#that sixer was going to come back (he needs to come back) because they all love him (sixer loves him doesnt he?)

[huginsmemory]

Just. percolating thoughts about Bill, denial and his lies are lies. Bill as a character I'd say is characterized by deep deep denial. He's a character that's both aware and immediately not aware of his feelings and his situation; it's all very doublethink. It's about denying everything and drowning it all out (yeahhhhh big partier? Alcohol and drug abuse? Totally a result of being healthy; not to mention the dissociative episodes he APPARENTLY GETS???).

Because essentially, hes constantly warping his perception of everything occurring around this glass tower he's built of who he is, a ruthless, unfeeling tyrant of a monster, akin to a god (and beloved by humans when he deigns to charm them). This persona is something that he's made in response to his own belief that he's a monster, his own deep insecurities for being a freak and wanting to have proper connection, care and vulnerability with someone that he's lacked. It's a persona built upon self destructive tendencies, denial and the pursuit of pleasure for the purpose of drowning out anything uncomfortable, that he's practiced for trillions of years. And at the same time these insecurities that built this persona are all deeply denied in the way he'll deny that Ford meant everything to him but also when asked if Ford meant nothing to him, backtrack. He's both aware and not aware; he'll never have a thought of 'oh I loved Ford' because that is IMMEDIATELY repressed. He can't even admit that. It doesn't fit who he's supposed to be, it's vulnerable, and we can't have that. This triangle is more repressed than a fucking gay Catholic priest. He's both emotionally literate and completely illiterate because any emotions or situations that don't fit his fictional self gets immediately suppressed/skewed in perspective.

And that's how he's both good and terrible at manipulation, because he knows how to play people and can be very good at it, but his denial gets in the way. That's why you see him not talking about his dimension unravelling to Ford to ask him to make the Portal, instead of pulling the rug out under Ford; because it's vulnerable, it doesn't fit 'him as a monster' and even if it would get his way he can't do that. He mentally cannot even conceive of asking that and can't even in a way to himself accept that his dimension is unravelling and he can't do anything prevent it, can only take over earth instead. And he assumes that Ford will simply just bow to his will because that's what's supposed to happen, right? And it's the same as his lies about all the people he contacted over human history that were annoyed by him; he's too far in denial to even acknowledge that they didn't like him because hes supposed to be loved by all he tries to charm, that's why he puts the pages in to TBOB because he thinks it makes him look good, even if anyone looking at that goes 'yeah that's not what's happening'.

And this is all the most obvious with what he did with his dimension, his guilt around it because if pressed he will never admit those feelings, and he doesn't even admit it too himself; in fact when it's brought up by others such as time baby he gets angry, because his denial over the situation becomes questioned. And it's only ever one instance, that you see Bill admit to vulnerability, to admit to being actually aware of any of all these underlying feelings, and that's the moment that he shares unprompted about Euclydia with Ford, in response to Ford's own vulnerability... in which he indirectly calling himself a monster.

And it's all so fascinating, because if his denial is ever properly cracked enough, oh BABY you know that glass tower is going to shatter, everything is going to come down like a house of cards, and Bill will be left in the wake of everything that he's done, with nothing to shield him emotionally. And so isn't it better to be in denial? To deny he killed his dimension? Doesn't it hurt less than to admit all along it was guilt, it was insecurity, and that after his dimension burned, he's razed civilizations to the ground in denial and self-destruction?

post previous to this (similar vein)

[senipsenipsenip]

Eventually, the scrapbook ended. The sun had fallen beneath the horizon hours ago, and some nagging part of Stan's brain was telling him kids shouldn't be up this late. Unless they're breaking into a mini golf course. He jerked his head back, furrowing his brow. That was...oddly specific.

"Grunkle Stan?" a little voice - Mabel - questioned. He looked down at his knee to see where his great-niece was sitting, eyeing him with no small degree of concern. "Are you okay?"

He ruffled her hair. "'Course, Pumpkin. Just trying to shake some of those memories back in the right place, huh?" He gave an exaggerated shake of his head, smacking the side like he was trying to get water out his ears. "Got a straggler! Hup! There we go," he grinned, lowering his hand. "Good as new!"

Whatever he said must have been the right thing, because Mabel's eyes had lit up like he'd told her he was turning the Mystery Shack into a cotton candy emporium and Dipper had a sudden death grip on his other leg.

"Geez kid, you're clawing through my pants here," he grumbled, making no move to take away his nephew's hand. "Haven't you chewed your nails off by now? How're they so sharp?"

"You called me Pumpkin," Mabel whispered.

"You remembered I chew my nails," Dipper said in awe. Then he frowned. "Hey, how come Mabel gets a nice one and I get a gross one."

Stan shrugged. "'Cause she's nice, and you're gross."

"Ha! Zoom!" Mabel pumped a fist in the air before collapsing back into Stan's lap in a fit of giggles. Dipper rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he settled back against Stan's other side. Ford stayed perched on the arm of the chair, smiling fondly, but eyebrows still drawn together.

"What's the matter, Sixer?" Stan frowned as Ford grimaced at the nickname. "What?"

Ford waved off Stan's concern. "It's nothing. It's..." Ford sighed. "I'm sorry. It's not nothing. I just don't want to..." He pursed his lips.

"Don't leave us hanging." There was a shake in Stan's voice, and Mabel shifted closer to her Grunkle.

"I'm glad this has been helpful to you," Ford muttered. "But...you don't remember everything. Not really."

"Whaddya mean?" Stan asked. "I remember you, the kids, Soos. The freeloading jerk who steals my sandwiches." Stan glared at Waddles who simply oinked and started trying to eat his shoelace. Whatever. Free pass for jump starting his memories. He better not get used to it.

Dipper sat up. "Yeah, what do you mean, Great Uncle Ford?"

Ford frowned. "I just... Hm." He seemed to be weighing something in his mind before turning to Stan with some resolve.

"Stanley," he began slowly. "I hope you appreciate what I'm about to do for you."

"That's not terrifyingly ominous," Stan muttered, glancing around at the available exits.

"Do you remember my - " Ford cleared his throat. "My first kiss?"

Stan froze. "What?"

"My first kiss, do you remember it?"

"I was there?"

"Yes. Unfortunately a lot of people were."

Mabel squealed beside Stan. "Ooo! Romance memories! How old were you? Was it high school? Was it a high school romance? Was it star-crossed love between the nerd and the cheerleader?"

"Mabel, I think Grunkle Stan is supposed to figure that stuff out."

Mabel sat up and stared at Stan expectantly. "Come on Grunkle Stan! I need details!"

Stan shook his head, nose wrinkling like he'd smelled something rotting. "How should I know? Who asks their brother that sort of thing?"

"Precisely." Ford spoke with the same air of professionalism he adopted when explaining his theories, despite the alarming shade of red his face was becoming. "So far it seems that your memories are returning based on external stimuli, whether that be Mabel's scrapbook or our own prompting."

"So, wait, you're saying I won't get all my memories back?"

"No! No that's not what I'm saying," Ford held up his hands. "What I'm saying is we can't expect them all to come back at once. And at the risk of turning the Shack into the set of the Johnny Carson show, we'll keep asking you questions."

Stan frowned. "What if I don't wanna remember my brother smooching some babe?"

Ford turned redder. "You do."

"I do? Geez, I was a perv."

"In the meantime," Ford pressed. "It's important to take note of any stimulus you experience that makes you remember something. Even if it doesn't paint the whole picture for you, we can fill in the blanks. Or prompt you to remember more details."

Dipper grinned. "And then we get to learn more about the secrets you've been hiding, old man."

Stan lifted his hand to give Dipper a well-earned noogie, but paused before he could make contact. "Old man...did you...did you tell me to shut up one time and then punched me?"

Dipper balked. "What? No I - "

"YEAH no WAY that'd be CRAZY!" Mabel interjected a bit too loudly. "Anyway let's get back to that kissing story, huh?"

"Actually Mabel, I don't know if I want to hear about Great Uncle Ford kissing anybody either."

"Oh come on, Dipper. Are you jealous that The Author got someone to kiss him and you didn't?"

"What? No!"

"Some girls like nerds."

"Mabel I don't want to think about anybody in this room kissing anybody."

"You could learn from him Dipper! Figure out how to wield your nerdish charms. Soon you'll be like a kissing machine!"

"MABEL -"

The twins were silenced by a sudden gasp from Stan. His eyes were wide and unfocused, his jaw hanging open as if someone had knocked the wind out of him.

"Holy - " he choked out softly.

"Grunkle Stan?" Dipper sat up fully. "Are you okay?"

Stan didn't acknowledge him, eyes darting around minutely.

"Grunkle Stan?" Mabel asked softly. "Did you remember something?" Moisture had begun to gather in the corners of Stan's eyes, one of his hands covering his mouth as he began to shake.

"Great Uncle Ford?" Dipper turned to Ford, worry stitching his brows together. But Ford didn't look worried. If anything, he looked like he wanted to disappear through the floor. His face was an alarming shade of red, nearly identical to his sweater. Stan let out another choked sound.

"Are you..." Mabel trailed off. "Grunkle Stan are you laughing?" He was quaking now, his hand falling from his mouth to reveal a wide, open-mouthed smile. He began slapping the arm rest with his free hand, eyes squeezed shut and tears rolling down his cheeks. Dipper and Mabel shared a look. Sure, they'd seen Stan laugh before, but it was usually a loud guffawing thing. They'd never seen him like this. They shared a tentative smile. Either this was the hardest they'd seen him laugh, or he had really snapped.

Ford seemed to pick up on their worry. "He's fine," Ford offered. "He's just...remembering my first kiss." At Ford's words, Stan let out a loud cackle, burying his face in his hands.

Mabel cocked her head. "But what's so funny about -"

"You children must be exhausted," Ford blurted out, standing abruptly. "Come now, go wash up then head to bed!"

"Oh no you don't!" Stan shouted. He wiped tears from his eyes, still smiling. "You're not getting out of this one, pal!"

"Stanley, this conversation is hardly appropriate for children -"

"You brought it up!"

"And now I'm putting a stop to it."

Stan grabbed his head. "Ooooo ow," he gave an exaggerated groan. "My poor head. The mean man won't let me share my memories so they're all going away!"

"Stanley, please don't joke about that."

"I'm fading away - "

"Stanley."

Stan crossed his arms. "You know, you really know how to take the fun out of amnesia."

"Yeah! Come on Grunkle Ford," Mabel pouted. "You can't just leave us hanging!"

"Yeah!" Dipper joined in. "If it's a funny story I want to hear it."

Ford spluttered, pulling at the sleeves of his sweater and looking around for an exit.

"Come on, Sixer," Stan chimed in. His eyes had gone soft around the edges. "I think the kids deserve a funny story."

After today went unspoken. Ford met Stanley's gaze, already feeling his resolve melting before he even turned to his grand-niece and nephew's inquisitive smiles.

"Alright," Ford conceded. "But to maintain the integrity of the exercise, Stanley will be the one to tell it. Whatever he doesn't remember, I can fill in."

Stan rubbed his hands together. "Oh boy, this'll be good."

"I regret this already."

"It's alright Great Uncle Ford," Dipper patted his shoulder. "We have a whole summer's worth of stuff we get to make fun of Grunkle Stan for. This just gives us stuff to use against you now. Levels the playing field."

Ford frowned. "Is that meant to be comforting?"

Dipper shrugged.

"Alright you two, enough yapping." Stan grinned, leaning forward in his seat and spreading his hands out in front of him. It was the same way he started his campfire tales. Mabel and Dipper met each other's eyes and smiled.

"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl named Kiss-Bot..."

[clock-06]

There’s this idea of a dynamic for BillFord that’s been causing havoc in my skull and begs for escape, so it’s gonna get to today.

Basically Ford is more self aware and catches onto the fact that Bill has fallen for him, and starts manipulating him back for his own goals. Cause Ford was already a mad scientist, there’s a reason Bill thought Ford would join him in weirdmaggedon (go re-read the Rudolph thing, he’s pretty unhinged)

Ford was nerdy as hell, and definitely took a psych class in college, and starts using operant conditioning on Bill. While Bill does have feelings for Ford, he still sees him as lesser, because he’s Human, and figures Sixer doesn’t have the capacity to manipulate or disobey him, and by the point it’s an active plan, Ford has conditioned him enough to not even check.

It’s a slow start, but Ford figures out that Bill is more willing to do things for him when he’s given rewards for it, ie, calling him “Muse” tends to make him put more effort into things, he has favorite sweaters that Ford wears and Bill will be more attentive to what Ford wants or needs when he’s wearing them. Eventually, Ford starts using these as rewards when Bill is forwarding Ford’s goals instead of his own, and very soon has a personal and trained dream demon.

By the time the Portal is fully built and operational, Bill has basically told the Henchmaniacs “Hey, we’ll do that apocalypse thing after IQ and I have a little research trip across a few dimensions, I’ve got to make sure he stays safe cause he’s my ticket to the portal” and they’re all like “excuse me fucking what no just kill him” and after the first few protesting comments end with the utterer in dust, the rest of the gang just shuts up, most of whom vow to get Sixer killed while he and Bill are traveling together.

Because everything’s going according to plan, Stanley isn’t called to the Shack to hide the journals, but rather to protect the shack and journals while Ford is traveling. It’s a very confusing letter, and by the time Stan determines that it’s actually real, he barely gets there in time to watch his brother disappear through the portal before it autolocks and shuts down. He still starts up the Mystery Shack because he feels weird about the money Ford left him, unsure if it’s actually real, and needs a way of income. The twins still do come to visit for the summer, and Stanley still legally becomes Stanford as a cover story, but it’s not a car crash this time because Ford left behind an intricate plan for how to erase him without leaving any trace and Stan goes “well I’m wanted for a lot of crimes, I’ll just use this for myself.”

