#but if Ford stayed here with no help?

[sarcasticamaleont]

Me almost falling asleep going full conscious with a cold sweat: "Actually, if it was Stanly to go through the portal instead of Ford, Ford probably would have not done anything to get Stan back because he knew what all the implications of reactivating the portal were and would not want to risk the dimension's safety for his brother's life (also because he was very mentally unstable and did not hold Stan in hight regards at that time) unlike Stan, that spent 30 years to trying to bring him back. So he would just probably stew in his own guilt for 30 years still trying to find a way to stop Bill until the twins arrived at his doorstep."

[235uranium]

lost the post I meant to rb but tattooed ford >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

[crossexaminationallegro]

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[errorsystemfailure]

tag dump

ignore this i'm just trying to clear out my drafts folder again

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can you please do some headcanons of a reader who was dating Ford before he went into the portal and after stayed at gravity falls to help Stanley with the portal. Mabel calls reader their great aunt/uncle. Basically how they would interact with the twins and Stan! (And a little reunion with Ford if you feel up to it 🤭)

Watching helplessly as Ford got sucked into the portal hurt but what hurt more was thinking that you’ll never see the man you first met way back in college again, that he was lost to wherever that portal lead towards. That and the utter desperation on Stan’s face as he tried to pulling and pushing the heavy lever, looking back at the portal in hopes that it did something; it didn’t the portal remained dead.

You felt as though the wind was knocked out of you when you saw him vanish before your eyes, unable to do anything to stop it due to the distance between the two of you. You thought you had heard your heart break that day also when you felt the first string of tears fall from your eyes as you collapsed on the floor of the disheveled lab, only to be pulled into Stan’s arms as he too cried for the loss of his brother.

‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, we’ll get him back I promise you.’ He said again your shoulder as you both wept in the other’s arms. All you could think about was Ford and your memories with him.

Ford was gone and both you and Stan were left wishing this was all a bad dream before banding together in order to bring Ford back, the pain of loosing him was enough to give you and Stan a reason to stay in Gravity Falls, even when everything reminded you of Ford’s hard work and exploration into the unknown.

Even when you held his journals against your chest tight while looking for a place to hide them forever as per Ford’s instruction, only to settle to hide one in a secret compartment on Ford’s workbench. Going so far as to scattering the third one deep in the woods and the second journal god knows where in the hope that no one, not a single soul ever comes across them, all the while you and Stan spent a large chunk of your lives trying to withhold the biggest secret in known history.

Your relationship with Stan was not the greatest to begin with but after a brief moment on the rooftop of the shack, where he’d ask you what his brother was like, seeing as how at this point you knew his brother on a more intimate level then he did after so long with no contact with one another.

‘He’s like an enigma, a complex equation that couldn’t be easily solved, so complex yet simple that it made figuring him out all the more harder but it was made worth it in the end.’ You tell him with a smile on your face.

‘Sounds like Stanford alright.’ Stan muses as memories of his childhood with Ford flooded his mind. You hummed in agreement before looking up at the stars before noticing a familiar constellation. ‘Orion.’ You then said out of the blue.

‘What?’ Stan replied, confused as he searched the sky for the constellation you were on about.

‘One of Ford’s favourite constellations is Orion alongside the Ursa Major constellation.’ You explained to him before feeling a sense of melancholy filled your chest upon realising that Ford wasn’t here to gush over the multiple fact he knew about the infamous constellation.

‘Oh.’ Was all Stan said as he finally managed to spot the constellation you were talking about with fondness. You looked over to him and gave him a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder. ‘I’m sorry you lost your brother again.’ You say softly as Stan tries to hide his emotions by waving you off.

‘I’m sorry you lost your boyfriend.’ He echoed the sentiment as you both went back to watching the Orion constellation in comfortable peace, both hoping that wherever Ford was he was seeing his favourite constellation too in a desperate attempt to feel some connection to him again. From then on you and Stanley became somewhat friends that acted like siblings more often then not with the rough housing, the pranks and the occasional want to punch a shitty little teenager, he would often times call you his in-law on some occasions when it was just you and him in the shack.

‘I wish Ford would’ve married you.’ Stan tells you on the anniversary of the day Ford went through the portal. ‘Then you could’ve been my in law for real but I guess that doesn’t matter because I already see you as my annoying in law already, my family.’ He admits and you playfully punch his shoulder while feeling sentimental over his causal declaration.

‘Shut up you big goof ball.’ You said with a chuckle as you wiped away your tears. ‘You’re my family too and have been for a long while.’ You added.

You were there with Stan when Mason (Dipper) and Mable were born, you both loved the kids so much that you tried to leg it with them once because neither of you wanted to put them down for a single second. This had soon became a story you loved to retell the twins when they came to stay with you and Stan in Gravity Falls.

‘Grunkle/ great aunt y/n!’ Mabel cried as she dropped her bags before quickly running to you as you bend down to hold her close.

‘My little shooting star!’ You greeted her with equal excitement, pressing kisses to her forehead as she chuckled. ‘How have you been? Done anything fun and fabulous recently?’

‘Only bedazzle dippers face when he was sleeping once.’ Mabel stared proudly as you saw Dipper pout and his cheeks grow red from embarrassment. ‘Don’t tell grunkle/ great aunt y/n that! I spent a week trying to get those plastic rhinestones off of my face.’ He grumbled as he rubbed his cheek as though he was still trying to get the fake Rhinestones off of his face.

You chuckled at them and can’t help but be reminded of the stories Stan told you of him and Ford when they were younger, dipper and Mabel were more alike to their grunkles then they’ll ever know but you’d like to say you even saw bits of yourself in them also.

‘Well I’m sure we’re going to do a whole lot more bedazzling but just not on people’s faces.’ You said while pinching Mabel’s cheeks, causing her to laugh and swat her hands at you. ‘That tickles.’ She cries as you stop pinching and poking her cheeks to hold her hand as you both walk over to Dipper, just to lift his hat and ruffle his hair playfully. ‘And how’s my Little smart Dipper doing.’ You greeted as Dipper’s eyes light up as he told you about how he had beaten Mabel at chess, showed you his most recent doodles he had hastily shoved into his backpack.

One of his drawings was of the Orion constellation and the Ursa Major constellation respectively. ‘I know how much you liked these constellations from the last time we came to visit.’ He said as he handed you the drawing, a little embarrassed but you couldn’t help but feel a smile grow across your face as you held the drawing close to your chest. ‘Thank you dip and dots.’ You said softly as you pressed a kiss to the top of his hat. ‘I love it very, very much I shall treasure it forever my little genius.’

You loved Dipper and Mabel as though they were your own and you often spoilt the pair however you could by doing arts and crafts with Mabel one day while playing paranormal detective with Dipper as you kept him safe from harming himself the next. You encouraged them to be themselves no matter how many people might ridicule them for going outside of the norm, you wanted them to be happy as they are and feel not a single need to change for others.

You’d happily wear the sweaters and jewellery Mabel made with pride as your jumper said in loud and colourful colours; ‘proud Grunkle/Great aunt of a shooting star and a Dipper’ it made no sense to people outside of your family but it just felt right to you to wear regardless. That and it was your favourite thing to wear other than Stanford’s turtlenecks.

‘You’d love them Stanford, you’d love them as much as me and Stanley do.’ You said to no one in particular as you fell asleep on Ford’s bed that night, cuddling his pillow with an aching heart. ‘Please come back home in one piece…haven’t I suffered enough with your long absence from my life?’

They helped you enjoy life but that happiness and peace was then disturbed when the portal reopened and Stanford came out looking a lot hardened and rugged. it felt as though a being of a higher power had answered your prayer for your beloveds safe return home.

‘Stanford?’ You said in disbelief from beside Stan who looked equally in disbelief.

‘Stanford?’ Dipper asked as he looked between you and this mystery figure who picked up the first journal and pocketed it in his trench coat.

Stanford looked up at the sound of your voice and he felt like he was that giddy college student again seeing the most perfect person in his life. It had been far too long for Stanford’s liking as he noticed how you’ve aged beautifully since the last time he saw you in this very room it gave him a sense of Deja vu.

‘Y/n?’ He calls as you could only start to cry while smiling.

‘Yeah it’s me. I look a little grey here and there but-‘ you attempted to joke about your old age but Stanford had quickened his pace towards you before enveloping you in his arms, holding you close and you clung onto him just as tightly. ‘You came home.’ You whispered into his shoulder, burying yourself further into his chest in hopes of telling yourself that he was in front of you, and how this wasn’t a dream. Ford had come home.

‘Yes I’m home now my dear, I’m right here there’s no need to doubt that.’ Ford said as he rubbed up and down your back, resting his head against yours as he familiarised himself with you and your warmth and your scent once again after having been devoid of it during his time in the multiverse. ‘I’m right here.’ He repeats as he felt you grip onto him tighter while you wept into his turtleneck. He has so much to tell you about but decided to keep you in his arms instead.

You both needed this as he too had been looking at the Orion constellation, wishing that you were looking at it too with a smile on your face, after all it was your favourite constellation as a couple.

[sunniskyies]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 || 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 || 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: - 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Domestic fluff as you both settle back into life together <3 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Ford Pines x fem!reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: - 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Literally just fluff, a bit of being a guardian figure to the kids 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k 𝐀/𝐍: You guys are SO SWEET about the last one, so here's more fluff for you beautiful old man addicts <3

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 > 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 > 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑 > 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟒

The kids are in bed— well, mostly. You can hear the chirp of excited conversation through the ceiling. It was late, Stan and Ford’s explanation taking a long, long time. It didn’t help that the retelling got as thick and awkward as wet cement when it came to talk of Ford’s portal, and the events leading up to his departure.

Exhaustion tugs at every battered bone in your body, but you’re so content you might as well be purring like a kitten in front of a roaring fire.

You're curled up bridal-style across Ford’s lap, his arms enveloping you; warm, cradling, completing. He’s donned an old red knit jumper he fished out of his old chest of drawers. It smells like it belongs in a museum, sort of dusty and woodsy. Your face is pressed to his chest, and you feel much younger than your age. It feels like your first day in this house, the two of you huddled on a sagging mattress giggling and talking of futures and other such nonsense; youthful, hopeful, infatuated.

Now the two of you are more than thirty years on, enfolded together like the pages of a book left on an old yellow reading chair. You don’t speak, saving that long conversation for a lick of sunlight and mugs of coffee cupped in hand. No, right now you just sit in silence, Ford’s large hands stroking dust from your hair, a thumb gently soothing the bruise forming on your temple where you struck the wall.

Still unaware of the time except for the inky night hanging in the air, you feel Ford shift. His arms move, body ready to stand up with you. He stops when he notices two large pupils staring up at him curiously.

“You’re still awake, dear,” he smiles, voice quiet. “Let me take you to bed, I must lock up downstairs, make sure nothing vile is seeping through that blasted portal.”

“Ford, no, let’s go to sleep. You can do that in the morning,” you say, trying to ward off the edge of desperation edging into your tone. You can’t help but remember the miserable months of nights in a cold bed while your lover hid away in the basement, sleeping on his desk rather than with you. It has to be different— he’s better now.

Ford doesn’t share your fretting. “No, it’s not stable. Reopening the portal… it’s not safe to leave these things.” He continues to stand up, your body delicately draped over his arms. He seems to notice your expression. “I’ll join you soon, love.”

You doubt that. He’ll probably be there ‘till morning, his simple task snowballing as his keen eyes notice the slightest things amiss. “No, that won’t happen. No, no, I’ll join you. I’m rather accustomed to the portal myself after all this time with it.” You dismiss, stretching a leg to try and stand on the floor.

Ford bundles you up closer, “Absolutely not! You need rest, I swear I will join you.” He begins carrying you to the hall. Your fingers clutch the red fabric of his sweater. 

“Please don’t leave me,” you murmur plaintively, the corners of your mouth downturned. You miss the way Ford’s heart stutters, your eyes all hopelessly syrupy and mournful through your lashes.

He hesitates.

“Please? You can stay down there any other night I promise, just stay this time.”

His jaw tightens. “I don’t want that. Not again,” he says firmly. “Okay… I’ll… I’ll come with you.”

You immediately relax again, at ease in the rhythm of Ford’s steps as he carries you to your room. A stupid grin hijacks your face as he ever-so-gently places you under the sheets (he remembered what side of the bed). You watch from your nest of sheets as he gets ready for bed in the soft lamplight, lifting up the duvet for him to slide in next to you.

His arm around you, frothy sheets up to your neck— you think you might die here and now for how perfect everything feels. You feel his nose bump the top of your head as he presses a kiss to your hair.

“If you’d have told me this morning that… that today would be the day I would’ve never believed…” you say, heavy eyelids closing as you're interrupted by a yawn. You feel his chuckle reverberate where you lean into his chest. 

“Go to sleep, sweetness.” He murmurs, tone laced with a smile. There are his hands again, rubbing soft circles on your arm, your hair. He might as well be rubbing in anaesthesia, his touch lulling you to sleep. Darn you Pines.

Before sleep pulls you under, “I’m so glad your back, Stanford,” slips quietly from your lips. Ford’s heart skips again. Arms tighten around you as if you’re a precious photo about to float away on the wind; skin softly creased from a lifetime of loving, hair matte and grey like faded ink from thirty years of waiting.

“I’m more grateful than you could ever know, my dear,”

A stretch trembles through your warm limbs, the aches from last night dulled by a deep slumber and the warm morning sunlight soaking through the window. A thrill passes through you, your arm sliding through the sheets to Stanford’s side and—

A cry pours from you as your hand meets cold, empty space. Your body is jolted upright, perspiration glistening on your forehead. Your heart is hammering, lungs gulping in buckets of air. Where is he? Where is Ford? Did he come through the portal? Did it really happen? You don’t register the wail emanating from you, nor do you register the pound of heavy boots down the hallway.

“____ are you okay?!” Ford exclaims, almost slamming into the door as he hurries in. His hand is tense, hovering above the gun strapped to his belt.

The sight of him— the feeling you get is so overpowering it’s nauseating. Your paralysed limbs untense, body slumping in relief.

“Goddammit Stanford Pines, you just gave me the fright of a lifetime,” you bemoan, uninvited tears swimming beneath the sieve of your hands. You don’t see as his face goes from confused to slack with realisation.

“Oh,” He groans. “Oh sweetness I’m so sorry.” Feeling horrible, he leans on the bed to pull you into him, rubbing your back. “I should’ve waited for you to wake up, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m sorry, I probably scared you half to death.” You mumble, slightly embarrassed. As much as you are connected to Ford, thirty years has changed both of you, and you find yourself —embarrassingly— feeling like you need to impress him, like a teenager with a crush. God forbid he thinks ill of you!

You relish his rumble of a laugh. “I thought a monster slipped by me or something! I’m grateful you're okay.”

“Yeah, well, I think you might’ve just taken a year off my life, Ford.” You roll your eyes lovingly, a few of the last of those silly tears escaping.

After getting up and pulling on some summer-friendly clothes, you slip down to the kitchen to find the morning well underway. The sun is beating through the windows, and Dipper is sat cross legged on the floor reading a book. He’s reading with the cover down, but his furtiveness is wasted on you; you know he's reading A Good Girl's Guide to Murder. ‘Mature murder mystery books’ indeed, Dipper!

At the kitchen bench, Mabel is haphazardly balanced on a stack of books, multiple propped open at once. From the batter congealing the pages together and the fact that most of the books are iced, you know they are cookery books. And a cookbook in Mabel’s hands is either as dangerous as a matchbook to a forest, or as useless as shoes to a fish.

By the looks of it, it is the latter. Although, is there a faint… burning?

“Great Aunt ___!” Mabel squeals, revealing sprinkle-harbouring braces. “I'm baking, look I’m baking! See, I had this great idea to try and substitute the liquids in my Mabel Cakes with Mabel Juice because Grunkle Ford has never had either —can you believe that? Me neither, so I thought I could kill two birds with one stone and make them together… but I didn’t realise the plastic dinosaurs in the juice would melt in the waffle iron!—” You try to cut off the young girl’s 100-mile-an-hour babble, but that girl is unstoppable.

