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forcedagere · 3 months ago

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I personally really like the idea of Bill x Reader x Ford. This one kinda ties into my previous post, but it’s not required reading. I suppose this would be an AU where Ford accepted Bill’s offer during Weirdmaggedon, or something else went wrong resulting in Bill staying in power :)

Contents: forced age regression, yandere, implied mental manipulation

Whereas Bill is far from the best caretaker (though he tries, in his own way), Ford takes care to create a semblance of structure in your life. He doesn’t have tons of practical experience with children or little ones such as you, but he makes up for it with dedication. He takes to caring for you as if it were a newly discovered, fascinating field of study. In other words… He reads many, many books, and tries all kinds of things to figure out what you like best.

Ford is not entirely fond of the kind of dynamic you have with Bill. It's not because he doesn't want to be referred to with parental terms, that's simply a matter of preference, but that he insists on you being friends above anything else. Considering the dynamics at play here, Ford cannot help but view it…

"As simply pedagogically irresponsible, Bill." The triangle in question rolls his eye. "Oh, boohoo! Fancy McFancypants over here knows what’s up!” Bill glances at you from the corner of his eye. Seeing you crack a smile while you’re sketching away with your crayons, he’s encouraged. “You read one book on how to raise a kid, and now you wanna tell me what to do? Get lost. Kid, c'mon, prove him wrong-- I'm your favourite, right?" You look up from your latest piece of art. You are drawing all three of you, in fact. You're usually deaf to their arguments, it's such a constant that you've grown used to the noise and stopped viewing it as a threat. (Your daddy calls it 'bickering'; Billy, when daddy isn't listening, calls it 'flirting'. That makes you giggle.) But you don't like getting involved in it yourself! So you firmly shake your head, and drop the pacifier attached to your necklace to speak. "No favourites… I love you both," you say with the confidence only someone as little as you could have. Billy's eyelid flutters, and your daddy smiles.

To put it simply, Bill is the ‘fun, rule-breaking parent’ and Ford is… A little less that. One should not take Bill Cipher as the benchmark of taking good care of a human, though.

Ford will make sure your meals are more varied than the endless stream of candy that Bill feeds you, and get you tucked in for sleep at regular times, too. Compared to Bill, who enjoys playing games with you and ‘roughhousing’, Ford prefers calmer activities. He’s definitely up for the occasional board game, but, most of the time, he’ll read to you, make drawings upon requests (or give you lessons!), or toy around with science experiments safe for someone who gets the urge to put anything that looks interesting inside their mouth.

He might’ve taken you for an adventure or two outside, but… The world hasn’t been the same since Bill got his hands all over it. He may be technically immortal now. You decidedly are not, as far as he knows. Either way, he doubts that Bill would let you out of this room to begin with. He doesn’t have to ask to be able to know that. If there is any reason he would keep someone locked up the way he does with you, it must be because you have some form of special connection to him. Ford does not believe he would risk that.

Really, Ford isn’t stupid or blind. It’s not that he’s going along with all of this because he is ignorant of Bill’s manipulation of your mental state. Bill can call it a ‘nudge in the right direction’ all he wants. He’s keeping you regressed. But everything has changed. He has changed, and Ford doesn’t know if he made the right decision. He fears he hasn’t. (Somewhere out there, in an alternate universe, a Stanford must live who made a difference decision. Ford hopes he’s happy.)

Spending time in this little contained room, with something dependent on him and eager to be looked after by him, who doesn’t know better and never will… It’s not good, it’s the very definition of selfish, but it’s comforting to him. Grounding, in a sense. With an eternity of time left ahead of him and the foundations of his previous life all but crumbled, he has something steady to return to. It doesn’t matter how much he rationalizes it. It’s twisted and fucked up, plain and simple.

…He supposes he can understand why Bill finds him so amusing, even now.

A little whimper snaps him from the spiral of his thoughts. Your bottle is empty. He should get youa refill, then pull you back on his lap.

#yandere #gravity falls x reader #bill cipher x reader #ford pines x reader #stanford pines x reader #forced agere #reader insert

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littlelambscandyland · 6 months ago

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Bunker Down

Yan!Platonic Daddy Stanford x Fem!Reader, Side Yan!Platonic Uncle Stanley x Fem!Reader

Warnings- Forced Age Regression, Kidnapping, Use of Daddy (Non-Sexual Obviously), Accidental Self Injury, Time shit I don’t understand, Implied spell casting induced age regression, Reader is implied to be 20, Ford has blue eyes cause I fucking said so, not matching to the canon ending

Your eyes burned from your sleep. The bones in your body sore and unmoving. You were content on letting yourself rest, allowing yourself some form of recuperating. Want and need were two different things, however, and you found yourself crawling from your covers. With Dipper and Mable leaving just a week ago things are still struggling to get back on track.

Something caught your eye, or rather your feet, when you left your bed. The floor was oddly soft. Now that you think about it, so was the bed. The bed that most certainly wasn’t yours in a room that also was definitely not yours. Your eyes still burn, but your curiosity burns harder.

You stand up with caution and exhaustion. The door was easy to spot among the slightly bright room. It reminded you of the room you saw taped in the back of the first journal, but that couldn’t be the same room. No, that room was your nursery. The room Ford built just for you after your sudden appearance in his life. It did look like it though. Different yet the same.

A part of this situation made you sad. The remembrance of loss and odd deja vu feeling of the room decor made you uneasy. Not the best way to start the day for sure.

Your hand clasped the golden handle and immediately turning it, or trying to. The door knob didn’t turn. The door barely even shuddered when you panicked and slammed yourself against it. It was a chilling realization when you figured out the door wasn’t actually wooden, just painted. You found out when the cold metal dislocated your arm from the pressure.

Your cries of pain stirred something up because a red light blinked above the door lit up and washed over you. Nothing happens. Nothing comes to stop you from angrily banging on the door.

It lasted a while. Sitting on your knees scratching at it with wavering hope. You were tired, but it felt like it’d been so long.

Finally the door opened. Frantically your father, Ford, entered the room. For an old man he moved quickly. All those years running must’ve made him tough if nothing else. He threw you in his arms and rushed you back over to the bed while muttering to himself. He sat with you looking over your damaged arm and hands.

“F-Ford…” You called out to him wearily.

You’d never called him your dad. Not since he’d come back. Not since being alone for so long. You couldn’t bring yourself to rely on him. You couldn’t be his daughter, not when he doesn’t even seem to feel that you are either.

“Dad.” He says searching a bag full of bandages.

You take it back, maybe he did think you were his kid.

“Wha- Just what’s happening?” Your voice rang through the quiet room.

Ford stopped searching and the scuffling noises ended. He didn’t answer. Instead, he works on your hands. Torn flesh wrapped delicately in the bandages. Did you really scratch that hard?

You look up impatiently. “Ford-”

“Dad.” Ford says, wrapping the bandage tighter than needed.

“Fine- Fucking- Dad. What is going on?” You asked anxiously.

“It’s-” He stops. “Hold on one second this is going to hurt.”

He wraps his hand around your wrist and then places his other on the crook between your arm and neck. Ford tightens his hold slightly and pushes hard on your arm. A gasp and a scream leave your mouth as he pops your arm back into its proper place. He pulls you closer into himself and pets your head.

“C’mon, sweetie, it’s okay.” He coos at you. “Shhh-shhh… Daddy’s here.”

As the pain faded he continued to work on wrapping your arm.

