pride in his voice.

As the Pines family piled into Stan's car, the chatter about the contest filled the car. The golden sunset bathed the road as they drove back toward the Mystery Shack.

"I still can't believe Manly Dan hit two bull's-eyes at the same time," Dipper said, shaking his head in awe. "That guy's a beast."

"And don't forget the log throw," Mabel added, leaning forward in her seat. "He set a new town record! That thing must've flown, like, a hundred miles."

Stan threw up a hand, leaning against the steering wheel with a huff. "Yeah, yeah, big deal. He's got biceps the size of a tree trunk. I still say my concession-stand technique was more creative."

Dipper smirked. "If by 'creative,' you mean 'disastrous.'"

"Hey, kid, I don't see you tossing logs into orbit!" Stan shot back.

Mabel giggled. "That's Grunkle Ford's department."

Evalin sat quietly in the backseat beside Ford, her hands resting in her lap as she listened to the banter. Her presence had been subtle throughout the day, but her warm encouragement had clearly left its mark.

Ford adjusted his glasses, turning slightly to Evalin. "Well, I think today was… enlightening, if nothing else."

Evalin, sitting directly behind him, leaned forward with a soft smile. Her lips hovered close to his ear as she whispered, "Hey, I still think you were the most amazing one out there."

Ford stiffened slightly, the faintest shiver running down his spine at the warmth of her breath.

Before he could respond, Evalin's arm slid between the door and his seat, her hand resting lightly around his waist. She added in a low, sultry tone, "I think you did a very good job."

Ford's face turned crimson as he pulled at his collar, his voice cracking slightly. "W-well, thank you. I... uh…" He cleared his throat, his embarrassment palpable. "Okay, maybe it was a little fun."

In the backseat, Dipper and Mabel exchanged amused glances, but neither seemed to notice Evalin's subtle gesture.

"Come on, Grunkle Ford," Dipper chimed in. "You've got to admit, the ax trick was incredible! That bounce shot? Genius!"

"Yeah!" Mabel added enthusiastically. "You were like, kapow!" She mimed throwing an ax, then gave a dramatic gasp. "And then BAM! Bull's-eye! The crowd went wild!"

"And let's not forget you, Grunkle Stan," Dipper added. "That concession stand log throw? Pure chaos, but also pure Grunkle Stan brilliance."

Stan smirked, puffing out his chest. "Damn right, kid. Gotta keep things interesting."

"Interesting is one word for it," Ford muttered under his breath, earning a laugh from Evalin.

The car settled into a comfortable rhythm, the family bantering and sharing their favorite moments from the day. Evalin rested back in her seat, a contented smile playing on her lips as the Shack came into view, glowing softly in the evening light.

The day had finally wound down, the laughter and chaos of the Manliest Man Contest fading into the quiet evening of the Mystery Shack. The kids had already gone to bed, their excited chatter about the day replaced by the creak of floorboards overhead. Evalin, Ford, and Stan remained in the living room.

Evalin reached into her satchel and carefully pulled out a bottle unlike any Stan or Ford had ever seen. The glass shimmered faintly and a tiny silver fairy charm dangled from its neck.

"What's that?" Stan asked, leaning forward, his curiosity piqued.

Evalin smiled softly. "Fairy Wine. I thought, after today, you two deserved a little celebration."

"Fairy Wine?" Ford repeated, adjusting his glasses as he studied the bottle. "I've heard of it in certain mythologies, but I never thought I'd see a real specimen. How did you come by this?"

Evalin set the bottle on the table, her fingers brushing over the charm. "A dinner with the fae back in my homeland. Let's just say it's not easy to earn their trust, but it was worth it. I've been saving this for a special occasion, and after watching you two today... well, I'd say this qualifies."

Stan grinned, rubbing his hands together. "I like the sound of this. So, how much do we get?"

Evalin chuckled as she retrieved three delicate glasses and poured a small amount into each, barely more than a shot's worth. She recorked the bottle and tucked it safely back into her satchel.

Stan frowned at the tiny pour. "That's it? What are we, lightweights?"

Ford elbowed him sharply. "Stanley, don't be so damn rude. It's a gift."

Evalin giggled, her laugh light as the fairy charm on the bottle. "Trust me, Stan. This is more than enough."

Stan leaned back, arms crossed. "Sweetheart, I've held my own in bars from here to Hong Kong. I can definitely handle a shot of- what is this, fairy juice?"

Before Ford could scold him again, Evalin raised her hand, a playful smirk on her lips. "Alright, big man. Take the shot and then tell me if you need another in about... ten minutes."

Ford adjusted his glasses, the corner of his mouth twitching in a half-smile. "I suppose this will be a fascinating experience, if nothing else."

They raised their glasses, the faint, floral aroma of the wine tickling their noses.

"To surviving today's contest," Evalin said with a grin.

"To ingenuity," Ford added, smirking at Stan.

"To me being robbed of victory!" Stan declared, clinking his glass a little too enthusiastically.

They downed the shots together. The wine was impossibly smooth, with a delicate sweetness and a floral finish that lingered on the tongue. No burn, a sweet aftertaste, just an otherworldly perfection.

Stan smacked his lips. "See? Tastes like juice. I don't know what the big deal is..."

"Just wait," Evalin said with a knowing look, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Ford looked contemplative, setting his glass down carefully. "Remarkable. No alcohol burn at all. The fae must have perfected the distillation process to-"

Stan cut him off with a snort. "Distillation, schmistillation. I'm just saying, I could down a whole bottle of this stuff and still-"

The room tilted. Stan blinked, his expression slackening as a goofy grin spread across his face. "...still be... whoa."

Ford's head lolled slightly to one side, his glasses slipping down his nose. "I believe," he slurred, pointing vaguely at Evalin, "you... you said... ten minutes. It's been... how many?"

Evalin, already leaning lazily against the back of the couch, giggled uncontrollably. "Three."

Stan, now sprawled out in his chair, gestured wildly with his hands. "This... this is a trap, I tell ya. Magic booze! You can't trust fairies!"

Ford waved a finger in the air, his usually sharp articulation now a drunken drawl. "Actually, Stan... fairies are... are... misunderstood. Ssssociologically speaking..."

Evalin burst out laughing, clutching her sides as tears formed in her eyes. "I told you... it was enough!"

The night carried on, their laughter ringing through the Mystery Shack as the wine worked its magic. Evalin wiped tears of laughter from her cheeks and glanced toward the staircase. "I'm worried we're being too loud," she said, her voice light with lingering giggles. "We'll wake the kids."

Stan waved a dismissive hand. "Eh, those two could sleep through an earthquake."

Ford, still a bit red-faced and smiling in a way that was rare for him, adjusted his slipping glasses. "Still, it might be wise to... relocate. Wouldn't want to disturb them."

Evalin grinned, swaying slightly as she stood. "Alright, then. Let's take this party outside."

Stan pushed himself out of his chair with a loud groan. "Sounds like a plan. Fresh air'll do us good. Or... y'know, whatever it is we're breathing out there."

Ford attempted to rise but stumbled, catching himself by grabbing onto Evalin's hips. "Apologies," he mumbled, though he didn't let go right away. Instead, his hands lingered, steadying himself and savoring the excuse.

Evalin glanced over her shoulder with a teasing smile. "Careful, my darling. You might fall for me all over again."

Ford flushed deeper but managed a sheepish chuckle as they all shuffled toward the back door, Stan leading the way.