#look how tiny ford is
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compositecreature · 3 months ago
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some old bill drawings i did 5+ years ago. One of them is a rejected tattoo concept lmaoooo
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shima-draws · 2 months ago
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I'm rewatching GF since the whole world seems to be into it right now (thank you Alex and the Book of Bill) and AGHHH I FORGOR about the body swap episode when the twins find the secret room and Stan picks up Ford's glasses and later we see him sitting on the couch looking at them wistfully...
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Shut up shut UP that's NOT okay
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pepperpixel · 2 months ago
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Initial drawings of that old man… I literally, I haven’t finished reading the book of bill yet!!! I had to stop and take a break for a week to feverishly draw fanart of myself petting fords floofy hair and giving him attention and shit…!!!! The urge was too great….!! I’ve literally. I had a crush on this guy the instant he was first REVEALED in the show, but I did not have the artistic prowess to draw good looking old men back then… but I do now… thank god… thank fucking god
#gravity falls#ford pines#stanford pines#self ship#self insert#si x canon#it me#doodles#I got a haircut! so my hair looks different now.. as haircuts tend to do lol#anyway… yeah… I LOVE HIM… GRAHHFJH#the confirmation that he rlly is just sad and lonely and insecure and craving attention and validation#OHH FORD BBY.. WE R THE SAME#like… ghghg i loved him already just w his prickly nerdy outer shell but knowing more about the vulnerable center is GREAT. ITS AWESOME#also hes a smart nerdy guy who can do science and expirements and shit which is ONE OF MY FAVORITE THINGS FOR A CHARACTER TO DO#u kno im all about scientists….#I couldn’t draw ship art back then 1 cuz I didn’t kno how to draw old men and 2 cuz I was like 13 lol… which would have been wierd#but I’m an ADULT NOW. GET OVER HERE FORD#also it didn’t even rlly cross my mind TO draw that stuff cuz even tho I did love ford#self ship and x reader sorta stuff was not NEARLY as popular back then.. like I specifically remember it like. booming in popularity#at some point. but being pretty rare before that. anyway. thank u passage of time and trends and new gravity falls book for introducing#me back to fictional man I love. so I can now draw myself smooching him and shit#hell yeah.#13 is probably not actually correct I do not remember exactly which year fords reveal was in…#but I was probably older then 13.. but still#the point remains lol.#also omg. the bit in the book w the goth moth. ‘ur probably into this sorta thing right?’#I AM INTO THAT SORTA THING FORD. thank u book of bill for being written specifically @ me. the immersion it’s great.#like ur so right ford I AM edgy and goth how’d u guess that tee hee. eyelash flutter#aLSO PLS IGNORE MY FINGER BEING IN FRAME IN THE LAST PIC. I was drawing in a tiny bound sketchbook#so I had to hold the paper down to keep it flat. and. I didn’t feel like censoring my fucking. pinkie finger out of the image
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flufflecat · 27 days ago
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Don't lose your HEAD, fordsy! *canned laughter*
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godsfavoritescientist · 2 years ago
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*collapses on the floor and starts having visions (new fic ideas)*
#godsrambles#godsficideas#tags essay#the idea is: in his early portal travel days. ford thinks he has discovered a way to quickly and easily confront and kill bill#it sounds almost too good to be true. but he has to try.#the random alien stranger/s who sold him this 'opportunity' for a high price are like 'ok. setting up the death ray now. brb'#'meanwhile a portal to bills dimension will start opening up. its safe youll be fine.'#so ford is sitting in this tiny storage room place with an alleged portal to the nightmare realm slowly opening up before his eyes.#and bill is on the other side of the so-called 'portal.' he can look right back at ford. fords like 'hmm i hate this actually im going'#turns out the door is locked. fords first thought is 'uh oh they sold me out to bill it was all a trick'. but bill is unable to reach him.#it isnt even a portal. its just a glorified interdimensional video call. they locked the door to give them enough time to run off#before ford realized the scam. so bill laughs at him for a min. and then they have a conversation. ford finally asks 'Why??'#'why would you ruin my life??'. and bill kinda. obliges him just this once. drops his cheerful annoying act just this once.#and answers him plainly and honestly 'I didnt. i didnt try to ruin your life. it never even crossed my mind how your life could be affected#'it was all a means to an end. i wasnt ever out to get you. you never factored in at all beyond your use for making the portal.'#'i never even thought about you when we werent interacting. not even once. you think i had some big evil scheme that youre at the center of#'youre insignificant to me. all that happened was: you fell for a scam.'#'will the guys who locked you in here ever think about you again? theyve probably forgotten your face and name already.'#'im not out to get you. i just want my job finished. the same way those guys just wanted their money.'#the bottom line of the convo being: bill really *doesnt* give a single fuck. and ford never mattered to him.#not even enough for him to *think* about ford every now and then.#fords holding a grudge against a guy who barely even remembers him.#obviously this goes against my interpretation of canon but it would still be fun to write#au where bill Truly doesnt care about ford in any way and isnt even interested by him at all#the inspiration for this was just the concept of: how crushing the realization would be for ford#the horror of realizing exactly how insignificant you are in the eyes of the eldritch being that ruined your life#i am willing to write something that feels ooc for bill when it is for angst purposes lmao#indifferent-eldritch-being bill is such an angsty concept. very fun to explore#an ao3 fic called 'the bolt that busted off the lever' (iirc) has this interpretation of bill and it is great#bill looking *bored* while interacting with ford??? absolutely heartbreaking concept 10/10
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krysmcscience · 23 days ago
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At long last: either an alternate explanation for or continuation of my prior comic regarding how Bill was ABSOLUTELY naked in Ford's karaoke night drawing. (Because errors in art do not exist. Artists do not make mistakes. So if you see any in this comic, No You Do Not.)
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I am so normal about these old dorks.
I'm not really clear on exactly when Bill started throwing his desperation book at Ford just like a needy ex do, but I find it extremely funny to imagine it happening literally the day of or after the makeshift funeral. Bill just gets this weird sense of 'Ford is taking steps to move on' and CANNOT FUCKING ABIDE.
I hope you enjoy all the goofy things I added to each page of Bill's sad spieling. (Everything SHOULD be readable so long as you view the full size, but I have added basically this whole little fanfic in the image descriptions, LMAO, which lays out all the little written notes and such.) Also don't ask how Bill managed to sneak that vampire pen in there. I have no idea, and honestly? I don't wanna know.
Oh, and a little bonus comic:
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Of course Bill would take it as flirting. Because between the two of them, Bill is the bigger masochist By Far. :)
Also I have continued applying The Good Place logic to any of Bill's attempts to swear. Case in point, one last bonus image, this time with a motivational line from my slapdash Theraprism OC, EV-01:
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Yes, its name is just 'love' backwards. No, I will not be taking any feedback on this. Yes, EV-01 was only ever assigned to Bill's case due to the Theraprism being desperate to make some progress in rehabilitating him. No, it did not work anywhere close to staff's expectations - Bill didn't even appreciate EV-01's matching fondness for bowties! (He claimed the fondness to be "cultural appropriation" and insisted he'd been traumatized by it.)
Anyway, if you like my stuff, reblogs are very much appreciated, and if you really really like it, perhaps consider my commissions or yeeting a teeny tiny tip my way? I am trying to recoup over 500 dollars in vet bills, ahaha... 🙃
In other news, I loved all the fun tags people added to the prior naked-karaoke comic (such as 'the hat and bow-tie stay ON during sex' and the classic '[insert keysmash here]', as well as the many amused/bewildered remarks about how I either made the bricks a piece of clothing or just straight up peeled Bill's skin off). However, I think my favorite thing by far was the several people losing their shit over the fact that I gave Bill toes. Like, excuse me? The magical talking triangle can have fingers but not toes??? Since when was that a rule????? 🤣 (Also the one person who reblogged with the cropped panel where Bill's fishnets pants are falling off to ask why Bill peed himself. Dude, I want to examine your brain...?)