“You didn’t answer my question…” You drew out.

“It’s complicated to explain.” Your father answers, finishing your arm. “Overall…” He trails. “I’m just trying to keep you safe. I missed so much and, and so did you.”

“So… Your solution was a concealed box?” You ask.

You couldn’t quite wrap your mind around what he was trying to prove. Why were you locked in? If this was to keep you safe why not lock things out? Your curiosity showed on your face. The slight shake in your hands giving way to your fear.

“I didn’t think you’d wake up so early… Or try to tear the door down. You can’t go acting all crazy like that, kiddo. Why do you think you’re hurt?” Ford says concern lining his scarred face.

“That doesn’t- Why aren’t you answering my questions!?” Your panic voice breaks through.

“I know! I know. I’m just trying to save you…” He sighs and grabs your arms lightly. Ford frowns as you try to pull away. “I just want to have my baby girl back… I think we both deserve that. Don’t you a princess?” He asks hopefully.

It makes sense, a bit, why he’d do this. Bill had thrown you threw a portal at such a young age. This portal threw you years in time. You grew up alone in a completely different time. You made it to your teenage years without anyone. You did it! And you were so proud of yourself. Then again you missed out on being a kid. You missed your father. You missed everything, but, then again, so did he.

These thoughts didn’t shadow your panic. All this made sense, in a way. The man's mind was most likely fractured from all he’s suffered through the years. What you didn’t understand was the nicknames, or the room, or, now that you’ve noticed, the clothes.

His mind may be broken, but how old did he think you were? How old did he want you to be?

You sighed. “Ford…”

“Dad.” He cut you off quickly. A panicked laugh followed after. “I’m your father. I should be treated like your father.” His words rush out.

“Okay, I get it. But you still aren’t really explaining anything to me! Like the clothes, the room, fuck, the-the door? What exactly are you hoping to gain and what exactly is the plan here?” You integrate the man.

Ford lifts you into his arms with ease. Your tense body seemingly makes no difference to him. Your face to face with him, his broken frames shadow some of the intensity in his eyes. Blue eyes darkened by age and trauma. Your heart pounds dangerously hard against your ribs. Eyes wide and panicked matching his tired and manic orbs.

Ford rests his head against yours, but doesn’t close his eyes. His intense gaze frightens you and you close yours tightly to avoid his own.

His voice comes out thick and heavy. “I know… It seems radical. I know, you’re scared.” Your father says, moving away, cupping your face in his large hands. “I just want us to be happy again,” He whispers desperately. “Is it that bad to want to see my baby grow up?” His voice breaks. “I know, I know it seems odd right now, but you’ll get used to it! You can be daddy’s little girl again! Wouldn’t that be nice? No more worries just you, me, and occasionally your Uncle Stan.” He finishes with a smile filled with hope and delusion.

“I think,” You say, trying to pull away. “You need to take some time to- to calm down… Everything that’s happened and after all that occurred Dipper and Mable had to go home. I get it your- your stressed, but I really don’t think you’re thinking straight. Y- Y’know?” You plead to him.

Ford says nothing. His grip tightens every time you try to wriggle out. You’d never felt afraid of him until now. The lack of natural light, the decoration, the words from his lips, all have you in a state of fear you've never experienced before. Which was saying something because you’ve been through some stuff.

His eyes harden and he’s suddenly standing with you in his arms. Ford walks out of the room and up a set of stairs. Were- were you in the basement? Surprising you a bit when you made it to the door at the top of the stairs you weren’t met with the inside of the shack rather you found yourselves in the hall between the two mens’ rooms. Confusion crosses your face.

“We added a separate entrance so it’d be more safe. On top of that it’s more discrete.” Ford smiles pridefully.

You try to leave the older man's grip again, hoping maybe you could find some comfort in being a few steps away from him. This hope dies quickly when he simply switches you to his other hip. How the hell is his 70 year old ass able to hold you for so long? Your fear boils over to anger as you try to push yourself out of his arms.

“Ford! Ford put me down!” You shout pushing as much as he pulled.

He wrestled with you all the way to the living room. His grip was tight enough to carry you even while you tried to fight.

“That is enough young lady!” He shouts and plops you down onto… Another lap? “I’ve had enough of this little tantrum. Now you're going to sit there and be good for Stan while I get you breakfast. Am I understood?”

Your heart stopped. Not even when you were little did he yell at you. You were always his “little angel”. You never got in trouble. It was startling to hear him angry at you.

“Don’t think you answered your old man there sweetheart.” Stan chimed in.

Realization hit you for a moment. Your father threw you straight onto your uncle's lap… And your uncle seemed completely fine with what was going on… Are you going crazy?

“Why- I - uh - I…” You trailed on in a stuttering line.

“C’mon I know you’re young, but spit it out will ya.” Stan says with faux irritation.

“What- What is wrong with the two of you?!” You shout in frustration.

You try your best to scramble off of Stan's lap. A fight you lost very quickly when the old man crushed you into a bear hug. Through your pleas of “let me go” and “why are you doing this” you were cooed and hushed at. You found that your uncle seemed to find some sort of humor in your “tantrum”. He shouted jokes to Ford about how much more difficult you were being all because of a little change. How you were so pitiful it was cute.

Your movements came to a halt when you heard your father clearing his throat. Stan makes another joke about how you’re really in trouble now. Your eyes water quickly and your breathing becomes erratic. Before Ford could even scold you for you “bad behavior” you were having a full blown panic attack.

The whole thing happened in a blur. Warm arms and a faint glowing light. You felt so much smaller so quickly. It’s like the world changed course. You were so angry and now you felt so much more dependent.

“Please… Daddy, I don- I don’t understan…” You sniffle out onto his shoulder.

Your arms wrap around him as tightly as his wrap around you. Your head felt so much fuzzier.

“Told ya’ this would be faster poindexter, then again didn’t think ya had it in ya’.” Stan says proudly from his chair.

You peek over your daddy's shoulder… What’d he mean by that? Aside from the fogginess you felt fine. What’d they do?

“It’s just till she gets used to things…” Ford says while rubbing his hands over your back.

“Sure it is,” Stan says. “Anything to get your little angel back huh?”

Your father rests his head on yours. “I already have her, she just needed a little help.”

#age regression #age regressor #little space #yandere agere #yandere platonic Stanford Pines x reader #platonic Stanford pines x reader #gravity falls agere #platonic Stanley Pines x reader #yandere platonic Stanley Pines x reader

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theomenscouncil666 · 4 months ago

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Sad little triangle and his six fingered human 🥹

DO NOT GIVE ME SHIT THIS IS FOR OUR BILL FICTIVE WHO HAS A POSITIVE RELATIONSHIP WITH A FORD FICTIVE!

Lil bud needs a paci and a stuffie and a blankie STAT

#age regression #age regressor #sfw agere #fandom agere #padded agere #agere art #art #gravity falls #gravity falls agere #billford #billford agere #baby regressor bill cipher #caregiver stanford pines #bill cipher #stanford pines #they make me sob so hard

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the-universal-sun · 1 month ago

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little stan crying for his mom and ford/fidds having to try and comfort him 🤞🤞🤞🤞

Nonny, I had a hard time deciding on whether I wanted to do Ford or Fidds as Stan’s caregiver, but I decided there wasn’t enough Stan and Fidds! Forewarning, there is mention of death of a loved one and some minor cursing! So, please don’t read if this is sensitive, uncomfortable, or triggering for you!

