#And Dipper smirking.

[tswwwit]

Does reincarnated Dipper ever go and work in medical? - as a doctor or nurse or pyschologist. I think that would be funny. I'm sure Bill would *looove* that.

He definitely could! Dipper does love helping people.

And it'd be delightfully frustrating for Dipper to try and navigate his chosen profession while hooking up with a guy who's into intestinal origami and mind-breaking. Bill might be knowledgeable, but he offers a lot of highly inadvisable advice.

[omnipotentgod607]

In honour of there now being less than half an hour on the countdown for the website (from The Book of Bill), here are the TMA avatars I think the Pines family (+Bill) would serve:

Bill: I think he’d either serve the Spiral or the Desolation. The reasoning behind the Spiral I feel is obvious; the guy craves chaos which is commonly associated with the Spiral. The Desolation on the other hand? He destroyed his home planet. He wants to destroy the norm. I feel like a desolation aviator that wishes to destroy/burn the status quo to the ground would be a really cool (if loose) concept which Bill fills nicely.

Dipper: The Eye or The Flesh. Again, the Eye is self-explanatory; Dipper craves knowledge and understanding of Gravity Falls and the general weirdness of the place. Honestly, I could see Dipper working at The Magnus Institute in future lmao (I may or may not be planning a fic series based on this concept - bit of shameless self promotion there lol). The Flesh is due to his dysmorphia, I guess. Again, a very loose alignment, but Dipper has been shown to struggle with his masculinity throughout the show. Is this transmasc coding intentional? Probably not. But it’s still there and I will die on the trans Dipper headcanoning hill.

Mabel: The Spiral or The Extinction. The Spiral just fits Mabel; like Bill, Mabel is the definition of chaos (yes, I know this is a very superficial reading of the Spiral - sue me. I dare you). The Extintion is more of a stretch in this case. It’s the fear of catastrophic change - towards the end of the show we see Mabel is scared that her world is coming to an end. Dipper is leaving. She’s being sent home to live with her parents and their struggling marriage. I feel this would make her a great candidate to either be an avatar or consumed by the extinction.

Stan: The Web or The Corruption. Ok, Stan was a difficult one so BOTH of these are pretty loose alignments. I chose the Web because of his gaslighting the twins about the strange happenings in Gravity Falls, but also because Stan is a schemer (albeit not always a brilliant one). The Corruption is even more of a loose alignment; correct me if I’m wrong, but the corruption has never dealt with monetary corruption, right? I feel like that’s a missed opportunity. But yeah, Stan is greedy. He likes money - not that that’s necessarily a bad thing, but you know.

Ford: The Eye or The Spiral. Same as Dipper, Ford wants to know all about Gravity Falls going so far as to keep the famous journals. Now the Spiral is because of his connection (situationship?) with Bill; this is another one where I feel he’d probably be consumed by the Spiral than an avatar due to his fear of loosing his mind - he could possible be consumed by the Web in this case as he’s shown to fear a loss of control. But meh. We don’t give a fuck about logistics here.

[lacedinweb22]

Valentine’s Day ❦︎ (smutty one-shot) ❦︎⋆˙⊹ ❦︎ ⋆˙⊹ Miguel O’Hara x Fem!reader

nsfw 18+ ୨୧

You come back from work, feet sore, back sore, in need of him.

First thing you notice are the flowers on the kitchen counter. A massive assortment of red roses, with a note sticking out. “Happy Valentine’s Day, mi princesa. You’re my valentine today and everyday,” your cheeks are warm. You put the note down, slowly taking your shoes off as you look around. “Forever” by The Little Dippers leaks out of your bedroom.

You walk down the hall, slowly opening the door.

There he is. Hair tousled from running a stressed hand through so many times, a snug white button up rolled up at his forearms, muscles on display, black slacks, and a black leather belt… perfect. He’s pouring moscato into the wine glasses on the dresser, he looks up at you calmly, the calm you so desperately needed after a day like today. His eyes soften as they lay on you.

“Baby,” you exhale, walking into him. “Hermosa,” he sits the moscato bottle down, leaning down into you, breathing in the smell of your hair. You dig your face into his chest. The smell of his cologne makes you weak. His hands are snug around your waist, holding you tightly against him. You look up at him, he leans down, your lips meet in the middle.

He strokes your hair, “I’m sorry you had to work today, but I’ll make it up to you,” he whispers before kissing you again. You nod.

You lean against the dresser, he hands you a glass. It’s your favorite moscato. He keeps one hand on your waist, still holding you, as he picks up his glass with the other hand. “Happy Valentine’s, Y/N,” he smiles, tapping his glass to yours. “Happy Valentine’s, Miguel.” His eyes are on yours as you sip. You put it down, then start to take off your coat. He notices and immediately goes behind you, helping you take it off.

“Think I’m gonna change,” you mutter, moving your hair to the front, as he helps you.

You start to unbutton your blouse, but stop when he drops to his knees, slowly unbuttoning your pants. You look down at him, hands in his hair. His eyes are now on your black lace panties, as he slowly pulls your pants down. His fingers trace underneath the thin cloth on your hips, fingers massaging your skin. You don’t feel the need to change anymore. He stands back up, looking at the black lace bra now exposed under your button-up. He smirks, fangs on display, then leans down into your neck, sucking gently. His hands wrap around the back of your thighs and he picks you up like you weigh nothing.

You make out, taste the moscato on his lips. He lays you on your bed, then crawls on top of you, now hovering over you, hips touching, his hard-on pressing into your underwear. You moan into his mouth, as his fingers grip your waist tightly.

“Need you,” you moan in between kisses. He kisses your neck, “I’m here, baby, you can have me,” he mutters lowly into your skin. You look down and unbuckle his belt; he watches you, brushing the hair out of your face.

Finally, he’s in just his boxer briefs, and you can see so much through the stressed cloth. “We have reservations at 7:00,” he whispers in between kisses. “We have time,” you whisper back. He moans in your mouth as you grab him from out of his boxers, and press him against your heat.

He kisses down your neck as you pull his hips into yours, trailing down to your shoulder, pulling your blouse to the side.

He enters slowly, only half of him in you. He bites your shoulder, moaning into your skin. “Missed you, Mig,” you moan, as he slowly inches in and out of you, letting you adjust. “Missed how big you are,” you whine.

He kisses you, then slowly enters, now fully, you both moan at the pressure. He thrusts in and out, kissing you hard.

It’s slow and passionate, and you feel every inch of him intensely. He groans into your ear, “Been thinking about you all day. You feel so good, chula.”

The music is still playing on the record player; he digs his face in your neck.

He slides one hand down to your heat, rubbing at your core. “Does that feel good for you, my girl? Like that?” he groans, which you bite your lip in response, suppressing your gasps.

Perfect pressure and perfect fullness begin to bring you to your end. You start to unravel; you wrap your legs around him, bringing him closer, deeper.

He sucks on your neck, then pulls away to whisper into your mouth, “Baby, I’m gonna—”

��I know,” you exhale, slowly finishing around him.

He throbs inside of you, filling you up. You bite his lip, moans filling the room.

*im drunk AF and I’m ending it here LOVE Y’ALL so much 💌 HAPPY VALENTINE’S 💋💋💋* -G

[angelyuji]

stan pines dating headcanons

18+ minors dni!!

cw // sexual content under the cut!

MY LOVE

he is sooo my man i need him so bad

very old fashioned

asked you out first not cuz he thinks he’s the hottest guy in the world. but because “you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take”

he told dipper and mabel he made that up first (he didn’t, he saw it on facebook) (they know he didn’t make it up, but they pretend they believe him)

“heya there, toots.” stan leans on your desk. you look at him, an eyebrow raised.

“hey, stan. need something?” you smile at him.

“yeah, you. me. date. whenever you’re free.” stan looks away, suddenly nervous.

“hmm, yeah, alright! i’m free tonight after work.” stan looks back at you, eyes wide in surprise, before collecting himself. he smiles.