Okie-dokie, I'm sick of looking at all of this stuff now and I'm off to go to work, after which I will either scribble some more goofy "Billford" comics or perhaps draw my lame human!Bill in Situations, idk yet. Maybe I'll even finally draw more than just a single other person's human!Bill...? Who knows, but I sure hope I can mix it up a little and not turn whatever I draw into a month-long fukken project. >:\
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inkskinned · 6 months ago
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hello. you left a neon pink post-it with pgs 194-359 due 9/12 in the book, by the way. it is now May 23rd and the library's printer is running out of ink. it jammed and tore my passport application. one of the librarians dutifully blacked out all my information (front and back!) before proceeding to use every unmarred inch as scrap paper.
i think maybe our (plural, inclusive) lives are connected. all of them. i have been thinking a lot about borrowing. about how people move through the world in waves, filling in the same spaces. i have probably stood on the same subway platform as you. we held the same book. all of us stand in the same line at the grocery, at the gas station. how many feet have stood washing dishes in my kitchen?
i hope you are doing well. the pen you used was a nice red, maybe a glitter pen? you have loopy, curling handwriting. i sometimes wonder if it is true that you can tell a personality by the shape of our letters. i'm borrowing my brother's car. he's got scrangly engineer handwriting (you know the one). it's a yellow-orange ford mustang boss. when i got out of the building, some kids were posing with it for a selfie. i felt a little bird grow in me and had to pause and pretend to be busy with my phone to give them more time for their laughing.
i have a habit of asking people what's the last good book you read? the librarian's handwriting on the back of my smeared-and-chewed passport application says the glass house in small undercase. i usually go for fantasy/sci fi, but she was glowing when she suggested it. i found your post-it on page 26, so i really hope you didn't have to read up to 359 in that particular book. i hope you're like me and just have a weird "random piece of trash" "bookmark" that somehow makes it through like, 58 books.
i wish the concept of soul mates was bigger. i wish it was about how my soul and your soul are reading the same work. how i actually put down that book at the same time you did - page 26 was like, all exposition. i wish we were soul mates with every person on the same train. how magical to exist and borrow the same space together. i like the idea that somewhere, someone is using the shirts i donated. i like the idea that every time i see a nice view and say oh gosh look at the view, you (plural, inclusive) said that too.
the kids hollered when i beeped the car. oh dude you set off the alarm, oh shit is she - dude that's her car!! one was extremely polite. "i like your car, Miss. i'm sorry we touched it." i said i wasn't busy, finish up the pictures. i folded your post-it into a paper crane while i waited. i thought about how my brother's a kind person but his handwriting looks angry. i thought about how for an entire year i drove someone to work every day - and i didn't even think to ask for gas money. my handwriting is straight capital letters.
i thought about how i can make a paper crane because i was taught by someone who was taught by someone else.
the kids asked me to rev the engine and you know i did. the way they reacted? you would have thought i brought the sun from the sky and poured it into a waterglass. i went home smiling about it. i later gave your post it-turned-bird to a tiny child on the bus. she put it in her mouth immediately.
how easy, standing in your shadow, casting my own. how our hands pass over each other in the same minor folds. i wonder how many of the same books you and i have read. i wonder how many people have the same favorite six songs or have been in the same restaurant or have attended the same movie premier. the other day i mentioned the Book Mill from a small town in western massachusetts - a lot of people knew of it. i wonder if i've ever passed you - and didn't even notice it.
i hope whatever i leave behind makes you happy. i hope my hands only leave gentle prints. i hope you and i get the same feeling when the sun comes out. soulmates across all of it.
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leeloooonfire · 4 months ago
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based on this post about Steve's internalized bi-phobia:
Steve has known for years.
And how could he not when Tommy's freckles come back tenfold each spring like a flower peaking it's head through the last layer of snow? Or when Matthew Carver's hair have a reddish brown tone that turns blond after they spent the last days before summer break practising outside and remind Steve of liquid gold? Or when he watches Star Wars and Harrison Ford, rugged and witty, comes into view and twists his stomach in knots? How could he not know?!
Steve knows he finds guys as attractive as girls, known for many, many years. But.
But he can't. Not when Tommy sneers at that boy in their literature class who likes flamboyant clothes and wants to be an actor on Broadway. Not when the people they meet in Indi who are like Robin and Eddie 'fully queer' and talk about people like Steve as if they're traitors and scams. Not when he reads the newspaper and is assaulted by Reagan and his folk preaching about the 'fag pandemic' or how his father nods in approval and mutters 'another sinner gone for good' when the news play on TV and they occasionally mention the crisis that kills people like Robin and Eddie and him.
Like him....
It doesn't matter how much he loves sleeping with his nose pressed against Eddie's collarbone or that he thinks he'd like to kiss Eddie and hold his hands and wake up beside him until they're old and wrinkly and complain about bad knees.
He is, but he cannot be a queer, half a fairy '50% like me, 50% like Eddie' as Robin jokes.
He will not be a bisexual, he can keep it inside, keep it hidden, buried deep inside him no matter how much it pains him. He can be the straight friend who goes to pride and bakes rainbow cakes and marries a woman even though his heart screams in an ear ringing cacophony, 'Eddie, Eddie Eddie Eddie!'
This is how his 20s go: loud and hurting and yearning and hiding and more noticeably being disgusted and ashamed of himself for simply being able to love men the way he can love women.
He's 29 when his wife, Becky, leaves him. It's not just Eddie and this shameful secret that weights heavy on their relationship, but the scars and all the other secrets he is unable to explain to her that drive Becky finally away - back to Boston. She leaves him alone in that tiny house they bought three years ago with their Saint Bernard puppy they lovingly named Bernadette.
He's 30 when he goes to a coffee meeting of the bisexual group meeting in Chicago, nearly turning the car multiple times, hands and knees sweaty with fear that they won't want him there. They do want him there, welcome him with open arms, and talk about things Steve knows all too well: 'When I fell in love with the first girl, I ran. I like men just fine, so I hid my crush. It's just easier, when your parents hate gays, when the world is shaming our community, when we're dying.' He finds a second home there, and learns - learns about queerness and bisexuality, about trans and gender non conforming people and physical attraction versus emotional attraction. He learns about his past and present and about his future, about their history and where they want to go, how they want to mold their world to fit people like them into it without the pain and the hiding.
Steve is 33 when he finally comes out to everyone dear to him. To the kids who aren't kids anymore and to Joyce and Hopper, and then his parents. this does not go well, but Steve doesn't want, doesn't need their validation anymore. He has his family, his friends, his support system who love him not regardless of his sexuality but because of it, love him because it's part of him. He comes out to Becky, too and that goes much better. they want to be friends, in the future. She's also met Gary who works the the NY Times and wants her to follow him into the big city. So Steve is looking forward how that goes, their tentative friendship.
He is 34 when Eddie comes back from his latest world tour and wants to take a break to rekindle with his uncle, to write new songs, to take a breather. It's only natural that Eddie moves into Steve's guest room and takes over his space on the couch where he cuddles Bernadette while Steve is in the kitchen and makes them grilled cheese and tomato soup for dinner.
Its even more natural when their feet meet while watching a movie and they lean into each other in the kitchen, dawn barely there, while they wait for the coffee maker to finish.
Steve's 35 when Eddie finally kisses him and he kisses back. No hurt, no shame, no guilt gnawing on him, Steve finally allows himself to be with the person he truly wants - regardless of their gender.
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roosterforme · 3 months ago
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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 20 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley gets the update he's been waiting for. You get something you weren't expecting. Neither of you can tell the other how you're feeling.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, romantic Bradley, 18+
Length: 3700 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
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You drove Bradley's Bronco back to his house, dragged yourself back inside, and climbed back in bed. You cried so hard when you watched him carry his duffle bag into the airport, you had painful hiccups for twenty minutes afterwards. Now you were emotionally drained and on the cusp of a headache, and this was only the first day.
With your cheek on Bradley's pillow, you pulled the covers over your head and took a few deep breaths. He didn't know much about his deployment, but the communication blackout was designed to keep you from learning anything. If something happened to him, it might be weeks before you heard about it. Your heart ached as you thought about how lonely he was going to feel after he made it a point to tell you how much he loved getting mail from your class last time.
You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, and you scrambled to get it out.
About to take off. I love you, Gorgeous. I'll let you know when I land.
Well, you had about six hours to kill until you would hear from him again, which felt bad enough. Then seven full weeks after that. You typed back to him with fresh tears in your eyes, and then you tried to sleep, but the hiccups came back. When you moved to the couch, it felt too cold. You were tempted to call Natasha, but if you couldn't even make it a handful of hours without Bradley, you didn't think she would be able to help you.
It would start to get better. It would have to. When your winter break ended, you'd be back in your classroom with your students. You could dive into your lesson plans for the new year. You could focus on teaching. You could do this. Because if you found out the hard way that you couldn't, then you had no business being with Bradley.
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Bradley was given a tiny room in the barracks on base in Norfolk, and he spent the entire night talking to you on the phone. Literally six hours straight before he passed out, sound asleep, hanging halfway off the bed with his phone connected to the charger. One of the last things he remembered you saying was, "As soon as you know if it's San Diego or Norfolk, let me know. I love you."
The following morning, he was so exhausted, he was practically dizzy as he met with his commanding officer, Admiral Walker, for this new special deployment. Even his arm felt heavy as he saluted Walker in his office. It was barely seven o'clock which equated to four in the morning in San Diego, and he knew it would take him a few days to get caught back up on sleep at this point. But every second of talking to you was worth it.
"Lieutenant Bradshaw. Welcome back to the Atlantic Fleet," Walker told him, gesturing to the empty chair in the office. 
"Thank you, Sir," he replied, even though he was far less than thrilled to be back in Virginia at all. The prospect of a change of station could not have come at a worse time when he spent the flight from California looking at engagement rings on his phone.
As Bradley sat down, the older man said, "We never wanted to lose you to the Pacific in the first place, so I'm sure you can understand why you'll be staying on the east coast after your seven weeks on the Gerald R. Ford is complete."
