Gravity Falls: Recovery

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Gravity Falls: Recovery

Post by StabbyKobold » Mon Jan 28, 2019 2:23 pm

Here comes a short, two-chapter fanfic of Gravity Falls, a cartoon show that I find immensely entertaining and heartwarming. So of course, it’s ripe for angst material. This is Gravity Falls: Recovery, by SoulShirt, a story of how Dipper Pines returns to Gravity Falls. To kill himself. Because turning a character suicidal is the most overused shortcut for making them tragic, tortured, and a surrogate for the author’s emotional needs. Enjoy.


Chapter 1

SO im back for awhile, and im trying to get back in the swing of things. Trigger Warning: Story gets dark and deals with suicidal and adult themes.’

The real trigger warning should be how badly these themes are handled.


Dipper gripped the wheel of his truck, driving into the town of Gravity Falls. He opened the glove box and pulled out a small caliber pistol and a pack of smokes. "Spent the best summer of my life here," He passed Susan's dinner, "good place to spend my last summer day." With tears in his eyes he pushed the gas, "I just want to get this over with." He banged his fist against the dashboard, "She was bad for me... she was bad for me... but i loved her..."

“Ah, summer break. A time for happiness, having fun, and enjoying being alive. Unless you’re me.”

Dipper pulled up to the Mystery Shack, the 's' still hanging off the Shack part. He got out of the truck and walked the porch, "Hey, im home." He pushed the door open and slowly walked in. Stand and Stanford wouldn't be here because they were traveling the world, and Soos was only the manager, it wasn't like he lived here and Wendy... like she'd come into work at this hour.

Except Soos moved in with his grandmother when he took over. Wendy’s job is also in question, since the show’s epilogue showed Melody working the register. On top of this, why would the Mystery Shack be unlocked if nobody was there? Please try to make sense, author.

Dipper chuckled at that thought, "Oh wow, look at that." Behind the counter was a cork-board full of photos from the summer he had spent here. There were photos of their fishing trip, the gnomes, and even Weirdmageddon pictures. Dipper sat his pistol on the counter and pulled the pin out of one particular photo, it was of Wendy. She was sitting behind the counter, reading a magazine as usual, but for some reason Dipper thought it was the most beautiful photo in the world.

It’s also one of the most nonsensical. Not only did Weirdmageddon become a town-wide cover-up, but having a picture of your employee not working, hung up right behind where they are supposed to be working, can’t be good for business. I knew injecting themes of suicide into a kid’s cartoon would be contrived, but I didn’t expect everything else to be.

"Hehe, she was such a slacker." He set the photo on the counter and headed upstairs, "Wendy wouldn't have hurt me," He stepped up and the stairs creaked, "That was years ago... probably doesn't even remember that summer."

The summer where she fought ghosts, a shapeshifter, amnesia cultists, unicorns, post apocalyptic road warriors, oh and the world almost ended. Yeah, sounds totally forgettable.

Dipper opened the hatch to the roof and sat in the old lawn chair up there, "Ahh there we are." He pulled out the pack of smokes from his front pocket and lit one up. "This was where i was my happiest... none of it remains though..."


Of course, just look at the Mystery Shack, the town, the forest, the chair you’re sitting in; none of it remains. What the hell are you talking about?

He went to reach for his gun that was supposed to be in his coat pocket, "Ah shit, did i leave it downstairs," He stood up and put out his cigarettes into his hand, "Almost there, just a little extra effort."

I wish the author had put in some extra effort. Nothing about this sadsack says Dipper Pines aside from his vague reminiscing. Physical traits? Nonexistent. Mannerisms? Replaced with pity begging emo stereotype. I bet you not a single thing aside from names and locations will mark this as a Gravity Falls story.

Wendy jogged down the path in the forest, music full volume in her ears. She started crossing where the path met the street when a truck zoomed past her and almost hit her, "WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING MOTHER FUCKER!" Wendy saw the truck pull into the Mystery Shack driveway, which made her angrier.

And she had already wasted the biggest swear words the author could afford her.