There is more Bill memorabilia around the house because Ford wants to be able to keep an eye on what Stan is doing, and Dipper does find the third Journal, hidden in the floorboards beneath his bed, and the pages on bill contain a detailed account of his powers as well as invisible ink containing the plans for Weirdmaggedon that Ford knows Bill has. This leads to Dipper fucking hyperventilating and trying to warn them all about Bill, which is very awkward when he comes back through the portal, lying contentedly in Ford’s fluffy hair.

TLDR: Ford realizes two can play the manipulation game and plays with Bill’s feelings for his own benefit, and Stan gets the shack because Ford goes through the portal to keep researching and writing his journals with an overpowered dream demon happily pressed under his heel

[fangirlingpuggle]

hey in the ford-thinks-dipper-and-mabel-are-his-kids-with-bill au how does weirdmageddon happen? cause no way ford ONLY asks dipper to stay cause he thinks they're both his kids. like does he get a reality check an realize hey,they're leaving at the end of the summer, panics cause if he thinks the twins parents are implanted memories to explain why bill put them here then *where are they going back to*, tells them both to stay and then mabel runs off because shes already freaking out about needing to grow up and visiting gravity falls for the summer is great but living there full time, effectively moving out of her parents house forever is just. WAY too much WAY too fast and WAY too grown up for her? or if you already had an idea cause you had that post about weirdmageddon and the bubbles id love to hear that!! like for reals it would be SICK to see what you came up with

Hi there, I really like that idea. I think things are more chaotic cause Ford wants Stan to give him house and life back but also wants his kids here and Stan still sees kids as his only family (And still thinks Ford is being crazy 'Sixer you can't keep these kids here they aren't your')

I think maybe the kids overhear that Ford thinks they're his and Bills kids or at least Mabel does and her confusion as she hears For justify everything about Dipper birthmark, the fact all the weirdness since the twins came here, that they find this stuff so easily even found the journal right away, the fact they had never met Stan before and they were sent across the country to stay with him all summer how they're 'parents' hadn't contact checked in on them ect.

Mabel... is super confused is Grunkle ford right? Id he there dad? Is Bill there are other dad? Are they human? What are they? Are their parents not their parents? Is that why they're fighting and getting divorced because they were never in love and together it was all an illusion? We're her 'parents' even married or together or just two people Bill used for this illusion/scheme.

She's scared to go back, scared to stay, scared about wheat happens next even more so then before as she doesn't even know whats real anymore. When Bill comes disguised as Blendin it's not endless Summer he's saying he can use rift to show exactly what happened what they are what's true.

Mabel's bubble is kinda similar but she doesn't know what happening outside she just thinks she dreaming just asleep just a lucid dream. (And Bill is slowly leaking powers into her) Dipper is with Ford and Bill lets him run off (After all he knows he'll play hero and go 'save' Mabel) Dipper goes in Wendy doesn't she's knocked out and then 2 bubbles, Dipper thinking he's saving Mabel.

Bill is manipulating Ford and totally agreeing 'Yep our kids' and is trying to get Ford to agree so one happy family.

The thing is the kids are getting powers in bubbles and are able to connect though mindscape, realize they're both trapped and bust out Mabel explaining what she heard and Dipper is shocked.

They find Grunkle Stan and the others and start explaining... Stan is facepalming 'Oh god damn it you kids believe that now to??' HOW AM I THE ONLY RATIONAL ONE IN THIS FAMILY?

[thegrimreaper-probably]

Feed me

Gravity Falls x monster reader (plant)

Headcanon/drabble

Ford originally found you when he first came to town

He was walking around the town, when he noticed you.

Bought you right away, I mean definitely isn’t a plant person but something told him he needed that plant

You “died” after a week of him trying everything to keep you alive. While he was distracted by Bill, he cut his hand.

To which you drunk and brightened up. (You now have a taste for his blood and will scream/play dead till he gives in and lets you have some from his hand)

When he writes in his journal he definitely mumbles, which you picked up, and rather fast you learned how to talk

Scared the shit out of him (Bill saw the whole thing and thought it was hilarious)

Your first words were “Feed me.”

Bill laughed, Ford was confused/amazed

FiddleFord is scared of you and refuses to be near you.

You have tried to eat him, to which Ford put you in a ‘time out’ (he moved your pot out of the sun, with you facing a corner)

Bill placed you back and now randomly teleports you near FiddleFord

Once the whole portal opening happened you were left with Stan

Which is when he fed you twice more to get you big, in his eyes a giant plant monster = money

Learned the hard way why you were on a strict diet (you ate a person and a small yappy white dog)

You’re moved from the mystery shack to the living room

Once Dipper and Mabel come around you are then placed in the shed, he was not risking you eating those two

You loved the shed, plenty of small rodents to eat

Once Bill is summoned again he takes you.

Why? He still butt hurt about sixer (it’s either one of those situations where the ex takes the pet or he secretly thinks of you as his and Ford’s kid. Custody battle)

Stan freaks out because he just goes to the shed to feed you and you’re gone.

Bill gets rid of your diet, you are strictly feed humans, henchmen, and time agents (only the finest)

When Ford comes back, finds out about you missing he beats Stan up again

Once weirdmageddon happens you are then placed next to the throne made out of golden humans

Bill does let you outside and eat humans once he’s done with his throne of people

Ford thinks Bill took you for some greater purpose bullshit

Once the twins win, Ford hits you with the shrink ray

You’re back to baby size :( but upside Ford has made a fake blood formula(it’s not good at all and you’ve gone back to just nipping at him for blood, did make a new formula till you liked it)

Mabel decorates your pot with stickers and made a sweater. Says ‘Oopsie daisy’

Dipper just talks to Ford about you since he doesn’t really want to trust a human eating plant

Soos gave you some beef jerky (you spit it back at him)

Waddles’ screams at you, and that goat outside has tried to eat you multiple times (not that you haven’t tried to eat the goat as well…totally)

There’s a part 2, 3 (actual story) if you want a headcanon there is a second one, just click the tags or go to profile

[halforresterluvsford]

I suppose this is a prompt since you asked for asks: Stancest and it’s their first time having sex, but it’s not teen Stancest it’s post show old men Stancest!

Yesss! I love Sea Grunks Stancest! Their first time with each other being after they’ve lived whole other lives is so enticing! The endless possibilities of both fluff and angst too! Thank you for the request!

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Poindexter-Stanford, wait, I need to adjust my back pillow.” Stan pushed back from Ford’s lips, a hand reaching back to push his orthopedic pillow back into place.

“Oh, yes. Sorry, Stanley. I should have asked-“ Ford sounded winded, his voice graveled, but no less concerned for his brother. He removes his lubed fingers from Stan’s pliant hole, his other hands softly rubbing Stan’s flank.

“Nah, don’t worry about it, Sixer, happens all the time. I should probably not use it, ‘cause uh-you know. It’ll probably get knocked out a’ place again when you start fucking me.” Stan wiggles his eyebrows with a smirk, laughing at Ford’s expression.

“Nonsense, Stanley! I want to ensure that after we-“

“Fuck?”

“Have sex, you’re still able to walk!” Ford crossed his arms, staring down firmly at his twin.

“Well, ain’t the point of sex to ensure that no one can walk afterwards?” Stan indignantly replied, an eyebrow raised

“Not because someone threw their back out or slipped a disc!” Ford threw his arms up in exasperation. “I want this to be pleasurable for both of us, Stanley, and I can’t have you bedridden because we weren’t careful enough-“

“Alright alright, Stanford! We’ll keep the back pillow! Now come ‘here!” Stan pulls Ford down, wanting to shove his tongue in his mouth a lick away all his unnecessary words. He wants to tangle their tongues together and-

“Ouch!” Their noses smushed against each other, their teeth clanging, and their glasses knocked into each other. Ford rips his off and, with all the carefulness he can muster, sets them on the bedside table. He does the same with Stan’s, rubbing his stinging lips. He looks down at Stan, who looks stunned. Now their night is ruined and they’ll never have sex. Maybe they’re doomed to never be intimate, fate disagreeing with their consanguineous relationship. He sees Stan open his mouth, probably to call this whole thing off.

Stan, surprisingly, burst out laughing. Big belly jostling laughs as he throws his head back. Ford feels his face heat up, embarrassment and irritation coloring him in their vibrant colors.

“What is so funny!?”

But Stan keeps laughing, and his laughter and exuberance got to Ford, causing him to crack a smile and a snort, laughing slightly as his twin full-on cackles against him, his larger stomach jostling Ford with every laugh. This causes Ford in turn to laugh even more, until they’re both just sitting on their bed, laughing in the nude.

“Seriously! Stanley, why are you laughing?” Ford asks, still slightly chuckling.

“Nothin! Heh, nothing! I’m serious, Stanford,” Stan brings Ford’s face down, knocking their foreheads together and nuzzling their noses together, “‘S just, I don’t know. I’m glad that we can still laugh about sex mishaps at our age. I’m glad it’s not just all serious, ya know? I like it-makes me feel comfortable. Even more comfortable with you.” Stan doesn’t know what got over him, his words cause his own face to feel on fire, a red matching his twins spreading across his face.

“Stanley…” came Ford’s soft reply before he starts peppering Stan’s face with kisses, coaxing small giggles from him, “Thank you for feeling comfortable with me. You have no idea how much that means to me.” He kisses Stan’s forehead.

“Yeah, yeah. Alright, enough snappiness, Sixer! It’s time for horniness! I’m still ready and rearin’ to go!” Stan spreads his legs, separated by Ford’s hips, even farther, a hand reaching down to tug on his still hard cock, “think ‘m still pretty stretched, just lube up and go for it!” He throws a smirk at Ford, who, having been four fingers deep in Stan’s ass just minutes ago, complies, dribbling cold lube on his own erection. He hooks one of Stan’s legs over his shoulder, pressing the other one down and out towards the side. He uses his free hand to position his cock, slowly sinking in his twin, angling his hips up to hit that special gland he had been playing with not too long ago.

“Ngh!” Ah. Found it. Ford moves slowly, gently rolling his hips into Stan’s clenching and hot hole. Aiming each thrust to hit his prostate.

“Ford! Ford-fuck! Right there! Ngh, please! A-ah, ke-ep going! Faster!” Stan demanded, needing his brother to fuck him harder and faster. They can do tender and loving later, but this is their first need and Stan needs it.

“Stanley! Shit-so good! You feel so good around me, you’re so good for me!” Ford feels Stan clench around him and hears what could be described as a mewl escape his throat. He could work with this. “Fuck, you sound so sweet, Stanley, and it’s all for me. I love your sounds, how sweetly you clench for me. How good you are for me.”

“F-Ford! Hah! Yes! Yes ss-sso good for you! Need you so bad all the time!” He reaches his own hand down, stroking his aching cock. His other hand grasping for Ford’s by his hand, grabbing and intertwining their fingers. His five bracketed by Ford’s six. His moans are almost punched out of him by the sheer force of Ford’s thrusts, a wet and audible “plap plap plap” echoing throughout their room between Stan’s moans. “Never stop, Ford! Please I-Mmmph!”

“Moses you look so pretty when you touch yourself for me, Stanley, such a good boy for me-Ah!” Stan clenched so hard at that pet name, Ford almost came, “You like that, Stanley? You like being good for me? You like it when I fuck you and call you my good boy? I need you to say it. Say. It. Stanley!” he punctuates those last words with harsh thrusts, aiming directly for Stan’s prostate. These pointed thrusts cause Stan to wail, his legs interlocking behind Ford’s back and his stroking hand speeding up. His balls feel so tight, he feels like he’s about to explode, but he needs Ford to tell him to cum. He doesn’t know why, but he knows he won’t be able to otherwise. Look at him, in his 60s and still learning new sex things about himself.

“I-I like it! I like being your good boy! I-oh fuck, Ford I’m so close! I love when you fuck my ass and call me your good boy! Please, please can-fuck ah-I cum!?” Ford didn’t expect Stan to ask permission, but he’s not going to argue against it. The thought of being able to deny Stanley to maximize both of their pleasure is an interesting thought, but he’ll have to table it for next time.

“Fuck yes, Stanley. Cum for me, stroke your pretty cock and cum for me like the good boy I know you are. Like my good boy!” Ford can barely move with how tight Stanley clenches down on him. He watches, barely able to thrust into Stan’s ass, as his twin cums all over his stomach and hand. He watches that prominent vein on the underside of his dick throb, his cock twitching with each pump. Ford’s thrusts prolong Stan’s ejaculation. And Ford isn’t far behind him, the stimulation of Stan’s warm insides clenching around him and the visual of his coming undone getting to him. He drops Stan’s hand and steadies both hands on the bed, focusing all his energy on chasing his own orgam, grunting as he pounds into his brother, drinking in the soft and overstimulated moans being breathed into his ears.

“Stanley!” Ford says with a strangled cry, dropping his head down into Stan’s neck, thrusting once, twice more before he buries himself as deep as he could inside him brothers warm hole, feeling Stan’s slowly softening cock on his abdomen as he finishes inside his twin. He feels like electricity is shooting down every nerve he has, his breathes coming in short bursts. It takes a few moments before he comes back to himself. He pulls his face out of Stan’s neck, looking at his brother closely to make sure he wasn’t too rough, but it looks like he’s also in the middle of catching his breath and coming down from his high.