His heart sank to his feet, and he felt like he was going to throw up. "Sir?" Bradley asked. "That's it? There's no chance of me returning to North Island?"
When the response he got was a raised eyebrow, Bradley pressed his lips into a line. This man wasn't going to give a shit that he owned a house in Coronado or that he was in love with the most beautiful woman in the world who happened to work in Mira Mesa. Something told him that keeping his mouth shut was the better option right now, even though he felt like punching a hole in the wall and flipping the desk.
Walker shuffled some papers on his desk. "Plans still need to be finalized, but it is our goal, and the goal of the US Navy, to change your station to Norfolk."
The words echoed in Bradley's mind. He couldn't decide if he should tell you about this yet. It wasn't like he had signed paperwork in his hand. Until he did, as far as he was concerned, he was going back to Top Gun and the love of his life. He knew you were stressed and concerned enough as it was, and he didn't want you to have to dwell on this unless it was finalized. 
"Once aboard the carrier, mission details will become available to you and the other aviators," Walker informed him. "I have a folder with your bunk assignment and some more information that you can take with you right now. You'll have access to your phone for about another hour, but as soon as you report to the carrier, it will need to be shut down and locked up. Are we clear, Lieutenant?"
Before Bradley could even respond, there was a sharp knock at the door. Walker heaved a weary sigh as his gaze left Bradley's face, and he barked, "Come in."
Of all the faces he knew from North Island, Bradley wasn't exactly sure if it was a friendly one, but when the door opened, Admiral Simpson came strolling inside in his service khakis. He couldn't fathom why his meeting was being interrupted by Cyclone, but he sat quietly with the folder in his hands. 
"Admiral Walker," Beau Cyclone greeted, voice as stern as ever. "You never returned my calls, and red eye flights the week of Christmas are not something I find endearing."
Walker stood behind his desk with all of his accolades hanging on the wall behind him, and Bradley jumped to his feet as well. "Admiral Simpson," Walker replied, voice dripping with disdain. "There was no need for you to fly out in person to release your pilot to my fleet."
Bradley could hear Cyclone's knuckles crack as he watched his eye twitch. He was somehow caught in the middle of this, but it looked like the Top Gun admiral was in no mood to be outmaneuvered and lose a member of his team. Bradley silently goaded him on while he stood there completely still.
"I'm not releasing anyone to you. That's not how this works," Cyclone barked. "If you can't manage your fleet, you don't get to poach from mine."
The admirals seemed to be in a competition to see whose face could get redder. "Admiral Simpson, I'm sure you'll find my rank alone is reason enough for-"
"You do not outrank me," Cyclone interrupted, voice loud but calm. Then he turned toward Bradley with his jaw clenched and said, "Lieutenant Bradshaw. You are dismissed. Please board the USS Gerald R. Ford on time for your deployment."
"Yes, Sir," he replied, saluting both men before walking back out into the hallway on slightly unsteady legs. He paused, hoping to hear some more of their conversation or an outright blow up that would give him a clue as to what the fuck was going on, but instead he walked the rest of the way to the barracks to collect his duffle and head to the docks. 
With his phone in his hand once again and his bag slung over his shoulder, Bradley called you. He knew it was early and he'd be waking you up, but time was tight now. And your voice was the only thing that would keep him sane at the moment. 
"Bradley," you sighed a second later, and he pressed his phone tighter to his ear. 
"Baby, I miss you so much," he promised, heart aching. He swallowed hard and decided not to bring up anything that was going on since he didn't have a completely clear understanding of it himself. "I'm about to board the carrier."
He could hear you crying, and he wanted to kick himself. "Just come back safely. That's all I want. As long as you're safe, that's all that matters to me, okay?"
He was having a hard time keeping his own tears at bay. "Me, too. We'll figure out the rest of it later, Gorgeous. Take care of yourself. Write in the journal. And don't forget to check the mail."
"I love you, Bradley!"
"I love you so much."
As soon as he ended the call and turned off his phone, he had to walk through a small building for security screening. It was there that his bag and phone were taken from him. When he exited the other side, his duffle was handed back to him, but his phone was not.
"Sorry, Lieutenant," the petty officer told him with a shrug when he glared. "I'll tag it for you and return it when you get back to Norfolk. At least it's not a long deployment."
Bradley couldn't even argue with that. It wasn't that long in the grand scheme of things. He'd been overseas for a full twelve months at a time when he was younger. This should have felt like nothing, but he knew it would feel like the worst one. He hefted his bag higher on his shoulder and started to head for the bunk that would be his for the duration. There was no sense in standing on deck when there was nobody who would be looking for him to see him off.
He made it down two hallways before a loud voice echoed off the walls around him. "Lieutenant Bradshaw." When he turned, Admiral Simpson was heading his way, face so red it was almost purple. Bradley's heart sank.
"Yes, sir?"
The other man pulled his composure together, sighing like an angry bull. "While you will be under the command of Admiral Walker for this deployment, you will fly directly back to San Diego when you return to port in Norfolk. You'll be presented with the paperwork today."
Bradley's jaw dropped open. "I'm returning to the Pacific Fleet, Sir?"
He got one firm nod in response. "I told you last week that I would do what I could to retain you."
This was honestly the best case scenario, and Bradley could feel some of his tension melt away. "You weren't kidding," he mumbled before clearing his throat. "Thank you, Sir. Being in San Diego is important to me."
"Fly safely, Lieutenant. See you in seven weeks," Cyclone barked before turning on his heel and walking toward the ramp back down to the dock.
Bradley pumped his fist in the air. "Fuck, yeah," he whispered, spinning on the spot. He would get to go back to the station he preferred in North Island as well as his friends, but most importantly, he would get to return to you. There would be no stress of packing and moving and hoping you were still willing to come with him. He could stay in Coronado.
When he slid his hand into his pocket to get his phone out to call you back, he froze. "God damn it."
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If waiting for emails and letters was bad before, this was torture. The early days of getting to know Bradley through written notes left you with constant butterflies in your tummy, but now it felt like you were walking around with a lead weight instead. You constantly caught yourself reaching for your phone to text him before setting it back down in frustration. 
You hadn't heard from him since before he stepped onto the aircraft carrier, and that was four days ago. Today was New Year's Eve, and at least you had the wine bar with Natasha to look forward to. While you got dressed and ready to go, you couldn't help but put in just the bare minimum amount of effort. What was the point when your boyfriend wasn't even here to give you kisses along your neck and call you Gorgeous? You pouted at your reflection in the bathroom mirror and put the cap on your lip gloss before even using it.
"You look nice," Nat said as you climbed in the front seat of her car. You turned to look at her with one eyebrow raised.
"I'm wearing Bradley's old sweatshirt with a pair of leggings that are starting to get a hole in the crotch."
She started cackling as she pulled away from the curb. "Well, you still look nice."
"Thanks," you said softly, watching the houses go by. 
As Nat turned toward the highway to head up to Oceanside, she asked, "How are you making out?"
You pressed your lips together for a few seconds, trying to make sure you weren't going to cry. "I'm just having a hard time being off from work while he's gone. It's... harder than I thought it would be. I can't wait to return to my classroom in a few days."
"I'm sure that will make it easier," she agreed. "You'll be so busy, time will start to fly by. Oh, I forgot to ask if you got any interesting mail at Bradley's house since he left?"
You shook your head. "I barely remember to check the mailbox most days. Why?"
"Don't worry about it," she replied smoothly. "You'll be back to work in a few days, but in the meantime, we've got merlot and chardonnay to keep your mind occupied."
"Sounds like you're talking about two hot French men," you said with a laugh.
"I could be! You don't even know!"
Now both of you were laughing. And you were still laughing when you actually did order a glass of merlot and a glass of chardonnay. You and Nat enjoyed some wine flights and cheese platters, and she regaled you with stories about Bradley from flight school.
"When he was twenty-two, he probably weighed a hundred and twenty pounds," she said with a smirk. "He was such a nerd, too. God, it was so bad." You were trying to stifle your laughter as she added, "Once he really started working out and grew the mustache, he thought he was hot shit. He's still a fucking nerd."
"He kind of is," you agreed through your giggles.
"But he's a good one," she promised. "Wears his heart on his sleeve too often, but I don't think he has to worry about you breaking it."
You ran your hand along the sleeve of his sweatshirt. "Never."
Once the two of you were filled with cheese and sober enough to get back in the car, you paid for your adventure with the gift card Bradley gave you, only to find out it had five hundred dollars on it.
"Natasha! We need to come back like four more times," you said as you signed the slip.
"I don't see any issue with that," she muttered, leaving cash for a tip. "I think I'll write Bradley an email and thank him for funding girls' day so he can read it when he gets back to Norfolk."
"I think he'd like that."