“great, great, i’ll pick you up at 8, dollface.”

calls you pet names that were popular in the 70s/80s: dollface, sweetcheeks, baby, cutie, sugar

stan believes you deserve the world so he yk he’s treating you soooo well

he doesn’t think he deserves you, so he tries so so so hard to treat you well

he believes he’s fucked up every good thing in his life, so when you guys get together, he tries so hard to be a good partner to you

takes you out anywhere you want, even if its something he hates.

you tell him you want to see some movie in theaters, he’s gonna say no and be huffy cuz he’d rather stay home and save money. but the next day he’s gonna show up at your door with the tickets, rolling his eyes, telling you to get in the car

takes you with him to break laws and steal stuff with him

you’re a total nervous wreck but stan’s laughing and holding your hand and you know that everything’s gonna turn out alright.

he buys you clothes sometimes but he’s not up with fashion, so not usually.

any time he does, its usually because he took mabel shopping and he saw something that he thought you would like

more of a listener than a yapper like he’ll listen to you go on and on about something without stopping. you’re his personal podcast. he also loves when you watch his soap operas with him

hehehe im gonna fuck this old man so hard he’s gonna stop breaking traffic laws

sooo smooth and flirty, but he gets over obviously red in the face and its cute asf

he was kinda insecure about his body at first, but seeing how obsessed you are with him when you guys sleep together, he’s all like “heh, i still got it” and he smirks cuz he’s a little shit

likes to be on top, call him old-fashioned, but he likes looking down at you and seeing your face as he makes you feel good

he’s a man of routine, however you can convince him to do different positions or things in the bedroom because at the end of the day, you’re his everything

he goes slow, doesn’t go crazy and jackhammer into you

last time he went too fast, he threw his back out and you had to run through the shack butt-naked looking for his lumbar support pillow

he doesn’t like to talk about it, it was super embarrassing for the both of you lowkey

you were sweet about it tho, i mean, he is in his 70s and you found it sweet he almost destroyed his back to make you feel good

absolutely lovessss receiving head

he’s alsooo a giver dw, certified muncher??? or wtv they say, but he personally likes getting more

anyway back to the cutesy stuff

sometimes he asks you to help him build some stuff for the shack

you get to see stan be creative and create art, as well as fix stuff around the shack (if soos isn’t around)

a lot of duct tape related fixing, but watching him work is hot so u don’t care

i love u stanley pines i need u so bad pls pls pls ruin my life

[trashcanfanfics]

do you suppose we could have a teen ford x reader drabble where stanley teases him about having a thing for the reader but he initially denies it, but then that night he finds himself lying awake thinking about them and realizes he does indeed have it bad?

please, and thank you

Ah the parallels between him and Dipper really are great

Lunch had been the final straw. At school, you usually sat with the twins, but today you needed to sit with a partner for one of your class projects to finalize some details about the presentation board. Ford had been staring wistfully at your back since he and Stan sat down, idly poking at the school lunch. He didn't even realize when Stan had taken his bread roll for himself. Another sigh as he gently poked at the soggy spaghetti noodles.

"Damn, you've got it bad." Stan finally spoke up, smug grin taking up his usual smirk. "You look like a creep, staring at them like that." The comments made Ford flush and look away from you to glare at Stan.

"Oh please, they're just a wonderful friend. Sure, they're attractive, smart, has a smile that can light up a room, but that's just what it is. Nothing more than--" your laugh caught his attention, causing him to look at you again "-- a friend." Ford was staring again and it made his twin snicker. He kicked Ford gently under the table, his grin still smug, to catch the love sick boy's attention.

"Just don't lay awake at night thinking about them." He joked, barking out a laugh at the sputtered response he received.

"I won't!"

~*~

Later that night, when everyone had gone to sleep, Stan snoring loudly above him on the top bunk, Ford laid awake. His thoughts were echos of your voice and laughter, images of your smile, and the way your eyes lit up when you talked about your favorite things. His face had a small smile and he sighed for the millionth time that day. A sudden realization made him frown and his eyes open wide. He was laying awake. At night. Thinking about you.

"Oh no."

[ramdotnet]

ford wtf does this mean.

grunkle ford... did you eat soap.. ☹️

-🌲

I’ve been in situations.

[littlebearbun]

Stanley Pines x Reader; Mixed Priorities (nsfw, afab reader)

I just realized I never put this on Tumblr......

(tw: blood)

You should have been more worried.

There had been…zombies. Zombies, and Stan had protected you, Dipper, and Mabel from them. Now, you sat cross legged on your guest bed and Stan appeared in the doorway, suit torn, hair a mess, fez missing, lip split.

A drip of blood trailed down to his chin and he wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. You followed the motion, telling yourself you were just worried about him and ignoring the way your mouth watered.

“You alright, toots?” Stan asked. You nodded, and only then did he relax and step into your room, as if finally able to pass a barrier.

“That was…amazing, Stanley,” you said softly, and Stan chuckled, shrugging his broad shoulders.

“It was nothin’.” You stood just before he was within your reach and gripped the lapels of his jacket.

You didn’t know what to feel. Relief that he seemed ok, as you smoothed your hands down his chest. Residual fear from what had happened. And a deep, shameful feeling, one that you wouldn’t-couldn’t-voice.

Stanley had been a vision. Powerful swings of his fists, brass knuckles gleaming in the dim light of the shack, all determination and skill and…

You weren’t sure you had ever wanted someone so badly.

“…….just protecting you.” You blinked, refocusing, eyes trained on his mouth, realizing Stan was still talking. A light flush colored your cheeks. You couldn’t allow yourself to get lost in thought like that.

Stan was staring at you now, though, head cocked, eyes slightly narrowed.

“What'cha thinking about, doll?” He asked, and took a step closer. You shook your head.

“Just how good you are to us,” you said, which was true, but also a lie by omission.

“Mn,” he hummed, “I’m not sure that’s all.” And suddenly his hand was at your chin, bloody thumb at your lower lip and smearing red across your mouth. You gasped, body going rigid, and Stan’s eyes went just a bit darker.

“I knew it. I thought I knew that look. You thought just because I was busy taking care of my family that I wouldn’t notice that my girl was wantin’?” His voice had dropped considerably, resonating in the marrow of your bones and dropping to the spiking heat between your legs. “You like a little rough, don’t you? Like knowing that I can keep you safe.”

You nodded mutely. Stan pressed his thumb against your lips and parted them, slipping his finger into your mouth to press down on your tongue. Your eyelids drooped, reveling in the coppery taste as you sucked on his finger without a second thought.

“Ooh, there’s a good princess. Good little bloodslut.” You moaned, face aflame, and Stan smirked wickedly. “Thought I didn’t know, did you? Oh, no. I’ve just been waiting for the right time to call you out.” He yanked his finger out of your mouth, leaving you gasping into his immediate kiss, all tongue and teeth and the overarching taste of his blood.

His calloused fingers made their way past the waistband of your pants and he groaned into your mouth as he made contact with your already soaked panties.

“Fuck,” he murmured into your mouth as you moaned against him and squirmed. “You want this bad, huh? Want me to bloody you up a little?”

“Yes,” you gasped as two of Stan’s lovely, thick fingers fucked up into you and spread.

“Gonna look lovely in red, pumpkin,” he cooed, voice saccharine and dangerous. “Gonna mess you up. Would you like that?”

[simplydozing]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲

Stanley Pines x Reader Your husband Stanley sacrifices himself to save everyone from Weirdmageddon, but loses his memory during the process. You try to get him to remember you, but it doesn’t end the way you want it to. Word Count: 1457 || AO3 ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

Here you all stand, in the heavy wooded patch the Mystery Shack was located. The place you called home was now destroyed, bits of debris scattered around you all.

 It was a long, gruesome battle, but you and the townspeople came together and overcame Bill and his plan to take over the world.

 But it came with a price.

 Stan, the once berated and shunned man, switched places with Ford. He gave himself away to save everyone and everything he loved. You begged him not to, that you all could figure something else out. But the back of your mind knew there was no other way.

 And when you saw the memory gun aimed at him, you had to look away.

 When you looked back, he was gone.

 His eyes were so empty when he finally came to.

 He looked around, still on his knees. It was like he never saw this place before. You’ve only seen him this confused once before, and that’s when you said you wanted to be with him more than anything. He never thought he’d ever have someone like you, so hearing this initially stunted him.

 But now, he’ll never remember that. He no longer shares the same memories you do.

 He wasn’t the man you came to know.

“Wha- Where am I?”

 Your hands trembled as they made their way to cover your mouth. Your heart sank, and your whole body became lead. You were a statue, watching his face contort when he stares at these strangers in front of him.

“Who are you all?!” He falls back and scoots away from the group.

