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#this alien is just triangles
shiny-heart-tree · 1 year
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Electric living triangle
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luc1ferian · 5 days
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Hi I'm thinking about writing a h2g2 and gravity falls crossover fic. I saw your post awhile ago and I was wondering if you had any idea on how the two fords would interact.
Oooh this is a really good idea!
Hm, I haven't properly watched Gravity Falls in a while (I KNOW IM SORRY), but comparing their personalities from what i know they have a couple similarities and differences.
For first interactions I'm not entirely sure how or where, neither of them are naturally social but if someone were to start a conversation it would be Prefect, and once they realize they're both named Ford P. they'd hit off perfectly.
I think they'd love to go out for a small drink and talk about their outlooks on life, about space, their own traumas and relationships, about their research and studies with their respective books (Pines to the Journals, and Prefect to the Guide), and about their plans for future. This interaction could also be a lot funnier depending on the tone you wanted to take.
Ooooh they could also rant about their annoying family members (Zaphod and Stan)
They would also engage in an epic game of Dungeons & More Dungeons no doubt
#if you ever end up writing this fic please feel free to send me it when you're ready i would love to see it :)#okay okay im not sure if you were only planning for the fords to interact but a full crossover is immediately interesting me now#hmm maybe the HoG malfuctions with the improbability drive on and it crashes into the mystery shack immediately i think that would be silly#i'm really interested in bill and arthur interactions now as well. they barely have any similarities but it sounds really funny#oh wait they could relate to their world's being destroyed...even though bill's the one who destroyed his own world#i think the pines twins would immediately lose their marbles over ford and zaphod being *real life* aliens#ford prefect would give dipper his copy of the Guide that man would give a 6 year old a laser blaster this is tame for him lol#mabel would be super insane over the fact that zaphod has 2 heads and 3 arms and was also a president and zaphod would. not care#(i head canon he dislikes children)#i think a mabel and marvin interaction would be cool too#uber depressed and uber excited#i also need zaphod and stan relations yeahhhhh 2 greedy often self-absorbed criminals probably wanted across all 4 dimensions#i want to see trillian and arthur summon bill cipher by complete accident because they were bored and they are simply just Normal Guys#neither of them would be surprised to see a floating yellow triangle with a tophat. they've seen too much at this point this would be norma#someone needs to restrain me i've made too many tags#ANYWHO happy writing!! im sorry if i sound demanding you get to choose whatever you would like for your story i just got a little silly#i hope i answered your question enough#h2g2#the hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy#ford prefect#gravity falls#ford pines#stanford pines#ask#tumblr asks#lucifers gluttony#lucifers inferno
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astranauticus · 2 months
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some characters i like as visuals from music ive enjoyed recently: less of a sketch dump and more of a really weird way to deliver a music rec list
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thiscatiscreepy · 2 months
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Other people creaturefying the mechs: soooo their ears are longer and pointier, I'll give them a lil tail with some fur at the end, slightly sharper teeth would look good, maybe they'll even have some scales, aww they look so cute :)
Me creaturefying the mechs: what if Ivy was a huge praying mantis.
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fishgirl514 · 4 months
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airplane yaoiiiiiiiii✈️
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whysamwhy123 · 1 year
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Also, this: E.T, but like...with wrestling...
Please explain! It sounds delightfully different.
*nervous laughter* It sure is...different. This is one of those ideas that I truly do not believe would appeal to anyone other than me. I'll most likely never write this or post it for various reasons, but I'll give a summary and throw together a little snippet from a random scene. Basically, on the way home from an indie show, Jim sees a woman, Kris, fall from the sky and land in a dumpster (because wacky meetcute!). Turns out, she's a straight-up alien who ran away from home and accidentally ended up on Earth! So Jim helps her acclimatise to life on this strange new planet and through him, she discovers pro wrestling, falls in love with it and decides she's gonna be a wrestler too! And then whoops, there ends up being a love triangle, with Jim being torn between his longstanding feelings for Dustin and his newer feelings, falling hard for Kris, god why am I like this this is terrible I should never be allowed to write anything
''So...let me get this straight,'' Dustin said, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. ''You met a girl after the show, brought her home...and then proceeded to give her your bed while you slept on our couch? Jim, buddy, I think you missed out on some crucial steps here...''
''Maybe this is his kink?'' Greg suggested helpfully.
Jim threw his hands up. ''No, I told you, it's not like that!''
