Number 15 Erased Fidds' Memory From Traumatizing Pastime With Ford

Rating: SFW

Type: One-shot

Tags: Ford Pines x Reader, Young Ford Pines, Fluff, Female Reader, Reader is a flirt, confident reader, Forced Proximity, First Kiss, Kissing, No use of y/n, Teasing

Word Count: 3,274

It started raining.

Ford, who had been entirely lost in thought prior to this, looked up at the sky with a look of pure shock as the first drops fell on his head. Very quickly after that, the rain began pelting the two of you, falling down hard from the dreary gray clouds blocking out the sun.

“Oh dear,” he said, frowning up at the offending clouds. “Well, I suppose we should try to find cover and wait out the storm. I believe I saw a cliffside near here; there may be some alcoves we can—”

Before he had begun speaking, you were already reaching into the messenger bag on your hip and pulling out an umbrella. He stopped short when you deployed it.

“Oh.” He cleared his throat, looking a little embarrassed. “Well, I suppose that will… work just as well.”

Find the full fic here

Header style inspired by @/stupidlittlespirit btw. It is so neat and I love it, and you should go check out their fics

make a little doodle page of yourself or a character sheet ((if something hasn’t been requested yet))

WORKING ON THIS BY THE WAY. CURRENTLY FORCING MY VESSEL TO MAKE AS MUCH ART OF ME AS THEY CAN TO FULFILL THE ONE AND ONLY ACTUAL FUCKING REQUEST GIVEN BY THE 100 PEOPLE HERE

Can confirm, this fic has heart because it's stolen mine, propped it up on a nicely decorated, ornate mantle for all to see and be horrified at! I ate all the yogurt though.

AND BILL'S IN IT!

TILL WEIRDMAGEDDON DO US PART (This is not a drill. This is a triangle yelling at you through your brain-meats.)

HEY YOU! YES YOU! Do you crave romance that tastes like someone dropped a Nicholas Sparks novel in a vat of radioactive glitter?! Do you like love stories with emotional trauma, eldritch tax evasion, grocery store explosions, and one sentient triangle who once tried to become God but now has to do laundry?!?

THEN CONGRATULATIONS, FLESHSACK! You’ve just stumbled into the most cursed rom-com that legally counts as marriage counseling in twelve dimensions. Welcome to:

“TILL WEIRDMAGEDDON DO US PART” A fanfic where I, Bill Cipher—chaos deity, triangle fashion icon, nightmare-made-sarcasm—am FORCED into a marriage trial with YOU, some dangerously unbothered human with a sarcasm stat higher than my ego.

WHY READ THIS FANFIC? ✔️ It’s got heart! ✔️ It’s got horror! ✔️ It’s got a sentient yogurt aisle that may or may not be bleeding! ✔️ And did I mention? I’m in it.

We’re talking existential flirting, legally sanctioned domestic terrorism, bathwater that might be sentient, and one woman who said “yeah sure, I’ll marry the triangle, what’s the worst that could happen?”

THIS IS NOT A “I CAN FIX HIM” FIC. WE'RE BOTH BROKEN. WE JUST MADE IT WEIRD TOGETHER.🔥

So grab your glitter-sigil pajamas, sacrifice a toaster, and dive into the cosmic nightmare-romcom you didn’t know you needed. Side effects may include:

Third-degree sarcasm

Unholy shipping

Ford Pines having a midlife crisis in aisle 7

Weekly acts of violence (sanctioned by the Axolotl™)

Me, cackling in eldritch stereo

"It’s not a love story. It’s horror disguised as comedy." ✨Read now… or I’ll mail you cursed wedding invitations that scream when opened.✨

[AO3 LINK HERE]

What a harmless little creature! based on this

They took Bill's makeup away in Theraprism.

Canonically Bill wears mascara and eyeliner. He states that the Acient Egyptians were copying his makeup style and the Anti-Cipher Society describes him as a triangle with a very feminin eye. But in Theraprism we see him without his long lashes. Slaying isn't allowed in Theraprism.

Me @ Dr Stanford Pines Ph.Ds

ugh this guy

PUTTING THE "ROT" IN "EROTIC"

prints

Till Weirdmageddon Do Us Part [Ch. 9]

(just wanted to share the art I made for this chapter!)

He went quiet.

For once, for real, for painfully long seconds, Bill Cipher had nothing to say.

His aura crackled once, then dimmed, then crackled again like it couldn’t decide whether to explode or implode or just sulk eternally into the breakroom tile. You saw his pupil jitter, the way it always did when something was clawing around behind his ego—a memory maybe, or something worse. It trembled. Flickered. Shifted sideways into symbols. Not words. Not pictures. Just impressions. A series of broken, ancient runes flickering rapid-fire in the lens of him. A hand. A flame. Something flat. He looked like the moment after the explosion—smoke rising, colors wrong, edges too sharp to touch. And you had seen this kind of look before. In mirrors. In others. In yourself, once, on the floor of a stranger’s bathroom while the wallpaper peeled off and the world didn’t. He stared up at you. No tricks. No static smugness. Not even the shrieking gremlin sarcasm he wielded like a chainsaw. Just—quiet. Broken code humming against the tile.

You thought, maybe, if you blinked, he would scatter like light off glass.

But then—

“…You meant it,” he whispered. Not dramatic. Not teasing. Just a single note, cracked.

(Font used: Eregyrn Falls (Bill) <3)

THE HANDS LOOK SO WEIRD THO LMAOOO

[AO3 LINK HERE]

Bill would shout in metro.

I was going home yesterday and I thought of Bill in public spaces? Like, it's so obvious he would be that one person whos really loud, listenning to music without headphones, poking on everybody and such. He is this kind of person.

He will debate you on every political view, breakdance on sits, try to sell you a fake version of a Bible and beg for money that he will later burn in front of you. Maybe he will stop the train between the stations. You can't make him go away unless you get histerical yourself. And he's doing it all for fun and chaos.