 You wanted to be the first to help him, but your feet couldn’t move.

 The twins eased their way to him to not scare him any more than he is now.

“Grunkle Stan…”  Mabel’s little voice cracked.

“You don’t remember us?” Dipper placed a hand on his arm.

 Stan shook his head. What are these kids talking about? What is a “Grunkle?”

 Mable couldn’t take it anymore, and broke down. 

 You were about to do the same. 

 Dipper crawled to her and hugged her tightly, allowing himself to let a few tears slip but keeping his face covered with the brim of his hat.

 Stan’s eyes darted from the kids to you and the person next to you that looked just like him.

 Soon, his gaze focused on you. His eyes grew wider and they shimmered like they did all those years ago when you first started talking to each other.

 He whistles, catcalling you like used to when he would walk in on you changing or making dinner.

“Hey there, sugar. Who’s your friend?”

 Normally, you’d laugh or scoff at his flirty antics, but this time, it brought tears to your eyes. He wasn’t pretending or messing around. This was his reality now. He really was meeting you for the first time.

 You look at Ford. Nothing was said, but it was clear that it was your turn to talk to him.

 You turn back. You wipe the tears out the corners of your eyes. You mentally prepare yourself, huffing to yourself and swallowing thickly. Once you thought you were okay, you slowly made your approach, one foot dragging in front of the other.

 The closer you got, the more he looked pleased.

 You hoped and prayed with each step you took that you’d jog something. Anything.

 You sat in front of him with your knees tucked under you. You swear your heart is going to explode out of your chest.

 He smiles. That goofy grin also used to make you laugh.

 You take a deep breath and anxiously release it.

 He has to remember you.

“Stanley, baby,” you begin.

“Do you know where you are right now?”

“No, but it’s a lot better with you here.” He clicks his tongue and lifts his eyebrows. If this was some sort of sick joke, you’ll slap that nasty smirk clean off his face and go for Ford after.

Your eyes start to pool again.

 Please, let this be a joke.

“Stan, please,” you mutter.

 You’re at a loss at what to do. You don’t want to believe it, but maybe he’s too far gone. Your denial just has to save him. You were his salvation at one point, how could he not remember you?

 You’ve loved him ever since high school when everyone saw him as a lowlife. It didn’t help that your locker was a couple doors down from his.

 He was your lab partner in chemistry. 

 It’s amazing how a lab partner turned into a life partner.

Wait…

 Your marriage! Of course! You are married to him!

 A spark of hope electrocuted through you.

“Stan, look.” You jump into action, grasping his hand with the gold band on his ring finger.

“We’re married! See?” You bring your hand up next to his. Your ring band is thinner than his, with diamonds lining the middle of it.

 Staring at it and seeing how the light catches it makes you think back to that day.

 It was a courthouse wedding. No one else showed up, but you both knew it had to be that way. You didn’t mind at all. When the deed was done and you two were official, he apologized and promised that when the right time comes he’d give you the best wedding you could ever dream of.

 But being with him was already a dream come true.

 A half smile appeared on your face. You didn’t need a wedding to solidify your love for him. You didn’t need the “official” and legal marriage. But he was old fashioned and wanted to do things right by you.

 Too bad he can’t even figure out your name.

“Woah. Today just keeps gettin’ better and better!” He looks from the rings to you.

 Your chest expanded. Could it be? Could he be coming back?

“…Who are you again?”

 These words were the dagger that stabbed and shattered your heart. You physically could no longer hold yourself together.

 You whisper his name one more time. This can’t be how this ends. He’s just messing around with you. There’s no way he doesn’t remember you. You were sure of it. You thought this would work. You knew this had to work. You can’t let go of him. You won’t let go of him. You-

 Your quivering body launches, enveloping him in an embrace that he’ll never feel again.

 You weep.

 Your lover is gone and there’s nothing you can do about it.

“…I love you so much, Stanley Pines,” you can barely make out. Your throat is closing in on itself and your face feels hot.

“What is going on? Was it something I said?” This causes you to hold him closer.

 Eventually, Ford is the one to drag you away. You put up a fight, stringing together a bunch of “no”s before wailing his name at the top of your lungs. You needed to believe that if you held him longer that he’d magically turn back. Ultimately, that wasn’t the case. What’s done is done.

 You scream and cry and beg whatever being was out there to answer your prayers.

 Ford crouches down to your curled up frame and does his best to console you. You’re on your hands and knees, nails digging into the earth as you heave. He throws his arms around you and mumbles apologies you didn’t think you’d hear in the first place.

 “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” fills your ears.

 You feel him around you, breathing catching in his throat and fingers twitching. He’s going into hysterics along with you.

 He lost his brother too, after all.

 The fact that he’s still wearing Stan’s suit…

 You clench his sleeve and pull yourself up, now grabbing the lapels and sobbing in his shoulder. It still smells like him.

 You feel the wetness of Ford’s tears on the side of your face. He palms the back of your head. He rocks you to try and soothe you, resisting the urge to burst for your sake.

“He’s a hero,” he rasps.

 The four of you continued to mourn. Stan is left dumbfounded at the sight of everyone grieving. He thinks he should do something, but he can’t piece together what. He doesn’t want to get involved and accidentally interrupt you all.

 For the rest of the town, it was a day of celebration. For the Pines family, it was a day of loss.

 It was two sides of the same coin, both sides being free from Bill’s reign.

You don’t know what happens next. You just hope you and the rest can work together and one day bring your dearest Stanley’s memories back.

[urlocaldesertdweller]

(Stanley X Ranger/Cop! Reader)

inspired by _heyitsjei on TikTok https://www.tiktok.com/@_heyitsjei/video/7411525022759570704?lang=en

im in love with the dymanic of ranger/cop of gravity falls in a strange relationship with the famous but sneaky Stan Pines. (suggestive, subtle mention of erection, making out, sensual touching)

You were an inspiring new ranger on the streets of Gravity Falls! You would accept any job from Blubs or Durland, and they had just the plan for you.

You had to look over a sneaky con artist named Stanley Pines. His age, in his 60s, made you think twice about this gig. Until you had your first encounter with him.

When you drove to the tourist trap that was his home, before you could even knock on the door, you heard a loud older voice scream about how the police were here in a panic.

You give a few knocks, which startles an entire argument between the older voice and a couple of younger voices within the home. After a couple more minutes of waiting and making sure you look clean from your hat and ranger pin, the door opens.

A young girl with a nervous smile looks up at you, and then when looking up, you see what you believe is Stanley, who looks clearly uncomfortable and is forced by the little girl to come and answer the door. She quickly introduces herself as Mabel, stepping aside to let Stanley enter the doorway and take a good look at you.

You didn't look intimidating as you smiled with a warm greeting for a ranger. Mabel relaxes with your first moment of greeting, and then you explain why you are here. To keep a close eye on Stanley Pines for a while, by orders of Sheriff Blubs.

Stanley's nervous grin falls into a frown as he scratches his back, groaning that he's basically going into a glorified retirement watch by a cop. With a mild eye twitch, you extend your hand to shake hands. Mabel elbows his side, and he sighs and takes your hand in shaking it. What surprises you is him pulling you in patting you on the back and whispering this.

"Good luck, kid; a young cop like yourself will have a rough time with an old but experienced dog like myself."

He lets you go, and you act as though he had challenged you. You walk back, confused but determined, looking back at the cabin.

...

You'd have your weekly to daily checkups on Stan Pines. You stood firm against his tricks and frustrating antics, from bribing you to straight-up attempting to lie in front of your face. But you weren't Sheriff Blubs of Deputy Durland.

From warning to fines, Stan made sure to give you the stink eye as you beamed with pride doing your job. Of course, this man would step and dabble crimes involving you having to take him into the office for questioning.

Once, you'd pulled up proof that he was not only scamming people out of money for some party but also carrying various weapons within his home.

You pull into the booming outdoor party; you don't falter when you feel the wave of groans as you step out of your vehicle; Stan makes sure to comment about you being once again the party pooper. This only made things tense between the two of you as you stepped right into the middle of the dance floor, hands on your hips, staring right at Stan.

You couldn't help but glance at the way he was dressed; it suited and looked good on him for being in his 60s (the party outfit in "Swooning over Stans"). Stanley would catch you but say nothing in front of such a crowd. He smirks.