Stanley’s had a rough day. No scratch that, he’s had a rough week. No, scratch that, he’s had a rough life. But he thinks today might just take the cake for how damn shitty his life is. He got a call from Shermie today, technically Ford did because he, Stanley, is literally dead to his family. And now normally he likes his calls with Shermie, the updates on his nephew and his eldest brother's life are a nice reprieve from the tourists and the portal work, but he wishes he never picked up the phone today. Shermie didn’t call to update him on his son's college life or how California is. He called to tell him that mom passed. Their mom. His mom. She’s gone, going into the ground and he’ll never see her again. Hug her again, never talk to her again. Or taste her Latkes, she’s never going to send him Sufganiyots every holiday season. He’s never going to be around his Ma’ ever again. He hasn’t been around her since the fake funeral, and now he’ll never get the chance to again.

He slid down the wall he balanced himself on when he first heard the news, the telephone hanging by the cord, he didn’t even realize he dropped it, were his hands shaking? He’s on the floor, but his knees still feel so weak, why? He lifts his shaking hands up to his face, wiping off the tears that keep streaming down his face, his white shirt already darkening where the missed tears hit. His chest hurt and his head felt tight, or was that the other way around? He doesn’t know, he doesn’t think. He doesn’t want to think. He can’t think. He just wants his mama, to be held in her arms again like he used to, before he got too big and grown up to be held and rocked, with her stories and lullabies. He can’t even stifle his sobs, and he hates himself for it because he’s a man and men don’t cry. He didn’t cry when Flbrick passed. Hell, he didn’t even show up to the funeral, so why is he sobbing like a baby now?

“Stanford? Stanford are you there? I-I know this is a lot to process, but I need your help planning her funeral. Can you-” At Shermie’s mention of a funeral, Stan let out a wail before he clasped his hands over his mouth, not wanting to alert Fidds or Shermie to his aching chest and furthering fuzzy head. He’s so in his head that he doesn’t hear Fiddleford’s footsteps or register his voice.

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“Stanley, are you alright? I heard a noise an’ I-” Fiddleford stops short at the scene in the kitchen. He takes a moment to process what he’s seeing. Stanley’s sobbing on the floor with the phone off the hook. He can hear someone’s tinny voice coming through the hanging phone. He walks over to Stan, kneeling down and trying to see his face.

“Stan? Hon, are you alright? What happened?” He asks quietly, voice panicked. Is Stan hurt? He doesn’t see anything indicating that, and Stan’s usually so strong against pain, he’s only seen him cry when regressed….Oh dear. Oh this isn’t good. Stan was having a good day, a really good one, until he briefly stepped away from dinner to take a phone call and now he’s on the floor sobbing and most likely regressed. Fiddleford pulls at his hair, not as hard as he used to before Stan but still hard enough to get him to focus. Focus and be calm is what he needs to do. He’s a Father, a Big Brother, and a Caregiver, he can deal with tears. He can do this. He takes a deep breath in, exhales it out, and stands up, grabbing the phone on his way. He’s going to see who and what just upset his baby.

“Stanford! C’mon man! I need you to talk to me here-” Fiddleford heard from the telephone receiver as he brought it up to his ear.

“Dr. McGucket, who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?” He asked coldly, not liking the angry tone of the man on the other end. This is the one who probably upset his Pumpkin, and he will not stand for that yelling or anything as such directed towards his family. It doesn’t matter who the man on the other end is, he will shut down any and all attempts to strong arm or deride Stanley.

“Dr. Mc-What it? Listen, I need to speak with Stanford right now, so just-put him back on the phone. It’s important family stuff, so, none-ya-business-” came the irritated reply from the man steadily making an enemy out of a one Fiddleford Hadron McGucket.

“I’m Stan’s research partner, Dr. Fiddleford McGucket, and Stanford is currently-” he looks down at his boy, still sobbing, but now wrapped around his legs, and his eyes softened, “-indisposed at the moment. I assure you, Sir, that I’ll be sure to relay any messages back to him. Now, I ask again, who are you and what’s your business with Stan?”

“It’s Shermie, his big brother. Listen, I’ll call back whenever he’s not uh- “indisposed”-” Fiddleford can just hear the air quotes, “and all. Just let him know that I need help with Ma’s funeral, okay, Dr. Whatever? Bye.” Fiddleford hears that dial tone and his heart feels heavy in his chest. Oh no, oh his poor, poor baby. He loved his mama so much, always smiled for hours after talking to her, and now she’s-

Fiddleford lowers himself to kneel beside Stan, whose arms are still wrapped around his leg, and gently lifts his face to look at him. He sees Stan’s tear stained face, his lips in the biggest and wobbliest frown he’s ever seen on his boy's face and he finds himself at a loss for words.

“Oh Honey, I’m so sorry about your Ma’.” Is the only thing he can think to say at the moment.

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Hearing those words, Stan feels the ache in his tummy get worse, his throat burns, and he can’t stop the new tears as they go down his face. He wasn’t dreaming it or thinking wrong, if Fidds’ is saying that, then Mama must really be gone, but he doesn't want her to be gone! He wants to hug his Mama now!

He buries his head in Fidds’ chest, sobbing so hard he finds it hard to breathe. He knows he’s gettin’ tears an’ snot on Fidds’ nice white shirt, but he doesn’t say anything. He just rocks them and rocks them, and pats his back and talks to him. Stan can’t hear what he’s saying, but he always likes to hear his voice, Stan’s always found it so nice to listen to his Fidd speak to him, even though he can’t understand what he says.

He feels Fidds chest rise and fall in a big way, and matches it because Fidds taught him that to calm him down when he’s feeling these big emotions, when he can’t swallow and his tummy hurts like it does now. He looks up at Fidds, and he can’t say what the look on his face is, but it makes Stan's tummy ache worse, so he just buries his face in the shirt again.

He feels himself being lifted up and walked somewhere. He doesn’t want to walk anywhere, but his knees were hurting sitting down, so he guesses this is fine. He blinks when a bright light turns on and he’s sat down. They’re in the bathroom? He sniffles, bringing his hand up to rub his eyes and looks around, he’s confused on why they’re here, he doesn’t want to take a bath. He doesn’t want to do anything but lay down with Poindexter and cry and miss Mama. Except he doesn’t want to do that either because it hurts to cry and miss her, it always does, but there’s no more calling her when he misses her any more because she’s gone! His lips wobble and he can feel the tears in his eyes again, but he doesn’t want to cry again, he’s a big boy and big boys don’t cry! Stan startles when he feels a warm and wet washcloth gently touch his face, wiping away his snot and tears. He looks at Fidds, who’s kneeling in front of him with a serious look on his face.

“Now, Stanley, I know what you’re going through is hard. It’s the toughest thing anyone can go through, so it’s alright to cry. Ah!” Fidds cuts off when Stan shakes his head, “None o’ that, Love Bug, crying is healthy and good for the soul. Lord knows I’ve done enough crying to know how it can feel like a release. So it’s okay to cry, you loved your Ma’, and it’s a painful feeling, that loss. I lost my momma when I was about to graduate high school, and it was the hardest thing I’ve been through. I cried like a baby every day for weeks. Does that make me less of a man?” Stan quickly shook his head, feeling dizzy from the force of it. Fidds was one of the manliest people he knows (excluding the entire Corduroy family), he’s super duper smart, and he can cook, and he can chop woods, and Stan saw him tackle a Deer once! Fidds is so cool, smart, and manly!