You wince as she holds up two fists of semi-cooked, eye-wateringly bright gobdules of cakey dough. You, pained, notice the half-melted dinosaurs, faces in liquified agony as strings of molten plastic drip from their bodies. Matchbook in forest, matchbook in forest!

“—So now it’s a bit of a Jurassic Park, another reason why I think Grunkle Ford will love it, even if it’s a bit of a.... disaster. But if you think about it it’s more like a Magical Mabel Disaster! And oh, I added extra sprinkles because you can never have too many sprinkles! Do you think the hardened dinosaurs will make up for the uncooked dough? Or should I cook it more? Doesn’t matter, it’ll taste great!”

You give her a wobbly smile, mostly because you fear what might happen if you open your mouth.

“I tried to stop her,” Dipper mutters from between his pages, voice smug and matter-of-fact.

“Oh don’t act like you're so grown-up, you’re reading a little girl's book,” she retorts in a sing-song. Dipper slams his book closed, the tips of his ears matching the cover.

“I think you’ll find it’s very sophisticated and easy to digest—”

You let the twin’s bickering fade into the background as you begin to tidy up the carnage Mabel’s baking attempt has left. Usually, she gets distracted by things quite quickly, leaving Mabel-messes scattered around for anyone to find. You don’t mind it though, all too glad to slide the Mabel Cake into the bin. You shiver. Those plastic faces… they haunt.

Ford was back down in the basement, the sounds of clanging and buzzing drifting up through the weary floorboards. You want to go down there, but that silly part of you doesn’t want to disturb him again today. No— that’s ridiculous! Ford loves your company, you don’t get in his way —it’s not like it was when Bill was around.

Five minutes later, you're standing in the small room in the basement holding a cup of coffee and a salvaged Mabel Cake. You see Ford through the glass, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tools being used and replaced back onto his belt. He’s hauling colossal slabs of metal from the sides of the portal, the machine slowly being stripped down to bone. Like a massive carcass, it creaks and groans as Ford’s tools slice away at its flesh, and you hope he’s staying well out the way each time pieces of it fall to the floor like toppling trees.

After a few moments, Ford seems to notice you through his welding mask, though you can’t see his face through the tinted visor. He perks up though, dropping a massive saw to the ground and hurrying over.

“Hello, my dear! Is it too noisy?” He says as he slips through the door, pulling off his helmet and drawing you in for a sheepish kiss.

“No, just bringing you some of Mabel’s baking efforts— you don’t have to eat it, but she was awfully excited.” Ford surveys the cake with a smile, and you resist the urge to wipe the smear of soot from his cheek. 

“Thank you. For the sustenance, and for, uh, for checking in,” he says sincerely. Is that a flush you see? Your suspicions are confirmed when you set the coffee aside and bring him in for a deeper kiss, blouse-clad arms sliding around his neck, and you feel his pulse thrum beneath his skin.

The relief you feel! You’re not the only one navigating these unknown emotions, that the man who’s mapped the multiverse is also feeling the giddy nerves you are. Your skin prickles where his degloved hands bear your skin.

It feels strange to be held romantically after so long of loneliness. It’s not that you haven’t found love with the kids and Stan, but you could never bring yourself to even look at another in the way you used to look at Ford. Even if you never finished the portal, you would’ve spent the rest of your life alone, satisfied at least in the knowledge of how it felt to be loved, once. It excites you childishly knowing just by his kiss that Ford felt the same, the way he cradles you in his gaze and with his hands as if he’s trying to reabsorb every inch.

When you break away, his eyes open after yours, and he seems to be at a loss for what to say.

“Do you, um, want to go for a walk this evening? You haven’t left the shack yet, and we haven’t truly caught up…” you offer shyly.

“Yes! That would be… splendid! Spectacular. This evening. Perfect.” He blurts. The calm of last evening has clearly floated away in the daylight for both of you.

“Perfect.” You repeat.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢��𝐭: @sleeplessdreamer14, @2hiigh2cry, @taffycandyqt, @papi-machucha, @muffin1304

© sunniskyies 2024, do not repost or translate my work

[senipsenipsenip]

Once the Pines family realizes Stan’s memory lapses are just going to be a thing after Weirdmageddon, they buy him a flip phone.

The lapses don’t happen often, only every couple of months, moreso if Stan’s been stressed, but the family wants a way Stan can reach them if he’s alone or not at home when it happens. After all, they don’t want to smother him, and Stan doesn’t want the kids to feel like they have to be his caretaker when they should be enjoying their summers.

The wallpaper is a family picture, Stan, Ford, and the kids. The pinned contact is CALL THIS NUMBER ASAP. It goes to Ford’s phone. It used to say Ford’s name as well, but they realized quickly that if Stan thought Ford was in the portal he wouldn’t bother calling. It used to say CALL FOR HELP, but had to be changed after a lapse where Stan thought he was back in Columbia, and really didn’t want to risk it in case it was a police number. Stan suggested the ASAP. That way if he thought he was still on the streets, he’d probably assume he left that note himself because it was a “business partner” that he better contact before they “contacted” him. Ford was still haunted by the day he answered the phone and, before he could state his name, heard Stanley babbling excuses and promises about money and cargo and look you can’t off me yet please just another week

He was also a little haunted by whatever it meant when Stan called and, with more venom than he’d ever heard in his brother’s voice before, said “You’re the llama guy, aren’t you?”

But usually when Ford answers the phone, Stanley is surprised it’s him. Sometimes he’s angry, sometimes he’s frantic, but Stan always listens when Ford asks him to stay where he is and wait for him to pick him up. Ford always feels a mix of emotions, realizing how hurt Stanley had been in the past yet how he would always want to see Ford again. How often he would arrive at the diner or the grocery store or, on a bad day, the lake where Stan sat confused and lost in his old fishing boat, and give his brother the greeting he should have when he came out of the portal, when Stan arrived on his doorstep thirty years ago. He wraps his arms around his brother and says it’s okay. I’m glad you called. You did the right thing. I’m here.

And together they find their way back home.

[year2000electronics]

HERE THEY ARE! here's what everyone would be in my own take on monster falls!! you can agree or disagree, it's just me having fun with it :]

my general lore for the au itself would be that the town of gravity falls is cursed, and if you stay there long enough, you get turned into a monster. most people have some reason not to leave before it's too late and the curse becomes permanent, other just give up and let it happen

monsters under the cut!

dipper: deertaur (unchanged from popular fan choice)

mabel: unicorn (unchanged from sorta-popular fan choice)

stan: gargoyle (unchanged from popular fan choice)

ford: mothman (chosen for being a cryptid, ford has mentioned moths multiple times, mothman being a "shadowy figure", stan being able to pass himself off as ford when you see them both in the dark

soos: fairy (chosen for the irony- he has canonically killed a fairy! and also that he calls everyone "dude" when fae usually take names, fae are usually tricksters but he winds up being very helpful around the shack)

wendy: ghost (chosen because she's related to archibald corduroy, the northwest mansion ghost, also that she's "non-commital" to her job and constantly vanishes from it, also ALSO that her first big episode was themed around ghosts!)

gideon: haunted doll/puppet (chosen because he has creepy doll vibes, and puppets are often associated with performance- think puppet shows, pinocchio, ventriloquist dummy- haunted dolls and living puppets also have a common theme of something childish getting a mean streak.) (also, bud would be a fox in this au as a reference to honest john)

pacifica: dragon (chosen for the northwests' miserly behavior, hoarding of treasure, and pacifica's fiery tongue)

mcgucket: robot (chosen for mcgucket's affinity for robotics, and also for the idea that once he starts using the memory gun, he starts corrupting/mass erasing his own technology and has to repair himself using junkyard scraps)

robbie: cherub (he dyes his wings black to seem like some sort of dark angel. chosen for his last name, his hoodie, and his parents' chipper demeanor. they're a family of morticians who choose to spread the love by burying couples next to each other)

"billy-bob cipher": a vessel bill specifically crafted to hunt the monsters in gravity falls. he went with the idea of a greasy redneck hunter, because that would be the form people would be least willing to argue with about carrying a bunch of guns and traps around.

[caturdwy]

ok, i don't know why i wrote this, i'm not even a ford girl, i'm a stanley girlie all the way. but this image came to me yesterday and i had to write it down, so i spent my entire class working on this. it's not finished but i don't now if i'm gonna write more. here goes nothing

pairing: stanford pines x reader

warnings: smut (?), definitely sexual. 18+, mdni

word count: 1.5k

"Is that why Stanley calls you Sixer?" You ask, breaking the silence.

Your voice gets him out of his trance, but not early enough for him to actually hear what you asked. "Huh?"

"Is that why Stanley calls you Sixer?" You repeat yourself, pointing one finger at his hands.

He lets out a laugh and nods. "Yeah, he's so creative with the nicknames." He answers, voice full of sarcasm.

"Can I touch it?" You ask, finger still pointing at his left hand, the closest to you. "Your hand, can I touch it?"

He blushes and tugs at the collar of his sweater, voice faint. "Uh, yes."

You take your hand off your thighs and touch the back of his, feather light touch as to not scare him off. You observe attentively his reaction, checking if he will wince or take it away from you. Since he stays still, you take it as a sign to continue.

You grip his hand firmly, not harshly, and pull it closer to you. His gaze follows your every move, cheeks still a bit flushed, and he swallows dry. You start to touch just his fingers, pinching his phalanxes and moving them around before pressing on them and hearing them pop. His eyes grow a bit when you do it, not expecting you to do that.

You linger a bit more on his extra pinky, still fascinated. You touch it a bit differently, and wonder if you should ask anything about it.

"May I ask you a question?" You say out loud. Well, it doesn't hurt to try.

"Yes, go on." He speaks, still watching you closely.

"Is it ever a hindrance? Like, does it work like every other finger?" You ask, still with your hands focused on popping said finger.

"No, it's never a hindrance. It works just like the rest of my hand." He replies, pulling his hand away from your touch. He wiggles his fingers, moving every phalanx to show you, and then he lifts only his extra little finger and does the same thing. "See? Full control."

You let out a smile, finding it fascinating. It's at the very least interesting. Unusual. You like it. But you also can't help how your mind goes straight to the gutter.

You can't jump on this too fast, or you'll startle him. So you put your hands back on his and pull it closer to you, like it was before.

Stanford smiles back at you, a little awkward, sure, but you can see his flattery.

"Very interesting. Must be useful." You utter.

Meanwhile, your grip on his hand gets stronger, and you use both your thumbs to squeeze his skin, pressing on spots that are usually stiff.

"It doesn't make that much of a difference. My niece, however, always says it's friendlier than a regular handshake."

You let out a little laugh while pressing your thumbs on the back of his hands, paying attention to the tendons. You hear Ford suck in a breath once you hit what is apparently the right spot. "That's adorable."

"Yeah." He agrees mindlessly, but he's not really here. He's a bit distracted, hopefully enjoying the massage. "Yeah, she's adorable."

You change your focus from the back of his hand to the palm, going straight to the spot where his thumb meets the rest, the thenar area. He hisses a bit and you stop for a second, looking at his face to check if this was still okay. You can confidently say he was more than okay, because he has his eyes closed and the face of someone who was enjoying the situation. His back was not as stiff now and had a little arch to it as his shoulders leaned in towards your touch.

You do this to the entirety of his palm, running your thumbs on the soft spot on the middle of it, pressing on the flesh of his fingers, the side of his hand, dragging all the way to to the area of his carpals. The more you press and massage, the more he relaxes. Depending on what you do you even get an approvingly hum, almost a little moan. Of course these are the things you do again and again, just to hear him make any noise.

At last, you move his wrist in little circles, improving the circulation on the area before pressing both the dorsal and ventral areas. You give the back of his hand a little kiss before placing it on his thigh again, and point to his right, the farthest away from you.

It takes him a moment to register, his brain wrapped around a fog of calmness and relaxation. He's never felt like this before, he's never gotten a massage in his life, much less in his hand. And oh boy, how bad did he need it. He didn't even know his muscles could get that stiff, hold on to that much stress. A lifetime of stress, really. With just simple strokes of your own hands, that was all gone, vaporized. He's so out of it he doesn't even blush when you kiss his hand.

He lifts his right hand and shifts on the bed, figuring out a position that would be more comfortable to stretch his arm out, but still manageable for you to keep doing the sorcery you were doing. You keep following the same procedure, pop the phalanxes first, run your thumbs on the back of his hand, then go the palm, rub the thenar area out, press on the soft spot on the middle, massage the muscles on his fingers, the works.

The more you touch him, the more he relaxes, the more he lets himself go. He's feeling so light he can almost lift off the ground. If he lays on the bed he is sure he'll never be able to leave, the mattress and him becoming one. You think about saying something, but nothing comes out, not when he looks so good like this, all relaxed. Possibly the first time he's actually relaxed in his entire life.

After you are almost done you decide it's time to speak up. "Hey, Ford."

"Hmmmm." He purrs, not bothering looking up at you.

"Do you know what this makes me think?" You ask right after giving a kiss on the same spot you did the other hand. However, you don't let it go. You keep holding it, rubbing little circles on his skin.

"Hmmmm?" He hums again, but this time tries to voice the end like a question. This prompts a tiny laugh from you.

Now's the moment, he has his guard down. You move your body carefully closer to him, placing your face near his ear. Ford can feel his warm breath on the side of his face, the skin almost burning from the sudden heat. You pull out the sexiest voice you can make and whisper lowly, like a secret and he's the only person meant to hear.

"It makes me think of how good this extra finger would feel grabbing my ass."

He nearly chokes out, being pulled from his half-dreaming state and slammed back into reality, the blood split between rushing to his face or his lower belly, straight to his dick. He takes in a sharp breath, eyes opening and growing twice the size they usually are. You give him a little giggle from the reaction, finding it a bit funnier than it should be.

With all of his attention on you now, you place yourself a bit farther from him and bring the hand you're holding to your eye view, right in front of you face. You wait for him to look you in the eyes and put his thumb on your hot tongue. He jolts at the movement, but doesn't push back. You close your lips around it and suck it all the way to the back of your mouth. When you swallow everything, you circle your tongue around his skin while dragging it out of your mouth, little by little.

Stanford feels like his body is burning. Someone might as well have drowned him in gas and set fire to it. Once your tongue leaves his finger, he feels the cooling sensation the of the air coming in contact with your saliva and his dick gets incredibly harder.

He didn't want to react this way, he really didn't. Stanley hired you as a bad joke and he was not pleased about it, but hell. He can't not be turned on when you look at him like that, lips shiny and wet, breath hot on the skin of his hand, fingers still holding him by the wrists.

When he opens his mouth to say something, you catch him off guard again by kissing his index finger. Then his middle finger, all the way to his extra pinky, which you also suck while looking at him straight in the eyes. But he's weak, so while you're still halfway done putting the thing in your mouth he closes his eyes, trying to calm down the turmoil of feelings raging inside him.

You take his finger out of your mouth and it makes a wet, loud 'pop'. You give yourself a proud smile and lick the extra saliva off your own lips, bringing your body closer to his again. In the sultriest voice you can pull off, you whisper on his ear again. "How does that sound, Mr. Pines?"

