#my fic: falling for them

[w-m-heart]

Flufftober Day 7: Forever Sounds Perfect

Fandom: Moon Knight Pairing: Moon Knight Boys (Steven, Marc & Jake) x Reader Word Count: 1472 words Summary: You and your darlings go to a wedding, and suddenly all that happiness is exactly what you want for your future with them. In that happiness, you can't help but...pop the question. 

A/N: The reader in this might skew slightly more feminine because I essentially wrote it around the outfit, but no pronouns are used, so it's still gender-neutral

“You look gorgeous,” Steven murmured. 

You looked up to see him standing in the doorway, watching you with a soft look of adoration that made your heart skip. 

He was right though. You looked stunning. You were wearing a mulberry chiffon pantsuit that made you feel like a powerful boss. You’d brought a shawl for the day if it ever got too cool, but Jake had convinced you to keep it off. It was a good decision. Between the halter neck and sleeveless design, and the earrings, you felt unstoppable. Gorgeous too.

You held out your hand to him. “You look pretty breathtaking yourself,” you said with a soft smile. 

They truly did. Jake had chosen their suit, and every time you saw them in it was like the air had been sucked from your lungs. The jacket was a soft blue that made you want to run your hands all over it and the shirt beneath flowed over them like a second skin. Steven had made sure the suit was perfectly tailored to their build, and you’d thoroughly thanked him for it. 

Everything from their pants—which curved deliciously over their fine ass—to the tie Marc had long since loosened, fit them like a gorgeous glove. Half of you wanted to rip it off and just devour them, while the other half wanted to just stare at them for eternity. 

“You think?” Marc fidgeted with their tie beneath your gaze, loosening the knot further. Every second of this “monkey suit” business was making his skin crawl, and the fact that he was still here made your heart melt. 

You tugged him closer, winding your fingers together, until he stood between your legs. You tipped your head back and smiled at them. Reaching up with your other hand, you loosened the tie until it hung around their neck like an odd scarf. Then you took their other hand in yours and took a second to just adore them.

“I think it is taking everything in me to not tear that suit off you and show you just how much I like it.”

The tension disappeared from his shoulders and a spark of mischief entered his eyes as he smirked. “Oh yeah?” Jake drawled. 

He dropped one of your hands and trailed his fingers along your jaw, tipping your head back. He pressed his thumb to your bottom lip and his eyes darkened as your tongue flicked out. “And how do you plan on doing that, mi sol?”

Your own smile turned wicked.

Jake’s grip on your chin loosened as Steven fronted. “Not here, love,” he murmured with a fond and exasperated chuckle, even as his eyes never left your mouth. “We’ll get kicked out.”

Worth it, Jake mouthed and you grinned as you twisted in his grip to press a kiss to his palm. 

But still you pulled back. Steven was right. You were at the wedding of one of your work friends, and she would never forgive you if you disappeared for a quickie on her porch swing. The ceremony itself might have been over, but seeing as the reception was being held in the barn only a few metres away—well, her murdering you would spoil the evening.  

With a quiet laugh you pulled your darlings onto the swing next to you. They wrapped their arm around your shoulders and you curled into their side. The sun was setting and you could see why this farmstead had been chosen as the wedding venue. The day had been the perfect blend of summer and fall, but the sunset was sublime. The last rays of sunlight filtered through the trees and lit the entire world in a golden glow.

“...the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Marc murmured, and you looked up to see him gazing down at you. 

He wasn’t talking about the sunset.

You blushed hard at the love in his eyes and his words. You buried your face into his shirt so the sight wouldn’t kill you immediately. 

Their fingers curled beneath your chin again, pulling your face up. You swallowed thickly at the adoration in Steven’s eyes. His breath caught as he looked down at you and you felt yourself falling in love all over again. 

The four of you had been dating for almost two years now, and not a day went by where you didn’t thank your stars. Not one, not two, but three gorgeous men loved and adored you for who you were. All your good sides and bad sides—even the worst ones you usually kept hidden. 

The four of you had grown so much in the time that you’d known each other, and your heart skipped to remember how you’d met and fallen in love with each and every one of them. They were your darlings, and you adored them more than anything else in the world. 

“How’d you get to be so stunning, love?” Steven whispered, eyes wide as he drank you in. “And how’d we get so lucky?” 

“We must’a done something great in our last life,” Jake muttered. His thumb made a pass over your cheek that made you shiver. 

