#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)

[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!

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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.

[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.

[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.

[ajwrks]

—believer

overlord x gn! human reader | pt 2

once again, this isn’t 100% cannon LOL. i’ve also decided that there is going to be more than two parts to this. i was also reallyyyy thinking about having a little bit of fortress maximus x reader too because why not

word count: 1.8k | prev,, next

“what are you here for?”

chromedome's metallic voice reverberated along the narrowed hall. his words practically coaxing you to tell him, confide in him. you resisted with a stubborn close of your eyes.

why are you here? you knew that question quite well in fact. the chance to see overlord welcomed you with false hope you wished to abandon, but maybe, just maybe—

“y/n!” chromedome called out. your eyes shot up to see the lightly colored autobot looking down at you with narrowed optics through his tinted visor, darting around on your human face for a plausible answer.

“you tell me first. why are you here?” you inquired, your question dragged out with a quirk of your brow.

“i want to enter his mind.” that’s all he led with.

like a wild bird, your heart thumped erratically against the cage of your ribs, seeking air, seeking freedom from this arising feeling. cold sweat slicked your clenched palms. he’d find out. he’ll know. your thoughts reawaken with being fully cognizant of what’s about to happen—chromedome is adept in mnemosurgry and there was no doubt in your mind that he’d uncover something that would tear down your reputation here on the lost light, but it was fruitless to stop him.

“i thought you gave that up for good,” you probed him in an attempt to relent and turn around. chromedome laughed weakly.

“i thought so too,” with that, the heavy door, shy away from the entrance groaned at its rusted hinges. the phase sixer was constrained and suspended in the center of the cell. his helm lulled as he muttered the same two words.

“kill me.”

his presence alone sent sparks trickling down your spine. why were you here? well, whether you wanted to deny it or not, you were attached to this effigy of menace and grandeur.

—

garrus nine. it was a notable, high- security prison containing dangerous criminals and decepticons. so far into the crux of space; isolated, just for it to be captured by decepticons and break out into war.

during that time, you were stationed there amongst many to help cater to the needs of these… criminals. exactly like you were doing now—but except, it was a calmer bunch. it made no sense. why help the needs of the top dangerous decpticons thrown behind bars for a reason? you just needed the money and the experience, and then move on to bigger things, but other plans were made for you.

the war made your trek back to normalcy rigerious. having to hide away in the little protection provided— you and your fellow interns. it was a non-spoken rule: if you stayed out of it, you’d live. that was exactly what you all abided by. this frenzy for claiming garrus nine lasted for days, until that crazed, sadistic decepticon overlord attacked and took over the entirety of garrus nine.

overlord displayed his nature by initiating horrible experiments. he forced the prisoners to fight one another— it was perturbing. you were forced to watch. it didn’t take much time for overlord to figure out that there were organics on garrus nine. he exploited them, and you to ensure that everything he had done would be engraved deep in your mind.

so where does the attachment come from? overlord had taken an odd liking to you. on the time he did have alone, he’d call on the company of the humans to ridicule.

“you don’t look at me with much fear. i plan to change that,” oh a plan that he so desperately wanted and something he didn’t get. his grave mistake was treating you like you meant something.

—

“it’s a simple enough proposition,”

the spark extraction room resembled a murder house. neon purple energon slowly dripping off the large slab. the air was thick with the fresh scent of it, parts of the autobot that lied in a pool of his very essence were fragmented and strewn about like scattered teeth. your mind begged you to look away, but your heart protested. overlord wanted you here, he wanted your eyes to look at no one but him and his twisted actions.

“you tell me how to get into the aequitas chamber, and i make the pain stop,” he demanded with a grin dawning on his face plates. fortress maximus gave no answer— you weren’t even sure he physically could. frozen with the shock and pain coursing through him. giant nails penetrated deep into his plating, his leg missing— unease bubbled in the pit of your stomach, threatening to boil over the top and spill out.

“you’re being timed fortress maximus— every second of hesitation, i continue.” not even a second passes and overlord already has his chainsaw raised in a ready position, hovering over his other leg he was going to take. upon that sight, your head snaps away. looking at nothing but the wall. the vibration of the chainsaw stalled and silence took over.

“don’t stop looking, my sweet,” he jeered. unbearably slow, your head cranes back to look at the table and his sick operation.

he was looking at you.

fortress maximus pleaded with his dull optics. you could only do so much. the whites of your eyes swelled with your tears of sorrow.

it was over, but seemingly took centuries. his rasping screams dying in his throat— something you wished never to see or hear again.

“you did well, sweet.” that pet name made you stir from your trance. “i will make sure to reward you,” his servo palms the blade of your shoulder whilst the other one grazes over your hip. he backs away— shudders rack through your body.