''Then what is it like?'' Dustin asked.
Jim ummed and erred for a few seconds. How was he supposed to explain this to them? He barely understood what was going on himself!
''She...she says she's not from around here, exactly.''
''You mean Philly?''
Jim gave a long sigh. ''Yes. She is definitely not from Philly...''
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destinyandcoins · 2 years
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not to be all “there’s other science we don’t know about”* on main but it pisses me right off when people wave off the possibility of aliens having visited us because there’s no hard evidence we have to study/test because like. sir how do YOU know what kind of evidence a highly advanced alien space-faring society would leave on our planet for us to analyze and decide is not of this world.
you can’t even get a man to mars with our current technology and you’re telling me you know what beings from a different galaxy would be using to visit earth and what residue that might leave for us to observe??
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fordp1nes · 1 month
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favorite stan twins characterization is that they're both equally insane. stanley just gets more air time to show it off. loosely inspired by a post i read earlier but here's some absolutely insane things both of them have done
stanley:
drugged a person and turned them into an exhibit in the mystery shack
had a vegas wedding to a prospector-themed novelty dispenser
gave mabel a grappling hook
failed to steal an animatronic badger
chewed his way out of the trunk of a car
punched at least three bald eagles
is multiply divorced, possibly even with the novelty dispenser
committed premeditated murder on a llama
faked a heart attack to get on Wheel of Fortune
took his clothes off in front of a live studio audience on Wheel of Fortune
has a rivalry with a fifth grader, a grandmother, and a man who exclusively dresses like a corn cob
stanford:
pulled a gun on a bus driver when he wouldn't let a pig on board
directly assisted in mind-controlling ronald reagan during his election in 1980
gave mabel a crossbow
got bitten by a vampire bat and subsequently began sampling human blood
owns contraband outlawed in 9000 dimensions; keeps it in an extremely flimsy plastic case
"accidentally" set a hawk on fire
has exes ranging from as normal as his old college buddy to as weird as a triangle and an alien with 7 eyes who put a metal plate in his head
wears turtlenecks because he's hiding multiple tattoos he regrets, including one themed around "all star" by smash mouth
is an Extremely wanted criminal across hundreds of dimensions; was completely kicked out of one for card counting
is, bizarrely, super into the band Eurythmics
can see shrimp colors
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Stephenie Meyer's sci-fi novel The Host is like. it's almost so much. the alien bodysnatchers at the center of the plot are like Animorph's yeerks if they got really into cottagecore. no, they don't want intergalactic war and domination! they want intergalactic peace and domination! they make every planet they visit a peaceful socialist utopia and like, okay, yes, they have to violently take over the bodies of a planet's native inhabitants to do it. yes, they have to suppress the unwilling minds of their host bodies. yes they are for all intents and purposes committing a genocide of their chosen planets' initial inhabitants and then puppeting their husks around playing at homogeneous, sanitized versions of the cultures they destroyed. the alien main character mentions that even episodes of the Brady Bunch were scrubbed because they were deemed too violent. and they call themselves souls, which is so loaded on so many levels. impossible not to read into the spiritual connotations, especially when written by an author coming from the mormon church which so highly values mission trips. just by sympathizing with humans who don't want to be possessed, by helping them hide out and stay free, our protagonist becomes a pariah, an outlaw from her own society. peace is valued above all else but not peace for the colonized, who are meat to be processed. it's better this way. they had so much potential but squandered it with foolish violence so now we have the right to overtake them and make them live correctly. isn't it beautiful now? isn't everything perfect? there's like almost so much happening in this story except Stephenie's a fucking mormon so she never draws any meaningful connections to anything and the happy ending is that the alien brain parasite protag is gifted the body of a beautiful coma patient that she can "ethically" puppet around, easy peasy problem solved. also there's a fucking love triangle.
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magnoliamyrrh · 1 year
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Hey. remember how this whole thing started years ago with that article abt the pentagons secrets ufo program. yea. turns out. high chances are that program was made to steal 22$ million of tax payer money, and pour some of it into fucking skinwalker ranch - which if you dont know is a famous paranormal&alien activity site that they made a god awful netflix show about - and to also "study" such things as werewolves, ghosts, mutated murderous beavers, intra-dimensional portals, and ufos. also love it bc one of the dudes involved is partially responsabile for that giant crazy "the us government abducted me to turn me into a super secret space agent who has superpowers" conspiracy theory floating around
.......werewolves.... taxpayer money... 22$ mill
lmaoooo we live in a cosmic joke. god damn
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mallleus · 25 days
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I like how outta the two of them, to everyone’s surprise, Stan is better suited to look after kids than ford. (Just outta of the two of them)
Now here come y’all in the comments “ but OP Stan is-“ Ford is feral. That man spent 30 years in different dimensions, he is masking right now, he is 100% batshit insane.
