Cutest Tyrant In The Psych Ward

Blessed day to have eyes

re-uploading because tumblr is a Good Website that Works Well

full picture here

I’m just leaving this here… for the fandom to devour.

stanford pines' love language is quality time.

he feels like he lost so much time, so many years stuck in the nightmare realm that he relishes any moment that he gets to spend time with you.

the most monotonous tasks like brushing his teeth or folding laundry feel so much more enthralling with you there.

wanting you to tag along on his anomaly hunting, eager to see the excitement and awe in your eyes with every new anomaly you encounter.

sitting underneath an impressive oak tree, your head resting on ford's lap as he reads or is writing in his journal.

no words need to be spoken, just the two of you relishing in each other's presence.

"say ford, do you ever get tired of our routine?"

"no, not particularly. what makes you ask?" he hums, glancing down at you with a raised brow.

"just curious, you've just had such exciting adventures in the past. i know you were literally stuck in another realm, but i sometimes wonder if this gets boring." you admit, fiddling with the leaf that had fallen from the tree, the colors transforming with the changing of the seasons.

ford closes his book, leaning forward and pressing a kiss on your forehead suddenly.

"my dear, i could never be bored in your company. any thing i get to do with you is truly an adventure of its own."

I literally wrote this at 4-5am and if I don't share it now I probably won't share it ever so I'm sorry if this sucks lmao

The Bad Timing

It was an autumn evening in 1981 and you and Ford were on the sofa, cuddling.

"I loved you ever since you met me."

Ford tilted his head to look at his lover laying on his chest. "When I met you?"

"M-hm." Was all you said. Ford chuckled.

"Don't you mean 'When I met you'?"

You smiled, still not looking at him. "Nope. I meant when you met me." Then you finally looked at him. "Because if I loved you when I met you, it would be weird."

He was silent for a while, thinking. "I don't get what you mean, darling."

You chuckled. "It just feels right to say it that way."

This confused Ford even more but when he opened his mouth to ask, you gave him a look that said "Don't think about it that much." So he changed his mind and didn't ask anything. 'It must be something that doesn't make sense but they like anyway.' he thought. You had things like that, he got used to it. You actually thought him not everything has to be factually accurate and sometimes doing some things in the wrong way was more fun. Just like this sentence, although he couldn't see the appeal to it yet.

You planted a small kiss on his cheek and he kissed your head. You both savoured this moment of cuddling on the sofa on an autumn evening, while his mind wondered off to the day you met in the library.

~

While he was in the portal he thought about you every day. One day he remembered this moment and he smiled. He still couldn't figure why you said it that way. But it didn't matter anymore, did it? He was lost in other dimensions and he lost hope on going back to his own. By that time he thought you would've moved on and maybe found someone else. Even though he knew that was most likely the case, it still hurt him to think every time. He just hoped he could go back one day and reunite with you and his brother.

After he came back from the portal, he was expecting to see you, if you were still in Gravity Falls, maybe married and with kids, grandkids even. It would hurt him for sure, but also help him to get over you.

He decided to ask Stan about you. Maybe you were still here and he'd get to see you once again. But before he had a chance to ask him, he saw you.

You were right there, right in front of him, at the gift shop, rearanging some items. You had your headphones on and were humming the song you were listening to. You didn't notice him until you felt his gaze on you and turned to him. You smiled politely and took of your headphones as you approached him.

"Hi! You must be Mr. Pines' brother, right?"

He looked confused and surprised at the same time.

"I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you." You extended a hand to shake his hand. He waited for a while, like he was lost in thought. After a few seconds he finally snap out of it and shook your hand.

"Stanford Pines." His voice betrayed him and shook a little.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Pines." He mumbled something like "You too." before you excused yourself to get back to work.

He looked behind you. All his thoughts about this reunion was crashed. Because in no scenario he thought that you would not remember him. He also, in no scenario, did ever think that you would be the same age he met you.

He went down to his lab in a hurry. He needed to be alone. He couldn't understand what was happening. How did you not age at all? Were you not human anymore? Or were you ever a human or were you something else this whole time? A vampire, perhaps? Or had you find a way to stop aging? How come you didn't remember him? Did you act like you didn't know him on purpose? But it really was like you two were meeting for the first time back there.

Then it hit him. The thing you said over thirty years ago. The time he met you. You had loved him the moment he met you.