"I'm afraid you're coming with me, Stanley Pines. You had fun while you had it tonight, but I'm taking you in for crossing the line with this party!"

The surrounding crowd ooohs as you pull out your cuffs, and you watch Stan visibly tense up; he looks almost ready to run, but you rush up to the porch walking behind his back. He resists, but you manage to cuff him behind his back. Thanks to the other young twin of Mable, Dipper stopped him from running.

You lead him towards your car as the crowd watches the show. From insults to snarky comments about the way you are handling and touching him in the back of the vehicle, you only roll your eyes. As you double-check the locks and yell to the party to continue as they pleased, you drove off back into the roads towards the town.

The tension only grows between you as you stay quiet and keep your eyes on the road, only sparing some glances at him in your mirror to ensure he isn't escaping, also maybe to enjoy the exposed chest where a gold chain is nestled in chest hair and his man-boobs.

However, Stanley would finally talk about how he didn't miss how you looked at him at the party and now. You are surprised by this; you nearly choke on your spit and swerve slightly on the road. You cough, clearing your throat as you tilt the mirror, and you glare at him with your meanest eyes, making Stan chuckle as you enter town.

You were unaware of having to use the oldest cop cars known today and that the literal child's lock was set and entirely available for Stanley in the back.

You do your best to cool your face down from Stans's comment, which oddly seems to come at a consistent rate until you were realized too late from the sound of the lock being shifted and the door opening.

You stop immediately as Stan jumps out of the door into the streets while screaming for freedom. The people walking gasp and shout at the sight. You jump out and make a run yelling for Stan to stop while he mocks you and laughs. He's a decent runner for an older guy...until his knees fail him, and he slows down quickly.

Being the tryhard cop you are, you tackle him and press him hard into the ground on top of him. He groans and shifts underneath you; the sight alone relaxes the people around.

You have to admit the man caught a young cop like you off guard, and you even found yourself breathless from the chase. You lean beside his ear, laughingly from when he challenged you.

"...I don't..need any luck to catch you! And I thought that you were... experienced, no.?"

Stanley straight-up growls with frustration and tries his hardest to move out of your grip. He even dares to thrust into you with shock, but it only makes you hotter and keeps the grip on his hands harder.

The crowd then becomes confused by the odd tensions and weird movements the two of you are making and leaves the scene.

With enough shuffling, you manage to get him back in the car; for good measure, you get an extra pair of cuffs on his ankles, to which Stan can't help but give a low whistle at the sight of you below and between his legs.

You give him a stink eye and slam the door on him before returning to drive to the office.

You feel the tension only become thicker between you and him as you think yourself tugging on the tight collar of your shirt, and you find Stan unbuttoning just one more button and sighing leaning into the seat, legs wide even with the cuffs. He was going to be the death of you for sure.

Things are thick as you grab him out, you swear you could feel him cursing under his breath but you keep on pushing him into the lit building to have him situated.

You huff and finally return him to the building. Your Sheriff and Deputy are found playing with a paper fortune teller at the main desk. They look equally as flustered when you surprise them with Stan by your side looking as though the two of you were making out.

You get the keys to the cell he will be momentarily set in. You sit him down to take off the ankle cuffs, the heat between you grew as you realized that Stan was closing his thighs you look up in question to look at a very red Stan.

…Oh my, it doesn’t take awhile to realize what Stan is feeling right now. You quickly stand and back away unsure and Stan admits.

“Shit kid, You can leave me in here if you’re uncomfortable… This is such a bad time.”

You gulp finding yourself tugging out you collar once more. You feel yourself getting red and hot but you shake your head and sigh as you step forward towards him in response.

Stan is clearly surprised by your reaction.

But what makes everything tip is when you sit on his lap making him groan which is covered by his hand shoved into his mouth.

Hands and lips are thrown at once. Stan is quick to wrap his arms around you, your lips met hot and soft.

His hands softly rub into your hips through your clothing, as you feel for his skin through the window of his unbuttoned party shirt.

You both push in with your tongues, even with a heated make out session you both seem to have a competition as you both fight for dominance. The fact that this is your first time making out with some one definitely says something about you.

He comes over top more experienced, especially when he thrusts into you making you gasp and pull away breathless and tugging on your shirt desperately wanting to cool down.

But Stan stops you when you reach for your buttons.

“Don’t. This can wait when you aren’t on the job okay sweet cheeks? You are, amazing for a cop but I don’t want me to ruin your job.”

You nod and pull away out of the cell locking it and smile at Stan to which he winks at you and finger-guns you.

“But I promise you a hell of a good time somewhere else, beautiful.”

You are definitely going to look forward for that in the future. Maybe he isn’t so bad after all.

[chillinglyadventurous]

Meeting the Family - Stanford Pines

Ford is absolutely nervous to introduce you to his family. If he’d let you get a word in, you tell him the trust.

Thanks for the request, anon. Sorry it took me so long to get to this.

Tags: SFW, fluffy

Ford’s hand lingered on the doorknob as he let out a long, shaky breath. He glanced at you, eyes nervous behind his glasses. “I know I’m making a big deal out of this,” he admitted, smiling apologetically. “It’s just that I want you to like them and I want them to like you.”

Your heart warmed and you squeezed his hand. “Ford, that’s really sweet, but-”

He cut you off before you could finish. “It’s just that they’re unique. They mean a lot to me, so I don’t want you to be surprised.” He chuckled, but it sounded forced. “I’ve spent so much of my life not letting people in, but now that I have the chance, I feel, I don’t know, rusty?”

“Trust me, Ford,” you said softly, trying to reassure him, “I already know more than you think.” He really has no idea.

He looked at you with a puzzled smile, then, finally pushed the door open, ushering you into the Mystery Shack. Before he even had a chance to call out, you heard the sound of thundering footsteps and two familiar voices shouting, “[Y/N]!”

Dipper and Mabel hurtled toward you, arms outstretched. Mabel practically threw herself at you and Dipper wrapped his arms around you from the other side, nearly knocking the air out of you with their enthusiastic hug.

“I missed you guys!” You laughed, hugging them back.

“We missed you too!” Mabel chirped, squeezing you tighter. “It’s been so boring here without you!”

Dipper nodded. “You should’ve been here last week. Grunkle Stan’s been teaching us some questionable card tricks.”

“Oh, they’re only questionable if you lose,” Stan’s voice cut in from behind them. He strolled over with his trademark smirk, crossing his arms as he looked at you and then at Ford who was standing there looking utterly bewildered.

Ford cleared his throat. “Wait, hold on, you know each other?”

Dipper and Mabel pulled back and exchanged amused looks. “Know each other? [Y/N] helped Grunkle Stan rescue you from the multiverse, man!” Dipper said with a grin.

“She’s, like, a total hero! The portal, all that crazy stuff. You wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for her!” Mabel was nodding enthusiastically, her eyes wide.

Ford’s jaw dropped as he stared at you in shock. “You, you helped bring me back?” He stammered as if the words couldn’t quite make it past his lips.

You shrugged, trying to play it cool despite the smile tugging at your lips. “I tried to tell you, but you were, well, a little too focused on making this whole introduction perfect.”

Ford’s gaze softened, and he ran a hand through his hair, looking sheepish. “I was so nervous. I guess I just never let you finish.”

“Ford, you were so busy trying to be the perfect boyfriend that you didn’t even realize I already knew your family, but it’s very sweet of you.” You chuckled, giving his arm a gentle squeeze.

Ford rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks tinged pink. “I’m sorry. I must have sounded ridiculous.”

“You sounded adorable,” you corrected with a smile and you saw his blush deepen.

“Aw, he was really trying to make it special for you!” Mabel teased, clasping her hands and looking between the two of you with a knowing grin. “That’s so cute, Grunkle Ford!”

Ford cleared his throat again, trying to regain some semblance of his usual composure, but the warmth in his expression was undeniable. He looked at you, “Well, I guess the surprise is on me, then.”

Stan, who’d been watching all this with an amused grin, finally spoke up. He nudged Ford’s shoulder. “She handled all that multidimensional mess without even breaking a sweat.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” you laughed, shaking your head. “I think there was a lot of sweating involved.”

Ford, still looking dazed, finally let out a soft chuckle. “I just can’t believe it. I spent so much time worrying about how you’d get along with everyone and you were already, well, part of the family.”

Mabel beamed. “And now it’s official! We have to celebrate!”