“now! clean me up, would you?” he hummed with a repulsive smile. you spent an hour scrubbing away the grime and energon as he studied your efforts. he told you stories about his past experiences as a phase sixer, and even threw compliments at your face. in the weirdest way, he complimented how you are... appealing physically as an organic. it just made your brows furrow deeper the more he talked you to death.

overlord was kind enough to let you rest on his shoulder. soothing you from your nightmarish thoughts in the midst of your slumber. it meant nothing to him, but everything to you.

—

you knew very well that these moments wouldn’t last forever. the wreckers had came to garrus nine to claim what they had lost. you had no idea what had happened outside of the prison, but upon your rescue and being escorted onto a spacecraft you saw overlords skeletal remains— perfectly intact. his outer shell reduced to nothing but loose embers. you stopped in your tracks to fully grasp what you were seeing.

overlord was gone.

“it’s okay. he’s gone,” a human, feminine voice spoke to you, trying to comfort your worries, but you had none. at least not the type of worries she thought you had. the woman in the red space armor put pressure on your back to keep you going. you obliged.

that day, you never thought you’d see him again. until the news of overlords reconstruction came to you— through a connection, you easily found out that prowl was adamant about developing autobot phase sixers and tried hard to convince chromedome to get into overlords mind and scrape up the things they needed to commence the process. the only bit of relevant information you needed was where overlord was being moved to, and it was the lost light. it was laughable at how quickly rodimus succumbed to the demands of prowl. they needed human liaisons, and you needed to be one of them.

acting like you never knew of overlords existence was the key so you could wait for the perfect moment to exploit it, and it was given to you on a silver platter.

—

chromedomes spikes that extended from his fingers were embedded deep into overlords helm. there’s no telling how long this has been going on for. you stood there patiently, watching every subtle move, expression, twitch of the eyes, every mutter or breath— your back was stiffly planted up against the burning cell wall. you always wondered why chromedome pursued a profession as inherently bad as this one. he knew the drawbacks but still persisted.

“megatron is alive?!” overlords voice was quiet but thunderous. there was a shift in the air, growing dense. you jolted from his outburst watching the events unfold. his optics flicker with ruby red with a stretching smile that promised something sufferable but intangible.

seconds pass

minutes pass

with the pull of his outstretched arms, overlord effortlessly breaks through his shackles. like playing cards toppling over from its highest peak, and to gracefully fall to the ground. a grin— feral and triumphant tugged at overlords face. you watched as he knelt down to gaze down at chromedome who lied pathetically on the floor.

“breaking free of these paper chains was never the problem— i just lacked the motivation. but if megatron is alive, then there’s everything to play for,” he leaned in closer. “don’t worry. you’ll find your voice and your legs soon enough. you know the side effects of prolonged deep reading better than i do,”

his optics now landed on you, sneering as he made his way to you. his looming presence intimidated you after so long. you felt the wall pressing into your back once more.

“now, i remember seeing you in his memory,” he bent down to meet your gaze. a rough servo clamping down on your chin to direct your attention properly. you winced quietly but obeyed his silent command. “i must say, i didn’t expect my dear organic to follow me to the end of the universe—“

“i wanted to be with you.”

distance was non existent as he was closer than before. you could feel his exhales fan your face— your lips. you could tell overlord didn’t expect those words to fall out of your mouth.

“you left me.”

the crack of your voice told you to back away, but the iron grip he had on you was going to make that impossible. after a while, overlords expression relaxed slightly, and so did his hold. he looked back at chromedome steadily, recovering his strength again. he released you.

“your devotion is admirable,” dryness clung to his words. leaving you to crumble down further onto the floor. you couldn’t help but ponder to yourself if this was all for nothing. overlord explained to chromedome on how he won’t attempt to block his way to get to him, but for the time down here in the chamber, five seconds is all it’ll take.

“run as fast as you can chromedome. you’re already too late,”

the vault door closed. letting darkness engulf the chamber. the faint orange lights buzzed against its fleeting life span. chromedome struggled to get up on his pedes. he briefly paused to watch your sobbing figure. hurriedly he reached you in staggered steps to assist you from up off the floor.

“i’m sorry chromedome i—“

“it wasn’t your fault,” he hushed you with the remaining calmness he had. to his best ability, he got you and him to the chamber door and plugged in the code. chromedome darted out, running up the hallway stairs to the shining light. you followed right behind him.

you were met with a chaotic scene. a storm of bodies attacking overlord.

as cowardly as it was, all you could do was watch.