Stan startles a bit as he feels six familiar fingers caress his face, turning his head to face his twin. Soft kisses are speckled across his face, soft reassurances that he can’t make out are murmured in his ear. He slowly comes down and back to his senses, feeling Ford’s arm wrapped around and holding him, his other hand rubbing his face and brushing his hair behind his ear. He looks so soft. Stan can’t resist leaning in closer and pressing a soft and deep kiss against his lips.

“Hey,” Ford whispered softly, “welcome back. Are you alright?”

“I’m better than alright. You okay, Sixer? It wasn’t too much was it?” Stan worried, hoping it felt just as good for him as it did for Stan. That he was getting off from Stan’s old and fat body. He knows Ford said he loves Stan’s body but what if-

“It was great, Stanley. Better than anything I’ve ever felt before. You were wonderful.” He grabs and pulls their blanket over them when he sees Stan shiver. The temperature is much cooler on their naked skin without the heat rushing around and between their bodies. “Don’t doubt yourself, I’ve told you this before. You couldn’t be less than perfect for me. How could you? You’re my brother, my twin, my other half. We were formed for each other.”

Man, if that didn’t want to make Stan cry. But he’s a man, an old one at that, and he doesn’t cry from a few sappy words that mean way more than an “I love you” to him. He just buried his head in the hair on Ford’s chest and squeezes his eyes tightly closed, breathing in Ford’s musk. He doesn’t think he can manage words right now. Just hugging Ford close is all he can do. He doesn’t think Ford minds if the arms squeezing tightly around him and kisses pressed to his hair are of any indication.

Between the soft rocking of the ship on the ocean and his brother’s breathing, Stan finds himself drifting off, surrounded by Ford’s heat and sent. And he couldn’t ask for more.

Ford finds himself thinking similarly; thinking that this was his Perfect World. Being with Stan, loving and being loved by him, holding him closely like this, sleeping with him wrapped soundly and securely in his arms was always his dream, deep down. This was Stanford’s perfect world.

[the-universal-sun]

Yooo i just found ur account and i just followed u immediately! So umm what about stan getting injured and ford being all protective twin and treats stan's wound? It would be great

So sorry this is late! It's around that time, you know? There's not many wound treatings in here, but there are some healing kisses! I hope that's okay! Please let me know! As always, I'm open to constructive criticisms and helpful advice!

Thank you so much for the ask, anon if you're still here. I hope you enjoy!

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Stan giggles as he slides around the freshly cleaned floors in his new fuzzy socks. Sixer's making lunch and he got bored waiting for him, his brother was taking forever! Stan's sure it's fine, Ford never said he couldn't slide around on the floor. Besides, he likes how he slides against the floor, it feels like he's skating! But without the scary wheel shoes. He makes little "wee" sounds interspersed with his giggles, slipping and sliding around on the floor until-

Crash!

He slipped and fell on to the floor, smacking his face, and lays there in a stunned pile. It takes a moment for what happened to set it, Stan blinking as he takes it all in. Then, he can't hold it back, his face and nose hurt and he fell! He starts to sniffle, his lips trembling, before he starts to cry loud and pained wails, more upset by the shock of crashing than by slamming his face into the ground. He wants his brother to come and kiss his ouchies better and tell him he's going to be fine. He continues to cry, wondering why Ford wasn't immediately coming to his rescue and comforting him, he wants a hug and a cuddle! This is too much for Stan to deal with alone!

"Stanley! Stanley what happened?! Are you alright?!" Ford came running in, boots stomping against the ground and the slide of the rubber against the wood almost makes him fall, his arms windmilling to steady himself, heading towards his Little brother. He takes stock of the situation, kneeling down and looking for any scratches, bruises, or blood, finding only a red and sore looking face sniffling back at him with piteous tears. "Lee, what happened? Your face looks sore, did you trip?" Ford asks gently, wiping the tears from Stan's face. "Your nose doesn't look broken, no bruising to indicate such, no swelling, no blood. Just some redness in the area encompassing your nose and forehead." Ford mumbles more for himself than for his brother, they both know that if it was that serious, Stan wouldn't still be regressed. He brings an arm around his brother, letting him lean and have his weight supported by Ford's body, rubbing his arm softly, trying his best to console Stan. His poor brother just looks so sad.

Stan weighs in his mind of letting Ford know the whole truth or not. It's not a lie to say he tripped and fell, because he really did, and Ford didn't ask about what he was doing before he got an ouchie, so it can't be that important to him. Right? All he asked was if Stan tripped and if he was okay, and he doesn't want to hear a lecture about "safe play" right now, he wants a big hug from his Sixer. So, Stan just nods and points to his face, his eyes still full of tears and lips wobbling. It doesn't even hurt anymore, but now he needs comfort, he went through such a scary situation. He needs some healing kisses right now, please. He snuffles some more as Ford coos and kisses his face, easing the stinging with his kisses. He must have magic kisses, Stan thinks as he closes his eyes and leans more into Ford's body and almost climbing into his lap, because his face AND heart feels a million times better.

"There there, Lee. You're alright, yeah? No more tears?" Ford wipes Stan's remaining tears, smiling softly as his brother fully climbs into his lap, nuzzling his neck. Stan's sobs, while big and loud, were always easy to console, mostly being performative or from something relatively minor. It's the silent sobs he has to look out for, but it seems like, aside from being a cuddle bug, Lee is alright in the grand scheme of things. Now about his tripping...."Hmm, it's no wonder you slipped, Lee, these floors are terribly greasy, the wax must not have dried properly...what do do...perhaps I should get a carpet, that way any trips are damped by the fabric..." Without warning, Ford suddenly stands, bringing Stan up with him, holding him off the ground and walking towards the kitchen with him. Stan holds tightly onto Ford's shoulders and looks at him, wide eyed. What's sixer doing now?

"Until the wax dries, Lee, I don't trust that nasty floor to not trip you again, so I'll be carrying you unless we're on carpeted flooring, is that alright?" Ford asks, depositing Stan on a kitchen chair, making sure he's steady before he heads back to finish their lunch. Stan nods with a big smile. He LOVES being carried by Ford, it doesn't happen as often as he wants, stupid old man backs, but every time it happens, Stan's overjoyed, Sixer's arms make him feel so secure-he's never scared of being dropped by his big brother! Realizing that he couldn't see Stan's nod, he hums his "yes that's fine" hum, they came up with special hums if Ford couldn't see Stan to get an answer. He swings his feet at the table, waiting for lunch to be done and hoping his brother sits next to him.

"So, Lee, what were you playing before you tripped?" Ford asks, back still turned.

Stan starts to sweat.

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 10

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

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

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

WARNING: This is a long chapter

First - Prev - Next

Ch.10

“Do you remember how you came to Gravity Falls in the first place?”

“I was just passing by.”

“Yes, but this town is isolated, and you have no means of transportation.”

“Trainhopping, I was hiding on a train for two days I think, maybe three? Decided to jump off here.”

“Do you know why you decided to do that here, and not anywhere else?”

“...”

“Stan?”

“It’s funny, specs - a couple months back, I’d already been with my pal Rick for a while, right? Just one heist, escapade, or criminal venture after another, for seven months straight. And it was great while it lasted, but then he asked me if I wanted to stay with him in another dim- someplace far away. And I wanted to, ya know? There’s always been this itch in the back of my mind that I wanted to go around the world on some grand adventure, and he was offering that to me on a silver platter. But I told him no.”

“And why was that, Stan?”

“...It’s stupid.”

“I wouldn’t call any of your reasoning stupid, I’m not here to judge you.”

“...I always wanted to go on an adventure- but something was missing. It’s like- I dunno if it’s intuition or some spiritual mumbo jumbo, it’s like I’m looking for something. But I don’t know what I’m looking for.”

“Do you have an idea what it could be?”

“A part of… me? I’m missing something. Not just my memories- but something else. I think I might have made a promise, I just… don’t remember what it was, or who I promised to. I guess I’ve been drifting around trying to find it.”

“And you felt it was in Gravity Falls?”

“I don’t… I don’t know. There’s something weird here… I just wanted to check this place out, is all.”

“I see. What did you say your relationship with this Rick was like?”

“You don’t need to be jealous, F. We were just friends. Okay, maybe we were kind of an item for a week at most, but that guy isn’t just self-destructive; he’s like a train that wrecks onto a freeway, he can never just destroy himself, he has to wreck the people around him too and create an absolute shit show. Even I have a limit with that shit.”

“You really need to stop putting yourself down like that, Stan. You only ever seem to say negative things about yourself, it ain’t good for you.”

“There isn’t anything good to say, stretch.”

“Don’t sell yourself one egg short of a basket, now. Y’know, your-. Uh, Stanford was telling me that you’re quite clever. He used a trick to get you down here in the first place, but he also said that he wouldn’t be able to trick you again.”

“I should have seen his fake-out coming… I’ll give it to him, it was a good one. But I’m not going to underestimate him, because crazy like his should never be underestimated. What’s he up to anyways? He went to that room that’s always locked.”

“That’s his private study. I believe he goes there when he wants to be alone.”

“...Didn’t he live by himself? Why did he already have that?”

“Can’t say, maybe it’s a quiet and calm space for him.”

(...)

“HE HAS RISEN BABY GIRL.”

“Bill, please stop calling me that. It’s unprofessional.”

“Come on Sixer, at least let the Goo Goo Dolls soundtrack play.”

“The what?”

“Ooop! My bad, it’s not 1998 or 2024 yet. How can I help you today, Fordsy? You haven’t called me in a few weeks.”

“There’s a mindscape I need to access.”

“Oh boy, it’s not usually you who wants to poke around other humans' brains, always prattling on about ethics and consent. What’s the occasion?”

“...You know everything I know when we’re in the mindscape, you already know the answer.”

“Yes, but I still want you to say it out loud. Clearly and concisely, so your dialogue can be read on screen.”

“... I need to get into the mind of my brother, Stanley. He has amnesia, and our leading theory is that it’s due to psychological trauma. But he has been through so much trauma we’re having trouble isolating the definitive event that would have started this.”

“And why wouldn’t he just share that with his beloved twin brother?”

“He does not remember me.”

“Oooh, then he is just like you! Isn't it just precious when twins are twinning?”

“I never forgot about him.”

“Oh Sixer… You might as well have.”

“Just take me to his mind, Cipher… Please.”

“Anything for you, baby boy!”

SNAP

(...)

“So your memories are only clear to a certain point?”

“Yeah. Rick found me wandering around the woods in a ‘catatonic state’, and snapped me out of it. Everything before that… I can remember being on the street, I can remember all the stuff I did, maybe out to a decade? But there’s a lot of holes, lotsa different names I used. And before the streets? Nothing.”

“And when did Rick find you in the woods?”

“What month is it?”

“June.”

“Last May - so about 13 months?”

(...)

“Okay Fordsy he hasn’t made a deal with me so we can’t go too deep, or his mental defenses are just gonna shove us out.”

“Bill, I already know that, why are you explaining it to me?”

“You know; doesn’t mean they know. Unless this is a re-read. In which case; welcome back. Glad you loved or hated it the first time.”

“You are… Beyond comprehension, Bill Cipher.”

“That’s what you love about me though.”

“You have my begrudging, professional respect.”

“From your aspec ass, that’s practically love.”

“Aspe-”

“Oooh! Lookie here, a memory door opened up. He must be opening up to someone right now. Let's barge in haphazardly.”

(...)

“Okay Stan, this might be difficult. But if you ever feel distressed, let me know and we can try grounding techniques okay?’

“You got it, F.”

“Now close your eyes, think back to when you and Rick parted ways.”

(...)

“Sanchez?! How does Stan know-.”

“You know this hilarious crossover character? I already know the answer, but for no particular reason I need you to tell me out loud how you know him.”

“His wife Diane was part one of my PhD programs. She was always so bright and pleasant, but her husband was a nightmare when she brought him around. He was always saying that school wasn’t for smart people, and rubbed his inventions and intelligence in our face.”

“And how is she these days?”

“She passed away from a garage fire a few years ago, her and her little girl. I almost sent him a condolences, but he was such an unpleasant slimebucket I could not make myself do so.”

“Come on Stan- think about it! You, me, Bird Person, Squanchy-  sci-fi adventures, drugs, bitches. Whattaya say? Let’s ditch this dimension, there isn’t anything for us here anymore.”

“Dimension-?”

“Shh, Fordsy, just let it play out.”

“I… I can’t Rick.”

“Why not?”

“There’s… something here.”

“Did you remember something?”

“I don’t remember who, but I think I’m looking for someone.”

“Stanny-Boy, we’ve been through this before. No one knows you, everywhere we’ve been, ‘cept for the fake names. You should just cut your losses.”

“Wherever we go, we go together.”

“What was that-?”

“Just the distorted voice of his subconscious. It’s probably not important.”

“I’m sorry. But there’s a piece of me missing, and I think it’s still here in this dimension somewhere.”

“You know your credits don’t have monetary value here.”

“I know.”

“And I can’t leave you a space cruiser. You’ll have to walk or steal a car.”

“Either is fine. I’ve done it before.”

“Stan… Are you sure?”

“Here. Take all my credits, you’ll get more out of it than me.”

“You want your dusters back?”

“Trade me.”

“Wait, you don’t want your transdimensional watch anymore?”

“If the pigs catch me, I don’t need them asking too many questions.”

“You know that doesn’t just give you dimensional coordinates and time zones, right? There’s a pulse wave in it that can shatter force fields.”

“Pft, what are the chances I’d ever need that?”

“Ooof, he really fumbled the bag there.”

“My muse, please.”

*Rick takes the watch and gives Stan a pair of brass knuckles*

“Thanks Rick… Hey, it was nice while it lasted.”

“Hope you find what you’re looking for.”

