#ford is a power bottom

[littlecrow4]

CW: Suggestive WillFord

Somethin somethin Will has been a good boy and Ford decides to reward him by letting Will touch him finally (guess who tops lol)

Touch starved god x master that gets off on watching him suffer ig

I know I’m so creative lmao

Anyhoo Will has Ford’s favorite constellations tattooed onto his body and Ford has the “William” constellation tattooed on his body

I didn’t want to make Will look exactly like Bill so his body markings/tattoos look different then Bill’s I’ll probably do a reference for it if I feel like it

[fordtramarina]

sorry to omegaverse post but unfortunately I am a freak for omegaverse andwill probably post about it at a later date so I'm sharing this justso you all know what to expect ... Bless... My stances on this treacherous topic

[the-kipsabian]

[thelastspeecher]

fordsprettylabassistant replied to your post: “Okay so, we know that in the show Ford deals with...”

Ooo!! All good points!! It makes a lot of sense for Ford to like, feel more at home I guess? He probably feels very relieved that he's surrounded by people who get what it feels like to be a "freak".

​Exactly! Everyone at the school is a "freak" like him. And he and Stan aren't the only ones whose power manifested rather obviously in public, resulting in them being severely ostracized in their hometowns.

Of course, these are still teenagers, and they'll act like teenagers. So there's still bullying and cliques, and Ford is far from one of the "popular kids". But there's comfort in knowing that he's near the bottom of the social ladder not because of his polydactyly, but because he's a fucking nerd.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Your gravity falls fanfics are so good!! :0 if you’re still taking requests could I request a one shot where Stan’s s/o is with him during the fight between him and ford and they get sucked into the portal instead of ford? I love your angst so much hehehe

Part two is right here

You had originally came with Stanley as support for when he confronts Ford after spending a long period of his life with no contact, no nothing to reassure his twin that he was fine and not dead in a ditch somewhere.

‘The nerve of him, living it up here and not so much as a word to his one brother, his twin no less.’ Stan muttered, his gip tightened on your hand as you both walked up to the lonely shack amidst the snowy forest, but there was something else there besides anger it was nervousness or perhaps worry that his brother didn’t contact him for one reason or another.

‘And here’s your chance to make yourself heard,’ you said as you squeezed his hand, hoping to comfort Stan during this difficult moment for him, ‘you’ve spent enough time to mull over what it is that you want to tell him, now is the time to let him know how much this has affected you and he will have to listen regardless.’

However you’ve came to realise that there was a lot more going on that Ford claims that you and Stanley weren’t aware of as his eyes shifted everywhere out of paranoia. You were still blinking your eyes after getting abruptly blinded by Ford upon first meeting, something about possession? You were certain this wasn’t how you thought you’d be meeting Stan’s twin -not in the slightest- but it was clear to you that Ford was afraid of something, what it was he wouldn’t tell only saying that he needed Stan to hide his journals, scatter them as far from each other which did nothing but annoy Stan.

You could see the clench in his jaw and his fists and were about to reach out and ground him but before you could blink, Stan and Ford were tussling over the journal across the lab as the portal thrummed with power, almost as if entertained by the fight between twins and you were left unable to do anything but watch.

‘Is that all you brought me here for! To help you hide your journals?! I bet I didn’t cross your mind not even once!’ Stanley shouted as he kept the journal close to his chest with his lighter as he managed to keep Ford where he wanted him.

‘You don’t understand Stanley! This is dangerous things you are holding in your hands!’ Ford replied, eyes firmly locked onto the journal and the flickering flame of his brother’s lighter that got too close to the journal’s pages for his liking. ‘Think about the potential threats-‘

‘Fuck that! I want my brother back!’ Stanley cuts his brother off as he grew frustrated at how his brother was - once again- not listening to him or what he had to say. ‘You could’ve called upon me any time! But you only call upon me when you want someone else to do your dirty work for you! What about what I want! My life is in ruins because of you!’ Ford lunged towards Stan and managed to knock the lighter out of his hand, grasping at the bottom half of the journal while Stanley tightened his grip on the upper half of the journal.

‘You ruined your own life and you’ll ruin y/n’s with the way that you are going!’ Ford retorts in a strained voice as he and Stanley tugged the journal in two different ways, just for Stanley to loose his grip, fall backwards and hurt himself on a hot surface that caused him to scream in pain. ‘Stanley!’ You and Ford yelled as you both went to rush to Stan’s aid, hoping he wasn’t too hurt, only for him to Punch Ford in the face and as Ford stumbled backwards he bumped into you. which then caused you to fall back into a lever of sorts; before soon finding yourself beginning to float and be drawn towards the portal with nothing to grab onto to prevent it from happening.

Freaking out you yelled, ‘STANLEY! HELP ME!’ You screamed as you found yourself getting closer and closer to the entrance of the portal, helplessly flailing out of pure panic and need to get away from it, not realising that your attempts to get away were fruitless. Your screams had dragged Ford and Stan from their fight as they could only watch in horror as half of your body was already in the portal.

‘Y/n! Baby! HOLD ON! JUST HOLD ON BABY IM COMING!’ Stanley yelled back as he frantically looked for anything he could use to rope you back to the ground, but grew frustrated when he couldn’t find not a single piece of rope or metal rod lying about, the lab was clean of any and all obstruction. ‘FORD HELP ME!’ He cried as he looked back at his twin, who was frantically looking himself for anything to get you away from the portal, just to face the same problem that frustrated Stanley. ‘I’m trying!’ He shouted over his shoulder as his guilt for bringing both you and Stan here began to weigh down on him heavily.

‘Well you’re not looking hard enough!’ Stanley barked as the fear of losing you was slowly crushing his chest, making it harder for him to breath as his mind raced with the thought of having to live a life without you, his anchor, his best friend and his beloved partner. He hated it, he didn’t want to envision it but here he was living the nightmare he swore would never come true, feeling helpless and useless as he was forced to hear your frightened sounds and not be able to do anything about it.

He didn’t even get to say the words ‘I love you’ yet as he was scared that you’d find someone better then him before he even mustered up the courage, but you never did. You stayed by his side, even if it mean moving from state to state almost every week because of him and Stanley knew he didn’t deserve you, but that didn’t necessarily mean he wanted to loose you from his life either.

Stan and Ford tired their hardest but it wasn’t enough as by the time they looked back at you, your outstretched hand was the last thing the pair saw as the portal closed, leaving them to stare at the portal in denial of their failure to rescue you. ‘Baby?’ Sanely said as he stepped forward hesitantly. ‘BABY! THIS ISNT FUNNY! COME OUT PLEASE!’ He cried louder now when the realisation began to set for him as he ran towards the lever, pulling it and pushing it in desperation of re-opening the portal in hopes of seeing you rush out and right into his arms; where he would keep you for as long as you’d allow him to.

Only for neither of those things to happen, the portal remained shut and you remained lost to whatever was on the opposite side, scared, confused and alone.

‘WHY ISNT IT WORKING!’ Stan screamed as he pushed and pulled, pushed and pulled the lever so much that Ford had to physically drag him away from it before he broke it, thus making more work for them in getting you back. ‘Stop Stanley, it’s not working!’ Ford said as he managed to stand between his twin and the lever, ‘the portal is out of power, it won’t open up unless we get the necessary materials to open it again.’

‘Then what are we doing! Let’s go get it!’ Stanley said as he was about to leave the lab but was stoped by Ford’s hand on his arm, which he shrugged off violently. ‘It’s not so easily obtained Stanley,’ Ford said as he let his hand drop to his side as Stanley glared at him, ‘we need money to get the parts needed to power the portal up. I only had enough to open it once and that took a lot of time, even with Fiddleford’s help, and without him or the necessary materials…’ Ford trailed off which didn’t help Stanley’s mood as he grew angrier at his brother’s insinuation.

