anonheart

[anonheart]

I honesly laughed at this so hard tears rose in my eyes!

SECONLY, tell me who DARES disrespect our language? I shall fight besides you, just point my water gun to right direction!

I’m just gonna leave this here, without context, unexplained

[anonheart]

AAH! Look at this! All of you! JUST LOOK AT THIS!! *faints with hearts in their eyes*

…I can't believe I have inspired something as beautiful as this. You're far too kind, my darling! And your writings are top-notch as always! This fic gave me shivers all over! How did you ever knew I have been dying for some good ol’ DarkFord content? Thank you so much!

Lessons and Warnings

This is for the wonderful @anonheart! Darling, you continue to inspire and motivate me to give that good evil Ford content. So this is for you. 💖 (I’m also going to tag @bratnsfw because this is the Evil Twin Au and I think they’d like to see it.)

//

Stanford had always thought himself fair and firm master. He provided the basic necessities to his pet- food, water, and shelter. Praises and scolding were doled out when the situation called for it. And he made sure that his pet had at least a blanket to sleep on at night. He wasn’t cruel or unfair- provided that Stanley stayed in line and remembered his place in their home. And Stanford prided himself on having a set of rules that were straightforward and did not allow any bending. There were three main rules that Stanley was expected to follow.

First was that pleasing his master came above anything else in Stanley’s life. His master’s happiness came first, no matter the cost. Second was that Stanley’s attention or thoughts be on nothing but his master and being the best pet he could be. Nothing else mattered in this life- not anymore. Stanley was nothing more than a common house pet, living without worry or cares. And last but most importantly was that he never, ever set foot outside the house. In Stanford’s mind, these were all very simple rules to follow; easily done by even the most obtuse of men.

Yet despite this common knowledge, Stanford still found himself having to discipline his pet for misbehaving.

Letting out a small sigh, he looks down at the man cowering on his feet. He feels a twinge of disgust settle in his chest, but he doesn’t let it show on his face. Stanley was smart to be sniveling and groveling at his feet, taking a hold of his ankle while pleads of forgiveness left his throat.

But today was different. Stanley had disobeyed the most important rule and ruined everything.

Stanley had left the cabin. Not for long but long enough for Stanford to find him and drag him back with a white knuckled grip in his hair.

“I’m sorry, please Stanford- I mean master, please,” Stanley said between his thick sobs, his voice cracking and breaking on every other word in a way that wasn’t very attractive. “Have mercy master.”

Now Stanford considered staying silent to watch his pet slowly fall apart at the thought of what his punishment would be for his latest slight. There was almost a satisfying way that Stanley’s shoulders would shake, his neck sinking between them as his forehead pressed against the tip of his boot in an act of submission. His chest heaved like he had just ran a hundred miles and Stanford could almost imagine the way his heart pumped, almost as fast as a hummingbirds. His fingers would grip at the hem of his slacks, digging desperately into the material and almost catching skin in his attempt to show how sorry he really was.

But he was not in the mood for cruelty, at least not today.

“You’ve disappointed me Stanley.” He finally replies after a few minutes.

Stanley’s shoulders slump in relief and he starts to apologize again, but Stanford will hear no more of it. He uses the tip of his dress shoe to push the let’s head up, letting it slide down his face and come to rest under Stanley’s chin. The eyes that look up at him fearfully are red and swollen slightly, the skin around it becoming puffy and sticky with drying tears. Stanford tilts his head, his eyes narrowing just a tad as he thinks of his next move.

He could play this one of two ways. He could be kind and merciful; taking Stanley into his arms and murmuring words of forgiveness into his hair. They would move on as if nothing had happened. Stanley would behave like he never had before, trying to avoid another punishment.

Or he could punish Stanley in the way he saw fit. It would hurt and Stanford would not hold back, but a lesson would be learned. Stanley would cry and scream in pain and fear, but no one would come to his rescue. He would take his punishment like a good boy. They would do this and things would get better in time.

Though as the silence stretched between them, they both knew what his next move would be.

Stanford’s foot moves and Stanley’s head falls to the floor with a loud smack.

“Not a word out of you,” He warns, turning around and walking down the hall. “Or it will be much worse.”

It isn’t long until he hears the sounds of Stanley’s knees hitting the wooden floor behind him. Good. He wouldn’t even need to tell his pet to follow. Their walk to the bedroom is silent, laying heavy in the air and making Stanford smile. It seemed like this would be easier than he expected.