“I hope you find that bastard, Prime. Give him the hell he deserves.”

“...Stan?”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck you.”

“I’ll miss you too, pal.”

(...)

“Alright, how are you feeling Stan?”

“So far so good.”

“Okay, now let’s go further back. You said your first clear memory is when you met him, let’s go back to that.”

“I was in the back of his shi- iiitty car, I felt like I’d just smoked an entire carton of cigarettes, but in a bad way..”

(...)

“It just- stopped?”

“He’s remembering something else. Just look for another door.”

“Here we go.”

“Wha- where…?”

“Oh hey you’re awake.”

“-’re, you?”

“You’re one tough son of a bitch, y’know? Most of the people I tase end up dead, but you just passed out.”

“You… tased me? Are you a cop?”

“Hell no. I tased you because you attacked me in the woods. Damn near ripped my head off.”

“The woods..?”

“You were wandering around in a catatonic state, can’t tell you how long.”

“A what state?”

“This isn’t going anywhere. Can you tell me your name?”

“It’s…? I... Malone. Wait. It’s- Stan.”

“Stan Malone huh? My name’s Rick Sanchez.”

(...)

“Stan keep your eyes closed. I want you to try to remember what happened before this.”

“Alright…”

“What’s something you can remember? Something you saw, felt, heard?”

“My chest felt really tight…”

(...)

“What is this?”

“Ahh. A pit memory. This is something his brain wants to forget, but can’t permanently delete.”

“So it is a repressed memory?”

“Yes. He’s trying to think about it… but unconsciously, he really doesn’t want to.”

“What happens if we jump in?”

“Sixer, where's your sense of adventure? If it gets too dangerous I’ll just pull us out.”

“Do you swear?”

“Just gimme the word.”

“Which word?”

“Let’s go with ‘defenestrate’ this time.”

‘W̷̷H̷̷Y̷ ̷I̷̷S̷̷N̷'̷T̷ ̷I̷̷T̷ ̷W̷̷O̷̷R̷̷K̷̷I̷̷N̷̷G̷?! ̷W̷̷H̷̷Y̷-?’

S̷̷C̷̷R̷̷E̷̷E̷̷C̷̷H̷

‘̷C̷̷a̷̷n̷’̷t̷-’  

‘̷t̷̷r̷̷a̷̷p̷̷p̷̷e̷̷d̷’  

‘̷c̷̷a̷̷n̷’̷t̷ ̷b̷̷r̷̷e̷̷a̷̷t̷̷h̷̷e̷-’

*brief flash of a pile of burnt paper ash in Stan’s hands, which are shaking*

“We can’t stay here Fordsy, he’s closing up again.”

“Just one more second-!”

“Might as well, it’s [--- ---- ------ - ---].”

“[--- ---] going to die here. Stan[--- -------- -----], if you don’t [---- - ---- ---- --] in the next minute you will die.”

“That voice-?”

“We’re leaving now, Sixer! DEFENESTRATE!”

SNAP

(...)

“Stan? Stan calm down-! It’s okay! Remember where you are.”

“C-Can’t breathe-”

“Yes you can, just breathe with me. In- out. In- out. Just like that. There we go.”

“I’m sorry Fiddleford, I can’t do it. I can’t. I can’t. ”

To be continued…

[duchess-doodles]

Uuh so some more on my take on human Bill. He basically highjacks Nick's body and uses some good ol ancient rune tattoos to make him into an immortal vessel only he can possess. Some more ✨lore✨ under the cut because I have waaaaay to many thoughts about this

So Nick is just some random guy who's passing through Gravity Falls, and he stops in the dusk 2 dawn for some chips or something

Ford happens to be there at the same time. He has the very normal, very insignificant thought of seeing some dude across the aisle in a convenience store and thinking "hm. cute guy" (which I might add is a thought he's barely conscious of. My guy has layers of representation to deal with but that's a different post) and moves on with his day

Bill on the other hand, the jealous fuck, reads this in Ford's brain and has the calm, collected and controlled reaction of ghosting ford for a few weeks to go fuck with this guy. For "fun." Definitely no reason other than that nope Bill doesn't care that Sixer spent 0.2 seconds looking at another guy whaaat no why would he care

Eventually Bill manages to get Nick to make a deal with him and gets his hands on Nick's body. Nick is obviously Not Ok with this so Bill rips out Nick's eye, using the body's pain to deter Nick from trying to get it back and because he's a crazy bitch like that and also because I want my Bill design to have one eye sue me

Then Bill does all the hair dying and piercing, and then uses spellbinding tattoos to secure his new flesh puppet :D now Nick's body can only be possessed by him (thereby keeping Nick out permanently so Bill can come and go as he pleases, without having to worry about fighting for the body's ownership every time he wants to use it) and doesn't need "looking after" the way a normal human body does (so he can leave it in a closet for weeks on end and it'll be fine)

Bill then rocks back up to the mystery shack and tells Ford he can manifest a human body sometimes. Just flat out lies to him. Like the liar he is <3

He stashes the body under the porch or something when he's not using it

I have more thoughts on this but I'll save it for another post lol

[woobiedoovo]

AYO DO Urm... have any more thoughts about erm ,....... pregnant stan . hehe .. -journal420

Hello Journal420!!! Yes, I have many more thoughts about pregnant Stan.

So, Stan honestly really enjoys being pregnant. Mainly because of how much Ford panders to him during the time. He mentions how his feet hurt, Ford is already peeling off Stan’s shoes to give him a foot massage. Stan mentions a craving he has at 3 a.m. ? Ford is marching to the nearest convenience store, eager to get Stan whatever he needed.

Of course there are plenty of things Stan doesn’t enjoy. His weight, something he’s always been insecure about, has skyrocketed. It makes sense, of course. It happens when you’re pregnant, but no matter how many times Ford explains to Stan that it’s completely natural and it’s actually healthy, Stan feels embarrassed by it. Ford on the other hand LOVES Stan’s weight gain. His love for big hairy men is something the Stancest community talks about all the time and I heavily subscribe to that belief.

Ford thinks Stan looks absolutely beautiful. His skin is glowing, he looks happier and happier everytime the babies move, and Ford just can’t help but fall a little more in love with Stan everytime he goes on a rant about how pricey baby supplies are.

When the twins are born, Stan and Ford are over the moon. Stan is crying, Ford is crying, the babies are crying, everyone is crying.

They name them Evangeline (Ford’s pick) and Elodie (Stan’s pick). Then they all live happily ever after!

(This is making me think about Stan having to breast feed… 👀)

Now I know what all of you were REALLY waiting, so here’s some kinky stuff :)

Ford 100% has a breeding kink. This is his dream scenario come true, and he lets Stan know that every time they have sex. Which is a lot more often now that Stan is pregnant because his hormones are going wild.

(Ford is just always horny for Stan, so it’s a win/win situation for him!)

He refers to himself as “Daddy,” and Stan as “Mommy,” much to Stan’s displeasure. But it’s hard to complain when you’re being fucked within an inch of your life by your horndog brother.

Stan is able to completely embrace his pillow princess behavior and just lay down and take it.

While Ford is rutting into him like a madman, Stan gets to lay on his back, hips supported with pillows, and enjoy the ride.

Ford makes it his mission to get Stan to see how beautiful he is, so he makes Stan repeat compliments to himself.

“Say how handsome you look, Stanley.”

“Aw, come on Sixer. Let’s not do this right now.”

“Say it Stanley.”

“I look… handsome, I guess.”

“Don’t worry Lee, I’ll just make you say it again until you believe it.”

If Stan’s not crying then Ford isn’t done. He needs his gruff baby brother overwhelmed with love to the point of tears.

[tempusedax-rerum]

All references in TiBiBiBaP

Under the cut you'll find all the little references and allusions made in Then it Becomes, it Becomes, it Becomes a Problem because I kept track of them and hey, why not, right?

It's going to include some stuff that probably seems painfully obvious. And did I miss some? Most likely, yes.

Obviously this contains MAJOR SPOILERS lol

Chapter 1:

Bill-proof suit -> The Book of Bill (TBoB from here on out)

Post-it notes -> TBoB

Shave-and-a-haircut -> classic call-and-response

“Have you come to steal my eyes?” -> S02E12, a Tale of Two Stans

Venus de Milo -> ancient Greek marble statue

Chapter 2:

“…grisly warzone that had once been their favourite taco place.” -> TBoB burrito paradox incident

“hourglass-shaped container” -> inspired by the ‘Cosmic Sand’ from S02E08 Blendin's Game and also the oracle page in Journal 3

“Vigilantes vel somniantes vel ambo…” -> this is actually a direct reference to a poem I wrote

“…you never needed the feather, Dumbo!” -> this scene in Dumbo

“The first line of the pyramid is also a theorem; it follows directly from axiom two.” -> Gödel, Escher, Bach: an eternal golden braid by Hofstadter, Douglas R., page 224. All of Amorphous Shape's dialogue comes from GEB because I'm saying that all of reality is consciousness-based (specifically Axolotl-based). What is Amy? A mystery, at her core. Some kind of expression of the fractal structure of the multiverse.

"in the backroom" -> did I spell back room incorrectly?? No. I did this on purpose.

Chapter 3:

My take on the mindscape is loosely based on Plato’s theory of Forms with some scaffolded fractal panpsychism thrown in for good measure

“…grains of sand on every beach…” -> reference to Carl Sagan's book Cosmos

5D Chess with Multiverse Time Travel -> reference to the actual game

Chapter 4:

“It would be insane for a serial killer to press and stamp their own fake pain killers…” -> allusion to the Tylenol murders

Photocopier -> S01E07, Double Dipper

“Route 14” -> Journal 3

Chapter 5:

“…a large gourd with an unnervingly friendly face.” -> Journal 3

“ten distinct varieties of spectra” -> Journal 3

“a huge chess pawn” -> seen in the background of various Gravity Falls episodes (in the attic)

“Teen and Up” -> reference to AO3's rating system

“chamomile, cardamom, and dandelion root” -> chosen for their occult and medical properties: chamomile is associated with calm, cardamom is associated with love, dandelion root is associated with change. Basically a little spell to keep Ford thinking good thoughts about Bill.

Chapter 6:

“Chumbo’s hungry” -> TBoB

“singing the alphabet backwards and chanting Z-O-Z-O-Z-O” -> these are two common ouija board events that are attributed to demons

“Bring spiders! Sixer liked those.” -> TBoB

“The sum of the angles in a triangle is 180 degrees only in Euclidean geometry; it is greater in elliptic geometry, less in hyperbolic.” -> Gödel, Escher, Bach: an eternal golden braid by Hofstadter, Douglas R., page 100

“party like it’s 1346!” -> this is the year the bubonic plague started

Chapter 7:

“There are these cows” -> Journal 3

“The Collector” -> a real Marvel villain

“eaten by Steve” -> Journal 3

“A mop and a bucket.” -> allusion to the various Handyman Bill AUs

“STARVING BLACK HOLES HAVE EATEN ALL LIGHT” -> that's entropy, babyyyy. Specifically, I was thinking about this video: time lapse of the future

“He wants his mother to cut the crusts off his sandwiches.” -> TBoB (burrito paradox 911 call script)

Chapter 8:

“the Purple Man” -> also a Marvel villain

“nice birthday present” -> TBoB

“I don’t want to be a fish!” -> the theory that hiccups are an old fish reflex

“Or Plato?” -> allusion to the allegory of the cave which is linked to Plato's Forms

Chapter 9:

“…has caused me harm in the following ways” -> common script for intervention letters

“A potato-shaped creature with a jelly-like consistency and four eyes” -> Journal 3

“Et tu, Brute?” -> Julius Caesar of course

“this space was originally my biospec lab” -> and that’s what it is in the show according to S02E15, The Last Mablecorn. I tried to stay true to this layout but I did make a few changes.

“He gave me rats for my birthday.” -> TBoB

Chapter 10:

“For here it is true that si paullum a summo discessit, vergit ad imum. I turned back when I saw that no man can reach the bottom of this night.” -> Gödel, Escher, Bach: an eternal golden braid by Hofstadter, Douglas R., page 92

“We cannot make the loop any tighter, but we can open it wider, by choosing to insert any number of intermediate levels, such as ‘picture frame’, ‘arcade’, and ‘building…’” -> Gödel, Escher, Bach: an eternal golden braid by Hofstadter, Douglas R., page 716

“Nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there.” -> direct quote from the Twilight Zone, S01E28

“The architect of my own destiny.” -> paraphrase of Jean-Paul Sartre

“Self-made man” -> paraphrase of Frederick Douglass

“portable portal device” -> allusion to the portal gun Rick and Morty... bordering on reference the further into the story we go... lol

Chapter 11:

Tachyon Queso’s Time-Loop Pizza Palazzo —> this is obviously just Chuck E. Cheez which, apparently, used to be called "Chuck E. Cheese's Pizza Time Theatre"

Chapter 12:

“Mens, corpus, in aethere separatum, spiritu unitum” –> I swear this is a reference to Supernatural but I can't remember which incantation I was thinking of

Chapter 13:

Multibear → S01E06, Dipper Vs. Manliness

"Just a couple tweaks" -> reference to Let's Get Weird by Longest Solo Ever

Chapter 14:

“If you wanted to go back and replace axiom one by its negation, you could not just do that by itself; you would have to delete all theorems which had involved axiom one in their derivations.” → Gödel, Escher, Bach: an eternal golden braid by Hofstadter, Douglas R., page ?? (forgot to record the page number, so sorry lol. When I reread I'll fix this)

“Querying the system about some particular idea sets up a goal in the form of a string to be derived.” → Gödel, Escher, Bach: an eternal golden braid by Hofstadter, Douglas R., page ?? (same issue as above)

“hyperdrive from crash site Omega” → Journal 3

“concentrated dark matter” → reference to Rick and Morty, S01E04, M. Night Shaym-Aliens!