‘They’re trapped on the other side forever?!’ He yelled. ‘Bullshit! I don’t believe that! I want them back now!’ Stanley then grabs Ford by the collar and brings him so that they were eye to eye. ‘Give them back or I swear to fucking god Stanford-‘

‘I can’t bring them back without the necessary materials Stanley I told you.’ Ford reaffirmed as he started at his heartbroken twin as the first signs of tears left his eyes, Ford felt Stan’s grip loosened on him until they went completely slack at his side as he fell to his knees, chin dropping to his chest as he silently wept. ‘Bring them back.’ Stanley chanted softly, ‘being them back to me, I can’t loose them. You don’t understand. They’re everything to me and now I’m nothing without them.’ Stanley whispered to the air as if someone with the power to grant his wish will hear him, but instead elected to ignore him and his pleads.

Ford, heartbroken at seeing how distraught and lifeless his brother had became, slowly knelt in front of him in silence, not knowing how to comfort him correctly as he felt himself to blame for your disappearance into the portal. He had taken away the one person who cared for Stanley in the times where his family couldn’t be bothered, someone who loved him unconditionally regardless of what he did and Ford had taken you away from him seemingly forever, so he wouldn’t be surprised if Stanley would hold a grudge against him for it.

However one thing was for certain, he’d help his brother get you back however he could, no matter how long it would take them, even if it took them thirty years to do so; it was a risk that Ford originally wasn’t willing to take but if it meant getting you back to Stanley then he’d do anything to see his brother happy again.

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

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Bottom Row:

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These iconic muscle cars represent a golden era of American automotive performance and style, offering a combination of power, speed, and distinctive design that continues to captivate enthusiasts today.

[ckret2]

Chapter 55 of human Bill Cipher finally having a little fun for the first time in over a month of captivity in the Mystery Shack:

Bill does his level best to teach Mabel everything he knows about everything as fast as possible (while Ford eavesdrops). In the process, he finally reveals something about his home dimension!

But not everything about his dimension.

"Did you have rainbows in Flatworld?" Mabel had started drawing her shapesona again at the bottom of a fresh piece of paper. The heart was holding out one hand with several strips of glue shooting in a beam out from the palm; Mabel started shaking glitter onto the glue strips to make them rainbow.

"Not natural ones."

"Awww!"

"We could make them with flashlights and prisms, though."

"That's something." Still, it wasn't as cool as a real rainbow. She started carefully drawing Bill floating above her shapesona. (She probably should have drawn him before she put down glitter. She had to push up her sleeve and lift her wrist to avoid smearing the glue.) "When's the first time you saw a real rainbow?"

Bill didn't answer.

Mabel glanced at him. He had a hard look in his eyes. "Bill?"

####

For the first time in his life, the triangle was up—up but not north—in space, in the third dimension, looking down but not south at the plane where he'd spent his entire existence. It shuddered and rippled and cracked, contracting, as the entire universe crunched together around him.

Great walls of pale blue flame half a googol light years wide erupted into third dimensional space, where stars were caught and crushed between the quickly collapsing cosmic tectonic plates. He hadn't known his flat universe had stars of its own.

His home world shattered and crumbled, shrapnel and rubble spraying out, stone instantly pulverized into dust. Distant oceans rode the waves of the convulsing universe, flinging billions of gallons of water into space in a fine thin spray, glittering in the sunlight.

As the triangle watched, a great flickering rainbow ring formed in front of the ejected ocean, like the hollow eye of a hostile god staring at him in judgment.

He stared back.

And he felt himself fill with more and more and more power.

####

"Bill?"

"Sorry, I was trying to remember!" Bill sat back, laced his hands behind his head, and shrugged, "It's not coming to me. But I'm sure it was after I took charge of Dimension Zero. From time to time planets with weather systems would fall in through a wormhole, I must've seen a rainbow on one of them!"

"Oh." The answer disappointed her, but she couldn't quite put her finger on why. She puzzled over it as she drew a fireball shape around Bill's hands in glue and shook on pale blue glitter.

Bill nodded at the page, "So what are we up to?"

"Fighting evil! With rainbow lasers and... whatever that magic fire thing you do is!"

"Hey, superheroes! Sounds fun. Who are we killing?"

"Superheroes don't kill people!"

"Fine. Who are we sending to the hospital with third degree burns?"

"I don't know, I haven't made up a villain yet." She almost asked Bill what kind of monsters existed in his world; but the question died in her throat. That might be too depressing a question. She added a heart-shaped glue outline around her shapesona and shook on a glitter rainbow, and set the picture aside to dry. She grabbed a fresh paper and tried to imagine what a two-dimensional butterfly would look like. Would it just have flat little stick wings since that was more aerodynamic? That sounded boring. She started drawing a two-dimensional squid instead.

Bill studied Mabel's latest finished work—the glitter-outlined heart, the glitter rainbow laser, the glitter fire, and the plain him. After a moment, he casually mentioned, "I used to wear body glitter."

She blinked at him. "What?"

"Earlier you asked me about glitter in my dimension," Bill said. "Body paint was makeup to us. I wore it when I went dancing."

"WHAT!"

"And I'd cut open glow sticks to paint my arms and legs!"

"What color glitter did you wear?!"

"Usually gold."

"What?! Bill!" Mabel laughed. "You're already yellow!"

"But I didn't glitter. That's important!"

"You're boring."

"Shut up! I was gorgeous and I knew it! Why mess with perfection?!" He gestured down at himself, perfection, as though he'd momentarily forgotten what body he was in. "Listen, club fashion gets repetitive. If you've seen one equilateral in cutesy primary color gradients, you've see 'em all. There's beauty in simplicity—not a lot of shapes can pull off a solid color with a little light highlighting and still look flashy!" He'd sat up straighter, chest puffed out proudly, as he talked about how pretty he thought he'd been. "Buuut sure, sometimes I highlighted my points for fun. And to keep from stabbing people—it's hard for other people to judge distances with strobe lights on."

"What colors."

"Usually red, blue, or purple. You know—nice contrasts with gold."

Mabel grabbed another paper and started drawing Bill dancing. He leaned closer, elbows on the table, watching with more interest now. Mabel asked, "You had clubs with strobe lights?"

"Of course we did, we aren't barbarians." Bill picked up yellow and black markers out of Mabel's supplies, leaned over to her drawing in progress, and started adding a decorative border around the nearest edge of the paper in dots and dashes.

"What kind of music did you listen to?"

"It was... It's closest to the music in— You've never been to that dimension. Well, it kind of sounds like... I'll never hit those notes with human vocal cords." He drummed his fingers on the table. "Hold on. Let me get Questiony's piano."

####

It turned out that Flatworld club music sounded kind of like a broken tornado siren.

"It doesn't sound very good on a human piano," Bill said, giving the electric piano balanced on his knees a disapproving look. "The intervals between notes are tuned wrong, it's about four octaves short, and it's missing that tympanic membrane shredding tremolo when the treble jumps."

Mabel regarded the piano with some dismay. "Do you know how to play anything else?"

Bill sighed.

He played "Don't Start Un-Believing" for her. He even did that cool thing where you drag a finger up half the keyboard at once.

####

By now, Bill seemed a lot happier to answer Mabel's questions about his world; but she quickly worked out which ones he'd actually give a direct answer. He was the most free with science-y questions, hit or miss on the fun cultural questions, and instantly evasive when asked about his own life or uncomfortable political issues.

When she asked if shapes and their houses just kinda floated unattached to anything because they didn't have a home planet, Bill said they did have a home planet—hundreds of miles below, marking south by its gravitational pull—and they lived in the sky in between their planet and its rings. When she asked what kind of clothing they wore, Bill said they usually didn't wear anything, unless it was for practical purposes (gloves for gardening; goggles for chemistry; elbow-, knee-, and corner-pads for spelunking), and when she asked about his top hat he said slyly, "You mean my telescope?" and gleefully refused to explain further.

