Get In The Car Ford

THAT’S TUMBLR SEXYMAN 2025 RIGHT THERE. MY UNHINGED PRINCESS MY SHAYLA MY MAN MY BABY..... this man has a criminal record longer than any of ford's dissertations and I LOVE HIM FOR THAT

Pass me my over sized props I feel the need to show these losers what a mentally stable person looks like

do you think he plays with his dolls 💜

also ignore how this is horrendous

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.

What do you think Bill would do to purposely frustrate a powerful reader?

It’s Tough to be a God

a/n — I got another request about how this would affect ‘subspace’ for Bill, so that’s happening later 😁

warnings — SFW, toxic relationships, manipulation

summary — Bill Cipher x Powerful!Reader headcanons

⃤ A reader that’s more powerful Bill is something i’ve rarely seen touched on, but it would absolutely make for an interesting dynamic.

⃤ I’m not the first person to say he’d feel some kind of competition with the reader, but there would be a kind of rivalry there, powers-wise.

⃤ He wouldn’t be insecure, per se, but he wouldn’t particularly love the idea that you’re better than him. 

⃤ A more powerful reader would invoke a subtle sense of curiosity within him too; Why exactly are you more powerful, anyways? What can you do? How can he use it?

⃤ He’d definitely egg you on, ‘I bet you can’t do this’ etc, to see what you’re capable doing, and what powers you’re willing to ‘throw around.’

⃤ But when he’s trying to make you mad, there’s a multitude of things he can do. Being annoying is truly one of his specialties.

⃤ Obviously, nothing to far. He still needs you on his side. 

⃤ But you’d be doing something important and all of a sudden, someone is repeatedly poking your cheek. “boop.”

⃤ If you have an important job in the multiverse, he might purposely setback your work, hide papers, move things around. 

⃤ He’d start fights with other beings in your name, forcing you to confront them, and display exactly how mighty your power is.

⃤ And he does like watching you fight. 

⃤ Obviously, majority of his efforts would be secretive, as he doesn’t particularly want you to end him.

⃤ But when you do lash out at him, he finds it.. exciting. He’s not normally at other peoples mercy, and sometimes, it’s a thrill.

⃤ Just as long as he can tame the beast. 

⃤ Although, there is always the idea of the reader being the one pulling the strings, even if he doesn’t know it. 

aND tHen OnE thInG LEd tO AnoTHeR ThINg...

THEIR KARAOKE NIGHT OCCUPIES EVERY CORNER OF MY BRAIN!!! HE👏FUCKED👏THAT👏TRIANGLE👏

(This is my first ever Patreon exclusive print! Details + ramble + how to purchase below the cut:)

I'm so excited to share this drawing!! Originally, I had drawn this doodle last year, and I've always wanted to come back to it, make it into something better. And so, THIS IMAGE was born in my mind. This is a visual I've had stuck in my head for MONTHS and I'm so glad I finally got it out of there. 😭

It wasn't easy. I knew I wanted to make this a digital drawing, because I felt like the medium would lend nicely to an airy, soft vibe, as opposed to the pencil texture that's usually in my work. But I'm NOT used to digital art, especially when making full illustrations where you're aiming for perfection. I'm pretty sure this is the longest amount of time I've ever spent on a digital drawing, and "trusting the process" was hard because it's not a process I'm used to. But a week and 172 layers later, I'm happy with it! It turned out SO gaudy, SO gratuitous in it's mushy colorful-ness. Rainbows and sparkles and shit everywhere. Truly the gayest karaoke night ever.

(People on the patreon discord liked the updates I shared, and the possibility of doing a companion piece came up - Bills pov. So that's a potential goodie on the horizon!)

Now onto the print:

This is a patreon exclusive 8x10 inch print with no bleed on semi-gloss photo paper. If you're interested in buying this print, it's $20 + shipping for those in my $5 patreon tier! Purchases are made through paypal invoices, but I'm open to other payment methods as well. International shipping is available, but shipping cost will be higher outside the US/Puerto Rico. To buy this print, send me a DM on patreon. Please ask if you have any questions!

A link to my Patreon!

I know I posted that I might not write anything for today and I truly do not have a lot of time today but I simply could not resist.