You started thinking about the journal sitting on the nightstand in his bedroom. Every night before you fell asleep, you'd been pouring your heart and thoughts out into the thing, but even the mention of the word Norfolk had you fretting again. You managed to keep up the conversation with Bradley's best friend as she drove you back to Coronado, but perhaps you should keep most of your things packed after you moved your stuff to his house. What if you had to move to Virginia when the school year ended?
"Thanks for driving," you told her when she pulled up to Bradley's driveway to let you out.
"Anytime," she said, waving you off. "We'll go back up again soon." When you leaned in to give her a hug, she told you, "Don't forget to check the mail."
"Okay."
You weren't sure exactly what her deal was since Bradley couldn't send you anything, but if she wanted you to, then you would. You already promised your boyfriend you'd keep an eye on anything unusual that arrived, so as you walked up to the front door, you took a peek inside the mailbox. Empty. Just like the house. You curled up on the couch with the journal and started to write your daily entry.
I heard from a very reliable source (Natasha) that you were and still are a nerd. I'm going to need to see some pre-stache photos of you when you get home. Your best friend is a wealth of information when you get some wine in her, and I had a great time with her today. 
But I miss you. So much. Sometimes it knocks the breath out of my lungs. Your house is too cold and quiet without you here, hogging the couch and eating snacks. I'm looking forward to school starting up in a few days. It'll be a little less lonely when I have eighteen kids telling me what they got for holiday gifts. Of course I'll have to tell them they won't get a visit from their favorite aviator for a while. We'll just be nineteen sad pen pals.
---------------------------
On January second, you were working on your lesson plans while wearing Bradley's gym shorts and eating potato chips. Tomorrow you'd get back into a routine with work, but first you were going to allow yourself one last day of being kind of pitiful. You bit off more than you could chew with Bradley, and now you were paying the price. 
You sporadically started crying at random times throughout the day, and it was only made worse by the overwhelming feeling of being alone. If you could barely make it a week without hearing from him, how were you going to make random deployments with no communication your lifestyle? Why did you even think you could?
While you were crunching your way through some potato chips, you heard something thump on the front porch. The sound made you jump on the couch, and you set your snack down on the table and crept to the front door. When you peeked outside, there was nobody there, but when you cracked the door open, you saw a box. A fairly large box. Addressed to you.
"Oh my god," you gasped. It was from Bradley. According to the date stamped next to your name, he somehow sent a box from the post office in San Diego last week. "Oh my god!"
You grabbed it and kicked the door shut, almost tripping on your way back to the coffee table. When you tried to claw at the tape, you almost broke your nails. "Scissors," you shouted, running for the kitchen drawer by the sink where your boyfriend kept a random assortment of junk. Then you walked quickly back to the couch and started to cut into the box.
Natasha had to be behind the arrival of the box, but you couldn't fathom what could possibly be inside. If Bradley wanted you to have something, he could have simply given it to you before he left. Your heart was pounding as you set the scissors down and looked inside.
"Bradley," you gasped, tears filling your eyes as those familiar butterflies zoomed and swooped around in your belly. You'd been so upset about missing out on his letters, he sent you a whole box of them. There were dozens of envelopes and little treats filling the box nearly to the top, but a neon orange envelope with OPEN ME FIRST written on it caught your eye. You pulled it out of the box and tore into it.
Hey, Gorgeous,
I'm thinking about you right now. Guaranteed. It doesn't matter when you get this box or when you read this note, I'm thinking about how much I love you. And if I'm asleep, I'm dreaming about us eating Thai food on the beach in front of a sunset that is nowhere near as beautiful as you.
I hope you realize there was no way you weren't going to get some letters from me while I'm deployed. I would never let that happen. Somehow, you fell in love with me this way in the first place, and more than anything, I want you to feel as loved as I do. So I filled this box with little notes and long, rambling love letters and things I thought you might like. When you read the individual envelopes, you'll know what to do.
Please fill that journal up for me. I can't wait to read it in seven weeks. I'm missing you like crazy, and I selfishly hope you're missing me just as much. I love you.
Yours Truly,
Bradley
With shaking hands, you set the note down on the orange envelope and swiped at your tears. You never dreamed you would meet a man this romantic, but somehow you did, and he became your boyfriend. "Oh, Bradley," you whispered, picking up a stack of envelopes and reading what was written on each one.
Open me when you've had a bad day
Open me when you really want some coffee
Open me when you need a laugh
Open me when you're in bed
Open me when you need a girls' night
Open me with your class
You flopped down onto the couch and kicked your feet in the air. "Bradley!" you shrieked, voice breaking as you started to cry. You hugged the letters to your chest and let the warm feeling of being loved wash over you and fill your heart. He was unbelievable. He was perfect. He was everything you wanted. And somehow you loved him a little more and missed him a little less with this box on the coffee table.
------------------------------
He's so romantic. He's taking care of Gorgeous from afar! He's coming home to San Diego, but she doesn't even know it! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls and @daggerspare-standingby
PART 21
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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months ago
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I saw the Dad! Stanley, could you make the Dad! Stanford one? Like how his reaction come back after 30 years saw Reader already become responsible adult
-🐈‍⬛
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Ford kept a picture of you -his life’s greatest achievement- in his pocket at all times during his time in the multiverse, reminding him of who he had waiting for him back home when he felt as though he was at his limit.
Being a father was never on the docket but the moment you entered his life he dedicated himself to raising you as best as he could, even going so far as to do extensive amounts of research in preparation for any and every vital moment of your life.
You had became a pivotal part of his life and made everything he did even more important for he was doing it for you and the future you’d live in. He wanted you to grow up prepared for anything and everything life would throw at you, along with how to handle yourself for the inevitable day where he couldn’t be with you anymore. (He hates it as much as you did)
He commemorates everything you did and dedicated parts of his journals to you and your growth or things that you did that made him laugh. (You wore his coat once and Ford was fighting the demons within him known as cuteness aggression because of how it swamped your tiny form.)
An excerpt:
‘They look at me like I’m something and I’m worried that one day they’ll grow up and not view me as such when they see what I’ve done when they slept soundly in their crib, but all I do, I do for them.’
However this desire to watch you grow and be apart of your important developmental stages would be cut short when he fell into the portal when you were just 8 years old.
His last words before the portal closed entirely to Stanley were: ‘no! Y/n! I haven’t done everything I’ve wanted to do with them yet! Go trick or treating with them on Summerween! Go Fishing! Watch them grow up! Stanley, don’t leave them alone, they really hate being alone!’
And raise you Stanley did as he would try his hardest to keep your memory of Stanford alive and well, thinking it was the best he could do after accidentally taking his brother from you. He’d even make a whole album for when Ford comes back from the day he fell into the portal.
Stanley didn’t miss a single moment to capture you doing something adorable (dressed up as a paranormal detective for the summerween he took you out on) or similar to Ford himself (becoming curious about about the mystery of Gravity falls after an incident with a bunny demon and even making a series of journals yourself)
Stanley made sure to capture every little thing he could from you helping him run the shack, to you making your first friends, your little experiments on how much food Soos could stuff in his face without getting full. Which was fun until he always threw up.
You were so much like Ford it hurt Stanley to look at you sometimes because all he could see was his brother in you that he had to look away sometimes, and he knew that Ford would be so fucking proud of the person you grew up to be but also knew that he would hate himself for not being there for it all.
So when the day came when Ford finally retired home, his first words as he stepped out of the portal were; ‘where’s y/n?’
Dipper, Mabel, Soos and Stanley could only watch as you, a full grown adult of 38, stepped forward with tears in your eyes when meeting face to face with the man who raised you before his brother took over, reaching out to him whispering ‘dad?’
Ford was shocked to say the least when he looked over at this adult calling him dad, only for his brain to work fast and connect the dots as he pulls out the picture of you as a child from his coat pocket and made the connection that you and the smiling child in the picture he held close to his heart were one in the same.
You were now all grown up and he wasn’t there to see it happen with his own eyes, something that broke his heart into a million pieces knowing that he never got the chance to see it himself! The coat that hung off of your frame was his, he could clearly tell but it didn’t swamp your form like it use to, it suited you and the makeshift journal Ford saw you had clutched in your hand and knew you were his child in more ways then one.
You had his curiosity and his need to understand the unknown to great but sometimes dangerous depths, god he missed you so fucking much, his sweet child and his sweet child you’ll always will be in his eyes as he watched as you quickly walked towards him and hugged his frozen form tightly as you wept in his shoulder.
‘Dad.’ You said. ‘I’m all grown up.’
Ford chuckled weakly as he too found himself unable to keep the tears at bay, ‘I can see that sweetie pie,’ he said as he held you tightly against him. ‘I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to see it.’ He adds knowing that this will be one of his life regrets until the day he died, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t use this time to catch up with you and learn all about you all over again.
‘It’s okay.’ You reassured him, clinging onto him as though he’d disappeared again. ‘It’ll give me an excuse to talk your ear off about all my expeditions, my theories and my thoughts on everything that’s been going off here.’