The worst Stan would do is shoplift and con someone. Ford stays strapped 24/7, that man is WAITING FOR ANYTHING VAGUELY RESEMBLING AN ISOSCELES TRIANGLE TO TRY HIM.
He gave Mabel a weapon and expected her to be normal about it! HE TOOK DIPPER TO AN ALIEN SPACECRAFT NOT KNOWING IF ALL ALIENS WERE 100% DEAD OR NOT!!! Literally has a mind-controlling device on standby.
STAN WAS RIGHT FOR TELLING HIM TO STAY AWAY FROM THE KIDS BECAUSE HE ACTIVELY PUT THEM IN HARMS WAY (unintentionally but still!!!!)
edit cuz everyone keeps saying it:
Ford wanted Dipper as his apprentice and let's not forget he even admitted to carrying an outlawed infinity dice in a cheap plastic case and then LEFT IT IN WITH REGULAR DICE IN THE D&D&D EPISODE. He and Dipper wouldn't have had to have been saved had he just not had it on his person/kept it contained properly in the first place. He is an actual danger to children
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thicctails · 1 month
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I need more info on the get better children au, especially about when Bill shows up.
*rubs hands together* I finally got some extra time to draw up some new art for this AU, so let's give it some substance >:3 Long post below the read more with extra art :D
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Before Euclydia was destroyed, Euclid and Scalene Cipher were some of its most powerful members. Bill saying that everyone loved him as a baby was true for a time; children aren't born very often, and the Ciphers are considered to almost be royalty. It wasn't until Bill's mutation became apparent that people began to shun him. If he had been born to any other family, he likely would have been abandoned.
Though neither Euclid nor Scalene could really comprehend the concept of something being "up", let alone what "stars" could possibly be, both of them used their status to try and find any scrap of forbidden information, hoping that they could find an answer, could find some confirmation that their son wasn't crazy, and didn't need to be blinded by his "medicine."
It was this research that eventually saved their lives. Having the knowledge that it was possible for things to, hypothetically, exist in a three dimensional plane allowed them to pool their powers and create 3D forms for themselves when Euclydia began to burn, pulling themselves off the 2D plane like a sticker being peeled off a page. It wasn't a smooth transition in the slightest, and the flames managed to damage parts of their bodies before they managed to fully free themselves. The rest of their power went into escaping their collapsing reality, and when all was said and done, they were left near catatonic and floating in the space between time and space for many, many years.
They don't really start to recover until a certain frilly guy upstairs nudges them into a new, stable dimension. This one is almost entirely 3D, and inhabited by creatures that look completely alien to the Euclydians. Creatures called humans.
They meet Dipper and Mabel not long after, and the two triangles attach themselves to the babies, doing their best to care for them in their weakened states when their young, unprepared parents fail to be adequate caretakers. Being 2D is far easier for them, so they stick to the walls like shadows and find ways to speak to the twins, slipping into videos and pictures, music and books, their forms changing slightly to match whatever media they slipped into. They teach Dipper and Mabel their colours, shapes, ABC's, ect, comfort them when they get sad or scared, and once they're old enough, how to do basic things like getting themselves food and water when they get left alone too long.
Neither Pines parent really notices their children making grabby hands and babbling at open air at first, though they do become a bit concerned when years pass and they still stare at walls and empty corners like there's something there.
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Eventually, as we all know, the Pines twins get shipped off to a sleepy town in Oregon, and Euclid and Scalene are, of course, coming along to watch over their little stars. However, they become deeply uncomfortable when they start to see visages of their son carved into every room of the twin's temporary home.
It doesn't take long for the show's antics to start, but Grunkle Stan gets involved in the twins adventures far earlier because during The Inconveniecing, Euclid uses his ability to manipulate televisions to play one of those old PSA's on loop until he gets spooked enough to actually check on the twins, only to find them missing.