But when she asked if it was true that equilateral triangles were the lowest rung you could stand on before getting knocked off the social ladder altogether, Bill said that was a pretty rude question to ask a triangle. And then he said his world didn't have ladders.

When he casually let slip that he'd been able to see the third dimension when nobody else could, she asked how that was possible. He'd paused, looked up from his seventh completely incomprehensible drawing of an animal (she'd asked him whether Flatworlders had pets), and, with an eager gleam in his eye, he asked, "How much time do you have?"

####

Ford heard Bill's voice the moment he opened the door—"All right, star girl, pop quiz, let's see how much of that you kept in your noggin."

"Oh, I'm so ready!"

Baffled, Ford leaned in the living room doorway. The room was absolutely plastered in crayon-covered papers—illustrations, lists, mathematical and scientific diagrams—stars, cells, planets, vehicles. At the moment Bill was pointing at six papers taped together with a diagram on them that Ford thought was a Punnett square that had been expanded into a four-dimensional tessaract. "A polygon's sides are determined by...?"

"Genetic inheritance!" Mabel announced, the proud student who knew all the answers. "You have however many sides your parents have genes for!"

"And the idea that polygons increase by one side each generation...?"

"Is propaganda! Because if everybody hides their kids without enough sides, and they only talk about the kids that did go up a side, it makes everyone think that's what always happens and their family is the only one that's failing!"

"Perfect! And the highest natural amount of sides a shape can have?"

"Twelve! Decadoggins!"

"Close enough, dodecagons! But this isn't Greek class, I'll give you full points. So, any shapes with more sides than that got them through—?"

"Random mutation!"

"Correctamundo! Meaning the only way to get shapes with hundreds of sides is..."

"Crazy bonkers inbreeding! Because the same rich families just keep marrying each other!"

"With consequences including—?"

"Um..." Mabel puffed out her cheeks as she thought. "Skeletons getting all crackly, having a hard time making babies, and high—uh—infant morality!"

"Mortality."

"Lots of dead babies."

"Yes! And remember: when a mutation makes a body produce so much more of something than it needs that it starts harming the body, that's called...?"

"Cancer!"

"Meaning circles are...?"

"Tumors!"

"And what do we do with tumors?"

"EXECUTE THEM!"

"YES!" Bill ripped the Punnett tesseract off the wall. Behind it was a piece of paper that read, in blood red crayon, ANTI-MONARCHIST ANARCISM. "You're ready to man the guillotines! A+, star girl! Give yourself another sticker!"

"Yes!" Mabel peeled a sparkly purple star off a sticker sheet and stuck it on her cheek. Her face had over twenty star stickers.

Ford leaned against the living room doorframe, watching the scene inside with wonder. He was more than a little iffy about the political lesson—he, personally, was incredibly opposed to the idea that it was morally imperative to execute anybody with extra body parts, nobility or not—but the presentation of it was certainly captivating. It had been a long time since Ford had seen Bill like this. (It had been a long time since Ford would have trusted any lesson out of Bill's mouth.)

"Now let's get back to biangles." Bill picked up a fake crystal ball that he'd drawn various lines and shapes on with a marker.

"Awww, again?!"

"Hey. Listen," he said firmly. "I believe in you. You'll get it this time, I know it."

Ford looked around the room, taking in the scene more fully. The floor was scattered with drawings of aliens. A few of them were various polygons—regular and irregular, with the irregularities further broken down by whether they otherwise showed radial or lateral symmetry—each with thin limbs and an eye on a corner. Most were fantastical alien animals, a few that Ford had seen or been warned about on other worlds. Some had been scribbled out and redrawn when Bill's limited artistic capabilities didn't live up to his unknown standards; a few were in Mabel's art style, meaning Bill must have described them to her while she drew.

Twenty pieces of paper had been taped together on the wall behind the TV, with a drawing of a planet surrounded by a circular ring of small blobs—a planetary ring?—and a moon further out. The empty atmosphere between the planet and the ring was filled with squares and rectangles, which were grouped together in red blobby circles that were each labeled by letter: "Country △," "Country B," "Country C," "Country D (communists)," etc. A badly-drawn sea serpent slithered along the outside of the ring with the words "Here There Be Monsters" written over it.

A tall column of taped together papers was covered in examples of alien writing systems—some of them Ford recognized from his travels through other dimensions. From the ones he understood, it looked like the words were demonstrations of Mabel's name in dozens of alien writing systems. Sometimes Bill spelled her name Maybell or Mabelle.

And there were so many papers scattered around the room with little graphs and symbols and arrows Ford couldn't make sense of. And in the center of it all, Bill, alive, energetic, his full attention enthusiastically focused on his student.

Bill had to be up to something; but Ford couldn't imagine what, based on the bizarre assemblage of information in front of him. What nefarious purpose could be behind showing Mabel how to spell her name in alien languages? Unless his goal was to so enchant her with tales of other worlds that he could persuade her to help him open a new portal...? No, even for Bill that felt like a stretch. 

He looked at the wall again. Surely, that wasn't Bill's homeworld. Ford had spent years of his life trying to find the world Bill was from; surely Bill hadn't just drawn it in the middle of Ford's living room. Had he?

"Okay, let's start with spherical geometry from the top," Bill said, polishing the crystal ball on his leggings to rub off the marker lines. "Don't tell anyone I can do this." He held up the ball, tapped it twice on the bottom, and it hovered in place when he let it go, freeing up both his hands to hold a ruler and marker. (How long had he been able to do that? Had he even noticed Ford was standing right outside?) He drew a line across the surface of the ball, "Pretend it's a planet. If you draw a line on a sphere, it's obviously curved, right?"

"Right," Mabel said.

"But now pretend you're on the planet. The surface of the world is a flat plane to you. From your perspective, you can walk in a straight line from point A to point B."

"But it's actually a curve. From space."

"Now you're catching on. That's what makes spherical geometry a little weird: when you're on the sphere you treat everything around you like it's 2D even though when you're off the sphere you can see it's 3D." Why in the world was Bill teaching Mabel about spherical geometry?

Bill drew two more lines to connect to the first. "So! You can draw a triangle on a sphere, no problem, right?"

"Right."

"And something you can only do in spherical geometry... is... pretend this is the North Pole and the South Pole..." Bill carefully rotated the ball under his marker as he drew a straight line from one "pole" to the other, and then drew a second straight line from pole to pole next to it. "Ta-da! If a tri-angle has three angles, a bi-angle has two angles. You've got yourself a two-sided polygon. Right?"

Mabel hesitated. "Right."

"You with me so far, Shooting Star?"

"So far," she said, with a tone that suggested she expected that to change very soon.

"But if you try to transfer that shape from spherical geometry to Euclidean geometry—" Bill turned to an expanse of still partially-uncovered white papers taped to the wall like a makeshift whiteboard, drew two points, and drew two straight lines, red and blue, between the points, "—it just doesn't work. You can't see a biangle in a flat world."

And now Mabel was squinting suspiciously at him.

Bill said, "I lost you."

"But where does it go!"

Bill shrugged. "You lost it when you lost the third dimension."

"But you said when you're on the sphere it's two dimensional!"

"From your perspective it's two dimensional, but there's still a third dimension enabling the sphere to exist."

"Then from my perspective when I'm on the planet shouldn't a biangle look like that?" Mabel pointed at the two straight lines on the piece of paper. "Since everything looks all 2D to me? But it doesn't! It's like flying from the North Pole to the South Pole through America and then flying back through China! China and America don't just squish together into the same place just because you're going in a straight line on a sphere!"

"I'd kill to hear you give a geography lesson to a Flat Earther convention."

Mabel gave him her best angry scowl.

"It was a compliment! I think you'd inspire some hilarious arguments, that's all!" Bill put two dots on the paper and offered Mabel the marker. "Look, try it for yourself! Draw a biangle."

Mabel took the marker and, after a moment of thought, drew two curved lines between the points, making a football shape.