Dipper grinned, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “We could make dinner! You should’ve seen the amazing nachos [Y/N] made the last time she was here. Ford, you have to try them!”

“You’ve been holding out on me.” Ford raised his eyebrows, looking at you with an affectionate, slightly amused expression.

“Only because you were too nervous to listen,” you teased.

Stan clapped his hands together. “Alright, enough mushy crap. If we’re making dinner, we’re doing it right. [Y/N], you’re in charge of nachos, and I’ll make my famous-”

“Grunkle Stan,” Mabel interrupted, “last time you tried to make ‘famous’ anything, the kitchen almost caught on fire.”

Ford stifled a laugh, shooting Stan a look. “Maybe I’ll supervise this time.”

Stan rolled his eyes, but there was a grin tugging at his mouth. “Yeah, yeah, whatever, nerd. As long as nobody tries to make any more of Mabel’s experimental smoothies.”

“Oh, come on,” Mabel protested, putting her hands on her hips, “you liked the kale-cucumber one!”

Dipper snorted. “You only liked it because you bet Soos he couldn’t chug the whole thing.”

Ford chuckled, a relaxed, content look settling on his face as he listened to his family bicker. Finally, he turned to you, his eyes soft. “Thank you,” he murmured, low enough that only you could hear. “For everything.”

You smiled, reaching for his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

[writingwrench]

Confession (Stanford x Reader)

 I hope y’all enjoy! If you want me to write another or you have a suggestion, hit me up!

 Stanford glanced at the photo of the cheerful woman on his desk. She had this immutable, meanderous personality that he’d fallen hard for.

 Ever since they were younger, he’d had a type of respect for her enthusiastic and bubbly personality. Ever since high school (maybe even before then) he’d acquired an officious fervor for her. He didn’t really know how to tell her for fear of provoking some kind of rancor. 

 Even so, he ventured from his basement in search of his parsimonious heretic of a brother....

 “Stanley?” he asked,shutting the vending machine door. The twin was found sitting at the register, counting his day’s winnings.

 “Hey,bro!” he said, sea-tanned face splitting into a grin.

 “I need help,” Ford muttered,pulling a chair over to the counter and sitting down. 

 Stan set the money down,giving his brother his full attention. It wasn’t like him to ever ask for help. Even when they were on the Stan-O-War II.

 “I....I have feelings for (Y/N)....” he awkwardly began,hoping Stanley would understand. 

 Slowly, Stan began to smirk,before full acclaim filled the room. 

 “Finally, you admit it. It’s been over thirty years!” he laughed. Ford’s face was set aflame. He knew his brother wasn’t being callous, but he still felt somewhat ashamed for him to take this long to bring up the gall to tell her.

   Seeing Ford’s impression of a tomato, Stanley laughed again quietly,before,”Look,Poindexter, just go out there,hike up your big boy panties,  and tell her. She feels the same way...even though I don’t really understand, I am the better looking twin!” He grinned,winking. Which earned him an eye-roll from Ford.

 Still unsure, Ford, paused before the door, before Stan got fed up and just pushed him out to where (Y/N) was sitting with Dipper and Mabel. 

 “-I’m trying to nail that quack reporter for his actions,” She was saying. Stanford didn’t really understand what kind of conversation  he’d managed to walk into, but just hearing her voice, he’d instantly felt relieved. 

 “Hey, (N/N)?” he asked, nervousness seeping into his pores.

 “Hey, Ford!” she smiled brightly,turning to him. He stared at her for a moment, lost in her (E/C) eyes, before the awkward silence was broken by the angel he’d fell in love with.

 “What’s up?” she asked, not at all perturbed by the awkward silence. (She’d gotten used to it fairly quickly since Ford himself was such a cute, awkward person.)

 “I....um...I have to confess something,” he stuttered out, not meeting her eye for fear of peeing himself. He didn’t understand. He could take on demons and other horrifying creatures, but with a mere glance from (Y/N),his knees would buckle and he’d be a total loss for words.

 The girl raised a brow, signaling for him to continue....so he did.

 “I want...um...I would love.. gah,screw it! I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU!!” he yelled,startling (Y/N) and the younger twins.

 It was quiet until- “OH MY GOSH,GRUNKLE FORD!!!!!”

 (Y/N)’s face tinted pink.

 “Kids,” she said shakily,”Please give us some privacy.”

 They did as told, making their way to the house. It wasn’t long before she saw two heads pop up over the window sill. 

 Rolling her eyes and grinning, she rushed over to Ford,tackling him in a fierce hug. They both landed with a thud,before surprised giggles filled the air.

 “I love you too,Ford,” (Y/N) said, still grinning before pulling him to her by the front of his overcoat. Their lips met. The kiss was sweet and passionate, the  both of them marveling at how long it took for them to get to this point.

 They disconnected, resting their foreheads on each other’s shoulder, and quietly grinning.

 “(Y/N), I’m so sorry it took me so long,” Ford finally said,breaking the silence.

 He was met with another kiss.

 “It’s alright,you dork,” she said, still grinning.

 It may have taken forever, but she finally felt truly wanted.

[gay-dorito-dust]

(platonic)

Stan and the reader as best friends since they knew Ford from college and when the twins are born, they go with him to see them at the hospital. Probably took a while before they could get a turn holding them.

For those not in the know, mason is dippers actual name.

The moment you were about to take a sip from your much needed morning drink to properly prepare for the day ahead, you were grabbed by your shoulders by your lifelong friend Stanley, which made you drop your cup and watch helplessly as it smashed into a million pieces on the floor between you both.

‘Stan! What the actual-‘

‘TWINS!’ Stan exclaimed, gripping your shoulders tighter as he smiled gleefully.

‘Twins?’ You questioned, no where near mentally ready to do any thinking this soon in the morning and just wanted him to be more straightforward.

‘The babies! They’re twins!’ Stan replied as he lets out a laugh of disbelief as he let one hand off your shoulder to run through his hair. ‘Guess it does run in the family after all.’ He adds and it only took you a minute to realise what he was going on about as you gasped, grabbing your friend by his arms, smiling widely.

‘They’re born? Already? You’re a great uncle Stan! A grunkle Stan if you will!’ You cried as you couldn’t help but feel happy for your friend who only looked at you as though you had grown a second head. ‘Grunkle?’ Stan tested out, ‘I’m not calling myself that.’ He adds. you shrugged, having seen this outcome from a mile away. ‘Worth a shot though, but back to what really matters, and that is the fact that we’re still standing here like idiots when we could be meeting the two new additions to the family!’ You shouted as you pulled yourself away from Stan in order to get ready to leave, but before you did you looked back at Stan. ‘Oh and make sure to put some pants on this time.’ You added with a smile before disappearing up the stairs to get changed.

Stan, confused about what was said and mutters to himself as he walked towards the door, impatiently waiting for you. ‘What are they talking about- oh.’ He abruptly stops when he catches himself in the mirror of the hallway to see that he was still wearing his white shirt and blue striped boxers. ‘Now the pants comment makes sense.’ He then says as he too rushed back to his room to grab the nearest pair of pants that he could before you could finish changing.

For as long as Stan knew you, you never seem to let him live it down whenever you get ready before him. So much so that it had became a weird competition of sorts between you to see who’d finish first to claim bragging rights over the other for the rest of the week. Was it stupid? Yeah but it was something that just to two of you shared and understood, so who cared if anyone else thought it was stupid, especially if it was something that made you happy.

Unfortunately for Stan, you won as his pants didn’t want seem to want to get on his legs at all and the moment they did, you were already stood in the hallway dressed and ready to go. ‘Took you long enough.’ You teased as you followed Stan out to the car, wanting nothing more than to meet the cute little baby twins and spoil them rotten.

Stan only glares at you from the corner of his eye as he starts the car. ‘I hate you.’ He said.

You smirked. ‘You wish you could but you know you can’t. Now shut up and drive we’ve got some cute babies to see and I’m not wanting to be late because you were having a fight with your pants.’ You said as the long and arduous to the hospital began.

‘What’s their names, do we know?’ You asked softly as you watched the twins -one girl and one boy- as they slept soundly in Stan’s arms. ‘Mason and Mabel.’ He tells you and you couldn’t help but smile when the girl- Mabel- reached a hand out at the sound of your voice as you gladly let her grab your finger and squeeze it in her tiny baby hand before she let go. The twins were both so cute and adorable and something deep down told you that you wouldn’t be able to tell them no even if you tried; These little babies will have you hook, line and sinker every time and you’ll have no problem with it.