Stanford opened the door to the bedroom, letting Stanley crawl in ahead of him and locking the door when they are both inside. Pride and affection swells in his chest when the other assumes the position without being asked. Stanley’s forehead touches his knees and his back arches beautifully, the muscle straining under his unblemished skin. He would never scar his pet, even when the thought crossed his mind. Bruises faded after the anger had passed, but scars remained the same. And even if Stanley doubted it, Stanford could never be angry at his twin for long.

Stanford made his way over to his dresser and opened it, pulling out a leather case. The case itself is thick and about as long as a yardstick, smooth and cold to the touch. He flips the golden lock up and opens the top, revealing his punishment of choice.

A wooden rod.

He lifts it from its box, running his fingers over the smooth, shiny surface. It’s a dark chestnut color, with a black handle at the end and a golden design at the tip. He lifts his arm, bringing it down swiftly and feeling a shiver run down his spine at the sound. He’d designed it himself, spending hours on making sure it would bruise, but not seriously injure when in use. Theres a similar wooden block that sits in the case and he plucks it up, his thumb rubbing over the teethmarks that indented the surface. He wouldn’t want Stanley biting his tongue during the punishment.

Walking back over to his twin, he crouched down and moved the wooden piece to press against Stanley’s lips.

“Bite down.” Stanford orders.

Stanley does so without complaint, his jaw going tight around in and flexing in what Stanford could only assume was nervousness. There’s also a sharp panting sound that escapes Stanley’s nostrils, making them flare and Stanford allows himself one act of comfort and kindness towards his pet.

“It will be over soon.” He murmured, lifting a hand to run over Stanley’s hair.

The action seems to work because Stanley’s body relaxes just a bit and he nods. Stanford smiles at that and stands, gripping the rod tight before he lifts his arm.

“You’ve broken one of our rules.”

The sound of the rod hitting Stanley’s skin is music to Stanford’s ears. It’s almost like a whistle as the rod travels through the air, sharp and clear before the resounding smack is heard throughout the room. Stanley makes a pitiful sound, his back arching as pain blooms in the area that’s been hit. Stanford can see the line that forms on Stanley’s skin almost instantly, red and stretching across his back. It’s beautiful.

“You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Stanford doesn’t hold back or reign in his strength as he punishes Stanley. Each mark is intentional and rightfully earned, Stanley knows this. Each scolding was one that was neccesary for Stanley to know that he’d done wrong. The lines start to clump together and turn into dark bruises, spanning the length of Stanley’s back and ass over time. Much to his delight, Stanley manages to keep in most of his noises at first.

“What are we on, pet? Twenty? Or is it thirty?”

Stanley let out a broken sob, nodding when he repeats the word thirty. Normally this would be it, but Stanley had ran away from him. Stanley wanted to leave him. He needed to learn his place and Stanford would go up to a hundred if he needed to.

“Thirty more,” Stanford said over his pet’s sobbing. “And then it will be over.”

Stanley let out a short cry of horror, his body shaking anew. Thirty more? His back was on fire and he was sure that he’d die if he had to endure one more strike from the rod. But Stanford doesn’t seem to notice. He simply lifts his arm again and the pain continued.

When Stanford gets to fifty three, Stanley collapses and a feeling of panic takes over the man for a moment. He drops the rod, kneeling down and pushing the hair from his pet’s neck to check his pulse. He sighs in relief when he found it, quick and hard under his fingertips. He was alive. He’d just fainted.

“That’s enough for now, I think.” He said, lifting his poor pet into his arms.

Yes, it would be enough. Stanley had learned his lesson.

When Stanley regains consciousness, there’s warmth on his back and rear. It soothes the ache that radiated over the area and he whimpers low in his throat. From what he could tell, it was a heating pad, one that Stanford used on him after a particularly rough punishment. A hand suddenly appears, pressed against his cheek and the thumb rubbing small circles on his skin.

“Master…?” He asked, the name slipping out without a second thought. His voice is soft and weak, his throat aching as he forced them out. “What-”

Stanford hushes him and Stanley falls quiet almost instantly.

“Hush, darling. It’s over now,” Stanford says softly. “You are forgiven.”

There’s something in his tone that makes Stanley relax back into the blankets and he nearly sobs.

“Thank you master.” He whispered in a shaky way, too tired to cry.

Stanford just rubs his cheek, silent and warm and there. There’s a prick of what feels like a needle and Stanley starts to feel sluggish, his senses dulling and his vision wavering, but Stanford whispers to him the whole time. Don’t worry, this was for the best. You can’t run away from me now, can you? I still love you, my perfect pet. It’s all the same. It’s comforting and frightening at the same time, but Stanley doesn’t fight as he slowly falls back into sleeps embrace. The message had been clear as day.