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Eventually, through the help of Scalene using a radio to drag up an old advert for the Dusk 2 Dawn, he figures out where they are and arrives just in time to see the tail end of their ghostly encounter. Unable to deny his knowledge of Gravity Falls' weirdness, he and the twins have their Season 1 finale talk that night, and Dipper shows Stan Journal 3, which leads to all three of them searching for Journal 2 (Stan doesn't reveal the portal yet)
Bill gets summoned by Gideon like in Canon, but things veer wildly off course when, upon entering Stan's mind, Mabel asks him if he knows Euclid or Scalene. He freezes up upon hearing the names of his parents, and he immediately calls off the deal with Gideon, ripping himself out of Stan's Dreamscape. Before he can process what happened, he comes face to face with someone he's only seen in daymares for the past trillion years
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Bill dips the fuck out once he realizes he's not hallucinating, disappearing to Axolotl knows where to do fun, productive things such as: scream, cry, break shit, sob on the floor, drink until the teeth in his eye ache, stare at the space between stars for days on end, and interrogate every single one of his henchmaniacs to see if they spiked his drink.
Mans has absolutely zero clue on how to navigate this situation, eventually settling on stalking the Pines because he genuinely cannot think of any possible way to approach his (apparently alive????) parents. How do you go about atoning for the extinction of your entire species?
Bill Cipher has never been one to do things for others for any other reason than to get something back, but he figures the best place to start is by protecting these fleshy human young that his parents seem so attached to.
Wait, would that make them siblings? Axolotl, he sure hopes not.
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cedarmoonzz · 1 month
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Hello! I was wondering if I could request a small continuing to your Ford fic? I really enjoyed it and tugged my heart strings. I love you work so much and if your able to do that without any issue, I'd love that!😭💜
yes! i love that six fingered cartoon dilf with every fiber of my being!
once more to see you •。ꪆৎ ˚
continuation of: between the bars followed by: slow like honey
fandom: gravity falls
ship: ford x reader
content: angst, stanford's poor attempt at comfort lol
summary: when your fiancé’s episodes of paranoia spiral out of control, you come to a difficult realization.
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You’ve always seen yourself as someone grounded in logic. Pragmatic to the bone, you’ve relied on reason and science to navigate life, finding comfort in facts and the concrete reality they bring. But lately, that sense of security has started to unravel. 
The cabin was frigid, its icy air wrapping around you like a shroud, seeping into your very bones despite your efforts to ward off the chill. The socks you wore—a secret purchase made without Stanford’s knowledge—offered little warmth, though they  greatly softened the sound of your steps as you quietly drifted from the bedroom to the kitchen, then to the closet, nursing your third cup of coffee that night. Each breath you took was quick, shallow, as if the cold air was stealing it away. As you finally settled at the desolate kitchen table, a wry thought flickered in your mind: could the layers of plywood and fiberglass beneath you truly muffle the frantic beating of your heart, hiding it from your fiancé’s ever-watchful ear? In your own, the rhythm pounded, echoing like a circle of drums, impossibly loud in the oppressive stillness of the cabin.
Stanford’s paranoia didn’t burst into your lives all at once; it crept in quietly, almost imperceptibly, like a shadow growing longer at dusk. It all began when he developed a peculiar fascination with triangles—a simple, geometric shape that, in his hands, took on a life of its own. He transformed the cabin, once a place of warmth and refuge, into a gallery of trigonometric stained glass, each piece more elaborate, more intricate than the last. At first, you found it endearing, even charming, and you laughed it off as just another of his harmless quirks. You told yourself it was just Stanford being Stanford, his brilliant mind forever chasing new ideas.
But as the days turned into weeks, the triangles began to multiply. Their sharp, precise edges cast strange, fragmented light across your home, turning familiar spaces into something alien, almost unrecognizable. You began to notice how the once-welcoming cabin now felt distorted, its atmosphere thick with an unspoken tension. And yet, you didn’t see it for what it was—not at first. You didn’t want to see it. You told yourself it was just the glass, just the way the light hit it, just the way Stanford was channeling his creativity. You ignored the way your stomach twisted with unease, dismissed the creeping dread that settled in your bones.
You shook your head, trying to banish the haunting thoughts that swirled in your mind. There was no time to dwell on what had already happened; what mattered now was moving forward. Rising from your seat, you made your way to the bedroom you and Ford once shared, a space now overshadowed by his office chair, which had become his sanctuary. You reached into the closet, your fingers brushing against the familiar fabric of your thick army jacket. The worn texture offered a rare comfort, a tangible reminder of a time before everything had shifted. As you fumbled through the pockets, your hand closed around a pack of cigarettes—an old habit you had left behind during your second year of graduate school. A fleeting wave of nostalgia washed over you, mingled with regret for the time lost. You slipped the pack back into your pocket and donned the jacket, its sturdy fabric promising some semblance of protection against the biting night winds and the snow that still whirled outside the closed window.