"Who the fuck was that?" She ran to the shack and saw a tall man walk into the mystery shack with a gun. "Oh my god, he's gonna rob the mystery shack!"

By threatening all those people that aren’t at work.

She stealthily approached his truck and found a broken bottle in the parking lot. She stabbed it into his back tires, "There, now he won't get away." She slowly walked to the door, bottle in hand ready to strike.

Sure, Wendy, ruin the guy’s tires for doing open carry. It’s not like calling the police on your cell phone should have been your first choice.

Dipper walked back down the creaky stairs, a hissing sound came from outside, "Huh, snake fight outside." He walked to the counter and picked up the pistol, "There you are," Wendy, behind the door, thought this line was meant for her. She took a deep breath and busted through the door and tackled Dipper to the floor. "I GOT YOU..." She looked down to see Dipper, "dirtbag?" Dipper looked up at her, "Wendy?!" Wendy got off of him and threw the bottle on the floor, "Dipper! When did you get back in town?"

“And where did you learn to drive, mother fucker?”

He put the pistol back into his jacket pocket, trying his best to hide it from her, "Oh not long, i literally just got here." Wendy looked at him for a moment, "You look like shit." She wasn't wrong, he was unshaven, he had huge bags under his eyes, and his face was covered in dirt.

The three signs of depression: Neglected personal hygiene, loss of sleep, and a mud mask.

"Wow. Haven't been here for what? Five years? This is the greeting i get?" He chuckled nervously, "Im just joking." Wendy hugged his neck, "I did miss ya, dork." Dipper took his hands out of his pockets, "Yeah, i missed you too." He wrapped his arms tight around her, almost as if she was going to vanish. He started shaking, "Wendy Im sorry..." She pulled away but kept her hands around his neck, "About almost hitting me? Don't even worry about it..." Dipper shook his head, "No..." He pulled out the pistol and put it to his temple, "i can't live with this... with her... with it..."

Maybe Dipper should have gone with, “I’m sorry I’m going to blow my brains out in front of you, Wendy. I hope the mental trauma won’t bother you too much.” Really, for as serious a topic as suicide is, I’m finding the current events rather hilarious.

Wendy held her breath as Dipper pulled the hammer. "She destroyed me... hurt me... left me to die..." His finger neared the trigger, "Im just glad, i got to say good-" Wendy head butted Dipper, knocking him out cold.

"Where am I?" Dipper sat on his couch, back in Piedmont. His apartment's corners were moldy, and there were discarded liquor bottles laying around the floor. "Oh god... not here... anywhere but here..."

A nonsensical dream flashback for exposition purposes. Because it will torment the protagonist more while simultaneously catch the readers up to speed.

The door burst open, and a tall black haired woman walked through. Dipper grabbed his arms and held them tightly to him, "Hi, sweetie." She grunted and sat next to him on the couch, "So um... how was your day?" She looked over at him, "Good, till i came home and was interrogated relentlessly." She smacked the back of his head, knocking off his hat. "So bitch, whatcha makin for dinner?" Dipper scooted away from her on the couch, "Well um... we haven't gone grocery shopping in awhile... we need fresh ingredients?" The woman grabbed a half empty bottle of whiskey off the floor, "How bout liquid dinner instead?" She chugged the bottle, "Now c'mere," She crawled up on him, forcing her lips onto his. The taste of booze still fresh on her lips. Dipper choked and gagged as she shoved her tongue into his mouth. She rubbed her hand against the crotch of his pants, "NO," Dipper pushed her off, "I don't want to." The woman laughed, "Like you have a say." She started hitting him in the face and chest, Dipper tried to block but she just kept hitting and hitting. "Now stop resisting, such a pussy." Dipper started shaking and crying.