[abyssalzones]

can you tell us about your interpretation of the better world universe!!!! especially curious how stan/mystery trio works into it

hell yesssss I definitely can. ABW is maybe my favorite niche gf thing and probably the only "AU" I care about but that may be due to the fact that it's an AU that exists in the canon and we know so little about it. so it has an established foundation that you're left to fill in the details with yourself... it's like a poke bowl to me. you can put anything in there

and since I felt like it here's a bonus pic of them living their best lives pestering ford

[explanation-y stuff under ze cut because I got very longwinded]

as for specifics of how I see everything working out, there's a few key points that establish why things happened differently from canon, the most important being:

Stan agrees to hide journal #3 somewhere

Ford reunites with fiddleford and they begin working together again

both of these are already confirmed in canon, the first being the most obvious "schism" between timelines. literally everything in ABW is the way it is because stan made a different decision. kind of crazy in terms of its implications: I feel like that moment in the basement is a really good example of how stan gets so few opportunities to shape her own life (while ford is in the picture...) because of her role as the 'black sheep' twin. it's not exactly a premeditated decision to push ford into the portal, it's her acting on feelings that have been bubbling unaddressed under the surface for 10-something years at that point, and only then does she have any sort of power over the "narrative" of both her life and the story itself, something that from her pov has been ford's story. and in the canon timeline, she says no.

so like, what the hell made her say yes in ABW's timeline? this question kind of haunts me because I feel like it has to be entirely dependent on what the inside of stan's head looked like at the time. it's possible something influenced her, but overall I think it's more interesting if ford did and said all the exact same things up until this point and it really was entirely dependent on stan's decision internally.

so stan says yes, goes on a big trip to the other side of the world somehow, and buries journal 3 somewhere probably never to be found again. yay! but, uh, going on a trip like ford was suggesting would... take weeks. that would leave ford alone again. and not to have my established thoughts informed by new material or anything but bill did give him 72 hours.

so, next order of business: how in the fuck would ford convince fiddleford to rejoin him??? I'm unsure between journal 3 and tbob's information how ford may have tried to reach out to him but it seems like fiddleford was pretty adamant about staying away from that guy, out of guilt or fear of bill/the portal or both. I don't think logically it would just be a matter of ford calling him enough times or finding out where he lives- and I think that's kind of getting away from the point of why ABW is the way it is too. if stan is suddenly making decisions that are influencing ford's life, I think it would be similarly interesting if fiddleford also possessed some unique autonomy in this scenario.

aka I think ford got fucked up badly (possibly involving losing an eye) and fiddleford found him half-dead while trying to burn his house down. [mabel voice] romance!

to clarify: I don't think fiddleford is obligated to take care of ford. a major part of him leaving the project was finally making the decision to leave a situation that was hurting him, that he'd been staying in entirely because he still cared about ford and felt on some level he could still help him (which gets broken with "I don't need you!") and I think that's a very reasonable decision on his part. but I also do have to think about all the times ford has been "the hero" in situations where fiddleford ends up hurt and helpless because of something traumatizing. I think it'd be fascinating to see that reversed and have fiddleford actively making the difficult, messy decision to take care of that guy even when they're on miserable terms. and so begins like a solid week of these two desperately trying to look out for eachother in a nightmare scenario where one of them probably needs to go to a hospital + keeps getting possessed off and on and the other is going through the worst addiction/withdrawal cycle of his life irt the memory gun. yay! (part of the reason this even works To Me also is heavily informed by the lack of secrets: if fiddleford is actively dressing that guy's wounds he can't really keep it all to himself anymore. crushingly intimate perhaps...)

stan gets back eventually. such is the context of this pic

from there it's a nebulous grab-bag of things I think could happen up to the foundation of the institute.

how do all three of these incredibly fucked up individuals get along? well they don't but then they do.

how do they get bill out of ford's head without performing amateur brain surgery? idk. my best guess is a fiddleford and stan bonding trip into ford's mindscape that potentially helps answer the first question. possibly utilizing the memory gun. shrugs.

what's up with that one picture you drew of parallel fidds holding the memory gun up to ford's head? well. okay that one might or might not be something that actually happened but the idea was just that ford is coping badly with a few specific things and I liked the idea of fiddleford "holding onto" something for him to remember and work through later when he's ready to deal with it, it's an interesting reversal of how he's normally more of a memory sink.

from the point in canon about them stabilizing the portal so that bill can't use it to get into their dimension anymore onward, I think it just becomes a matter of them living the lives they could've always had in canon without realizing it. hence "a better world." some cool tidbits I like to think about:

stan gets to transition much earlier (late 1990's perhaps?) and probably starts going by "lee" instead

she's also the institute's CMO and is mostly in it for going on business trips abroad with ford. and the money. obviously.

the institute probably also legitimately changes the world on a sociopolitical scale outside of just interdimensional travel since their research renders them uniquely untouchable and all three of them are trans (I'm cartoon logic-ing a little bit here just let me have this one)

ford is the eccentric bill nye esque face of the company, fiddleford is the backbone. that isn't to say ford doesn't do anything as I think he'd always moreso be in it for the science than the fame (though it is nice to be more than comfortable financially) but it's an open secret fiddleford keeps tabs on literally everything, he's still very security-oriented.

the northwest family now has a more prominent ongoing rivalry with the pines family that could be very funny to think about. they've taken all the LOGGING JOBS with their damn SCIENCE

part of the reason I thought ford should lose an eye is because I think having him wear an eyepatch would be a neat way to parallel stan's "role" as mr. mystery visually! stan wears an eyepatch for no legitimate reason to keep up appearances as a schlocky tourist trap host, but it also alludes to her being more than she seems under the surface. ford's eyepatch does sort of have a legitimate reason to exist, but he also could just wear his glass eye and it would probably be less "conspicuous." he chooses the eyepatch instead because it's part of his image as Stanford Pines, Founder of Oddology, and because it keeps him safe. there's also a little residual scarring there from damage to his eyelid/tarsal plate which could easily represent him hiding the more "damaged" aspects of himself under his successes. ouch.

I'm unsure if ford and stan would ever feel comfortable getting back in touch with their parents. I know a lot of people go that route with fan material but I don't think they should have to. I think they're much happier now having healed the rift between them on their own and getting to live successful lives for themselves, rather than to prove something to their father.

that being said I do think fiddleford gets in touch with emma-may and his son again and they end up on better terms with time and a Lot of effort. tate's family is now composed of his father, mother, "uncle" ford (in the ye olde gay closeted sense of referring to your dad's partner as an uncle), and auntie lee, and I like to think they go out on trips to the lake together often :]

also ford and fiddleford tie the knot unofficially (in the eyes of the government anyway) in 1990. owed to stan somehow getting "ordained" as a rabbi. don't ask me how.

the pines twins start visiting the institute from a younger age than they do irt visiting stan in the show-- but they're only permitted to come along on heavily-supervised interdimensional excursions once they turn 12. cue antics!

anyway, hopefully this extremely longwinded and loosely structured mess helped answer your question. I like ABW sooo so so much you guys

[uno-san]

Hiii! Could I rq reader who was Fords gf/so before he left and when he comes back he’s happy bc he realizes reader stayed in Gravity Falls the whole time and maybe even helped Stan fix the portal!

But then Bill comes and it’s totally up to u whether to make Bill like super jealous of reader or become just as obsessed with reader as he is with Ford idk.

Thank u!

Hello! Thanks so much for sending in a request. This is the first thing I've written in FOREVER, so I miiiiight have gotten carried away. Hope you and everybody else enjoys!

It always reminded you of the night sky. 

That, or what lied far beyond it. Beyond you, maybe. But never Stanford Pines. Who, in this very moment stood several yards from where you yourself were. The both of you had that strange, not-quite night sky wrapped around your forms. Yet instead of the endless expanse that space was known for, various journals, textbooks, and equations littered that space around you.

It would have been a marvelous sight if you didn’t know the purpose behind this all-too tailored world for Stanford. A trap meant to make him feel seen and applauded in ways you couldn’t quite match. A place for them to meet.

Beside Stanford was another figure. A three-sided one to be exact who had taken place near his shoulder, where he had been far longer than you could have ever known. But here he didn’t need to whisper his lies. Here, the two of them could simply converse and enjoy each other’s company. A wonderful plan to make Stanford feel known while also shutting you out from the light altogether.

Their laughter was uproarious.

“AHAHAHAHA! COME ON, SIXER, YOU DON’T MEAN THAT!”

A shrill voice cut through your observations. The devilish figure that it belonged to had placed his hands over his chest, or stomach, as if he were trying and failing to hold in his joy. His one eye was closed and curved to show a smile that his body didn’t have the means to actually do. His tie meanwhile spun in circles as if a toy had been wound up.

‘Sixer’ had his eyes lowered to the platform of which he stood. Tucked under his arm was one of his prized journals, where each of his six fingers drummed against its spine. He looked bashful under interrogation.

“What, not quite the term your ego would prefer, Bill?” Stanford finally shot back, his gaze raising to meet Bill’s while his eyebrow raised to pose a challenge.

“NOT AT ALL!” 

The demon began to circle around Stanford, who’s whole body began to turn with a determination not to break eye contact again. As if he were afraid of losing sight of Bill. Or his attention. Seeing it reminded you of a puppy enamored with its owner. Its everything, really. You had been familiar with it at some point yourself. What felt like ages ago now.

“JUST SURPRISED, IS ALL. I MEAN, AAAAAAAAALL I’VE DONE IS EXPAND YOUR MIND TO THE UNIVERSE OUTSIDE YOUR PUNY WORLD, SHOW YOU NEW COLORS, AND GIVE YOU THE PERFECT COMEBACKS EVERY TIME YOU GET INTO AN ARGUMENT,” He humbly bragged, “BUT IS THAT ALL REALLY WORTH IT TO BE CALLED YOUR-”

MUSE.

Muse.

Muse.

Muse. Muse. Muse. Muse. Muse. Muse. Muse. Muse. Muse. Muse.

That damn word was going to be imprinted on your brain with how often it was quite literally repeating. Out Loud. High-pitched and nearly shattering your ear drums, a physical manifestation of the word appeared in the space to hurl itself in your direction; A move you’ve seen one too many times. You nimbly dodged off to the side without losing your footing like you had the first time this occurred. With both your feet planted firmly on the ground you whipped your head around to catch the end of the show.

The scene had frozen. Stanford’s expression was stuck in a form of denial, his cheeks tinted a rosy color that you used to make them turn. His brow was furrowed as if he were concerned. Or desperate to assure Bill that he truly was worth it all. Bill meanwhile had his arms folded behind his back while his half-lidded eye bore down on its prey like a benevolent mentor.

Bill’s pupil slowly slid in your direction.

“A BENEVOLENT MUSE, YOU MEAN.”

Bill Cipher became animated again. This time he no longer addressed the version of Stanford standing before him. His smug attention was all focused on you now. His small frame managed to tower over you in mere presence alone, even at the distance you two stood at.

Arms folded behind his back, there was a silence that followed while Bill inspected you. Perhaps waiting for you to give a response before he settled on his own. He feigned surprise.

“DIDN’T EXPECT TO CATCH YOU HERE. SIXER AND I WERE JUST HAVING A MOMENT ALONE,” Bill emphasized, his arm outstretching far past its supposed physical limit to wrap itself around Stanford’s still frame, “YOU KNOW, LIKE WE’VE BEEN HAVING FOR A WHILE. BEHIND YOUR BACK. IN FACT HE WAS JUST ABOUT TO GET TO COMPLIMENTING ME. SINCE I’M HIS MUSE. HIS SKY. STARS. WHATEVER.”

Muse.

Another manifestation hurled its way in your direction. You weren’t nearly as prepared and the edges of the word were sharp, slicing into your arm to draw what you assumed to be blood. With a wince you had to steady your balance before your glare shot back to the bastard in front of you.

He was a menace who you hadn’t realized you had been in competition with for years. And now, in a pissing contest with as the man you’re both fighting over like teenagers was lost in worlds unknown. The man you had loved and had been prepared to marry was gone now. Leaving you with his unfaithful ‘Muse’.

Oh, how you’ve come to hate the word.

It happened first when you had learned of the existence of an other-worldly being that had been secretly leading Stanford’s ambitions. Second was when you had discovered Ford’s hidden collection of idols and paintings. All squirreled away in a private chamber of his own viewing pleasure. That had been manageable.

But the fondness in his gaze when discussing their meetings made your heart ache. How he’d talk as if Bill Cipher was the sole purpose of everything now. His reason for continuing his research or facing adversity for his talents. Or the way he’d pause in the middle of a task to instead laugh at a memory of Bill from earlier, with his hands looking to busy themselves as a distraction.

All of that had hurt. But what made you hate the word most of all was its constant use to torture you. That the moment Bill had sensed your distaste for the term he had done nothing but plague your mind with it. Shoving it in your face as if he was a secret side woman in some stately affair.

Thus far this has been your nightly routine for several months now. Ever since Stanford Pines went missing from this world and so many others. With his brother, Stanley, being left behind with you to pick up the pieces to get back your lost loved one. And for some reason or other, Bill had set his sights on tormenting you.

Every night. Different visions of their bonded moments played in your mind while Bill sneered and poked fun at you for being fool enough to never notice the signs of your man slipping away. You never knew if what he showed you was true. You hoped not.

“THEY���RE REAL.”

You ignore him a moment to get back on two feet. Standing tall before him.

“Do you plan on taking me through your ‘Greatest Hits’ every night or are you going to fuck off already?” The venom in your tone caused interest to gleam in his eye. Most nights you try not to dignify his taunts with a response. But you were tired. Both mentally and physically thanks to late nights with Stanley to try to get the portal running again, or your lonely crying sessions blaming yourself for letting this go on for so long. You were exhausted.

“AW, DIDN’T THINK YOU’D GET SO CRANKY OVER A LITTLE FUN FORDSY AND I WERE HAVING! I’M SURE IT’S EASY TO GET INSECURE OVER THE IDEA OF YOUR MAN GETTING THE CHANCE TO VISIT A SUPERIOR BEING EVERY NIGHT BUT HE MENTIONED YOU ONCE OR TWICE. Y’KNOW, ABOUT HOW YOU’RE ‘SAFE’ AND ‘STABLE’.”

You knew he was just trying to get a rise out of you. Perhaps even deter you from working on that portal any further, ensuring that Stanford would remain lost to mystery forevermore. “Say what you want Bill but I know him better than what your mind creeping could ever do. You miscalculated by seeing only the parts that benefited you and that’s going to end up biting you in the ass. Because it doesn’t matter what you and Stanford had before. Whatever was there is GONE, and I know that Stanford will be coming to end you too.”

It was difficult to keep your voice steady to feign the confidence that you hadn’t had in a long time. You stood bravely in the face of Bill, who’s form only grew in size while you charged up your own argument. He was nearly towering over you now while his gaze remained steady on you. His expression was unreadable.

“WELL WELL WELL, I-”

He’s yapped for far too long.

“Maybe that’s the point to all of this,” You gestured to the spectacle put on pause, “You realize you fucked up. Pushed too hard. Or maybe you’re not even playing this for me. You’re just trying to convince yourself that Ford is still in the palm of your hand when in reality, he despises you. Wants you dead. That despite all the compliments and praises you keep showing me he still picked me over you.”

You weren’t sure if any of this was going to strike a chord. Especially with being in the dark as long as you had, there was nothing for you to fight with. The best you could do was treat him like the vindictive affair partner he was pretending to be. And it worked. Or it was the hint of a suggestion you made in saying you were chosen over him.

Bill’s form skyrocketed in size from its already heightened form, with the triangle now bending over you now to force you to nearly tilt your head all the way back just to make eye contact. His pupil was entirely black to reflect your new surroundings as the static image of Ford and their place of contact was suddenly whisked away. What used to be a bright yellow turned to blood-red bricks that you swore you could feel heat coming off of.

“STANFORD PINES FEARS ME,” Bill’s voice boomed, “AND THAT’S EXACTLY WHERE I WANT HIM. THINKING OF ME AND CHASING AFTER MY COATTAILS UNTIL THAT NERD COMES TO REASON. AND UNTIL THEN YOU-”

His fingers snapped. The ground beneath you disappeared and you felt weightlessness hit as you began to descend into a dark pit. “YOU WILL NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN!”

The vision of the gigantic demon began to fade away. His voice still boomed and echoed despite the void that they were shouted into. As your conscience begins to fade into its own form of nothing you close your eyes to instead repeat his words to yourself.

Never see him again.

__

The Mystery Shack above you groaned with disapproval. Its wood and structure creaked as it finally settled back on the ground, thankfully still supported by its own weight once gravity returned to normal. You were face first on the ground with your head still spinning from that hasty landing you made to resist any damage. With just one peek of an eye you could see that your vision was still hazy. Only a sickeningly familiar blue light kept the basement of the Shack from being in total darkness.