[alexxness]

Against Us - A Short Fiddauthor FanFic

Another one shot I've just posted on AO3!!

I don't think I've ever seen anyone writing or drawing comics about Fiddleford or Ford suffering from homophobia back in college, which I'm glad btw!! But they were living in the 70s back then, so I wrote this quick one-shot about them comforting each other because of homophobic people in college. (They are dating in this one-shot btw)

Btw, see if you can guess which song Fiddleford was actually listening to in the beginning ;]

Fiddleford was, once again, doing his homework, this time listening to “Pack Your Bags, Mack" on a cassette player he borrowed from Stanford.

He was alone in their room… He wondered where his roommate had gone since Sixer is usually the one arriving first. As soon as that thought came, Ford entered the room in a rush.

“Oh, hey Stanford. I thought you’d never arrive, is everything ok?” he says, while pausing the song.

“Oh yes, I’m fine, it’s nothing important.” the six-fingered responded, tossing his coat to his bed.

“You sure? You came in in a rush, were you… running from someone?--” Fiddleford concerningly wondered.

“I said I’m fine...”

“Okay… If you say so.” the Western boy responded, focusing on his homework once again.

Ford sighs. Fiddleford knew something was up, but Sixer didn’t want to bother his roommate with the same conversation over and over… Besides, just because Fiddleford is his boyfriend now, doesn’t mean he has to protect him all the time, Ford can defend himself.

“You know that guy in our, huh–” Stanford pauses.

Fiddleford turned his chair to listen to his partner.

“What guy?” he asked.

“That annoying guy from our chemistry class?” Sixer takes off his glasses to rub his eyes.

“Wait, wait… Are you talking about Roderick? Roderick Thompson?” Fiddleford assumes.

“Yeah, that guy,” Ford responds while wearing his glasses again.

“Oh gee, what happened?” the Western boy concerningly asked, as if it wasn’t the first time he had heard about this guy.

“The usual shit. I was just coming in a worry because I just COULDN’T. TAKE IT. Ugh, I wish I could just– Hit him, but I know I’m no better if I do so.” Ford looks at his fingers.

“Good that you have that common sense. But ‘ya know, some limits should be drawn sometimes, and I think Roderick has passed that limit for a long time.”

“What are you suggesting me to do?”

“I ain’t suggesting ‘ya anything. I mean, I go there and–”

“No, Fiddleford. I don’t need you to go there and defend me, I can do it myself.”

“I know, but– I don’t want ‘ya to go through this alone, besides… Roderick does kinda pick on me too.”

“What?”

“Yeah… I apologize I never told you.”

“Oh no, it’s ok. I completely understand you.” Ford paused “But… Hey, I know I ain’t no example, but you know you can tell me anything, right?” he seats next to Fiddleford.

“Yes, I know. And I appreciate that you are here for me, I’ll always be here for ‘ya too.” Fiddleford holds his partner’s hands.

“Of course.”

They silently looked at each other’s eyes, almost like they had a heart-shaped reflection inside.

“So like… What type of things did Roderick do to you…? If you don’t mind me asking.” Ford wondered.

“Well, the usual shit. Calls me a nerd, a weirdo, a freak…” Fiddleford paused, looking away “He called me ‘queer’ as an insult.”

“Oh.” the six-fingered has no words.

“Yeah. I just never told anyone about this, because I’m afraid my grandma may find out, and lemme tell ‘ya, she’s not kind to people like us, Stanford!” Fiddleford exclaimed with tears in his eyes.

“Oh, Fiddleford. I’m– I’m so sorry.” Ford softly hugged his partner.

“I love my grandma, but if she found out I’m with you, she’s– She’d go crazy.”

“I know. My parents ain’t no different, especially because of my religion.” Stanford responds while laying his head on Fiddleford’s shoulder.

Fiddleford sighs and lays on Ford’s head. “Why do our families have to be against us?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure in the future things will be greater for us though, but for now, I think we just have to live with this…”

[boredgirl2004]

Part 2 of Day 2: The book

As I said the words aloud, nothing had happened, I was relieved but also a bit angry. The nightmare that scared every loving ⬧︎♒︎♓︎⧫︎ out of me, that asked me to open this stupid book and to find that nothing came of it?!!! I was angry that my mind was playing tricks on me, so I took my hand off the page and reached the book cover so I could close it. 