Your cheeks hurt with how hard you were smiling, but you couldn’t help it when they were saying stuff like that. Frankly you were the lucky one to have them, even if they’d never agree with you. 

Instead of passing out from happiness like you half wanted to, you cupped their cheek. “Thank you, darlings.” 

The love of all three of them crinkled the corners of their eyes as they smiled at you and dipped their head to meet you in the middle. It was a soft kiss, full of everything you didn’t need to say. It was a declaration of adoration and a promise of forever. Your heart skipped a beat and you leaned forward, fingers slipping into their hair.

Cheers broke you apart with matching gasps. You all looked over to the barn where you could see the bride and groom doing shots. You chuckled and dropped your head onto your darling’s shoulder. Their arm curled around your waist and they pressed another kiss to the crown of your head as you watched the wedding party getting more raucous with every shot.

After a quiet moment, a thought came to your mind and you blurted it out before you could convince yourself otherwise. “Do you think that could ever be us?” Your boys froze beside you and you hurried on before you lost your nerve. “You know, married.” 

You didn’t know what made you ask it, but now that you had, it was all you could think about. The four of you, bound together for all of eternity. A ring on your finger, a matching band on theirs. Walking down that aisle to where they waited for you. Suddenly that was all you could possibly want. You, them. Forever. 

“Which one of us are you talking to?” Jake asked, his voice low and tight.

You looked up at them, eyebrows furrowed. “All of you.” 

Did they really think you would choose between them? How could you? How could anyone?

They swallowed thickly, eyes darting over your face like they were searching for a lie. You pressed a hand over their heart and insisted, “All of you. I can’t have one of you without the others.” You licked your lips, suddenly desperate to get them to believe you. “There isn’t a part of your system that I don’t completely adore. I love all of you and I want forever, for all of us.” You swallowed, suddenly terrified their hesitation was a ‘no’. “If you want that too, that is.” 

They made a strangled noise and surged forward to slam their lips against yours.

This time the kiss was rough, desperate, like they couldn’t get enough of you. Their hands cupped your jaw, angling your head to deepen the kiss. They devoured you like it was the first and last time rolled into one. And you reciprocated with every atom of your being. 

Eventually they pulled back, resting their forehead against yours as you all gasped for air. Both your chests heaved as they cupped your cheeks and you gripped their lapels.

“Forever,” Marc gasped, pressing closer. “Yes. Yes.”  

You sucked in a sharp breath, eyes wide as your heart thumped in your throat. “Yeah?”

Steven closed his eyes, a tear sliding down his cheek as he nodded frantically. “Forever. All of us. Yes, love.”

Jake swallowed as he fronted, clutching you closer. “We’re going to need a better proposal than that, amor,” he said gruffly and you laughed, your own eyes overflowing with tears. Then he broke into the most beautiful smile you had ever seen. “But forever does sound perfect.”

And from that moment, forever would always remind you of sunsets and porch swings. 

Thank you to @flufftober for the prompts! 💜

[what-am-i-doing-in-this-fandom]

Fic Idea where Fiddleford helps Stan rebuild the portal, but Stan finds out that Fiddleford has a wife and he's like

"You have a WIFE?? That DIDN'T marry you to steal your car and money???? What are you DOING here???"

"Yeah, well.... She's better off thinking I'm dead somewhere....."

"A WIFE. That LOVES you. Get outta here and go explain yourself, Idiot!!"

"She and our son shouldn't have to deal with--"

"YOUR SON???!!?!!??"

Anyways, so Stan helps Fiddleford reach out and explain himself to his wife, but expresses that he wants to keep being in Gravity Falls, so his wife and kid go to live with them in The Shack instead.

Blah blah blah, bonding happens, Stan bags Fiddleford AND his wife and becomes a step dad, God bless 🙏

[mikimuun]

until the end of time

-

sketched as a cover for a playlist i put together. i did my best to structure it so it feels like it has an underlying narrative flow, so check it out if you wanna experience billford: the musical lmao

[paintedcrows]

Some Fords! (and Martin K Blackwood is also there)

[socvincjpeg]

doodles i made while first reading tbob!! Plus heres some magma stuff from a gf server

[ckret2]

I'm only asking this because you said you want to draw some Billford and now I'm thinking about it. It seems to me that Bill would bring Ford extremely upsetting presents (like a cat) and Ford (like a cat owner) would be disgusting/horrified, but charmed despite himself. Am I correct? Also, would the same thing happen in reverse

Yeah that's basically where they're at in canon lol. Buuut my goal's to write them struggling & clawing past their toxic history to reach a place where they work.