"Because if I loved you when I met you, it would be weird."

Your words echoed in his head as he finally understood it all. He met you thirty years ago, but you met him just now, at the gift shop.

You must have traveled back in time. You weren't from his time. You were from now, the year 2012.

So at the end of the day, you had no chance on getting back together. Not because you were married, not because you were over him, but because of something you both couldn't control: The bad timing.

I'm obsessed with the idea how their hands can interact with each other

Bill Cipher drawn in Animal Jam! (My user is Dragonfoxx678)

Some cards to give to your loved or hated ones this Valentines Day!

Bonus Billford:

Parallels! :3

Those two are simply MEANT for each other is what I’m saying. Something something cannibalism as a metaphor for love…

@sixeritwouldeatyoualive did I quote you? Yes yes I did

number 15 erased Fidds' memory from traumatizing pastime with Ford

Lipbalm [Stanford Pines X Reader]

Set in the Nightmare Realm, you two are outlaws and reluctant allies, trying to find a way back home.

Tags: Suggestive, Pining, Fluff(?), Enemies to Lovers

*✧･ﾟ: ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──*✧･ﾟ: ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──*✧･ﾟ: ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──✧

You happily unpacked a little bag full of makeup onto the glossy counter of the bathroom. Mirrors surrounded you both, the perfect time to do your makeup.

"God, even interdimensional dive bars have the same flashy bathrooms as we had on earth."

You hummed happily, dipping your thumb into a tin of what Ford assumed was lip balm. You pressed your lips together, it smelled nice!

"Hurry up, we don't have all night. The longer we're here, the more ground bounty hunters cover around us." Ford grumbled.

You sighed, mood soured slightly by his haste. The muffled sound of the bar outside was nice at least, if you had to listen to Stanford's bitter words. You fixed him an unimpressed look through the mirror.

Ford leaned next to the door, ear perked up in case someone entered the bathroom, six fingers tapping impatiently against his forearm. You held a brush in between your delicate fingers, painting color onto your cheeks and under your eyes. He dared not let his gaze drift towards you too much, but he knew you were grinning at him.

Dive bars were for hedonists and people seeking the bottom of a bottle. Ford didn't really relish being here, but they needed to make contact with an important Altraxian dealer, if he were to get the parts he needed for the portal back home.

"You know, Altraxians love makeup. They consider it an art form, as well as a form of war paint." You mumbled as you painted swirls onto the edges of your lids. Ford perked up at the mention of the alien species. Of course, that was one way to get him to be less mean- information, knowledge. You quietly cheered as the wrinkle between his brows eased. His hands immediately reached for his pen and journal. Ah, how he wished he had his leatherbound book back in Gravity Falls. You were a well of knowledge, an anchor in the confusing dimensions of the Nightmare Realm.

"Is that so? Are they a warring species? What is their political climate like, to be able to appreciate art and war in equal levels? I have only seen one in passing, it turned it's nose and mandibles at me and walked away in disgust…" Ford rambled, scribbling into his book.

As always, Ford didn't give you time to answer each question as he scribbled away. You fell into the Nightmare Realm years before he did, but he was already so knowledgeable in it all. Stanford Pines had a thirst for knowledge that impressed you. It's what kept him alive in this realm- and if it kept him less angry, you'd entertain his questions.  

"That's because a nude, unpainted face is considered an insult to their society." "Hmm, intriguing. And what of tattoos? Do they value it, seeing as it's permanent art on your body?"

Your eyes drifted to the intricate markings that disappeared under Ford's rolled up sleeves. No doubt they continued well past his toned biceps, you've seen glimpses of it underneath his shirt before. Your cheeks flushed, but thankfully, the light was dim here. "Huh. I don't know. Never really talked to one before. Which is why we need to be extra careful, and play by their rules."

With a click, you closed your little bag and strode over to Ford, who was engrossed in his writing his little notes. He hadn't noticed how close you were until you tapped the top of his journal, nudging it downwards so you can meet his gaze. "The dealer is Altraxian. We'll need to suit up if you want the sciencey doo-dad you told me about." "I know that." Ford rolled his eyes "And it's called a cryo-compulsor cog." "Yeah, that, for your portal." you nodded. "Right…" You stared at Ford expectantly, a flicker of mischief in your wide, seemingly innocent eyes. "That means you need to prepare for that as well. I'm not talking to them alone." "I thought this robe would be sufficient? I even made sure to wash it this morning." You sighed at the infuriating man. True, he did trade his torn and dusty trench coat for something much softer and velvety. You hated to admit it, but he looked damn good in a suit. It was near maddening, but for his sake and yours, you wouldn't tease him for it.

