#ford event

[checoloid]

Sergio event with Ford!

Picture 1-2 From Samueldileo on Instagram 📸

[tazmiilly]

various college doodles

[silvrrsun]

This could’ve happened…

Text typed below cut!

Ford: “Would you mind if I changed my dress shirt? It seems I got residue on it…”

Fiddleford: “Go ahead, Stanford.”

Ford: “Great!”

[mikkeneko]

On January 30, 1835, US president Andrew Jackson was confronted by Richard Lawrence, who twice attempted to shoot him in the back with a pistol but the gun did not fire. Andrew Jackson proceeded to beat the crap out of Lawrence with his cane. Jackson did not run again in the 1836 election.

On October 14, 1912, former US President and running candidate for the 1912 election Theodore Roosevelt was shot in the chest by John Schrank while on the campaign trail in Milwaukee. He stayed at the podium and delivered the remark "Friends, I shall ask you to be as quiet as possible. I don't know whether you fully understand that I have just been shot—but it takes more than that to kill a Bull Moose." Despite the extreme badassery of this line, he lost the 1912 election to Woodrow Wilson.

On May 15, 1972, US presidential candidate George Wallace was shot by a man named Arthur Bremer in Laurel, Maryland. He was injured enough by the attempt that he retired from the 1972 election. He ran for president again in 1976, and did not succeed.

On September 5, 1975, US president Gerald Ford was confronted on the grounds of the Capitol Building by Lynette Fromme, who attempted to shoot him but was not successful; he then went on to be shot at by another woman, Jane Moore, less than two weeks later. Ford campaigned for re-election in the 1976 election, but lost to Jimmy Carter.

While looking up citations for this post I found out about any number of presidential assassination attempts I never even knew about; Wikipedia has an entire category page for them (and another for successful assassinations.) Gerald Ford was shot at twice in two weeks, and Barack Obama at least three times.

Sadly, this type of political violence in the United States is not at all new, not at all uncommon, and the incidence of attempted assassination seems to have no correlation whatsoever as to the individual's success rate in future elections.

[papercutslut]

"FOUND YA, FORDSY!"

[delicioustarong]

Their last conversation... anyways this is the "sweet moments" I was talking about LMAO

Creator: @honeqq

(6/7)

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 |

[theposhperyton]

Is this anything chat

[the-great-horse-cocktail]

Alternate timeline where Stanley doesn’t accidentally ruin Ford’s project but he still doesn’t get into Geek Life University bc some kid showed up with a baking soda volcano

[badlyblurry]

After scrolling through a bunch of jokes about Ford learning about 9/11, I thought “he should listen to We Didn’t Start the Fire to catch up.”

then I looked up what years are covered by that song and it’s 1949 to 1989 according to google, so he wouldn’t learn that many new things, but this idea was just too good not to draw.

Guess he’ll have to wait for the Fall Out Boy cover

[fist-of-vengeance]

so what do we think fiddleford saw when he looked into the gremloblin's eyes? dude was so traumatised that stanford "oblivious to my assistant's emotional turmoil" pines took notice. it's what motivated him to INVENT THE MEMORY GUN IN THE FIRST PLACE. I'm honestly surprised i haven't seen more speculation about this

[dimonds456-art]

More of this AU, whoops

[eagleeyethree]

Bill your reign is OVER

[typing-catastrophe]

You see me? - part one (stanford pines x hallucination!reader)

masterlist 1k words | warnings: none --------------------------------------------------

'This is new', he thought, looking straight ahead at something that he was sure he shouldn't be able to look at.

"Can you see me?", a beat of silence, "You can, can't you?" there was caution in your voice, almost as if you wouldn't let yourself believe it. "Please say something"

Ford kept quiet.

"Say something."

Nothing.

"SAY SOMETHING!"

Ford sighed, took off his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. The long hours and relentless work were starting to get to him. He put his glasses back on and turned back to his desk.

"No, no! Please!" you begged, panic rising in your voice.

'Perhaps not entirely new, but certainly concerning.' He couldn't recall if Bill ever did actively made him hallucinate when he was lucid, or if everything he experienced was already in the mindscape, but either way - what was happening in this very moment felt a bit too realistic for his liking.