And when they work, I think usually Bill gives Ford gifts that should horrify him, but that he only finds charming, because these two freaks are on the same wavelength. And same goes in reverse.

(there's another five pages under the cut)

In billford as "toxic exes who get under each other's skin because they know each other so well," having them constantly bickering and getting on each other's nerves works just fine. But when they're actually a couple, I like to see them like each other. Enjoy each other's company and do things for each other that they appreciate.

Even if it's batshit by outsiders' standards, it needs to work for them. Bill knows when Ford would love to be cursed and Ford sees weird gross body parts and knows "Bill would want this."

[choccy-milky]

ty to @icedmatchawoatmilk13 for sending this to me! i may have gone a bit overboard but this was so much fun to fill out/think about BAHAHA💖 ill still never get over how perfect the song sarah smiles is for them...the lyrics AND the fact that its an alliteration...im gonna do an animatic about seb and clora to that song one day i swear 😩 ((blank template by oakwolves!))

[intothehandsoffate]

Hi hello fellow fiddauthor enjoyers. Here’s a fiddauthor comic with no fiddleford in it.

Bonus doodle under the cut:

I imagine this is roughly how said proposal went. Not that Ford is telling Stan that(Stan is going to find out immediately when he starts grilling Ford for details)

[starry-bi-sky]

Blood Blossom Au: Baby's First Commissioner Meeting :)

TL:DR This Post: Danny (orphan) gets poisoned with blood blossom extract by Vlad. He runs away from him and ends up under the care of one Pre-Robin Battinson Batman! Starry is loudly pushing her batdad agenda.

(Also known as "Late At Night, When The Nightingale Sings" on my ao3!)

This was a fun rough idea I've been sitting on for weeks, thinking about how Commissioner Gordon and Nightingale's first meeting might go.

---------------

Commissioner Gordon likes to think that he's adjusting to the new normal of Gotham very well, -- the new normal being grown men running around dressed like bats, in military-grade strength body armor, committing acts of vigilantism, -- and slowly, little by little, he was no longer being surprised when this new normal pops up out of the shadows like the world's most terrifying daisy. His shaving lifespan thanks him for it.

....

The kid is a surprise though.

Granted, he seemed to be a surprise to the Bat too.

There's been a string of murders lately, -- which, in Gotham, is kind of like saying there's been another storm during monsoon season. And there's just been another; in some dilapidated building down in south Gotham, with the broken, boarded-up windows and mildew-crawling walls to match. The victim is a man in his thirties, multiple gunshot wounds to the chest, left in the center of the room for the blood to pool out around him.

The place is already secured when he arrives, the building swarmed with officers and the forensic detectives. The Bat emerges shortly after he does -- or, he might've been here the whole time, hiding someplace dark and shadowy. For his own sanity, Gordon doesn't think about it too hard.

The kid is a surprise, and he appears like a bolt of lightning.

He shows up in the middle of a conversation Gordon is having with the Bat.

A whistle, sharp and loud, slicing through the air, meant for open air rather than a confined space. Gordon's ears pierce and protest the sound, and the solemn, murmured chatter floating through the room abruptly cuts off like the swing of a gavel. As he turns towards the sound -- as they all do -- he swears, up and down, that he sees Batman's shoulders jump, just slightly.

At the source, perched on the window, is a boy. A boy in a gray-blue scarf and an oversized black hoodie, one that hangs off his frame and has ace bandages wrapped around the wrists in some attempt to cinch the sleeves. The hood is up, big like the rest of it, and threatens to swallow the upper half of the boy's face whole in the fabric. What upper half Gordon can see, is smeared with some kind of opaque, black face paint. He's holding onto the side of the frame with one hand, on his hip is a grappling hook. A familiar grappling hook.

Gordon has multiple questions, and his officers tense up.

Martinez puffs up, brows furrowing as his face shapes into a frown. Shoulders rolling back. "You can't be here, kid--"

The reaction is immediate, like a spark to gunpowder, the boy yanks his fingers from his mouth and his mouth twists into a scowl. Head snapping over to Officer Martinez, his hood manages to stay on but Gordon swears that as he bares his teeth, the glint makes them look sharper than they should be. His voice is rasp and quiet and harsh; snappish in its hissing; "Put a fuckin sock in it, Martinez. I'm not stayin."