Kindness, truly a trivial thing in Bill's world full of hatred and destruction. Are you kind? Or evil? We may think we are the heroes, but are we really?

Bill accepts that he is evil, that he is a bad person, that he can be terrifying to everyone he knows. Perhaps it disturbs him, perhaps not, but he seems to not exactly give that much thought into it though as he just does what he wants at times, and attains what he needs by all means.

When he met you, he just wonders why do you even strive to be a better person? What's happening in your mind? Why are you so kind to him?

He'll try his best to break you. He wants to see you in pieces, he wants to know just how far you can withstand his awful nature.

If you do manage to keep being kind, to keep responding in a polite and kind manner, to keep being his 'friend' no matter what, and to still be there when he goes to you, it will rattle his brain and would also most likely amuse him as well.

Of course, he will try to manipulate you, realizing that you might be someone he can just ask to do something truly awful in the name of the relationship you have with him. But if you are quick to stand your ground, and you still manage to be gentle while doing so, it should knock some sense that you may not be as much of a pushover as he thought.

His little outbursts and mixed mood swings may be hard to deal with from time to time, but if you do manage to do your best to be patient, you may get heartfelt moments that no one will ever get to experience.

You both won't notice but he might slowly but surely adapt the little tidbits of the things you do.

Psychology says that people mirror the ones that they like, and well, he would never admit it but if you and Bill have been interacting for a long time, he'll most indefinitely grow fond of you.

The way you sometimes cover your mouth when you smile, the way you tap your feet slightly as you listen to music, the way you nod every once in a while as he rambles on about something...the little tidbits you do slowly manages to latch on to him and soon he may not exactly notice how you are eventually changing him.

All the while as he tries to manipulate you, he does end up somewhat shooting himself by the foot because of the numerous times he has tried to trick you.

Each of your surprised, horrified, but still genuine reactions that show compassion and kindness towards situations and certain asks may slowly influence him to subconsciously gain the ability to become a slightly bit more compassionate after a long while.

If you notice though, do not mention it, nor should you even think about it, around him. If he manages to understand what may be happening then it will make him extremely aware of the little things he do and it might hinder the effect you have on him so far.

Though truth be told, perhaps he would find out sooner as time passes by. He is no fool, in fact he is a good observer. But his ego may hold somewhat as a blindfold to himself as he would most likely convince himself that he would never change because of someone like you.

After an extremely long while, he will expect you to want something from him. What are you getting out of this? What's the endgame? Keep being kind to him and perhaps he'll soon think that you are just as insane as he is.

In a clear, breezy day. You sit under the beautiful clouds that drift the sky like wet paint on a canvas. Taking a sip from the cup of tea that Bill brewed, the wind gently graces your shoulders.

Bill sits beside you, rambling on about the numerous number of tea he has discovered by himself. You nod slightly, encouraging him to continue.

As he continues to speak, he slowly gazes back at you. Smiling, you gaze back at him as well and hummed, nodding slightly once more to let him know you're listening, and so, he continues to speak, rambling on any subject his mind manages to think of, as both of you enjoy the afternoon with a cup of tea on one of each other's hands.

Cipherstarling's Masterlist

Here we go! Here's all my Gravity Falls related posts. Welcome to my little obsession blog!

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

Stanford Pines x Reader

~ Poetry: "Stanford Pines was poetry in a mortal man's body" ~ Lipbalm: "The world held it's breath as your gaze lingered on Ford's softened lips." ~ A Gentler Soul: NSFW, Nightmare Realm Ford ~ To Sonder: Part 1, Ao3 Link, Long series!