He was Stanford’s and he always would be.

Stanford watched his brother as he fell asleep again, a soft smile on his face. He leant in, kissing his forehead gently and stood. He’d let him rest for now. Picking up the first aid kit and a burlap sack, he left the room.

And later in the day, when he heard the horrified screaming, Stanford smiled. He’d made his point. Stanley would never run away from him ever again.

Never.

[anonheart]

All of you just take a moment to appreciate this beauty. And the mad skill that brought forth this masterpiece. I have done my small share of needle felting and I can tell you that it’s not easy feat to make something like this. The amount of detail in this is just amazing!

Soooo I may have been fighting tonsillitis for the past couple of days, but that doesn’t mean I’ve been completely useless! I finished this, a late birthday present for/art trade with @wolfmoonjournal. I’ve been working on him for a while now (like… 25 hours in total? give or take? I shit you not), so I’m really happy to be done here -^^- As you can see, it’s a needle felted Stanford Pines. Sadly, he comes without his glasses this time around - I tried everything from wool to wire to nail polish, but making something as intricate as eyeglass frames in a scale this small quickly proved itself impossible. I hope he’s acceptable nevertheless.

Based on this amazing artwork by @hntrgurl13. Thank you so much for letting me use it for reference!

More pics:

[anonheart]

A new AU idea - Now brewing

Thanks for the name suggestions @saiyanqueenreads and @guardianoflightanddarkness . They're both really great! "Dimensional Rogues" has nice edgy ring on it and "Family Fugitives" rolls nicely from your tongue.

This positive feedback has encouraged me to dust my old notes and put them back on my working table. There are many plot-holes I still need to figure out before this AU’s settings are sorted out!

[anonheart]

I'm, so happy you brought up Wendy! I didn't include her in my tiny AU sum-up, since I wasn't sure if AU already existed or not -- so I didn't want to spill out too much information at once. Now this gives me a great opportunity talk about Wendy and her place in this AU.

Wendy did escape from the Fearamid with others and also helped them to built the makeshift portal. But as the portal is finished, it turns out that she doesn't want abandon her family to Bill's clutches. Wendy strikes me as strong-filled  woman, who would go against bad odds unafraid, ready to fight.  So she would stay behind, wanting to find a way free her family, her friends and townspeople. Of course she would reveal this only at the last minute, when Bill's already banging at the door and it's too late for Pines Family argue with her or make her change her mind.

Later she will become the bad-ass leader of the Earth's last resistance ( on the American continent at least) and eventually she re-connects with Pines Family. When and how I'm still keeping under the wraps.

A new AU idea - maybe?

Alright, I’m not sure if this idea has already invented, but is has been running in my head for quite a time now and I need to get it out. So sorry if somebody out there has already made this, but I have long wanted an AU of my own!

So here are my musings:

What if Bill somehow managed to get the equation - or found another way - to pass the barrier surrounding Gravity Falls. The world as we know it, is doomed.

What if Pines family (and sue me if you must but I still count Soos as a part of the family) managed to escape from the Fearamid by the skin of their teeth, Ford with them.

What if the Shack destroyed they had to seek refuge  in the house’s underground laboratory, though it wards can’t keep Bill’s henchmen away for long.

What if, and this is much of conclusion Stanford comes up with,  there’s only one way to escape: get put of this dimension.

What if Pines managed to re-built on-time-only-use-portal and activated it just in time before Bill gets them.

 Stanford Pines is already wanted mutiverse criminal - but what if that bounty is now extended over his whole family (because Bill has influence other dimensions as well). They become fugitives/vigilantes who hop from dimension to another because the pursuing Bill’s minions or bounty hunters. While trying to find a way defeat the demon triangle and free their home dimension,  

 Multiuniverse cat-and-mouse  chase is back on.

[anonheart]

I can’t believe someone dug out this old thing under the debris. Also, no-one has popped up telling me this AU has already been invented so maybe, just maybe, it's secure to conclude it's a new one? So that means…. I CAN name it?  It's my baby so… yeah?

(Oh boy, this responsibility!)

Haven't thought much of the name actually. I have been playing with some variations that have 'multi-verse' or 'dimension-hopping' related stuff in them but nothing have stuck so far.

I'm open for suggestions though!

A new AU idea - maybe?