Martinez reels back, and the boy immediately veers his attention off him. Like a switch, his demeanor drops. Despite half his face being covered, his mouth twists into a cringing, apologetic smile. Slanted and off-beat, embarrassed. It'd be disarming if this wasn't Gotham, and if he didn't just hiss at Martinez like he was about to bite his head off.

"Sorry." He whispers, voice deceptively polite and softer now. Gordon has to strain his ears to hear him. "I was looking for him."

He points his finger towards-- Gordon? No, Gordon follows the direction, and finds himself looking at -- the Bat.

The Bat, who always looks stiff as a pole, now looks even stiffer. Somehow. Well, the explains the grappling hook attached to the boy's waist.

"What are you doing here?" The Bat says, gruff and unable to completely smother the stumble of surprise in his tone.

The boy still holds a sheepish smile, and slips off the window ledge. His feet hit the creaky boards with a near-silent thud, the Batman finds his feet and rapidly begins crossing the room.

Gordon notes the slight tremble in the boy's legs as he straightens. He adjusts his scarf, which droops close to his knees now that he's standing, and slings a backpack -- how long has had that? -- off his shoulders. When the Bat reaches his side, he does as he always does, and looms over the boy like a spectre. A threatening mass of shadows cloaked in all-consuming black. Standing next to him, the boy looks teeny in comparison.

The Bat is a man who terrifies even the most hardened criminals, Gordon has seen grown men shiver in fear at the mention of his name. And yet when the boy looks up at him, he doesn't even flinch.

Instead, his sheepish smile melts away like ice under the sun, holding only traces of his previous embarrassment. It remains as a shadow on his face, a small upturn at the corners of his mouth. The boy pushes his hood back just enough to reveal glinting, ice-flint eyes surrounded in tar-black face paint. He holds the backpack up with one arm. "You forgot this."

[circusmilkk]

new system just dropped

[ghostbeam]

Mech pilot yuuta and his mech that’s incredibly possessive over him. He takes to you as a handler almost immediately, excited for the help after his last few handlers were scared off. You’re not allowed inside, your constantly dodging malfunctioning limbs and faulty wires, but you’re not one to back down, and gaining her trust is just as important as gaining his.

Rika only realizes how important you are to Yuuta the day after you spend the night with him, and he’s left alone in the morning with an empty bed and a broken heart. You’re his handler. You’re not supposed to leave him. Not ever.

She lures you into her chest one night, faking some sort of lighting malfunction and allowing you inside for the first time. She keeps you inside all night, enduring all your yelling and banging on her insides to be let out, a nice gift for Yuuta.

[transsexual-necromutilomaniac]

yeah yeah swap spit with that freaky nerd with the substance abuse metaphor

[knockknockwhosthereartistism]

Currently in love with this fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58602034/chapters/149311126 and decided to make some art of it <3

[hellsquills]

Disclaimer: I know about the duffle bag Filbrick threw at him, but you can ignore that if you want

My thoughts below the cut! (this turned into a whole ass fic lmao)

My personal headcanon is that Filbrick is as much of a coward as he is of an asshole. Therefore, he wouldn't have kicked Stan when he did in canon. Probably not for a while after that.

However, he does try to send him to military school. He keeps talking about how this kid needs to learn discipline and respect, and if he's not gonna bring money to the house, then he should at least bring some honor to his family.

Stan obviously does NOT want to go. Not only because it's a pointless war ("what've the vietnamese done to us anyways?") but because he remembers his mother's face when Shermie got drafted and he will NOT make her go through that hell again. Also, he doesn't wanna die!!!! Hello?????

He talks it out over the phone with Ford, who's obviously just as against it as he is. He tells Stan that, if he gets into a PhD program, he could skip military. Stan laughs in his face. It'd be easier to jump off the plane without a parachute.

And so, he comes up with a plan. When he goes to take his physical, he tries his best to botch it. If he is bad enough, if it looks like he can't do it, maybe he won't have to. Unfortunately, the recruiters are far too used to this by now, and they don't buy it. Stan goes home with a recruitment letter hidden in his jacket.

Everything goes downhill after that. He runs away from home, changes his name several times, does some crime here and there... The military is after him, and it doesn't take rejection kindly.

Stan stays out of contact with his family for a few years. He can't risk getting them involved in this mess. They don't deserve it. So he just leaves, without saying a word, in the middle of the night. No phone calls, no notes, nothing. Not even he knows where he's going. But if it just looks like he abandoned them, maybe they'll hate him. That will make them sound more believable with the police. They aren't covering for him, because they genuinely have no idea where he is. It's the best way to keep them safe.