Darkened figures up ahead began to move. When you tried to join them you were quick to discover that your leg caught in debris. A quick examination told you that it wasn’t anything dangerous like active machinery, and the small tugs you gave to test your aching body showed that nothing was quite broken. Hurt, yes, but all intact.

Just like the house you could feel your bones settling back into place while creaking with resentment. You could only imagine how Stanley must have been feeling. Propping yourself up with one arm you then used your freehand to begin pulling away at the rubble on top of you, trying to carefully dismantle it piece by piece so that it wouldn’t collapse on top of you.

Having been so focused on your escape you had only caught the tail-end of what Stanley was telling dipper.

“The author of the Journals…”

Your head whipped around so fast it could have snapped, “My brother.”

As if on cue a figure cladded in a black cloak removed his mask with a six fingered hand, his silver hair whipping around him as he slowly revealed a face you thought you could have anticipated after having aged years with Stanley. The fact that they were twins did little to stop you from tearing up at the handsome visage that was your Stanford Pines.

The wrinkles in his face had deepened from the last you saw him. He was still chiseled with a hint of facial hair he might have shaved off recently while his posture and expression gave off a confidence you weren’t familiar with.

Stanley began to approach him with open arms, prepared to greet the brother he’s missed for years for longer than yours. Stanford didn’t match his sentiments. Instead his fist drew back to strike Stan who had flinched out of the way- But not before Stanford’s fist froze. Left hanging in the air as something else caught his attention. Past Stanley and Dipper. Through various piles of cement and broken wood.

You.

Neither of you moved. His eyes flickered back and forth in a manner that suggested he was examining you all the same. Taking in every detail of your graying form, of each new wrinkle that has marked your age like a tree. The intensity of his gaze made your heart stall for more reasons you could count.

Was that disappointment in his gaze? Or worse, indifference? The world had already been cruel in tearing you apart in the first place. How easy would it be to have Stanford simply forget you? To have moved on to grander and exciting things since his time away. After all, Bill Cipher had enticed him once before. YOU nearly lost him once before. Who’s to say you haven’t wasted your years chasing after a man who could no longer remember your face?

Tears began to gather. They soothed the sting of debris in the air to instead replace it with a dull ache in your heart. At this point you could have been crying over any number of things. You tried calling out his name but the words caught in your throat.

He shouted yours instead. Pushing passed his stunned brother and great nephew to run in your direction. Just as Stanford was a few feet away he suddenly dropped to his knees to slide the remaining distance. It was a physical endeavor you envied in this moment.

Already Stanford’s arms wrapped around your form, drawing you in close to his chest while he buried his face into your hair. You didn’t dare utter a sound of discomfort. Swallowing your tears you chose to focus on his warmth rather than the pain your body was in. How much studier his arms felt from the last time you were held in them, however long ago that was.

“M…My dear…” Stanford gasped, as if the term of endearment hadn’t been uttered in history before. His six fingers nearly dug into your body with his tight grasp. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “This…This is real. Bill isn’t lying again. You’re here. You.”

From the corner of your vision you could see both Soos and Mabel staring in wonder. Their mouths were left hanging open while they slowly turned to each other to clasp hands together. Mabel began to mouth ‘they have a histooooory!!’

You opted to turn your face into Stanford’s chest to ignore all that as long as you could.

“All these years I’ve waited here for you, Stanford. Every year was spent fixing the portal, I-” Your eyes wandered to his twin, “-We’ve been fixing the portal. Stan and I together decided we weren’t going to stop until you were home safe.”

Stanford drew in a breath. The tension that coiled his posture was a familiar sign of his frustrations being withheld, and with the copious warnings in his Journals to not open the portal again you had a fairly safe guess as to what that tension was. Stanford managed to swallow it down as his hand cupped your cheek and directed your eyes to his.

The years have really gone by. For the both of you, you realized as you gazed into weary and worldly eyes. Did he see the same thing in you? Or has it occurred to him just how truly long it's been since the two of you were close like this. Since way before he was lost in the first place. To where Bill’s schemes began to put the first cracks in the foundations of your relationship.

From the distance the portal still glowed a blue hue, flickering every few moments as the machine began to lose its life at long last for what you pray is the last time. Both of you were left illuminated with blue. The beautiful sight of Stanford had been imprinted on your mind, nearly washing away the years of trauma the color had come to be associated with.

You could have sworn Stanford’s eyes were brimming with tears as well before they closed, the distance between you two gone as he leaned down to capture your quivering lips in a kiss. With it came the relief of a thirty-year grief. Not of a healed relationship but of a path to recovery and trust. You nearly grinned into the kiss. Stanford Pines chose you.

[xveenusx]

Wanted

Paring(s): JJ maybank x fem!reader

Summary: in a world where someone had everything, she still got treated like she was nothing. all she wanted was to be wanted.

Authors note: I wanted this piece piece to be as real as possible. It's not simple, its messy. We've all gone back to that one person we know we shouldn't just because being alone seemed worse. Also she gets absolutely railed so that helps. So please be kind to her lmfao.

Rating: smut, 18+, mdni, ANGST

Song rec: making the bed by olivia rodrigo

Part 1: Guilty

Bored. 

I was so incredibly bored. I leaned against the built in bar as I watched Topper and Kelce take body shots off some tourists they invited. The loud bass of the music did little to tune out the annoying voice of Amy Culpo, who stood next to me, and rattled on about my mother’s latest line. 

“I mean, it’s absolutely stunning.” I know it is. I was there when she designed it. “Any chance you have tickets to her next show?”

Ah, there it was. The brutal truth he reminded me of all those months ago. Every interaction was a strategic move to climbing the next prong on the social ladder. Everyone always wanted something. 

I used to fight that notion. I thought I was better than them because I actually cared about other people. My wealth did not define me nor how I treated other people, but despite every effort I made both before and after him, I realized none of it mattered. 

I couldn’t escape my wealth. It was permanently engraved into my body and no matter how hard I tried to scrub, it wouldn’t go away. I’ve now fully embraced that ugly truth and decided that I might as well use it to my advantage. I almost always had something that others wanted and I just had to figure out what they were willing to give. I didn’t need any more money, but there were things that were far more valuable. Favors, tickets to the hottest openings, plane rides. Since everyone already saw me as a spoiled little rich girl, I might as well play the part. 

‘Depends. Are those last season MIU MIU?” I asked, tossing a look at the shoes on her feet. 

“There from the season before-“ I pulled a face at her words. Before last season? I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing anything last season let alone the season before. 

“Oh honey, if those are two seasons old, then I highly doubt you have anything I want.” The shocked look on her face dulled the aching pain that seemed to permanently reside in my chest. 

“I can charter a plane-“

I raised my hand to silence her. “You don’t have your own?” 

What was she even doing here? 

This was a new little project of mine. I tossed away all those societal niceties that did little for me in the end. I still couldn’t get anyone to stay. This was much more fun. You’d be surprised by how much stuff you could get away with if you cut out all the bullshit.

Amy’s cheeks flushed red and maybe once I’d have felt bad or be disgusted by how I was treating her but I was numb. I realized nothing really mattered. Whether I was nice or rude, people all wanted the same things from me. At least this way, I could armor myself. 

“There’s my pretty girl.” Warm hands curled around my waist, tugging me against a hard body. 

I rolled my eyes. I wasn't his anything, Rafe knew that but he’s always had a flare for the dramatics. Tom Ford’s Noir de Noir filled my nose as I swatted at his hands, hands that I’ve grown quite familiar with. 

“You left me.” I shot him a bratty look, one he met head on with a smile. Amy still stood there awkwardly, clearing her throat in an obvious attempt to gain my attention. 

I turned around in Rafe’s arms, debating my next move. Almost immediately his chin came to rest on the top of my head while his arms curled around my front.

My eyes shot one last distasteful look at her outfit, before tossing out my arm in the opposite direction. “Shoo.”

She huffed before stomping away but not before shooting me one final glare. A look that would have made me cry before, but now it simply dinged off the impenetrable armor I’ve suited myself with. 

“I was hoping it’d build character, but clearly that didn’t work.” I could hear the smile in his words as he pressed a kiss on the top of my head. 

“The entire conversation was dull. She didn’t even have a jet, plus her shoes were two seasons ago.” I shuddered in disgust. Could never be me.

Rafe clutched his chest in mock disgust,”Not two seasons.” 

I let out a huff, my chest going warm at the teasing glint in his eye.

There was no spark. There were no butterflies. Just familiarity and warmth. It was safe. We both knew what this was and expected nothing more. For now, we were just having fun. Despite the fact that I spent most nights at his place and rarely found myself without him.

I’ve found somewhat of a friend in Rafe. Someone to share the burden of being from a family like ours. He understood me. He enjoyed shiny things just as I did. 

We spent a lot of our time going to the mainland because the idea of running into him still sent me to my knees. This was a small island. One that he was spending all his time running around with her instead of me. Rafe never said a word about it, never mentioned his sister or her pogue friends. And for that, maybe I do love him a little.

“You make fun of me now, but you’d still be wearing polo shirts and plaid shorts if it weren’t for me.” My hands smooth down the front of his linen light blue shirt, the first several buttons open paired with some black Gucci slacks and a black belt from Dolce & Gabbana. He no longer looked like a frat douche but a member of upper class society. 

The same can’t be said about his friends.

“C’mon. Top and Kelce want us over there.” Rafe grasped my hand and tugged me in the direction of drunken yells. I pursed my lips but trudged behind him. The idea of being thrown up on was less than appealing, but being by myself was even less appealing.

“Hey guys.” Rafe nodded at them, taking a seat on the adjacent couch, a table with all sorts of drugs littered on it in between them. 

The pair of them were obliterated, both their pupils blown wide and their speech slurred. That didn’t stop them from tossing me a sloppy grin and shouting a greeting. 

The spot next to Rafe was vacant but on the other end was a couple gnawing each other's faces off that had me scrunching my nose up in disgust. He surely didn’t expect me to sit next to that?

He didn’t even bat an eye, instead Rafe patted his lap, tugging at my hand to sit down. “Wanna drink, baby?” 

I nodded, deciding to once again indulge. It was better than feeling that stabbing pain that burned in my chest. It was a horrible solution but one that Rafe always supported, in fact he often took part in self-destructing with me. We were done with trying to be perfect for parents who couldn’t give less of a fuck. 

A red solo cup with a familiar yellow concoction was waved in front of me. The pungent scent of tequila burned my nose and I shot him a secret smile. Rafe’s blue eyes narrowed in on me, glued on my smile before he shook his head in amusement. 

“That’s the kinda night we’re going for?” He asked, his hand slowly gripping my thigh. 

“Unless you don’t want to?” I sighed dramatically, pushing his dark blonde strands back from his face, something I knew he loved. 

“If I ever say no to that question, feel free to shoot me.” 

A giggle escaped my lips as I tapped my cup against his before bringing it to my lips, tilting my head back and zeroing it out. 

The tequila left a burning trail down my stomach that I welcomed. It meant I was one step closer to not feeling anything at all. 

“Another?” Rafe’s eyes pointed at my now empty cup and I nodded. 

Being responsible was so overrated. 

Lifting his hand up, almost immediately two younger boys, about 16, appear. Rafe pointed at me, muttering something before the pair nodded and took off.

I raised my eyebrow at him, confused. 

He just shrugged, leaning forward to touch the golden pendant that hung from my neck. “I promised them tickets to the Charleston basketball game if they did whatever I said.”

“Why?” 

“I was bored,” He hummed in response,”This is new, it’s pretty..” 

I smiled back at him, the very picture of nonchalance, before replying,”Thank you. You bought it for me.” 

His ocean eyes rested on me, the infatuation clear as day that had my stomach clenching. “Course I did. I have great taste.” 

Rafe gave me his card about two months ago, not that I needed it, but he enjoyed taking care of me and I didnt mind. Plus, whenever he made me mad, I made sure to run the bill up, hoping for some type of reaction but it only left him amused. 

Nerves gnawed at my stomach at the intense eye contact. Maybe the lines have blurred slightly. Clearing my throat to try and break the tension, I tossed my hair over my shoulder. “Want to see what else you bought me?”

“Enlighten me.” 

I flashed him my freshly manicured nails, “What do you think?” 

Rafe caught my hand, a half smile painted on his face, and kissed it. “Is that passion pink?” 

“It’s actually bubblegum blush.” 

“Beautiful, baby. I love it.” His words burned into my chest. 

It was hard to describe. His approval had butterflies thrumming in my stomach. Maybe it was because we were stuck in similar situations, but his approval suddenly meant something to me. Being with him meant I wasn’t alone. 

“You know we’re right here, right?” Topper's voice cut through the tension and I let out a laugh, relieved to look away. 

“Fuck off.” Rafe laughed, regaining his composure as well. 

Topper leaned forward holding out a black AMEX for me to take. My eyes paused on the card before shooting him a flat look. 

“Are you kidding?” 

Topper gave me a blank look, not a thought behind those eyes. 

I rolled my eyes and stuck my nose up in mock outrage. “Rafe does it for me.” 

The annoyed look on Topper’s face sent a thrill through my body. He was the easiest to rile up and Rafe knew it as he hid his chuckle with a quick cough. 

The hand on my bare thigh slowly drew circles, the action almost unconscious, which had my brain blanking. It was a relief to not think. To not remember. To not feel. 

“Are your hands broken?” 

“No. I’m too pretty.” I shrugged, batting my lashes at him.

Topper openly scowled at me, his eyes dropping to where Rafe’s hands held me tightly. “What happened to the nice little girl who cried about everything?”

“Lay off.” Rafe snipped, leaning forward and snatching the AMEX out of his hand. His movements were quick and precise, with ease that only came with experience. 

He separated the coke into three lines, one for me and two for him, just like always. 

Bending over, I snorted the line quickly. Turning to hand Rafe the hundred dollar bill, his fingers dust off any remaining powder off my nose, before he bent over and did the same.

I leaned back into Rafe, the mixture of the tequila and the sting of the coke had me feeling sublime. It was a perfect balance. The alcohol got me warm and buzzed while the coke kept me awake and alert, an upper and a downer, a perfect description for every emotion in my body. 

“I grew up.” 

Topper hummed. “You certainly did.”

For the next hour, my mind never drifted to him. I enjoyed having thoughts that were my own, that didn’t revolve around him. Instead, my thoughts focused on the man below me. Rafe was always touching me. Even more so than usual, his hand never left my body once. If I let go of his hand to reach for my drink, he’s just moved it to my thigh. It was almost possessive which was odd, we didn’t do possessive. 

Every couple moments, he’d pause in the middle of a conversation to press small kisses anywhere his lips could reach. It seemed performative, but I just couldn’t prove it.

“You’re thinking too hard.” His hot breath hot against the shell of my ear. 

I said nothing for a moment before licking my lips and muttering,”Are you okay? You seem more clingy than usual?” 

He just nodded, pulling me to his hard chest, his eyes darting to the side. “I just like having you with me.”

The sentiment was sweet and my heart tugged at his words. But, I couldn’t let go of the feeling that I was missing something. “I like having you with me too.” I allowed myself to give him a sliver of vulnerability, something I’ve avoided like plague, because it was true. He made living just a bit easier.

My head began to spin as I felt the lines of our odd friendship begin to blur. I knew neither of us would admit the sudden shift but it was there. I could tell with each lingering gaze and those secret touches. Maybe there was something here. I just had to give in.

“I’m glad you came to your senses,” He responded, but once again his eyes are not on mine but darting around me. 

“What does that have to do with anything?” My voice comes out hushed, hoping it would get him to lower his voice. 

My smile from his previous confession dimmed. Nerves slowly began to surface as I tried to read between the lines.

“You do belong with me, at least that's what you scream every night, isn’t that right baby?” He was boasting, loud enough to have his boys give him lame-ass high fives. 

The small burst of happiness curdled like old milk in my stomach. I wasn’t a prude, not by a long shot, but I was a private person. Rafe knew this and he was still flaunting our private moments in a way that made me feel dirty. 

“Stop talking about me like that.” I said, “What’s gotten into you?” 

I felt Rafe go rigid under me. Frowning, I tilted my head back to make sure he was alright but his eyes were glued ahead. 