"Those aren't straight lines, kid."

"Argh!" Mabel pulled the paper off the wallpaper, bent it into a curve, and shakily drew a straight line between the two points; but no matter how else she twisted or bent the paper, she couldn't find a path that would let her draw a second straight line between the points without overlapping the first line she'd drawn. She crumpled the paper, tossed it on the floor, and whispered, "It's witchcraft, Bill."

He burst out laughing. "I could name a few horror writers that felt the same way about non-Euclidean geometry."

"But whyyy does the biangle disappear when it goes from a sphere to normal flat paper."

"Because..." Bill groped for an explanation he hadn't already tried. He crossed an arm across his chest and tapped a knuckle just under the bow tied in his hoodie's draw strings the way some humans might tap a hand to their chin, his eyes narrowed in thought. How many times had Ford seen him make that exact same face in his true triangular form, whenever Ford was struggling to understand a lesson on portal physics and Bill was struggling to find a way to translate it into concepts Ford had encountered in his human education? "Let's try this another way."

The scene made Ford ache.

Look past the paper and the crayons, and the graph- and figure- and writing-covered walls looked so much like the advanced physics lessons and blueprints that Bill had coated Ford's starry blue dreamscape in during his sleep. Look past the flesh and bone, and Bill moved and gestured and spoke the way he had when he was teaching Ford how to build a bridge between worlds.

It was the first time since Bill's death that Ford had seen 100% of his personality shining—unhindered by grief, secrets, or a disdainful human audience. It was the first time in decades that Ford had seen Bill at his best.

In that moment, for a split second, Ford forgot how to hate Bill. He couldn't see Bill the traitor, Bill the invader, Bill the homicidal party animal. The only person in that room with Mabel was Bill Cipher the Teacher, Mentor, and Muse that Ford used to know so long ago. Like an ancient god who'd chosen to spend a day roleplaying as a giddy professor—Bill was holding back a tsunami's worth of vast, ancient, unintelligible alien knowledge so that he could drip out revelations at a faucet's pace, slow enough for his student to catch each drop in her hands.

Over thirty years ago, there had been moments when this Bill peeked out behind the above-it-all façade—and that had been the Bill that Ford was happiest to see, the Bill that Ford had thought of as a friend rather than a mere teacher... but each time, it hadn't been long before Bill seemly caught himself and turned off the faucet for the night.

Because he couldn't let Ford learn too much, or he would have seen through Bill's ruse.

Hatred tiredly crept back in.

"I've got it!" Mabel triumphantly flung her hands in the air. "It's like orange slices!"

"Orange slices?" Bill repeated.

"Be right back!" Mabel zoomed to the kitchen, shouting, "Hi Grunkle Ford!" as she passed.

Ford watched her go, then looked back at Bill; Bill had glanced at him for the first time. But all he did was frown and mutter, "I don't remember inviting you to audit this course."

Before Ford could decide whether to retort, Mabel charged back into the living room with an orange and a sharp knife. "Okay! If you draw a triangle on the orange," Mabel said, doing so with a marker, before cutting into it with the knife, "and then you—you cut it out all the way to the center..."

"Be careful with that," Ford said. Mabel was holding the orange in one palm and stabbing into it from the opposite side.

Bill said, "Lay off, Six Fingers. I'm keeping my eye on her, she's not gonna hurt herself."

"I'm being careful!" Mabel was struggling to get an even wedge cut all the way to the center of the orange; she eventually gave up and  dug into the orange with her fingertips to tug out a messy mangled handful of fruit, attached to a roughly equilateral patch of orange peel about two inches to each side. She shook orange juice off her fingers. "Pretend I cut that out better."

"I dunno what you're talking about," Bill said. "It looks flawless."

She pointed at each corner of the peel triangle. "Okay so, these are the three corners of the spherical triangle, right?"

"Right."

"And if you want to make a regular flat triangle, you can... try to cut a straight line between the corners, like..." She squeezed the rest of the orange between her knees, held the edges of the triangular peel with her fingertips, and sawed off the orange pulp underneath, trying to cut a flat level plane as near to the triangle's corners as she could. Ford almost warned Mabel about the knife again, but glanced at Bill's face and his expression of unworried, keen curiosity, and kept quiet. Bill reached out and caught the sawed-off chunk of orange pulp before it hit the ground.

Mabel held out the peel slice. "There! Right? Spherical triangle on top and flat triangle on the bottom!"

Bill considered that, one hand on his hip. He popped the orange chunk in his mouth. "All right. So far so good."

"But if you make a biangle..." Mabel drew two lines between the top and bottom of the remaining orange, and cut a wedge free. "There isn't anything extra to cut off to let you make a flat shape. There's just a straight line between the two points!"

"Ha! Okay, all right, that works! Brilliant! What do you need me for? You just taught yourself the whole lesson!" Bill ruffled her hair so enthusiastically that he knocked her headband askew.

She shoved him away, laughing, and straightened out her headband. "Bill!"

"What did I say! Didn't I tell you you'd get it?" Bill was beaming at her, impressed, delighted, proud. "Congratulations, you've just mastered college-level geometry."

"Wh—What? Are you serious? This is college stuff?" She shook her head. "No way, you're lying."

Bill pointed at Ford without looking at him. "Tell her."

He felt a little like a dog being commanded to bark; but he said, "He's right. I didn't start studying spherical geometry until my second semester in college." He was sure he could have studied it sooner, if his high school had offered it; and he doubted Mabel had absorbed an entire semester's worth of spherical geometry; but he didn't see any reason to point any of that out when Mabel's face lit up in excitement.

Bill said, "There you have it! Way to go, star girl! Two big stickers."

"YES!" Mabel peeled off two jumbo-sized star stickers with smiley faces and stuck them onto her earrings. "So does that make a biangle a girl or a boy?"

And Ford was immediately lost again.

"No," Bill said.

Mabel sighed loudly and tried again. "Does that make a biangle a line or a polygon?"

"Still no, but for a different reason. Externally, they look like lines to anyone who isn't psychic. Internally, their anatomy usually functions like a polygon's. But socially, you've gotta ask. Some of 'em consider themselves lines, some polygons, some claim biangularity is neither linear nor polygonal. Personally, I say they're whatever they say they are. Because," he said grandly, "I'm just that open-minded and accepting."

Ford stifled a derisive snort. But Bill's self-aggrandizing aside, Ford's mind was reeling trying to keep up—spherical geometry, the (gendered?) socialization of shapes, Flatworlder anatomy—what did psychics have to do with anything? Ford's fingers itched for a pen. He wished he had his journal with him.

Bill grabbed several papers off the floor and the floating crystal ball and climbed on top of the wooden TV cabinet. He left the ball hovering behind him seven feet up in the air, tossed aside several papers he'd already used both sides of to let them flutter back to the floor, and taped the rest to the wall with their blank backsides turned out. "Now back to remote viewing." He drew a grid in blue lines on the papers, said, "Toss me that triangle wedge," used a marker to draw an eye on the triangular orange peel, tapped it twice like he had the crystal ball, and stuck it against the grid, where it sat unmoving.

And the entire time, Ford watched with his arms crossed tightly.

Almost a month ago, Bill had given Ford his manipulative trap of a birthday gift, a miniature grimoire, five pieces of paper, margins filled, two rows of text per line, packed with as diverse an array of magical spells and occult knowledge as Bill could fit. It wasn't a gift, it was a boast and a taunt: look at everything I know that you don't; look at what I could teach you if you let me live. 

It was something Bill could have given him all along—effortlessly, with no cost to himself—but didn't, until Bill wanted something from him. 

On his birthday, Ford had wondered, furiously: when this was what Bill could have been—gift-giver, wish-granter, teacher, guide, friend—why did he choose not to be?! It was an internal scream of rage, the howl of a wounded victim at the condemned criminal as he was marched to the gallows: you monster, you monster, you monster, when it would have been so easy for you to be something better, why instead are you a liar, manipulator, torturer, murderer, life-ruiner, world-ender? Answer for yourself: why are you this instead of someone better? How dare you?