*✧･ﾟ: ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ :･ﾟ──✧*

Bill Cipher x Reader

~ Nightmare!Realm Bill Headcanons ~ Ad Infinitum CH1 and AO3 Link

*✧･ﾟ: ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ :･ﾟ──✧*

BillFord

~ WIP

*✧･ﾟ: ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ :･ﾟ──✧*

Ramblings and Concept Fics

~ Bill and Trust~ Jekyll and Hyde!Stanford Pines Concept ~ Bill Cipher x Bounty Hunter! Reader Concept

*✧･ﾟ: ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ :･ﾟ──✧* Cipherstarling's Scribbles

~ Ford Gets Held Down Day ~ Bill Hyperfixation Meme

Rating: Eventually NSFW (Maybe)

Type: Ongoing

Tags: Ford Pines/Reader, Female Reader, 70s Ford, Young Ford Pines, Nerdy Ford Pines, College, Classmates, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Smart Reader, Sarcastic Reader, Ford is a Tad Arrogant, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, ...maybe, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Backupsmore University, Reader is a Jack of All Trades

Chapter Word Count: 7,263

Stanford Pines was not interested in taking ‘Physics and Chemistry for Elementary Educators’. However, he had foolishly vowed to take every physics course Backupsmore offered, without fully realizing the implications.

Despite his reservations, he was a man of his word. 

When he walked into the classroom, ten minutes before class, he found that it had already filled up. Unsurprisingly, the majority of the students were women, with colorful planners laid out on the desk in front of them. They used multi-colored highlighters and were already looking over the syllabus, which Ford picked up on his way past the teacher’s desk.

The room was even decorated partly like an elementary classroom. There were ‘science vocabulary words’ on index cards in one of those displays with clear pockets hanging on the wall, along with colorful posters reminding of important scientific facts. There was a set that gave a rather rudimentary explanation of the scientific process. 

He had a choice between two empty seats. He didn’t figure either would be more pleasant than the last—elementary teachers likely wouldn’t make for very stimulating conversation.

Each table had four students sitting at it. The only two other male students were already chatting animatedly at tables with three women at each. It seemed like they all knew each other already.

Read on Ao3

glad you’re feeling better!

would you be comfortable sharing a sneak peek of the next chapter 👀

if not I totally understand please prioritize your well being!

Listen, I don't have a chapter sneak peak for you BUT..... because I'm making you all wait so long for this next chapter and I feel bad, I'm gonna give you a small snack.

This is an unpublished thingy that I posted on a little discord server that I'm in and people liked it there so I figured you might enjoy it here. It is just a very short warm-up drabble that I did ages ago and never used again. It's a bit messy and stuff, but whatever. It's set during MtB but it isn't really anything to do with the series. Just a little snippet of life within it:

I Got It Bad (and that ain't good) Rating: NSFW (only slightly) Type: Drabble Tags: Kissing, implied sexual stuff. Very, very tiny inference to muses but meant in no certain way. No pronouns/body described. Word count: 1233

When he's feeling contemplative, Ford likes to play the piano.

He is, like so many other things he turns his attention to, wonderful at it. 

Ford likes jazz. He pretends he's a classical purist but you've found the record sleeves on the shelves near his desk, you’ve done a little snooping, and you know they rarely correspond to the vinyl inside. They're just for show. He plays it mainly in the evenings when he's treating himself to a glass of scotch; he'll listen to a particular artist (this week it's been an awful lot of Duke Ellington) and then recreate it on his own instrument. 

He'll start small. Just a slow, leisurely tinkling of the ivories as he finds his rhythm, and then he'll settle into his groove and flex yet another of his many skills as you listen from another room while you tidy up.

If you're especially lucky, he'll ask you to join him and give him feedback on it. 

He doesn't care about the feedback, of course, because he knows he's good and so does everyone else, and you're sure he's just using it as an opportunity to show off but you never mind. 

He has, in typical Ford fashion, always refuted your accusation: “I assure you, I certainly am not,” he'd said one evening with a knowing smile, as you'd watched from your seat beside him. “I merely know that you like jazz and I play because you listen,” and you'd felt such an intensely affectionate warmth bloom in your chest that you'd dropped the point immediately.

(And when he had added on a quiet: “Plus, I like the way you look at me when I do it,” and you'd made him hit a bum note when you’d leant up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, then, well, who can blame you?) 

Your favourite thing to do, beyond simply enjoying the melodies, is to watch his hands and fingers as he works. 

He'd been a little apprehensive at first, once he had noticed, but you had been quick to reassure him that your interest was appreciative, if perhaps salacious, and not even close to judgemental. 

“Would you be uncomfortable if I took a video?” You ask one dark winter's evening, leaning against the piano’s top while you observe him. “Just for myself, I mean.” 