“shadow realm” → reference to Yu-Gi-Oh!

“Magrathea” → planet in Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

Sikaris → planet in Star Trek (Voyager, S01E10, Prime Factors)

Naboo → planet in Star Wars

Arrakis → planet in Dune

Golden fiddle → reference to The Devil Went Down to Georgia

Chapter 15:

“Swayze-style” & “You had me at ‘ditto!’” → references to Ghost (1990)

Chapter 16:

Nothing here except a bunch of over-simplified neuroanatomy.

Chapter 17:

“Krombo-whoever-the-fuck” → allusion to Krombopulous Michael from Rick and Morty, S02E02, Mortynight Run

“she’d figured out how to set water on fire” → that one chemical that can do that. I forget. I think it's lithium? It also burns pink, so I think this was Alex's intention for Pyronica

Jheselbraum → Journal 3

Chapter 18:

“he had Jennifer Aniston beat in that regard” → reference to the Jennifer Aniston neuron

“what was his name… George? Henry?” → allusion to a series of comments where people kept getting Gary's name wrong. It really cracked me up. Like, yes, exactly! Gary is barely a person. Hilarious.

“‘Subsystem’ is just another name for an overgrown symbol, one which has gotten so complicated that it has–” → Gödel, Escher, Bach: an eternal golden braid by Hofstadter, Douglas R., page 384

“spiritui esto subiecto voluntati meae" -> and then Snooki appears! Reference to Supernatural, S9E16, Blade Runners

“Greek superstition” → parsley is associated with the dead in Greek mythology

“Yarrow? Frankincense?” & “absinthe?” → chosen for their occult properties. Yarrow is associated with removing blockages, frankincense with ritual amplification and consecration of ritual spaces, and absinthe is associated with spirit communication

Chapter 19:

“Anima, corpori fuerit corpus totem resurgent.” → reference to Supernatural, S8E1, We Need to Talk About Kevin. Fun fact: Amina (Anima backwards) just so happens to stand in for "amen" in Arabic in certain circumstances. Neat how that worked out.

And lots more oversimplified neuroanatomy. I like brain science. :3

Also thank you to my university's physics department and to some very helpful people on discord who checked my math on those three problems.

Chapter 20:

"Dammit, Janet" -> a song from Rocky Horror Picture Show

“fucking Nosferatu” → Nosferatu :) obviously :)

Chapter 21:

“Obtuse Society” → From this panel about the pitch document for TBoB (here's the actual document)

Chapter 22:

“cells, interlinked” → Pale Fire by Vladimir Nabakov

“Dr. Jacobi” → Laura Palmer's therapist in Twin Peaks

“Did the lambs get too loud for you, Clarice?” → Silence of the Lambs

“salt on Ford’s windowsills” → allusion to Supernatural. Just salt everywhere.

Chapter 23:

“stupid… calcium” → lack of calcium re-uptake is one of the causes of rigor mortis

Chapter 23:

I am purposefully drawing parallels between Bill's trauma-based dissociative experiences and my own experiences with dissociative disorders. This is also a nod to Disco Elysium!

"jelly doughnut" -> reference to the autopsy snack time trope

Chapter 24:

Nothing here

Chapter 25:

This chess game is just The Immortal Zugzwang

Chapter 26:

"a tattoo guy" -> it could be any of the embarrassing tattoos tbh (but it's definitely the "if lost return to Bill Cipher" one from TBoB, the "my muse and me" page)

Moloko plus → disgusting milk-based beverage in A Clockwork Orange

That ol’ Janx Spirit → alcoholic component of the Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster in Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

Chapter 27:

The spot in the Atlantic ocean that Ford is referencing is meant to be the Bermuda triangle

“Eyepatch?” → allusion to Theseus' Guide to Ruining a Perfectly Good Boat by @stump-not-found

The cake in this scene is an internal reference to the moment that Bill saw in chapter 7 which he was using to anchor his behaviour in subsequent chapters. In case.... anyone missed that. It was a very small moment.

"Just rebrand it as an adhesive exfoliating strip. The rash means it’s working." -> Stan's bandaid brand, "The Rip-Off," that won't give you rashes from S02E12, A Tale of Two Stans

The final scene with Bill is a reference to the one therapy session we see on thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com when you type in "even his lies are lies"

Spiders Georg -> we all know this guy, I hope

[darlingdaisyfarm]

what brothers are made of

a/n: heyy angels this is my first try at a fic without a reader! just exploring the brothers’ dynamic and their complicated relationship, hope you like the angst<3

tags: Stan and Ford, pre portal, angst

Ford’s the one who called. Ford’s the one who reached out with that damn postcard, asking for Stan’s help, and god, Stan wanted to believe. wanted to think that things could be different this time. maybe Ford really did need him, maybe this wasn’t another one of his schemes, his obsession with things that were so far beyond Stan that it made him dizzy just thinking about it.

but to his disappointment, when he gets here, when he stands face to face with his brother, all he sees is cold, logical desperation that makes him want to vomit. its the same thing that’s always been there, however, more paranoid than ever. Ford can’t stop himself from being consumed by his own mind and that’s exactly what’s gotten him here, hasn’t it?

Stanley wants to scream, wants to shake Ford, make him see. 

“responsibility? oh, that’s funny, coming from the guy who built a goddamn death machine in his basement and called me up to clean up his mess!”

“you don’t know what you’re talking about! this isn’t a ‘mess,’ Stanley. this is—”

“it’s bullshit!” Stan pulls the crumpled postcard from his pocket and flings it to the ground. “you didn’t call me here because you care about me. you never cared about me, sixer. you called me because you needed someone to hold your precious hand while you play god!”

“you’re so goddamn selfish,” Ford spits, shoving Stan toward the door. “you can’t stand the idea that i might actually accomplish something, can you?“

“fuck you, just fuck you! you think you’re better than me? you think this— this thing makes you better?”

“get out,” Ford says coldly, trying to hold his emotions. because that’s what Ford learned growing up, right? keep your feelings hidden. be the smart one, the quiet one. and when you need to, just get out of the room before you say something that can never be taken back. control, control, control.

because if he lets go, if he really opens up, he’ll have to confront everything. all of it. the hurt, the betrayal, the loneliness, the failure, his fears. and that’s a door Ford doesn’t want to open.

but if he did, Stan would see. Stanley would see how much Ford is drowning in his own guilt and fears, his desperation to fix things that can’t be fixed. Stan would see how badly Ford needs him, how much he needs them not as broken rivalry siblings they’ve become, but as the two kids they used to be, throwing their fists at the world together.

if Ford could let it out, he’d tell Stan how scared he’s been, he’d ask him to hug him and would cry into his shoulder. he’d tell him how every night he lies awake, torturing himself with the thought that maybe it was him, his own selfishness that led them to this. if he told Stan the truth, about Bill, he might just collapse under the weight of all the things he’s kept bottled up inside.

when Ford says "get out," what he's really saying is, "I don't know how to talk about this. I don't know how to say I need you, Stanley. I don’t know how to explain that the world I’ve built, all this knowledge I’ve gained, it all turned against me."

"you don’t mean that," Stanley says quietly. “i know you, Stanford. better than anyone. and i know that look in your eyes, you’re scared shitless. you don’t have a clue what you’re doing and instead of admitting it, you’re pushing me away. same as always."

the fight isn’t about the damn portal or journals, it never really was. it was never about science or alternate dimensions or any of the insane plans Ford dreamed up. it’s about them, about that gulf between them that’s grown so wide that Ford doesn’t even know where to begin. and when Stan gets too close, too loud, too angry, Ford pulls away because it’s a defense mechanism. his mind knows that if Stan touches that nerve, if Stan demands the truth, Ford will break. and he can’t let that happen.

when Ford was just a kid, staring out of their bedroom window, dreaming of galaxies and stars, their dad would look at him with proud eyes behind these glasses.

and the way their father looked at Stan, like a problem, that look burned into Stan’s soul. he pushed Stanley out of the house. and now even his own brother was doing the same thing. Stan hadn’t realised how much he still carried that hurt. hadn’t realised how much it still stung.

but Ford wasn’t his dad, he wasn’t the one who pushed Stan down, who told him he wasn’t worth anything. but then why when he looks at his twin, he sees Filbrick? because maybe, in the back of his mind, he is still that little boy, who was rejected and discarded. it’s not Ford, it’s their dad all over again. it’s the front door slamming shut in front of his face when Stan was too young.

you can’t do this to me. you can’t push me away like he did.

“you think you’re so fucking smart, but you don’t get it, do you? you don’t have to do this alone. you don’t have to carry all of this by yourself. but no, you’re too goddamn proud to let anyone in.”

Stanley wants to laugh, but it’s not funny, it’s fucking sad because Ford’s voice isn’t even loud or angry, not like their dad’s had been. Ford’s tone is quiet, restrained, controlled. and somehow that makes it worse.

"what did I say, Stan Pines? keep your stance low. aim for the gut; it’s the easiest target."

maybe that’s why he fought. because this wasn’t about Ford trying to save the world, this was about Ford pushing Stan away again, like their dad did years ago. pushing him out when he was scared, when he needed Ford the most.

Stan fights like their dad taught him. Stan’s punch lands and it hurts more than it should, not because of the impact, but because of the look in Ford’s paranoid eyes. shock, betrayal, but not anger. no, Ford’s not angry. he’s just hurt and maybe scared. and Stan hates that look, hates that he put it there.

Stan wasn’t trying to win in this fight, not like in the old days, when their dad had taken him to boxing gym to teach him a lesson because there Stan fought for respect. for himself. he fought to make sure he wasn’t just another screw up, another worthless kid in his dad’s eyes. boxing was a way to prove he wasn’t weak. and it worked. for a while.

Stan hates it. he hates that they’re here, yelling at each other like they’re still kids, fighting over who got the top bunk or who spilled milk on ma’s favorite tablecloth.

it’s funny in a way, how much this feels like when they were kids. when Ford would retreat into himself, hiding behind his books, while Stanley tried to pull him out to make him see the world the way Stan did.

but the world Ford sees isn’t the same as Stan’s. it never has been. Ford sees logic, patterns, equations and stars. Stan sees chaos, opportunity, feelings and family. they’re opposites, two sides of the same coin, and no matter how hard they try, they just can’t seem to meet in the middle.

Ford’s shove sends Stan stumbling backward, out the door, into the snow and that's when everything collapses under the onslaught of cold, harsh reality. It’s not the physical shock Stan experiences or the pain of hitting the snow-covered ground. because Stan is used to feel physical pain.

it’s realisation.

Ford’s silhouette appears in the doorway, breathing heavily, before he slams it shut. 

the snow keeps falling, covering Stan like a blanket, the same way their mother sheltered him. his blood stains the ground beneath him, but he doesn’t move because he can’t. the fight’s gone out of him, leaving only exhaustion and a hollow ache where his anger used to be.

she’s there, in the warmth of his memories, her soft hands cupping his cheeks, brushing away tears. “oh, my sweet boys,” her voice always sounded like a lullaby. “you’ll always have each other, no matter what.”

Stanley remembers the way she’d pull them close, wrapping her arms around both of them, protecting her kids from the world. at first Ford would squirm, pretending he was too old for hugs, but Stan always clung tight, burying his face in her apron.

“look after each other, boys, promise me, you’ll always look after each other.”

Stan had promised. but promises are funny things. 

they’re easy to make when you’re young and hopeful, when the world hasn’t yet shown you how cruel it can be. they’re much harder to keep when everything falls apart.

a sob tears its way out of his chest and Stan lets it. he lets the snow take him, lets himself lay there like that, because he thinks he deserves this.

Ford’s face flashes in his mind, not angered face he just fought, but the younger one. the one who used to sneak into his bed at night, scared of thunderstorms. the one who used to build sandcastles with him at the beach, the one who always supported him

“i’m sorry, ma, i tried. i really tried.”

the snow keeps falling and Stan closes his eyes.

[cantgetworsethanthistbh]

Ford is Not used to being dependant on someone as an adult - especially since Stan isn't dependant on him At All in return. It's gotta be doing weird things to his neurons, he would probably sit like a dog if Stan told him to, he is pathetic amounts of in love with him this is past partner in crime he's his hero, his guide, his Muse, his god, Ford is in a really weird headspace

OOOH i love this version of stancest sm. i know this is likely about the little ford au but i also just love this kind of stancest in regular sea grunkles and kills me. so much of stancest (and tbh just in their canon dynamic) is stan nipping at ford's feet and following ford's lead even their sea grunkles era. a lot of darker stancest always infers with ford being obssesive and controlling too and usually stan lets it, because hey thats their dynamic and its better than nothing.

but the opposite has SO much potentil. ford following stans lead. to think of ford realizing that he's way WAY out of his depth and that he needs stan way more than stan needs him now?? maybe he ALWAYS needed stan more than stan needs him?? after all, what did ford say about how stan wouldve been able to see through bill's tricks?? if they were together, the apocalypse wouldve never happened...

ford would think he's so lost now, lost without any purpose now that bill is defeated and he doesnt want the fame anymore either now that he knows his chase for it is what made him lose his brother, so he feels SO empty. except hes not. theres stan. stan whos strong, brilliant, charming and the most selfless hero ford would ever know.

ford wants to protect him so much but another day of stan saving his ass from a monster they were investigating (because he got too curious again) and ford thinks he could never EVER measure up to the way stan protects him, loves him, cherishes him and takes care of him. it makes ford feel awful, unworthy of this love after he promised he'd do anything to earn back that second chance stan too gracefully gave him. he can't fathom the idea of stan finally wisening up and leaving him even if its no less than he really deserves, because what else will he have anymore if he doesnt have his best friend, his hero, his true muse? it'll fester in his mind, growing and growing and growing, and he shoves it down deeper and deeper as much as he can.

but one night, one bottle and a million inhibitions thrown over the railing of the stan o war, he'll finally break when stan smiles at him while they sit on the deck, looking so happy when that makes no sense.

stan deserves the world, the entire galaxies, and ford can't give them to him at that very moment. he'll start crying, overwhelmed with how much he loves stan and how stan deserves the best— one ford has to grudgingly admit isnt him.