It had made Ford want him dead even more.

This was the exact opposite of the grimoire.

The question in Ford's head wasn't a scream of rage anymore. It was grief. It was a plea. It was one last desperate attempt to understand:

Instead of being who he was, why couldn't Bill have been this person? This charismatic, energetic, ecstatic muse who ruled like a king over a classroom he'd constructed himself, eager to share a trillion years of collected wisdom with a fragile mortal mind, lighting up with joy whenever she grasped something that was trivially simple to him? This guide to the vast wonders beyond Earth, competent and encouraging and funny, delighting in the weirdness of the wide wide universe? The Bill that Ford had once liked so much—the Bill that he'd called his friend?

"Okay," Bill said, all sunshine and excitement, "Back to how to view the third dimension from the second dimension—"

Mabel said, "Can you view the fourth dimension from the third?"

Bill hesitated a split second, but said, "Sure! You can view any dimension from any dimension! You've just gotta bend your eye the right way to see higher ones!"

"What does the fourth dimension look like?"

"Well—hm. Imagine the way that the third dimension looks different from the second, and that's the way the fourth dimension looks different from the third."

Mabel stared at Bill.

"Eddie wrote an entire book about a square meeting a sphere because that was the closest he could get to telling other humans what seeing the fourth dimension is like! If I could still visit dreams, I could just show you, but..."

"Isn't the fourth dimension time? Blendo showed us the time stream! Is that what it looks like?"

"Nnn—close! You're close. The fourth dimension isn't time, but time is in the fourth dimension."

"How's that different."

Bill pointed at the floor. "If the carpet's the second dimension and the lamp's shining on it, the third dimension isn't light, but light is in the third dimension."

"Ohhh." Mabel gasped. "That's why you called some weird thing flying around in a higher dimension an eclipse! Because eclipses were in a higher dimension in Flatworld!"

Bill's face lit up in surprised delight. "All right, skip three lessons ahead, why don't you! In a week's time you'll be teaching people how my dimension works." He turned back to his papers and started drawing a branching river. "So! That time stream you saw isn't time itself! It's a visual metaphor being generated so humans can see time too—sort of a hologram projecting from the fourth dimension into the third—have I explained that the universe is a hologram yet—"

Why weren't you this person, Ford wondered. Why did you choose not to be this person? When it was so easy for you to be this? When this made you happy, too?

Why couldn't you have been this person?

Why are you only like this now, when you're about to die?

####

(Hope y'all enjoyed Infodump: The Chapter. This is one of those chapters with something hidden in it that'll unravel the whole fic if you happen to find it, so have fun searching for that. Let me know what you thought of this week's chapter! And get excited—we've got Big Things coming up... soon.)

[pleasantangelpaper]

Knight In Shining Glasses (Ford Pines x Reader)

Chapter 1: Raspberries, Royalty, and Rock Bottom

Okay so. I love Stanford Pines, but there's not a lot of fanfiction for him, and I think there should be! Anyways, probably won't write smut for this because I want to maintain the gender neutral reader, but I may do oneshots with this vision of Ford.

Also this is probably bad. I'm not an amazing writer. lol. I also had no clue how to start this. Anyways silly little twist ending, but this fic is still for Ford, just wait.

As I came to my senses, I felt the cold hard earth pulling me to the ground, and a strange sensation on my face, almost like something wet was caressing my face... is that a pig "EUGH," I jumped up in fear as the seemingly harmless creature stared into my soul with its beady eyes. "Oh Waddles, there you are, you've almost missed your tea party with- Oh! Hey y/n!" A small girl with a very colorful sweater spoke quickly and excitedly. I immediately recognized her as Mabel Pines, grand niece of Stanford... or well Stanley Pines of the Mystery Shack. I still haven't met the real Stanford I suppose. "Mabelllll are you almost ready for this tea party thing, I want to go play D&D& more D with Grunkle Fo- oh hey y/n" The other mystery twin ran out of the shack, clearly annoyed with the tea party ordeal. "Uh, kids, could you ask an adult in your house if I can come in and use your phone?" I asked, still not remembering how I got to the mystery shack. Maybe if I called a taxi, I could go home and retrace my thoughts. "Oh, the shack's open right now, you can go ask Soos," Dipper stated as he pointed at the sign that said 'Mystery Hack'. I thanked him and Mabel and ran to the door of the shack. How could I have ended up at the mystery shack? Before I could finish my train of thought, I ran into a strong force. "Heh.. gotta look where you're goin kid," the older gentleman said. I recognized him as Stanfo... Stanley Pines. "Sorry Mr. Pines, it's just, can I use your phone?" I begged and hoped the man wouldn't ask for money in return. "Depends... do you want to buy anything..." The man squinted his eyes at me. I reached in my pockets and pulled out all of the cash that I had, 5.76$....oh.... This can't get me a phone call, let alone a cab. I looked at the man in despair as I turned around. As I began walking to town, I started thinking of how I got here. It all started when I left Greasy's diner. I was holding some leftover raspberry pie that my friend Lazy Susan had given me. Walking towards my house, I remember feeling watched. The feeling grew more and more intense, until I turned around and realized I was being followed.... by GNOMES??? "Hello ma'am, I'm Jeff, and on behalf of all gnomekind, I'm gonna have to ask you to hand over that pie," the little man stared so intensely, I didn't feel like fighting, so I handed him the box of pie. He opened the box, inspecting it. "This is heavenly, how would you feel about becoming gnome royalty... is that look of fear on your face a yes... I feel like I'm getting a yes," With the shock on my face apparent, I screamed and ran the opposite direction. "Get them!! Soon we will have our spouse!" "SCHMEBULOCK!" "WHAT HE SAID" The gnomes all yelled out different things as I ran for the hills. I prayed that gnomes wouldn't be able to hurt me, but I also knew there were powers in numbers, so I continued to run until I got to a clearing in the woods. Exhausted, I sat down on a stump to catch my breath, but when I looked up, I knew I should have kept running. A giant mass of gnomes towered over me with Jeff as their leader. I took what I thought would be my last breath as I prepared to succumb to the darkness, "Stay back gnomes! What have I told you about harassing random people to be your monarch," A masculine voice sounded through the woods. I was in such a state of shock I passed out, but before I did, I saw a glimpse of the man that saved me, gray hair, glasses, and a familiar face... Stan?

[sheenashifts1217]

Pick a Pile No.1

Welcome to my first Pick a Pile :)

This is a collective reading so it may resonate more for some than others. Take what helps you and leave what doesn’t. 💗

If you’d like a personal reading, I currently have a deal in my shop for a free five song channeled playlist with any purchase of an s/o reading. Check my pinned post for more details.😊

What Advice Will Aid Your Shifting Journey

Choose pile 1, 2, or 3

Take a breath and simply pick the one you feel most drawn to.

(Top left pile 1, top right pile 2, bottom pile 3)

Pile 1

Lyrics standing out:

“You b**** ain’t like me

Dance in the breeze

A man with the sleaze

Stop it, get another topic

I got the nerve

And I block it

You’re a brat

Cause I never repeat

Do what I say like Simon

I’m a VIP

Sorry I’m pretty and easy to hate”

Okay pile 1, I SEE YOU GUYS!!! 💅🏼 This pile is short and sweet because you all know what you need, self aware queens. You all know your power, and as you should. For those of you in this pile who really know your power, own it more, step into it, actually practice it.

It feels like you all know what you need to do and you know you can shift, you’re just being lazy. PUT THE WORK IN. But frl, it seems like you guys really just need to set some time aside to focus on shifting and your DR because you know what to do, you just feel too busy. It’s okay to take a breath. Some of you all in this pile may also be rushing yourself. Allow yourself to accept what your experiencing and just let it flow. It’s already yours, you already have all of your desires.