Now, I’m not one of those people who believes that male domestic abuse doesn’t happen. It does, and it’s a serious topic. However, to depict it as the stereotypical abusive husband caricature but with the genders swapped is, for the lack of a better word, cartoonish. In fact, everything so far has been so painfully formulaic, a case of paint-by-numbers angst story. Protagonist wants to kill himself, so he goes to a place he was once happy. His love interest interrupts him at the last second, because he conveniently set himself up for it. And now we’re served the most contrived abusive relationship schlock possible, because we must pity him, dammit. Unless the author bothers to explain how Dipper, after everything he did during Gravity Falls, became a stay-at-home wimp with an abusive girlfriend, this entire sequence has all the cringe and impact of a Linkin Park song.

Back in reality Wendy was sitting on the edge of the bed upstairs, watching over Dipper. She held the gun in her hands, "Dipper, what happened to you?" She took one hand and twirled his curly hair around her index finger. "You were such a sweet kid... so full of joy."

Oh woe is he, who had so much to live for, until the author decided to make him the most tortured soul he could imagine.

Wendy's hand slid down to his jaw, the scruff tingled her hand, "Oh man, he really grew up on me." She chuckled, "Can't stay 13 forever i guess." Wendy turned completely around, and crossed her legs facing Dipper. She ran her hands up his arms, up close she could see bruises and scars all over. "What happened to you?" She asked softly.

Need I repeat myself?

At the bottom of Dipper's shirt, the beginning of a large scar protruded from the bottom. "What the hell," She reached for the bottom of his shirt, "AHHH STAY AWAY FROM ME!" Dipper shot away from Wendy and slammed his back to the wall. His breath was harsh, "Dont... touch me... please..."


Trying to get back into writing. This is the best i got so far. IT's probably shit but i wanna continue, so yeah.

It is shit, and I couldn’t stop you even if I wanted to, so yeah.


This chapter felt long to read, mostly because I was rolling my eyes at every other sentence. A thing I hate about fanfics like this is the utter contrivance necessary for the author’s predetermined narrative to exist. Dipper Pines has been away from Gravity Falls since the show’s ending, even though it heavily implied his next visit would only be a year away. His twin sister Mabel is never mentioned, even though they resolved to grow up together. And Wendy’s life has not changed an iota, even though she should have finished high school at this point. The author must achieve maximum angst, whether it makes sense or not.

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Re: Gravity Falls: Recovery

Post by GorillaGamer » Tue Jan 29, 2019 1:47 am

Ah, the classic angst fic. A perfect way for authors to exploit the feelings of their readers for extra clicks. I myself had dealt with an angst fic revolving around Ace Attorney, and it'll be the only one I'll do because it was that boring. Then again, it's not like angst fics are meant to drawn in excited readers.

Mock's looking good so far; it gave me an idea to mock a short fic sooner or later.
Jesus man what is up with you and all of those waifus! Are you secretly the "Ultimate Pimp"?
A quote from Project AFTER
Gorillagram only gets sexual stimulation from playing Pokemon Reborn and its derivatives.
A quote from Andrew himself

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Re: Gravity Falls: Recovery

Post by StabbyKobold » Mon Feb 04, 2019 1:41 pm

Thanks, GorillaGamer. I agree, standard angst fics caters to a different crowd than your typical run-of-the-mill wish-fulfillment stories. Typically, I only ever see angst when it's used superficially for cool points for a character, who really should have nothing to complain about in the first place. Its at least better than emotional bleakness from start to finish, in my opinion. Speaking of...

Second verse same as the first. Dipper is still suicidal and depressed, and it’s now up to Wendy to kiss his booboos and make everything better. But before that, she has to sit through Dipper’s whining about how he reached this point in his miserable life. Enjoy.


Chapter 2

I guess im back.


"The night sky is way different in the wilderness than in the city. With light pollution and smog, you can't see very many stars in the sky in the urban areas, but in Gravity Falls, on a clear night, every single star is visible."

Unless you’re about to tell us how the stars can’t hurt you like your ex did, I fail to see the point of your observation.

Dipper sat and counted every star he couldn't see in the city... Wendy sat next to him, watching him mutter numbers to himself and take long draws from his cigarettes. "So when did ya, um, start smoking?"

Probably when he heard of lung cancer mortality rates.