“Exactly, crying is nothing but a human emotion, and you’re a human, you can let yourself feel your emotions, Stanley. I promise you, I will not make fun of you, no teasing, no nothing of the sort, ya’hear?” Stan nods his head, “Good. It’s okay to grieve, I want you to grieve, I want you to remember your Ma’, all the good she’s brought in your life and how much love she filled it with, I want you to always remember her, okay?” Stan feels more tears fall down his face, his Fidds is so wise. He knows how to help Stanley, what to say and do, even when Stanley doesn’t know why he’s feeling a sort of way, or can’t find himself to speak or think. He loves his Fidds, he wishes he had him as a dad instead of him, then life would’ve been super better, probably great even!

“But, don’t get stuck in your feelings, you can remember and love your Ma’ all you want and need, but you need to remember there’s other people that care about you. I care about you so much, so many people in town care about you. So when you find yourself feeling too much about your Ma’ or your past, remember your present and the people here that love you. Remember me, Stanley, remember how I love you as much as I love to breathe. Remember that you’re my baby, that I love taking care of you, that I love being here, in the now, with you. Can you do that for me, Sweetpea?” Stan sniffles and throws his arms around Fidds’ neck sobbing into him. He also loves his Fidds! He loves how he cuts his sandwiches just right, how he does the voices when he reads to him, he loves how Fidds doesn’t call him stupid or girly. He loves how he can just be small around him, that he’s allowed to cry. Fidds would be such a good Pa’.

Stan feels Fidds softly pat his back as he cries again, for what feels like forever this time. When he feels his tears stop, he sniffles and leans back, wiping his nose on his hand. He giggles as he feels Fidds swipe at his face with the cloth again, covering his face from the ticklish feeling of the cold water. He softly pushes Fidds’ hands away with a soft spoken “stop”, breathy from his giggling.

“There’s my boy! Now, I think we both need an early bedtime, hmm? What do ya’ about getting in your comfiest pajamas-I’m thinking your Whale long johns-and getting cozy in bed with Poindexter and “Goodnight Moon”? How ‘bout it?” Stan nods his head slower this time, crying always makes his head hurt. He doesn’t want to think anymore right now, he just wants to cuddle his Fidds, Poindexter too of course, he couldn’t leave out his bestest friend, and fall asleep under a warm blankie. Fidds helps him off the toilet seat and into their room, helping him step into his fuzzy whale pajamas and tucking him tight into bed. All the way up from his feet to his neck, just how he likes, and finishing with a forehead kiss that has scrunching his nose up into an adorable smile before settling under the covers with the book open.

“In the great green room there was a telephone and a red balloon…” Fiddleford began reading.

And, as he drifts off to sleep surrounded by warmth and love, he lets out a whispered “G’night, papa”, which squeezes Fiddleford’s heart, which in turn means he squeezes his boy even tighter, resting his head on top of his Stanley’s. Promising, to both himself and the little nestled right here in his arms, that he’ll never waver in love and devotion to his little family.

#gravity falls #age regression #gravity falls agere #stanley pines #sfw agere #stanford pines #fandom agere #gravity falls headcanons #gravity falls stanley #gravity falls fiddleford #fiddleford hadron mcgucket #fiddleford mcgucket #gravity falls age regression #agere headcanons #age regression headcanons #fandom age regression #fandom headcanons #sfw regression #sfw agere head canons

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agere-clown · 18 days ago

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Stanford Pines Stimboard

#stanford pines #grunkle ford #gravity falls #gravity falls stimboard #stimboard #stim #character stimboard #fandom stimboard #not agere #🎥

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baby-mystery-twins · 2 months ago

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Dipper and Mabel Agere Head Canons

Both Dipper (he/him) and Mabel (she/mew/sparkle) regress to about 2-5 years old

They actually didn't start regressing until their parents divorced and their Grunkles got full custody of them when they were fourteen

They almost never regress without the other, forever twins lol

Dipper regresses to cope with their parents treatment of him and their divorce, as well as wanting a childhood where he isn't forced to be a girl

Mabel regresses to cope their parents divorce as well as her fears of growing up and Dipper leaving mew

There's also definitely some lasting trauma from experiencing the apocalypse at age 12 that they both experience

Dipper likes playing in the woods, being read to and watching Stanford work while he tells him stories of the multiverse

Mabel likes looking for cute cryptids, coloring/arts and crafts and, helping Stanley make new attractions for the Mystery Shack

Stanley worries about the kids because he knows this is response to trauma but he absolutely adores taking care of them when their little, it reminds him of when they were that age the first time

Stanford feels like this might have been an all too generous blessing from the axolotl, letting him protect and care for his niblings that he never got to see before the age of 12

Divider one, two, three. DNI

#gravity falls #dipper pines #mabel pines #stanley pines #stanford pines #grunkle stan #grunkle ford #gravity falls agere #sfw agere #sfw littlespace #regressor dipper #regressor mabel #cg stan #cg ford #pines family #trans dipper pines

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softpawpup · 1 month ago

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— regressor ! stanford pine headcannons !! ( request from @soft-lil-puppy )

👓 loves doing science experiments, especially ones that go kaboom

📚 collects any shiny thing he seems

🔬 sucks on his paci really hard when he's super focused and concentrated

👓 falls asleep when you play with his hair or sing him a lullaby

📚 has a hard time sleeping when he's not regressed

🔬 usually a middle regressor but sometimes regresses as a toddler

👓 not a big music little, prefers listening to tv shows or podcasts

📚 likes watching you cook and hovering around you

🔬 very clingy baby, needs to be beside you at all times, is usually touching you in some way whether thats holding your hand, holding your shirt, pressing his legs against yours, etc.

👓 likes trying to be a big kid when's little, but wants to be told how small he is

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lttl3babybug · 4 months ago

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okay sorry for another question but … how do you feel about ford… as a caregiver.. for someone who pet regresses .. perchance -🐈

I also feel strongly about it. And PLEASEEEE do NOT be sorry. I very much love requests (even if there’s like 9 others in my inbox, I WILL get to them I swear) please feel free to send them away. Or even your own thunks that i might be able to elaborate on 😔🫶 I also don’t believe I’ve ever wrote petre content before, so congrats on being the first!

Cg!Stanford Pines, Petre!Reader Headcanons!

🪬Ford is very fascinated with the idea pet regression and pet dreaming

🪬Same as he was with agere but this is different, this is something new.

🪬He is definitely willing to be involved in your regression, taking mental notes of your behaviours when you’re sort of falling between headspace’s

🪬Let’s you sit by him while he works, occasionally reaching down at petting you to hear your soft purrs/whines

🪬He’s also very happy to play with you, throwing balls/Sticks or pointing a laser pointer round the room while you scramble to get it

🪬He finds it all very entertaining to watch and as long as you’re happy he’s happy to help

🪬He will huff and roll his eyes if you plonk yourself in his lap while he’s relaxing but in reality loves the vibrations of your purring on him

🪬EAR SCRITCHES

🪬he’s seen it work on dogs and cats before so why not you 🤷

🪬If you respond well that is his GO TO form of praise

“Good pet” Ford hums, running his fingers through your hair and gently scratching behind your ear while you were sprawled out on his lap

🪬Treats. Treats. Treats.