Overall, pile 1, you guys are baddies whether you know it or not. Step into that power, own it, and use it. Make time for yourself and slow down a little. You don’t have to experience everything at the same time, that’s why you have a life, spend it.

Confirmation: 222, 444, Aquarius, ford mustang, hot pink, purple number 4, Elmo?, Sesame Street, Disney, neon green nails

Pile 2

Lyrics standing out:

“Trying to cover up my face

Try and stay calm

Something missing

I think looks wrong

When pretty isn’t pretty enough

What do you do?

I could change up my body and change up my face

You can win the battle

Insecure

Try to ignore it

I don’t know why I even try (I see the starfish position)

Just feel like sh*** over and over again”

Hi pile 2! You guys are giving me 2020 shiftok vibes. A lot of you probably started to practice shifting around 2019/2020 and were fed a lot of misinformation and now you feel like that is stopping you, but it doesn’t have to, let that go. You are in charge of your own reality so take that misinformation and use it as a learning experience. Don’t be discouraged because it was false or didn’t work for you, that’s good because now you’re one step closer to knowing yourself and what does work for you!

You may be a person that is on social media a lot in general or just hyperaware of others lives and you’re comparing yourself to them. STOP IT. Everyone’s experience is their own. When you see someone else’s success or experience, you don’t know what went down before that. Focus on yourself and what is meant for you, will happen. Accept it and take charge of it. You may be one who relies on others success for your own motivation as well, this is your sign to rely on yourself. Connect with your higher self and trust your intuition.

Keep going pile 2! You guys have put in time and energy this far, what’s a little longer? Your efforts are not in vain. You’ve got this. Trust yourself!

Confirmation: tiktok, iPhone, 13, dodge, dodgers, football, Dallas cowboy cheerleaders, red white & blue, Olympics, gymnastics, toe nails, 12

Pile 3

Lyrics standing out:

“Light headed

For some reason I find myself lost in what you think of me

And too confused who I should be

In a big old world

We’re so alike

When I cross that line

It’s been a point of contention between myself and this body they stuck me in

Am I pretty enough to lie to you

Let me be the void you fill

I am quantum physics

My witness brings me to existence

So I can be your girlfriend boyfriend”

Hello my lovely pile 3! You all feel trapped either in your bodies or just to this reality in general. You have put shifting to your DR on a pedestal or even a part of you doesn’t want to accept that it’s real because you may not feel worthy. Remind yourself that you are constant, flowing energy.

Some of you have been so focused on “finding yourself”, that instead you have used the 3D to define who you are in the 4D. Make the two align.

Try to focus more on the “what” of shifting, instead of the “how”. Feel those connections and emotions you have in your DR. Maybe focus on one in particular that is important to you. Focus on one DR at a time. You have overwhelmed yourself with the thoughts of wanting to shift and being everywhere at once. Take your time and enjoy your CR as well. Shifting is an act and a journey, it’s real life, so make sure you’re still taking care of yourself.

In summary, you are more than your body. You are your thoughts and emotions and your actions, your love and energy you spread. Own that energy and use it for your benefit. Focus on who you are and what it is you want. Try to have a clear idea of that, then connect to it. Once you feel that connection, that’s it. Congratulations it’s now yours. Forget the 3D and just know it’s already yours.

Confirmation: red, Taylor Swift, (Taylor’s version), reputation, Niall Horan, train, Liam Payn, 2222, lock and key, hearts, stars, moon, “go piss girl”, dress to impress

[aurrsky]

The people need to let Stan wear pretty lacy underwear and fucked by Ford dammit!!!

OoOoo! YES, this is beautiful.🫶 You're so right – and it's unhealthy how much I've imagined this today!

How do we feel about power bottom, bossy 30!Stan in lacy, pastel pink underwear teasing 60!Ford (but then it kinda backfires), with Ford rimming him? Thumbs up, thumbs down? (in Soos' voice) Can you see my vision...? Should I write about my vision? Actually – I've written over 1,000 words about this, LMAO. Please enjoy!

–––

Stan’s legs were spread on the side of the bed, watching Ford who stood with his hands clenched in frustration, could hear him cursing underneath his breath as the tips of his ears turned a shade redder. Heavy tension gathered in the air, Stan could almost smell the lust floating above them.

He knew that Ford wanted to pounce on him the second he set his eyes on his crotch, covered in a lacy, pastel pink underwear with a little pretty bow at the front, above where his cock was. Stan was hard already – swelling, aching to have a large, six-fingered hand enveloping it.

Stan wore nothing but panties and his white t-shirt when he went down to the basement earlier, it was to lure out his brother, and get his revenge for the shit he pulled last night – Ford didn’t shoved his cock in him, only fucked him with his fingers even when he’d begged and moaned like a slut for him to fuck Stan right, but Ford merely smirked and hushed him with a fierce kiss.

If his brother wanted to tease him all night long, so could he.

Ford stopped whatever nerdy thing he was working on when he saw him, eyes widening slightly as he took in his figure. His glasses were askew when he shot up from his seat, but before he could dashed toward him, Stan turned around and pushed the elevator button close.

He smirked at the memories. Stan lifted his right leg and pressed his foot toward Ford’s sternum. Instantly, his brother knew his scheme once their eyes connected.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Stanley.” His expression twisted into a disapproving frown.

Stan raised one of his brows, shifting to get comfortable. “Yeah? Well someone should’ve put his dick in me last night.”

Ford’s eyes narrowed before he let out a small, amused chuckle. “So cock hungry, aren’t you? Couldn’t handle a single night without something filling you up?”

Stan ignored his questions, and then, an idea popped in his head. He restrained a devilish smirk. Stan looked at Ford from underneath his lashes, slowly, as gentle as possible, his foot caressed down Ford’s firm body. He heard a sharp intake of breath as it stopped on his half chub, wiggling his toes there before he pressed down on it, just enough for Ford to feel a satisfying pressure.

A tiny gasp escaped Ford, he groaned out, “Stanley –”

“ – You wanna get a piece of my ass, old man? This big guy’s eager, huh?” His foot made a circular motion, he felt it hardening, smirking as it finally stood stiff and proud. Stan licked his lower lip, his heartbeat picking up pace, breath turning heavier.

“Get on your knees and kiss my legs – no hands.”

Ford’s face was flushed, with reluctance, and a subtle growl of, “You’ll pay for this.” Ford lowered himself until his knees touched the carpet, hands crossed behind him. Stan felt a shiver run down his spine as Ford’s intense gaze burned into him, his head bowing to place his lips on his shin, the soft noises Ford made as he kissed and nibbled it made heat spread through his cheeks.

Stan hummed, a pleased sigh leaving him. Ford trailed further up, leaving no place untouch from the assault of his lips, switching from one leg to the other. He groaned when Stan pressed harder, but never paused from showering kisses on his thigh. Stan palmed himself through his underwear, letting out a small moan.

“C’mon, put your mouth on me. Don’t remove my panties.”

Ford did it without hesitation, panting as he watched Stan touching himself before he let it go. He gasped as Ford mouthed at his clothed cock, licking and sucking lightly – he could feel his tongue; wet, hot, and perfect.

Fuck. He took back what he said about teasing Ford all night long – he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Touch me – now, give me your fucking hands!”

He yelped as Ford suddenly jumped on him, his back hit the mattress, and Ford got his hands on his t-shirt and literally ripped it off him. Stan’s jaw dropped as he watched the remains fall on the bed.

“Hey! You’re buyin’ me a new one!”

Ford’s lips formed a predatory smirk. “I told you, didn’t I? You’re going to pay for torturing me.”

Ford really meant it.

Stan spent his night moaning like a bitch in heat as Ford ate him out without removing his panties, it was pushed to the side to make room for his tongue. He held both his wrists in one large hand as his tongue plunged deep into him, grinding into that spot that made him mewled, toes curling – his other hand pushed two lubed fingers in him, preparing him quick, but it was enough for something bigger to fit in already. He played with himself earlier before putting on his panties – and judging by the chuckle Ford let out, he knew he did.