“What a waste of time!! First, the stupid dream asks me to open the book. I finally give in and open it only for there to be a warning from a guy who I don’t even know and instructions to summon whatever this ring is only for it to not do any-” I was immediately cut off from my hand being sucked back to the bloody handprint, the handprint, and red words emitted a bloody bright red glow, I left my blood being sucked out of my fingertips, I the pages in the book turning, they were quickly changing, from a burnt bloody page to a much cleaner and whiter one, immediately words began to appear, in all caps said the word “HAHA” over and over and over on the two pages, I immediately grabbed one of my books I had bought from Barnes and noble, only to be in shock to see that it had the same font and same words as repeated in the book of the bill. It was like those computer glitches, where the code would just repeat itself over and over after the system was hacked. Everything in the room began to shake until it began to float. Finally, one page of the book had the triangle figure appear, it pressed itself onto the page until it burst through. As it did, everything in my room slowly began to be set down. It began to speak.

“Well, well, well! Here we are at last!!! I’ve been waiting an ETERNITY to meet you, and I know you’ve been waiting nearly as long to meet me!!” I stood there in shock that the book or thing or whatever this was was talking to me! This couldn’t be real, it can’t be and how could it be?!

“Breath it in a second pal-this moment of anticipation! You always suspected this day would come, and it finally has! Your life will forever be divided into two halves: before you met me and AFTER. Welcome to the after!” It continued as I looked at it and began to stutter, trying to find my words. I didn’t know what to say about this situation as a whole! I wasn’t sure how to react. This was all confusing and shocking. I knew Stanford, the man who warned me to not turn the page said to not believe a thing this book says but I didn’t know it would be this weird!!! 

The thing talked over me while my brain was crashing, trying to find something, some word to say about all of this. “You’re probably wondering, “Bill, you’re an all-powerful being. Why write a book, huh? Why let me read it? Also, aren’t you dead? Are you dead or what? What’s the deal?” I have no idea what you mean…”  the page had turned on its own to reveal a dark silhouette of the triangle being. Its eye is emitting a glitchy, yellow and red hue as its mouth opens to reveal its crooked teeth (Bill needs to see a dentist fr fr) 

“I’m….p e r f e c t l y…..f I n e”

Before I could finally speak and probably ask my question since from his tone, it seemed like whatever happened last time didn’t go so well. I was rudely interrupted yet again. 

“In fact, I'm better than fine, because might feel silo And there's a lot we can do together! Oh, you might feel silly about "meeting" me. After all, "Bill Cipher" is imaginary. You're real and I'm not, right?

BUT ARE YOU SO SURE ABOUT THAT?

After all, you're mortal. One day, you'll be dust. But I'm an idea. And an idea can't be killed. So that's me 1, you o on the immortality front! And if I'm the eternal one and you're the temporary one, THEN IT MIGHT BE WISE FOR YOU TO GET ON THE WINNING SIDE EARLY, YOU DIG?

I know that drama queen Sixer warned you not to read this book, didn't he? Maybe the old nerd is right! Weak minds have gone crazy from just ONE glimpse at my TANTALIZING FORBIDDEN SECRETS! (Sees the hickory-smoked crater where

McGucket's brain used to be!)

But if you're as sharp as I think you are ... and if you're curious about the meaning of life, how to cheat death, Pine Tree's most embarrassing dreams, and your own interesting future, then I'll consider making a deal with you. How about a trade? I'll let you read my book in exchange for a favor down the line. We can work out the details later. What do you say?

TAKE BILL'S DEAD

YES?

TURN THE PAGE

No?

TURN TO PAGE 77”

I hesitated to turn the page, I slowly began to think about my choice. There were many cons to this, from what the guy wrote in the previous pages, he expressed how much meeting bill would be a regret for those who continue with turning the pages in this book; I don’t even know what Bill could do to me from just turning the pages in this book. What if I’m walking into a trap? What if there is more to this than what he’s letting on? What if-

“Ah, look at you, all tangled up in your own thoughts. Overthinking is such a waste of time! You’re so close to getting everything you desire, but you’re letting doubt hold you back. Come on, what’s the point of hesitation? Life’s too short for that kind of nonsense. Just turn the page, and I promise you—things will get a lot more interesting. And if you keep dithering, well, I might just start making decisions for you. So, what’s it gonna be? Ready to embrace a little chaos and get what you really want?” I looked down at the page to see Bill was in a sitting position, his leg crossed over the other and his expression expressed how bored and impatient he was from me thinking my choices. I was worried about how he could be speaking to me like this when he’s in  a book, this isn’t possible it just- isn’t-

 “Your hesitation is almost charming, but it’s getting a bit tiresome, don’t you think? Besides, if you’re worried about the logistics of me being here, maybe you should focus more on the opportunities I’m offering instead of waddling over what’s right. Overthinking won’t get you anywhere, dollface. So, why not stop doubting and start acting? The more you dawdle, the more interesting things will get when you finally make a choice.” He said with a mixture of smugness and amusement as he stared at me from the page. I sigh and remember my task. Find a way to destroy the book from the inside out, focus on not believing what he says, even if it’s too good, I kept repeating the same sentence in my head over and over as my confidence began building itself up as I reached the page. Still, I pause as I look at Bill and begin to speak. 