‘Mason and Mabel pines. Oh I can tell they’re going to be quite the dynamic duo.’ You said as you gingerly trace the big dipper like birthmark on Mason’s forehead, ‘especially this one if he’s going to become anything like Ford.’ You added as you gently booped mason on his little nose, chuckling when Mason scrunched his little face up, already wanting them to grow up so you could teach them on how to prank their grunkle Stan. You missed Ford dearly and wished he could’ve been here to witness this moment with you and Stanley but you’ll take what you could get, however you get it.

‘Do you want to hold them?’ Stan asked after a period of silence.

‘Are you sure? I don’t want to drop them.’ You said, suddenly feeling a little anxious at given the test of holding a small, fragile baby.

‘You’re their godparent for Christ sakes of course you should get to hold your own godchildren.’ Stan says as he reassured you, knowing how often you got into your own head sometimes that he had to be the one to physically pull you back into reality, something he didn’t mind doing now and then.

You took a deep breath. ‘Okay.’ You said as you fought to control your nerves, ‘just let me hold little Dipper here for the time being-‘

‘Little Dipper?’ Stan asked.

‘Yeah cuz of the dipper constellation on his forehead, while yes it’s technically the Big Dipper but he’s a baby so I’m calling my godson Little Dipper until he’s far older, I’m talking 20 at least.’ You told Stan as he only scoffed playfully. ‘God help these kids if they’re ever stuck with you.’ He retorted while you stuck your tongue out at him as you took Mason off of him and cradled him close to your chest, cooing when he seemingly tucked himself closer to you and gripped your hand with his tinier one. The small action alone was enough to make you a little teary eyed knowing that they’ve barely yet opened their eyes and yet they’ve already found comfort in your presence.

‘Hello little guy.’ You whispered to Mason as he shifted at the sound of your voice. ‘I’m y/n and I’m your godparent and I’m going to spoil you both absolutely rotten little mister.’ You continued with a little break in your voice as you never thought you’d see the day where you’d become a godparent but a godparent to two cute little twins nonetheless? You were truly blessed with this opportunity and you wouldn’t dare ruin that trust bestowed upon you by Mason and Mabel’s parents. ‘That I promise you and little marvellous Mabel over there. So I hope that’s okay with you.’ You added as you looked over at Stan who looked down at Mabel with soft eyes and a softer smile.

Mason made a little sound, it was soft, so soft you almost missed it but you swore you saw a smile appeared on the sweet boys face. You kissed his forehead once, twice, three times. ‘Thank you little man, I promise I’ll teach you all my tricks on how to get under your grunkles skin.’ You whispered cheekily.

‘I heard that and don’t listen to them kid, they’ll only lead you astray and teach you really bad jokes.’ Stan replied with a smile as you pretended to cover little mason’s ears with your hand while holding him close to your chest. ‘Don’t listen to your grunkle Little Dipper, he’s a big meanie who never puts on pants and fyi my jokes are awesome, I’ll write you a joke book and give it to you when you and your sister are twelve.’ You retaliated, unable to contain your excitement for the future and getting to see two beautiful babies grow in to exceptional people.

‘Wanna hold Mabel next?’ Stan asked.

‘You just wanna swap babies so you can tell Little Dipper to not follow my example.’ You quipped but felt yourself melt when you saw that Mabel was actually reaching out for you with her little baby hands before you look at Stan with a deadpan look. ‘Gimme my sweet little Mabel.’

Stan smirked as you gave him Mason while he gave you Mabel in exchange as you both coddled the twins in love and affection, knowing damn well there wasn’t anything neither of you would do for the sweet bundles of joy in your arms.

[dipperscavern]

lord dipper lord dipper!!! m’lord, the council Must know about blowing the stark men today!!! the topic cannot be overlooked much longer! (fr tho the ask abt cregan putting his hand on the back of ur NECK?????? changed me as a woman)

[brittany broski british accent] yES YES. I HEAR YOU MY DEAR!! THIS REQUIRES OUR IMMEDIATE ATTENTION, IT DOES SO. (also me too girl that ask changed my brain chemistry)

cregan would look so big from your position on your knees LAWRD. all intimidating as he undoes the laces on his breeches (or if you’re good, you can do it for him 🙂‍↕️), lookin down at you with that smirk of his. would be all shaky breaths and grunts, a small nose scrunch if you run your tongue on the underside of his cock tee hee. a hand on the back of your neck, whether it’s to ground you or a placeholder for him.. who knows? sometimes he’ll use it to keep you in place if it’s an attitude adjustment.. sigh. what can he say? don’t talk with your mouth full.

robb… oh robb. that man is a throatfucker and u can’t change my mind sorry! only sometimes, when he just needs to be rough & messy n shove his cock down your throat. anyways, he loves the feel of your lips wrapped around his cock. likes receiving more than giving (but would absolutely still give don’t get me wrong). he tips his head back, groans & grunts rising from deep in his chest. grits his teeth when you suckle a lil on the tip (i’m clutching my pearls). he loves you & your mouth, and when you’re done he’s pulling you up & slotting his lips against yours, slipping his tongue in your mouth and groaning at the taste of himself…

jon would have a hard time keeping still. you’d be the first mouth he’s has around his cock, man does NOT know how to act. idc fight me you’d make that man writhe. he’d regain a bit of his composure when you smooth a hand over his thigh. his brows are pinched together hard, eyes shut as he groans and breathes sooo heavy. the occasional whimper. he’d try and steady his breathing to no avail, bless him. and his hips would jut forward ever so slightly, then would pull back cause he wants to make sure you’re able to breathe. he’d definitely have a hand on your jaw, but if he’s losing control & accidentally tightening his grip, he’d fist the furs/his cloak/anything else he could grab onto cause he doesn’t wanna hurt you. 😭

[fordlee]

Ford’s self-control on his… impure thoughts about his brother becoming undone as Summerween nears. All because of those outfits Stan’s been wearing on group tours that’s becoming more scandalous by the day. Call Ford crazy (well, crazier than he already is) but it almost seems like Stan wants him to fall into temptation.

Sorry this took so long, but I made it in time for Halloween! No smut unfortunately! I hope you like it anyway <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ⁺

If Ford hadn't known any better, he would have thought that Stanley was trying to torture him. The costumes Stan had worn in the week leading up to Summerween had become increasingly provocative. It had started off relatively innocent - ironic, considering that Stan's first costume of the week had been The Devil himself.

Stanford wasn't complaining, though. In fact, if he were being entirely honest, Stan looked downright adorable. The costume was akin to a pair of footie pajamas, all red and even coming with a tail sewn into the bottom. Ford wondered if Stan had sewn it himself, as he could see the stitch lines from where different pieces of fabric had been sewn together. Oh! And the little hooves on his footies. Something about it just pulled his heartstrings.

Stanley was precious. Even when reminding his customers that, “if you don't buy, you'll see me when you die!”

Unlike the coming days, not all that much transpired. However, for some reason, Ford found that Stanley's costume drew considerable attention to his rear. Perhaps because of the tail, perhaps because of the color, perhaps because Ford was an old pervert who enjoyed giving himself the opportunity to ogle his brother's ass. Who can say, really?

Whatever the case, Ford found himself resisting the urge to give Stan a pat on the ass far more often than he should have. Which, really, should have been not at all.

Mabel and Dipper had informed him that the second costume had been from the Summer prior, for a party held at The Mystery Shack.

It was a nice little number, even if it looked as though it hadn't seen the light of day since the Seventies. Then again, it did suit Stan well, if a bit loose on him. A white dress shirt with a v-neck, its collar popped. The gold chain draped around his neck led eyes to wander down to his chest, to the gray curls that covered Stan's wide chest. Ford could only wonder what he'd look like with his girdle off…

Ford preferred not to cross into the business section of the house, at least during operating hours. Though, it was tempting - the thought of getting close enough to run his eyes over Stan's chest, to sneak a peek past the v-neck of his shirt, down the valley of chest hair that trailed down to his stomach. The way the hair covered Stan's pecs, curled around his nipples.