In that time, Ford doesn't stop looking for him. He finds him every once in a while, but only his phone number, and he knows that could give away his brother's location and get the family in trouble. So, against his deepest instincts, he doesn't call.

One, three, five, seven years pass. Stan has been around almost all the country, and is genuinely considering leaving it. Maybe going to Mexico, or Colombia. Those sound nice. Maybe they'll be nicer to him.

He's passing his time and thinking about this in a small town restaurant in wherever he's in (somewhere he's not banned from, yet), when a family enters. He doesn't make eye contact, but he can't help but stare at them: a man and a woman, probably in their 50s, with 7 kids; one must be older than him, the second one around his age, the third one a little younger, the fourth one a teenager, and the last three between 10 and 15, no more. Except for the last three, they're all taller than him, even the mother, and they have various degrees of blond hair. Their clothes (overalls and plastic boots) suggest they must work in one of the farms he's seen around the state. They don't wear any accessories, except for the glasses that the father and four of the kids have. They're talking loudly and laughing. They look exhausted from a morning of hard work. They seem happy. They... look nothing like his family, and yet, he can't help but think about it.

He can't help the sob that comes to his throat. It's loud and messy from trying to suppress it, which obviously makes it worse. He covers his mouth immediately, and at that point he notices the tears that have run down his cheeks. "Great", he thinks, "that will make it easier to hide, for sure".

He doesn't move. He wants to escape, but that will draw even more attention to him, and he hasn't even paid for the food yet (normally he'd leave without paying, but the old waitress was kind enough to give him some extra food when she saw how little he ordered). He settles for not moving, lowering his head and covering his face, hoping that no one heard (unlikely) or cared (very likely).

"Ya'lright, son?"

The voice startles him. I wasn't very deep, but it was close enough to send his body into immediate danger mode. He looks up at the man towering over him, who's standing in front of him at a prudential distance.

"Y-Yeah, yeah, no worries."

He hates how broken his voice sounds. He's spent more than enough time sweet-talking his way out of trouble, he should be better at this by now. The man looks about as convinced by it as he is himself.

" 'lright then. Can I help ya?"

Damn villagers and their welcoming demeanor. If he wasn't a wanted man, he would appreciate it. But right now, it couldn't be worse timing.

"Come get ya food, kids!" The waitress' yell yanks him out of his thoughts.

"No", he blurts out, and he turns to the man. Least he can do is show him some respect and look him in the eyes. "I'm fine, thank you."

The man smiles lightly and nods. "Okay. Welcome to the town."

Stan watches as the man goes back to his table. He wishes he had been more polite, the guy was just worrying about him, but he can't afford it. They already know his face, he can't risk anyone else recognizing him-

"Sweet Mother of God almighty."

Stan turns to his right. One of the kids, the one about his age, is looking at him like he just grew a second head. He's frozen in place, his eyes wide as plates behind thick glasses. He doesn't say a word, and it's getting increasingly unnerving. Was the bruising on his face still visible? Maybe it's more apparent in broad daylight than in the shitty light that last motel had in the bathroom.

"I'm sorry, I- Can I ask your name?"

The fuck?

"No", answers Stan. Considering how nice his dad was, this guy is pretty rude.

"Son, leave him alone." The mother seems to have manners too, good to know.

The guy does pretty much the opposite. He comes closer to him, until he's right in his path, blocking his exit. That can't be good. Stan feels trapped.

"Are you Stanley Pines?"

Well, that's about it.

Stan tries his best to stay still. This guy doesn't look like a cop, not even an undercover one. But he knows his real name, so maybe someone in his family or friends works in the police; or worse, in the military.

"Listen man, I don't know who you're talking about, but that isn't my name. See?" He reaches for his wallet. He pulls out an ID, with a very clear Jackson Cage on it. He makes a mental note to change it soon, just in case his hunch is right and this guy has connections. "Now, if you excuse me, I'd like to pay for my food and leave. Move."

Stan is already on his feet, but the guy hasn't moved. Stan looks him up and down, trying to appear threatening despite his face probably still being a little red from before. He also gauges how feasible it'd be to escape if things turned bad; the dude is taller than him, sure, but he's also as thin as a toothpick, and by the anxious look on his face, he doesn't seem eager for a fight. The real problem would be evading the restaurant's staff and the other costumers, which include eight carbon copies of the guy in front of him. Probably better to try to de-escalate the situation.