“If you’re are this bill-person that this guy Stanford Pines warned me about, how can I trust you despite the warnings in the previous pages he wrote before? What is something you could say that’ll convince me that I shouldn’t just close this book and leave it in my room, never to be opened again?” I waited for the bill's response, which didn’t take long, and had no thought. 

"Oh, come on now! Sixer was always so serious, wasn’t he? Just a big bundle of paranoia and charts. But listen to me: I’m not here to cause trouble—well, not just trouble. I’m here to offer you a chance for a bit of fun, a touch of excitement, and maybe a sprinkle of chaos. What’s life without a little unpredictability, right? Close the book and you miss out on all the cosmic shenanigans I have in store. Open it, and you might just find yourself in a whirlwind of adventure. I’m all about making things interesting and trust me, you don’t want to miss what comes next. So, are you in, or are you going to play it safe and dull? Your choice!" He said in a calming tone. 

It wasn’t enough to convince me. I sighed and began to speak once more but this time I was faking my boredom. “Not convincing enough. Well Bill, it was nice meeting you even though it didn’t last very long but hey, this is my imagination just like you said right?” I say as I slowly begin to close the book. Bill responded with a slight stutter but he quickly covered it up with his nonchalance, “Oh, come on now, don't be so hasty! You’re not going to shut me out, are you? I mean, who knows what you might be missing? I wouldn’t want you to close the book before you've had the chance to experience everything I have to offer. After all, isn’t that the fun part of imagination—exploring the unknown? Give it a little more time. What’s a little more curiosity going to hurt?” I paused, the book was nearly closed but I  slowly opened it back up. There was nothing but silence from both of us for a while until I turned the page. Bill's attitude changed immediately. 

“Right choice, bone sack! Welcome to the Book of…” The page was now a biblical book cover of the Book Of Bill, Bill continued “No, no! That won’t do! Do you call that a cover? What is this, amateur hour? I can do better than that!” As Bill stared at the cover, I replied “Well, I don’t see you as a professional, Maybe try something more….You?” I said a bit awkwardly. Bill looked at me nodded in agreement and turned his back to me as he snapped his fingers, the next page had turned by itself, revealing four different covers. The first had a realistic appearance, it was in the middle of a farm, a storm right above it, and the clouds emitted lighting that took the shape of Bill. “Too basic!” He snapped his fingers again to reveal a book that reminded me of those horror books of goosebumps made for kids back in the 80s, I think they also made a show about it but that was years ago. “Too nostalgic.” He snapped once more to reveal a cover that I would see here, too many Bibles that had Jesus or god descending from heaven and floated above the person praying to one of them. “Too preachy.” He said out of boredom as he snapped again. I could hear a saxophone playing sexy music, it revealed a buff Bill Cipher holding a woman, they were in a field, their hairs blowing in the wind. I couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the cover. “Too ravishing!” I wiped my tears and tried to control my laughter. 

“You think?” I said as I laughed once more as I wheezed out that Bill doesn’t even have hair or a human-like body. It looked so wrong to me but that’s what made it funny. Finally, Bill settled on a cover, It reminded me of someone on their computer trying to make the title and using as little effort to make it until they settled with Bill being tapped to the cover, misscapitalized and misspelled words, a tab saying “Good job Bill” with some emojis and a menu from right-clicking the picture. “There we go! Perfect! The crowd LOVES it!” I smiled and looked at him. “I bet they love it. It shows the author more than ever!” I say jokingly even though it was like a kid was in charge of making this cover. I see a bloody fingerprint at the right bottom corner of the page that says “Put thumb here”. The fingerprint had veins on the side of it causing me to be a bit concerned. “With that all out of the way, all this book needs is some ink! Hey, can I borrow some of your blood? Just press your thumb here, and I’ll absorb some right into the page! You won’t even notice it's gone!” I hesitated until I gained confidence and gently pressed my thumb on the bottom corner of the page, I felt a sharp pain on my thumb as if my thumb was being pricked and the blood was slowly leaving it. I tried to pull it off only for more blood to be sucked out of it. I kept trying to remove my thumb from the page, it was stuck there after a few pulls but after the fourth time, the book at finally let my thumb go.

Note: Hiiii, sorry for taking so long. Busy with life but anyway! I wanted to have Bill be more interactive so I tried my best trying to imitate the character the best I could.