Your gaze then fell upon your boots, left carelessly on the closet floor, caked in mud from past forest excursions with Stanford. You reached down, lifting them with a mixture of sentiment and practicality. With the boots in hand, you carefully descended the stairs, each step deliberate to avoid the creaking floorboards. At the kitchen door, you set the boots down and slipped them on, their familiar weight grounding you in the present. Quietly, you opened the door, the chill of the night air meeting you as you stepped into the darkness, ready to face whatever lay beyond.
You stood on the porch of your home, clad in baggy sweatpants, an oversized coat, and your old brown army boots. The cold night air wrapped around you, but the weight of the familiar clothing offered a small measure of comfort. You instinctively reached into your pocket, a gesture that felt oddly nostalgic, like reconnecting with a part of yourself that had been missing. Pulling out a cigarette, you brought it to your lips, and then you fumbled into your other pocket, searching for a long-abandoned lighter. Your fingers brushed against the cold metal as you hoped to find one still with fluid.
After a moment of fishing, you finally found it. With a deep breath, you shut your eyes, the cigarette resting between your fingers as you brought the lighter to your face. The small flame flickered to life, illuminating your face in the darkness as you lit your former vice. You’d given up smoking years ago, recognizing it as a bad coping mechanism, though it had always managed to calm your nerves better than any of the so-called remedies Stanford had suggested—yoga, green tea, or otherwise. Stanford had never missed an opportunity to chide you about it, yet in moments like these, when the world felt overwhelming and uncertain, the familiar warmth of the smoke provided a fleeting solace, a small rebellion against the chaos of your thoughts.
You couldn’t shake the image of your fiancé from your mind. The one person you had always relied on as your rock, your steadfast partner in all things logical and real, now seemed a stranger. He had become obsessed, shining a flashlight into your eyes, searching for something hidden in the depths of your pupils. Each time that harsh beam flickers across your eyes, it chips away at your sense of reality, leaving you to wonder if his strange behavior is a sign of something far darker lurking beneath the surface. The familiar comfort of the cigarette seemed almost to mock the confusion and dread that now defined your days, as if trying to find stability in a world that had become increasingly alien.
“[Y/n].” Ford’s voice sliced through your reverie, its suddenness filling you with an indescribable anxiety. The feeling was sharp and unsettling, a gnawing presence that you couldn't quite classify as rational or otherwise. It wrapped around you like a cold fog, clouding your thoughts and intensifying the sense of disorientation that had already taken root.
He stood behind you in the doorway, the light from behind casting a soft, almost ethereal glow around him. From this angle, you might have thought he looked perfect, a vision of calm and composure that seemed untouched by the chaos of your shared reality. The gentle halo of light made him appear almost otherworldly, a serene figure caught in a moment of stillness.
Yet, his appearance betrayed a different story. His hair was frantic and messy, a wild tangle of curls that seemed to reflect his inner turmoil. The bags under his eyes had deepened, etched by sleepless nights and relentless stress. Despite the disarray, there was a softness in his gaze, a look of tenderness you had missed with all your heart. It was a fleeting reminder of the warmth and affection that once defined your relationship, now overshadowed by the encroaching distance and disquiet that had come to dominate your lives.
You had tried so damn hard to stay quiet, to remain out of his way. You'd let him overwork himself to the bone if that’s what he wanted, even though it felt like a slow erosion of everything you once knew. You’d had the argument too many times to care by now, the words always seeming to fall on deaf ears. All you wanted was to avoid the inevitable confrontation, to give him space, even as his obsessive behavior grew ever more unsettling. 
"Stanford," was all you said in response, your voice barely more than a whisper. You lifted the cigarette from your lips, the smoke pooling around you like a hazy veil. As you exhaled, you cast a glance up the staircase, the familiar sight offering no answers, only a silent reminder of the space between you both.
“You’ve started smoking again,” he observed, his tone carrying a note of quiet surprise. The statement lingered in the air, the drifting smoke accentuating the distance between you. It was as if the sight of the cigarette in your hand was a reflection of the changes he could no longer ignore.