"woah, woah, sixer," stan interrupts worriedly, face falling. "what's wrong? come on, we arent even that drunk yet."

the joking tone makes ford feel worse, because how could stan stop smiling because of him and still try to make ford feel better? "i'm sorry," ford chokes. "stan, god, i'm so sorry."

"stanford," stan says placatingly. ford understands that stan understands too, that this isn't about the alcohol, or about crying out of nowhere. his hands cup ford's face, so large and warm, like a place where ford could hide his face forever with the depths os his shame and stan might even let him. that breaks ford even more. "hey come on, bro, s'okay..."

"don't leave me."

"i'm not leaving you, your big brain knows that."

you should, ford thinks but will never say, because he can't. "i can't lose you again," ford whispers with shaky breath. "i w-wouldn't know what to do with myself—"

"ford—"

"— because you're so brilliant, and brave, and good—"

"— i guess but—"

"—you're so good stan," ford interrupts whatever faux preening stan was going to do. his brother doesnt believe him, and ford practically crawls into his space.

"you are so, so good. you are so good and you don't even realize, i—" ford's breath hitches. "i don't even know how i could ever repay you..."

"pff, alright," stan scoffs, looking away, cheeks bright red and smile unconvincing. "jeez ford, you really are drunk." he laughs, his shoulders stiff and unmoving. "like what, are you trying to suck my dick?"

"is that what you want?"

stans eyes snap back to him, wide and full of shock.

"what?"

"is that what you want me to do?"

"no, ford– i'm not–"

"stan," ford says, reaching his hand now to cup stan's face, and god he's just as much of a perfect fit in ford's as he was in stan's. stan is so much bigger and better than anyone else, but with his own extra finger he just might be fit for ford. "stan, it's okay. whatever you want, whatever you need, i'll do it. for you."

sort of something like that. i really really like to think of a slightly toxic, but like in the "its toxic and also the healthiest way this dynamic can really go about" ending where ford tries to overcompensate to stan with sex and romance and stan is relunctant at first but seeing just how willing ford actually is really starts getting into the whole dom/sub— which fulfills some purpose for ford AND he gets to have stan come all over him so its kind of a huge win on all fronts

[hightidesandoldmen]

Listen to me

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Mind control fetish, dom/sub dynamics, Bill gave Ford some weird kinks and the sooner Stan can make it work for them the sooner they can turn this Sailing Retirement into a Gargantuan Amounts Of Sex World Tour, Ford tries to dom but is a sub at heart, dubious consent, if its dubious consent on both sides is it still dub con or just a very weird moment for everyone?, hand jobs, blow jobs, though admittedly the smut at the end is purpousefully a bit of an afterthought.

Notes: I have always been curious about the concept of 'Dark Ford but Stan turns the tables on him' as a concept but i don't really see it in fic

--

Sixer had always been... a bit of a control freak. It wasn't a huge deal or anything back in the day because while Stan was rambunctious he DID know when his brother knew better and was willing to follow his brains and plans and all of that. He was perfectly content to simply punch in the direction that Stanford pointed him in.

In his more bitter moments on the road he hadn't wondered if Ford's actual anger at the science fair project thing was more for the fact that he hadn't been in control in the moment (and Stan hadn't been either but that was his own fault, Pa was right in that regard) or if Ford hadn't already been pulling away from him in the first place because He'd wanted to keep being in control of the situation-

and when his wants for 'the plan' had changed, the fact that Stan's hadn't had put him in a place where he couldn't control the situation as well. He didn't know. By that point maybe he didn't know his brother all that well at all anymore. (maybe he'd stopped knowing his brother well when he'd had to start looking away when Ford would change in their room because his throat would suddenly get dry and his heart would race, If it wouldn't have ruined everything between them Stan would have wondered if it would be a comfort to Ford to know his brother was much more of a freak than he'd ever be)

By the time he was being summoned to oregon he was well aware his brother was a different person now, it was fine, he was too. But it seemed Stanford's desire for control had never faded. It might have been the biggest screw up and mistake of Stanley's life- but if Ford was ever even the slightest bit willing to actually work WITH him it could have been avoided. It was still Stan's fault in the end though. his brother was a control freak, but that was fine- everyone had their flaws. But Ford was gentle he was always gentle.

this horror nightmare dimension on the other side of the portal- that was going to do horrible things to him and he was going to need him.

There was an odd vindictiveness to it- that for the first time, He had been in control and not Ford. He was the one that was doing something about all of this. Not his brother. If it wasn't because of his own failures, he would have called it oddly nice.

Then there came that summer, the twins, the portal working again, Bill....

and ultimately, Ford coming back.

And coming back even more of a control freak as ever. But it was okay now. They were okay now.

and Ford had smiled at him and the plan was the one Stanley had given up on but always secretly still wanted. And maybe Stan could live with being the person that just punched in the direction Ford pointed him in again.

Maybe it would be fun.

maybe being around the person Ford was now would mean that the hard thump in his chest would stop.

--

It was about two months out to sea when it happened. Stan had had a fling with a siren most recently, apparently they didn't actually mind control people, they just found out what you wanted and told you they had it until you'd go after them. He'd met a little blacksheep that wanted to talk about what SHE wanted, and Stan had been curious- but it turns out that angle was in and of itself a siren angle and he'd been dragged into the water.

Ford had been pissed beyond all beleif- he had of course warned Stan about it, freshwater sirens were mostly harmless apparently, and double apparently he'd even dated one himself in Gravity falls, but saltwater sirens were to a one maneaters. But Stan had dodged hypothermia and they sent a polaroid to the kids of him still picking kelp out of his hair to make it feel funny again.

But ford had had this weird twist to his mouth for the rest of the day, and Stan wasn't sure if it was really all THAT big of a deal because- well he'd punched out a few of the girls siren buddies, so they weren't THAT tough... but... Ford was still pretty pissed. So Stan- figured he'd better do something to make it up to his brother.

"Hey- come on Poindexter- I'm fine, and those sirens weren't nothing!" he swung an arm around Ford's shoulders and the pinch to his lip didn't fade, but his gaze did soften a touch.

and Stan figured he was PROBABLY in the clear...

"Life would just be easier if you just-... listened more Stanley..." He groaned, and Stan grinned.

"Sorry Poindexter, Im too stubborn for ya! Can't stop me unless ya tie me down!"

Ford went wierdly quiet at that.

like... WIERDLY quiet.

it should probably have been a red flag, but in that moment Stan just wondered if he was re-lancing the wound before it was ready so instead he joked again "And even then it's a 50/50 shot i'll just get back out!"

and thankfully Ford laughed again.

though Stan did feel eyes on him every so often for the rest of the day.

--

admittedly that should have been something his conman brain should have picked up on, but as it was he seemed to have blinders when it came to Ford, his brother was always surprising him.

So naturally he didn't suspect most anything at all when on a calm day still on the coast of Ireland, Ford mentioned wanting to stay 'home' rather than go to the pub in the village they were docked at.

And Stan figured he probably should hang with him as to make up for the whole 'scaring ford half to death for nearly becoming Siren chow' thing, so he stayed behind as well and while Ford was doing... whatever he was doing he'd update the sail logs. for all that it grated on Stan that they were going to have to be 'on the books' now and probably until after he croaked, if they managed to somehow end up lost at sea then the kids were SURE to recover their logs somehow and they should know if they went out figthing a kracken or running from antlantian guards or something.

"Hey Stanley-" Ford spoke up from where he was rummaging through his things, clearly looking for something. "Can you close the cabin door?"

"Huh-?" He was maybe ABOUT to complain about his knees but, eh whatever. he got up and his knees creaked ominously, but he lumbered the two steps over to the cabin door and shut it. "what's the deal, Ford? you find some contraband in there that could get us thrown out of Leprechaun territory before i can steal a pot of gold from these rubes?"

"No- I simply wanted to know if you would... like to experience something with me?" Ford pulled out a worn down looking bag full of... some irridescent shimmery looking shit-

"Did mabel send us a bag of glitter and you're about to throw it in my face?" he wondered treptidatiously, and Ford grinned, and... it looked wierdly sharp. Stan was more on guard than he perhaps should have been, (though in hindsight that possibly is what made things shake out the way they did so he was thankful for his paranoia in that moment)

"No- this is something i came across a few dimensions ago, it's a sort of pscychoactive substance that when burned releases a smoke that upon inhilation can cause a delightfully non-addicting sensation."

wait...

"Sixer are you asking me if i wanna get high with you?" ford's cheeks suddenly burned red and he coughed into his hand; and stan only took a moment to appreciate that that bashful look made his whole face soften.

"to put it crassly, i suppose, i simply have experienced such a thing before and i considered that you would appreciate such a state as well."

Then ford grinned a beseeching grin at him with that pink in his cheeks not faded yet and Stan was a weak weak man with a disgusting attraction that should not be. because he rolled his eyes and headed for his bed, because ford grinning at him like that was kind of all he needed to do whatever his twin (his TWIN he was such a sick freak that it hadn't even changed now after EVERYTHING) wanted him to.

Stan liked giving ford what he wanted- he was sure if he dug his heels in and said a firm no he'd be able to out-stubborn his brother, but he LIKED giving Ford what he wanted. So he leaned back against his pillows and threw his hands behind his head.

"Alright nerd, smoke away."

He tilted his head to watch Ford's hands fumble slightly with a box of matches that were already in his hand, and the wierd glimmery powder was already in a bowl-wow he really had already set the whole thing up before Stan had agreed, hadn't he?

that in hindsight should have been another red flag, but then the flame had gone down onto the shimmering powder- and he'd noticed that Ford had upturned the whole bag rather than portioning it out if they wanted to try this again-

but then the smoke hit the air.

it smelled... wierdly sweet- like burning Cherry wood or Apricot wood... and it WAS kind of a woodburning smell- in a weird way it sort of reminded him of the campfires they used to make when they were young.

the old neighborhood in glass shard beach had no space for a wood burning fireplace or anything, they had a squeaky radiator like everyone else who lived above their family's shop...

"Smells good-" he hummed. but when he glanced at Ford he noticed his brother seemed to already be feeling the effects, he was blinking rapidly and had lifted his hands up to cover his nose. he of course, laughed.

"You get a face full of it by lighting it off sixer?" rookie mistake, he had figured out several tricks to not get a full face of weed smoke back in the day himself, but it seemed Ford wasn't all that much of a recreational drugs person in his own portal based adventures if he made such a rookie mistake...

"No it- it smells odd..." Ford leaned back, and rather than settling onto his own bed he sat on the edge of Stan's. "oddly acrid."

"Really? smells fine to me." he gave another experimental sniff and sure enough yes, the smell of sweet woods and campfires and all of that... "What does it smell different for everyone or something? scifi nerd drugs change smell depending on the person?" he wondered, and, after a moment's pause, ford sighed.

"Yes i suppose so. It's... probably fine, as you said."

An rare concession from Ford, but a welcome one so Stan scooted to the side a bit and patted at the empty space on his bed. "come on- if you're gonna be right here when we both get high as balls on space weed then might as well get comfy."

and Ford, thankfully, listened to him and reclined next to him as they began to hotbox their cabin

For a while Stan was wondering if the damn drug would kick in yet, because he was just smelling some not unpleasent sweet woodburn smoke but he absolutely did not feel high. Not even in the way that waiting for an edible to kick in would...

though when he tilted his head to ask his brother if he'd gotten jacked by the space-dealer he'd gotten this shit from, Ford...had been effected.

His brother was turned almost entirely toward him, watching him closely, eyes dilated so far that there was only a barely visible ring of dark brown against black.

"You... doing okay Ford?" he wondered- "you want me to crack open a window?"

"No. it's fine." Ford answered, and then followed up with his own "How are you feeling?"

which- whatever. Stan Shrugged. "I mean- fine I guess. doesn't really feel like it's hitting much- you know?" Ford's brow furrowed, and he began to sit up, he looked weirdly perturbed. "What do you mean?" he wondered. and Stan, feeling weird about still reclining while Ford sat up, followed his lead and sat up himself.

"Well- i mean it smells nice, like one of those driftwood campfires we'd use to make on the beach when we were kids, but i don't feel any different. I've been high before, i know what it feels like- you know?"

"What's it supposed to feel like?" he brought up, and- for a moment Stanford looked... weirdly dodgy, looking away, pulling away from him- and okay- that wasn't a good sign. So he pulled out the boss voice. "Stanford, what's going on?"

And Ford was CONSIDERABLY higher than he was, because he folded immediately at the firm tone in his voice.

"You never listen to me. Stanley you NEVER listen to me. if you just LISTENED to me everything would be better! You almost died and everything ALWAYS goes bad when you dont just let me do the thinking im the smart one im the one that SHOULD be in control- and this is Going to - this is going to help us...!"

He pressed his hands to Stan's shoulders, and- fucking- what?