🪬Carries a little baggy of human safe pet treats in his inner coat pocket to give you

🪬They’re just cookies he’s either made or those Scooby snack cookies you can get in the store so it’s not as suspicious if others see

🪬But he loves giving you treats

🪬He’s also a sucker for watching you sit in sun puddles

🪬Ford WILL melt if you do the head tilt and make a small hum of confusion

🪬Bap

🪬Bap bap bap

🪬He baps back

🪬Course he’s very confused at first because you’ve just placed your paw on his face and nudged him with your head as if expecting something

🪬Eventually he gets it and it becomes fun game!

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smallcloudes · 3 months ago

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Gravity Falls Agere Headcanons

Regressor!Dipper Headcanons

Tries to pretend he’s feeling older than he is (It always backfires)

Age range is usually 2-3, tries to play it off like he’s 5-6

Experiences verbal shutdowns, both partial and full blown silence

On multiple occasions he’s come sobbing to Grunkle Ford, Grunkle Stan and even sometimes+ Mabel because he regressed too deep to read his mystery novels

he hates most kids books, they’re too simple for him and he finds them really boring

Takes Grunkle Ford’s sweater everytime he regresses, even when he doesn’t realize he’s regressed he’ll just go and snatch it compulsively

Often tries to pretend he’s not regressed, always fails and is always surprised when others know he’s regressed (despite the fact that wearing Ford’s sweater is the most obvious tell-tale sign)

Has a meltdown whenever someone takes or he misplaces his hat, he only doesn’t when he takes it off himself or gives the other permission

Often sneaks into Ford’s bunker to figure out what Ford is working on (which is much harder when he can’t read), falls asleep halfway through almost every time

One time he drooled on one of the papers and ruined the page of notes then upon discovering this cried so hard he threw up, Ford wasn’t even mad and had copies of that page

Multiple times has run his own “experiments” with a complete disregard for his own safety

He takes off his hat and puts on safety goggles, but the safety goggles are a broken kids toy and he’s still wearing Ford’s sweater which is ABSOLUTELY MASSIVE on his tiny body

He always ends up breaking something or hurting himself (which always results in a lot of tears)

Very sensitive when regressed

Started regressing as a way to cope with his anxiety and paranoia, continued regressing to cope with literally everything that happened to them that summer, good God could you imagine going through that when you were 12???

Tries to be independent

Should not be

Like seriously, this kid cannot take care of himself and should not be trusted alone

Constantly sneaks off to prove he can be independent (he always proves he can’t)

Will do anything to avoid talking about his regression outside of it

Regressor!Mabel Headcanons

Is not shy AT ALL about her regression

Age range is about 3-5

Never shuts up about being older than Dipper when regressed, he always pretends to not know what she’s talking about (in a multitude of ways)

Just as crafty when regressed as she is when not

Just a bit more clumsy and her crafts turn out a bit messier

She cries when they break

Very energetic

Extremely loud and talkative

No one understands her half the time but everyone always just goes along with it

Will not take no for an answer when she wants to play

Actually very responsible when regressed with full capability to be independent, she just chooses not to be

One time she ate an entire tub of glitter and threw up a literal rainbow of sparkles on Grunkle Stan in the middle of rough housing

One of the few times she actually had a full meltdown over something that wasn’t a craft breaking

Its extremely difficult to actually make her upset (again, besides the crafts thing)

She rarely has tantrums and meltdowns

Stubborn but for the most part a really obedient kid

Started regressing to cope with aging, continued regressing because that fear only strengthened over the summer and also EVERYTHING THEY WENT THROUGH AGAIN OH MY GOD

Thinks Grunkle Stan calls her Pumpkin a lot cause he really likes pumpkins

Everything she gives Stan when regressed has something to do with a pumpkin if not one on it

Stan was actually very indifferent to pumpkins before this started happening

He now actually does really like pumpkins because of Mabel

Considered Waddles her only caregiver before Stan and Ford discovered the twins regress

Still considers him one

Dipper used to be her primary caregiver before he started regressing himself which became an issue of if one regressed the other does too

Actually really does love being a big sister and looking after Dipper for Grunkle Stan and Ford for a little bit, even when she’s already regressed herself

She often overhears them discussing both needing to leave but not knowing what to do with Dipper and offers to take care of him

They never ask her to, she always volunteers

Caregiver!Grunkle Stan Headcanons

Approaches being a caregiver the same way he approaches being a Grunkle and guardian

Has a hard time softening himself when the twins are regressed

Which has caused many a problem where Dipper gets so sensitive when regressed

Tends to get a bit hot headed and gives harsher punishments

Is a lot more lenient

Often joins in on any chaos being created

More often than not it's joining in on Mabel's nonsense but there has been a few times where he joins in on Dippers experiments (The outcome being the same, something broke or someone got hurt and Dipper cried)

Pretends to be jealous of Waddles ‘being a caregiver’

Is genuinely a little confused by and jealous of Waddles ‘being a caregiver’

Tries to fight with Ford a lot less when he knows the twins are regressed

It’s proven to be incredibly difficult for him

There have been a few times when it proved to be too difficult and he consequently had to spend the rest of the day consoling and apologizing to the twins

Gets really into the games the kids make up, especially when he sees an opportunity to include violence

He WON’T go easy on them or let them win, they have to do so fair and square

This has led to more than one Dipper meltdown. His meltdowns change absolutely nothing about Stan’s behavior

The best storyteller ever. He does voices, big crazy hand motions, he puts his own spin on things, you could not ask for someone better

Because of this Dipper has gradually been going to Grunkle Stan a lot more for ‘Dip and Stan time’ as he calls it

Loves doing arts and crafts with the kids, especially if it leads to a new attraction for the shack

More than happy to load the twins up with sugar, conveniently always leaves them in Ford’s care before it really kicks in

Goes a little too far with rough housing often, he has been the cause of a need for many bandaids and many comfort cuddles

He genuinely doesn’t realize he’s going to far, he just gets really into it when he’s playing with Dipper and Mabel

He really does love them so much and wants to go all out for them (Not that he’ll ever say that tho)

More than once he has kicked out a customer for saying something rude or snarky about the twins behavior when they were regressed.

One time Stan body slammed a man for calling them freaks (after having spotted them with pacifiers through the door from the shop to the house)

Caregiver!Grunkle Ford Headcanons

Is actually the most experienced with age regression out of all of them (from, yk, not being in that dimension for 30yrs)

Everyone thinks he’s the newest one to it out of all of them

He’s actually just that clueless about kids

Is excitedly waiting for the day Dipper actually asks to do an experiment with him

Dipper always does them alone or just observes Ford while he works, which secretly devastates Ford every time

Is a lot more patient and gives very light punishments

Is so much stricter, very worried about health and safety and rule following and will not deviate from the rules he has set in his mind

Comes across colder than he means to sometimes, especially when he’s super focused/distracted

Happily lets Dipper take his sweater

He secretly takes pictures every time and keeps one in his wallet

It legit makes him so so happy

Has a harder time playing with the twins

Is very happy to sit and color, read, or watch TV with them tho

Often pulls out board games and puzzles to do with the twins

He gets more into them than the kids do

“Analyzes” any arts and crafts Dipper and Mabel give him like they’re science journals or a paranormal anomaly before proudly hanging it on a corkboard in his bunker

He’s had to get 2 more corkboards to fit them all because he refuses to throw out a single one

Was genuinely super distraught when Dipper was so scared Ford would be mad at him for drooling on one of his pages of science notes

“He was terrified of me, Stanley, petrified! I don’t want him to be scared of me- He was just a little curious and got carried away, why would I be mad at him for that? Stanley, am I doing something wrong??”