“Didn’t think you’d notice.”
The cigarette met your lips once more. You took a long drag, the smoke filling your lungs as your eyes remained locked with his. In that moment, it felt as if time itself had frozen, leaving you both suspended in the delicate space between old familiarity and the evolving distance that now defined your relationship.
“Of course I would,” he said, his voice carrying a soft tinge of regret.
You dropped the cigarette into the snow, watching as it hissed and sizzled against the cold ground. With a decisive step, you crushed it underfoot, pressing it into the snow for good measure. The smoldering embers were quickly extinguished, leaving only a faint trace of smoke lingering in the frosty air.
“Sorry,” was all you could manage to utter, the word feeling woefully inadequate in the weight of the moment. It hung between you, a simple apology for the complexities that neither of you could fully address.
“It’s cold. You’ll catch your death out here,” he muttered, his voice laced with a blend of concern and weariness. He stepped aside from the doorway, making way for you with a gentle gesture. The warmth from inside seemed to beckon, a stark contrast to the frigid night air.
You looked into his eyes, and he stared back, the moment stretching between you as if everything else had come to a halt. The world outside faded into a blur as snapshots of your relationship flickered through your mind—moments of laughter, shared dreams, and fleeting happiness. With each memory, you found yourself questioning what had gone wrong, what could have been different, and what measures you might have taken to alter the course of events.
In the midst of that frozen silence, a question slipped from your lips before you could even stop yourself: “Ford, are you still in love with me?” The words hung in the air, unexpected and raw, their weight adding a new layer of complexity to the already tense moment.
His head snapped towards you, eyes widening with a shock that seemed to crystallize in the cold night air. His gaze pierced into yours with a fierce intensity, as if your question had struck a chord deep within him. His eyebrows knit together in a furrow of confusion and apprehension, while his mouth tightened into a thin, resolute line. The change in his demeanor was palpable; his posture straightened as though he were bracing himself for a storm.
With a determined stride, he marched to stand beside you in the snow, the door to the house slamming shut behind him with a resonant thud that echoed through the night. The two of you stood together, the moonlight casting a ghostly glow upon the snow, which reflected a bluish light that danced across the scene. The snow-covered ground sparkled faintly, but the surrounding darkness clung to you both like a shroud.
He stared down at you as you stared at your feet, standing only an arm's length away, the proximity intimate and charged. For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. The only sound was the soft shushing of dormant branches swaying in the wind, their gentle rustling mingling with the quiet stillness of the night. The cold air wrapped around you both, creating a palpable silence that stretched between you, broken only by the occasional whisper of the wind through the snow-laden trees.
His hand reached out, fingers closing gently around your chin. With a deliberate motion, he angled your gaze upward, drawing your eyes away from the snowy expanse at your feet and into his. The touch was firm yet tender, guiding your focus to the depth of his own eyes. It was just like he used to do moments before he pressed his lips against yours.
Your eyes met his, and in that brief, suspended moment, you saw the glistening, unshed tears pooling in his gaze. They shimmered in pale light of the moon, their potential to fall betraying the fragile veneer of his composure. The raw, unguarded emotion in his eyes was a stark contrast to his usual facade, revealing a depth of sorrow and vulnerability that seemed to unravel the very essence of his being.
“Don’t you ever ask that again,” his voice cracked, the words trembling as they escaped his lips. He leaned forward, resting his forehead gently against yours, the closeness both intimate and overwhelming. In that tender contact, you felt a deep ache, missing his touch more than you had admitted to yourself. The warmth of his skin against yours, the vulnerability that he seldom showed, was a poignant reminder of what you had longed for but also feared.
Your breath caught in your throat, the tightness nearly choking you as emotions surged within, rendering you on the brink of tears. Frustration twisted inside you, mingling with a deep-seated ache as you grappled with having surrendered so effortlessly to the solace of his presence. The warmth of Ford’s touch, so familiar and comforting, had shattered your defenses with an almost unbearable intimacy.
In that raw, exposed moment, you recognized a profound truth: you loved Ford with a depth that went beyond reason. You understood him completely, and you would remain steadfast by his side. Even if it meant losing yourself in the process, he would always draw you in. It was a certainty you could not escape.
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cthene · 1 year
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Is Fox Mulder the most comically-brutalized protagonist in television history? Not only is he shot and beaten up on a regular basis, but the list of extreme and exotic injuries he accrues over the course of the series has got to be some kind of TV cop record. The man is mind-wiped by the military in only the second episode. For any other TV cop, that would be a career-defining event, but it’s just a day in the life of Agent Spooky.