‘They really are cut from the very same cloth as you.’ Stanley told Stanford as he watched you tuck Dipper and Mabel into bed that night. ‘They’re smart and even graduated from a prestigious college at the top of their class, they were even valedictorian just like you back in highschool, but they came back to gravity falls because they wanted to dedicated themselves to helping me in getting you back.’ He adds as Stanford looks at his twin with tears in his eyes.
‘And I wasn’t there to watch them walk across that stage…’ he mutters and Stanley pulls out a photo that he had taken during your graduation ceremony and gave it to Ford who could only smile weakly as he took you in. You had blossomed so much when he was away and it broke Ford even more when he realised that he knew little to nothing about you now.
‘I’m such a terrible father.’ He tells Stanley who grips him by the shoulders and looks him dead in the eye.
‘Hey! You are not a terrible father, they love you so much that they stay up late at night trying to decipher you work in hopes of finding a lead so that they could have their father back in their life. So don’t you dare say that about yourself when they’ve nothing but miss their father for the past 30 years!’ Stanley scolded him just as you walked into the hallway after bidding dipper and Mabel goodnight.
You heard them but decided not to speak up about it, after all today had been quite emotionally exhausting and all you wanted to do was sleep. ‘I’m going to bed, good night dad, good night uncle Stan.’
‘Hold it you.’ Stanley said as he walked over to you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, pulling away as he smiled at you. ‘Night pipsqueak.’ You smiled back before looking over at Ford, wanting to go to him and Stan could see the conflict in your eyes and pushed you towards his twin before retreating to his room.
‘So I was thinking that we could go monster hunting…you know like father and child. I’ve been trying to track down this dragon like creature that’s said to live on the highest mountain of gravity falls since its conception.’ You said awkwardly as Ford smiled at you and placed a hand on your shoulder.
‘I’d be glad too sweetheart, you don’t have to ask me to spend time with you because I’ll always want to spend time with my child.’ He replied and you couldn’t help but smile widely as you hugged him tightly again. Needless to say you and Ford made up for lost time in quick succession as you both ran away from being burnt alive by the massive dragon that was originally thought to be a myth.
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ckret2 · 10 months ago
Note
please more evil ford please i stare with my puppy eyes for this i am obbsessed
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Yeah all right, I've been working on some art. (For context, we're talking about this Evil Ford.)
Evil Ford is Evil as in "cheerfully works with Bill even after learning his full plot" and "is totally ready to conquer and/or destroy the world." But other than the shocking lack of basic ethics and the supervillain objective he's mostly the same guy—which means he still cares about his family. He's hoping to get them to join in on the world conquest plan.
Forty-odd years ago he went off to college promising someday he'd be a big shot scientist who changes the world and he'd make his family a fortune. If taking over reality doesn't qualify he doesn't know what does. The family can join him and his buddy Bill and rule the universe together. Pines Pines Pines Pines!
Unfortunately for him, the rest of the family still has normal moral compasses. And also they've met Bill.
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Bill can't currently possess Ford due to Reasons; but even though he can't get in the driver's seat he still has permission to ride shotgun at any time. Ford talks to him pretty regularly. He HAS been caught doing this. Stan thinks he's just gone a little nutty from thirty years of isolation.
Naturally, since he was always on Bill's side, Ford's perception of events during Weirdmageddon is a bit different:
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I finally made an official Evil Ford New Costume Character Design, check out his exciting totally different brand new look:
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I decided that, since Ford is still basically the same person aside from his terrible life goals, he'd probably have the same fashion sense. And so... nothing changes except two tiny details lmao.
But he DOES have tattoos:
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I traced a canon character model and took off its top to get a base to slap tattoos on, and then went dang... they gave him a big head and arms. He looks goofy. Anyway,
His forearms have less incriminating tattoos—just a birch tree and a sunrise. (The sunrise looks like the Journal 3 "The Muse Has Spoken" page.) The red text is the "triangulum entangulum" ritual; if anyone asks he'll go "it's uhh an ancient Sumerian poem about how great science is." It's not until he's topless that it's like "oh so he's a CULTIST cultist." The one exception is an unconcealed Eye of Providence on his right palm—but it's in an ink that's only visible in certain lighting. It's there so at any time he can point his hand at something and go "Bill are you seeing this BS?"
Of course, he still has the "hey now, you're an all star" neck tattoo. I didn't have room to draw it.
As you can see, he's made being Bill's right hand man a core part of his personality. Rather than spending 30 years scrabbling around the multiverse desperately searching for a way to destroy Bill, he spent 30 years chilling in the Quadrangle of Qonfusion as Bill's specialest favoritest Henchmaniac, and only scrabbling around the multiverse occasionally for fun & profit.
Here's a photo Bill & Ford took at a Nightmare Realm house party like fifteen years ago, three minutes before Bill started an argument and set the house on fire.
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Most people have their wild party years in college, Ford has his in his 40s.
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fangirlingpuggle · 2 months ago
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So gravity falls AU/fic prompt where the twins actually are Bill and Ford's kids. Like an experiment started during a certain karaoke night and pushed away lost among stuff after break-up and during Ford's paranoia era (Neither remember they even started the experiment they were both so drunk)
So after Ford is lost in the portal Stan is looking through his lab years later, 12 years before show starts he knocks down the experiment it actives and Stan is staring at 2 tiny little shapes with big eyes, one a pink star the other a blue pine tree with an odd little birth mark on it's top.
Stan is freaking the fuck out at 2 little shapes who are crying and sound like baby's, he finds an old sticky note and recognizes Ford's handwriting... Ford's drunk handwriting... and is like Sixer what did you do oh fuck I'm an uncle now.
Cue Stan raising his little demon niece and nephew, reading all the parenting books but NONE OF THESE TELL YOU WHAT TO DO IF THEY'RE DEMONS OR FLOATING.
The twins living their lives trying to learn powers, only staying in shack or lab as can't really go out, they have gone out a few times with Stan while hiding in his coat. They know all about their dad (The human one at least) stuck in the portal.
Soos knows about them of course he's been working at the shack since he was a kid, he loves both the little demon dudes and is the best big cousin/brother
It's only that summer when they're 12 that the twins have figured out how to turn in human forms for as long as they want. So Stan tells everyone his niece and nephew are coming to live with him, he's going to enroll them in school after summer.
The twins are so exited to finally go out and explore gravity falls and meet people, Mabel is so excited for friends. Dipper really wants to learn about the mystery and all the weird stuff and maybe learn more about his and Mabel's powers they think they could do more but have no idea what they could do.
They have a rule with Stan, no demon powers (As long as you don't get caught and it can't be traced back to us)
Ford returning and suddenly facing his brother...and his son and daughter.
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wokecipher · 3 months ago
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Billy Pines AU
Say hi to an AU I started drawing right after the book came out, it's funny to see it show my art journey of learning to draw Bill Cipher over time.
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(above being something I made yesterday vs the first time ever drawing for this idea)
This is an alternate universe of Gravity Falls, where during the collapse of Weirdmageddon, the Universe makes a teensy tiny mistake...
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When Weirdmageddon was thwarted, the sudden release of chaotic energy accidentally flung a younger version of a familiar face right into Gravity Falls. This younger Bill Cipher stumbles around looking for his parents, lost and alone, until stumbling upon the statue of his "future" self.
He stays by the statue until he's found by Mabel Pines, who immediately panics and kicks him, not realizing that this tinier version of Cipher isn't the same as his counterpart.
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(more doodles and huge infodump below! I plan on turning this all into a comic at some point, so, SPOILERS!! if I decide to do that, that is :P)
After the initial panic, Mabel ends up calming and realizing that this sobbing smushy version of Bill may... not be Bill. At the least, not in a way she's familiar with. She ends up retrieving Grunkle Ford who takes Billy away to study him, paranoid Bill somehow returned yet again.
Billy is frantic and confused, being in an entirely new reality is incredibly overwhelming and scary. He's also lonely and worrying, being away from his caregivers is intensely stressful and he is unable to go to them for help, comfort, or advice. Stanford is sadly not very nice at all to Billy, and sees him as a ruse by Bill to trick everyone into helping him... somehow.
Stanford and Stanley are both heavily against Billy and want him destroyed, Dipper wants him gone as well... but Mabel doesn't feel the same.
After awhile, Mabel becomes increasingly anxious over the scenario. She's worried that Billy isn't an actual threat, and starts wanting to help and understand him. Mabel is also feeling slightly guilty from kicking the kid. Meanwhile Dipper is frustrated and scared of Bill's potential return and fights against Mabel's various theories about Billy. One of Mabel's leading theories is that Billy is actually Bill's child, who just happened to show up at around the same time. She notes how young and confused he seems as evidence, alongside the obvious resemblance to Bill Cipher. Dipper thinks this is insane.
The two end up getting into an argument over the theory, leading to Mabel running out on Dipper because she's very upset over everything. It'd sorta go
Mabel would sort of start it, defensive, "He's just a baby, you guys can't do this to him without knowing it's Bill first!"
Dipper is frustrated "This is obviously a trick, Mabel! Bill is trying to trick us into... whatever this is!!" He'd probably waves his hands around, not sure what to do with himself.