He may or may not of cried a little bit over it

Tends to over explain and complicate answers to questions the kids have

It always leaves them with more questions than answers

He caught a cold once and let the twins take care of him and it was the cutest thing he’d ever witnessed

The soup they made him ended up giving him a stomach virus on top of it

It was definitely something Mabel put in

Often tries to coax the twins to regress so he can take care of them

He missed out on a lot of when they were younger, again, yk, after not being in this dimension for 30+ years. He really wants to make up for what he’s lost

One time, he passed out in the middle of braiding Mabels hair (They were supposed to be doing makeovers)

#gravity falls #age regressor #age regression #sfw agere #agere #Dipper Pines #grunkle ford #grunkle stan #Stanford Pines #Stanley Pines #Mabel pines #mystery twins #I love this messed up little family so much #I will post fanfics eventually #Smallcloudesheadcanons+ocinfo

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jthegayfruit · 1 month ago

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i wanna hear the stanley agere hcs you had 🙏

Okay okay, I prolonged this bc IM NERVOUS >< I'm legit terrified of yall and I can't imagine disappointing yall 🥲

But yah! Stanley regression headcannons!!

This poor poor man, he doesn't even realize he's regressed most of the time which usually gets him into wild antics (basically "Legend of the Gobblewonker was him being regressed because what grown old man goes around and harasses random people on a boat with jokes LMAO)

His age is usually around 12 but can get lower on particularly bad days (or good days if Stanford is with him)

Stanford has known about it for YEARS and once he and Stanley overcame their differences Stanford helps out with Stanley's regression, usually by helping him notice he's little and keeping him out of the "adult drinks" and from chugging Pitt sodas

Definitely has a ton of plushies he's hidden away (mostly to keep mable from badazzling them or something)

Has a bunch of coloring books, loves to draw and color! Mabel totally hangs out with him and they make up silly exciting stories as they draw, Mabel even makes a few kid friendly crafts for them to do like finger painting and macaroni art (with glitter of course!)

They have to keep the door locked because Stanley WILL find a way outside and won't come back until late in the day, usually covered in sticks, pine needles, mud and leaves

Stanford has invested in a harness for Stanley, one of those retractable ones because little Stanley is an absolute handful

Eats pretty much anything off the ground (five second rule!! Except no Stanley, that's been there for a month and I've been documenting the mold that was growing on it, why did you do that)

I definitely have more but I don't want this to get too long 😅

I hope this was alright, I've deleted this and rewrote this like- 9 times dawg 😭

My blog is sfw KINK/NSFW DNI!!

#gravity falls #the book of bill #bill cipher #stanley pines #stanford pines #mabel pines #agere headcanons #sfw agere #age regression #kidre #kid regression #sfw interaction only #headcanon #regressor stanley #hes just a baby! HIII BABYYYYY #anon ask #im so nervous #baby needs a juice box 😞

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cailleachcola · 3 months ago

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i...have such a specific blurb idea.......but the words to make it good.....they elude me..

picture this (tw/cw: panic attack, mention of cuts, age regression)

stanford x reader (oc? idk if this is too specific to be for reader)

reader works at shack, breaks snowglobe, has a panic attack, cuts their hand while scrambling to clean up the glass.

stan comes in grumbling jokongly abt "breaking my merchandise, s2g 🙄" and then realizes reader is NOT okay! takes reader down to ford in the basement bc "he can patch u up better" (thats a lie, but ford can help more with calming reader down ((he knows from experience)))

as ford cleans and bandages up readers wounds, hes trying to ask what happened, reassure them that nobody is upset with them, comes to the realization that they are nonverbal and showing other signs of being regressed.

he gets them a blankey and some juice and a hug and its just super sweet and fluffy 😭

can you tell ive been regressing a lot lately? does it show?

#gravity falls #stanford pines #the book of bill #bill cipher #dipper pines #mabel pines #stanley pines #waddles the pig #age regression #sfw agere #stanford pines x reader

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bearcubblues · 1 month ago

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do you make requests for gravity falls if so could you make hcs about little Stanford and CG Stanley?

YEAH i can do that!!! gravity falls is one of my oldest interests :3 and the stans are probably my fav characters... so ya!

unsure at what point in their life you're after here so i'll just do a little bit of everything !

1.) as kids

-i think ford's regression would start to present itself in late middle school. for me, that's when school started to get to where i needed to actually try, and i think ford would experience something similar - i think stress would lead to him wanting to enjoy the things he did when he was a kid again

-neither of them would know this behavior had a name - stan was just excited that his brother wanted to play again

2.) high school

-by high school ford would know with certainty what was happening - it would never be something he did often, because he would be incredibly embarrassed

-he never fully explained it to stan, but stan knew when ford would act different, and would always make him snacks and make sure filbrick never saw ford acting different

3.) adulthood

-after meeting bill, regression became something different for ford - obviously bill was aware of it and liked it when ford did it around him. but it wasn't ever the same without stan

-stan pretty much forgot about all of it. he had always just brushed it off as ford being kind of weird so it wasn't really something memorable. of course ford was weird

4.) current day/events of the show

-by now ford felt like he could actually explain the concept to stan - who will nod and say yes he totally gets it. no need to explain further. then that night go and read 4,652 articles about it

-next day he asks ford if he still does it and if he even wants him to take care of him anymore. because he would love to

-which was very difficult for him to say and very difficult for ford to hear because he can't fathom someone actually wanting to care for him

-they spend a lot of time reading and drawing and exploring. ford mostly takes the reins and stan just makes sure he doesn't get hurt. ford's motor control is bad when he's regressed (he just like me for real) so there's a lot of stan helping him step over logs or climb big rocks

-the kids don't technically know about it but mabel knows what agere is and found some of ford's drawings once and has a sneaking suspicion. but she won't bring it up because she doesn't want to embarrass anyone

these were fun sorry it took me 3000 years to write them. i am so busy all the time

#bear babbles #gravity falls #gravity falls agere #agere headcanons #stanley pines #stanford pines #stan pines #ford pines #ask

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the-universal-sun · 18 days ago

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fiddleford being gentle with little stan when he first finds him after ford goes through the portal? maybe he comes to yell at ford and finds stan with a burned shoulder trying to work through being little to get his brother back? ❤️

Hey guys and the anon who requested this, I’m so sorry it’s so late, life got away from me, has been hectic, and I wanted to really put my focus into writing this request. If there are any missing “I” in a word, deeply apologies, my keyboard “i” cover broke halfway through writing this. There are some mentions of infections and medical treatment for Stan’s burn, just to warn you if any of that skeeves you out! If this seems way better than my previous work, it’s because I took about a week to write it! I really hope you enjoy this piece, and I hope the anon who requested it is still here! Please let me know if I've captured your vision!!!

As always, I’m open for helpful advice on my writing/execution!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ford! Stanford Pines you come out here right now! I demand we talk!” Fiddleford H. McGucket was mad. Fuming. Pissed beyond all belief. He had just remembered some snippets of the portal incident and he knows his old partner (and little) was still working on it for that devil! He needs to make that man see some sense. Thankfully, Stanford hadn’t changed his locks or the passcode to the basement, so he’s able to stop down three flights of stairs to the bottom floor of the lab to confront him.