“Rafe, I’m here for my stuff. Where did you say you put it again?” 

My head turned and my stomach did a backflip. Sarah stood at the entrance of the room, looking immensely uncomfortable. 

John B stood behind her, his big brown puppy-like eyes widened at the sight of me on Rafe’s lap. Or maybe it was because of  the coke laid out in front of me? 

But wherever he was, JJ wasn’t far behind. John B whispered something in Sarah’s ear, her eyes jumped to me for a split second before returning to his. She nodded and John B made a beeline for the other room. 

I let out a choked laugh. I’m sure he was going to report back to his little lap dog. What were they even doing here in the first place? It’s not like Rafe knew-

My brain clicked into place. The constant need to touch me and the over the top PDA was because he was here. Rafe knew he was here and wanted to rub it in his face. 

Rafe’s words were never for me. They were for him.

None of this was real. Not the endearing names, not the proclamations of affection. An ice bucket of realization poured over me and I felt like a fool. A fool for thinking that somebody else could want me, could maybe even love me.

Fuck this. Fuck both of them. 

“You knew.” I accused, shoving his hands off of my body. 

Rafe said nothing, but the flicker in his eyes gave him away. I wasn’t safe with him either. Embarrassment oozed into me, the feeling painstakingly familiar. We agreed to never make each other feel this way since our parents did it enough, but he did it to me. 

Don’t think. Don’t feel. 

Snatching the cup out of his hand, I forced it down, gulp by gulp, wincing at the burn. Straight tequila. “Babe-“

“Shut up.” I hissed, moving off his lap and shoving Topper to move over. Everyone always wanted something from me. 

They never just wanted me.

Maybe I was defective. I had to be. 

JJ didn’t love me when I was me. When I cared about other people and sacrificed pieces of my happiness for them.

Rafe didn’t love me now. When I was a spoiled brat who treated everyone like a transaction. 

It didn’t matter if I was nice or a total raging bitch. Either way, I couldn't get anyone to love me.

I was just the stepping stone they used before they found the person they really wanted to be with. I was just there to make them feel good about themselves. For them to take and take just to toss me aside when they were done. Leaving me a shell of a person with no one, not even myself.

I guess, I was impossible to love.

“Line it up, Topper.”

“Can I at least get a please?”

“Be lucky that I’m even talking to you.”

Topper scoffed but did what I asked, lining up two lines of chalky white powder. “There you go, princess:” 

A rolled hundred dollar bill was held out in front of me. Plucking it out of his fingers. I bent over the table. Don’t think. Don’t feel. 

Dragging the cylinder bill down the crystal snow powder I’ve grown to love, I inhaled deeply. The chemicals flowing through the nose. I could practically feel the coke dissolving into my bloodstream, my body vibrating in response. 

Dropping the bill on the table, I tilt my head back, begging my brain to shut off. I closed my eyes and chose to focus on the beat of the music that had my heart thrumming in my chest.

Then it happened.

All the air in the room was sucked up. The hair behind my neck stood up and my body suddenly awakened in a way it hadn’t in months. 

My body recognized him before my brain did. The moment I opened my eyes, his eyes clashed with mine.

JJ.

It was like seeing him for the first time, a memory I thought I would never get the chance to feel again. 

Heavy set blonde brows framed his bright blue eyes beautifully, the strong cut jaw that was currently clenched, and his lips soft and pouty, tightly pressed in a flat line. This face, his beautiful face, wouldn’t be complete without some mark. A bruise, a soft purple and yellow hue, decorated his cheek bone. His bottom lip busted. 

He was so beautiful. 

My body reacted before my brain could follow. I stood up quickly, too quickly that the blood rushed to my head and the room seemed to spin. 

God, he was beautiful. And I fucking hated him for it. He was supposed to be like me, a complete and total mess, but instead, he looked the same, even better actually. 

That thought alone had me ready to jump off the balcony.

My movements were clumsy and I drunkenly stumbled while standing still, his eyes clocking that in seconds. 

Despite the loud music, I noticed the silence coming from the couch. 

My eyes jumped to Rafe. All the laughter around us died off and everyone was exchanging nervous looks. It didn’t take a genius to read the room and the situation I’ve somehow managed to put myself in. 

Blue eyes flickered between the two of us. It cracked my chest open wide and opened the floodgates I’ve been trying so hard to keep closed. 

The crushing inescapable weight of shame hit me first. I was plastered, obviously so, and high as a kite. The evidence of what I’d been doing displayed out in front of me like a flashing sign. And I was fucking the one guy he hated. 

It was unreasonable, I know. He left me and even pushed me in the direction of the one guy he hated and yet, I was the one feeling bad. He hasn’t even opened his mouth yet and it’s been turned onto me. But love never makes sense. It made the most sane people lose every coherent thought, I was the prime example.

“You should probably go, bro.” Rafe said, his tone was anything but. 

He moved from his spot on the couch and stopped beside me. Rafe shoved a hand in one pocket while the other reached for mine, but I folded my arms across my chest. Mostly because I was mad at him, but a part of me didn’t want JJ seeing that. 

JJ didn’t spare him a second glance.

He had on a dark blue short sleeve button down shirt with black cargos and chunky black boots on his feet. A backwards red hat settled nicely on the blonde mass of wavy hair and his shark necklace hanging against the exposed part of his chest. 

It was so JJ. All of it, right down to the colorful bracelets that littered his wrists. 

A hand grasped my chin and tilted up. I held my breath. His fingers slid along my jaw and he rubbed his thumb over the skin. His eyes felt like lasers, honing in on every detail of my face. 

I swallowed audibly. JJ leaned in closer, bringing his height down to mine. His thumb brushed a soft stroke below my nose while his lips brushed against my ear. 

“You had a little something on your nose.” 

JJ let go of my face, his expression hard. Then he brushed past me, leaving a gaping wound in his wake. 

Tears burned behind my closed eyes. He didn’t need to say it because I already knew what he was thinking. Sure, JJ smoked some weed but he never touched any of the hard stuff, not wanting to pick up the same habits as his dad. Hard drugs were a hard limit for him and he found me snorting several lines of it. 

I went and became the very thing he hated, just like he wanted. It didn’t feel as satisfying as I thought it would. Instead, I felt like I lost another piece of myself. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I said to Rafe, finally gathering the courage to open my eyes. 

He shuffled beside me. “Him being here wasn’t going to change anything.”

We both knew that was a lie.

“It’s him, Rafe. It changes everything for me.” 

Rafe scoffed and shook his head. “You’re really going to try and go back to that?”

“I’m not saying that-” I spluttered out, outraged as his voice continued to carry across the room. 

“He didn’t want you.” 

People around us began to whisper, their heads huddled together with their phones out. Wet hot tears threatened to fall as the control I took months to master began to unravel. 

“Yeah, well you don’t either.” 

“What the hell are you talking about? Before he got here, everything was perfect.”

“I’m not stupid. You think I didn’t notice what you were doing? That wasn’t for us, that was for him.”

“I didn't mean for you to think I was using you-“

I gripped his chin, and pulled his face down to my height, my eyes brimming with angry tears. “You don’t use me. I use you.” I shoved his face back, needing to collect my composure. 

Everyone’s eyes were on us and I was desperate to save face. It was the only thing I had left. 

“Get the fucking picture?”

“Crystal clear.” He responded through gritted teeth, his eyes hard. 

“If you want a whore, go buy one.” 

Rafe cleared his throat, his face iced over. “I thought that’s what I was already doing.”

I stood there for a moment, not understanding what I did to deserve to be treated like this by not one man but two. I felt like an idiot. Like the stupidest fucking person on this god forsaken planet. 

Two hours ago, I thought that maybe Rafe had feelings for me and played with the idea of exploring that with him. And now, I was a gold digging whore. 

I felt another piece of my heart break off, mourning the loss of the only friendship I really had.

Pressing my hair down with my hands, I look down to fix my dress, swallowing as I went, hoping to pull myself together and buy some time. 

“I’m glad to hear how little you think of me.” I sent him a sad smile,” I guess I’m keeping up with everyone’s expectations.” 

I stepped around him, heading to the direction of the bar, the adrenaline from all the excitement having effectively killed my buzz. 

Staring at the bottles of liquor on the counter had me frowning, all being some bottom shelf brand I’ve never heard of. I moved around the bar to the cabinets behind it, looking for the good tequila. It was the least Rafe could do seeing as though he just blew up whatever the fuck we were doing. 

Spotting the only tequila I drank, I grabbed the entire handle. Twisting the top off, I tossed it aside carelessly before taking a healthy swig. Then another. And another. 

I stumbled into another room, shoving people out of my way. I ignored the angry shouts because I was way past the point of caring. I just-I just wanted to see him.

As if someone heard my thoughts, I spotted JJ leaning against a wall with a lit joint dangled between his fingers and a beer in the other. 

He had so much charisma, it demanded the attention of the room. People gravitated towards him all the time but he refused to see himself that way. 

Even now, he stood surrounded by several people, including a girl who was too close for my liking, and they were hanging onto every word. All of their bodies angled towards him, nodding along. The people around them curiously moving in to hear more of the story that had so many of them laughing. 

It was almost ironic. It was the point I was trying to prove all those months ago. Kooks vs. Pouges was bullshit. Because, right now JJ is telling a story to a bunch of Kooks who were eating it right up. Neither parties cared about their status, they just wanted to socialize and have fun. 

Why couldn’t he see that? 

The organ in my chest began to flutter, the butterflies erupting in my stomach at his nearness. Panic began to set in. I thought I’d pushed it all down. 

All it took was seeing him. Just once. For the last couple months of progress to be thrown out the window. I made sure to not feel anything anymore, because the alternative destroyed me. And yet, there he stood, looking like every dream I’ve ever had, and completely disarming my very being with one look. 

I never wanted to feel that way again. My heart was open and my soul was bared, but I was naive. I thought love was supposed to be empowering. But really, it was poison. It slowly entered your bloodstream, coating every vein before slowly taking over every organ. It leaked into your brain and made you lose all common sense. The poison tricked you into thinking that certain treatment was okay because at least they were here. At least, they still wanted to be with you because they love you, right? 

But eventually, like all things lacking an antidote, it began to cut off your oxygen. It curled around your lungs and squeezed until you gasped for breath with tears staining your face. It didn’t matter how much you screamed and shouted, nothing came out. The last organ it takes over is your heart. That silly little organ who was so trusting begins to pump faster, desperately trying to get that oxygen to your brain, because maybe then you’ll finally be able to think clearly. But in the end, it slows down. Each pump is slower than the last until finally it comes to a stop. The heart broke. 

It’s the closest thing to dying I’ve ever experienced.

It was like drowning on dry land.

His words did not leave me dented, but destroyed. 

I lost my sense of myself. I lost my identity. I put on a performance every time I left my house, wanting to see just how far I could get away with treating people the same way they treat me. 

At first it didn’t feel good, but now I didn’t feel anything at all. Or so I thought until I saw him again. And I just want to see that he was doing okay and maybe, if I can admit it, to see if he still loved me, however little that may be.

I watched from my spot on the other side of the room as the crowd began to disperse, leaving JJ with some blonde. I vaguely recognized her from a shoot for one of my mom’s brands. I believe her parents worked in the fashion industry as well. Which would have been fine, had she not said something that had him give her one of those rare smiles, the ones he used to give me in private. 

Nausea roiled in my stomach, maybe it was all the tequila or maybe it was seeing him smile at someone else when all I wanted was for him to smile at me. 

She leaned into him, a coy smile played her lips, running her fingers down the shirt I bought him, which basically made it mine. And I hated when people touched my things.

The mix of tequila and coke emboldened me. I found my feet moving in their direction before I could stop myself. 

“I wouldn't waste your time.” I could not get myself to stop talking.

“Why’s that?” The blonde’s eyes narrowed, her cheaply manicured hand resting on JJ’s bicep.

“JJ doesn’t go for kooks or so I’ve been told.” 

“Maybe he just didn’t go for you.” Oh, how cute. 

“Oh honey,” I sighed dramatically and took one step towards her, tilting my head to the side, dragging my eyes up her body, in obvious distaste. “Are you new here?”

“Well, yeah but-“ She tried to explain. 

Clearly, she needed a run through on how the social ladder worked here. I was at the top and everyone else was at the bottom. 

“Your mom works for some brand from Paris right?” I watched as her eyebrows pulled together in confusion. 

“She does. We moved here because she’s doing a collab with-“

“With my mom.” 

“So I suggest you take your hand off of him,” I smiled on cue, my tone dipped in sugar before batting my eyelashes at her innocently,” Unless you want her blacklisted?” 

I could see her debating what to do. She didn’t know if I was bluffing but she'd learn rather quickly just how far I was willing to go. 

“Hmm, cute shoes.” I hummed, “Chanel?” 

She nodded, apprehension on her face. 

“Won’t be able to buy those anymore if your mom doesn’t have a job.” 

Her hand fell and satisfaction settled into my like molten lava. “You can go now.” 

The blonde pursed her lips and stalked off, leaving me alone with JJ. “Trying a new type”

“And what type would that be?”

“Desperate.”

JJ tipped his mouth, saluting me before taking a sip of his drink. His eyes already glazed over from the joint in his hand. 

“A thank you would be nice?” I muttered, taking another pull from my tequila. I couldn’t talk to him sober or I’d lose my nerve.

“A thank you?” He appeared almost amused, adjusting his red hat. 

“Yeah, I just saved you.”

“I didn't realize I needed saving.” 

“Self-preservation was never really your strong suit was it?” 

JJ laughed, his eyes straying to the bottle cradled in my arms. “I could say the same thing, Princess.” 

Fuck him for calling me that. So what, I’ve learned to indulge just a little. It made everything in my life a little more manageable. 

“It’s called having fun, JJ.” Pouting as he snatched the bottle from arms just as I went to take another shot. “Since when did you become the responsible one?”

JJ leveled me with an unamused stare. 

I huffed, blowing a stray strand of hair out of my face. “Tough crowd.”

JJ snorted, pushing the leaves of a nearby plant back before dumping the remaining tequila. My mouth dropped open as he wasted every last drop of my liquid courage. 

How the hell was I going to talk to him now? 

I pursed my lips, “That was mean.”

“I’m doing what your boyfriend should have done an hour ago.” His gaze fixed on my face, the intense stare causing my cheeks to turn red. God, would he stop staring at me?

“He doesn’t tell me what to do.”

“Then he shouldn’t have left you alone.” His tone laced with annoyance, “You have all these fuckers staring at you and you’re wasted.”

I tilted my head back to stare up at him, the annoyance I knew came from a place of panic. That was just how JJ was wired. 

“So you’re in love with me?” Someone come arrest me, because I cannot keep my mouth closed.

JJ shook his head clearly fighting back a smile. “You’re so crazy.” 

“What else could that mean?” I asked truthfully and I knew I had a love struck smile on my face. One that I’ve only given to one man in my life and he stood in front of me.

I just wanted to be near him. I wanted to hear his laugh and see him smile.

His face softened at my words. “Are you okay? Does he take care of you?”

“Of course, I’m okay. Why do you ask?”

“Only one of us is fucking loaded.” 

I rolled my eyes and plucked the joint from his fingers. “Correct me if I’m wrong, and we both know I rarely am, are you not high too?” 

“Not from cocaine.”

“Already back to judging so soon?” I mused, taking a hit off the joint, the familiar stinging sensation wrapped around my lungs and squeezed. “Careful, I might think you care.”

Kill me now. Thank god, he took away the tequila.

“Who said I ever stopped?” My heart lurched in my throat.

I blew the smoke out slowly, my fogged up brain rushing to keep up with his words. 

Someone stumbled in front of me, slamming into my shoulder sending me flying forward into JJ’s arms. Something cold and wet splattered onto me, the bitter liquid dripping down my legs.

“Are you blind?” I shouted, shoving another drunk party goer off me. Looked like a tourist. 

She held her hands up in apology.

“I’m so sorry. Here, let me help.” To my absolute horror, this fucking tourist used a napkin and went to scrub the stain. Are these people animals? This was custom versace.