Bro was cocooned by carnivorous insects, thrown out of a nuclear submarine into the Alaskan tundra by an alien bounty hunter, beaten up by an invisible gorilla. He was experimented on in a Siberian gulag, drowned in the Bermuda Triangle, tortured by Neo-Nazis. I wonder what getting Freaky Friday-ed by a malfunctioning UFO cloaking device does to your gonads. How much radiation has he been exposed to? Someone test this man’s hair follicles. How many mysterious bodily fluids has he dipped his finger in and tasted at crime scenes? Dear God, someone test him for HIV. Imagine being the FBI doctor who administers his physicals.
Remember when the Shadow Government was putting LSD in Mulder’s water tank? Our boy got blown up in an underground train car and resurrected in a Navajo healing ceremony, and that’s not even the last train car he would get blown up in. One time, his lungs were filled with mutated tobacco beetles. Hoss let a quack doctor give him ketamine and drill a hole in his goddamn skull. In an unrelated incident, he had a chunk of his brain stolen. He was locked in a padded cell, trapped inside of a video game, and— of course —abducted by aliens. Fox Mulder was fully dead, and then came back to life after being exhumed, and nobody even seemed that surprised when he rolled up at the J. Edgar Hoover building like nothing had happened.
Am I missing anything? How is this man still alive? His body must be like a pillowcase full of broken lightbulbs. Every time he moves, you just hear crunching.
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suiana · 1 year
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bro imagine yandere alien and yandere astronaut threesome love triangle
you'd be another astronaut of course, travelling the wonders of the world and space along side your partners which obviously includes this smitten astronaut.
being in love with you since day 1, this astronaut knows you by heart. he'll recite everything about you like it's the national pledge. he's just so terribly in love that he'd do everything for you. and that includes keeping you safe, with him of course.
but oh no!! by some god forsaken accident, your space craft failed and now you're on this alien planet!!! what?1!1! 😱😱😱 and all your other crewmates are dead too??? except for him?? oh no it looks like you two are stuck with each other forever now... 😇😇 like he didn't orchestrate this whole incident just so you two could be alone forever...
stuck in an unknown planet with only him, all you could do was trust him. he'd never do anything to hurt you after all!
but then you met this alien while out on your own one day??? and the alien was so drawn in by you that he's now madly in love with you too???
astronaut guy is pissed but you?? you?? you're happy??? what??? and your explanation??
three dicks is better than one :3 (alien has two dicks)
like what?!?
horny mf
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soupforsoup · 8 months
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Some behind the scenes tidbits I feel normal about (classic who edition):
- apparently every story Matthew Waterhouse's hairstylist would say they were going to trim his hair and never did, resulting in all the variations from crusader triangle to fuck ass bob to shaggy mullet
-Peter Davison was unaware he was many people's sexual awakening in his dressing gown in black orchid
-Colin baker was mistaken for a runner by another actor in arc of infinity and asked to go fetch a coffee (which he did)
-he would also walk around making chicken noises on the set of arc of infinity (until he was told to stop)
-Matthew didn't know adric died in part four of earthshock until he read Peter's script whilst shooting, and was apparently more upset over the fact he was being killed off rather than just leaving
-a lot of the doctor who movie was filmed in the same building as the X-files
-Janet Fielding was told she was good casting for doctor who because she "looked slightly alien"
-Deborah Watling and Frazer Hines used to joke that she left the show because she got pregnant, as she left almost nine months after arriving
-Sylvester Mccoy once couldn't find a filming location until after the doctor who fans, who had been waiting there for an hour
-Paul Mcgann thought all the doctors companions were their kids
-Peter and Sarah Sutton had to stop Janet from accidentally prostituting herself in the red light district
-Sylvester once played the spoons on a guy that tried to menace him
-Paul had to wear a wig because he was casted with the long hair you see in the movie but cut it all off for another role a couple months before they started filming
-Janet called Matthew "matte-finish" and "boom-boom waterhouse" whilst filming earthshock
-the cast bought a prop gun for arc of infinity from a sex shop in amsterdam
(Just to stress I obviously don't know the validity of these I just sourced them from interviews and commentaries!! Please don't come for me if these aren't accurate! These are just some funny things I've heard and if anyone else knows any random facts or stories feel free to reblog/share!!)
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