“Stanford! I know you can hear me! Come out here right-now?” He stops short at the sight before him. The portal is broken down, machinery and wiring everywhere, broken and sparking. That’s not what makes him stop, no, it’s the figure in front of the control center. He looks…he looks ragged, haggard, even. His hair long and greasy, his skin looks dirty and sweaty, and he looks almost exactly like Stanford. Except gruffer. It hasn’t been that long since Fiddleford has seen his old partner, has it? He can’t have changed this much in just a few months. It’s when he gets a glimpse at the hands that it clicks in his mind. That’s not Stanford. He tries to think rationally before he freaks out and starts attacking the stranger, he’s gotten arrested for that a couple times already. He looks like Stanford, just rounder and greasier and with five fingers instead of six…He vaguely remembers a discussion him and Stanford had back in college, they were celebrating finishing their first set of finals with some well earned and homemade Hooch courtesy of you-know-who when the man had started muttering and was on the verge of sobbing about a “Lee”, and when FIddleford asked who that was, all Stanford could manage to get out before passing out was “M’ Twin”. And they never spoke of that incident again, Fiddleford putting that memory on a backburner until now.

So this must be that Lee fella, Stanford’s twin. Something must have happened if he’s here in that state and Stanford is nowhere to be seen. Something bad. This fills him with panic instead of anger, worry for his Bookworm his friend overpowering his negative emotions towards him. He walks quickly towards Lee, his steps slowing down as he gets the full view of this man, his ears picking up his intelligible muttering. He looks more than greasy and unwashed, he looks sick. He can see gauze on his shoulder, stained with pink and a different color, one he can’t quite make out in the poor lighting of the lab, but it twists his stomach nonetheless.

“H-hey, Lee? Um-what happ-are you okay? Is F-Ford-” Fiddleford doesn’t quite know what to say to this man, who looks both so much like Ford but so different. Who looks sick. He makes the mistake of putting his hand on the man’s shoulder, flinching back as he turns around violently with a fist raised promising a world of pain. Fiddleford shrinks into himself with a small and terrified squeal. Lee stumbles back, though, eyes glossy and distant, the defensive act just muscle memory at this point. He seems like he’s about to slide against the console and fall, soFiddleford reaches out to help steady him, thankful for all the pig wrangling and calf birthing he’s had to do in his life back on the farm, Lee is heavier than Ford was is. He gets a better look at Lee’s face and feels his own pale, blood rapidly draining and leaving him feeling cold. Whatever injury he has on his shoulder has to be inflected, the man is burning up and sweating something fierce, low and intelligible mumbles spilling from his mouth, his bangs sticking to his forehead, the slight smell of sickness wafting over him. They’re both lucky Ford was able to synthesize and stock high grade antibiotics in case they ever needed them, because he needs them, that or a hospital, and he doesn’t know anything about Ford’s twin, not even enough to explain what had happened to him.

Propping Lee up against the console and making sure he wouldn’t fall, he quickly managed to run to a storage room to the right, temperature controlled to keep cool. He finds the medical supplies very diminished, but most of the antibiotics were there. Both worrying and relieving him. Ford had gotten injured so much to deplete their medical supplies this much? They were essentially prepared for an apocalypse. But the relief is that Ford never needed these hospital grade antibiotics, only to be used for serious infection. He collects the medicine, bandages, and any other thing he can think of, putting them in an empty first aid bag and slinging it around his shoulder, making his way back to Lee as fast as he could manage. Fiddleford hauls him up and leans him against his side, stumbling his way to the elevator that he could never bring himself to trust. He has to now, he can’t carry this man up all the flights of stairs that lead into the house.

Fiddleford breathes in deeply, glancing over at Lee from the corner of his eye, releasing his breath when he sees he’d hardly even registered change in surroundings or the fact that he had moved, his eyes gazing distantly down onto the floor. Fiddleford resolutely moves him into the open elevator, propping him against the wall and quickly pressing the buttons needed to bring them back up to the main part of the house. Lee stumbles as the elevator moves, an almost frightened whimper escaping him as the elevator creaks and groans, chugging slowly along, his hands finally moving on their own to grasp onto Fiddleford in a move that puts the skinny man almost in front of him. Something deep inside him tightened at the sight; Lee looked more like a lost child than a grown man. "Stay with me, Lee," Fiddleford murmured, his voice steadier than he felt. "We’re gonna get you sorted out. Just hang in there, okay?" A low whimper escaped Lee's lips, eliciting a rush of empathy from Fiddleford. It was clear that Stanford's twin had been through an ordeal far beyond what he could comprehend. The least he could do was ensure that Lee would be safe for the time being.

As the elevator doors dinged open, Fiddleford slowly moved with Lee out into the dark room, just registering how cold it was-is the heating even on? Was the bill paid or was all the power just directed to that damn portal room? Fiddleford glanced around, his mind racing. “I need to get you to a bathroom and a bed,” he decided. He gently helped Lee step out of the elevator, the man leaning heavily against him. He maneuvered him toward the stairs, taking them one step at a time and going very slowly, Fiddleford may be tall but Lee was bulkier than he was, he didn’t want to risk Lee toppling over and falling down the stairs, injuring both himself further and the one currently helping him walk. They stumble their way upstairs, Fiddleford having to haul Lee up again when he started to slump too closely to the side, and towards the extra bathroom on the second floor-Fiddleford remembers this one having better lighting and not being as cramped as the downstairs bathroom. He gently deposits Lee on the toilet, worrying about his lack of response to the movements and light being turned on-at least the power still works up here-ever present. Setting the first aid bag on the coffee table, he knelt beside Lee, anxiety gnawing at him. “Okay… let’s see what we’re dealin’ with here.” Fiddleford pulled back the gauze on Lee’s shoulder, and his breath caught in his throat. The shoulder was inflamed, swollen with an angry red hue, the bandaging far too stained for comfort. He can’t even tell what was burned into his shoulder from how bad it was. Lee’s eyes fluttered open slightly, revealing a hint of recognition.

“Wha—who…” Lee’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper, and he couldn’t manage to say full words. Fiddleford didn’t know how much he knew about Ford’s work, meaning he doesn’t know if Lee even knows about him, but, with how out of it he is he figures some small trickery shouldn’t be too bad, people tend to respond better to help by people they know, or well, are told they know.

“It’s just me, Lee, your good ol’ pal, Fidds. You remember, right? We’re great friends, you n’ I.” He holds his breath as Lee just nods along, the fever and infection ravaging his body obviously making it difficult to properly think back on his words.

“For…” Lee trails off, his word soft and incomplete, but Fiddleford knows what he was trying to say and felt a pang of heartbreak at the mention of Stanford.

“He’s… he’s not here right now. But I’m gonna take care of you, alright? Just focus on me.” He carefully began cleaning the wound, glancing up to gauge Lee’s reaction. Lee sniffled, biting his lip, but didn’t pull away, his eyes still hazy and glazed over. Fiddleford doesn’t think he’ll be lucid for a while now. Each moment that passed seemed to drag on, filled with Lee’s fragile breaths and the quiet sounds of their surroundings. What was supposed to be a simple act of care felt monumental. Fiddleford bandaged the injury carefully, relying on the knowledge they had accumulated over the years. “You’re gonna be alright, Lee. Just gotta get the antibiotics into ya, and you’ll start feeling better in no time.” He goes and pulls out the bottles of antibiotics, some IV fluids to help with Lee’s obvious dehydration, and the collapsible IV pole that he’d made-maybe a bit overkill for the time but it was perfect for now. He rounds Lee, finding his eyes already on him. “Heya, Lee, can I see your arm? I need ta’ give ya’ some antibiotics to help with your infection.” But the man made no movement or noise indicating he understood what Fiddleford was saying. He took his arm in gentle hands, swabbing and cleaning the inner elbow before inserting the butterfly needle-hushing Lee when he made strangled whimpering noises, seeing a glimmer of tears come to his eyes. He pats Lee’s head, unconsciously cooing to him as he leans his head into Fiddleford’s touches, a soft sigh and hum passing through his lips.