Alright, I’m not sure if this idea has already invented, but is has been running in my head for quite a time now and I need to get it out. So sorry if somebody out there has already made this, but I have long wanted an AU of my own!

So here are my musings:

What if Bill somehow managed to get the equation - or found another way - to pass the barrier surrounding Gravity Falls. The world as we know it, is doomed.

What if Pines family (and sue me if you must but I still count Soos as a part of the family) managed to escape from the Fearamid by the skin of their teeth, Ford with them.

What if the Shack destroyed they had to seek refuge  in the house’s underground laboratory, though it wards can’t keep Bill’s henchmen away for long.

What if, and this is much of conclusion Stanford comes up with,  there’s only one way to escape: get put of this dimension.

What if Pines managed to re-built on-time-only-use-portal and activated it just in time before Bill gets them.

 Stanford Pines is already wanted mutiverse criminal - but what if that bounty is now extended over his whole family (because Bill has influence other dimensions as well). They become fugitives/vigilantes who hop from dimension to another because the pursuing Bill’s minions or bounty hunters. While trying to find a way defeat the demon triangle and free their home dimension,  

 Multiuniverse cat-and-mouse  chase is back on.

[anonheart]

This is a thing of beaty.

Look at those details.Look at that grin! Those curly curls! THAT TINY BOWTIE! Don’t you dare to argue with me this isn’t a masterpiece! I’ll put you down!

...Could it be possible to have this dashing figure next to a tinderbox or something to give out the scale? n.n

Here he is! A needle felted human Bill Cipher, based on @rustedqueen‘s design which just might be my favorite human Bill out there. Dat sass and class (⺣◡⺣)♡ I gotta say he’s the most gorgeous and intricate needle felted creature I’ve done so far, I’m mad proud! Took a good week to make, too. Worth it. ::clenches fist::

Psst! I’m always open for commissions/art trades/requests on what to needle felt next B)

More pics:

[anonheart]

Mah snow-boys will have show-down with ur snow-demon!

BRING IT!

The weather is warming up so I made a snow Bill! Thanks for the inspiration go to @anonheart and the amazing snow Stans. <3

[anonheart]

LET’S GET HANDSY, FORDSY!

And so I descend to the trash pin where the rest of my beloved brethren dwells.

My Secret Santa Gift for Billford Discord. To sweet little thing  @owlapin over there! Thanks from the good prompts, dearie!

What a perfect opportunity practice some groping hands!

[anonheart]

I’m not even alarmed by the fact how horrified I maybe should be because: “holy shit Bill is eating slices of Ford with CHOPSTICKS!!” And instead I’ll just go: “aaaw! So pretty colors! Stars and spaky things! This pic is so cute!”

Tasty tasty candy guro for @koncreates who was my Secret Santa Recipient!

I had too much fun drawing ridiculous sparkly ooze

Keep reading

[anonheart]

How wonderful I was home already when I found this fic. Otherwise I would have startled lots of bypassers the way I laughed and snorted the whole time I was reading this.

The dialog in this fic is just so perfect. Ford’s science talk and his attempt to reason with Bill is so adorable!

Sooo here’s an untitled Billford drabble for @leukaraii as my contribution for the late Secret Santa event held in the Billford Discord chat. Happy late holidays or whatever the occasion is! =^^=

Rated mild M for (very mild) dubcon. Expect dialogue-driven penthouse shenanigans and Bill being meta af.

”And then he said – hold on… He said… I said wait…”

“You’ve been saying that for, like, five minutes already.”

“You-u shut up! Time is dead, I killed it… Hey, where’s my punch? Ronnie, someone drank my punch…”

“It was you, Billy. You drank the punch.”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire! Pfft- hahaha! Get it, guys? Her pants are – wait… She’s not wearing pants… That’s… against the dress code. You’re breaking the rules, Py!”

“But Boss, you said there’s no rules.”

“…You’re not wearing pants, Kryptos. You dare come to my party with no pants on and still claim to pledge your all… allieg… allegiance to me? Huh?”

“No offense, but you’re not wearing pants, either.”

“Yeah, I mean, there’s literally no one in this room who’s wearing pants.”

“Everybody stop questioning me! This is my party! My rules! Nobody respects my rules… except this guy… He’s wearing pants, see? He’s a gentleman, like myself! He’s the only one who gets me… C’mere, Fordsy…”

“Ugh, get a room, you two!”