"Stanford are you trying to fucking mind control me? is this mind control shit?"

he felt his ire rising, and Ford-... maybe had thought he was trying to push him back down but he was stoned out of his gourd clearly because he just balled his fists into Stan's shirt and leaned forward a bit too much- honestly it almost looked like he was going to kiss him-

"Not- not really- well- maybe- kind of? It's... I didn't-" he looked back to the still smoking bowl. "It's... not working right."

Stan grit his teeth, and forced down his emotional reaction- he could get pissed when Ford was sober- or maybe wait to get the full explanation and then FORCE him to get lucid by throwing him into the cold irish bay.

"What was supposed to happen. What is this stuff-" he glared at Ford and his brother almost seemed to shrink under his ire. "Tell me. The truth."

Maybe the space drug was booby trapped or something because once he made it a full command, Ford's already hazy gaze seemed just... glaze over.

like all of his brain power was completely shut off but for what he needed to do to fulfil an order.

"I got it in a black market spaceport, i was considering using it for non-lethally neutralizing Bill for a time, it's a meathod of Gambling. the smoke creates a psychic link between those whom inhale it at the same time and the weakest willied will get their willpower siphoned into the stronger willed until the weaker willed could have their very reality rewritten with ease. You were supposed to be the weaker and i could use it to mean you'd stop fighting me on stupid things. And-" Ford's face twisted, in the most resistance in all of this that he seemed capable of as he was trying to bite something back from coming out of his mouth.

which was all well and good because stan slumped onto his knees and tried to keep from screaming.

Keep calm. His brother just tried to... drug and mentally enslave him- that was... it wasn't fine but clearly it didn't fucking WORK so he couldn't be TOO mad he just needed to parse out how mad he SHOULD be when Ford snapped out of this fugue state and went back to being a control freak that was so manic about being a control freak that hed try to mind control him-

"-And i could make you love me"

His eyes snapped open and he turned back to Ford, whom, if possible looked even drowsier than before, like resisting saying that had taken so much energy that he no longer had any more to fight off whatever this fucking psychic mind control drug shit was.

"....What? Ford of course i love you- you're my brother why do you think you needed to do that shit to me to love you?"

"Not like that." Ford's voice had dropped, into a drowsy monotone, like he was speaking in his sleep. "Not like a brother-"

and Stan's blood both froze over and lit aflame at once.

"....What?"

"was- was always jealous..." ford mumbled, and Stan had to press a hand to Ford's shoulder so he wouldn't topple over back onto the floor and he bonelessly flopped onto his bed. "didnt like to see you dating girls" his eyelids were fluttering now, the stupor this whole 'willpower draining' thing was putting him under was very much leaving him too tired to care about anything. like the concious mind had fully shut down and he wasn't really talking to Ford anymore so much as his subconcious.

so that was what he meant by 'the weaker could have their reality shaped'...

which was all the details he was focusing on so he didn't have to think about the fact that ford was implying- that he was saying...

that he felt the same way...

"Wanted you to kiss me instead..." he practically moaned out. And... Stan didn't know why, but he stood up, took the smoking bowl, and walked back to place it beside where ford's head had fallen.

And he didn't know why but he leaned in and started to murmur.

he had rolled with a lot of strange crowds over his ten years of homelessness, and he'd seen things. things that were used to help the women and men of the night that he'd rolled with in Chicago disassociate enough to be able to take clients they couldn't get it up for.

they wouldn't waste drugs in a city of actors. and actors meant things like hypnotists. And he wasn't really attractive enough to be easily selected unless he was someone's type, but the pimp he'd been rolling with for a bit had noticed he had a mean hook so he was sent in to watch the girls and twinks to make sure the people he paid for the time of never put anything nasty in their heads that might take away workers.

"Keep breathing, nice and deep- in.... and out... feel that smoke coming in... feel it clouding up that busy mind, feel it making everything go slower and slower, and how nice it is to feel it going slow. You're always thinking so much Stanford, about so many things, your mind is so exhausted. It feels so good to let your thoughts slow with every deep breath in. And every time you breathe out that smoke has stuck to more and more of your will and your thoughts and when you breathe out you can feel them drifting away, and coming into me-"

"And it's so so easy to just admit to things even if you didn't let yourself think about them much when you feel so smokey and good right now, Isn't that right? You can just say things you knew deep down but were too scared to say, because Your Stan's got you. And you know your Stanley can keep you safe, isn't that right?"

Ford took a deep breath, and sighed out a euphoric "yes...." and Stan figured he probably only had a limited amount of time till this will smoke stuff faded.

and...

well if Ford thought his willpower wasn't important enough to be respected- maybe it'd be justice to understand why.

"Why did you decide to use this instead of any other way to get Stan to listen to you? Why mind control?"

"I find mind control, brainwashing, hypnosis and other types of mental dominance extremely arousing."

Oh.

OH

Well fuck...

"....Is that something you always knew or did you learn it from someone?"

"Bill showed me how wonderful it can be, he was always in control and i wanted to be in control this time." of fucking course it was that damn triangle. why did everything seem to always come back to that damn triangle...

"Do you like being out of control?"

Ford shivered and Stan could see the tent starting to form in his pants. "Yes..."

Stan hummed. "Yeah i bet you would. it's probably so exhausting being the person thats always got the plans and calling the shots. i bet its REALLY nice to just get all dumb and misty and just do what people tell ya, huh?"

"Yes..."

"Say 'Yes Stanley'." he ordered and Ford gave another full body shiver, the tent in his pants growing significantly at the order

"Yes Stanley..."

"Good Boy. Every time you're a good boy and do as you're told you say 'Yes Stanley' Understand?"

"Yes Stanley."

"Good. Now... Tell me about this Will-powder" heh "does this last until its done burning?"

"No, the person whose will is drained remains in a suggestible state unless commanded awake. the psychic link doesnt go both ways, you lose your willpower to the winner and it stays theirs unless freely given back. And even then the psychic siphon remains. the winner can always take the loser's will away again whenever they please."

"Does it... hurt?"

"No... feels... so good...."

Stanford's cock was practically straining against his pants now, and Stan could feel his own stir in sympathy.

He looked away, thumb tapping against the bed as he thought about what to do-...

"Ford when you said you... didn't love me like a brother- what DO you love me like?" He- he knew technically ford had already answered but-that was in the past that was...

that was before everything...

"I want you. Want you to-... to want me... I know its... its wrong its... its taboo... I never wanted anyone else. Not Cathy Crenshaw, not Fiddleford, not Bill... not really... i only ever wanted you and... and it scared me... Even when i hated you i only wanted you back..."

well...

shit...

He spent a bit of time thinking it over. And when the smoke stopped, and he opened a window and Ford remained sprawled out on his bed, half asleep and cock straining for freedom against his pants, Stan figured Ford got generally good information...

About the drug at least...

Fords hips gave a little unconcious twitch upward and... Stan had mercy on him and took one of his heavy hands, dropping it over the bulge and watched with minor fascination as his brother's deft fingers rubbed against the restricted erection but lacked the dexterity to free himself-

At least, not without permission....

"Just keep rubbing there, Stanford" Ford moaned and his hips gave an instinctual twitch into his palming hand.

"Yes Stanley..." it came out as another heaving moan, and... damn...

He could see why Ford wanted this- this kind of control was heady... And ford LIKED control. He just... also liked being out of control. He really liked it.

And... Stan wasn't sure what to do about it-

"One more question- How do you bring will back and take it away?"

"You just tell them to think for themselves again to give it back, but to take away again you need-" Ford moaned. "You establish a trigger for them to remember at once that you possess their willpower"

establish a trigger huh? Like a codeword or something?

Or maybe...

Stan looked over at the drawer he kept some of his bedside things in and felt around until he found some thick glass. A Cologne he had stolen from a french store that was maybe the fanciest cologne he'd ever palmed from a shopping rack. it was one of those ones with the fancy sculpted glass and it even had a little squeeze bottle to spray it!

He had decided to save it only for hot dates and possibly getting to pick strangers up, so he'd yet to use it.

Until now.

"Well lets figure out a trigger for later right now, eh?" he tilted ford's head so he was properly facing upward. "Eyes open, Ford."

"Yes Stanley."

Glazed over, dilated wide, but still that same umber brown that matched his own, Ford's eyes so barely opened, staring into nothing and clearly lost in some wonderful reverie that only existed in his own mind.

Stan tilted his head back and sprayed himself with the cologne, rubbing it in a little to make sure it would get all nice and mixed with his natural body scent. "Sit up." "Yes Stanley." as if being raised up by a wire Ford sat up properly, though his eyes remained staring perpetually forward and focused on nothing. Stan took him by the back of his head, took a moment to appreciate the coarse curls in between his fingers, and pulled Stanford in to press his face up against Stan's neck. "Take a nice deep breath in. I know that smoke didn't smell all that good to you, so try this instead. that smell, of the cologne and me all at once? thats gonna be your trigger, alright? every time you smell this you're going to remember all at once that I've got your willpower. whenever you're awake you're gonna forget it, you're gonna think it's all... manmade stage stuff. Like those magicians that hypnotize the ladies in the dresses to pass the ring around them. you're gonna think you told me about how sexy you think people taking control of your mind was, and i'm providing this wierd but fun kink for you."

"When you're awake you know nothing that happens when you're like this is being done that you don't want to happen, but when you take a breathful of this, when you smell me and smell that cologne, you remember all that once that you gave your will to me. You remember that Stanley's the one that really calls the shots, even if you forget and you convince yourself that you're in control, you know deep down that he's got you on a hook..."

"And every time it'll feel just as good to know that as it does now." He grabbed Ford's hand and ground his palm against his crotch and Ford moaned out the next "Yes Stanley"

"You're such a good boy, Stanford..." he hummed, and let Ford breathe in the scent for a little longer.

But just a little longer because his own cock was getting to aching a bit from lack of attention.

he unbuttoned his jeans and his own dick let out a delightful throb when it was freed from restriction, and when he pulled ford's hand away, and his brother let out a faint whine, he chuckled.

But he thought he was maybe done with this whole thing... For all that this was an... interesting development, he didn't want a mindless thrall- he wanted ford.

"...When i wake you up, And i change your mind on something, or give you an order, you're going to have just a moment of feeling like this again, all nice and hazy and brainless, and will-less and it'll feel so so good, that even when it fades and you'll forget it happened, you'll feel so good agreeing with whatever i was saying or doing whatever i told you that you'll decide it was your idea to do it in the first place. Understand?"

"Yes Stanley."

"And every time you're a good boy and obey you'll say...?"

"Yes Stanley"

"Good Boy."

"Now- last instruction-" he properly undid ford's pants and watched his brother shake as his cock was freed from its constraints. it was turning fucking purple at the tip and some part of Stan wanted to feel the weight of it in his mouth...

Maybe later...

"When you wake up you'll be awake, but your brain will be so thoroughly consumed with lust that all that braniac Sixer thought won't come back until you cum until you can't cum any longer..."

"Like- you'll KNOW this is real, but it'll just feel like you were so lost in lust and the fact that you're living out hormonal dreams you had since your teen years is the only part that's really processing in your head."

"Understand?"

"Yes Stanley."

"Good Boy."

He ran a hand through Ford's hair, and watched him lean into him, peering at Stan with those big dilated eyes, trusting and open. Because he didn't really have any other choice.

Well- it was Ford's doing to make this whole thing happen- Stan could at least make it good for the both of them.

"Wake up now, Ford. Think for yourself again." Ford blinked once, then twice. his brow furrowed, and his pupils restricted, but the hazy look in his eye didn't fade-

and then both hands came up to press against stan's; Ford not just tilting his head into the grip but practically nuzzling into it.

"Stan..." there was a pained sort of strain in Ford's voice, an almost terrified desparation...

"Stanley i- please-" Ford leaned in, and Stan pulled away from him a bit,just to see what would happen- turned out what would happen was that that sci fi survivalist shit would kick in because Ford growled and threw himself forward, pushing stan back until he was straddling him.

"Dont you run away from me-" Ford growled, and-

okay yeah he was JUST starting to see the appeal of being in control he wasn't all too keen on getting rid of it now.

"Nah, you're going to let me take the reigns on this one, Poindexter." Stan began to get back up and sure enough Ford's conviction flickered near immediately-

and to be safe he added on- "You WANT me to call the shots on this one, Stanford."

and for a moment Ford's entire demeanor changed, his eyes hazing over entirely and staring into nothing as lids sank down to half mast and he robotically answered back-

"Yes Stanley" Before shaking it off quickly, and, as if he hadn't thought of anything else but for this to be the endgoal, ford went from straddling him, to throwing himself into stan's lap.

"Please-" he whimpered, bringing his hips as close as he could without actually touching Stan's cock with his own.

"Stan Please- i can't- i- i need- I need you..."

it was then that Stan took pity on his poor will-less brother. Stan chuckled and wrapped one hand around ford's sharp hip bone and pulled him as close as he could get, and with the other, he reached between them both and grabbed hold of their cocks, Ford's was leaking so much precum he didn't have to worry about lube.

"Good boy-" He cooed and Ford moaned, jerking his hips harshly into Stan's hand.

they were a couple of old men, they could probably only go a surprise round once, so when Ford moaned his name a few more times, and came so hard some of the drops splattered on the wall behind the both of them, Stan figured his brother would be tapping out quickly thereafter-

only for Ford to surprise him greatly when it was clear both that Stan was not spent himself, nor was he particularly sated.

a six fingered hand wrapping around his dick was one that only existed in his wildest horniest fantasies, but that face, both similar to his and so different, slowly going down- down- down, until that wet hotness of a mouth encoumpassed him, was so out of his imagination that he couldn't really believe it was happening.