“Let’s getcha up now, need to get you in some clothes, though m’ afraid no shirts for a little while, you need as little as possible on that burn o’ yours.” Fiddleford stood up, stumbling in surprise as Lee’s hand grasped his, standing up with him and still staring, more clarity in his eyes, but still nothing indicative of being fully present. Fiddleford took a steadying breath, trying to calm the rising tide of worry threatening to overwhelm him. As they shuffled into the small, dimly lit hallway, Lee's gaze began to clear a bit, though it still flickered with confusion and fear. Fiddleford was grateful for the flicker of awareness and desperately hoped that Lee would be able to grasp even a thread of comfort in this chaos. “C’mon, Lee. Let’s get you settled, alright?” he murmured. The soft squeeze of Lee’s hand around his reassured him that the man could understand him to an extent, enough for his body to respond, at the very least. He makes his way to an open door, peering inside to see if it was acceptable enough for Lee to sleep in. It seems that this was the room he was staying in, though, if the clothes thrown about and rustled blankets on a small bed were of any indication. Steadily, they hobble into the room, Fiddleford holding Lee’s hand and steadying him as they walk, keeping an eye on the IV to make sure it doesn’t get snagged or trip over anything. He sets Lee down on the edge of the bed, making sure he won’t fall over, before searching around the room for some soft and hopefully clean pants, only finding some faded sweats. They didn’t seem too filthy, so Fiddleford deemed them as okay for now and turned around before stopping dead center, eyes assessing the scene before him. Lee had, from somewhere, grabbed a teddy bear-one with a remarkable similarity to Stanford-and was grasping it tightly, his body hunching over to bury his face in the soft cloth. He could see the slight trembling in Lee’s shoulders as he held the toy, hiding behind its plush form. An epiphany struck Fiddleford…it’s possible that Ford and Lee were more similar than just in looks.

“Hey, buddy,” Fiddleford spoke softly, moving closer, careful not to startle Lee. “That’s a nice bear you’ve got there…” as he came closer, he saw a blanket strewn on the bed behind Lee, a large quilt with what looked to be some crudely sewn Teddy Bears on it. Fiddleford’s heart ached at the sight of Lee clutching the teddy bear, drawn into its warmth and softness as he huddled over it, the blanket behind him just solidifying his thoughts. The plush creature and quilt seemed to offer a sense of security amid all this chaos and confusion. He knelt beside the bed, keeping his voice soft and calm. “Hey there, Lee. Let’s get ya’ some pants, alright? Just something comfortable for now.” Lee remained silent, his gaze still fixed on the bear. Fiddleford moved quickly to the small dresser, pulling out the faded sweats he had spotted earlier. He returned to Lee, who hadn't shifted from his position, burying his face against the bear's plush fur. “Hang tight, ‘right?” Fiddleford said, moving in front of Lee. He carefully helped him remove the old, dirty pants, mindful of Lee’s discomfort. With each movement, he offered gentle reassurances, softening the air with his presence. “We’re almost done.” He knows the other man can’t understand him, not fully, but Fiddleford knows from experience that talking to a kid or someone in this mindset can help keep them calm, and calm is what Lee needs right now.

“How’s about we lay back down now, okay? Rest yer’ head on that pillow and just breathe in, ‘kay? Some quiet time.” Lee absentmindedly nodded, his grip on the bear tightening momentarily before loosening again. He leaned back, still looking dazed and feverish, but more comfortable now that he was semi-clean and dressed with fluid running into him. Fiddleford decided to remain quiet for a little while, too, letting the soft sounds of the house settle around them. The air was a little chilly, but Fiddleford figured they could tackle that issue soon enough. He slowly brings his hand towards Lee’s head, watching for any signs of flinching or cowering before he lowers it and softly begins to stroke his hair, cooing softly as Lee’s eye fluttered closed, his head leaning into the hand gently caressing him, soft murmurs escaping his lips. Fiddleford, with one practiced hand, pulls the blankets over Lee, the thinner ones first, the thicker comforter that was piled on the floor, and finally, Lee’s well-loved quilt, tucking them around the gentle creature before him, keeping his IV arms out of most of the layers besides to top quilt.

Fiddleford's heart warmed at the sight of Lee nestled under the blankets, the calming rhythm of his breathing creating a peaceful atmosphere in the room, he felt a swell of protective instinct for the man beside him. “Just like that, Lee. Nice n’ comfy n’ cozy,” he murmured softly, continuing to thread his fingers through Lee’s hair, taking care to avoid any tug on the IV line. Lee seemed to lean further into Fiddleford’s touch, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he began to relax into the layers of warmth wrapped around him. As Fiddleford settled into a rhythm, the gentle motion of his hand seemed to draw Lee deeper into a state of comfort-deeper into his headspace if Lee’s soft chewing of the bear’s ear before Fiddleford removed it was anything to go by. The world around them faded into the background, the cold chill of the air outside kept at bay by the cocoon of blankets. The sound of breathing filled the room—the steady rise and fall of Lee’s chest mixed with Fiddleford’s quieter, more measured breaths.

“Y’know, I used to do this for your brother, too,” Fiddleford’s voice cut through the silence, “When he felt younger-smaller-the world feeling too big for him. I was there to help him and take care of him. I wouldn’t mind being that person for you, neither. I don’t know what happened with our Ford, but I hope you’ll tell me.” Fiddleford breathes into the silence, just staring at Lee, who’s dozing off surrounded by his teddy and warmth of the blankets. “I want to take care of you, I’ve missed takin’ care of someone, actually. N’ I have more than enough room in my heart to add another person.” Lee made a soft, indistinct noise, his eyes still closed, as if he somehow understood the intent behind Fiddleford's words. Fiddleford smiled softly, hoping that the weight of his sincerity could reach Lee’s subconscious, anchoring him in a sea of uncertainty.

Closing his eyes for just a moment, Fiddleford let the sounds of the house mingle with Lee's breathing, the gentle cadences a soft lullaby. He found his own fatigue creeping in, but he fought it off for the sake of his friend. Lee needed someone to hold firm and steady in this chaotic world, and he was more than willing to take on that role. After some time, Fiddleford felt the room grow quieter—Lee's breathing became more even, deeper. He risked glancing at Lee's face, noticing the way his features had relaxed under the quilt, the tension that had gripped him slowly dissipating as he found solace in sleep. There was something reassuring about seeing him at peace like this, a small flicker of hope sparking in Fiddleford’s heart.

“Just keep resting,” Fiddleford whispered, pulling gently at the edges of the blankets around Lee, tucking him in a bit more snugly. “I’ll be here.” The rest of the night was full of soft snuffles and easy sighs, this little corner-their little corner-of the world tucked away for a few hours, peace falling around them

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