Mabel is upset too, she wanted to defend the defenseless, "But what if he's not? What if he's just Bill's kid??"
"You'd take that chance?!" Dipper is very much done with this.
"... :(" Mabel doesn't really have a response. Because Mabel wants to say "YES!" but also she hates Bill too, and doesn't want him to hurt the people she cares about because of her again. So she'd probably get upset and just leave because this is VERY morally conflicting for her.
Later, Mabel decides to sneak into wherever Ford's lab is, and starts attempting to communicate with Billy. She draws and lets him draw too, but she does her best to be cautious. Mabel doesn't want to make a mistake and accidentally trust Bill again, she feels enough guilt for "starting Weirdmageddon" the first time (regardless of if its really her fault, regardless of how many times others reassure her).
(To note, Bill Cipher is still very much around, and very stuck in the Theraprism! I'd like to think he, at some point, found out about this "impostor" version of himself as a child through some doodle either Billy or Mabel made. He was probably flabbergasted and furious.)
Ford would eventually conclude this is probably not some evil plot by Bill, at least if it is, it's very convoluted and doesn't make too much sense for him to actually believe it.
Mabel eventually takes Billy home with her and Dipper because Ford can't handle being around Billy without acting very disturbed, and she can't in good conscious abandon the literal child. It also helps that she seems to be the only person Billy trusts at all.
Ford only allowed this with frequent visits and check ins.
To make this VERY long plot summary a bit shorter, what happens after this is general shenanigans a la the OG Gravity Falls show (minus the Bill Cipher drama, just fun hijinks and adventures)(there's still huge drama when it's discovered that Billy IS just Bill as a kid though, that sure won't end up deeply traumatic for any reason)!
But eventually, people grow up, people die, and Billy is left with an extinct world and alone, similar to his predecessor.
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I don't think he'd turn out okay what so ever given he was ripped away from his home reality, got stuck in a place where he's hated by everyone, and raised by a family that was deeply traumatized by an alternative version of him so he's always eternally guilty for things he literally never did. Also, constantly not being able to interact with society, participate in things like school and being with people like him his age... yeah this kid isn't growing up stable I'm sorry.
Don't worry! After millions or billions of years, he ends up in the... exact same place as his counterpart. Good job Billy! Get better soon. Bill hates his ass so much.
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That's all byyyyeee!
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rememberwren · 6 months ago
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/•Harmless Fun•\
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Further Parts
Exactly what it says on the tin. Established ghoap, bringing in fem!reader roommate. Poor writing. Reader has had any identifying features removed, but she owns a Ford Fiesta. Take that as you will. Just testing to see if there is interest in a lighthearted fun sexy fic like this. 🩶
*
“Remember. You’re desperate,” you muttered to yourself looking at your reflection in the rearview mirror of your tiny Ford Fiesta. The ink might as well still be fresh on the ad your roommate printed off for you (the perfect symbol of her guilt for moving back in with her boyfriend and forcing you to find a new apartment and new roommates in the first place).
The ad reads as thus: WANTED: ANY GENDER WELCOME to fill the second bedroom in a 2b/2ba 1290sq ft apartment. DOWNTOWN. In-building laundry. Utilities and rent split EVENLY amongst 3. NO FASCISTS, NO HOMOPHOBES.
It was the most promising ad you had seen after days of scouring the internet in your every spare moment (usually reserved for those moments when you were on break during shifts, feet and back aching, hating your life OR at the end of a long day when the post-sunset depression hit with all the force of a typhoon). Any two people who were against fascism and homophobia were alright in your book. As for the finer details—well. You were desperate. You were going to have to overlook any skeletons in their closets, as long as those skeletons weren’t literal.
I’m texting about the apartment downtown. Is this the right number?
Yeah, you’ve got it. Nice to text ya. You’re interested?
Very. Is there somewhere we could meet to discuss the details?
We don’t mind showing the apartment. Got a few others coming to see it as well. You cursed up a storm reading over that particular text, so much so that your roommate’s boyfriend knocked angrily on the thin walls separating your bedrooms. Scowling, you knocked back—a little too angry to be mistaken for conciliatory. You blamed that bastard for your troubles in the first place.
I’ll see it ASAP, if that’s okay.
Go-getter. How soon can you be here?
Which is how you found yourself in the parking lot of the building, hastily combing hairs back into place, hoping for some semblance of presentability. If only there was a way to hide the desperation in your eyes…
The apartment complex itself is everything you could have hoped for. It even has an indoor pool, which is a step up from the facilities offered at your own apartment. The rent is a little higher than what you were pulling at your old place, but you think you can manage it if you cut back on excess frivolities. And any joy. (Joy costs)
There’s a doorman even—an honest to god doorman! He instructs you on the way to the elevators, and you take them up to the top floor, feeling your ears pop from the change in altitude. By the time you’re standing in front of their door, your knees are knocking together, terrified of who you might be meeting. Even more terrified that they might not like you, that they might say no—
—and the door opens, shattering any expectation you have. The man standing there is undoubtedly, ungodly, unseemly, obscenely hot. His head nearly brushes the frame of the door, blond hair wild and mussed, like he’s just had the fuck of his life. He’s thick, too, muscles on muscles along his corded forearms, bared by the dark tee that stretches across his chest.
He is pale and dark eyed and frowning down at you so sternly that you are convinced you have knocked on the wrong door. God help you. It’s all an honest mistake—but then his gravelly, softly-accented voice says: “You’re here about the apartment?”
Your heart nearly stops. This is the person who owns the apartment? How could you be expected to live alongside this behemoth? Just as you are about to tuck tail and run, a hand grips the man’s shoulder and gently tugs him aside and another specimen—two of them! two!—appears. This one has his hair cropped in a Mohawk, his eyes a deep drown-worthy blue. A few inches shorter, he is just as impressive shape. He beams at you.
“Well!” he says, leaning on the door frame in a way that fetchingly shows off the cut muscles of his arm and chest. His voice is accented too, something rougher, different than the taller man’s. “You aren’t what I was expecting. Unless yer just a wee fascist.”
You blink. You had been thinking the very same. Your hackles rise on instinct, bristling in preemptive outrage. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“We’ve had a type answering the ad,” the other man says dryly. “Johnny doesn’t mean nothing. Come in—if you’re still interested in the apartment.”
It crosses your mind that this is perhaps foolish: entering an apartment of strange men, regardless of how you had left the address with your roommate and specified a time to check in with her. But you’re desperate. So you slip in after them, Johnny making ample room for you to move past him in the doorway.
When you do, you smell his shower gel, something woodsy. You say a prayer that you aren’t drooling.
Your eyes roam over the open-concept apartment. The living room and kitchen are combined, larger than you might have imagined. It is homier, too, for a place where two men live: there are pictures along the walls, potted plants in the corners and on the desk, and an easel overlooking the balcony in the corner, an oil half-rendering of the view outside.
It is tidy. It smells nice. It is owned by two of the hottest men you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing.
“I want it,” you blurt out.
Johnny laughs. “Sure ya do. Let us show you everything and then we’ll talk.”
You barely manage to contain your impatience as they lead you room to room. The guest room is empty, except for some boxes that Johnny hastily promises can be moved. The closets have no skeletons (you check). You would have your own bathroom. The more you see, the more convinced you are that this would be an ideal apartment regardless of who was offering it to you, but the frequent banter between the two men (Johnny and Simon you find out) is so entertaining and inviting that it’s hard not to feel like they want you—to be their third. Roommate that is.
After every nook and cranny of the apartment has been seen, they seat themselves on the loveseat and you on the adjacent armchair, your fingers interlaced like a businesswoman about to make the deal of her lifetime.
“I still want the room,” you admit. Johnny smiles, an expression that you sense comes easily to his face. His smile falls a little when you continue: “I just have one question. Why the vacancy?”
Simon takes a measured breath. The silence grows thick as they share a glance, communicating silently in a way that only two who have known each other—who have been through things with each other—can. At length, he says: “We’re ex-military. Disabled.”
That explained the cane Johnny had been using to move around the apartment.
“The benefits were excellent until recently, when we saw a generous…cut to our monthly pay.”
You frown. “That’s terrible. Why would they do that?”
Johnny gives a breathless little laugh. His hand comes down slowly to rest on Simon’s knee. You stare, unsure what you are seeing. “Well, it happens…when you get married.”
-
“That explains a lot,” your roommate says when you spill every little detail after driving home. By the time you arrive, her insufferable boyfriend is gone for the night (thank God) so it is just the two of you, like the good old days. “Namely why two men in a two bedroom apartment are looking for a roommate.”
“I didn’t even think of it,” you groan, palming at your eyes. “Am I homophobic?”
“No, just desperate and wishful,” she teases. She has no idea how accurate she is. It’s been years—literal years since you’ve been with anyone of substance. In the meantime, you’d been happy to settle for your fingers and your toys, but there was the occasional itch that only a cock could scratch in you. Figuratively. “This is a good thing though. The last thing you need is getting tangled up with your new roommates. That’s a recipe for disaster.”