Burying hands in that curly hair and thrusting into a willing, delighted mouth until cub dribbled out of his mouth was a fantasy that had never even been considered enough to be entertained. and yet there it was.

and by the time he was dragging ford up to give him the first proper kiss between them his brother was grinding a second erection onto his knee.

That one... he let ford stay like that. grinding against his knee like an animal, it let him watch his brother's face without splitting his attention anywhere.

the mad lustful joy on Ford's face defeated any leftover concern he might have had.

Ford's mind didn't clear until he came again, but by then he was so tired that when Stan tucked him into his bunk and whispered some instructions for tomorrow-

There had been nothing to do but hazily mumble out 'Yes Stanley' and let the feeling of being a good boy carry him into sleep.

and Stan...

Stan had some ideas.

After all, Ford had gotten himself and Stan into this, it was only fair that Stan make sure his brother got all the enjoyment he could possibly get out of it.

[pix-writes]

Thank you so much for answering my question! You always give very thorough and thoughtful answers 🥹🥹 If you don't mind me asking, can I ask the same question about friendships (possible lovers later, just like with Stanley) but with Ford? Thank you so much again, I really love reading your analysis 🥹🙌🏻✨️!!

Aw thank you! ☺️

(answer under cut)

I think I've gone over a little bit about how Ford would be in the beginning of a friendship/relationship in this post. Mainly talking about how his flaws/past wound would hinder him forming relationships, generally.

Though I did mention that I think Ford would be easy to bond with, in terms of connecting over something intellectual or nerdy. If you're someone who is game to tag along on research or adventures and can lend a hand figuratively/physically, then your friendship will start to grow, as quality time is the best way to get to know him (he may be a hero/adventurer, but he's truly an introvert with introvert hobbies). Shared interests are something that seems very important to Ford, having been starved of a lot of affection and deeper connections in the past, especially since he found making friends in school/college; so as long as you share a few passions, he'll open up to you fairly quickly.

However, it will take him more time to form a romantic connection and for him to act on it, it will be very slow burn because firstly, he simply doesn't move fast in a relationship, or at least not as fast as modern dating seems to be, and second of all because he has a little insecurity over whether you're interested in him or not/should be interested in him. It takes Ford a little bit to be convinced you won't get your head turned by someone more 'suitable' in his mind. This is also in part to the trauma from Bill's manipulation and torture, whilst you may have only connected after bill was erased, it still brings up trust issues in him and he needs to feel he could trust a partner - as well as work through anxiety about putting you in potential danger (will be quite protective over you as a partner as a result of this).

Kindness will go a long way in securing his opinion of you as someone trustworthy, not only to him but Ford seeing you be kind to his family, your other friends, even to strangers or just plain altruistic in actions not just in words, means that he can trust that he has evidence to back up what he thinks of you and not fall into a similar trap like he did with bill.

Also will admire you for any show of bravery or doing what is right (especially if it's in a situation where it's against the odds, whether it's something dire or a situation where it would be easy to give into social pressures). He appreciates when people say what they mean and are direct with him, as he'll be the same with them (I'm neurodivergent and I hc Ford is too, so this may be specific to being ND, as it's confusing when neurotypical people talk in circles to me!)

Friendship with Ford would include:

watching nerdy TV/films together, whilst I think Ford has only passingly known of/shown interest in world events even before the portal incident, he still managed to have some semblance of interests/life outside of his research, it may arguably not have been a lot, but considering his interest in dnd (including the intergalactic versions) and how he wanted to drop everything to play it with dipper in that one episode, he is definitely interested in catching up on all the nerdy TV/films he's missed out on, cue watching LOTR, star wars, star trek etc. However his gaps in world events comes up as well at the most random of times, he didn't really ask much on what he's missed out in world news (it's not relevant to his work or so he thinks), which can be both hilarious and sad, as as his friend you have to catch him up or remind him (e.g. 'no sixer, the soviet union doesn't exist any more, remember?' 'oh yeah, there was a war in Afghanistan... What do you mean how did it start?!')

playing board games/video games, like I said above Ford is a long time player of ttrpgs and so you will be persuaded into playing some version of a DND campaign if you're not already into it. Ford's excellent at teaching the mechanics and actually pretty good at roleplay and DMing, he can't do many voices but his storytelling is masterful (he is an author after all, even if he wasn't writing fiction and has lots of past practice from college). Dives straight into 5e, learns it quickly and creates his own homebrew version in no time at all! If you introduce him to the concept of dnd shows, he becomes a critter for sure! Essek and Percy are his favourite characters in Critical Role. Hums the theme song sometimes when he's working in the lab. Dipper gets him into Minecraft and you together construct a large home base and underground lab in the game. A lot of these games can take a long time, definitely have stayed up till 3 or 4 am on a campaign more than once.

research in the lab together or out in the field and debating with Ford about all sorts of topics, including your current research projects and both of your hypotheses. You might not have the same skill set as him but he values a different perspective from his own, you help balance out his hyperfocus. Is protective of you if something might be dangerous, will want him to be the one that gets hit/hurt if anyone has to, though both of you have had to patch up the other.

Getting into debates: Ford loves a mental challenge, he doesn;t realise its good for him (consciously/not until post-weirdmageddon) but having someone who isn't afraid to challenge him or speak their mind with him helps to keep him grounded and for him to really pause and think about his theories/morals. It doesn't have to be too deep though, perhaps you simply disagree on something, this will turn into a full debate, but despite some thinking you're arguing, its more of a passionate conversation, you're both having fun. Plus its even more fun when Ford ends up agreeing with you (its rare but it boosts your ego when it does happen)

related to the adventures a little: expect Ford to praise you/your efforts, (reminds me a bit like the 9th doctor or Sherlock) will just be doing something or figuring out a code or puzzle he'll exclaim "fascinating!" Or brilliant/fantastic/excellent/good, sometimes he's not aware he's saying these hushed phrases! Or he'll follow it up with questions, eyes lit up from being energised in his work, like "fascinating! How did you reach that conclusion?" 🤓

catching him up on technology, he finds it difficult compared to the high tech stuff from other universes but I like to hc he would get over it eventually, he's not the most adept in terms of keeping up with internet culture but is when it comes to tinkering with technology and experimenting/improving it. Still likes to call people instead of text and will have regular phone calls with you if you or him are away from each other.l, eases his worries about you (he's protective and still has nightmares from time to time so he likes to hear your voice so he knows you're ok).

Spending quieter moments together, even if its just stargazing on the stan o war whilst stan fishes, if you're close friends, I can imagine Ford would like hugs, holding hands and on the odd occaision napping cuddled up together (platonically) - the naps happened by accident at first, however its nice and your adventures are exhausting sometimes, so you now get the weighted blanket for you to both lie under for an hour or two (Mabel definitely has a picture of you asleep on her phone because its adorable).

Ford hasn't driven for 30 yrs (well not a regular old car anyway) so you've definitely had to drive him places/collect him before because his attempts at driving are almost as reckless as Stan is behind the wheel 😬 on a boat though? He's the most trustworthy captain 🫡 meticulous on the safety checks, will boss you and stan about a little on what to do, but you know it's for good reason... most of the time

[himbo-ford-pines]

hehehehehehe evil thots illegal thots here have bad babysitter Stan

CW: drinking

——————

Stanley watched his brother run full speed around the house. He sighed. He should have never given into the boy’s pleas for ice cream. Their parents were going to be gone overnight and had tasked Stanley with watching the seven year old Stanford. He recalled his pa’s warning before they left the house: “He’d better be asleep by eight, and eat his entire dinner and-“ blah blah blah. Stanley knew what he was doing. Christ they worried so much.

He was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a crash. He paled. “Sixer, I know you didn’t run into that fucking urn.” He stared hard at their grandmother’s ashes on the floor. “God… dammit. Okay.” He stood and grabbed the broom, muttering to himself. He was gonna get his ears boxed for this.

Stanford stepped back and rubbed his arm sheepishly. “Sorry Stanley, I was pretending to be a B-52 and-“

“Yeah, bud, I saw.” He sighed. “You need to calm down a little, you’re literally bouncin’ off the walls. In fact-“ he glanced up at the cat clock monotonously ticking away above the entrance to the kitchen. “I think it’s bedtime.” He considered ashes in the dustpan and grabbed a Tupperware, dumping them in while his brother whined at him.

“What?! That’s not fair, you get to stay up all night and watch tv!”

“Yeah, cuz I’m charge tonight, and Pa gave me specific instructions on what to do with you. I’m not getting my ass whooped because you wanna watch cartoons longer than normal. I’m already getting it because you spilled Grandma on the fuckin floor.” He wiped his hands off on his white shirt, grimacing at the dark smudges. Sorry Grandma.

Ford frowned. “But I’m not tired.”

Stanley frowned. Getting this kid in bed when he didn’t want to go was nearly impossible. Then he remembered his ma talking about giving them gin on her finger when they were babies to calm them down and put them to sleep. He wondered if beer would do the same. “Tell ya what, you can stay up with me, but you have to drink with me. You wanna be a man or whatever? Come on.” He grabbed a six pack he’d stolen from the local grocery store from the fridge and placed it on the coffee table imposingly. “Think you’re up for it?”

Stanford puffed out his chest in pride. “I can do it! I am a man!” He ran over to the couch and sat down, keeping his arms crossed.

Stanley threw some pajamas at him. “At least get cozy.”

Ford groaned and started taking off his clothes. Stanley found his eyes trailing over the boy’s soft body, coming to rest on the boy’s tighty whiteys. He shook his head when Stanford pulled his pj’s back on and flopped down onto the couch, cracking open a cold one with the boy. He grabbed the clicker and switched on the tv, flipping through channels until they hit some documentary and Sixer started yelling at his older brother to stop there so he could learn about jellyfish. Stanley groaned but figured the kid would only be up for a little longer so he obliged and settled back as he was lectured on the stages of jellyfish life, polyp stage, Medusa stage, blah blah blah. He sipped his beer boredly, and pulled the boy closer, offering him the bottle. “Here. You said you’d keep up with me.”

Stanford took it, a bit unsure of himself and sniffed it, recoiling a bit at the heavy fermented wheat smell. “You sure Pa won’t get mad?”

“Not if Pa doesn’t know. You gonna rat me out?”

“No.”

“Then shut up and quit worrying. Drink.” He opened another beer for himself and chugged half of it, letting out a loud long burp afterwards that sent Stanford into giggles.

“Gross Stanley!” He hit his arm and regarded the bottle before taking a tentative sip and almost spitting it out. Stanley covered his mouth.

“Swallow, Sixer.”

Ford swallowed with a shudder and let out a much smaller burp. Stanley grinned and nodded for him to keep going as the teen continued sipping his own beer. Stanford wasn’t going to back down from a challenge- he never did. So he drank. He finished the bottle about the same time that Stanley was half way through his second. He leaned back with a groan. His tummy hurt, but he didn’t feel drunk? At least, he didn’t think so?

“Hey kid, go grab those chips.” Stanley pointed to the bag of potato chips on the counter in the kitchen. “But finish this first.” He handed him the half full bottle of beer he had been working on. “Then we’ll be even.” He smirked, seeing the unsure look on Ford’s face. “Unless you’re chicken.”

Ford wrinkled his nose and tilted the bottle back, holding his breath to avoid tasting the sour liquid as it washed down his throat. He slammed the bottle down on the table, burped in his brother’s face, stood up determinedly, took one step towards the kitchen, and fell flat on his face with a groan.

Stanley burst out laughing and stood, stretching. “That was so easy. Alright, bed-“ his inebriated brain focused in on the lining of Ford’s underwear peeking out from his pajama pants. His cock jumped in his own sweats. He looked at the clock. He still had hours before their parents were home… and he and Ford had played before. It’s not like he hadn’t gotten a yes any other time he’d asked, why would this time be different. He picked the drunk kid up and tossed him on the couch.

Stanford grunted and blinked up at him. “Dizzy…”

“Shh.” He pulled the boy’s pants and underwear off, silent, and let Ford’s legs fall back onto the couch as he stared at the boy’s soft cock. He just… he needed this. He reached for another beer and took a drink of it before pushing it to his brother’s lips, making him take a drink despite Ford shaking his head. Stanley pushed Sixer back down onto the couch and pulled his cock out, stroking himself with a small groan before going down, taking Stanford’s entire package into his mouth and moving his tongue around, playing with his tiny cock and his fucking grape sized excuse for a sack. Ford let out a lewd noise, tangling small hands in his brother’s hair. “S-Stanleyyyy~” he crooned before his mouth fell open. He stared at the ceiling fan for what felt like a very long time as he focus’s on his brother’s warm mouth on his privates. He gasped- he was about to finish in his brother’s mouth when Stanley pulled off with a shimmery line of pre connecting his lips to Ford’s cock. He grabbed his brother’s legs and lifted them before spitting right onto his ass and shoving two finger into him. Ford yelped at the sudden penetration, wiggling clumsily in Stanley’s grasp but Stan had a big advantage on him in size and sobriety. “Easy buddy, I’m not gonna fuck you tonight, not really anyway. You get fingered and put to bed, that’s it.”

Ford let out an unintelligible whimpering slur of words at him that Stanley ignored as he felt around for Ford’s sweet spot. He found it quickly- he knew his way around- and didn’t let up on it, touching and feeling the boy’s prostate until Stanford came all over his own legs, blubbering and gasping. Stanley pulled his fingers out slowly and wiped them on the couch as he watched Ford catch his breath. “Are you ready for bed yet Sixer?”

Ford just closed his eyes and Stanley sighed in relief, curling around him in an apartment that was finally quiet.