She asked, not knowing how to break the silence. "Don't know, maybe end of last year? Something like that." The ashes fell from his cig onto his shirt, "Um Dipper, you got a little ash on your-" Dipper looked down and shrugged, "Yeah." He took one final drag before putting it out on the back of his hand.

Why pay for a portable ashtray, when you can score easy emo points?

Wendy looked at his hand, almost the entire back of it was covered in circle shaped scars. "Dipper, what happened?" She got angry at his nonchalant attitude and stood up, "I mean, i haven't seen you for five years then all the sudden you come back and try to kill yourself?! Do you know what would have happened if you had? Did you even think about Mabel, or Stan and Ford, did you even think about me?" She clenched her teeth, waiting for a response. Dipper breathed in, "No, because i honestly didn't care."

I think you just established why I shouldn’t either.

He stood up and stepped on the edge of the roof. "The air is really fresh, better than the city." He dangled one foot off the edge, swinging it back and fourth, "I worked as a mechanic, if you can believe that.

I can’t believe that. Dipper made his future career plans explicitly known in the show. This isn’t them.

I brought life to long dead cars and machines, it was nice. It kept me focused and happy." He looked at the ground below, "Well, for awhile... I found myself missing Gravity Falls, i missed my grunkles and the townsfolk... Hell, i even missed Bill and his shit."

Like the time he took over your body, the time he turned Stanford into a gold statue, or the time he nearly killed you? If you say so, Dip.

Wendy put a hand on his shoulder, "We all missed you too, honestly. Even statue Bill." She chuckled. Dipper put a hand over hers, "Well, i met someone, and i stopped missing Gravity Falls so much. I felt complete." He looked up at the countless stars, "Heather," A chill ran down his back, as if he had just said Voldemort.


I’m sorry, author. I wasn’t aware this was suddenly Harry Potter, and Dipper is now a wizard buckling to the name association of a notorious, monstrous, and widely feared magical terrorist. What a great way to cover for your already obvious lacking grasp of emotions. Just saying, maybe you shouldn’t reach for similes that would only work in a separate fictional universe, you dunce.

He had to sit down, "She was great at first. Kind, sweet, beautiful, and she was everything i wanted. We went on dates, we watched old movies together, we we're perfect." Tears began running down his cheeks, Wendy sat next to him, "She kicked Mabel out of my apartment, she said a grown man shouldn't live with his sister. At the time it made sense, and i thought it was for the best... I haven't seen Mabel cry that much. I haven't seen her since either."

And just like that, I’ve lost further respect for you, Dipper. You too, author. And it’s for personal reasons, I must admit. You see, I’m a twin. I share an apartment with my twin brother. It’s hard to break the bonds you have with a person, who has essentially lived your life together with you. You don’t even want to. But even if I were to get a girlfriend, who wanted him out of the way, and if I were so inclined to indulge her, I wouldn’t kick my brother out of his home. I would move out and get a new one. I’m sure Dipper and Mable, close-knit twins that they are, would be no different. The entire finale of the show builds upon their connection as siblings, but fuck that I guess, everyone in this contrived angst bullshit of a fanfic is just a prop anyway.

He cried even more, "Then she started drinking and... and... forcing herself on me..." Wendy covered her mouth, "Oh my god," She mouthed into her hand. Dipper, with shaking hands, lit up another cigarette, "Heather just drank and drank and drank, everyday... no matter who much i asked her t stop, no matter how many times i threw out all her bottles..."

How did she pay for them? What did she do when she wasn’t molesting her boyfriend? Will this harlot ever be anything more than a one-dimensional plot device instead of a character?

He took a hit, "Well, ha, that just made her madder, and she would get more physical." Dipper brought his knees to his chest, "After a year, i just wanted it to end. I just wanted for the pain to stop. I didn't care at what cost..."

It’s called breaking up and kicking the bitch out. What the fuck forced you into staying in the relationship? Dates and movies?!

Dipper sobbing, said, "You should probably go home... im not much for company right now." Wendy scooted towards him and wrapped her arms around him, "I don't ever want to leave you."