“Instead I’ll be in the middle of their marital bliss. Or lack of, depending on the day,” you suggest dryly. But you aren’t even sure how much you believe your own words. Simon and Johnny said they had been together for nearly ten years, and more than their words, you had seen them with your own eyes—the way they gravitated to each other, the way their eyes were never far from each other. The way they roasted each other so good-naturedly. They seemed like a couple who were past their seven year itch, who had grown older and comfortable with each other. They seemed like they had their shit together.
Did it make you terrible that you still wanted to be pinned between them like a bug in a science project?
“Then tell them no,” she says, sitting on the edge of your bed. You see the guilt in her eyes, and it makes you just a little vindicated. Which makes you feel terrible. “You’ll find something. I promise. You could always stay with us until you do—“
“God no. No offense.”
“None taken. I think.”
You sigh. You nudge her with your foot. “Alright, out, I need to think.”
But it takes such little thought when Johnny (affectionately added to your phone) messages not ten minutes later.
I don’t want to rush ya, but another person asked to see the apartment. Should I show them?
No way, you text. That room is mine.
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mooooonnnzz · 3 months ago
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This is kind of cringe but can you write a fic or make a headcanon list of Stan/Fords daughter getting a partner and how the dads would react? I love your work btw it's great!
2010 Toyota Corolla
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Stan + Ford HC's of their teen getting a partner!
⟡ 1,5k words
⟡ gender neutral reader!
⟡ guys i think im going through a writers block can u tell
⟡ i was doing so good too omg
⟡ i couldnt figure out a title so i used a song i was listening to ths is a song i swear
⟡ cute lil simple hc of of the oldmen!!
⟡ if u wanna be added to my taglist dm or comment!
⟡ i might like take a two day break from writing to get it working again ngl
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Stan
♡ Stan is extremely protective of you. He never shunned the idea away of you having a partner, but he never really encouraged it. He told you that it was “a waste of time,” that finding a partner at such a young age isn’t really necessary until you’re older. You didn’t bother protesting against him because at the time you hadn’t found your person yet. But when you did, you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t nervous to tell Stan about it. You knew he wasn’t going to be overly mad, but he was going to be slightly against it knowing his views on you having a partner.  “Dad?” You nervously fidgeted with your fingers. “Yes, pumpkin?” You inhale, mustering up all the courage to tell Stan. “I have something to tell you…” You draw out. Stan’s face lightly drops, already having a feeling of what this “something” is. Pausing his TV show, he loudly gulped. “I’m dating someone!” You blurt out. Stan stares at you for the longest time, the gears in his head turning as he processes what you said. “You? Dating?” He sits up from the couch. “I need a moment…” 
♡ After he recovers from the initial shock, he’s bombarding you with questions, such as; “Who are they?” “Do I know them?” “Are they smart?” And so on. You had no problem answering his questions and he had no issue giving you questions with how rapidly he shot them at you. Whenever you answered his questions, you could see the wrinkles in his forehead deepen the more you open up about your partner. This was definitely going to take some time for him to get used to. “Thank you for at least telling me, pumpkin.” He says after finishing up the whole Q&A.
♡ Meeting your partner was a must before he’d allow you to hang out by yourselves. When they came over to the shack, Stan had this whole gruff persona. He didn’t show much emotion and when he did, it was to show his distaste for what your partner said. “How long have you known [Name] for?” He interrogated, flashing a bright light to their face. “For a year now, sir.” They responded, shielding their eyes from the shining light. “Sir? I like that.” He mumbles to himself, scribbling +1 point on a notepad. When he turned over to you, he gave you a big thumbs up and a crooked smile. You couldn’t tell if it was going well. “Why do you want to date them?” Stan raised a brow, tapping the pencil on his chin. “Because I fell in love with them, sir.” Stan let out a loud “hmm,” and scribbled down, ‘very straight to the point’ on the note. After the interrogation was over, he ripped the note and gave it to your partner. “This is your score.” He said. “I guess you did good.” 
♡ He pulled your partner into a room and had a serious “talk” about something you didn’t have a clue about. But when they came out of the room with a horrified look on his face while Stan was proudly smiling to himself, you had a tiny idea of what he said. They turn around to Stan and Stan twiddles his fingers, his other hand sliding across this neck threateningly. “Dad!” You smacked his arm. 
♡ Even after Stan approved of your partner, he still wasn’t fully swayed by them. Whenever they’d be over, Stan would send death glares behind their back when they weren’t looking. But you would always catch them and when you did, Stan would sheepishly smile at you and make a heart gesture and point at your partner. He only ever came around them when Stan noticed them staring at one of the monster tourist attractions. “Whaddya lookin’ at, kid?” They began explaining how interested they were in the craft of making these grotesque monsters and Stan was more than happy to tell them the process. “Glue and staples come in handy, kid. I’ll tell you.” 
♡ It wasn’t after that, you’d find your partner and Stan creating all kinds of monsters while cackling and talking. Stan saw you walk in and his face brightened up. “Pumpkin, look at what they made! It is disgusting.” He pointed a glue covered hand to the little ugly statue of a half chipmunk and fish. “Oh? Isn’t this something…” You poke at the monstrosity. “Isn’t it amazing?” Stan laughs, impressed with your partner's handiwork. “Oh, yeah. This is amazing.” You plainly said. “I’m going to leave you two be…” Conversation erupted between the two while you walked away with a big smile to your face. 
♡ “I like that kid.” Stan says, a pleased look on his face. “Oh, I can tell, Dad.” You roll your eyes playfully. “Hey! They’re a great person. Perfect fit for my little [Name].” His fingers reached out to pinch your cheeks. “Oh, stop!” You push his hands away. “I’m just messin’ with ya, pumpkin.” Anything will and can make this old man laugh. “You might as well steal them from me.” Stan’s perked up. “Really?” He overplayed his excitement. You send him a dirty look while he barks out in laughter. “You’re gross.” 
Ford
♡ He never really thought of you ever dating anyone. Romantic partners didn’t exist to him considering how terribly alone he is. The only thing he ever said about you dating was; “Uh, yeah?” and carried on with his work and that was a good enough answer for you. Ford found out about your partner when he walked in on you and your partner cuddling on the couch. “[Name],” He clears his throat awkwardly, pointing at your partner. “Who is this?” You introduce your partner to Ford and he’s genuinely speechless. “Since when?” He whispers to you after pulling you aside in the kitchen. “Since like, last week?” Ford’s jaw falls open. “And you never thought to tell me?” You shrugged. “I asked you and you said you were okay with it.” You tell him. “When?!” 
♡ He would be so awkward around your significant other. “So…What is your name?” He’s tugging at his turtleneck, silently dying from how silent this whole exchange is. It takes him a lot of time to warm up to them, a lot of hangouts with the three of you together so he could be comfortable with them. He also uses this as an advantage and studies how they treat you and what they should improve on to make you happier. At the end of the hangouts, he’d slip in a note in their pocket. “If you want to stay with my child, you need to read the note.” He didn’t mean for it to sound menacing, but it was unfortunately received like that. “[Name], I think your dad hates me.” 
♡ Like Stan, there’s an interrogation but it’s not as serious as Stan’s. Ford would have called them over and told them to sit down. He begins asking questions and writing down their answers. “What are you hoping to do with [Name]?” Your partner blushed. “To marry them hopefully.” Ford nodded his head. ‘Disgustingly cheesy.’ He wrote it down in big words. “If I ever wanted to conduct experiments on you, would you allow me?” You jump in at the mention of that. “Okay! I think they’ve answered enough questions, Dad!” 
♡ He deep cleans the areas where you and your partner hugged, kissed and cuddled in. “Dad, what are you doing?” He has a mask and a plastic protective layer of armor around him. “I’m cleaning all the gross teenage bacteria!” You had to walk out after that.  “Is this something you’re seriously going to keep up?” Even though Ford is the smartest man alive, he has trouble understanding the true nature behind relationships. “Yes, Dad. This isn’t a one time thing and we’re over. It’s a relationship.” 
♡ Oddly enough, they bonded over their shared interest in researching the wonders of Gravity Falls. You’d often find them outside, Ford kneeled down to the ground, inspecting something while your partner has a notepad in hand, printing down whatever Ford is telling him to write. “Hey, what are you–” “SHHHH!” You looked at them with a confused look. “We need to be utter and total silence.” Ford held out a finger while he whispered notes for them to write. “Why though?” Ford pointed at a sleeping little fairy that was blanketed in a leaf. “Leave the fairy alone!” Ford opened his mouth to argue back, but his nose twitched and before he could react he sneezed, blowing the little fairy away. A silent tiny scream could be heard. “That was awesome, Mr. Pines!” Your partner held a hand out for Ford to high five but Ford was too sad to high five them back. 