What was happening, broken down to its very basics, was that a stranger stood in his study. And they simply had no way to be there. Apart from the fact that it was the middle of the night and the shack was closed, the way to his study was hidden and he did not hear the elevator move or open its doors. No one except for him should and could be here. No one was here when he came down here hours ago. There was no place they could've hidden. There was no possible scenario in which the situation at hand could've taken place. So the only option left, in his blurry mind, was that the last 30 to 40 years finally caught up to him and he was going insane.

At that moment he didn't even consider a paranormal explanation. Maybe because he believed the shack was sufficiently secured against all kinds of anomalies and supernatural occurrences. Or maybe because in the back of his mind, he always did ask himself when the time would finally come when his mind simply... snapped.

Years and years of stress, mind fuckery, all kinds of injuries and multiverse jumps must've left their mark on his psyche in some way after all.

But what did surprise him was the... well, normality of it. It was just a person. It would've made more sense to see Bill or any of the other things he saw in his frequent nightmares. Maybe the more severe ones would come later?

He propped open the new journal he had started recently and poured his thoughts onto the paper.

-

You could only watch in confusion and hurt when the man turned away and got back to whatever the hell it was he was doing all the time.

What had just happened? When he looked up from his work, his eyes landed on you. He didn't look through you like every other time and everyone else. This time was different! But why did he act like it wasn't? What was he doing? Why was he ignoring you?

Your newfound hope left you as abrupt as it had appeared. You felt so impossibly lonely again. Empty, distant, cold. Ever so cold with no source for the freezing feeling that seeped deep into your bones.

He could see you. You knew it.

This wasn't like the times when you were screaming and crying and pleading for him - for anyone - to hear you.

He. could. see. you.

And you knew it.

-

For a good minute, Ford stared straight ahead at the blank page. He desperately tried to form a coherent thought he could write down, but when he tried to get a hold of them, it felt like his metaphorical hands moved through fog, swirling eerie patterns into it, but never grasping anything solid.

The urge to let his head sink onto the table got stronger by the second, yet he resisted. He squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep inhale and straightened his back. He got this. He didn't need to sleep, not yet.

He stood up and stretched his arms over his head, stifling a yawn while doing so.

"Why are you ignoring me?" You had sat down on the floor a respectful distance away from him, legs pulled close to your chest, arms hugged tightly around them. Now you looked up at him with genuine hurt in your eyes.

You didn't know this man, and he didn't know you. The only circumstance that justified the sharp pang in your chest was the fact that he was the only one around actually being able to perceive you, yet for a reason unbeknownst to you, acted like he wasn't.

'Still there, hm?' he thought. He had hoped shifting his focus onto something else would help, but apparently, it did not. The figure was still present, still talking to him. He would like to take a proper look at it, but he was afraid that engaging with it would make the whole thing worse. You were not doing anything at the moment, and he'd rather keep it that way.

He yawned again, cursing himself for indulging in the weakness of his own body. It felt like it was betraying him, lulling him in and tempting him to lay down. But he knew what would inevitably follow. The pain, the torture, the guilt. He could not let that happen. Bill would not claim any more of his time and thought than absolutely necessary. He would not willingly leap into the open arms of whatever terror was already waiting for him.

"You should go to sleep. It's late. And you look tired." Ford almost scoffed at that.

All he needed was some good old, reliable coffee and he was as good as new. So he went upstairs, grabbed a new mug to set down next to all the other mugs on his desk and workbench, filled it to the brim with the dark, hot liquid and made his way underground again.

He was relieved to see that his hallucination apparently showed no interest in following him upstairs, but he was just as disappointed to see that it was still sitting in the same spot when he returned. He sat the mug down and with a defeated sigh lowered himself onto his chair.

It was going to be a long night.

-------------------------------------------------- thank you for reading <3 reblogs are appreciated masterlist a/n: holy shit i did it! i found the time, energy and motivation yaayy @cynamon-ancymon thought this might interest you ^^ if not just let me know and i remove the tag

[kblyx3]

me and my pookie bear :3

[softfeelingsandangstywriting]

my thoughts about how Stanley got into the In-Between in the HWINEBHABWNAJCAHOWEEATOWEUB au :3 bc he's my son and i am in terrible terrible pain. i just got a little silly and neeeeeded to get this out of my brain

@a-scary-lack-of-common-sense i'm lowkey (highkey) sure you didn't want 2 be pinged but here is my offering (ricky, when i catch you ricky. when i catch you ricky. ricky when i catch you ricky. ricky when i catch you ricky--)

uhh word count is ~600, just a little baby drabble

---

Shadows. Gold and red, triangles and hands and overwhelming fear.