“Stop!” My cheeks flushed, from the weed or from my constant streak of bad luck. “Clearly, you’ve never owned anything worth keeping but this is Versace, you dick.”

I needed to go home before I burned this entire house down. 

“Is that how you talk to people now?”

I let out a loud groan. “Oh fuck off, JJ.”

I shoved him away from me, before grabbing the skirt of my dress and heading into the nearest bathroom, which just so happened to be Rafe’s. 

In reality, I just needed to get away from him. I needed my hands to be busy so that I couldn't grab his face and kiss him. Because I really wanted to do that. 

The sound of footsteps have my eyes widening in panic as I take in my ruined dress. All because of that blonde asshole next to me, if he hadn’t showed up, I’d still have my tequila and my sanity.

“I wanted to talk.”

I made a noise at the back of my throat. That didn’t sound like JJ at all.

“Fine, whatever. Close the door.” I didn’t need a million other people to see me lose my shit. I was already at my quota for the day. 

Jj stared at me with a confused look. “Close the door.” I nearly shout as the footsteps get closer but he moves just as quickly and slammed it shut, putting the lock in place.

“I just got this piece too.” I grumbled, huffing at the stained skirt. It was the Medusa 95’ Cut Out Mini dress in a stunning pastel pink. And now ruined with a beer stain from that horrible girl outside. 

“I remember this one.” JJ spoke from behind me. Of course he did. He remembered everything I bought. 

He always demanded fashion shows after all my shopping trips. He knew nothing about clothes but he always paid attention to me. He used to sit for hours while I prattled on and on about clothes.

“Unzip me?” 

“I’m sorry?” He choked out, setting his beer down.

“I need to clean it before it stains. Unzip me.” 

In hindsight, I was goading him. I wanted to see what he would do. I could tell he was already on edge since seeing me with Rafe. I wondered what a little push would do.

Neither of us moved for a beat. JJ puffed out a breath from his cheeks before he walked toward me slowly. I remained stock still, watching his every move in the mirror.  “It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before.” 

My heart fluttered at his nearness. Something I wanted since the minute he turned around and left. Home, I wanted my home back.

I jumped up at the feel of his warm breath against the back of my neck, goosebumps rising instantly. The tug of the zipper had me swallowing the lump in my throat. His other finger caressing every inch of skin, the zipper surrendered. 

The sound of the zipper stopped but he never dropped his hand. Instead, I watched as JJ swallowed before lifting his head, those storming blue eyes connecting with mine in the mirror. 

I stood on my Magda Butrym Appliquéd satin sandals and a flimsy pair of tiny panties. 

“I feel like this is a test.” I watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed.

“Is it?” I mused, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. 

“Yeah and I’m failing.” 

The pads of his thumb brushed along my bottom lip, dragging it down slowly. My lips parted as a soft whimper escaped. 

“You’re still so beautiful, it hurts.” He murmured, almost angry with the revelation. 

Blistering hot satisfaction dripped over me. 

JJ’s other hand grazed my bare back, the contact immediately chasing my back to arch. Sparks of sensitivity erupted from my skin as my body trembled with hot desire. 

His hand moved higher, gripping onto my hair before wrapping the long strands around his hand, tugging my head back, demanding my attention. 

He stared at me with heavy lids, eyes like ocean blue blades. My body began to heat up. 

JJ’s eyes dropped back to my lips causing me to the lick them quickly. He backed me up against the Jack and Jill sink, my back resting against the cool granite counter. 

I blinked slowly, making the decision for him, angling my head up and smashing my lips to his. 

A groan ripped from his chest as he met my kiss with the same crippling desperation. His rough hands dropped from my face to my hips, his nails digging crescent shaped marks in the skin. 

My legs began to slightly shake as his tongue finally brushed against mine. Oxygen was something neither of us needed as we fed off each other's energy. 

His tongue licked and twirled around my own, another moan vibrating between us. JJ’s large hand trailed up skin, goosebumps appearing in its wake, before locking around my throat. 

His grip was strong, not enough to cut off my oxygen but enough to garner my attention. He pulled me up to my tippy toes by my neck, my nipples brushing against the rough fabric of his shirt making me gasp at the contact. His mouth clashed with mine once more, his lips wrapped around my tongue, sucking gently before pulling back and biting out a curse. 

My hands were desperate as they began to unbutton his shirt quickly, pushing the fabric off his shoulders. JJ whipped off the shirt just as my hands began reaching for his shorts, my fingers fumbling with the button. 

The laugh he let out was devastating. His smile was purely lethal for my heart. “We got all the time in the world, princess.” 

My stomach clenched at the nickname he gave me all those years ago. But, we didn’t. We both knew this moment would end the minute we came to our senses. 

JJ unbuttoned his pants and dropped them in one smooth movement before pressing his warm body against mine once more.

“Up, baby.” My arms wrapped around his neck immediately, my nose grazing his. JJ gripped my thighs tight as he placed me on top of the counter. 

He rested the palm of his hands on either side of me, enclosing my frame, daring me to move. JJ leaned down, his lips leaving phantom kisses along my collarbone, nipping as he went along. He stopped at the swell of my breasts, both hands encasing my heavy aching breasts before pressing them together. 

He pressed scorching hot, open-mouthed kisses on every inch of exposed skin. His tongue pressing against my swollen nipples before closing around one and giving a strong suck. I was a mess beneath him, my chest heaving with heavy pants. 

He nipped and tugged at the soft flesh of my breasts, leaving small purple love bites scattered on my chest. He pressed a kiss on each one, a pleased hum echoing within the bathroom. 

JJ dropped to his knees slowly, each hand running down my bare legs. I wanted to see him. 

I leaned back on the palm of my hands and arched my back in a teasing invitation. Pulling my legs from his grasp, I propped my feet up on the counter, but kept my knees bent, the tops touching.

The utter obsession that painted his face had me biting down on my lip hard enough to draw blood. “Please, Jayj.”

He stood stock still, similar to a statue. It looked like he almost stopped breathing as I slowly pushed my knees apart. I was drenched, I could feel myself soaking the skimpy fabric of my thong, my thighs glistening with the evidence of my arousal. 

JJ’s eyes went black, locking in on my wet pussy before jumping back up to me. His hands found my thighs and roughly dug into the skin to keep my legs from closing. 

He leaned forward, his index finger hooking the front of my thong before curling the fabric and tugging it up roughly between my lips. “Fuck.” I mewled, watching as he pressed his face between my legs and inhaled deeply. 

I could feel my clit throbbing, needing to be touched. With one more tug, JJ slaps the side of my thigh, having me lift my hips up to take the last piece of fabric off my body. An insatiable grin formed on his face that went straight to my clit.

The first touch onto my lips had my hips shooting off the counter, his touch like electricity. He blew a breath against the aching skin, his hot mouth watering at the sight of me. Two fingers pushed apart my drenched folds, rubbing against the sensitive skin again and again, turning me into a mindless puddle. 

He smirked at my trembling legs. “You okay, baby?”

“Fuck off.” I responded through gritted teeth, trying to gather myself. 

He dipped forward, gathering saliva before slowly spitting it out, the stream of spit pattering against my spread lips. The sound was obscene. 

“That’s not very nice.” 

Tears of frustration began to build up as I discarded my hands into those loose blonde strands, knocking his hat off. “You love it.”

The grin he sent me was feral and I knew this was exactly what I needed. “I sure do, princess.”

He enclosed his mouth against my swollen clit and sucked roughly, a loud shout erupting from the depths of my chest. JJ parted my lips again, forcing his tongue inside and out, again and again, devouring every inch of my pussy. 

My cunt clenched against his tongue making him moan loudly. My body was burning as he swirled his tongue along the bundle of nerves once more. Another cry left me as I tried to find something to grab onto. His tongue lapped up all the fluids that continued to come out and I found myself forgetting how to breathe. 

I pushed his face deeper, grinding against his nose that continuously rubbed against my clit, my fingers tugging at his hair, needing a release. The knot in my lower stomach began to tighten as I whispered his name again and again like a prayer. The sound of my breathy pleas spur him on as he slipped two fingers in my pussy, meeting no resistance. 

The squelching noises had me throwing my head back against the mirror which had begun to fog up. I clenched around his large fingers that rubbed against my sensitive walls wanting him to lose control. 

JJ curled his fingers upward causing my knees to buckle and my mind go blank. I was close and he knew based on the tremors the shook my legs. I could barely hold myself up as everything went fuzzy. 

A choked moan escaped my lips that curled into a ‘o’ as his mouth sucked that rigid spot of flesh while his fingers continued to hammer into me. The invisible band snapped and as a wave of pleasure washed over me. My body finally began to relax as I tried to catch my breath, my chest rising and falling dramatically. 

I spared a glance at him. JJ’s eyes were low, eyes pitch black and glued to my face, and his cheeks flushed red. He looked pussy drunk. 

“Looks like I have to clean you up.” He mumbled against the flesh of my thighs. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as his hot tongue began to catch all the arousal that dripped down my thighs. I was sensitive and tried to move back, but his hands locked around my thighs to keep them open. Shives forced their way up my spine as he lapped all my fluids up, humming as he went along, not leaving one bit of skin untouched. JJ pressed one last kiss before pulling back and licking his lips.

My heart hammered through my chest and vaguely though my haze of pleasure did I hear a murmur.

“Huh?” I felt him smile against my thigh, clearly finding my delirious state funny.

“Barry, man, have you seen her?” Rafe’s voice drifted under the door. 

I froze at the sound of his voice, my eyes darting to JJ who just smirked from his spot between my legs. 

“She’s right here, man.” JJ whispered, straightening up to press a kiss on the crown of my head. I shook my head at him, my eyes wide with a silent plea, but JJ disregarded it. 

 “She’s a little busy at the moment.” 

I shook my head, pressing my palm against his mouth, his next words coming out muffled. He never knew when to shut up. The last thing I needed was Rafe finding us in his bathroom.

I kept my hand on JJ’s mouth until footsteps faded and we were alone once again. 

JJ nipped at the palm of my hands, his tongue slipping out. My face screwed up as I let out a squeal, “Ew, Jayj.” 

“Shouldn’t have tried to shut me up to protect your boyfriend’s feelings.” He said the words lightly, but I could hear the slight edge in his tone. 

Pushing him off my softly, I hopped off the counter with shaky legs. “Since when do you care about Rafe’s feelings?”

I winced as I tried to take a step, my knees nearly knocking together from the aftershock. JJ always left me a shaking disheveled mess afterwards, but I felt lighter, because he was looking at me the way he used to. 

And, I wanted that to last just a bit longer. 

“I don’t care about his feelings-“ He scoffed, before pausing at the teasing smile on my lips. “You’re fucking with me.”

“Too easy.” I let out a shriek of laughter as JJ's arms wrapped around my waist, lifting me up in the air.

That was how I found myself sweaty, pressed against Rafe’s sheets, struggling to breathe. The violent sound of skin slapping echoing in the room, my raspy moans intertwining with his hot pants. 

One of JJ’s hands gripped the back of my head, pinning me to the mattress, the other pushing down on my back, forming a deep arch, to pull his cock in deeper. 

I couldn’t register anything he was muttering as he bottomed out since of me, my mind go blank. My walls spasmed against him with each rut of his hip, sucking him back in every time he pulled back. 

I was soaked, my pussy dripping around him. The sopping wet noises spurring him on, his pace quickening with those deep purposeful strokes. 

I couldn’t focus on anything but him. The smell; the feel of him. The way his cock continued to brush against my cervix made me borderline delicious. 

“Fuck,” JJ shuddered, rolling his hips in and out of my pussy had me clamping around him once more, a tidal wave beginning to build up inside me. 

 I whimper left me, the coil in my stomach pulling tight as I searched for a release. The tip of his cock pressed into me repeatedly, forcing my legs to shake once more. 

My hands searched for something to hold onto as I tried to anchor myself from being drowned in pleasure. “J. J, I-I cant-I’m gonna-“

I felt his pace begin to pick him, his cock twitching inside me as he continued his movements, grinding his hips against the globes of my ass, until there was no space between us. 

It was like he was imprinting himself into my skin. Like he didn’t want me to forget him. 

As if I could ever forget JJ Maybank. 

My whines got louder, his words becoming more and more depraved. His large calloused hands ran all over my body like he was etching it to memory. 

Quick and quiet gasps bled from my parted lips, as he hammered into me from behind, his hands lacing with mine against the sheets. 

The coil in my stomach snapped, white flash blinding my vision, this orgasim more intense than the first. I could feel myself coating his hips and upper thighs, fluids dripping on the sheets. 

I could hear JJ’s voice whine, he began to babble nonsense under his breath, with each languid thrust. 

My heartbeat was in my ears as I pushed my hips back to match his thrusts, wanting him to finish despite all my sensitivity coming to head. His nails dug my hips, my cunt suffocating as he continued to grunt his cock into me. 

“Fuck, Kiara.” His grunt echoed in the room.

Kiara? 

I went numb. I couldn’t breathe-I couldn’t, I needed-

Bile coated my throat as whatever childish hope I had shriveled up in my chest. So I laid there, not knowing what to do, as JJ continued to pump in and out of me, but the soft intimacy we shared before dissipated. 

Why did no one ever pick me? Why didn’t anyone want me? 

I let my body go limp even though everything in me wanted to shove him off, but I just couldn’t get myself to move.

That was all it took for JJ to realize the slip of his tongue. JJ froze behind me as I shoved my face into my arms and choked on a gut wrenching sob. 

“Fuck, I-hold on,” JJ’s panick was audible as he slowly pulled out of me. I cupped my mouth to try and muffle the scream I wanted to let out. 

His blue eyes widened in horror at his mistake but it was too late. The words were already burned into my mind, replaying on a torturous loop.

JJ’s hand reached out for me, but I shrank back, scrambling to the headboard, desperate to put distance between us. 

I curled into myself, pressing my back hard against the headboard, willing for myself to disappear. 

“What did you just call me?” My chin wobbled. I tried to remind myself to breathe but with each inhale, my lungs were saturated with pain. 

“I-That was an accident.” He stuttered, raking his hands through his hair roughly.

“Get out.” 

“It just slipped out, I didn’t mean it.” 

“Get the hell out, JJ.” I yelled, and pointed at the door with a shaky finger. 

Like I said, his words never dented me, no they completely destroyed me. They cut me like a freshly honed razor blade.

And I was going to die of blood loss if I didn’t get him to leave this room. He had no problem leaving me then, why was he fighting it now?

Was he thinking about her the whole time he was inside me? 

Thought after thought haunted me. Was he comparing our bodies? Was he comparing the sex? 

Mortification had my stomach churning as I debated what to do next. My body was wound tight, on the verge of hyperventilating. 

Did he love her? Did he love her like he used to love me? Did he fuck her the way he fucked me?

I hated him. Before him, none of these thoughts would have crossed my mind. I may have been alone but at least I liked who I was. I never would have questioned myself the way I am now. But after him, the only thing I hated more than him was myself.

“Was Kiara not available,” I murmured, “so you came to the one person you knew would say yes?”

JJ didn’t find my joke funny. The air was tense, as if we were trapped in a steamed up bathroom, making each breath harder than the last.

“Kie and I aren’t together.”

“JJ, you know where the door is. Use it.” 

“I don’t want to leave.” He shook his head, his eyes flickering with something heavy. 

“You had no problem doing it before.”

“That was-“ JJ squeezed his eyes shut, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

He shuffled closer to my body, but still wasn't touching me. I nibbled on my bottom lip and wiped the remaining tears from my cheeks hastily. 

“I’m sorry.” He said, clearing his throat. “I am so so sorry.”

I lost my grip completely as those eyes perverted mine. His eyes were so blue, it was easy to get lost in them. 

Words couldn’t find their way out of my mouth. With wary eyes, I watched as he stood up and disappeared in the bathroom before appearing again with his shirt. 

JJ reached for me before pausing, his eyes asking a silent question. I nodded, forcing myself to loosen the grip I had on the sheets. 

I let him put the shirt on me, its protection better than the flimsy sheet. JJ dropped his head on my chest, his tan arms wrapped around my waist, curling himself into me. 

“I’m sorry.” 