Ford wondered, concealed by the shadows of the corners he was peeking around, if Stan's customers felt the same. If they, too, were left wanting and near breathless by the sight of Stan's tight sleeves wrapped around his thick arms. If they couldn't stop their eyes from trailing down to his brown slacks and how good they made his legs look. An image appeared in Ford's mind - of him storming over there and wrapping his arms around Stan's like a jealous lover.

Ford shook himself from the thought and suppressed a growl as he ripped himself away from the sight. That is, only after Stan had just happened to spot him, sending him off with a smirk and a wink.

The day after, Stan had worn a vampire costume - one he’d used last year, according to Mabel’s scrapbook. This year, however, Stanley had made some alterations. He had foregone that dreadful wig, and had left his undershirt partially unbuttoned, opened even wider than the day before, allowing anyone who desired to take a peek at the curly, gray chest hair underneath.

Ford found himself drawn to the fake fangs protruding from Stan's mouth. And Stan's mouth, in general, but that wasn't anything new. His imagination went wild with possibilities. Stanford was no stranger to sampling human blood, and he'd be lying if he said he hadn't considered partaking in the blood of his twin. Partially just out of curiosity, partially for the romanticism of it all. Drinking his brother's blood, having such an intimate part of his brother inside of him. But now, with Stan dressed up like this, he couldn't help but imagine if the roles were reversed.

Stan's fangs sinking deep into his neck, his mouth would be so hot and wet. Ford's hot blood would flood into Stanley's mouth and make him moan, vibrating against heated skin. The two of them moaning in tandem as Stan drank him dry. Stanley would cut himself open, across his chest, and press Ford's face into his chest, and the elder twin would eagerly lap up Stan's ichor, tongue covered in red, leaving over Stan's chest, his hair, his nipples. Ford would turn himself, and just as Stan did, he too would stake his claim and-

Ford was suddenly highly aware of how tight his pants felt, and made the decision to hole himself away in the basement for the day, trying his damndest to not think of Stanley or any tourists that may be ogling him.

The next day was no better - this time, Stan had decided a fitting follow-up was a sexy werewolf. He donned himself in an open flannel shirt, an off-white wife beater underneath, and a pair of jean shorts that, in Ford’s opinion, were not short enough to count as sexy - though they did give him a good look at his calves. But, then again, his brother wasn’t wearing them for him and he shouldn’t be thinking these things, anyway. If all of that wasn’t bad enough, Stan had worn a frankly adorable headband with two, fuzzy wolf ears protruding from it, and a pair of wolf paws. It took almost all of Stanford’s willpower to not go up to his twin and run his hands through his hair. The rest of his restraint was focused on forcing himself not to think of how Stanley would react if he called him a good boy.

Another day, another costume change. Ford should have known that something was horribly, terribly wrong when Mabel had informed him that she and Dipper had been banned from the Mystery Shack portion of the house.

Ford's fears had been confirmed when he peered around the corner to spot Stan during a tour. What? He couldn't just not look!

Stan was dressed as a sexy inmate. Of course. Of course he was. The bright, orange jumpsuit had no legs and was near skintight. Good God, Stan’s thighs. Ford felt like a dog with how much he was basically salivating over them. The urge to pull his brother away from his tour and the prying, undeserving eyes of his customers was so strong it had fingers itching to touch him. Fingers roaming every inch, caressing up his legs and down his thighs, brushing against his crotch…

The short sleeves allowed for Stan’s thick arms to be on full display. His chest, too, the graying curls making their return with a vengeance. The zipper of the opened jumpsuit lay tantalizingly close to Stan’s stomach. God, he was such a tease… But, no, no, he wasn’t. Stan wasn’t doing this on purpose, and Ford felt a sudden, crushing sense of guilt for even thinking that way. He was just doing this as a gag, and likely to catch the attention of any “babes” who were lucky enough to see their town darling in such a state of dress.

“Great Uncle Ford?”

In that instant, Ford’s blood had turned to ice. He’d been caught. Of course he had! He was peeking around the corners of The Mystery Shack in hopes of leering at his own twin brother!

A vortex of nausea churned in his stomach. For a moment, Stanford’s brain chugged like a dying engine. He was sent into mental freefall, no excuse or explanation to save him. He stuttered for a moment in surprise, clearly caught off guard. He watched as Dipper tilted his head, expression skewing into one of confusion. Great work, Stanford, you knucklehead. Ford managed to catch his breath, mind clearing somewhat. Then, he cleared his throat, forcing his face to remain neutral. He grasped for something to say.

“I- this- this is real, right?” Ford had made a showing of cringing as he pointed in Stanley’s general direction. “You’re seeing it, too?”

“I try not to,” Dipper grimaced before he perked back up. “But, Mabel and I get the week off of work just so we don't have to see.”

If only Ford could be so lucky. He snuck another peek.

“It’s like a trainwreck.” An incredibly attractive trainwreck. “I can’t look away.”

“Well, if you wanna get outta here, me and Mabel are gonna go Leprecorn-hunting!”

A tempting offer, to be sure. Perhaps some fresh air would clear Ford’s head. He quickly followed after his grandnephew and niece after grabbing some weaponry. He ended up being so consumed by thoughts of Stan in that costume in various poses that one of those bearded, be-hooved bastards nearly chewed his pant leg off.

Taking defensive measures, Stanford decided to hunker down in the basement for the majority of the following day. Stanley was out of sight, out of mind. Mostly. Well, he had certainly tried, and that’s what counted. He was thankful when Mabel and Dipper had decided to join him, allowing his mind to focus on crafting a quick campaign of Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons for them.

Even after a fun session of dungeon-crawling, Ford was desperate to not be alone with his own thoughts. His mind flashed through images of potential outfits Stan could have worn that day (sexy cowboy, sexy barbarian, sexy isosceles triangle…), causing him to shudder with lust. He had to keep distracting himself! He just needed to hold out for a couple more days. Then it would all go back to normal. Or as close to normal as his family could get.

It almost made Ford hopeful, until he finally made the ascent upstairs for dinner. He was certain he'd timed it so that Stan would have closed the Shack and gotten out of his costume, but of course, Ford just had to run right smack into him.

“Whoa, Sixer,” A strong hand came down on Ford's shoulder, steadying him. “You alright?”

An answer started to form, but immediately died in Ford's throat when he finally realized what Stan was wearing.

A pirate costume, funnily enough. A black captain's hat perched on Stan's head where his fez would normally be. Two straps at Stan's broad shoulders trailed down, connected to a tight, black corset that was a mix of both lace and leather, hugging him tight. And below the corset was a skirt. Stanley was wearing a skirt. His brother was in a skirt. A cute black skirt, layered with red, frilly fabric. Tantalizingly short. And when Ford’s eyes trailed down to his legs, he noticed– fishnets. Sweet Moses, Stanley was wearing fishnet stockings.

He dared not look any lower or for any longer, and when Ford was able to wrench his eyes away, he was suddenly, highly aware of how hot his face felt, a blush spreading from his face all the way down his chest and up to the tips of his ears. Ford’s mouth had fallen open at some point. He tried to articulate something verbally, but it seemed as though everything remotely intelligent in his brain had been shut down, all thanks to Stan and his scant clothing.

Stanley barked out a laugh. A large hand reached up and cupped Ford's jaw, making Ford seize up in surprise. The feeling of Stan’s warm, calloused hand on his face nearly made him reel back. His jaw was gently pushed up and his mouth closed.

“You'll catch flies,” Stan chided good-naturedly. “Leaves ya kinda speechless, don't it?”

Then, Stanley winked at him. Ford's mind scrambled for purchase, desperate to not make a bigger fool of himself than he already had.

“Quite,” Ford replied, finally finding the brain capacity to speak. “That- isn't that a…?”

“A broad's costume? Yeah, it drives the babes wild.” Stan leaned in, wiggling his eyebrows.

Stanford certainly couldn't argue that. He cleared his throat and quickly turned about to walk away– only to almost crash face first into the vending machine. Ford quickly recovered, shooting Stan a glare as he laughed after him, and made his escape from his sinful temptations. He didn't hear as Stan lagged behind him, muttering something to himself about ungrateful, perverted twin brothers.