Dipper cried harder and harder, "Wendy, am i even a man anymore?" She looked at him questioning, "What?" He looked down at the ground, "A man is supposed to be strong, and never ever get hurt... but every time i think about it, i just wanna run and hide."

There were two entire episodes of the show dedicated to this premise, and the end morals where personal integrity and responsibility. So, no, you’re not a man, Dipper. For reasons other than you propose.

He threw the cigarette on the ground below. Wendy tightened her arms around him, "I don't know what qualifies a man Dipper... but you've battled literal demons and won. You've seen the best and the absolute worst of the world. You've experienced nightmares that would make my dad run and hide..."

“Which makes it really weird that you would turn out this way, huh.”

She put her head on his shoulder, "If you aren't a man, then there are no true men in this world cause no one is as strong as you are, and no one has been through as much as you." She let go of him, and spun him around to meet her gaze, "You, if anyone, are allowed to cry. I don't think even Bill was as horrible as her."


Oh yes, I’m sure a boyfriend battering, alcoholic and sexually abusive floozy is worse than the insane, interdimensional dream demon that was going to end the world for shits and giggles. Humans can’t be the real monsters, if the real monsters actually exist, dumbass.

Dipper looked at Wendy, her face and hair blurred together as his tears came pouring out. He unballed and flung himself at Wendy, holding on as tight as he could. He screamed into her shoulder, his fingers gripped onto her like a child desperately holding onto a parent. "Shhh, it's okay... you're safe now," Wendy stroked his hair comforting him till he fell asleep.

Or passed out from the concussion Wendy gave him earlier, but why bother with the distinction?

After multiple attempts at picking up Dipper to no avail, Wendy set him up with a pillow an blanket on the balcony and let him sleep. She wiped the tears off his face before they dried, "Poor Dipper," She leaned down and kissed his cheek, and it sent a chill down her spine. "Um... okay. That was weird."

The guy is a self-neglecting smoker, who probably hasn’t showered in days, Wendy. What’s weird is that you didn’t gag from the smell alone.

She went downstairs to the gift shop, looking for the gun that was knocked out of Dipper's hand. She picked it up and left through the back door. She picked up and old, rusty shovel leaning on the wall and made her way to the forest. After a medium walk she found her spot, "Here we go."

A small hole. Only about a foot deep, but it was enough. Wendy threw the gun in and spat on it, "Fuck you."

Guns don’t attempt suicide, Wendy; people do.

She covered the hole, packed it down with the shovel, and covered it with twigs and leaves. Using her Apocalypse Training™, Wendy covered her tracks to make sure that Dipper wouldn't come and find the gun. "Step one, complete." She walked back to the shack, and sat in Grunkle Stan's old chair. Her eyes slowly drooped down, she pulled a blanket over herself and drifted to sleep in the chair.

Oh, sure, you sleep in the cozy chair, while Dipshit takes a snooze on the balcony. The balcony that doesn’t exist, by the way. Never mind that though, if Wendy couldn’t haul his ass off it, then how did she get Dipper into bed in the previous chapter? Even consistency is a victim of the plot.


More shitty writing yeaaaaahhh. If you wanna see some shitty art i do, go check out my deviantart. It's under the same name as this account. So yeah, im back for awhile i guess.

Your art ranges in quality from post-it doodles to barely passable youtube thumbnails, author. A lot of it also leads me to believe that it, and this story, was based on your emotional states. You’re improving though, and that’s all I can really ask of you.


Done. This fanfic wasn’t a particularly grievous offender in comparison with other fanfics, but it still grinded my gears in a certain way. Particularly how the behaviors of established characters were completely rewritten to fit whatever the author wanted to accomplish with the story. Dipper is a bleeding heart when it comes to Mable, to his own detriment even, and yet he has Mable kicked out of their apartment and stops giving a shit about his family, because that’s how the author needs the story to be. Why Gravity Falls was chosen as the backdrop for this contrived angst exercise is beyond me, I’m just happy it never got further than this. Thank you all for reading, I hope it was an entertaining pastime.

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