I was sorry too. I waited for months for him to be back in my arms, but he ruined every independent thought I had. I couldn’t stop the overthinking. I couldn’t stop the pain.

I was hurting too, but I was the one comforting him. I was always the one comforting him. What about me?

I laid on the soft sheets and stared up at the ceiling. Our heavy breathing echoing in an otherwise silent room. His heavy arm tossed over naked torso, his fingers softly tracing the curve. The whisper of his breath caressing the nape of my neck where his face was buried. The familiar tickle of his golden strands brushing against my nose, his coconut shampoo wafting my senses.

The JJ induced haze began to clear up and the ugliness began to set in. 

A single tear escaped my eye, its trailing burning it’s way down the side of my face. I loved him. Even after he willingly abandoned me. After he humiliated me in front of everyone. After he called me her name.

I couldn’t cut him out. It didn’t matter what he did to me, the minute we’re within the same vicinity, my self preservation disappeared. Then I was left, treading water in the middle of a storm, with nothing but a life jacket. 

I had no one to blame but myself in this situation. I knew how he spoke to me, how easily he left me, how embarrassed he was of me. But he just smiled and it was like everything melted away. 

I so badly wanted to feel again, but not like this.

So all I can do is lay here. In this bed. With a boy who made me hate the kind person that I was. 

I made my bed. I didn’t realize this was how I’d feel when I lied in it. I turned into someone I hated. And suddenly I was bone-tired, exhaustion suffocating my lungs. I had no idea who I was and I was tired of being someone I wasn’t. 

“Where are my clothes?” I said. God, I needed to leave this room before Rafe found me. 

“I wasn’t really focused on that part, babe.” JJ mumbled, burrowing himself deeper into my side. 

My stomach lurched. I thought I’d feel different. I thought that maybe this would fix everything. That in some deluded way, we would get back together and everything else didn’t matter. Like he didn’t leave me standing at the party after stomping on my chest.

“I need them.” I mumbled. I choked down the need to throw up. The feel of our sweat coating my body and his soft breaths against my skin had me almost hyperventilating. 

Home, he used to be home. But, I’ve never felt like more of a stranger than in his arms right now. This was no longer my home. 

Kook pussy. Daddy issues.

I fucked up. Fuck, I fucked up. 

This only made me feel worse. I was good enough to fuck, but not enough to stay. 

“What are you in such a hurry for?” His fingers paused their persistent movement. 

“I have to get back-“

“To who?” JJ snapped. 

I moved to sit up, dragging the sheet with me as I avoided his gaze. “You know who.”

He didn’t need to know that Rafe and I basically ended. I just wanted him to hurt in the same way I did.

He let out a scoff. “You can’t be serious?” 

“Dead serious.” 

“This isn’t like you-“

“You left. You don’t know who I am anymore.” 

“Clearly,” he chuckled under his breath, “But suddenly Rafe does?”

I shrugged. “He’s my friend.”

“I don’t give a fuck who he is-“

I tuned him out. I was too busy trying to get his actual voice out of my head. 

Kiara. Not me. Kiara. Not me. 

It had taken every bit of strength to not chase after him that day. To not call and text, begging for him to give me the time of day. And I know, I know I should be stronger. I know I should have said good riddance and moved on, but love was never simple. 

When I saw him tonight, I thought that maybe it was fate. So all the waiting, all the practice of self control paid off because he came back. But, was this what was waiting for me?

“You slept with me,” I said, “ but you’re thinking about her?”

I didn’t want to know the answer, but I had to ask it. It was just one of a million questions I had since the day he walked away. Was there something I could have done differently?

I was wracking my brain to see where I had gone wrong, but maybe I just fell in love with the wrong person.

“From what I hear, you don’t care about anything these days. Why would you care about this?” I couldn’t detect any emotion in his words, just cold hard facts. 

I really was out here exceeding everyone’s expectations of me. 

But, he had to know that when it came to him, I always cared too much. That’s why his words caused another jagged piece of my heart to puncture my chest.

“Why would I care?” I whispered, shaking my head at him. “Are you listening to yourself?” 

Had I deluded myself so much into thinking we experienced the same love in our relationship? How could he even question that. Everything I did was always for him.

“I care about you, that never changed.”

Something pained flickered through his gaze. “Care about me? Yet your fucking Rafe Cameron.” 

“You’re mad about that?” I choked on a humorless laugh,”Let me jog your memory real quick since apparently you’ve got amnesia, you were the one that told me to be with him.” 

“Well, I didn’t think you’d actually do that to me.”

I threw my arms up in the air, exasperated,”Then why say it at all? Wait, I forgot who I’m talking to. You’re the king of saying shit you don’t mean.” 

“Saying shit and actually doing it are two different things.”

“Well, you did do it Jayj.” My lungs hitched. 

His jaw tightened, tension seeping out of him in waves. 

“You left. You did the one thing you promised you’d never do. You didn’t even look back as you did it.” I shouted, tears blurring my vision as my body continued to shake from adrenaline. “All because what? Rafe hurt your feelings? Because I have more money than you?”

I wanted to understand him. I thought I did once, but the more I thought about our breakup the more I saw it had nothing to do with me. And everything to do with him.

“Do me a favor and grow up. This is the real world. You’d swap places with any one of us in a second if you could.” 

JJ narrowed his eyes. “I don’t want any part of your world. I thought I made that clear.”

“I’m aware. But I was there, remember? For every bonfire, for every boat ride with you and your friends. What was it you guys said again?” It rushed out of me, “to going full kook?”

He watched me stoically, his fingers tugging at his bracelets. 

“I guess you’re the only one that can have the money in the relationship?” I raised my eyebrow at him, waiting for him to respond. 

The beautiful blonde boy that seeped into my bloodstream and made me love him. But, ruined us in the process. He destroyed everything he touched. 

He pressed the heel of his palms against his eyes, 

“What happened?”

“You want to know what happened? You fucking happened.”

That familiar anger flared in his eyes and I knew exactly what he was going to do. What he always did to me, but this time, I wasn’t going to let him erase me. Not again.

“Let’s talk about who you turned into?” JJ spat vehemently. “What? Rafe buys you a nice purse and you’re suddenly snorting lines of coke?” 

“It was actually a couple purses.” 

JJ shot daggers at me. “So what? You’re proud of that?” No, I only wanted someone to care about me if I died.

“I’m only doing what you told me, I’m sorry you don’t like the person you turned me into.”

I didn’t like her much either. But, JJ never gave me more and I realized he would never give me more, no matter how much I pushed. No matter how hard I tried to get him to see that I was the one he should be with. 

It pained me that it took all of this for me to realize that there were parts of JJ he would never let anyone have. 

“Why are you still here?” I said quietly. “I’m not going to let you sit here and make me feel like shit for how I chose to cope with what you broke.” 

I was done giving the men in my life power over me. I needed to stand on my own two feet even if that meant I had to do it alone. 

“Feel like shit?” JJ nodded his head with mock outrage,” Princess, you just let me fuck you in your boyfriend’s bed. I think you feel like shit already.” 

He was right, but I still recoiled back at the venom he spat at me. I sagged with exhaustion. He was just lashing out the way he always did.

“I didn’t know, JJ.” My voice cracked. “I-I didn’t know. I just did what I thought I was supposed to do.”

JJ’s head snapped up at the waver in my voice. His ocean eyes showed a clear battle, one I knew he’d lose. “S-Sometimes it just felt like I wasn’t good enough.”

His confession broke me. I knew the thoughts that ravaged his brain only because those same thoughts now drown in mine.  

My fingers twisted the hem of the shirt that my body was swimming in, a nervous tic I never got rid of. “But I never said that to you, you listened to everyone but me. You were more than enough.”

A tortured look passed his face, like the obvious miscommunication had disrupted everything. “I thought I was being paraded around to prove a point.”

I roughly wiped the tears that kept falling, “It’s okay to not want to struggle for everything in your life, JJ. You were exhausted and I just wanted to help you.”

“I didn’t know. I-just didn’t know.” I continued to repeat.  And I didn't. I had no experience with love. I wanted him to have the world since he was born with less than most people I knew, yet he deserved so much more.

“You let your friends help you, I don’t understand how I was any different.”

His blonde hair was sticking up in multiple directions, a clear sign of his obvious distress. "Because they’re my family."

Irremediable sorrow burrowed in my chest. "But, I was your family too."

I felt layers of grief his me in waves, quick and hard, one after the other as I came to terms with the fact that JJ never considered me any part of his family.

"You were the only family I ever had. I thought I was your family.” I sniffled, my ribs began to ache from the constant crying. 

A loud crack had me jump back as Rafe bursted into the room, chest heaving from exertion. He paused, his eyes locking in on the messed up sheets before dragging over to me and scanning my disheveled appearance. 

I thought we hit a milestone. JJ finally started talking and letting me know exactly what was going on in that brain of his. And maybe, that would be enough for me, for now. This all happened because JJ didn’t know how to communicate and I knew that wasn’t his fault, but at one point he needed to grow up. 

I was willing to hold his hand while he did it. But I watched as JJ’s eyes clocked the necklace Rafe wore with my initials. His gaze narrowed at the purse in his hand and my car keys in the other. 

The jealousy was evident in the way he rolled his shoulders back, his face granite. “Cute necklace.”

Rafe smirked, tilting his head to the side. “Thanks. It looks even better swinging in her face.”

JJ’s cool demeanor dropped, his blue eyes darkened into a brewing storm. “Enjoy my seconds, bro.” He clapped Rafe on the chest. 

My heart popped in my chest at his words, another bandage would do little to fix the shards that once resembled a heart. And, I knew then, that JJ confirmed the conclusion I just came to myself. 

“JJ?”

“What?”

“You were right. I do deserve better than you.” 

Loving him cost me something much greater: myself. 

I couldn’t continue to hide myself in any man that told me pretty words. I was no longer my own person, just a mere extension of them. One that they treated poorly and only took out when they were bored. I was always willing to do what they would never do for me.

I was just a girl, in love with an extraordinary boy who couldn’t see past all the things he was not.

I walked over to where Rafe was, forcing myself to remember his cruel words also. It was the only way I could get myself to walk out of here. My eyes lingered on the necklace for a second before I pulled my keys from his grasp and grabbed my purse. 

I wore nothing but JJ’s shirt, but at the moment I couldn’t care less. I left my clothes in Rafe’s bathroom, deciding it was better to leave them then spend another second in either of their soul sucking presence. I could always buy another dress. 

I couldn’t buy another me. Not if I kept letting these boys break me. 

This time, I was the one that never looked back.

Side note: I WROTE THIS THREE TIMES so pls pls pls be nice to me. I tried to incorporate a lot of people's ideas. I know the OC is very wishy washy but she's so real for that.

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[stansangel]

Ford Angst Imagine

Pairings: Stanford Pines x Reader Warnings: angst, Ford being a meanie weenie Word Count: 473 A/N: Had to do the other twin like I did the first. Thank you.

The storm outside matched the fury in Ford's eyes as he paced the floor of the Mystery Shack, each step more agitated than the last. You sat on the edge of the bed, your heart pounding as you watched him struggle to contain his emotions.

“Ford, please just talk to me,” you pleaded, your voice trembling. “Whatever’s going on, we can work through it together.”

He stopped abruptly, turning to face you, his face twisted with frustration. “That’s just it,” he snapped, his voice louder than you’d ever heard it before. “You don’t get it, do you? You think everything can be solved by just ‘talking,’ but this… this is beyond that!”

His words stung, but you refused to back down. “I care about you, Ford! Why won’t you let me help?”

“Because you can’t help!” he shouted, his fists clenching at his sides. “You don’t understand what I’m dealing with, what’s at stake. This isn’t some problem you can just fix with love and understanding. This is something you could never even fathom. Something someone like you could never understand!”

Your eyes filled with tears, but you blinked them away, refusing to let him see you break. “You’re shutting me out, and it’s tearing us apart. I don’t care how hard it is, I want to be there for you.”

Stanford’s expression hardened, his eyes narrowing as he took a step closer. “I don’t need you to be there for me,” he said, his voice cold and final. “What I need is for you to stay out of my way. I can’t keep worrying about you screwing things up when I’ve got bigger things to deal with.”

The harshness of his words hit you like a punch to the gut, knocking the breath from your lungs. “So, what are you saying? That you don’t want me around anymore?”

He hesitated, his anger momentarily giving way to something softer, something almost regretful. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by the same steely resolve. “I’m saying this isn’t working,” he said, his tone flat. “It hasn't been for a while and it’s better for both of us if we just… end it here.”

The finality of his words hung in the air, suffocating you. You searched his face for any sign of the man you fell in love with, but all you saw was someone who had already made up his mind.

“Ford, please…” you whispered, your voice cracking. But he shook his head, his jaw set.

“It’s over,” he said, turning away from you. “I’m sorry, but this is the way it has to be.”

And with that, he walked out of the room, leaving you alone in the silence, the sound of the rain outside the only thing to fill the void where his presence used to be.

[yandere--stuck]

Bad Idea, Right? (Yandere!Stanley Pines x Reader)

Stan was stupid. Stupid, irrational, impulsive, selfish, arrogant, aggressive. A liar, a traitor, a cheat, a thief. Everything everyone has ever said about him was true, and he had the gall to try to convince anyone otherwise. The town, his family, you, even himself. 

But this, this right here, had cemented the facts. Stanley Pines was a monster who didn't care about anyone but himself. Not really. He'd finally fucked up bad enough. Dug a hole so deep that even he couldn't crawl out of it.

God. He had his face in his hands, rubbing the skin in frustration. How would he get out of this? Could he? Was it really too late?

With a sigh, Stan looked up. He sat in Ford's underground laboratory, having taken a seat in front of the desk overlooking the portal. He turned to look at you - still asleep in the bed Stan had dragged down here long before he'd enacted his plan.

The guilt made his stomach turn. The guilt in knowing that, really, this wasn't impulsive. This was planned.

He couldn't help it. Or maybe that's what he told himself so he could go through with it. He should've kept his boundaries up. He should've chased you off. He should have never hired you in the first place! 

Ugh, but it wasn't like Stan wanted this to happen! How was he supposed to know he'd end up falling for you? Look, maybe if you hadn't been so chummy and sweet to him, trying to make him come out of his shell and lower his guard, acting all cute and like you knew you had him wrapped around your little finger and… No, no, this was all wrong. This wasn't your fault. This was all on him.

You were just a nice person. You had been a good and helpful employee, and then, as you grew to know each other more, a good friend. He just found himself magnetized to you. He loved cracking jokes and just talking with you, drinking in your affection and attention like a man dying of dehydration. And not to mention how good you were with the kids! The fact that they liked and looked up to you only further instilled his fondness for you.

It was almost embarrassing how smitten he was with you. God, it made him feel like a young man again, even long after he should've called off love for good, considering all his failed marriages. He could only hope it wasn't obvious, especially considering what he'd done now. He at least couldn't recall a time when he'd referred to you as a honey-wasp-kitten-baby.

Stan found himself wanting you to depend on him. To be your hero. To take care of you. And now look at what he'd done. You were an innocent victim of an obsessive freak. You had opened your heart to him and found it in you to care about this old scumbag, and this was how he repaid you.

Dipper and Mabel had gone off doing something with Wendy and her friends in the evening. He'd been able to push Soos out of the shack early enough after closing. No witnesses. Anything could have happened on your walk home, after all.

It had been easy to insist you stay for dinner. And it'd been even easier to mix all sorts of shit into your drink with you none the wiser. There was a reason he didn't bring up his past around you.

A sudden whimper startled him from his thoughts, the man’s posture going ramrod straight for a moment before scrambling to your side. Concern was etched into his features as he watched your face scrunch up as you came to.

Your vision swam, the room above you was spinning as you awoke. You could swear at least four Stans circled above you, just as unfocused as everything else - so much so that it hurt just to keep your eyes open.

Your eyes fell shut as you let out a groan. “...Stan?”

You wouldn't know how Stan's heart nearly leapt from his chest, hearing you say his name like that.

His hands immediately closed around yours, giving them a squeeze. “Yeah, yeah, it's me. I'm right here. I'm right here, sweetheart.”