Stanley.

Stanley, Stanley, Stanley, the cause for Ford’s own terror, he was with the gold and not the scarlet, but he was not supposed to be there, so close to the screaming dangerdangerdangerdangerdanger.

So far from them, he could see his brother's lips moving, moving fast, no doubt speaking whatever he thought may get him out of the situation.

Good, Ford thought bitterly. The demon was his problem and his problem alone, born of his own foolishness.

He’d be damned if Stanley found his way into its maw because of him. He needed to get up, get going, movemovemove before he lost something so dear to him once more. Fidds had been enough to teach him his lesson right and proper.

(Stanford tried to ignore that he’d almost missed the universe’s cue. That he’d almost continued his work towards the likely end of his species.)

No, no– He was almost stilled by the choking darkness, as though he were moving through a sea of molasses to get to his brother. The great beast’s eye did not move, but he could feel its look upon his skin, boring through flesh and sinew and bone into the very depths of his skull. His struggles had drawn its attention.

Yet still, it did not look as starved as it did trapped.

And its newest victim was its only likely way out.

STANLEY!

His voice, though loud in his ears, rang out exactly nowhere. This damn place, trapping him as a witness. Could he fight it? Could he push against it? Where even was he?? A mindscape? If so, who’s? Stanley’s? Because this was a very depressing mind if so. But it wasn’t his, and he had incredible doubts it was Cipher’s. And that was hinging on the question of if they could enter his or not.

A dream, maybe. He prayed it was a terrible, awful, fever-dream vivid nightmare.

That he was very much consciously thinking about and aware of. He wasn’t one to experience lucid dreams, they’d never come to him as easily as they did–

Right, Stanley. Stanley. How had he forgotten? It was, quite literally, the most important task at hand. He needed to try and do something, fight against the oppressing disgust the place was beginning to cause him and the way it felt as though it was beginning to crawl into his limbs and settle there, weighing him down.

Shit. Keep moving, keep kicking. If he stopped he might not try again to get up and that would leave his twin all on his lonesome.

Red and yellow and white and black black black black black black black black– It was all alarmingly starting to mix together in his swimming head. It was getting to him.

What was getting to him?

Right. Stan. Stan. He had to move. The scarlet was being swallowed up by the grow of the golden glow and that was never a good sign.

Stanley still wasn’t looking at him, he’d hardly moved besides the short, uncomfortable fidgets Ford knew of him (they hadn’t talked in so long. Did he get any back from their childhood, out from under pa’s thumb? Did he lose any? How well did he even still know his brother?) and the occasional glance around when the triangle had moved.

Oh, but now he was hastily backing up. A good idea. Ford was closer, but still not close enough.

Not enough to reach Stanley. Not enough to stop the gilded arm that grabbed at his twin while Ford shrieked.

Up it went, the pyramid breaking its shape to bend backwards and

down

and

down

and

down.

And Stanley was gone.

[localcanadiancreature62]

Hello Billford nation. What's this you ask?. Well i decided to make a lil event thing for the man triangle relations since Fiddauthor has Fiddauthorweek2024 and Fiddlestan has Fiddlestantober. I'm hosting a BillfordWeek2024 which means that you can make writing and art entries based on the prompts i gave out. Event starts on Oct 28 aka in three days.

• RULES •

= @ me and put the tag #BillfordWeek2024 when you make your entry.

= Only writing and art entries are allowed. Which means only drabbles fics fanart fully rendered pieces and the like can be included in the event.

= Deadline is Nov 25. Any entries made after then are disqualified,although you can keep your art/writing i'll still appreciate it.

= Have fun and don't police people for whatever they do with the prompt. Pls.

= Nsfw works are allowed. Do with this what you will. I am an enabler.

@aria-greenhoodie @wind-tail @cecilscribbles y'alls seem to be the type of people to like these kinda things,so i implore you to either join or spread the word. Also pspspsps @nico-the-overlord @agothorn look.

Comment if you want to join or are interested in seeing the event. I don't want my work to be a waste.