Both his tongue and fingers worked in sync before he removed them, Stan cursing and whining at the loss, and Ford stroked his own cock with lube, he thought that finally Ford would slide home – but no, the head of his cock was teasingly prodding his hole, and Stan knew the old fuck was laughing internally. He cursed, kicking one of his legs out in protest.

“Ford! I swear to fucking –”

“– Say it, Stanley, say that I’ve won this childish game of yours.”

Fuck, his ass was clenching onto nothing, wishing for a huge cock to plow it senseless until he couldn’t fucking walk.

Stan bit his lips, stubborn to admit defeat. When Ford slipped the head in, giving him a pleasant stretch – he gave up.

“You won! You sadistic fuck –”

Stan screamed when Ford shoved his cock all the way inside of him without a warning, letting out a long, low groan.

They were both on edge since this started.

It didn’t take long for them to come, with just a few thrusts, Stan stroking his cock in time with Ford’s movement, he screamed out his brother’s name before spurting out white all over his stomach and chest. Ford thrusted once more and came inside of him, moaning with his eyes shut, Stan clenched onto him hard, milking Ford until he softened.

His brother didn’t took out his cock afterward, but Stan didn’t give a shit, he could stay in him forever. They tiredly make out, a satisfied grin displaying on their faces.

This was a good fucking night.

–––

[miserablebread]

I AM A FIRM BELIEVER THAT STAN IS A POWER BOTTOM! MAKE YOUR TOP (FORD) WHIMPER LIKE A WHORE

[polarisblitzwing]

WELCOME TO THE FRI3NDSFOR3VER AU

Ford's World - Dimension Fri3nds46/’

◇ Alternative Earth Variant ◇

● Humans have wings and feathered tails

● Alternative Pines family decisions timeline

◇ Stanford Pines ◇

● Ford is a minor god of dreams and a self-proclaimed god of anomalies

● 30 years old here (Young Immortal)

● Met Bill when he was 5 due to him attempting an interdimensional dreamwalk link, with Bill trying the same thing by chance, something that wouldn't work at their age without each other

◇ Gods Among Them ◇

● Most gods were mortals whose power was drawn to them like a magnet due to their personality in some way

● Fairly secretive and prefer to hide their works

● Rely on their believers to notice their efforts, resulting in an increase in power

● Can reveal themselves to the public, but building up power from faith alone is more sustainable for less powerful gods

● Stop aging between 25 and 100 (depending on what age someone wants to live forever)

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Bill's World - For3verEuclydia

◇ Alternative Euclydia Variant ◇

● 360 years is the average lifespan of a Euclydian in this au

● No massacre

◇ Bill Cipher ◇

● Bill is a minor god of dreams and a self-proclaimed god of weirdness

● 30 years old here (Young Immortal)

● Met Ford and Stan when he was 5

◇ Gods Among Them ◇

● Only gods have wings and tails as a power symbol

● Their wings and tails are invisible to anyone that doesn't believe in them specifically

● “Omnipotent” Euclydian gods only know everything about their own world. Bill's knowledge of the third dimension is seen as false teachings to even them.

◇ Bill’s Family ◇

● Scalene is a goddess of Truth and Euclid is a god of Reality

● No one believes Bill is a god except his parents, as godhood is a power grant at birth to someone who the power is drawn to here. It can skip generations.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

NOW, ON TO THE ACTUAL DIALOGUE FOR THIS DRAWING! FANFIC TIME ~

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Bill: So here's my problem - I need to show them the stars. It gets real flat to hear “you're delusional, Bill” and “stop talking about a third dimension!” “Shh, you're gonna get arrested!” “It's not real!” Over and over again. It's time to change up the law and their perspectives.

Ford: Hmm.. that'll be quite the endeavor. You might need more power for that.

Bill: Ohh-ho-oh, definitely. Some of my ideas get real difficult along the way. The kind of stuff only a god with twice my power could pull off. 

[ Pulls up a holographic board with his first idea. ] 

Bill: If I could turn their eyes towards the stars and give them the same vision as I do, that'd be ideal. 

[ Ford manifests a danger sign over Bill's board; a buzzer sounds in warning. ]

Ford: Doing that to the entirety of Euclydia could potentially be devastating. Even if you get that newfound power, without centuries of diligent practice, you could end up permanently mutilating thousands of people in the process. Too risky. 

Bill: Uuugh… even if the people I wanted to show the most were immortal too, I don't think I could put up with more of their talk for that long. It has to be this century.

Ford: I get where you're coming from. I’ll do my best to make sure it happens when we figure out a plan that won’t have too many risks involved.

Bill: I could probably have the world dream of stars if you help, but that isn’t real enough to me. It drives me crazy that I can’t see you in real life. 

Ford: We’ll meet one day, I promise it. 

Bill: I sure hope so, Sixer. 

[ Pulls up two more holographic charts. ] 

Now.. back to my list of extremely great ideas.. what if I put really tiny stars in the world and contained the heat? Or flipped the world on the y-axis just to prove a third dimension exists first?

[ Ford manifests two more warnings in succession. ]

Ford: Could easily start a fire if anything went wrong, and for all we know, flipping the world vertically could cause everything to fall bottom to top infinitely until it’s fixed. Also runs the risk of killing a lot of Euclydians. Not to mention there could be other forces in your space that could affect the world.

Bill: Yeesh. Alright then, you got any ideas?

Ford: Actually, come to think of it.. 

[ Ford summons a hologram with a vision of his own forming. ]

Maybe instead of dreams, we tried something just a step up from multi-dimensional dream-walking, something like astral projection. We bring them out of their bodies, but tethered to their world, into space. Without the limitations of their physical forms, their eyes should be able to see more than what they could before.

Bill: SIXER, YOU'RE A GENIUS!!!

Ford: Hah, well, I try.  

Bill: NOW THAT'S SOMETHING I COULD ACTUALLY PULL OFF RISK FREE! It might take splitting up the days people get to see it, but, they’ll finally see.

Ford: Well, hold on, splitting up the days could be risky for the groups who see versus who don’t on the first day, so, here's what I'll do. I'll give you my powers for as long as you need them for this. I would like to help personally, but I’d need to physically be there. This will be my contribution to your paradigm shift for Euclydia.

Bill: ..you really trust me that much? 

Ford: (smiles and nods) Of course. You're my best friend, my muse, the sun in my galaxy, Bill. I want you to be happy.

[ Ford offers his hand and godly powers out to his partner. ]

Bill: (chuckles, smiling) You’re the best, Fordsy.

[ They shake on it. ]

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 13

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here

WARNING: Some suggestive material but nothing graphic.

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CH.13

“...You didn’t go into town and pay the bill a week ago when I told you to, did you?”

“I cannot believe this happened!”

“You ‘cannot’ believe it, really? You couldn’t have ever considered that this would happen?”

“I thought I had more time.”

“Stanford, you haven’t paid the electricity bill in six months! How they ain’t shut off the power sooner-.”

“We have bigger problems, Fiddleford- if the power in the house is out, that means the power in the lab is out. And the forcefield is down. We have a limited amount of time to get it back up before Stanley escapes.”

“Even without the forcefield, he’s still in a cell made of concrete and steel.”

“You’re right; we need to hurry, it won’t hold him for long.”

“Could you hold your horses? A cell should hold him just fine, he’s been to prison three times-.”

“He’s broken out of five of them.”

“...That math doesn’t-.”

“I understand that my brother has changed in the ten years we’ve been apart. But trust me when I tell you he cannot be underestimated.”

“Well, what can we rightly do? Even if you go into town right now and pay off the utilities, it’d take-.”

“I have an emergency generator, but it’s going to take approximately 20 minutes to activate - once he realizes the grid is down, it’ll take less time than that for him to break out of the cell.”