The pet name tasted like bile in his mouth. As if he deserved to call you that. 

“Wha’ happened,” You slurred. “I feel sick…”

A hand clamped over his mouth. His stomach did a flip. God, he was gonna be sick himself. First, he ruined his brother's life, then his own, and now he was ruining yours. That's so like him. This was so like him.

“Yeah,” Stan started, almost breathless. “You're sick, honey. But, I'm gonna take care of you, okay? Everything’s gonna be alright.”

His heart skipped a beat when you didn't reply. Pressing a finger to the pulse point on your throat, he held his breath and listened to the frantic beating of his own heart. Then, he exhaled in relief. Just sleeping. Of course.

Stan stood above you for a moment, looking over you. He could turn back now. He could bring you back upstairs and let you sleep on the couch. In the morning, he could fake being ill and blame it on his cooking. You could go home, he’d give you time to sleep it off and everything would go back to normal and you'd have no idea!

Then, Stan sighed. He could do all that. He could do it right now. But, he wouldn't. Because he didn't want to. He had wanted you right here, and he had you. No amount of guilt would ever make him give you up.

Stan leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

This was just who he was. And it may be his fault, but you needed him now. He needed to be responsible for you. He needed to take care of you. He needed to be your hero. He needed to be needed by you.

And that's just what he'd do.

[millenianthemums]

Cross-posting the first chapter of the Bill & Mabel Friendship AU fic from Ao3 to tumblr! I thought it would be fun to do some chapter art for it. Find the fic on Ao3 here!

Next chapter

————————-

Bill Cipher woke up in darkness.

That was what he thought at first, anyway. Darkness. Pitch black, impenetrable darkness, but nothing that worried him. Just a simple thought and he could light up his surroundings.

He tried. Nothing happened.

That didn’t mean anything, he thought, pushing down a momentary surge of panic. He just needed to focus. He could concentrate better if he snapped his fingers.

He tried. That didn’t work either. He couldn’t snap his fingers. Why couldn’t he snap his fingers? Where were his fingers? Where were his hands?

The panic surged forth again. He tried to relax, but a thousand questions were piling up in his mind. Where was he right now? How did he get here? Why couldn’t he tell where his hands were? It was dark, sure, but he couldn’t even feel them. He couldn’t feel anything . He tried to send his vision outward, reaching his mind out to feel around for a depiction of himself to look through. A better vantage point would help him orient himself. It could be anything. A bit of graffiti scrawled on a dumpster would be enough. Anything that would let him see something other than darkness.

He couldn’t find anything. Why couldn’t he find anything? There were always options, billions of options, billions of little eyes scattered across billions of worlds like uncountable spy drones. Almost too many to choose from, that was the only problem. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d sought one out and not found one. He kept trying to push his mind further, to try and push through the darkness, but it seemed like it went on forever. He thought he was gasping for breath from the effort, he must have been, but he couldn’t hear it. He couldn’t feel himself breathing. He tried calling out. He couldn’t hear his own voice.

The panic overflowed. What was happening to him? What was this place? How did he even get here?! He tried to wrangle his unraveling mind enough to mentally retrace his steps. The last thing he remembered, he’d been in the Fearamid. He’d been celebrating. All his millenia of work had finally begun to pay off, countless eons spent watching and waiting and carefully prodding at history were about to come to fruition. Weirdmaggedon was finally here. At long last he was about to complete his life’s work, to complete the universe, to finally have everything he’d always deserved. He just needed one equation to collapse the barrier between him and reality. Ford was just about to hand it over when–

Ford.

It all came flooding back. It was Ford. Or, no, it wasn’t Ford, it was a trick . He and his brother had tricked him, trapped him in the wrong mind, and he’d been too caught up in the fervor of victory to realize it until it was too late. Until the jaws of the trap had slammed shut behind him, cutting off his exit, no escape, no way to backtrack, nowhere to run from the flames closing in, from Stanley towering over him, and then…

And then.

His mind scattered as horror tore through it. Was this death? Was this his afterlife? Was this how he’d spend the rest of eternity, an orphaned mind cut off from all senses, floating in the void? Trapped alone with his thoughts forever? He tried to call out again, to scream for help. There had to be somebody somewhere who could hear him. Somebody who could end this. He couldn’t stay like this. Torture would be better than this. If this universe really wanted to punish him so badly, it could set him on fire, or tear him apart into atoms, or pluck all his organs out one by one every day for eternity. Anything. Anything but this. Anything but nothing, forever.

Eventually, Bill accepted that trying to scream wasn’t working. He couldn’t even feel his own throat to know if the sound was escaping. And even if he was really screaming, who would answer? Who would listen? The Henchmaniacs had probably all split as soon as they saw the party was over. None of them were exactly “ride or die” types. They stuck around while the music was playing, but he knew they’d never stay late to pick up the solo cups all over the house. It had never been a problem before. He’d always been able to keep the music playing, keep stringing them along with promised glory and well-placed threats. But now? Forget it. They were all long gone by now.

And who else was there? Was there any other living creature left out there in the multiverse who knew who he was and didn’t have it out for him? His one last hail mary seemed to have fallen on deaf ears. There was no sign of anybody. No sign that anyone cared at all.

He was glad, for just a moment, that he couldn’t feel his face. He didn’t want to know if he was crying. He never gave himself time for self-pity if he had any choice. But now the only thing he had left was time. All the time he could ever need to torture himself with.

All he’d wanted to do was fix things. To make everything better. To make everyone see that without all their stupid rules, everything could be better than they’d ever let themselves imagine. He could have shown them. He’d tried to show them. That was all he’d wanted to do. And this was the thanks he got for it?!

It could have been any amount of time that he spent in that place, stewing in rage and despair. It could have been days or weeks or maybe years, it really didn’t matter. All that mattered was that eventually, he ran out of energy. He gave up trying to scream loud enough to reach his own ears. He just focused on slowing his mind to a crawl. Stopping his thoughts. Trying to just fade away into the darkness, waiting to see if maybe someday something would happen.

Nothing happened for a very long time.

But eventually something did.

The first thing he noticed was a sound. Soft and gentle, reverberating through the void. Bill snapped to awareness, his mind spinning wildly as he tried to remember how to think. He’d heard something. He’d heard something. Someone else was here.

“WHO’S THERE?!” He winced at the sound of his own voice. He almost didn’t even recognize it; it was strained and ragged, on the verge of giving out completely. He didn’t care. He could hear it. That was what mattered right now.

The sound returned, and this time he caught what it said. A voice, speaking a single word. “Bill.”

“WHO IS THAT?! WHERE ARE YOU?!?” he roared, desperately scanning the void in front of him.

“Bill! Stop screaming. I’m right next to you.”

With a start, Bill realized the voice was directly behind him. He found that he could move again, turned around, and was instantly flashbanged by a searing ray of pink light. Floating before him was a massive pale creature, all soft rounded angles, with a long finned tail and a remarkably stupid-looking face.

Bill would recognize them anywhere. He let out a hoarse laugh. “DECIDED TO SHOW UP AFTER ALL, HUH? YOU SURE TOOK YOUR SWEET TIME! WHAT, YOU GET HELD UP IN TRAFFIC WHILE I WAS STUCK ROTTING IN HERE?!”

“I was waiting for you to calm down,” the Axolotl said.

Bill’s eye bulged. “YOU WERE– YOU COULD HEAR ME?!? YOU MEAN THIS WHOLE TIME YOU WERE– YOU COULD’VE– AND YOU JUST–?!?” His dumbfounded stuttering slowly turned to broiling rage. “YOU– DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT I JUST WENT THROUGH?! YOU WERE JUST FLOATING THERE WATCHING ME WHILE I WENT THROUGH THE TENTH CIRCLE OF HELL RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU?! IS THAT HOW YOU GET YOUR SICK KICKS?!? BECAUSE I CAN DO YOU ONE BETTER IF YOU WANNA SWITCH THE ROLES AROUND, YOU MISERABLE PINK–” his voice cut out halfway through the insult. He grabbed at his face and found it was numb.

“I can come back later if you’re not ready yet.” The Axolotl’s voice was completely flat.

“WHAT–? NO!!! NO NO NO WAIT!!!!!” Bill threw his arms out desperately, trying to grab for them. He didn’t get anywhere close, but they stopped in their tracks anyway, looking back at him.

“I– I’M FINE. I’M CALM. SEE?” He kept his arms raised in surrender to demonstrate. “I’M CALM, I SWEAR. JUST… DON’T LEAVE ME IN HERE AGAIN.”

The Axolotl stared at him with their blank, dopey expression. He kept as still and quiet as he possibly could.

“Alright,” they finally said. “If you’re ready, we can discuss the terms of our contract.”

“YES. TERMS. CONTRACT. I’M READY.” Bill forced himself to sound calm and collected and not at all like he wanted to crush his conversation partner’s big stupid pink head in his clawed hand. The instant their deal was made and he was alive again, this damn amphibian was getting an all-expenses-paid one-way trip to a snow globe full of acid.

“I've had time to think things over," they said. "There is a certain protocol I usually follow here, but these past few months watching you in here have made me think it might not work well for you. So here's how we'll do this. I will grant you a return to life…”

“YES! FANTASTIC. LET’S GET GOING ON THAT, HUH?”

“...but I have some terms that you’ll need to agree to first.”

Bill sighed. He suspected this was coming. No such thing as a free lunch. “LAY ‘EM ON ME.”

“I will return you to life. I will return your body to its original state, exactly as it was when you last had it; no more, no less. All I ask is the promise of one favor in return.”

It wasn’t like he had a choice, but he didn’t risk complaining. “WHICH IS?”

The Axolotl stared placidly. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Bill stared back. “SO… WHAT. IT COULD BE ANYTHING? JUST WHATEVER YOU FEEL LIKE?”

“It won’t endanger your life,” the Axolotl said. “And you will be capable of doing it. But beyond that… yes.”

Bill laughed humorlessly. “THIS IS A BIT, RIGHT? THIS IS A JOKE?”

“No, Bill.”

“SO YOU’RE ACTUALLY MAKING ME SIGN A BLANK CHECK HERE. UNDER THREAT OF DEATH.”

“I’m not threatening death.” A hint of annoyance breached the Axolotl’s calm demeanor. “I’m offering you life. A way out of this mess you’ve made. And those are my terms.”

“THE MESS I’VE… ?! YOU’RE PINNING ALL THIS ON ME?!?” Bill exploded. “THIS HAPPENED TO ME! I GOT STABBED IN THE BACK AND MURDERED!! AND I’M STILL WAITING TO HEAR THESE ‘TERMS’, BUD! YOU DON’T GET TO JUST HAND ME A BLANK CONTRACT AND FILL IT OUT LATER, THAT’S NOT FAIR !!”

The Axolotl’s dot eyes narrowed to thin slits. “Of course. ‘Fair’. Just like all the famously clear, mutually beneficial, deeply ‘fair’ deals you’ve made.”

Bill clammed up. He couldn’t go off like this. If the Axolotl decided they were fed up, he knew they wouldn’t stick around. And they might not come back. He had no other choice but to listen to their brain-dead, moralistic lectures and nod his head like he agreed. So, reluctantly, he did.

“I’m offering you one last chance,” the Axolotl continued. “A return to your original, physical body. A chance to start over and make things right. All I ask is one small favor in the future, when I return. If that’s not fair enough for you, I’m happy to leave.”

Bill dragged his hands down his face. If he said what he was really thinking, there was no way he’d ever get out of here. There was no sense dragging this out any longer. He didn’t want to listen to this smug bastard prattle on for one more second. There would be time for revenge later; right now he just wanted out of this place.

He extended a hand. “FINE. DEAL.”

The Axolotl grasped Bill’s hand in a massive pink paw. As the void around them began to fade from black to gray, a thought that had been gnawing at the back of his mind suddenly surfaced. When they’d laid out their deal, the Axolotl had been worryingly specific on one particular detail. “Your original, physical body… no more, no less…”

“HOLD ON,” he said. “WHAT DID YOU MEAN BY–”

“Time to wake up, Bill.”

His vision turned white.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hey hi so I just have this flash of an idea: Reader saving Ford / Stan out of a danger they’re facing. Like I’m talking reader carrying them bridal style and gently putting them down and being all “Are you alright, my love?” Hehehehhehehehe blushy boys

Stanley was a punch first, ask questions at a later date type of guy, he was use to being the protector of the family no matter if the guy he was up against was bigger. He always came out on top in the end.

So when he found himself being lifted into your arms and you brought him out of the line of danger and looked at him with a face full of concern before asking; ‘are you alright my love?’ He knew he watched too much of that sappy romance drama Mabel got him into as he felt his cheeks burn hotter then ever.

‘I’m fine now toots thanks to you.’ He replies, trying to keep his cool when his heart was hammering in his chest and all he could think about was how attractive you were in his eyes, then again you were always attractive in his eyes but there was something about being saved by you that made him conflicted.

On one hand, Stan was the man in the relationship, he’s meant to keep you safe from all harm -paranormal or otherwise- and if he didn’t do that, then he wasn’t a man. But he also felt relieved that he didn’t have to always look out for himself anymore when he’s with you, knowing you had his back as much as he had yours no matter what. It was reassuring knowing that he could fall back on someone and know that they’ll catch him when he falls.

So while he still might think that he should still be the one protecting you and all, Stanley doesn’t mind it one bit when you’re looking at him with such caring eyes, hands holding his face as though he was the most precious thing in your life. (he was, he very much was)

‘I’m glad.’ You said with a smile, ‘now let’s stay as far away from here as we can from now on.’ You added as you grabbed his hand to walk back to the mystery shack.

‘I dunno doll face, I might just get myself into a bit of trouble more often if it means having you come save me.’ Stanley teased with a wink.

‘Don’t push it. I might not always be there to save you.’ You said playfully as you nudged him with your elbow to his side.

Ford’s face was as red as cherry tomatoes the second he recognised he was in your arms, carried away from the skeletal deer anomaly that had seemingly lost all interest in both of you, but yet his face somehow got even more redder when you put him down on a nearby fallen tree stump to hold his face in your hands as you said:

‘Are you alright my love?’

He’s suddenly finding the fungi growing on the side of the tree trunk more interesting than meeting your eyes as the words caught in his throat. Ford always though it’s be him carrying you away from danger, keeping you safe and making sure that you weren’t hurt in any way, he could handle them thanks to the survival skills he built up whilst in the multiverse; and yet here he was feeling as though he was developing his first crush on you all over again.

‘I’m fine dear, apologise for being caught off guard.’ He tells you as he couldn’t help but be ashamed that he allowed himself to get lost in the excitement of seeing a new anomaly. You literally him while he was still mid sketching the cryptid!

‘It’s okay Ford, I know how you get with new anomalies but I often wish you didn’t almost risk certain death just to finish sketching them.’ You said softly as you gingerly brushed your thumb against a thin cut he had gotten on his cheek from the skeletal deer anomaly, you knew this man has survived worse but you couldn’t help but worry every time he got hurt somehow. After all it was better to admire something form far rather then within it’s territory, and the anomaly happened to be hostile and territorial.

Ford sighed as he lent into your touch, still getting use to your tendency for physical contact after going so long without it, closing his eyes as he took this moment to cherish your unconditional love and affection for him. After all his dad only started giving a shit about him the moment he figured he could gain money from exploiting his own son’s intelligence. ‘Apologise once again my dear-‘ you cut him off by pressing a kiss to his forehead, thumbs caressing his face as though he were made of porcelain.

‘It’s okay my love, I just worry about your safety and want you to do what you love safely.’ You tell him as you pull away from him before offering him your hand with a smile. ‘Now let’s go find an anomaly that won’t hunt us down for sport.’ You add as Ford grabbed your hand and smiled.

‘I’m sure I spotted some mushroom people not too far from here having a dispute with some gnomes not too far from here, shall we take a look?’ He asks you and you gestured to the vastness of the forest in front of you both with your free hand. ‘By all means lead the way mr Pines.’ You replied softly as you both searched high and low for disputing mushroom people and gnomes.