"Mhm, yeah, you need makeup." "Pardon?" Ford incredulously asked. Your grin turned sharper and more mischievous as you took a step closer towards Ford. He blinked, locking up as you got close enough for him to smell the floral scent of your hair. Something alien yet alluring all the same. "They won't talk to you if you show up like this. Y'know, "When in Rome" and all that! We'll stick out like sore thumbs!"

Ford's eyes flitted around your face, distantly admiring the way you skillfully painted patterns into your eyeliner. Your lips were plump and redder than usual, cheeks alive with rosiness and accentuating your eyes. Distressed, he started to stutter.

"I-I don't- Ugh, Fine. Don't… Don't over-do it." Your eyes brightened, light passing through them like a small comet.

"Great! Now, close your eyes." you whispered conspiratorially. He wanted to protest, but all he could manage was a gulp. He closed his eyes, sighing in resignation. 

Your expression softened somewhat. He trusted you to get this close with him. Despite being the only other human in the nightmare realm, he barely gave you a fraction of his trust. You weren't sure if you could even call this a friendship. His presence was necessary to your survival, and vice versa. His smart yet cruel words often earned you both another day alive in this hellscape. Now, the same man who often offered nothing but dry scientific facts and cold words was quiet. You took a moment to admire the way the wrinkles around his weary eyes softened.

The tension built around you, ensnaring the air like a hungry snake. Distantly, you noticed how the bar music lulled to something slower.

You situated yourself between his legs. One hand rested on the counter he leaned on while the other dragged a brush lightly across his cheek.

You were so close now, brush held near his face and ready to condemn him with your touch- and makeup. Altraxian men didn't wear a lot of makeup. They wore sigils painted on their faces and slathered a ridiculous amount of rosy paint on their cheeks. But Ford already had red cheeks, so you needn't paint over that. You worked lightly and quickly, lest you risk annoying him and thinking too much about your quickening heartbeats. A shy, distant part of yourself screamed at the way your noses almost touched at the last flick of your brush.

God, pull yourself together, you're doing this for survival!

Being so focused on your work meant you missed the way Ford's six finger hands gripped the counter tighter. The tick on his jack was pronounced, his brows softened at your light caress. You missed the way he stopped breathing at the sensation of your soft knuckles gliding over his jawline.

You sighed, leaning back to look at your work. Ford's eyes were still closed. Upon closer inspection, you notice how dry his pale lips were. Honestly, when was the last time he drank water? Moisturized??

So to remedy this, you leaned in once again, thumb dipped with fruity lip balm. In one fluid motion, it went over his lower lips, slowly, carefully.

The world held it's breath as your gaze lingered on Ford's softened lips.

After a small eternity, you forced yourself to look away. Your eyes fluttered upwards, meeting Ford's coffee brown eyes, wide with shock. Cheeks red from embarrassment and what you suppose must be anger.

Dear god.

You stood frozen as your brain caught up with what you just did.

"Shit- sorry! Force of habit! We don't exactly have lipstick here!" you squeaked in one breath.

Stepping back as if you were burnt, you gave Ford his space back.

"Your lips were chapped," you murmured, looking away.

Ford's hands twitched. You looked away in embarrassment, body aflame with something you dare not name.

You prayed to the Axolotl and all the stars in the sky that the ceiling of this shoddy little dive bar would collapse on you- or better yet- for a blackhole to unravel you at a molecular level. Anything to escape this unbearable silence.

"It's… It's fine. They were quite dry." Ford's smooth, deep voice filled the awkward silence. You blinked, quietly sighing relief- at least he wasn't angry at your intrusion. You turned to hurriedly pack your makeup away.

"Don't touch your face! The sigil will smudge!" You huffed, after seeing him faintly touch his face in the mirror. In your haste, however, you missed the way Ford brought a hand to his lips. Chasing the fading warmth of your fingers from moments before. They tasted sweet.

English isn't my first language and I do struggle sometimes with present and past tense writing. Feel free to correct me and my grammar!