♡ “Final opinions on them?” You ask. “They aren’t too bad. They could be a good research partner.” You smile. “Just don’t take them from me.” You say, nudging him gently. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 
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Taglist: @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @lovexsage, @teddycricketdream, @theilluminatidragonqueen, @raventeen @cedarmoonzz, @katharine3000
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too-many-fandomssss · 2 months ago
Text
Pent up/thigh man/rough Ford (?)
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⚠️VERY NSFW MDNI!⚠️
■Not proof read bc idgaf■
♡Contains: chubby female reader, thigh kink, biting, pussy eating, overstim, kinda perv Ford, SEX!!!
♡minors, not my fault if you get traumatized♡
《Idk what happened, this ended up being like three times as long as I was planning... but oh well I guess, I think it got a little unhinged and lost a tiny bit of plot but oh well. Much more than half is just straight smut so who cares!》
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You and Ford have been together for about a year now, and he's very open with with you. Except when it came to his newfound fetish, your thighs. He couldn't take his eyes off them, all he wanted was to be crushed between them while eating you out.
Little did he know you've caught on to his staring, and have decided to silently tease him by wearing more clothes that expose your thighs.
Tonight was your one year anniversary and Ford was taking you out for a fancy dinner, you had splurged a little on a new dress yesterday that you knew he'd like.
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pretty much this but with slits up both thighs and stop just before your underwear.
(mini skip)
You had just finished getting ready, and was waking down the stairs when you saw Ford standing by the front door in a suit with a matching red tie.
"Wow..." Ford looks breathless as he checks you out "you look gorgeous darling" he says unable to hide his smile.
"And you look as handsome as ever my love" you walk up to him, dusting off his shoulder and giving him a peck on the cheek.
Ford's cheeks get a dusting of pink at your actions "shall we?" He holds out his arm for you, and you take it smiling a at him as the two of you walk out to the car.
(After the date)
You had been teasing Ford throughout the date with small touches and mind games which were driving him crazy.
Once you both were inside he had locked the front door while you took off your heels. Suddenly you felt Ford's large hand on your waist pulling you backwards against his chest, and his warm breath on the back of your neck. He was leaving small kisses along your neck while his hands traveled lower to your thighs slowly hiking up your dress to expose your black lace underwear.
Ford had now turned to around so you were facing him as he slowly pushed you backwards, your lips connected with his he pressed your back against the counter.
"Do you know what you were doing to me back there?"
His voice is low and gravelly, his lips leaving small hickeys on your neck. You could feel his strained bulge against your thigh, you decide to tease some more to see how much he could take.
"Maybe, why don't you remind me"
You whisper into his ear nibbling slightly, while you grab his ass to keep him in place and rub your thigh against his growing bulge.
Ford responds immediately to your touch by stifling a moan and throwing you over his shoulder carrying you to the bedroom. He kicks the door open and practically throws you on the bed and starts undressing.
"Such a brat."
Ford mumbles as he crawls towards you now only in his boxers, he's sitting in between your thighs while he works the dress up your waist and pulls it over your head.
Ford whistles when your matching black lace underwear and bra. His hands start wandering up your waist to your upper back pulling you up into a sitting position on his lap. He groans quietly when you rub against his painfully hard dick and begins to unhook you bra while sucking on your neck.
"Need you to ride me"
Ford mumbles against your neck, his hands on your now exposed boob's pinching your nipples. You moan softly at the sensation, grinding down on his clothed bulge, your hands combing through his silver hair.
He moved so he was leaning against the head board and you were at the end of the bed. He had removed his boxers while he moved, his dick standing straight up and shaded red with a bead precum dripping down the base.
You're practically drooling at the sight as you slide your underwear down your thighs and off your legs.
"God you look sexy like that"
He blushes at your words not quite registering when you started to crawl towards him. You then place one leg on either side of his hips straddling him, and gently grabbing the base of his cock pumping slightly to spread the precum.
"Oh fuck baby, just like that"
Ford moans throwing his head back onto the pillow behind him, a six fingered hand gripping your waist. Once you've deemed him lubed up enough you lower your hips slightly and tease his overly sensitive tip through your wet folds.
Ford's eyes snap open at the feeling and a gasp escapes his lips which turns into a low drawn out moan, his hips bucking.
"Getting impatient are we?"
You tease. sucking on his neck before biting down, not hard enough to break the skin but just enough to leave a mark. Your kisses still down his neck to his chest eventually landing on his right nipple, circling it with your tongue.
The sound Ford emits is somewhere between a scream and a moan, while his hands are still on your waist. He finally lifts his head giving you a dirty look as if your playing unfair.
During all this you've been teasing his dick by rubbing your slick all over his lower half making sure he'll fit. Even after a year of being together and the countless times you've had sex, he's still just so thick that it's taken this long to be able to take him without much prep.
"Aww does is someone upset I know where youre sensitive?"
Your voice is almost mocking, but it turns him on anyway knowing that you can make him melt so quickly. Ford's getting even more needy now his hips bucking more often than before and his moans get whiner.
With a few more hickeys and some hand pumps you start to slide his tip inside your practically dripping hole. Both of you moan in sync at the feeling, and you slowly slide down farther till you have him fully stuffed inside you.
Ford's hands start wandering your body and over your stomach where there's a noticeable bulge in the shape of his dick. He presses on it causing you to moan loudly and arch your back, you're pussy squeezing around him.
"Ah my love you're so tight"
He manages to speak through his moans, his hips trying to buck into you but he's using all his strength to hold back as to not hurt you.
"If you don't move soon I'm not gonna be able to hold on much longer"
Ford's practically sweating from how much it's taking him to hold back from fucking into you like a mad man. His hands are helping your hips so tight you'll definitely be having dinner shaped bruises tomorrow.
You experimentally roll you hips causing you both to moan, and Ford's hips to buck into you which makes you gasp and grab his shoulders for support. You start a steady pase lifting about half way then gently letting back down, which was almost torture to Ford.
Despite liking slow sensual sex there are times where he's just so pent up he needs to release it somewhere, and why not into you?
Suddenly Ford loses his control and lifts you just to the tip before shoving you back down meeting you in the middle with a harsh thrust. His actions cause you to scream his name, nails digging into his shoulder muscles while all you can do now is accept your fate.
Tits bouncing and head resting in the crook of his neck, Ford fucks his rock hard dick into your pussy. Without warning Ford flips you onto your stomach and pulls your ass up into a doggy position. Holding your wrists above your head he lines back up and shoves his dick back into you hitting your deepest spot making you cum.
You're screaming his name as Ford fucks you through your orgasm, and keeps trusting with the same power. At this point you've been fucked stupid and all you can do is moan and try to move your hips back against his own.
After a few more minutes you notice Ford's thrusts start to get shallow and slower, which meant he was close to cumming. You do your best to squeeze around him and your actions don't go unnoticed, infact that was the last push he needed to spill his hot thick cum inside you.
"You did so good for me dear"
Ford says breathlessly, as he rolls you over to see your sweaty hickey covered body this sight alone makes him want to go again. He restrains himself by silently laying his head between your thighs leaving small kisses along them, and the occasional small hickey.
"Ford, what are you doing?"
Your voice is quiet and tired from your session earlier, however your hands make their way to his summer gray hair tugging slightly.
"Shh dear, let me take care of you"
Ford leaves a few more hickeys as he inches closer to your core, his hand wrapping around your hips again gently this time. Once he reaches his goal he licks a stripe from your entrance to you clit, the mixed taste of yours and his cum making him moan softly.
When he starts sucking your clit a shudder rips through your body, your pussy being overstimulated hightened your sensitivity to his touch. You start to squirm at his actions when he dips his tongue into your hole that's dripping your mixed cum.
"Taste so good"
Ford's mumbles against your pussy pulling you back to him when you try to wiggle away, he practically shoves his face into your pussy. He's now eating you out like you're his last meal and god do you love it, your hands are gripping his hair pulling him as close as possible.
The pleasure starts to build up getting closer to your orgasm, your legs start to close around Ford's head thighs pressing on either side of his head. His hands move from your waist to your thighs gripping and fondling them as he continues to eat, moaning into your sensitive pussy.
"Ford! Can't take anymore"
You practically scream as you cum on his face, your thighs having a death grip around his head. He doesn't really notice though, because he's too busy slurping up your fresh cum not caring of he suffocates between your thighs.
When your legs relax he lifts his head, his hands still on your thighs, his whole loose face is glistening with cum and saliva. He gives you a doped or face like he's gotten high of your pussy, leaning his face into your right thigh he sucks a small hickey.
"I've wanted to do that for so long my love"
He speaks like it wasn't already obvious he had some sort of fetish for your thighs. You laugh at his words smiling down at him, you squish his face with your thighs.
"Oh I know honey"
You let him go and let your legs fall flat along with the rest of your body.
"Let's get you cleaned up darlin"
(After he cleans you up)
(Aftercare king)
He had picked out your favorite pair of pajamas and made sure you wouldn't be sticky in the morning. You both were now cuddled up with each other, you being the little spoon and Ford being the big spoon, you had said your goodnights and drifted off to sleep.
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