Ford had a difficult time getting to sleep, his mind alight with even more ideas for what twin could be dolled up in. A sexy cheerleader, Stanley bending over his bed for him and rucking up his skirt, sending Ford a wink. A sexy playboy bunny, Stan spreading out his legs and showing Ford his thighs. Ford would crawl in between them, pulling aside the fabric that covered his bulge. A sexy unattainable princess, beckoning for him. Surely not a trap, surely not…

Ford was going to jump him. If he didn’t restrain himself, he was going to pounce on Stanley and take what was his. Because, of course, when he'd finally risen up from the basement, hoping the coast was clear, he'd found the house empty. As far as he was aware, at least. He really should have called out, just in case, but Ford was so overwhelmed with relief that it had slipped his mind. At least, that's what he told himself.

His feet had guided him straight to Stanley's room. Not only was he there, but he was in costume. Near naked. In front of a mirror. Posing.

“God, Stanley, this is the most provocative one yet! What if the children see?”

For just a moment, Ford relished the shocked expression on his brother's face. Stanley's eyes darted around the mirror for the culprit, quickly locking eyes with Ford, and a smug grin quickly rose to his lips. He spun around to face him.

For the umpteenth time that week, Ford gawker at his brother. It seemed to be what a Halloween store would refer to as a, "Sexy Mr. Mystery costume." Stan's suit had been replaced with just a loose vest. The only thing on the lower half of Stan's body beside his garters was a tight, red thong. And, as always, his fez.

“Aw, don’t worry, they’re out with Soos an’ Wendy. We got the place to ourselves.”

For a moment, Ford opened a closed his mouth, akin to a fish, making no sound. It was only when he shook himself did he finally find the strength to speak again - much to his twins amusement.

Ford's brows furrowed together as he approached (God he's so close, he's so so close to him, he could just reach out and touch him and take him and-). “Then, why are you dressed up? There are no tours tonight, correct?”

Stan crossed his arms over his chest, smiling smugly. “Not doing trick-or-treating, neither.”

A tilt of Ford's head. “So, what's with the outfit?”

“Ah, you know, jus’ in case someone wants a private tour.”

“A private tour.” Ford repeated. Part of it was making sure he was hearing Stan correctly, the costume was making it a tad difficult.

“Y'know, of the bedroom.”

Ford blinked owlishly.

All mirth ran away from Stan's face, his expression twisting in frustration. “For a genius, you can be real dense, y'know that?”

“What?”

“Ford, I'm-” Stan raised a hand to the bridge of his nose, rubbing at his face in exasperation. He let out a heavy sigh as he made eye contact with Stanford. “I'm… I'm coming on to ya.”

He was joking. He was just joking. Stan had to be joking. Ford trembled with restraint, shaking and itching to just touch him. But, he couldn't. It couldn't be true. Luckily, Stan took the choice out of his hands as he reached out to touch him, a large hand squeezing around his bicep.

“I'm not an idiot, Ford. You're literally the most obvious person in the world about this. I know you like me.”

Stanford was sure that by now, his entire world would have ended. His life should be over. But, Stanley doesn't seem angered. Quite the opposite.

A shaky breath before he dared to confess, “I love you.”

Stan's smile was tender and warm. “I love you, too, knucklehead. An’ I know you want this. That's the reason why I dressed up.”

“Really?"

“Yeah! And ‘cause I like driving you crazy.”

Of course. Of course he'd do all this just to mess with him. Who else but Stanley would?

“Jerk,” Ford gave Stan a playful punch, his grin betraying him. "... Was I really that bad?"

"Oh, yeah, you could see it from a million miles away," Stan chuckled. “For some reason I figured tryin’ to goad you into jumpin’ my bones was easier than just tellin’ ya I feel the same.”

“Don't you hate it when you have to actually talk things out?”

“Ugh, it's the worst!”

Ford chuckled darkly. “You better be prepared to make up for an entire week of teasing me.”

Stan leaned closer, wrapping his arms around Ford. “Whaddaya say you unwrap your treat, huh?”

“God, and you say I'm the lame one.”

“Shut up, nerd.”

And before Ford could respond, Stan pressed his lips against Ford's in a searing kiss. All restraint and worry left Ford as they both melted together, into the loves of each other's lives, and guided one another to the bed.

[jackie-gremlin-ghost]

Ford: *after having convinced Stan to play a session of DD&MD with him and the kids* The Fae Lord has accepted your deal of safety for your kingdom in exchange for your firstborn child, Fighter. However, the deal will be nullified and goods still delivered on, so long as you can tell the Fae Lord his name.

Stan: Before we do that, I got one question, though; he hot?

Ford: I don't see how that's relevant, but yes, did you miss the part where I said they're a Fae Lord?

Stan: Hey, Fae dude! We know your real name!

Ford: "Oh, do you now? Very well, what is my name, Mortal?"

Stan: *smirks* Daddy.

Ford: Expardon me, WHAT??

Stan: Just figured it'd be super easy to give him my firstborn child if he's my baby's father.

Ford: Roll persuasion, you son of a bitch…

Stan: *smugly* And that is going to be… *rolls dice* a natural 20, for a total of… 32.

Ford: *fuming as Dipper and Mabel try desperately not to laugh* The Fae Lord… finds you… VERY ATTRACTIVE!

[arminsumi]

Hello! My boyfriend of 8 years just broke up with me and my birthday is tomorrow I was wondering if you could possibly write a Suguru fluff. Thank you!

★ Chef student!Suguru feeding you pancakes

Geto すぐる

Note : i'm so sorry to hear that! i hope it is not too hard to cope 💗🥞 take care of yourself!

The smell of pancakes wafts up into the air.

It's funny, you're watching such a big and muscular man wearing a pink Hello Kitty apron while he flips pancakes.

And he flips these pancakes with the utmost delicateness and gentleness — as if the pancakes have feelings.

He piles up the best pancakes onto your plate and gives himself the floppier, less appetizing ones.

"Honey or syrup?" Suguru asks.

"Who would have syrup on their pancakes?" you scrunch your face up, "Pancakes are meant to be eaten with honey."

"What! No — syrup is way better!" he responds, one hand firmly gripping a pink spatula.

The spatula is not just pink. It's also too big for the pan. The pan is also tiny. But it's stick-free, and there is a joy to be had in flipping pancakes with a stick-free pan of that size with a pink spatula.

"Syrup is not better. It's too sweet." you argue.

Suguru keeps piling up the fluffiest pancakes on your plate. They're golden and puffing with steam, hot off the pan.

"Well, you're too sweet but I still love kissing your sugar lips." he flirts.

"Oh Sugu!" you roll your eyes. He's made your cheeks burn again.

He leans down for a small kiss. The smack between yours and his lips and little wetness makes him fluttery.

"You're ridiculous. And that apron is also ridiculous." you say. "What if your school saw you wearing that to the next class?"

"I think they'd appoint me as Head Chef and give me Michelin stars right away. Then I can be your Michelin-starred Suguru."

"Ah, you make it sound like your sole purpose to drag through culinary school is to be a chef boyfriend." you laugh.

He grins at you and prepares to circle honey over your pancakes. He grips the honey dipper gently, pinching it between his thumb and index fingers, and lets it slowly drip honey onto your fluffy pancakes.

"Anyways, don't you mock the Hello Kitty apron." he says with faux seriousness. "It's not a joke. It will bring me good luck."

"Sorry, Chef Geto." you play along.

He smirks and lifts the plate, forks a honey-smothered pancake piece and raises it to level with your mouth.

"Open wide, birthday girl." Suguru coos.

You open wide and Suguru feeds you a bite. Instantly, your face melts at the buttery, fluffy taste.

"Are they good?" he asks, just to lure a compliment out of you about his cooking.

"Mhm. I always love your cooking, Sugu. It tastes like a gentle man made it." you nod, happily taking the plate and stuffing another piece of pancake into your mouth.

Suguru feels a bit smug about his cooking now.

The compliments he gets from you get stored into his mind for safekeeping — he'll remember this one for years and his heart will flutter. Even when he's become a real chef at a restaurant, every compliment will never mean as much as this one you made over birthday pancakes.

He tastes his own pancakes, with the syrup on top.

Suguru hums contemplatively while chewing. You intently watch his sharp jawline as he chews. How can he make the act of eating seem so alluring?

"Tastes good — but not as good as you." he flirts.

"Stop flirting or I'll stuff your mouth with honey pancakes." you grumble cutely.

"Oh no! Honey pancakes; my worst enemy..." he murmurs and leans down to you for a soft kiss.

You taste the syrup on Suguru's lips and he tastes the honey on yours.

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.