"I- I can't let you leave. Please. I know who you are."

This man is making it really difficult to believe he's not a cop.

"No, you don't. I'm new in town. Move."

"Listen, I-"

"Move out of my way."

"I know your brother."

The words are like a bullet between his eyebrows.

"You look just like him-"

Against his better judgement, he quickly grabs he guy and pins him to the wood in between the booth benches, arm to his throat. If he knows Ford, he knows too much. God he just wanted to have lunch.

The commotion is immediate. He doesn't break eye contact with the guy who's grabbing his arm, whose strength is frankly surprising. He can hear, however, the screams from the dad and the siblings, as well as a couple of gasps from the other costumers. This is not going to go well, but fuck that. He's escaped worse.

"Stop!", the guy shouts as he keeps Stan's forearm from blocking his airway. "Don't hurt him! Don't get closer!"

It takes Stan a second to process what he said. The first part, sure, who wouldn't shout 'stop' when you're being attacked? But the second half doesn't make sense. Is he protecting him? The attacker?

Whatever it is, it works. The family stops in their tracks, still very ready to attack if needed. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the three younger kids moving closer to their mother. For a split second, he feels a pang of remorse for the scene he just caused.

"Hang up the phone, Clarisse, it's okay. Please."

Stan looks in the direction the guy was talking to. Right behind him, the waitress reluctantly puts the phone down.

He looks back at the guy. He looks a little shaken up, probably from the impact his back (and his head?) made with the wooden plank, but he doesn't look scared. He almost looks... sympathetic? Stan is confused as hell.

"I know who you are", the guy whispers, low enough for Stan to hear alone. "You're Stanley Pines, and you have a brother named Stanford. I know him, okay? He's my friend. I met him a few years ago in a quantum physics congress and we've been talking ever since. He told me about his family in New Jersey, and about you. About how he hasn't seen you in years, and how he was trying to find you, to no avail."

Stan is gradually loosening his grip on the guy's neck, who takes a deep breath. He should know better, but- shit, hearing that Ford was looking for him was not what he expected. Even if he doesn't know yet if this guy is lying out of his ass, it's enough to make him doubt.

"I know you were called to Vietnam. He told me. I spent a week with him in his place when he found out, he was unconsollable. When you ran away, he called me. He knew what it meant for you and he thought he'd never see you again, whether you got caught or not. All because of that stupid war." Stan is now trembling a little, he knows it. This guy must know it too, with how close they are. If he stays here any longer he'll break down, but he can't move. Anything to hear his brother's name a little longer. "I know what it's like. Three of my cousins were drafted last year, and I know at least one of them won't be coming back home. Please... let me help you."

Stan meets his eyes. They're green and brown-ish, not unlike the immense fields he's seen in his last journey, the one that led him to this town. With the years, he's learned not to trust beautiful eyes, because they are better at hiding. These ones, however, seem serene and honest, just like his words, and he can't help but believing them. This guy, whoever the fuck he is, knows just about enough.

Stan lowers his right arm. The guy still has his hand on it, but this time is much less defensive and much more comforting. He doesn't complain.

"My name's Fiddleford McGucket, and I'm gonna help you find your brother."

______________________________

Essentially, after this Fidds calls Ford as if nothing happened (per Stan's request, since he's still paranoid about the police tracking his calls) and asks him to come to Tennessee. Ford argues that he's very busy and all, but Fidds convinces him in the end.

Obviously the twins have a dual breakdown and cry their heart out. In this AU they're much less emotionally constipated lol

Ford tells Stan that he's gonna build a house in a small town in Oregon as a part of his research, and asks him to move in with him once it's finished. Stan, of course, accepts.

In the meantime, Stan stays in the McGucket farm and helps them out as a way of laying low. He has a great relationship with his family, and they're very proud of him for what he did (i believe that the McGuckets are hippies at heart, and they're VERY anti-war, especially when it already took three of them)

I don't know how much of the canon storyline would this AU follow, but it's pretty much your average Mystery Trio AU with some different backstory

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

still unwell over the prospect of Howdy slowly putting the pieces together and having a complete mental breakdown over it. Laughingstock edition!

[arttsuka]

I LOVE Teen Stan and Ford, it’s sad they don’t get drawn enough, so thank you so much!

Does Ford ever help Stan when he gets overstimulated? Or maybe when he has a rage response and suddenly starts crying and calls himself stupid?

Here's the other post with Ford