“Whatever for?” Ford responds without missing a beat of his metronome. 

He's going away soon. He and Stan set sail in two days time and it’s a long trip this time, which means for four months, four long, agonising months, you’ll be without him. It’s almost too much to bear and your heart feels like lead at the thought. 

“Because I’m going to miss you and I’d like to have something to remind me of you when I feel like shit,” you say. 

The corner of Ford’s mouth curls upward a fraction and he spares you a thinly veiled, heated glance, his cheeks turning pink. “I thought our plan was to give you plenty of reminders the night before….?” 

Your stomach flutters. 

“I’d like more than bruises, if you wouldn’t mind,” you say, biting down on a smile. 

Ford laughs under his breath and after a moment, says: “And it’s just for you? The video?” 

“Of course,” you reassure him. “I don’t have to, I just…. Your hands are my favourite part of you and I think about them, often.” 

Too often, some might say. 

Ford laughs again, a little louder this time. “Not my dashing good looks?” he teases. “Or my dazzling personality? You wound me, my dear.” 

You grin. “All of the above,” you say with a shrug. “But especially your hands.” 

“Is that so?” Ford says, taking one hand from the keys to pat the empty space beside him. “And what, pray tell, do you think about them?” 

You go where he asks, taking up a seat at his side obediently. “Lots of things.” 

“Such as….?” 

He’s fishing for compliments, you both know it, but does sound genuinely curious, too. 

“I think they’re the most beautiful hands I’ve ever seen,” you say, giving him exactly what he wants. “And I think about how they fit in mine. I think about how they feel, how your thumb rubs over my knuckles when we hold hands and how your little finger does the same on the sides, you know, just because you can do that….”

“Anything else?” Ford asks, voice warm. 

You smile, eyes transfixed on the way his fingers tick across the ivory. “And…. I like to think about how you hold my thighs when you have your head between them. The way you hold onto my hips. How your fingers taste when you put them in my mouth.” 

Ford makes a soft sound, somewhere between a contented sigh and an aroused groan, and his hands falter momentarily before he restarts his playing. 

“Is that so?” he says, hoarse. 

“Mm,” you hum absentmindedly. Your head is full of those same thoughts right now, your mind’s eye blurred with the memories of Ford’s fingers climbing underneath your jeans and inching past your underwear. Of touching you so intimately that you have to press your thighs together slightly to sate the longing. 

Ford catches it. 

“You’re thinking about it right now,” he mutters, and his tone holds no question.

He’s stopped playing. His hands are frozen over the keys. 

“Aren’t you?” you answer, eyes still on them. 

Ford exhales slowly through his nose, shaky,  restrained. “I’m always thinking of you,” he says simply. 

You tear your eyes away to look up at him, only to find that his gaze is already on you. 

Ford’s eyes are molten, half-lidded and hot, and they flick down to your mouth and back up to your own. 

“You’re terrible,” he says, in such a way that it’s obvious he means it in the most complimentary context possible. “A terrible, terrible influence on an old man like me.” 

A smirk creeps onto your face. It’s always satisfying to see the effect you have on him. “I can leave, if you’d like me to. I have plenty to do and I-!” 

Ford pushes the stool back with one leg, your combined weights little more than a minor  inconvenience to him, and he hauls you into his lap before you can even finish the thought. 

You laugh, loud and bright, and fling your arms around his neck to hold on tightly to him and avoid sending you both to the floor in a heap. “Or not,” you concede. 

“Never,” agrees Ford, and then he’s kissing you. 

It’s slow and tender and white hot as always. 

You can feel his arousal press between your legs and it’s enough to make you smile against his mouth. 

“What a dirty old man you’ve become,” you say dramatically, nudging your nose against his. 

“I'm only what my muse makes of me,” Ford says raggedly. “And you are an awfully seductive force, you know….” 

“So I've been told,” you smile, one hand wandering below to palm him gently through his slacks. 

Ford groans, low and deep, and tilts his head back. “I'll make a deal with you,” he says quietly. “I swore off them a long time ago but just for you, just this once: if you keep doing that, I'll let you take footage of any fucking thing you like….” 

You grin. 

“Deal.”