“You know what? I think we will! He’d probably be intimidated by the sight of you pantless savages, anyway. Just me and him, we have a nice talk, catch up, bury the hatchet, shake on it, and we’ll be back to partying in no time! With or without pants – to be honest, I wouldn’t mind either!”

“Room. Now.”

“Sure thing, big guy.”

Keep reading

[anonheart]

Really like the lineart in this one OwO

billford

[anonheart]

We interrupt our regular program to bring forth some serious Billford goodness that has landed on my stash (more ore less) thanks to Dicord Billford Channel's Secret Santa project.  (love you guys so much!)

We'll be back on Stancestweek after these messages

[anonheart]

Your art style looks so great! <3

<333

[anonheart]

Where I do even start...?

This fic isn’t only portraying spot on Stan’s character, (my humble opinion) it’s also full of heartwarming dialog  that makes my heart want to flutter out of my chest. Stanley is so passionately cheering Sanford up, it's feels like a love confession!

More Than Enough

Author’s Note: This is my piece for Stancest Week, Day 1: Teen Stans. I’m late on the posting but stuff came up! I’m hoping I’ll be able to get stuff done quicker today but idek. I’m not really keen on this piece as it was done whilst pretty sleep deprived…but in any case I still hope it’s enjoyable!

Summary: Ford lifts his head to look him and Stan hisses angrily as he sees Ford’s face, his cheek is coloured an angry red, his nose dotted with blood and his glasses are cracked. Stan’s hands clench, one against his side and the other in mid-air. He opens and closes it, rage bubbling in chest as he places his hand gently on Ford’s cheek. “Crampelter?” He questions although they both know it’s pointless as Stan already knows the answer, Ford nods anyway confirming what Stan already knows to be true.

“I’m gonna murder that son of a bitch.” Stan growls, eyes narrowing and his face scrunching up in rage. 

Word count: 1355.

AO3 Link.

Stan sighs, frowning as he looks to the clock; it’s 5pm and Ford isn’t home yet. It’s not abnormal for Ford’s chess club to run a little late sometimes, his nerdy brother often has a tendency of getting distracted and staying later than intended. Despite that Stan feels something twist awkwardly in his stomach. Stan’s not what anyone would call smart but he’s always had good instincts about most people, he’s always been able to tell when something was up from the word ‘go’.

Fidgeting nervously with the corners of a comic book he bites his lip. Stan’s not really a believer in all that twin telepathy mumbo jumbo that a lot of people like to talk about but he can’t help feeling uneasy. He doesn’t know what it is but there’s a tension in the air and he can feel himself itching to leave the house and find him, pick him up at the school gate if he has to.

Half an hour passes and he can feel himself growing impatient, his foot tapping restlessly at the floor as his eyes read over the same ‘WHAM!’ action bubble for minutes on end. It isn’t long, however, before he’s grabbing his jacket and rushing out into the cool evening air.

Keep reading

[anonheart]

It always eludes me how you can, even in a small scenarios like this one,  put so much emotional impact in your writings so that about three pages of text feels like a whole chapter. That's a talent right there. Every one of your fic is a new experience to read, just like this one. The story-telling is rich and full of adorable details that are so funny and endearing I'm still grinning because of them.  

Drabble: Pizza Face

Rating: PG-13 (if that)

Summary: Ford helps Stan with a nasty nickname,

Ford knocks on the door again, “Stanley, come on! What are you doing in there?”

“Nothing! Just…just beat it, will ya, Sixer?” is the answer he manages to hear, the restroom still closed off to him. His parents have long since left for work – his father downstairs in the store, his mother closed up in her private tarot reading room. Honestly, he and Stanley should have been long gone as well.

They’ve missed the bus and while they can trek to school, it will take a while. If they don’t hurry, they’ll miss the first bell and Ford can’t stand the thought.

Keep reading

[anonheart]

...Please excuse me as lie upon this beautiful piece of writing.

Seriously, I just love how Ford just... worships Stanley with his thoughts, yet contemplates how unsightly and unnatural his attraction  must be. And how distancing himself from his brother could be the answer to his turmoil. All while when Stan thinks how to keep close to Stanford to chase away the dishonest creeps. Oh the foreshadowing!

This whole fic gives  a nice insight how the word "suffocating" might have became part of Ford's  vocabulary when he thinks about his and Stan's relationship. I accept this headcanon!

Maybe I’m easy to impress, maybe not, but the narration in this fic is absolutely beautiful.

Fanfic: I Think About You All The Time

Summary: Stanley and Stanford think about each other. But what do those thoughts consist of…

AO3 Link

Keep reading