“What do we do, then?”

“I can get it up and running again- do not give me that look, Fiddleford. This is my own programming. I need you to distract him long enough that he doesn’t leave the lab.”

“How in tarnation am I gonna do that?”

“You are a genius Fiddleford- figure it out. I believe in you, you got this.”

*Fiddleford goes back downstairs to the lab. Ford waits for him to be out of earshot before speaking*

“... Stanley likes him, he shouldn’t hurt him too much.”

(...)

"Stan, I know what you’re thinking right now; but you need to stay."

*Fiddleford stops near the bottom of the stairs, Stan is already out of his cell and has taken his brass knuckles from Fords desk*

"Oh, and are you going to stop me? Nothing you do or say is going to keep me down here."

“Uhh- Uhh. What if I-?!”

*Fiddleford unbuttons the first two buttons of his shirt*

"Really, F? You're going to try to honey trap me? That's one of the oldest tricks in the book. I know you're only doing it to buy t-"

*Fiddleford undoes his belt and zipper in a quick movement*

*Stan flicks his eyes down, and then up, and then down slightly longer, and then back up.*

"...a few minutes won’t hurt."

(...)

“Lights- check. Locks - check. Thermostat - check. Everything is in working order, and I haven’t heard anything from downstairs. Nothing should be out of- you are standing right behind me aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Fiddleford’s been impeded?”

“Dunno what the word means but your friend is fine, just zip tied to a chair.”

“And you’re angry?”

“Totally pissed.”

“And you’re here for vengeance?”

“I wouldn't say vengeance… I’d say-.”

*Stan grabs Ford by the back of his collar and  wrenches him back, before grabbing the front of his collar to slam him against a wall and off of the ground*

“Ack-!”

“This is just self-preservation. I told you before, I’m not gonna hold a grudge against you; cause you got issues man. But you made a mistake thinking I was going to take imprisonment lying down.”

“Reconconsi-.”

“I’ll make this quick- I think you’re a nice guy, really. This is the nicest anyone has ever been to me, and wow I realize that's pretty sad now that I've said it. But I’ve been imprisoned enough times, and I don’t need a maniac like you to chase after me.”

“Wait-.”

“I’m sorry about this, I'll make this one hit. Just one hit, and you’ll be knocked out; that’s it, nothing permanent.”

*Stan reels a fist back to punch him in the face*

“Ha ha! Good thing you've got your smarts, Poindexter. I've got the other thing. What is it called? Oh, right, punching!”

“No matter what anyone says, you’re a good kid, Stanley.”

*Stan abruptly stops before his fist can land, shaking slightly*

“St… Stanley?”

“...I’ve hurt people. I‘ve hurt lots of people. Even people who didn’t deserve it. After what you did, I shouldn’t…”

*Ford is gently lowered back onto the ground, and Stan lets his collar go*

“I can’t hurt you. I can’t make myself hurt you. Why can’t I?”

“You know why…”

“I-... I don’t. I’m sorry, but I don’t.”

“Stanley-.”

“I’ll stay.”

“... What?”

“I’ll stay, Stanford. If you’re so convinced I’m your estranged twin and you’ll get even more crazy if I leave, I won’t. I’ll be here and play along with your delusions, however long it takes you to work out your issues.”

“You… You will?”

“Yeah, I will. Just stop keeping me in a damn cell, I’ll sleep on a freaking couch for all I care, just… not in that cell anymore. I’ve served my time already.”

“Of course, of course-. And you will really stay? You are not going to run off into the night when I least expect it?”

“Doc, it’s not like I have anywhere else to go. Besides, eventually you’ll get sick of my BS, and tell me to take a hike.”

“No. Not this time.”

"What was that last thing that you just whispered to yourself?”

“Don't worry about it. Somehow, some way, I promise we will get your memories back.”

“...We should uh, probably go free specs now.”

“Of course-. You didn’t hurt him too badly, did you?”

“Hurt? Like… physically?”

“...Yes?”

“He’s fine. But I owe him an apology… and a cigarette, and a drink.”

(...)

“Oh Fiddleford, I am so glad you’re alright. Let me cut those zip ties for you.”

“...Stanford?”

“Yes?”

“Are you listening to me right now?”

“Yes?”

“Are. You. Listening!?”

“I am listening to you, Fiddleford.”

“If you ever - and I mean ever - so much as imply I’ve never done anything for you, I am going to smack your shit so hard you’ll think the ground flew up and hit you.”

“...”

“Understand?!”

“Y-Yes, yes of course.” 

To be continued…

[bean-the-clown]

Part 2.5 ish

Wanted to post sooner but power is outttttt lol

Previous/1st part (Polaroid is tech 2nd part but shhh) is linked at bottom ◡̈

[eldritchbonedoll]

More sketches for my au idea! General idea is: Bill managed to sucker someone in for a deal two years later and is trying to torment the Pines family, only to find some of his powers didn't make it through the transfer and he has to try to get them back without drawing any suspicion! Made a general idea of Bill possessing someone!

What's written next to the characters from top to bottom, left to right!

Bill: Ford! Fancy seeing you here ;)

Bill to Spencer: That went awesome, your just a hater

Spencer: Sure

Ford: (Doesn't know it's Bill)

Bill: (Trying to sound smart without giving himself away)

After reveal:

Ford: I'm going to kill you

Bill: I'd take that bet!

Before reveal:

Spencer: Bill. You better back off.

Mabel: (In the doorway looking shocked)

Melody: Thank you for the help, Spencer.

Spencer: ...No problem.

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

The First Motorhome!

Remember when things were so much simpler?  The Ford House-Car Q-dog

This is one of only six Ford House-cars said to have been made per year in the mid-30's at the Ford plant in St. Paul, Minnesota, according to an article in a 1993 "Old Car​s​" magazine.

Very few others - perhaps none - remain on the road and certainly not in such amazing original condition!

When discovered in a garage under a heavy cover in northern Minnesota in August of 2001, it had only 19,000 miles on the odometer and the owner's manual was still in the glove box in like-new condition! 

The RV had always been garaged and treated with much 'TLC' as a collector vehicle. 

The all wood lined interior was still the way it appeared in the '30's complete with framed photos of the original owner on his travels, mainly to Florida, and his cabin in the North Woods. It also had other memorabilia from that era.

The Ford House-car was built on a '37 Ford Pickup frame and cowling and was powered by a 60 horse power, flathead V-8 with aluminum heads. The rear framing is all wood, with the metal skin wrapped around it. The roof structure is all wood over which the heavy, waterproofed canvas top is still very securely fitted. The structure of the body is solid, appearing to be all oak hardwood and it's still in a remarkably unaltered, undamaged condition! The door frames are thick, solid oak as are the window frames although those have been painted over. 

This House-car was a big hit at this campground once we got that great old 'flattie' V-8 hummin'! Note the expanding roof (it's that 'extra' roof piece barely visible in the picture) and the original dark green color, which has been repainted. All four side windows open while the back one tilts out in three positions. The windshield also tilts open at the bottom for 'natural' AC while driving. Here are a few shots of the Ford House-car on the road...

Here's a look at the interior.

It's a slice right out of 1930's just as the original owner had it. All the windows have curtains for privacy and there are pull-down shades on the back window, as well as on the driver's and passenger door windows. Note the wide storage cabinet under the bed.

The wood headliner gives the 'cabin' a warm and inviting rustic feel. You can also see it has a ceiling vent and the canvas expanding roof portion visible in this picture. Four wood pieces securely support the expansion when it's in the 'up' position, while clamps secure it when it's down while traveling.

Note the cedar branches hanging in the corners to give the cabin a natural, north woods aroma. Cabinets and the aluminum sink, that includes a wooden cover insert, are visible on the left. All the antiques inside, as well as on the walls, came along for the ride. Also note the collapsible table behind the driver's seat. 

It's amazing how simple vehicles were back then! No computerization to be concerned about!